Belrun is so close to getting this damned flu strain to calm down in this one egg. She copies the change across to a few more eggs' worth, iterates, writes everything down, and Fetches the egg that is getting scary into her pot of simmering water before it makes a break for it. It's getting on toward dark and if she keeps working she's going to have to do it by candlelight, and she doesn't like that - it's already too easy to bump into things when she can see them. She calls it a day and closes up the lab for the night and heads out to walk over to the university cafeteria. It's a nice evening, and it's Flatbread Night, and she's in a generally good mood.
"...Anyway. I had wanted to ask you a sort of general question, Vanyel, which we have not explicitly covered before."
"There is some additional information it might make sense to share with you. I first wished to know your current policy toward telling your King, or any other Heralds, about the content of our conversations."
"Give me a moment, please?"
Vanyel is quiet for a minute or two.
"...I don't," he confesses finally. "It's - not totally the case that I haven't ever, but, nobody except me and my Companion who is alive right now knows. I am not going to make any promises about not telling people, obviously, but it would be overcoming a lot of years of not doing that."
"Your Companion isn't talking to the other Companions even? Wow."
"I mean, they'd get pretty upset. She, er..." he bites his lip for a while as though deciding how much to say. "She told the last Groveborn, and he didn't want to share it more broadly, and then he died, and...she had a feeling it'd be better not to tell the new Groveborn. She can't explain why. But it'd be really awkward and - just hard to explain."
"Is the feeling, like, Foresight-y, or does she not get along with the new one as well, or..."
"I think a lot of it is Foresight-y, but...also the second thing. I don't get along with him as well either, honestly."
"Okay, so you're not in fact telling anybody stuff except - I assume she has a name - but under what circumstances would you?"
Vanyel is quiet for a while again before he answers.
"Yfandes," he says finally. "That's her name. And - I mean, if something was immediately strategically relevant to Valdemar then I'd have to tell Randi. Or if Yfandes' Foresight feeling changed, which - I suppose I can't predict what would cause that."
"The Foresight is probably at least often god-mediated."
Which is unlikely to be at all convenient for their purposes. Still, Leareth can't imagine the part about Urtho and the Cataclysm triggering this, not when it's both old news to the gods and of no particular relevance to current Valdemar. He nods to Belrun.
"Anyway, mostly as a background context sort of thing, we were thinking of catching you up on some two-thousand-year-old history?"
And assuming Vanyel has nothing better to do she will go ahead and catch him up on that.
Vanyel listens, going quieter and quieter.
"...Oh," he says finally, once she finishes with the part about Urtho's death and the Cataclysm itself. "That–" He blinks. Looks at Leareth. "I am sorry."
Leareth is not sure what to say so he doesn't say anything. The dream is probably almost out of time anyway.
Belrun squeezes Leareth's hand.
Vanyel shifts his weight on the snow-stool. "Is there– oh, it looks like we're nearly out of time."
"I am curious to hear your Companion's thoughts on these matters," Leareth says. "There is more we might discuss next time we speak."
And they're both awake.
"'s very rude of the dream to wake us up," Belrun mumbles.
"Go back to sleep, then." Leareth squeezes her and then rolls over. "M'going to take notes first."
"Mrg," she says, halfheartedly attempting to tug him back into place, but then she burrows into her covers and goes back to sleep.
Leareth scribbles down the bits that seem most important to remember right, using a tiny mage-light shielded in his hand so as not to wake her, and then snuggles back against Belrun and falls asleep as well.