Puzzled and curious, Anya nudged the bag open and carefully took the stacked books out. "Don't let me read these," she murmured out loud slowly as she worked to decipher the handwriting. "Remember to ask me the question if--if I come for them. What is the question, Beau?"
Silence hung in the air as Beau continued to stare at the floor before her. It was entirely possible for Anya to think the monk hadn't heard her, was lost in her own drunken world, but she took another drink from the flask with a decidedly shakier hand than before. Her brow was furrowed and her other hand curled into a fist down at her side before she punched herself in the leg. Sometimes words were hard; some words were even harder. Beau never did find it easy to tell the truth. She could lie like she was breathing, but this needed honesty and it wasn't a kind of honesty Beau thought she could voice while sober.
"Do I... do I still... still... love her." Another gulp of whiskey and she hunched her shoulders forward, muscles tense, feeling incredibly vulnerable in that moment. And afraid. "That's the question y'ask. If I hesitate even the slightest... don't gimme them."
"Oh." Though she still didn't fully understand the situation, the obvious pain had her swallowing past a small knot in her throat. Anya nodded quietly and carried the stacked books over to her desk, taking out a pen and adding a small note to the bottom of Beau's in somewhat messy Cyrillic; she doubted she would forget, but. Just in case. "I'll keep them safe, Beau," she promised as she unlocked and desk drawer to put them in. "I'll ask you the question just as you want. I promise."
Beau was nodding as she finally looked up when Anya got up. She swallowed hard and took another drink, in a way understanding why Nott needed one before doing something. "Thank you, Anya... And... if I don't hesitate, if I say no right away... I'm fucking lying." Because then she came prepared and lying was so easy.
"...it's like an itch I gotta scratch - th'books."
Anya wasn't sure that she understood, but she didn't think that she needed to. "Will it help, keeping them out of reach?" she asked, carefully sitting down on the floor in front Beau. She was tempted to ask for a sip from her flask, but Beau looked like she needed it far more than Anya did.
"Outta sight... outta reach," Beau replied. "Then I can't read 'em, no matter how much I wanna. How much I need t'know."
Because it wasn't right to pry into Glinda's secrets like that. Normally, nothing would stop Beau from taking every shred of knowledge that she could from those books, to know what all the witch had told her was a lie, and what other things had she been keeping from her. But with the drink dulling her mind just enough that she didn't care that she'd been lied to, she could see that if she wanted any chance should the witch return, reading those books would likely be an issue.
"So y'keep them from me. Until she comes back or it's been long time."
Anya nodded, her heart breaking a little for how much pain Beau was obviously in, in spite of how much she'd tried to dull it with alcohol. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, shifting to let Pushok crawl into her lap when the curious puppy trotted over and sniffed around for attention. "I wish that there was something else that I could do for you."
Uncapping the flask, Beau offered it to Anya. "Y'can have a drink with me. Then I'll go." Back to her misery on her ship. She needed to do... something there. What was it? Eh... she'll figure it out when she got there.
"You don't have to go," Anya replied, accepting the flask and taking a cautious sip. "If you don't want to be alone. I don't have any plans except to sleep, it's just me and Pushok tonight."
This whiskey in it was cheap but effective, making it easy to see how Beau was so drunk.
The monk shook her head. "Don't wanna be anything... just numb. Best be numb alone. Outta sight, outta mind. Don't need pity anyway. I'll go be all fucked up on m'ship. No one thinks t'look f'me there." And the troll would keep everyone away if Beau wanted. "Thanks th--"
"Pushok," Anya repeated with a tiny smile, lifting the tiny dog in her arms and giving the top of her head a rub with her cheek. "It's Russian, for, ah, 'fluffy.'"
Beau tried to say it. A couple times. Had she not been completely shitfaced, she might have even managed it. Giving up, she reached a hand out toward the dog.
Pushok sniffed at Beau's fingers and wagged her tail so enthusiastically that her entire backside set to wiggling. "She's very friendly," Anya assured her with a small smile, deciding they could work on Russian pronunciations some other time. "I think she likes you."
Unfortunately, unless Anya made a big deal about it, Beau would likely call the dog Fluffy regardless. The monk pet the dog and then picked her up so she could lay back and rest the puppy on her chest. She didn't care if she got slobbered on with dog kisses or what, but it felt nice to have something that gave unconditional love with her.
Fortunately, neither Anya or Pushok mind--Pushok licks contentedly at Beau's chin for a bit before settling in for a nap. Anya studied them for a moment with a sad sort of smile, then sighed quietly and retrieved her book from the bedside table and sat down on the floor next to Beau's head. "You can stay as long as you like," she told her, giving Beau's hair a quick pet much the same way Beau was petting Pushok before opening her book at the place the ribbon was tucked and settling in to read in companionable silence.
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"Do I... do I still... still... love her." Another gulp of whiskey and she hunched her shoulders forward, muscles tense, feeling incredibly vulnerable in that moment. And afraid. "That's the question y'ask. If I hesitate even the slightest... don't gimme them."
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"...it's like an itch I gotta scratch - th'books."
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Because it wasn't right to pry into Glinda's secrets like that. Normally, nothing would stop Beau from taking every shred of knowledge that she could from those books, to know what all the witch had told her was a lie, and what other things had she been keeping from her. But with the drink dulling her mind just enough that she didn't care that she'd been lied to, she could see that if she wanted any chance should the witch return, reading those books would likely be an issue.
"So y'keep them from me. Until she comes back or it's been long time."
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The monk shook her head. "Don't wanna be anything... just numb. Best be numb alone. Outta sight, outta mind. Don't need pity anyway. I'll go be all fucked up on m'ship. No one thinks t'look f'me there." And the troll would keep everyone away if Beau wanted. "Thanks th--"
Wait. "How d'you say th'dog's name again?"
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"Hey Fluffy."
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