Difficult Understanding 2/2fallgrlAugust 27 2010, 11:51:45 UTC
When he returns to the fireside, as clean as cloth dampened from his water skin can get him, he finds her staring in to the flames, hypnotized by the flicker and showering sparks. She is cleaning her armor, deftly removing soil and blood, until is shines again. A glance at him, a half smile, and he sits beside her. When she tenses, he sidles further away, until he finds the distance necessary for her to relax again. Mutely, he watches the fire as well, simply sharing the evening with her.
“Can I ask you something?” He can’t say why she sounds timid, she who intimidates with ease.
“Hmmm, only if I can stare luridly at you while you do so.” He slants a look from the corner of his eye, only to see her staring at her hands, fingers twisting in what looks to be a most painful fashion.
A deep breath. “You…Um. You said you grew up in a whore house…“ She trails off, still refusing to look at him.
He smirks a little, to himself, to see his proud, confident Warden so tongue-tied. “So I did.”
“I-Ugh. Never mind.” She shudders, turning back to polishing her pristine armor. “I don’t even know what I’m trying to ask, let alone how to ask it.”
He almost can’t keep the sneer to himself. “Perhaps you are curious about what tricks I may have learned, to play at being a bed warmer?” A struggle, to keep flirtatious, when his insides have frozen. But he is a Crow, and well trained.
“What? No! Maker’s breath, no!” She jerks as if slapped, though perhaps a blow would have rocked her less. “Was it terrible, living there?” Finally she turns fully toward him, meeting his eyes. “I just…I guess I want to know more about you. How you grew up, what you thought of becoming a Crow, what you think about it now. That sort of thing.” She huffs, and turns back toward the fire. “I see.” The chill inside thaws slightly at her words, further at the sad, torn look on her face.
“I’m good at swords. I’m good at fighting, at killing. I’m not very good at people.” She chuckles darkly. “Which is probably a good thing, since I don’t think the darkspawn would think much of me if I tried to talk them to death.” She sighs, scrubbing her face with her hands. Stands, gathering her gear.
When she places her hand on his shoulder in farewell, he speaks. “It was not so bad, the whore house. I was raised by whores, not as one.” He touches just her fingers as she goes to pull away, holding her to him by will alone. “It can always be worse." Pressing lightly, before releasing her. "Goodnight, fair Warden.”
A soft murmur. “Sleep well, Zev.”
He watches as she crawls into her tent, pulling the flap closed. Tomorrow is a new day, and a new chance to best her in combat. For tonight, he will relish the softer side of his apparently socially inept warrior Goddess. Tomorrow, perhaps he can find a way to use it to put a bruise on her backside for a change.
“Can I ask you something?” He can’t say why she sounds timid, she who intimidates with ease.
“Hmmm, only if I can stare luridly at you while you do so.” He slants a look from the corner of his eye, only to see her staring at her hands, fingers twisting in what looks to be a most painful fashion.
A deep breath. “You…Um. You said you grew up in a whore house…“ She trails off, still refusing to look at him.
He smirks a little, to himself, to see his proud, confident Warden so tongue-tied. “So I did.”
“I-Ugh. Never mind.” She shudders, turning back to polishing her pristine armor. “I don’t even know what I’m trying to ask, let alone how to ask it.”
He almost can’t keep the sneer to himself. “Perhaps you are curious about what tricks I may have learned, to play at being a bed warmer?” A struggle, to keep flirtatious, when his insides have frozen. But he is a Crow, and well trained.
“What? No! Maker’s breath, no!” She jerks as if slapped, though perhaps a blow would have rocked her less. “Was it terrible, living there?” Finally she turns fully toward him, meeting his eyes. “I just…I guess I want to know more about you. How you grew up, what you thought of becoming a Crow, what you think about it now. That sort of thing.” She huffs, and turns back toward the fire.
“I see.” The chill inside thaws slightly at her words, further at the sad, torn look on her face.
“I’m good at swords. I’m good at fighting, at killing. I’m not very good at people.” She chuckles darkly. “Which is probably a good thing, since I don’t think the darkspawn would think much of me if I tried to talk them to death.” She sighs, scrubbing her face with her hands. Stands, gathering her gear.
When she places her hand on his shoulder in farewell, he speaks. “It was not so bad, the whore house. I was raised by whores, not as one.” He touches just her fingers as she goes to pull away, holding her to him by will alone. “It can always be worse." Pressing lightly, before releasing her. "Goodnight, fair Warden.”
A soft murmur. “Sleep well, Zev.”
He watches as she crawls into her tent, pulling the flap closed. Tomorrow is a new day, and a new chance to best her in combat. For tonight, he will relish the softer side of his apparently socially inept warrior Goddess. Tomorrow, perhaps he can find a way to use it to put a bruise on her backside for a change.
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