Author's Note:
At first I wanted to include this in Trials. But I decided against it, because Trials has a loose story to it, and this would be out of place. So I'm just making it a quick, short one-shot.
I'm also trying to use a style that is slightly different from my usual one. I hope I was successful and that you'll like it.
You'll Never Know Unless You Try
It was his favorite spot.
Those few times that he was unable to deny his sorrow, fight back his sadness or bury his pain he came here.
It helped. The surf whispering softly against the rocky shore below the Tower, the smell of the ocean, the cry of the gulls and the colors of the sea and sky, all melded together into a soothing symphony that calmed his soul.
He sat on the shore, the larger waves almost drenching his legs as they flowed over the small pebbly beach. The rock was hard and unyielding, but the waves were insistent and relentless. The battle between water and stone was eternal and the winner was well known, and yet it did not detract from his fascination. He felt almost a kinship with it all.
His hand picked up a small pebble and flicked it into the sea. He watched the small disturbance he created disappear, swallowed up by the breeze softly corrugating the surface of the water.
The wind was blowing his way. He sensed her scent; mint and sage, incense and beeswax. Vanilla in her hair. The deeper musk he loved so much and tried so hard to ignore.
Her cloak rustled softly as she sat cross-legged beside him.
"I thought you'd be here" she said in a quiet voice. He nodded, his hand reaching down, feeling the pebbles, deciding which one to pick. It was an important decision. He concentrated on it.
He knew she could sense him. Their emotions were an open book to each other. She had her empathy, he had his smell and hearing. There was no point in hiding it.
He tossed the pebble into the sea, watched the ripples.
"Will Mammoth be OK?" he asked, breaking the silence.
The sudden question startled her a bit, even though she was expecting it. "He'll be fine. I healed the worst, the rest they'll treat in the prison infirmary."
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
"He's tough. If he was an ordinary man, you'd have killed him five times over."
He lifted his gaze to her eyes for the first time since she joined him. "How about you? He hit you pretty hard."
"I'll be fine, Gar" she said. "I'm stronger than I look." A tiny smile appeared on her face, bathing it with an inner light. His chest tightened; he lived for moments like this.
"Gar…" she touched his hand.
He pulled away from her touch, his gaze returning to the horizon.
"I lost it, Rae. And it wasn't the Beast. This was me. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to rip him apart. I wanted to tear him to pieces for what he did to you."
They sat silent for a while. He flicked another pebble into the sea.
A small, flat rock was enveloped in a black cloud, then sent skipping over the quiet surface of the water. He frowned.
"Don't do that."
"Why not?" There was a small note of surprise in her voice.
"She used to do that. Skip pebbles with her power. You're not her."
He could hear the almost imperceptible catch in her breath, smell the insecurity suddenly pervading her. He looked at her.
"Sorry, I didn't mean it that way. When I say you're not her, I mean something else."
"What do you mean?" Her voice was again her expressionless monotone. He felt his chest constrict, realizing he had hurt her.
"Terra… she was an infatuation. A crush. She hurt me, but I got over it."
"Did I hurt you?"
"No. If you did, I don't think I could ever get over it."
Silence fell between them. Waves caressed the shore.
"I would never do that" she whispered.
"I know."
They fell silent again. He felt her warm, delicate hand touch his again.
"How long did you know?"
He shrugged. "Dunno. Several months, at least. I could smell it on you. I could hear your breathing change when you saw me, your heart beat faster."
He gripped his feelings into an iron fist, deciding not to allow them out. But it was useless. He turned his head and looked at her.
"You?" he asked simply.
She remained silent for a moment. "Same. At first I was not sure. But it became obvious soon enough."
Another pebble flew into the sea. She picked one with her power, lifted it to her hand, flicked it after his. The two sets of ripples mingled.
He watched it for a while. A dark chuckle shook his shoulders.
"So here we are, both knowing what we feel, none of us daring to do anything about it."
She lifted the hood over her head, hiding from him. He chuckled again.
"Gar, I… It's not easy for me. I've been trained all my life not to allow my feelings to affect me. I can't simply…"
"I know, Rae."
He breathed deeply, allowing the scents of the sea and of her to pervade him.
"I was afraid" he admitted finally.
"Afraid of what? Of me saying no? You knew how I felt. How I still feel."
He shook his head.
"Don't tell me you're turning Richard on me" she said, her small smile turning into a smirk.
It made him chuckle again. His hand gripped hers.
"It's not that. It's just… I'm not afraid of losing you. I'm afraid of having you."
She lifted a puzzled eyebrow. It was so much like herself that the pain in his chest almost doubled him over.
He closed his eyes, allowing the peacefulness of the moment to wash away his anxiety.
"I'm afraid that I won't be… good enough for you. You deserve better."
"We'll never find out unless we try, now, won't we?"
He looked up at her, surprised. There was love in her deep, violet eyes. And there was a flash of… playfulness. She was daring him to do it. He smiled at her, then wrenched his eyes away and looked over the ocean again.
She ran her long, pale fingers through his hair, down his jawline and neck, to rest them on his shoulder. Her touch was light, almost feathery, impossible to ignore. He shivered.
"Gar."
He turned again to look at her. There was a mischievous smile on her face.
"Mammoth's fist hurt, Gar. Don't make me have to go through that again."
He snorted and reached out, pulling her hood down gently, taking her face in his hands. Her arms went around him.
"I won't" he whispered, just before their lips met.