Chapter 6
Terrible Liars
"Three sevens."
"Uh-huh. Don't you lie to me, young lady. Flip 'em."
Isobel let out a soft groan in complaint, then reached forward to grab the three worn cards set upon the wooden block that was their makeshift table. She breasted her cards, looking glum.
Anarei chuckled softly, placing the first of her last three cards down. "Don't sulk. You've already won once."
The young girl made a face, then straightened where she sat in the wagon, perched so close to the drivers' seats so as to keep some company. "Well, I'm trying to win twice. Now call your cards."
"Two sevens."
Isobel squealed, as if she'd unearthed a huge scandal. "That's how you knew!"
"No, I knew because you're a terrible liar." Anarei reached forward to scuff her sister playfully atop her head, then yelped as the wagon shook, barely managing to keep their playing surface steady. "Strahan!"
Her brother raised a hand in the manner of an apology. "Sorry. Holes here and there."
"You should pay more attention to your cards, Strahan. We're beating your behind at this." Isobel set down her own thick stack - she'd had some bad luck this round - then got to her feet, wrapping her arms about their brother's shoulders and planting her chin atop his head. "How much further do we have to go?"
Strahan pursed his lips. "We just left Tristram, Izzy." Despite the relative curtness of his words, he raised a hand, his lips curling somewhat. The smile was gentle; Anarei had only ever seen him wear it in the presence of a certain few people. Isobel was one of them. "Just enjoy the ride, hm? You'll be at Lord and Lady Boissevant's soon enough - and then you'll start to miss the open road."
Anarei set her last card down, flipping it open to reveal the nine of clubs. Isobel made a face at her, but then conceded defeat and handed over her own stack of cards. "I suppose this means Strahan's the worst liar among us."
He scoffed, then moved to hand his own stack of cards to her. "Because I'm so pure of heart."
Liar.
She snorted, glancing aside towards Isobel who had reacted with similar amusement. "You're still not fooling either of us." The cards in her hands were hastily shuffled, though she didn't quite feel like another round. "Let's take a break - and we can call it a happy draw. Alright?"
Isobel flopped back down into her seat, leaning into the padded side of the wagon and tilting her head upwards to watch the interwoven branches overhead. "Okay."
Anarei watched as her sister began to hum, hands outstretched towards the branches and the lazily-drifting leaves that floated on a breeze as they drove past. In the days following the cultist attack, Isobel had been kept under strict watch, though that had done little to dampen her spirits. If anything, it served only to make her appreciate the outdoors more.
Thank the gods she wasn't permanently harmed.
Little dots of sunlight streamed through the canopy through which they travelled. It flicked at their skin, like shooting stars fleeting past to form the skin of a cheetah. Anarei found herself marveling at the way the patterns changed with the shifting leaves. Her mind wandered, and try as she might to avoid the subject, it led her to him.
They'd said their goodbyes in the early morning as the wagon-loading had commenced. Isobel had been more than a little unhappy - she'd spent quite some time in his company while bound to a chair for her recovery, and had become quite fond of him.
"I'll miss you. Don't be a stranger, okay?" The young girl had said. Unabashedly, as if she'd known Lear all her life. "Come by and visit us if you're ever near Lut Gholein, or Virkove! We can show you around."
Anarei found herself smiling at the memory of her suggestion, that he visit them in Lut Gholein. True, his reaction this morning hadn't been as extreme, but she wondered if she hadn't caught just the slightest traces of longing in his eyes as he'd patted the young girl's head.
"We'll meet again if the gods will it." He'd said.
If the gods will it, huh?
She took a deep breath, lowering her elbow onto the arm of her seat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a squirrel scampering along the trunk of a tree, its soft, bushy tail disappearing into a hole thereafter.
What of my own will?
Now that she was on her way to Lut Gholein, Anarei found herself looking over the happenings of the past month. They'd made a new acquaintance, yes - one that she had, in some way, come to care about. She wondered if he'd left New Tristram already; he had been adamant upon leaving, after all.
I don't know what's happened, but something's definitely got him in knots. Could it be related to the state he was in when we found him? There were so many questions - questions left unanswered.
Yet the thoughts of Lear occupied only a small segment of her mind. She realised then that she had become increasingly aware of the troubles - not only those rising in the north, but those suffered by the other lands of the Sanctuary. Having witnessed the demonic attacks and fought through the waves of cultists, she saw it, felt it - hated it.
Hated that the town of New Tristram seemed doomed to fight their own battle with dwindling supplies and men.
Perhaps Lear was right. I do want to act.
Anarei halted the thought; it made her laugh to imagine herself so selfless. The truth of the matter was that it just made her feel so bad to leave, when they were so obviously in need of external aid. And she was just one person.
Is this how Strahan feels when he says he's serving his own conscience?
He glanced aside at her, frowning as he studied her face. "You're quiet."
She wondered if he'd read her mind, as he so often appeared to do. "I'm just thinking, is all."
The horses nickered as Strahan flicked the reins lazily, the length of his whip barely licking the brown-and-grey rumps. "Do I want to know?"
"You're going to yell at me." Anarei looked towards her brother. He raised an eyebrow; she chuckled dryly, shaking her head. "Help isn't coming to Tristram, is it?"
Strahan's jaw tensed as he looped the reins about his wrist. "I don't think so, no. But they'll have to handle it themselves - we've got a schedule to keep to, and troubles in our own homeland to worry about."
"But our people were made to fight, to protect." She countered. A warm sensation had begun to rise in her belly, and she wondered if it had anything to do with the way her heart pounded against her throat. "These are farmers we're talking about."
"What do you want to do about it, then?"
Just like Strahan. Plain and to the point.
She bit her lip. "I don't know."
He considered her for several long moments, his brow furrowed in a heavy frown. They were approaching a bend in the path, and the trees overhead had grown sparse. The sunlight bounced off the silver threads in his hair as he looked her in the eyes.
Then, quite suddenly, he tugged on the reins, causing the horses to stop. Behind them, Isobel let out a squeal as she tumbled off her seat onto the floor of the wagon.
"You do know. You're not not sharing." His voice was stern.
Anarei took a deep breath, glanced back to see that Isobel had climbed back up, then turned to face her brother.
Do I really want to go back there? She felt her teeth clenching as she stared right back at him, both unyielding; yet there was something different in the way he'd asked this time, as if he'd been expecting it. I think I do.
"Bring Izzy to Lut Gholein. I'm going back to New Tristram."
She thought she saw a muscle twitch in Strahan's brow, but his voice was calm enough, if not hard. "Why?"
It was obvious what he thought her reason was, but she surprised even herself. Avoiding Lut Gholein was the least of her worries.
He'd been particularly testy since the day of the cultist attack - since he'd seen his blood-brother. Karalir Lumeir was not a welcome name in the Naveau house.
But you didn't come to us as his brother. You came to us as your own man - as Strahan Tandhekar, the son of your mother.
She suspected the source of his irritation came also from his belief that Lear had overstepped his boundaries with Isobel in healing her. The idea that it bothered him at all irritated her.
Always so hard on yourself, Strahan.
Anarei pursed her lips, refusing to break the gaze. Isobel had climbed up, hands clutching at the wooden barrier separating them in tense silence. "Because I don't want to lie awake every night wondering if I could've saved some injured soldier in Tristram."
He scowled; the expression was unbecoming of him. "He's long gone by now."
It took a while for her to realise what Strahan had meant. "I'm not going back for him, neither. I'm doing this for me, and for whatever poor soul gets his leg chewed off in battle."
"So that's it?" Strahan wound the reins tightly several times about his wrist. The scowl upon his face began to fade, though she sensed his obvious displeasure. "You're going to be a volunteer now? Help people, be a war hero?"
War hero. Ha. She gritted her teeth. "No. I'm doing this for completely selfish reasons. I'm going to be a volunteer and help people - so I can sleep at night."
He snarled just then, throwing one hand into the air before slapping it down onto the wood of their shared seat. "It's dangerous, Rei! It's not just practice anymore, and it's not a game. You could die out there and the gods know your parents will never forgive me if anything happened to you on the road."
"Our parents." It was her turn to scowl. "Our parents, Strahan."
"Our parents told me to bring you to Lut Gholein!"
Ouch. I haven't heard Strahan shout in a long time, come to think about it.
His eyes were narrowed to slits as he glowered at her, one hand tightened over the arm of the seat on his side. She wondered if he would yell again - he did not. "They'll understand. I know they will - and you know they will."
She thought she saw a flash of something in his eyes - realisation, or was it another un-named sentiment? He was obviously conflicted.
Well, that means he's giving it some thought. Weeks ago, he'd have just shot you down.
Anarei swallowed, then reached out tentatively to grasp his shoulder. Her other hand went to Isobel, pulled the girl close. "I want this. I want to do this."
After what seemed like an eternity of silence in which he merely stared at her, Strahan shifted. Slowly, he drummed his fingers against the seat. She thought he would flick the reins, continue on their way - but then he tossed them aside, getting to his feet onto the narrow stand beneath the seat and turning to face the wagon. She watched as he rummaged about the trunks - then jerked back as he straightened to fling something into her lap.
She recoiled with a gasp - then looked down.
It was a backpack.
Anarei let out a faint breath, lifting her eyes to his - the blue wavered a touch, and then they settled at discontent. Discontent, and acquiescence.
He was free, in a way - he snorted aloud at the notion as he gathered his things. Free to do what? Run? Keep running. It was all that he could do, at this point.
Then again, he could stop. But his instincts told him to keep running, and the memory of what made him start running in the first place was a little too fresh yet, so he would entertain his instincts for a little longer. Fight or flight... he didn't feel much like fighting.
He arranged various items laid out upon his bed into his backpack - some salvaged notes and bound books, items of clothing, oils and polish, whetstone, flint, a near-empty jar of salve made of aloe and minerals, two skins - one for potion and one for water, his mother's short sword.
There really wasn't much. Though if I die, I won't even be able to take these little bits and pieces with me.
He put on the backpack, adjusted the straps, and pulled his cloak over it. Tugged on his hood as he descended the stairs, handed the innkeeper the key. He was simply another nameless traveller who passed through New Tristram. Nothing more.
He would have to travel on foot for a while. He wondered how far his one-time companions would have gone by now. They had left the day before, and it had been an amicable sort of farewell. Strahan had been more standoffish than he'd remembered, but the sisters were cordial enough. Little Isobel, in particular, had been kind to him without reservations. He was grateful.
Or are you? You're just letting all their hard work go to waste, eventually.
He didn't want to think about that right now. Surely he could afford to let the more recent, fonder memories occupy him for a while. He let his mind's eye drift shut - I've been watching far and wide for so long, now, and they still haven't caught up. I can afford to rest a bit.
It was then, when he slackened the focus of his other sight, that he noticed something - so close and somehow so mundane, a presence he had started to take for granted, that he had missed it completely before.
He broke into a run, rounded a corner, down a hill and into a makeshift shelter. What he saw with his eyes confused him, and thoroughly caught him by surprise.
"What are you doing here, Anarei?"
She'd been smiling, laughing, deep in conversation with a young soldier. Her hands worked deftly to bind the soldier's injured arm, fingers winding the white lengths around expertly as if she had done it a thousand times before. Somehow, for some reason, she was there, instead of on the road with her siblings - and she was happy. For the first time since their meeting and through their parting, he saw her truly at ease.
He did not share the same feelings about her presence here.
She glanced up as he called his query, blinking once. Then the smile returned to her face, warmer than before. "I didn't know you were still here - I thought you'd left already."
No need to get so worked up; it's not as if she came back for you again. "Uh, no... I'd spent yesterday seeing to some errands." Like moping and sulking and thinking about things you can't change. "Just bits and pieces, and it was late before I knew it, so I thought I'd just stay one more night."
Anarei nodded at the soldier, gesturing him thereafter towards another young woman further in the shelter. "All done with these errands?" She got to her feet, wiping her hands off on her apron while striding towards him.
He nodded, feeling his movement to be stiffer than he'd expected. "I'm going now, actually. I just noticed..." He frowned with incomprehension; Anarei was here alone, as far as he could tell. "I thought you were bound for Lut Gholein? Where are your siblings?"
She shrugged a shoulder, then jerked her head in the general direction of the town's gates, the gesture non-committal. "Off without me. There's been a change of plans, is all - nothing for you to worry about." A smile once again warmed her face, though there was just a hint of disappointment in the tone of her voice. "At any rate, if you're leaving now, you'd best go. Your friend was looking for you."
"My friend?" A wave of dread swept over him, and he felt his mouth go dry in an instant. "Who?"
She blinked twice, her face completely neutral save for the underlying amusement in the curve of her lips. "Leah."
He resisted the urge to put his hand to his face. His mind informed him that she was lingering about the main gates of the town. He could sneak out through one of the side-passages... except they had all been barred and boarded up and damned near barricaded shut since the attack of the cultists.
"D'you think she'll go away if I leave her waiting for a bit longer?"
Anarei seemed sympathetic to his plight, shrugging her shoulders lightly, her eyes half-lidded as she gazed at him. "Perhaps. Personally, I think she's not keen on giving you up just yet, so maybe you should go break up with her properly. Chances are you won't make it if you try to sprint past her."
Lear considered this. He could try and rush past her - so fast that the eyes wouldn't be able to follow, as he was taught - but Anarei was right. It would be too much of a strain on his recently-recovered body, not to mention the energy he could not spare at present, thanks to his attempt at stopping Isobel's own mana system from frying up her insides.
For the umpteenth time in the past month, he wondered if he should have been more heartless with the girl.
"Just tell her you're not interested." Anarei flicked her curls back, her expression darkening slightly as her gaze moved past him. Another soldier had entered the shelter, supported by two others - blood ran heavily down his leg. "With all these people coming in like this, I don't think she has any right to expect you to fight for her sake alone. It's not reasonable."
Well you have been a bit of a mercenary yourself, haven't you?
He couldn't remember if he'd said goodbye to Anarei, but he was storming up to the gates before he quite knew how he had gotten there. And there she was, leaning against the old, battered stones and rusting iron. Her eyes upon him, her saccharine smile adorning her face. He wondered if she had seen him before he saw her.
"Here comes my champion," she lilted. She pushed herself off the wall, beamed at him and opened her mouth again, but he cut her off.
"I'm not interested." He held up a hand, as if to halt her voice. "I wasn't interested, and I'm not interested now. I don't care how much you love your uncle, I have my own business to see to."
"Oh, I couldn't care less if you're interested or not, sir." Her smile - one of cloying sweetness, the type that makes a man choke. "You will look for my uncle, and I'll tell you why, now that your lady-friend is absent." She cocked her head playfully. "How kind of me, hmm, to preserve your dirty little secrets?"
What dirty little secrets? He held back those words from being voiced; they would be what she'd wanted to hear. Instead, Lear held his silence, kept his jaws set.
"...What's one of your kind doing in New Tristram?" She folded her arms at her midsection, lifting her bosoms as she rolled her shoulders. "Are you off to your next job, or are you heading back to report a failed one?" Her smile became dark, sinister despite her large round eyes gazing unwaveringly into his own, and he felt a chill run down his spine. "Or... are you the job, Viz-Jaq'taar?"
He shivered at the jarringly coarse sounds of the name, and he couldn't help averting his eyes from Leah's. Those warm, childlike, deceptively-sweet eyes.
The little witch! He scowled, and fought to remain calm. Cut her down, NOW!
No. She was too well-know about town, and even if he hid the body, people knew she'd been waiting for him.
"What are you talking about?" He knew he was terribly unconvincing.
And he was right. Her smile grew more smug. "For someone who's so good at what they do, you're a pretty horrid liar."
He became aware that Anarei was approaching. In contrast to his own haste, her footsteps were leisurely, albeit well-paced enough that she might soon begin to overhear.
His voice came out as a low growl. "Look... Lady Leah." He took a half-step closer, dropping his voice further. "If you dare say anything about me to anyone else, I will end you."
"And what makes you think you won't meet your end when I use my knowledge against you?" Her voice softened as well, yet her expression was incongruously pleasant. He knew it was for Anarei - from where the other girl was, she would see Leah's face and only think them having a casual conversation.
Anarei was close. There was no time for bantering with threats. "Where's your uncle?" He asked, loud enough such that Anarei might easily hear him.
"Somewhere inside the Cathedral. He'd been missing since a few days after the shooting star landed and caused the quake." Leah turned her smile to the younger woman. "You can come too, Miss Healer, if you're worried about your patient."
"What?" Anarei blinked, clearly surprised as she glanced between him and the offending other. "Did you just sell my services?" She did not sound pleased, though he noted that she had avoided using his name.
"I did not!" He was annoyed. Not only did the little witch blackmail him into a mundane little task, she had dragged unwanted company into it, too.
Anarei did not look convinced. "I guess that means you've sold your service to her cause? You're nowhere near ready to be battling skeletal champions and gods know what else lurks in that old cathedral." She peered towards Leah as she came to a full halt. Her distaste for the other woman was evident - from her posture, to her unusually cold voice, down to the way she looked upon the other from her height. "If you bring him out there now, I guarantee one or both of you won't come back."
The little witch was unmoved by the other woman's attitude. "Oh, I have absolutely no intention to die in there. He will open the way for me; if he can't make it, I'm not above escaping by myself." She snickered at the man's snarls, but kept her eyes affixed upon Anarei. "As I said, feel free to come along and ensure that he doesn't undo all your hard work." She winked at her, the short, but delicately-curled lashes batting. "I wouldn't mind having an extra pair of hands, neither."
Anarei's eyebrows lifted into her forehead. Evidently unimpressed by the other, she nonetheless appeared to be considering the implications of the situation. Her hands moved to her waist, where her fingers drummed against the ties of her apron.
Finally, the healer grunted, brushing her bangs aside somewhat impatiently. "Well?"
She appeared to be asking for his opinion. He shook his head insistently. "Don't come. Do your work as a healer; you didn't come back for this." Or he hoped she didn't. "I'll be careful."
"You'll die." Anarei cautioned, her voice low. Her eyes were narrowed; she was obviously irritated that he'd agreed to go at all.
Leah flicked her short hair back, and he caught the glint of deviousness in her eyes as she looked between him and the healer. "Anyone could die, though. This is war." She smiled sweetly at Anarei. "I guess a healer really shouldn't be out in the field, much less one so young. Wouldn't want you getting hurt because you can't wield a weapon."
Forget the consequences. They're going to catch you soon, anyway. Get rid of her.
Not while Anarei was there, he couldn't. She was young, and he'd rather not scare her like this - like how he'd scared Lady Chryse, years ago.
The peridot flared as Anarei scowled. At present, she was more angry and insulted than she was scared - not that she had reason to be the latter. Her words were spat out with venom, the hazel in her eyes flashing. "When are we leaving?"
"Tomorrow, at dawn. How's that sound?" The light-hearted lilt in her voice returned, and she uncrossed her arms to plant them on her hips.
"Whatever." Lear grunted. He didn't have much of a choice in this to begin with, anyway.
"Fine by me." Anarei muttered. She had spoken hastily, and she knew it - though by the look on her face, she didn't feel too bad about it. Not as bad as he felt, anyway.
"Great." The other woman chuckled, and Lear wondered if the laughter didn't sound rather witch-like. "I'll see you both at the Cathedral's main doors. Until then..." She smirked at Lear. "Buck up, young man. Have a good day, the both of you - tomorrow won't be nearly as nice."
Not one night out on my own and I've already managed to get myself into a spot of trouble. Strahan's going to be so proud.
The night was colder than usual, though Anarei supposed it was due to the state of her new lodgings - dying embers in the place of a roaring fire. Once again, she'd opted for Rosethorn Riffle - the sight of Master Bron with his son's widow made her feel a bit more than she'd prefer. At present, all she wanted was peace of mind.
Be neutral, Strahan had said. Act as a healer, and not as a bag of feelings. Objectivity is separation from your own point of view.
Well, that piece of advice has certainly gone down the drain.
She scowled, folding her arms and tucking her hands into her sleeves. I can't believe I let that cow get the better of me.
For that matter, she couldn't believe she'd let herself be baited like that.
Too hasty, Rei. She growled, then threw her forehead into her palm, slumping over her table. Too damn hasty and too damn proud. It's all that northern blood in you.
"Why did you agree to it?"
The cold, hard voice was from a distant away - she guessed that he was standing at the entrance of the empty lounge-room.
Oh, great. Now Lear can yell at me in Strahan's place.
She turned around in her chair. In all honesty, she had no defense, but thought it better to try, anyway. "Why did you agree to it?"
That little question had been bothering her, too.
It had a greater effect than she'd expected. Lear spluttered, then growled, and after a long moment spent in what looked like careful deliberation, he sighed, his tone that of a man defeated. "That little witch threatened me into it."
Did she have something to hold over your head?
Anarei frowned, leaning forward. In the dimly-lit room, it was nonetheless possible to see how much recent events had affected him. "You don't look like someone who could be threatened."
She thought he pouted at her, a hint of childish petulance finding its way into his tone. "You threatened to chain me to a bed," he offered. "And anyone can be threatened when you know enough about them, can't they?"
"Eh." Anarei pursed her lips, though she could not help but to smile at the sight of his expression. He looked so much younger. "I threatened to chain you to your bed when I knew next to nothing about you. Even now, I still know next to nothing about you."
And I did that for your own good. He had made her sound so selfish, somehow - so unkind.
Swallowing the surfacing irritation, she let out a short breath. "So what does she know about you that even I don't?"
His face darkened immediately at that; so much for looking young. "Something that's not her business - nor are they yours, for that matter."
She blinked once - the change in his tone was distinct, harsh and hurried. It had taken her by surprise. She hoped he hadn't seen her flinch, and carefully schooled her expression into one of nonchalance. "Okay." The lump in her throat throbbed painfully - both embarrassed, and for some odd reason, stung; Anarei turned away, folding her hands upon her table. "Okay."
Lear walked hastily to her, dragging over a chair as he called out with a nonetheless disgruntled, but significantly gentler voice. "Hey..." He sat down beside her. "It's... just personal, alright? I have no idea how she found out about them, but they're things that don't concern you, and shouldn't concern you."
You're just so damn confusing. Gods, what am I to do with you?
She swallowed again, not quite trusting herself to speak just yet. Despite having reminded herself time and again that he was a mere acquaintance who owed her nothing, she wondered if she didn't actually deserve a little more information than she had at present.
After all, we've saved each other, spent a whole month together. And yet all I know about him is that he's a terrible conversationalist with a bad appetite and an unnatural obsession with his scarf.
Anarei took a deep breath, then dared herself to speak. "It's okay. As you've said, it's really not my business." Her voice had taken on a somewhat passive-aggressive edge. Good. Let him know I'm not pleased. Honestly, I held you when you had a breakdown, damn it - tch'. Not my business, indeed.
He frowned, clearly aware that he had offended her, and spoke up grudgingly, but with resignation. "...Fine. I'm not going to tell you anything that'll drag you into my problems, but other than that... ask away, if you care to know." He averted his gaze, and added in a mutter, "If we're making faces at each other already, tomorrow's going to be a hell of a day."
On the other hand, if I ask you something you don't want to share, we'll both end up in a bad mood tomorrow.
She pursed her lips, wondering if she looked as irritated as she felt. "What's the point? If I ask you something you don't want to disclose, we'll end up at each other's throats, anyway. Gods, Lear, we don't even know each other. We've gone through so much together this month, and what are we now? Two people who can't get even along, long enough to save an old man neither of us give a damn about." She planted her elbows onto the table. "What're we even doing?"
He ran his fingers back through his hair, then tugged his scarf closer about his neck, sighing into the fabric over his mouth. "You don't have to come."
"Of course I do." She snapped, sounding a touch more waspish than she had intended. The impatience was undeserved, however, and she shook her head quickly, lifting her eyes to his. "...I'm sorry, but I don't want to see you die in there."
He snorted into his scarf, even as his voice weakened a touch. "I'm not going to die that easily."
She tried for a faint smile, and managed now that the air had cleared somewhat between them. "I don't trust you."
"You shouldn't." Despite his light-hearted tone, the irony within did not go amiss, and the atmosphere was dampened once more.
Anarei watched him for several long moments, studied the way his face darkened beneath the shadows cast by the night. Finally, she relented, letting out a sigh. "Lear, I'm not your enemy. I never have been, even when I threatened to chain you to your bed - so to speak." She quietened. The memory of him whimpering in bed surfaced, and she found it repulsive, simply because it made him seem all the less grounded.
They would need him to be grounded if they were to survive tomorrow. Yet she wanted him to know - to understand.
"Look, I know we're complete strangers, and we don't give a damn about each other." She bit her lip, hoping her expression was stern enough that he might believe her. "If you need to talk, about... oh, about anything bothering you, I can lend an ear and forget all about it afterwards."
Okay, maybe I do care - just a little. I did spend a whole night sewing his insides back together.
Lear seemed to be seriously considering the offer - he looked up, and for a few seconds, stared at her with dazed, somewhat unfocused eyes. Then the moment passed, and he shook his head dismissively. "I'm fine. I'll be fine, tomorrow. Thanks, though."
She wondered if she was more disappointed or worried at his response. Certainly, someone who had screamed and cried and fought so - in a daze, no less - would be suffering some form of emotional turmoil.
The books say to let them come in their own time. To not force. But how much time do we have before his internal struggles take him down?
Anarei found she could only gaze at Lear in silence, in the hopes that her sentiments might pass to him. She wanted to reach out, to comfort somehow, but he was so strange to her - so foreign. She settled for a smile. "Of course you'll be fine. Strong, strapping young man like you - I'm sure you'll heal." She straightened, idly interlacing her fingers. "But if there ever comes a day when you're not fine, remember the offer stands."
Lear's eyes drifted shut, as his lips curved into a faint little smile. "Mm, I'll keep that in mind." He opened his eyes, and she realised, for once, that they seemed to be touched by his smile. The sight struck some measure of warmth in her core. "I'm calling it a day, then." He stood with a tired sigh, but inclined his head courteously before moving towards the stairs. "Rest early and rest well, Anarei."
She watched as he strode away, turning only a touch in her seat. "Good-night, Lear." The murmur was quiet, barely perceptible - but it would suffice.
The moon surfaced from beneath its cloak of clouds, casting streams of silvery light into the room through the window. She gazed up.
Oh, guardians, watch over us tomorrow.
Authors' Notes:
Em: Another chapter, another barrage of information about our favourite (we hope) twosome! Well, I like them enough, anyway. But! Basic things to remember first-hand! Blizzard owns the Diablo-verse, and we own Lear and Rei and everyone else who doesn't belong in canon.
Oph: And we own most of Leah's characterisation. If there are things in there you don't quite understand, remember the following: one, we do take SOME things from canon. Two, Google is your friend. Three, if the above two fail to apply, ask us in a review!
Em: We do so love to hear responses from you lovely people. We know you're reading, too - the statistics page is our friend. We visit it a lot, and bring tea and cupcakes. Won't you join us? Pretty please with sugar on top?
Oph: To those who HAVE reviewed, especially to Patches who reviewed the last chapter, thank you! We're so glad that we've made it easy for a non-DIII-player to understand our story.
Em: One thing you can definitely look forward to is how we try to make sense of everything canon - from a magical and non-magical perspective. Hopefully, you enjoy that, because it's something we do in an effort to differentiate ourselves from basically taking canon and putting it into our own words. We want to tell our own story, and those of our kids, too!
Oph: We realise this is another talky-schmalky chapter, but the next is going to be action-packed! Time for me to crack my knuckles and flex my fingers, eh, Em?
Em: I can say and do naught save to hug and cuddle Lear before you break him again. Poor boy. At any rate, I hope you guys have enjoyed this chapter - two chapters in three days, yo! Look forward to the next, and we'll see you guys again soon! Cheers!