Pale, spidery hands slammed onto the handrail right next to Arlo, catapulting him from his thoughts and rocking him to strangle back his yell. He was halfway into a defensive stance when a lithe body followed the hands, which gripped the rail so tightly he could see muscles bulging from the pressure, and the new builder sailed over his head.
Hazel obviously registered she had just given someone a bloody awful shock, and as soon as she had gained her footing she turned to face him. "So sorry, I - oh, hey, Arlo! Long time no see!" Her feet kept moving on the spot, keeping her pulse up. "Don't you normally hit The Round Table around now?"
"I could say the same to you," he returned, and she grinned shamelessly.
"I have a delivery to make to the clinic, just want to get it through the door tonight!" she chirped, spinning lightly on one foot. "You look like a man with time on his hands." She regarded him shrewdly. "And a lot on his mind."
This gave Arlo pause. Was he so obvious? No wonder Sam and Remington had given him a bit of space tonight, not even commenting when he signed off the same report four times.
He would normally be at The Round Table tonight, that was true. But for the first time in his life, Arlo was doing something he never thought he was capable of.
Avoiding his problems.
"Hey, let me drop off this delivery," Hazel said suddenly, shrugging up a shoulder to show the package on her back. "Then we can go sit somewhere. You don't have to talk about it, but I'll keep you company."
Arlo's heart panged. She really was so kind. He had no doubt she had been up at the crack of dawn as per usual, working on her commissions and running errands, and now at eleven o'clock on a winter's evening she was offering to comfort him when her bed must be calling.
But this was a great opportunity. It stood to reason that Hazel, a friend to most everyone in town by now, would be able to offer some perspective on his current dilemma. And even if he couldn't work up the courage to talk about it, he wouldn't have to be alone with his churning thoughts.
"I would like your opinion on a personal matter," he conceded, glancing around to ensure they were alone. "It - I think I need some help straightening out my thoughts." Hazel beamed at him, and he got the impression she was thrilled to be in his confidence.
Hazel was halfway up to the next set of handrails before he could stop her. "I'll be right back! Wait here!" She vanished into the darkness, her blonde hair flicking like a horse's mane. He would have to have a word with Hazel about her habit of scampering up and down vertical surfaces when she could quite easily, and safely, take the path. It didn't even save her that much time.
It seemed hardly a few minutes passed before Hazel was vaulting down next to him, clearing several levels of perfectly good footpath in the meantime. She landed in a crouch, rolled neatly, and sprung up a foot away from his side, grinning hugely. "Okay! Where to?"
Arlo searched for a location. The Civil Corp headquarters were nearby, but he didn't want Sam or Remington potentially overhearing. If he took Hazel into his room and she were spotted, he would never hear the end of it.
The well? That place felt oddly too private. He also had no idea how often it was visited, and by whom, so there was a risk there.
He even briefly considered the Collapsed Wasteland, weighing up privacy with the risk of being mauled, when he felt a tug at his elbow. Arlo looked from her small hand on his arm, to her smiling face. "Central Plaza first?" she suggested. "We can figure it out from there?"
"Yeah." At least one of them was thinking clearly. "I'm not usually so...so…"
"Frazzled? Indecisive? Paranoid?" Hazel suggested, falling into step with him as they cut through the little park.
"Alright, Miss Therapist, got any other suggestions before I actually tell you my problem?" Arlo jabbed, though it was in good humour and by her grin, Hazel could tell.
"I have a few, but those ones will cost you," she said cheekily. "My first session is complementary to any Arlos in the Free Cities."
"I doubt I'll be hearing much in the way of compliments, but sure," was his dry response; Hazel only giggled and led them over to one of the benches by the museum. It was a good choice - no chance of anyone sneaking up on them, and far away enough from any of the houses or shops that an eavesdropper would have to get pretty close before they heard anything. Tactical. Very on brand for Hazel.
Taking their seat, Hazel angled herself towards him, folding her hands in her lap. The constant energy was contained and sharply focused on him; her whole demeanor engaged but patient, leaving him to start this discussion.
Now where to start?
"Nora," he began, and Hazel's eyebrows rose knowingly, "A few days ago, we were on a date - a friendly date," he hastened to add, seeing her expression change, "At least, I thought it was.
We have a standing arrangement at a...private place."
Hazel nodded. "The well, and up at the tower abandoned ruins," she stated matter-of-factly, and Arlo's expression must've been hilarious, as her attentive mien cracked into her dimpled grin. "I'm up late a lot, and you, sir, are not slick when you're midway through regaling someone with your great escapades."
Arlo made a mental note to use his inside voice more often. "You have a blackboard with my whole schedule on it, don't you?"
"Memorised it first week," she teased, before her face cleared of humour, and she beckoned him to continue.
"She says she wants to discuss something with me. Something that's been on her mind for awhile. I thought it was going to be about continuing her mission, or something." Arlo slapped his thigh, unwillingly pulled back to the all too clear memory. "She laid out her feelings for me. Very strong feelings, was the impression I got."
He didn't even have to close his eyes to picture her, right in front of him, her hands clasped together nervously, but determination and shy adoration clear in her eyes. Nora had always put him in mind of a gentle doe, moreso when she tilted her head up to him, brown eyes warm and soft.
"I see. That must've been a shock." Hazel's voice snapped Arlo back into the present. "I imagine you must have some reservations, if we're having this conversation."
"It's all a bit sudden," he agreed, and suddenly his feelings martialled themselves into words, he couldn't stop their march, "I like telling her stories about my adventures, she's a good listener, and sometimes it helps me to get a new perspective on the missions."
He ran his hands over his face, felt Hazel rest a comforting hand on his shoulder. "She's been more of a little sister to me, it's nice to have someone, who isn't Toby, be a little awed. But since she told me…"
"You're seeing her as an attractive adult, not a child to be wowed?" Hazel finished for him after he trailed off into silence.
Arlo stared off into the distance. "Yeah, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't attracted to her - I'm not blind." He turned to face her. "But that's only part of the issue. I'm committed to the Civil Corps right now, and then hopefully, The Flying Pigs. It would be a huge change for me to be in a relationship, I would need to prioritise spending time with her, and I genuinely don't know where to cut fat from my routine." Arlo searched her face, desperate for guidance. "What do you think?"
Hazel took a moment; he could practically see the gears turning in her head, rallying a response. This was part of the reason he had asked her. Hazel, for all the boisterous shenanigans she got into at The Round Table, or trouble she found in her daily life, did have a good head on her shoulders. She often came up with bright solutions to problems, even if they were sometimes unorthodox.
"I think...we should really unpack some of this, Arlo," she said at last, shifting so she was fully facing him and comfortably cross legged on the bench.
Arlo's brow furrowed. "Unpack...how?"
Okay, first, let's talk about Nora," Hazel began, and began ticking off her points on her fingers. "She's very pretty, right?"
"Gorgeous," Arlo agreed, before he could help himself. Hazel grinned, but continued.
"But not just gorgeous. And not just a good listener. What else do you like about her?" Hazel urged.
"Well, she -" Arlo paused, then began again, "She's very generous with her time and energy. She likes to help people because it's the right thing to do, not because the Church decrees it. She's very clever, almost too clever for me; as in, sometimes I can hardly keep up with whatever new Relic or invention the Church is opposing. She's very sensible, she's not a zealot about Relics, and she's good at refereeing squabbles that Minister Lee can't handle."
He was suddenly aware of Hazel's piercing gaze, but when he looked back at her, she was regarding him very kindly. "It sounds like you almost feel she's out of your league," Hazel said, and Arlo deflated a little.
"Yeah, maybe a bit of that. She's from a prominent family in Highwind, she could do anything or go anywhere. Have anyone." Arlo glanced down at his hands, calloused from years of training and wielding weapons in defense of his town. "I'm not sure I would be up to scratch."
"Well, she obviously thinks you are." Hazel's pale, chilly hands covered his own, and for a second he was distracted by long, pianist fingers, just as calloused as his workman's paws. "Don't disregard your own charms, Arlo. You are quite clever yourself, trustworthy, and you have the respect of everyone in this city. Also, you are very handsome."
Trying to shake the terrible blush he could feel creeping up his neck, Arlo pounced. "Oh ho, you think I'm handsome, do you? Should I tell Nora she has competition?"
Hazel shook a finger in his face; her smile was mirthful, but he couldn't help noticing the two high points of colour in her cheeks. "It's a statement of fact, Arlo, even Merlin would agree that statistics show you are a ruggedly handsome fellow!"
"Ruggedly handsome now?" He got a flick on the nose for it, but it was worth it to see Hazel splutter. "If I just leave you to talk, will my virtues be measured in volumes?"
"You won't be alive to read any of them," she muttered, grumpily amused. "My point is, Nora believes you are worth the effort. And her opinion is the one that counts, right?"
"I suppose so." He knew he didn't sound convinced, and before Hazel could rebut, he plunged onwards. "She's a wonderful person. I like spending time with her. But I feel...we're kind of worlds apart. My job is pretty dangerous, I don't want anyone to worry about me."
"We all worry about you, Arlo, and being with her isn't going to stop her from worrying," Hazel extinguished that argument pretty swiftly. Which side of the debate was she supposed to be on?
Which side was he on?
A burst of drunken laughter broke the little bubble around them - Mars' voice, sloppy with drink and delight, floated over to them, Paulie's bellowing laughter almost drowning him out. Arlo stood too quickly, ready to prematurely end their talk, but Hazel looped her arm through his and began to drag him away.
"Come on, we'll cut through the meadows and go back by my house," she whispered, pressing herself into his left side. Arlo estimated where the ruckus was coming from - even if they did catch sight of Arlo, the angle would effectively hide Hazel from prying eyes.
Arlo walked as casually as he could from the benches, willing his heart to beat normally as they glided under lanterns casting buttery light for the revelers - they were quickly concealed by the shadow of the outside wall. Still, her house was only about a ten minute walk from these gates, if they took it slow.
He felt a little better outside of the city, and though they had to lower their voices, he relaxed a little. "Really don't want to deal with Mars the Rumour Mill again," Hazel muttered grumpily; Arlo's jaw dropped before he could school his expression.
Hazel shrugged when she saw. "I was helping Doctor Xu with his foraging, back when the poisoned water made the whole town ill?" Arlo did remember. It had been a tough few weeks for everyone, especially since every child in the city had been affected by it. Lucy had canceled school for a solid week, the Church and the clinic had been working round the clock, and the Civil Corps' patrols had been solemnly uneventful. Until Hazel had rushed back into town with a story so mad it took Sam backing her up for it to be taken seriously.
"He didn't have enough hours in the day or night to tend to his patients and get medicine together. I had just finished my Dee Dee commissions, so I had time and money to go collecting. I get to the clinic one night with my haul, and Doctor Xu has passed out on his desk! I woke him up but he was clearly exhausted, barely functioning by this point." Hazel grinned toothily. "We actually got into a bit of a - a verbal altercation, I insisted he went home for a proper sleep, and he insisted he had to be available for anyone who needed him. We eventually reached a compromise where I would mind the clinic and do some basic prep, he would go home for sleep, and I would fetch him immediately if an emergency came up."
Hazel detached from his side, and Arlo briefly resented the cold that rushed to fill her space. She began slowly treading a wide, spinning square, boot crunching in pristine snow. "Doctor Xu could barely stand, so I half carried him home. Well, between you and me, I piggybacked him, but I'm trusting you to keep quiet on that little tidbit. Dropped him into his bed, made him some tea, and swore on the life of my chickens I would get him at the first sign of trouble. But who do I meet at eleven at night, as I slip out his front door? Bloody Mars!"
"I never heard anything of this," Arlo cut in, scanning his mental reports for any crumb of information, but there hadn't even been a whisper of a secret affair between Hazel and Doctor Xu. "How did you keep it from getting out?"
"With great difficulty! Mars was having a tiny meltdown, first gushing over how cute we were, and then scolding me for distracting him over such a precarious time. I know he was very stressed over his daughters being ill, but I'm twenty four, not a naughty nine year-old, and I was tired, and worried, and I wasn't going to sleep that night anyway and - and I pretty well lost my temper with him." Hazel kicked a little tuft of snow, her hands shoved deep into her coat pockets, a little scowl on her face.
"Mars is still alive, so I'm guessing you reined yourself eventually," he prodded, and was a little alarmed by her embarrassed snort.
"Well, no, I actually accidentally woke up Sam, and she came outside to "prevent a murder", in her words. Between my...tirade, and Sam being the reasonable person she is, Mars was kept from alerting the whole town to my supposed indiscretion. Mars went home, Sam walked me back to the clinic. I took out my anger on a bunch of leaves, Doctor Xu miraculously got a full night's sleep, and Phyllis took over for me around four in the morning. But. For the next three weeks I had to deal with Mars, his entire family, and Paulie, and Martha all trying to set me up with Doctor Xu!"
Her face screwed up, and she affected a surprisingly good imitating of Carol. "'Ohhhh, Hazel, sit next to the good Doctor, you have so much in common!'" Arlo barked a laugh, and she grinned, the next voice uncannily Martha. "'Hazel, don't you think the Doctor looks a little peaky? You should go on a walk around the Tree Farm!'" He was struggling to keep quiet now, his shoulders heaving with effort, but she didn't stop. "'Miss Hazel, when you are going to marry Mister Xu and can I be a flower girrrl?'" The imitation of little Dolly was too much. Arlo leaned against the city wall and laughed until his vision blurred with hot tears, and Hazel continued to squeak out her impressions.
Arlo's laughter finally trickled away to the occasional hiccup; he looked to Hazel again, who was lolling insouciantly against the wall only a foot away, a kitten grin on her face.
"You have a nice laugh," she added nonchalantly, "I like to hear it." Then, as if she hadn't shocked the chuckle right out of him, she tugged on his sleeve to continue their walk.
"Okay, I've had a bit of time to think over what you said," Hazel began, shoving her hands in her pockets. "So...on the side of pro-dating, I think you and Nora would make a very sweet couple. You obviously share a few interests, but you have enough differences in your lives that you won't become codependent. Which I think is important."
"I'll agree with you there," Arlo said, feeling like he should contribute somehow. "But…"
"Ahhhh no, lemme finish," Hazel cut in. "I'm afraid on the no side of things, there are important things to consider. For one, you are the Captain of the Civil Corps, which is meant to remain neutral. If you begin dating a member of the Church, your impartiality may be called into question."
Arlo's heart sank. "I-I hadn't even thought of that. You really think people would think I'd abuse my position?"
Hazel snorted, which lessened his worry a little. "Any Portian who thinks you'd allow love to blind you to your responsibilities has never met you, Arlo. No doubt Merlin will grouch, but only because there aren't enough Data Discs in the world to satisfy her and she will worry you'll stop giving them to the Research Centre." She glanced at him, peering up through her pale lashes.
"I suppose there are political implications," Arlo sighed, "Usually the Civil Corps is fairly detached from all that business. We know our mission." Arlo raised his eyes to the sky. "The Civil Corps and the Church both have similar goals in terms of serving the public good, but we have different ideologies when it comes to Relics. We're worlds apart, in that case."
"Yes, and no." Hazel sounded like she was agreeing with him? "I suppose the other main thing is, Nora is still very young. Not even twenty. I've got no issue with age gaps, but from what I've seen, an age gap works out better later on in life, because people have already started to live and learn who they are." She knelt down suddenly, and Arlo watched her enthusiastically begin plucking wild rosehips, her hands a blur. "Sorry, I really need to replenish my supply. Anyway, the reason I mention this is because it seems like you aren't thinking one or two dates, you're thinking long term."
Hazel straightened up, slipping a handful of red buds into one of her many pouches. "So I guess the consideration here is, what is Nora planning to do after her mission? Is she going to stay, or go back to Highwind, or continue studying in Atara? And how far are you willing to go to make the relationship work?"
Arlo groaned, cutting Hazel off. "You're right. Blast, why does this have to be so complicated?"
"Sorry, I've really only added to your troubles," Hazel offered. A cool grip covered his fingers; Hazel had taken his hand between hers, her index fingers resting on the sensitive skin of his wrist, right at his jumping pulse. "I know you like to go into things with a plan."
"Yeah, that's common sense," He was ever so slightly distracted by the cool sweep of her thumbs across the back of his hand, tracing the raised lines of his veins. "I've been trying to rationalize all day. There are so many reasons to accept her feelings, but also so many to not. And…"
Hazel didn't prompt him, letting him turn over his thoughts in his own time. A compassionate squeeze to his hand drew his final thought out. "And my instincts are saying no. Every time I think of it, I feel like...like a horse rearing before a snake."
Understanding flickered across Hazel's expression, and curiously, all emotion shut down. She pulled away from him first, drawing in shaky breaths, sweat beading on her forehead.
Guilt speared through Arlo - perhaps he had said too much? He hadn't expressed himself like this to her previously, maybe it had overwhelmed her.
Before he could reach out in concern, she spun in a complete circle. By the time she landed neatly back in front of him, her face was back to normal, expression guilelessly thoughtful.
Apart from a frosty forehead.
Arlo smiled, though it felt as stunted as it must've looked. "You've given me a lot to think about, Hazel. Thank you." They had almost made it to the edge of her property. It was a short, easy walk from here to get through the main gate, where he could easily cross the Plaza, head back to Headquarters and mull over this confusing expedition. He nodded to Hazel, who was staring down at her snowy boots, swung around to start his journey -
"Arlo." He turned back around; Hazel regarded him solemnly, the moonlight setting off pale silver highlights in her hair. She looked a little eerie, like a spirit freshly arrived from the graveyard. "New relationships are frightening. Weigh your instincts against common sense."
She hesitated, for a long, tense moment, then visibly steeled herself.
"Back in Barnarock...one of my friends. I was so attracted to him, from almost the moment I met him." Her eyes flicked slightly, broke their intense eye contact, and he watched her drift away to memories. "He was...very funny. Energetic, a wellspring of energy, I wanted to match it all the time. And everytime I thought of him, which was a lot, my head...buzzed, I was wall to wall with thoughts of him! I would go to places in the hopes he would be there, I learned about his hobbies so I could have something to talk about with him - ha, but I was so nervous, I wanted to be interesting and charming all the time, I just tripped over myself - anyway."
Hazel snapped back to herself, clearing her throat a little. "Anyway. He seemed interested, I could never really be sure. But we talked a lot, spent a lot of time together. Bliss, Arlo. Bliss. I try to keep my heart watertight, so opening it up was a process. And it's hard to close the floodgates once it's open."
"I finally made a move. Captured his attention for a night, an amazing night. And I was happy, I had achieved the goal of making my intentions clear." Hazel frowned now, her fingers twisting and loosening around themselves. "So I thought. He seemed to back away. I panicked, and I backed away, too. Then...he was polite to me in public, but our relationship, our friendship, cooled off. I spiraled, I felt that I had sacrificed a friendship, then I was angry because I felt foolish and used, and eventually I decided that if he wasn't going to reach out to me, I wouldn't reach out to him."
A shrug. Her shoulders rose and fell a little fast with her breath, but her eyes remained dry. "Two months passed. I fell ill, he didn't care, or at least, it didn't bother him. I found out he started seeing someone else, and the misery turned me inside out. I cried to my friends, and they cold-shouldered him. Which at the time felt like solidarity, but I shouldn't have involved them like that."
"Sounds like it was a choice they made to support their friend," Arlo gently suggested, and was once again put under her searchlight gaze. "You don't strike me as the sort to be broken so easily, Hazel. Maybe that's why they took a stand?"
She shrugged again, but he didn't miss the contemplative tick to her mouth. "Maybe. My friend, Shae, she's sweet and gentle, she said she wanted to slap him." Hazel's lips suddenly pressed like she was suppressing a laugh. "She's tall and strong, Shae is, but she's so gentle she started slapping my couch pillows to get practice in! She said 'Hazey, I'll only get one shot at hitting him so I have to do it right the first time!' as if everyone wouldn't be so stunned at Shae actually striking someone that - that -" Now she started giggling, her grin reaching up to light her mirthful eyes and releasing some tension. "Sorry, I'm getting off track."
Hazel took a deep breath. "Some lovers are a fish hook in your heart, Arlo." His puzzlement must have shown, as she hastened to explain. "Like...imagine, a fish hook lodged in your precious heart. So painful and difficult to remove that it seems kinder to leave it there. And everywhere you go, you can feel this hook wriggling away. Eventually, you might grow so used to it, you forget it's there. And then something will aggravate it, it will tug with a memory, and the pain will roar back, fresh and agonising."
Her eyes drifted again. "My fish hook was made from my regret. That my relationship never left the ground, and I was too frightened to properly speak with him about what he wanted."
"Did you ever speak with him about it?" Arlo murmured.
"He gave me his answer, though he didn't have to say it out loud," she returned, glancing again at Arlo's face. "He had his chances, and I had mine. Deciding to move to Portia was very...liberating."
"I'm glad you decided to take the leap." The words rushed from his mouth as quickly as they formed in his mind. A moment of startled silence existed between them, and then her smile rose like dawn, cracking the awkward, wistful winter that had grown around her.
Hazel's shoulder bumped playfully against his arm, "I'm glad I did too, who else would help you with your love life. Though...I have hijacked our discussion."
"I don't mind," Arlo said instantly, and to his shock again, he found he really meant it. This was a part of Hazel he didn't think anyone else in Portia had really seen, not even Phyllis or Lucy. It was a counterpoint to her usual bright good humour, and it hit Arlo all too quickly that she was so still. Usually Hazel was constantly on the move, even jogging on the spot when she was flagged down on one of her mad sprints through town. Seeing her here, still and pale as the moon, gave their conversation a surreal, dreamlike quality. Private, and daring, like he could say anything in a space they had carved out for themselves.
Hazel had gone quiet again, and this time it was his side bumping into her, though his natural strength almost sent her sprawling into the snow. She righted herself with an undignified squawk and some pinwheeling of her arms, and Arlo didn't bother to hide the laugh bubbling up from his throat. Glaring dramatically, Hazel made a show of brushing non-existent flakes from her coat, then planted her fists on her hips. "Is this how you reward your matchmakers - attempted murder?" she demanded, which only served to make him laugh harder.
Eventually her little scowl melted into a tiny smile, and he got his cackles under control. Silence fell again, comfortable silence; the meadows before them rippled like a frozen sea, llamas void-black shadows nestled amongst the snow. A knife-edged wind gusted through every so often, and Arlo dimly realised they had subconsciously drawn closer for warmth, his hand a scarce half-inch from the small of Hazel's back, her knuckles brushing featherlight at his thigh.
"Do you still love him?" Arlo's question again surprised them both, but Hazel took a moment to consider it.
"No, if I ever actually loved him at all. I think that there is a difference between a crush, an intense infatuation, and love. But I also don't think there are hard lines for any of them, and it doesn't make my feelings less valid for not being truly in love." Hazel cracked a smile again, lost to the past. "Love is...powerful in its own way, and shows itself in many ways. Protective, or poisonous. Or passionate." Her voice was slightly husky, and Arlo was suddenly acutely aware of how his shirt felt, how her breath misted, pouring from her pale lips. "Or other things. But you know? I think my hook is gone. I'll always have a little scar, to remind me of him, but some time after arriving in Portia, I searched a little and found it had worked its way free without me noticing."
Her gaze switched to the moon. "I wonder what changed in me."
Arlo, however, scarcely heard her last comment, lost to his own thoughts.
By her own words, Hazel had been wounded. Not from cruelty, or spite, but from indifference. Her mysterious former interest - oh, and wouldn't Arlo love to hear a name, just so he could keep both eyes out for any trouble from Barnarock - had technically done no wrong, but he had done Hazel no right either.
Would this be how he first, or maybe finally, hurt Nora? By canceling one too many dates for his work? By finally, finally making the cut for The Flying Pigs, and having to say his goodbyes? Or even just by making a mistake and getting smeared halfway across the Wasteland, leaving behind a lover to grieve his passing?
What was worse, how would he prevent any of that from happening? An image of Nora, resolutely holding back her tears and pain writ clear across her face sprung to his mind, and Arlo felt sick. That he could hurt such a generous, brave soul like Nora, leave a remnant of himself lodged in her mind to gnaw at her well-being, as Hazel had carried for months.
Something nagged him to look back at Hazel, and he found her regarding him solemnly, her eyes dark and glimmering as the bottom of a well. "You can't save her from being hurt," She said, as though she had perfectly read every one of his thoughts. "You can only be your best, and if that's not enough...at least you tried."
There it was, the wish in Hazel's own heart. To be able to release her what-ifs, and receive external closure, one she didn't have to create herself just for the sake of healing.
"What if I do hurt her?" Arlo choked out past the sudden roughness in his throat. He coughed, and tried again. "She loves Portia, and Portia loves her. She can't move away from it all, she would lose so much."
"Portia loves you too, as well," Hazel said, a little petulantly, like she was reminding him of an obvious fact. "Look...what if you don't ever get into The Flying Pigs?"
Arlo knew he was staring like she had just burped up a whole birthday cake, but Hazel held his gaze steadfastly. "W-What?" he finally got out, a little more forcefully than he intended. Hazel didn't even flinch, just shifting her weight slightly and tucking her hands into her pockets. The heat from her hand, radiating on his thigh, was suddenly missed.
"You might not ever make the cut," she pressed, and this was not how Arlo wanted this talk to go, oh no, she was already treading down roads Arlo had barely allowed himself to consider. "You're around...twenty six, right? Your physical peak may only last a few more years, or you may get permanently injured, or hell, The Flying Pigs may dissolve as an organization! You can't truly control the outcomes, you can only control your variables. So then what?"
Arlo wouldn't know what to say, even if he could talk past the shock piled up in his throat.
After a good thirty seconds, and Peach did this woman ever know how to hold a silence, Hazel sighed and fumbled at her waist. "Hang on, I've got - here, have a drink, you look like a splader just hatched in your lungs." Cool water poured past his lips, washing away his paralysis and allowing him a moment to think.
"I don't know," Arlo finally admitted hoarsely. "I've...always known I would get into The Flying Pigs." His position in the Civil Corp, his training, his meager attempts at networking outside of Portia...all in the goal of giving himself the best shot at acing the entrance exam.
He had failed. A few times now. But each failure he had taken the shame, the anger, the frustration, and channeled it straight into his training. Arlo knew that the standing issue was not being good enough...yet. The notion of never achieving his goal had not been one he had given merit to. Because he was Arlo. Never backed down. Never hesitated. Did what had to be done.
Apart from giving a very sweet, attractive, gentle girl his answer to a date.
Slowly handing the canteen back to Hazel, he again rallied. "I suppose I would...stay here? Or join another guild? They're not the only guild." But they were the one Arlo wanted, so badly some days he thought his desire would cause him to spontaneously combust, which would be disastrous because then there would be no chance of him passing the exam, and someone would have to cover his patrols.
"Yeah, those are good choices," Hazel took her own sip from her canteen, "wish this were hard cider, if I'm being honest. See, not getting into The Flying Pigs is a possibility, yes?"
"...Yes."
"But the prospect of failure hasn't and won't keep you from trying, yes?" Her eyes twinkled, and Arlo suddenly caught on.
"Yes, I - I think I get you," he mumbled, Also suddenly wishing he had a good drink in hand. This walk was turning out to be a lot more complicated now they were a good couple hours in. "There's risk in everything, I shouldn't be afraid just because there's a danger associated with it."
Hazel smiled again, and he found himself smiling back. "Love would suit you." She said it like a promise.
Arlo swallowed back against a tingling in his throat. "It would suit you, too." Again, a smile with a tinge of somber regret, but she seemed lighter for their talk as well. Perhaps she had needed a moment to release her feelings. "I'm sorry you were hurt."
Slender, chilly fingers brushed his hand, and he found himself taking them instinctually. "Thank you," she whispered, and it was a trick of the light, wasn't it, that her cheeks appeared a little redder than usual. "He's happy now, he has a lady in his life. Shae writes to me, tells me all the gossip. I'm glad he's happy. He does actually deserve it."
Arlo nodded. "Even if he is an absolute mango when it comes to communication," he added, and Hazel almost howled with laughter, breaking the serenity of the night. The sort of laughter that breaks the tension of a hard conversation, draining away into relief.
"Oh gosh, I hope you get to meet Shae one day, you would get on like a house on fire!" She gasped out, her free hand coming to her face to scrub at her eyes. "An 'absolute mango', indeed! Well, no one's perfect, but people can change for the better." Hazel gestured to the house behind them. "I've got a life to live here, and I'm making out a good one."
"Besides all that, he must have kicked himself that he had the best looking girl in Barnarock at his side, and then promptly lost her," Arlo cheekily jabbed, and was rewarded with a playful glare.
"You're a simple schmoozer, Captain Arlo, how many girls from Barnarock have you seen?" Hazel demanded, prodding his stomach.
"At least one," Arlo hummed, all false sincerity, which awarded him an equally false gasp of outrage.
"Well I'll have you know…"
"Hmmmm?"
"You're absolutely right. Slim pickings in ol' Barnarock." It was his turn to throw back his head and laugh, his guffaws underpinned by her own little giggles.
It must've been nearly midnight, and in unspoken agreement, Hazel opened her side gate to lead them back to the road through her garden. Her raised gardenbeds were almost all empty, aside from a hardy winter favourite. Her fruit trees splayed gnarled, icy fingers against the sky, an eldritch contrast to the cozy house Hazel had taken great pains to fix up.
"I just realized," Hazel announced as they wove through a haphazard set of smelters and cutting benches, "that I never actually asked you if you want to date at all." She visibly jumped when Arlo barked out a quick laugh, turning back with obvious confusion.
"I never asked myself that, either." What was he doing running a branch of civil service, if he couldn't even realize what should be a foremost question? Hazel groaned, goodnaturedly, flicking a few flakes of snow at his face. "Hey, I had other things on my mind!" he protested, blowing a few flakes back at her.
They had come right around to the front of her house, and Hazel motioned for him to sit on a covered swing sofa positioned by the door. It was mercifully free of snow, though still chilled. "Wait here, I'm going to get us something to warm up," she said, and disappeared through her front door, leaving Arlo to his thoughts.
Did he want to date anyone? He enjoyed the casual camaraderie of his fellow Civil Corps members - bonds strengthened quickly when your lives were in danger. He had been on purely professional terms with Hazel until she assisted him on their first investigation, and had discovered a keen, like-minded investigator. His lips twitched, recalling their encounter with the jump dancers - he had finished off his own attackers in great time, turned to help Hazel, and witnessed her launch her last foe back up the waterfall with a single magnificent kick.
Arlo had wondered if, somewhere, the corpse of a jump dancer had washed up on a shore with a bootprint scorched on its belly.
Muffled sounds of action drifted through the front door, and Arlo turned his reluctant mind back to the issue in front of him. He supposed he was dating Nora, in a way. They had an ongoing weekly appointment, and he liked to speak with her at The Round Table. Now he knew her feelings, a lot of things he hadn't given merit to now seemed embarrassingly obvious.
That she was always at The Round Table when the Corps decided to go for dinner. Even spontaneously. Arlo began to suspect a line of communication, probably too convoluted to puzzle out immediately. Most of the time they wound up seated together, or at least within chatting distance.
The machinations of his friends and acquaintances were becoming clear. Arlo couldn't even be angry, he was the half-wit who didn't notice his inner circle conspiring to match him up.
After dangerous missions, Nora always made a point to stop by the clinic. She was kind like that, though now Arlo understood how much deeper her concerns ran.
Coincidence, he had thought, that after Nora discovered he mediated local meetings between the Portian government, Church, and Research Centre, she had taken an interest in attending. She provided a good ally for Petra, and together they soothed the outraged tempers of Lee and Merlin.
She was always...there. In their group during festivals. Walking up the stairs towards him, her smile brightening her face. He felt he knew her well, or should do by this stage.
He cringed, at the same time the door reopened and Hazel edged out, two steaming mugs in one hand, and a laden plate in the other. She deftly kicked the door shut and faced him fully. "Well...you look like you've had some time to think," she said softly, settling next to him.
The plate went between them - a crispy, golden fried snack tossed with dipping chillies, and date crackers with hard cheddar cheese. Arlo suspected whatever frothy beverage was wafting spicy rich scents under his nose would pair generously with what Hazel had served.
Arlo took a long sip; it was gorgeously hot, butter-smooth and sweet-smokey, with a brush of nutmeg, molasses and -
"Is this beer?" Arlo asked suspiciously. Hazel was nose deep in her own cup, but managed a nod.
"And rum," she answered when she surfaced. "It's Flip. Got egg and stuff in it. It's good for you."
"Too good, I might think," Arlo remarked, realizing he'd downed about a third of the cup already. It was a perfect drink for a winter night. Arlo started on the chilli snacks - they had been fresh fried, which probably explained why it had taken her twenty minutes to put together the plate.
Hazel ate a few, but mainly snacked on the cheese. "This was going to be my supper," she explained. "But I like food much better when I can share it, so eat what you like." Arlo nodded, washing down his mouthful of fried batter with more Flip.
Hazel had only once been allowed to pay for their group meal at The Round Table, and there had been some confusion when she kept ordering dishes well into the night, before they realized she kept ordering because they kept finishing them. It had taken a gentle conversation that she was longer beholden to Barnarock hospitality customs, and she really didn't need to feed them to bursting. Still, Arlo made sure to leave a couple of the fried snacks on the plate, just in case she had a relapse and attempted to cook a buffet spread at midnight.
"Thought anymore about what you'll say to Nora?" Hazel's voice broke his pondering. Arlo swished the last few mouthfuls of Flip in his cup, savouring the aroma for a few seconds more.
"I...no," he said glumly. "I'm not certain I want to date anyone, right now. I'm open to it, I suppose. I don't want Nora hanging out for a yes which may not come."
Hazel was nodding. "That's a sensible answer, Arlo." She didn't say it was a good answer, he noticed.
"Thing is...I know this is selfish, but…" How to say it, without sounding like a greedy jerk?
"You're worried you might get to a week out of turning her down and have major regrets?" Hazel finished again, smiling that kind smile again.
"Are you psychic?" Arlo asked, only half-joking. Hazel rolled her eyes.
"If I were, I'd be able to solve so many of my own romantic problems." Hazel drained her own mug, placing it in the snow next to her. "Anyway. You don't have to give Nora a response right away. Give it some thought, let yourself get used to the idea of saying yes or no. It's worse to say yes, then back out."
"That's also a good point." Arlo observed her for a second. Her past melancholy was gone, replaced by pink spots on her cheeks no doubt induced by the rum. "Thank you. You've given me - thank you."
Hazel grinned, and it must've been the rum, but his heart felt like it did a little jump. "Anytime, Arlo."
His brain finally got his attention, presenting him with a juicy snippet of information. "You have romantic problems? With who?"
Now it was Hazel who grimaced. "Doctor Xu asked me out."
"...What."