A/N: At some point, it felt like 'F' was the only letter that this whole series would need cause all the ideas began with it. But I love this in all its simplicity. Sorry for all the ideas that went straight to the bin but there was no comparison.
Timeline-wise after ROTR in the brief period before Lara's journey back to England.
F is for Fishing
She hears his approach but doesn't turn to greet him. Instead, she continues to whittle the rudimentary fishing rod; a piece of string and a bowl of maggots sit neatly next to her. Her hair sways a little in the wind and unlike many, she hasn't taken a spot on any of the Valley's bridges but on the high cliff above the white water that she almost drowned in.
It's not the first time that Jacob fights against the amusement and silently thanks the Lord for letting him meet her.
He observes how she ties the hand-carved bobber into the string without shillyshallying. She's young, and the little he has learned of her is not much but enough to know that her past hasn't been in the wilderness, not completely like the kids' pasts here in the Valley.
She doesn't strike to him as the type to hold a grudge but when a minute passes and she still hasn't acknowledged him, he starts to waver. Maybe his denial to tell her about the artifacts that he has been offered during his life is at least partially at fault here. However, he does give her the benefit of a doubt that she is most likely trying to work up a new strategy to get to her goal.
He doesn't know how to react to that. He has spent his whole life, all nearly eleven-hundred years of it, to hide from such questions. Yet, he finds himself waiting for the challenge that she brings.
Even now when it would be only wise to stay away from her, he is here, lowering himself down to sit next to her on the stone-ledge. It's only natural to look after his people, especially foreigners whom he doesn't know properly and could pose a threat, he tells himself. And still, he feels envious at how easily she sits here, cross-legged in her cargo pants and the dark-blue shirt she has covered with the canvas jacket. Even though she must note his every breath –there just is that element in her–, she looks intensely focused on her task and finally throws the bait into the waters below.
It's the only time aside from the near-death unconsciousness that he has seen her so still. And somehow, he can picture her with the longbow that she carries with her, waiting for hours for the right prey to come into her sight.
He is enamored by all that so much that they sit there for two hours straight – in which time Lara has caught two arctic cods. And when his men ask where he has been all day, he can't bring himself to say that he sat next to her for all that time and that neither one of them said a word – or that he'll be drawn to repeat the pastime sooner than later.