Chapter 10
*
Daven was worried about Liara. Every time he tried to find out what had happened to her, or asked her any personal questions at all, she would suddenly shut down, pushing emotion away and turning dead eyes to the world. No one else seemed to notice, much, but Daven knew that something was horribly, horribly wrong.
He had to find out what! It infected him with an unquentiable purpose. He had asked Terrisse, his Companion, for help, but she had answered with evasions. It was infuriating.
And so today, he would seek Liara out, and try to stop the burning anxiety that filled him when he thought about her. He was inescapeably drawn to the mystery that surrounded her. But it was not only answers that he sought, he knew - he had begun to dream about a pair of sad, sapphire eyes, eyes that desperately needed his help.
Liara had gone walking in Companion's Field, and now was a good time to find out what was wrong. Daven followed her, thinking about different ways to approach the subject.
Liara was sitting by a small pool, idly splashing with one hand, leaning on Deilan for support. When Daven entered the glade, he approached quickly and sat down opposite her. She waited. It was a tactic that worked well, if only because it made the other person nervous.
"Liara," Daven said, deciding to approach the matter directly. "What happened to you before you came to Haven?"
Her eyes began to deaden as she repressed the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.
"Don't do that!" Daven cried, watching as coldness stole over her. "Don't just keep repressing, like that!" He fell silent, embaressed by his outburst.
Liara was shocked. Daven normally seemed so calm, but now real anxiety was sharp in his voice. He looked at her, worry filling his brown eyes. She wanted to let herself cry on his shoulder, to tell him the truth, but he would despise her. She didn't want him to hate her.
"Why is that your business?" Liara tried to sound rude, but her voice was betraying her. Tears began to form, but she blinked them away hastily. She was apalled at this loss of control - surely she wasn't under enough stress that she would go confessing her secrets to anyone.
"It's my business," Daven told her gently, "Because you will kill yourself by inches if you go on fighting yourself. Life's hard enough without filling it with personel demons."
It was his voice that did it, a blend of worry and sympathy that burst the dam that closed her heart. Bit by bit, the story of her life came out.
*
Daven was appalled. Not at what Liara had done, but what had been done to her. Daven placed an arm around her as Deilan slipped away, holding her as the bottled up emotions washed over him, a sea of rage and pain. He was thankful that he wasn't an Empath - this storm of bitter feelings would practically knock an Empath out - it was already giving him a strong headache.
He held her against him as she gradually regained her composure. She sat up, and he released her reluctantly.
"You must hate me, now." She said, moving away.
"No - why should I? What happened was not your fault." He spoke as forcefully as he could, trying to reassure her. "It was not your fault."
"I killed them, Daven," she reminded him, with a vestige of her former dull despair breaking through. "They were innocent people - and I killed them."
He took her in his arms again. "They conspired your murder, and the murder of your parents." He said firmly, seeking to imprint this on her mind. "It wasn't your fault."
They stayed in the quiet glade for a long time, taking a quiet comfort from each other's company. Then the bell rang, shattering their idyll, and they traipsed into the dining hall.
*
Daven was worried about Liara. Every time he tried to find out what had happened to her, or asked her any personal questions at all, she would suddenly shut down, pushing emotion away and turning dead eyes to the world. No one else seemed to notice, much, but Daven knew that something was horribly, horribly wrong.
He had to find out what! It infected him with an unquentiable purpose. He had asked Terrisse, his Companion, for help, but she had answered with evasions. It was infuriating.
And so today, he would seek Liara out, and try to stop the burning anxiety that filled him when he thought about her. He was inescapeably drawn to the mystery that surrounded her. But it was not only answers that he sought, he knew - he had begun to dream about a pair of sad, sapphire eyes, eyes that desperately needed his help.
Liara had gone walking in Companion's Field, and now was a good time to find out what was wrong. Daven followed her, thinking about different ways to approach the subject.
Liara was sitting by a small pool, idly splashing with one hand, leaning on Deilan for support. When Daven entered the glade, he approached quickly and sat down opposite her. She waited. It was a tactic that worked well, if only because it made the other person nervous.
"Liara," Daven said, deciding to approach the matter directly. "What happened to you before you came to Haven?"
Her eyes began to deaden as she repressed the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.
"Don't do that!" Daven cried, watching as coldness stole over her. "Don't just keep repressing, like that!" He fell silent, embaressed by his outburst.
Liara was shocked. Daven normally seemed so calm, but now real anxiety was sharp in his voice. He looked at her, worry filling his brown eyes. She wanted to let herself cry on his shoulder, to tell him the truth, but he would despise her. She didn't want him to hate her.
"Why is that your business?" Liara tried to sound rude, but her voice was betraying her. Tears began to form, but she blinked them away hastily. She was apalled at this loss of control - surely she wasn't under enough stress that she would go confessing her secrets to anyone.
"It's my business," Daven told her gently, "Because you will kill yourself by inches if you go on fighting yourself. Life's hard enough without filling it with personel demons."
It was his voice that did it, a blend of worry and sympathy that burst the dam that closed her heart. Bit by bit, the story of her life came out.
*
Daven was appalled. Not at what Liara had done, but what had been done to her. Daven placed an arm around her as Deilan slipped away, holding her as the bottled up emotions washed over him, a sea of rage and pain. He was thankful that he wasn't an Empath - this storm of bitter feelings would practically knock an Empath out - it was already giving him a strong headache.
He held her against him as she gradually regained her composure. She sat up, and he released her reluctantly.
"You must hate me, now." She said, moving away.
"No - why should I? What happened was not your fault." He spoke as forcefully as he could, trying to reassure her. "It was not your fault."
"I killed them, Daven," she reminded him, with a vestige of her former dull despair breaking through. "They were innocent people - and I killed them."
He took her in his arms again. "They conspired your murder, and the murder of your parents." He said firmly, seeking to imprint this on her mind. "It wasn't your fault."
They stayed in the quiet glade for a long time, taking a quiet comfort from each other's company. Then the bell rang, shattering their idyll, and they traipsed into the dining hall.