He ought to know better than to play dice with Modyn when he was in a foul mood. It was very late by the time Teldryn made it back to the Netch, lighter in his pockets courtesy of the captain and some of his ranking officers. In the grand scheme, he hadn't lost that much, but it still rankled. He had not had his wits about him as he was distracted by the fact that a certain outworlder was very good at not being seen when she didn't want to be.
He had not seen her for two whole days. It bothered him. It bothered him that it was bothering him so much. She was hiding and he suspected it was due to more than embarrassment, though he did not know what it was. At least he knew she was safe, and that knowledge kept him from sending for her or trying to pry information from Niyya or Geldis.
He curled his lip as he crossed the tavern toward the hallway, knowing his only option. He would have to wait her out. He stopped when he heard a rustling sound behind the bar.
"Argh, where is it."
He knew that voice. He made his way toward the bar and peeked stealthily over the edge, a smile breaking across his face as he saw Vanya crouched behind the bar rummaging through the shelves. She hadn't noticed him so he leaned on the counter with one hand and waited. Perhaps Nocturnal has not cursed me after all.
"Of all the places...Geldis, why would you think this goes here..." she muttered as she stood up with a tea kettle in her hands. "JEEZ- us, Mary, and Joseph!" She startled so violently she had to clutch the kettle to her chest to keep from dropping it. "Teldryn! Don't sneak up on me like that," she scolded as she caught her breath.
He chuckled silently to himself. "I didn't sneak. I think you just didn't want to be seen."
She furrowed her brow and eyed him warily. "Why would you say that?" She didn't wait for his reply and turned to enter the kitchen. Teldryn shook his head and followed her, leaning on the archway.
"Perhaps because you have not left this kitchen for two days?"
She was using a ladle to scoop water into the kettle from a bucket. "I've left the kitchen plenty of times." She looked over her shoulder at him. "A girl has to visit the privy at some point."
He scoffed, "Knowing you, you would have a chamber pot hidden somewhere."
A sudden laugh escaped from her and she stopped filling the kettle, putting her hand over her mouth. She tilted her head back and moved her hand over her stomach, still laughing.
"Why is that so funny?"
"Oh, I have story I need to tell you." she sighed, still giggling to herself. "Do you want some tea?"
He shook his head in amusement as he agreed. "Sure."
She nodded and scooped another ladle of water into the kettle, then hung it over the unlit hearth. She piled kindling into the hearth before picking up a flint from the mantle.
He approached, channeling fire in his hand. "Here, I'll do it." She stepped back and gave him room to reach down and light the kindling.
"Thanks," she said softly before turning away to pull a few canisters down from a shelf. "You don't usually have tea. What kind do you like? Trama, Canis, Elves Ear?"
"Trama is fine."
"Good. That's what I was planning to make. Though I would give anything to have some Earl Grey." She looked up at him with a small smile that did not reach her eyes. "It was my favorite."
She blinked a few times and immediately busied herself with measuring out tea leaves. "This should only take a few minutes, why don't you go sit? I'll be out shortly."
"Alright."
"Hey," she stopped him just as he walked under the archway. "Do you want a comberry tart? I'm having a sweetroll, but I know you don't care for those."
He considered for a moment, then shrugged. "Sure." He left the kitchen and she fetched small plates, placing the pastries on them then setting the plates on the platform above the fire to warm them. She'd offered him a sweetroll during the festival and he'd declined, saying he didn't like overly sweet foods. Comberry was quite bitter and the sugar in the pastry really only served to neutralize that so she thought he might prefer that. She was pleased he had accepted.
She pondered over the last few minutes as she poured the steaming water over the tea leaves. How had he done that? She'd been so tense thinking about what she might say to him when she finally got brave enough, yet he had simply waltzed into the kitchen and she'd felt far more at ease than she expected. She burned with guilt at how she had behaved, avoiding him and not giving so much as a thank you and yet here he was being sweet as ever.
Was sweet the right word? She wasn't sure how she would describe him. Intense was more accurate. Whether he was denying her offer to repay him, defending her in a bar fight or lighting the kindling of the hearth as she watched the sudden flicker of the flames reflecting in the deep red of his eyes... Whew, it's hot. Vanya tugged on the collar of her shirt to let in some air. Between the hearth, the hot tea, and the warmed pastries she was starting to sweat a little.
With everything prepared on a tray she picked it up and took a quick steadying breath before turning to head out to the tavern. He was sitting at the usual table nearest the kitchen, with a long leg propped up on another chair he'd set out in front of him. His profile was lit softly by the dimmed lanterns as his head rested against the wall. He turned and straightened up as she approached, the corner of his mouth curling up.
"Here you are," she said benevolently as she set the tea and pastry, along with a napkin, in front of him. She set her portion on the table and returned the tray to the bar before sitting down with a satisfied huff. As he took a sip of the tea she warned, "It might be on the strong side. I do that when Geldis is not around since his tea is no more than troubled water."
He smiled with an approving hum. "I might ask for tea more often if it were made like this."
"Perhaps it could be arranged," she replied as she brought her own cup to her lips. He raised an eyebrow then pulled his plate closer.
"And you even warmed this," he said in surprise.
"I did." She smiled as she pulled off a piece of her sweetroll and popped it in her mouth.
"You spoil me."
Her smile faltered as she swallowed, watching him as he broke off the edge of the pastry with his fingers. "It's the least I can do," she said quietly.
His red eyes snapped to her face, brow furrowing with disapproval. "Vanya..."
"Thank you," she interrupted. "For stopping him. And I'm sorry."
He sighed as his expression softened, nodding lightly. Then he stopped, narrowing his eyes. "Why are you apologizing?"
She leaned back in her chair and kneaded her hands in her lap for a few moments under his gaze. Finally, she forced the words from her mouth.
"That you had to get involved in the first place, I guess. You got hit, and then got in trouble with the guards and I know you're friends with Modyn, I'm sure that complicated things for you."
He blinked in confusion. "I'm failing to see how any of that was your doing. I chose to get involved, as you can see my lip is perfectly healed, and I just came back from getting my ass handed to me gambling with Modyn so he probably likes me more than ever. I see no problems here," he reached for his tea and paused before taking a sip, mumbling, "aside from the gold I lost."
Did he really just refuse her point for point? She leaned over the table on her elbows. "We can at least agree that I owe you an apology for not even saying thank you."
"Except you just did."
"After two days!"
"Why are you so insistent on apologizing to me? I did what needed to be done," he said with a shrug, as if nearly taking a life was like taking out the trash.
"You almost killed him!"
He tilted his head and looked as if he would speak but hesitated. Finally, he said slowly, "Would that have displeased you?"
Vanya dropped her head into her hands in defeat, muttering, "Oh my god." They really were operating on completely different wavelengths.
For the first time, it occurred to him that she might have been upset with him. But then, why would she be apologizing? She had well and truly lost him in this conversation. He studied her as she shook her head in her hands, muttering under her breath. There was something he was missing. Something she wasn't saying.
"Vanya, why don't you tell me what's really bothering you?"
She lowered her hands enough that she could meet his eyes, then after a moment shifted in her seat so she was leaning against the wall, no longer facing him. She scratched the edge of the table with her fingernail for a while before finally speaking.
"I'm scared," she said, barely a whisper.
"Of me?" His stomach tightened as her eyes slid to him and for a horrible moment he thought it might be true.
She shook her head, looking back to her nails that were still worrying a grain line of the table.
Relief. He released a breath and waited for her to continue.
"What I'm scared of..." she squinted her eyes as she searched for the right words. "I'm scared of why you have to be the way you are. The way you are around me, I would consider you 'Good'. But the life you live, that you have to live. The blood, the fighting, the...the..." She seemed to be struggling to put her thoughts together. "...the violence. It's not normal for me."
"Look, I'm not so naive to think that violence didn't exist in my world, but it was...separated from me. Our communities were safe. There weren't Reavers camping on roads or ash-spawn or draugr. When people owed money they didn't get the piss beat out of them to get it back and it certainly wasn't commonplace for people to fight to the death at the drop of a hat." She glanced at him briefly before continuing, "It's just...sometimes I feel good, like I'm fitting in. I'm adjusting. And sometimes everything I do reminds me of something I lost. My life was easy, Teldryn."
She motioned toward the plate beside her. "I heated this up over the fire, I used to use a microwave. I wash linens in a bucket, I used to have a washing machine. I want to take a hot shower. I haven't felt clean for months. I want a pizza. I want to waste my evenings watching trash tv. I don't want to worry about carrying a dagger and whether I might have to stab someone with it someday. I miss my life. I miss..." She stopped short, taking a breath.
"Your family," he finished for her.
She put her hand over her mouth and his heart ached at the sorrow in her unfocused eyes. If her pain could be a physical manifestation he would strike it down in an instant, but this was something he could do nothing about or even understand. He was a child of Blacklight, born after the horrors of Red Mountain. Of course, he knew loss, but not like this. The home he grew up in still stood, his mother probably sitting in her favorite chair meditating as they spoke. As the silence drew on, he wished desperately that he knew what to say.
"Can we not talk about this anymore?" she said, her voice strained.
"Of course."
"Thank you."
"Besides," he said as he leaned over the table trying to catch her eye. "I didn't understand half of what you said anyway."
Despite the tears in her eyes, she laughed. "That's just a little Earthling speak for you."
"Earthling," he repeated with a smile. He liked it. He had wondered up to this point why she kept her origin secret but it was now clear to him how painful it was to think about and if the curiosity he felt was any indication, should it be common knowledge she'd be able to think of nothing else under the barrage of questions. She was protecting herself and far be it from him to undermine that in any way.
After a few moments of silence, he changed the subject. "So what's that story you needed to tell me?"
She laughed again and finally sat up to face him, pulling apart the remains of her sweetroll. "So, the first night I spent here, Drovas brought me a bucket of water..."
A/N: In case any lore-fiends feel compelled to point out that Teldryn claims to have met St. Jiub in game and thus indicates his birth precedes the Red Year, I say...MEH! I like the idea of a younger Teldryn. So it shall be!
Also, shout-out to ArcanaAcid for the help and encouragement so far! :)
