A/N; Hmm…
I actually really liked the last chapter. I'm pretty proud of it. =P
Especially that scene between Faolin and Arya.
-feelscoolbeans-
But, anyway… Onward! ^^
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In the morning, Arya had to admit: she was tired. She and Faolin had stayed up long in to the night, talking about careless trifles. It was a lighthearted conversation, nothing too serious. She had a sneaking suspicion, however, that it might have turned in to more of a conversation…
…If she hadn't fallen asleep.
"Brom, may I ask a question?" Arya asked, still staring straight ahead of her.
Brom chuckled. "You are full of questions, Arya, though I believe that may be a good thing," he said.
Taking that as a 'yes,' Arya continued with her inquiry. "What was that thing yesterday?" she asked, as she had just comprehended the fact that she hadn't taken a look at the fallen body.
Brom's face darkened. "That was just one of the very many Ra'zac that run around destroying, torturing, and killing," he answered, pressing his lips in to a firm line of sternness that told Arya that he obviously did not like these Ra'zac one bit.
"What are they?" Glenwing asked from behind.
Heaving a sigh, Brom looked rather unhappy, but did not deny them the answer. "In truth, it is hard to explain. They are human looking on the outside, and with their cloak and hood, they can almost pass as a human, for that matter. Still, they are not close to human—they are monsters that bear no resemblance to any other creature known to walk Alagaesia. They cannot use magic, but they are extremely strong—as you saw last night.
"The Ra'zac are not complete barbarians, however. They bear the ability to breed, though that causes us much trouble. The fact that only one of them was wandering around by itself… That raises questions in my mind, and I suggest that we continue on to the Beor Mountains with much haste." Brom finished his explanation, and as if in compilation with his words, he nudged his mount to a slightly faster pace.
Even though Brom's description of the Ra'zac was obviously a short version, Arya still felt an unpleasant feeling of discomfort. She looked over to Glenwing and Faolin and saw that both elves were also having conflicts about this as well.
"Are you meaning to suggest, Brom, that there may be others of the Ra'zac nearby?" Faolin asked, his voice tight.
"Though it pains and frightens me to say so, I cannot say for sure that that was the only Ra'zac in the area. There may be more, there may not be more. I cannot say," Brom answered, knowing full well that his response was quite unsatisfactory, not helping when it came to making any of them feel better or safer.
With just this knowledge, all of them rode hard and fast, hoping to remain out of line of sight of any of the Ra'zac, if they were around. Arya made sure to always keep her eyes trained in front of her in order to catch sight of one of the creatures if they happened to be hungry for death.
The four of them agreed that if there was a threat of Ra'zac in the area, no more 'hunting' expeditions could be conducted. Secretly, Arya was a little disappointed, but she let no one know, as she was relatively relieved about this agreement as well.
Even though Faolin had failed to get all of his words out on that night, he still remained just as bold, riding next to Arya as they continued their trek to the Beor Mountains. On times when they slowed down to a slower gait in order to cool their mounts down a little, Faolin would often strike up a conversation with Arya. Once again, the words shared between the two were neither intimate nor harsh—simply pleasantries exchanged.
Glenwing and Brom rode behind, talking as well, though they would often steal a glance at the pair riding in front of them. Through this manner, it turned out that Glenwing and Brom grew close, and soon the two could be considered the best of companions. Both enjoyed each other's personalities, as both of them were considered odd by the standards of their race.
With talk, the time seemed to fly by, and it wasn't long before the foothills of the Beor Mountains came in to view. Stopping her mount, Arya stared up, awe written on every inch of her face. "They're so big," she murmured softly. "If the race of the elves could lay eyes on these mountains… they would be writing poetry and composing music nonstop in order to try to capture the essence of all of this…"
As if on cue, Glenwing opened his mouth and from it floated a melody, loud and boisterous and proud—the type of melody that seemed to fit the mountain in its impressive state.
"How much longer?" Faolin asked, wondering how far the Varden's camp was in the mountains. He had to admit—it was a good hiding spot, as one who attempted to wander through these mountains would most likely only find death awaiting them.
A thoughtful look crossed Brom's face at the prospect of finally returning back to the Varden. "Not too long. If I were to make an estimate, I would say around another three to six days, depending on how well the horses can handle this terrain."
"Not a problem!" Glenwing called out with a grin and then proceeded to sing again. It seemed somehow that his melody heartened his mount's step, producing a more lively horse. Arya couldn't help but smile as she looked on ahead as the mountains steadily grew bigger and bigger as they neared the expanse. A sense of doubt overwhelmed Arya over the fact if they would truly be able to cross the mountains, but she pushed those thoughts away, not wanting to think of thoughts that would jinx what was coming.
Once at the direct base of the mountains, the group settled down for the night. Finishing her meal, Arya curled up and fell asleep at a rapid rate, soon followed by Glenwing who seemed to always manage falling asleep quite easily. Both Faolin and Brom, however, remained awake.
Faolin watched Arya sleeping, a smile playing on his lips as he watched the graceful rise and fall of her figure as she breathed in and out evenly. Brom observed Faolin and gave his own wry smile. "You fancy her a great deal, do you not?" Brom asked.
The elf turned to look at Brom. "You have no idea," Faolin whispered, his demeanor suddenly turning solemn, catching Brom off guard. "I have always had a place in my heart for her," he added. "Even as a child. No, back then I did not feel this way, but I still cared for her deeply, and that, at least, has still not changed within me—which, to me, sets the very fine line between lust and love."
"And in your case, it is love," Brom remarked, staring at Faolin intently as he easily picked the truth out.
"Yes," Faolin answered weakly, looking away from the man. It was surprising that Brom knew so much about this topic; Faolin would have suspected the man to be ignorant about the whole entire thing, since, after all, Brom did have the habit of not being very amiable at times. Still, Faolin had to admit that he was glad for Brom's steady presence. By now, Faolin had learned to always listen to Brom, even when Brom's orders were something that seemed ridiculous.
The moon shone brightly, a pure white pearl inhabiting the midnight blue sky full of twinkling stars that surrounded it. Behind them, the sands of the desert were whipped around by gusts of wind that passed through. In front of them, the mountains stood, proud and every inch strong.
Faolin gazed up at the night sky, filling his silvery gray eyes with the image of stars, some of which were the exact same color as his eyes. Brom, seeing this, did the same. Together, the two of them, as companions, watched, waited, and listened. For what, both of them did not know—but it was a good kind of not knowing.
Sooner or later, exhaustion finally got the better of both men. A yawn emitted from Faolin's mouth, and that broke the concentration of both him and Brom. Preparing for bed, Faolin lay down next to Arya while Brom took his own space.
Brom fell asleep promptly, but Faolin remained awake a little while longer, still staring up at the sky—even though he was tired. Finally drawing his eyes away from their starry gaze, he brought them back down to earth to face an equally beautiful sight. Shadows threw themselves across Arya's face, giving her somewhat of an ethereal appearance. Her dark hair spilled out from behind her on to the ground in a sea of ebony. Her eyes, closed over the expanse of bright green that Faolin knew lay underneath, appeared the exact image of peacefulness.
Faolin let out a gentle sigh. Shyly, he reached out an arm, tentatively wrapping it around Arya's waist. The female elf shifted slightly in her sleep, but otherwise made no move. Breathing a sigh of relief, Faolin fell asleep, not bothering to think of any consequences that would happen tomorrow when they both woke up. He was indulging in the bliss of now. Right now, at this moment, he was thinking with his heart—and that was all that mattered.