Collecting Legends
by Shadowy Star
Legend FiveIt was that late at night one could call it early in the morning.
But then again, a town like Sheva never slept. There was always business of some legal –and many more of the illegal sort– to be finished under the night's velvet cloak. That had increased immensely since the Forest had been set on fire. Without the Hunter out there in the night it had indeed increased immensely, Larissa thought. The freedom to walk the streets in the night was still an incredible feeling. She didn't think she would ever grow used to that.
The bar 'The Serpent's Heart' was surely one of the most dubious in Sheva but Larissa didn't care. She'd needed a distraction from her problems, no, scratch that, from her life that was actually a single big mess. A very big mess.
She gave the barkeeper a hollow smile and ordered the next drink. She'd had much more than she probably should already and definitely enough for a single night but that did not stop her. Patrick be damned for doing this to her! How did he dare leave her? It had seemed so right at first, it had felt so good…
She was lost in memories of happier times when the door opened and a young, good-looking man entered. His posture was weary as if he'd traveled long and hard, his clothes covered with dust.
His steps, nonetheless, were steady and certain in the dim light as he walked to the bar and took a seat. Very good-looking, Larissa reconsidered when finally light hit his face. His eyes were jade-green and tired, she saw. His hair was a vivid shade of auburn, falling down to his shoulders.
He ordered water, earning an irritated glance from the bartender that clearly said: 'Have you lost your brain, boy?'
The stranger, however, seemed to sense that and looked at the short man. "I've been on the road for three days without pause." He smiled tiredly. "If I drink anything stronger than water I'll probably throw up everything I've eaten before right here onto your bar. Would you prefer that?"
"Ugh, no!" the barman said. "Most surely no!"
"See, I knew you'd understand," the green-eyed man smiled cheerfully.
Larissa laughed out loud. Good joke, she thought. She left her seat –not without some difficulty walking– and took the one next to the stranger.
He turned his head to look at her, his eyes very focused for the briefest of moments, as if scanning her for danger and dismissing – an acute alertness of someone used to danger and to dealing with it. Larissa knew that look – it was second nature to half the male populace of Sheva. Yet, there was nothing aggressive about that young man, just something that made her feel …well, save… like never before. Maybe it had something to do with those green eyes, calm now and warm…
She didn't know how it happened but only a few minutes of small-talk she caught herself at telling him all her problems, the break with Patrick, her loneliness, all her doubts and hopes. He listened with great patience and understanding, and said words of comfort when she needed them and remained silent when she didn't. His perceptiveness astounded her. A few minutes after that Larissa was weeping openly.
When her drunken tears finally stopped falling, she made an attempt at at least appearing collected.
From his small approving nod she was obviously succeeding.
Larissa smiled, all the alcohol in her system making her bold. Gods, he really looked good. She leaned over and placed her hand onto his. So much for subtlety, she thought. To Hell with subtlety, the more drunken part of her brain insisted. Yes, she agreed.
The stranger's calm green eyes crinkled with amusement as he recognized her flirtation for what it was. However, he still took her hand and gently removed it from his.
Larissa looked at him, confused beyond words. She knew she was an attractive woman.
"I'm not that drunk!" she said. "Is it because of that?" Dammit! A town like Sheva and she managed to run straight into – what? The last knight on Erna?
The stranger smiled openly, as if sensing her thoughts. "Part of it, yes."
Part of it? Larissa thought, fuming silently.
"Look," he said, his tone very polite and very distant, "you're attractive and I understand your situation, I truly do. You may think you want this but believe me you don't. You'll wake up tomorrow –or maybe today, I can't tell how many drinks you've had anymore– and ask yourself what the bloody Hell you were thinking to have sex with a man you've known for no more than five minutes."
"I don't care!" Larissa exclaimed. Why the Hell wasn't he interested? Was he married? A quick glance at his hands told her he wasn't. No rings on either hand. Then a girlfriend?
"Oh but you do. Trust me, you do." His voice held a trace of humor as he spoke.
She searched his eyes then for that special sort of proprietarily contentment men often do have when they have a relationship. Either he was really just that knightly or… It was then when it struck her. Sobering considerably, she took a closer look at him, trying to see what was behind that handsome face. His beautiful jade-green eyes were not that of a young man at all. Not by a long shot. They were like deep pools of experience, showing only a reflection, giving away nothing.
"Somehow I don't believe all's left to you is seducing innocent travelers." He went on and smiled a sweet, lop-sided smile. "Not that I would pass for innocent," he added with not a little amount of bitterness though his smile remained in place. All right, Larissa thought, her instincts of a journalist kicking in, time to make an educated guess. Her curiosity and her intuition were what made her that good at her job.
"Who is she?" she asked.
The green eyes now clearly showed incomprehension.
"The woman who broke your heart," Larissa clarified.
The stranger looked at her in surprise, then gave her a noncommittal smile. For a moment Larissa was sure he wouldn't answer. Then, the look in his eyes changed as if he was considering whether to answer honestly. Oh, a hard nut to crack, she thought. She was sober enough already to sense the reluctance in the young man's voice and words but not so to respect it, and so her resolution only grew stronger. She would crack that nut. Besides, she often had been told she just never knew when to stop. Maybe that was part of her problem with Patrick, it dawned on her belatedly.
"One left me for her work, the other died," he finally replied, somewhat cautiously as if listening to something, as if he wasn't sure he was allowed to say that. Then, he relaxed a little, and Larissa took it for a good sign. "There were many before… None …how did you phrase it again?… 'broke my heart'."
"Then who did?" Larissa asked again. And for a moment, just for a split second, she could sense a hurt in him, a wound so deep she shrunk away before the jade-green eyes grew hard, now reminding her more of emeralds, hard and cold, their surface impermeable. It was that fleeting impression that made her stop. And against all her instincts and all her curiosity she didn't ask twice. For behind the stranger's warm eyes and polite tone, behind his kindness and perceptiveness and all the understanding there was something strong and unyielding, something that told her even in her drunken state that there would be no way past it no matter how hard she tried.
"Good luck to you," he said by way of good-bye.
And that was it.
She watched him rise and pay for his fourth water and leave the bar and she just couldn't help the feeling of an intense sadness that crept up her throat as if she'd had caught a glimpse at something good and perfect that now was lost to the world.
TBC...