"You know, I think this is probably the most pleasant leg of our journey yet?" Arielle reflected.
"Just might be." the warrior answered with a light nod.
The road led them across flat land, close to the sea and in a place where the road banked gently to a wide seashore, Eden veered off onto the rather coarse, dark brown sand and Arielle followed her. They rode alongside each other at the edge of where the sea met the sand, the horses kicking up a gentle spray that cooled off their now shimmering legs.
"You probably like the sea, don't you?" Arielle asked, shifting in her saddle a little, "Since you spent all that time observing the ships at port in Venetia, hm?"
"I feel fine out at sea." Eden answered with a shrug.
"I'm not that fond of the sea at all. For some reason I get seasick every time. I just need to walk the length of the ship and I end up hanging off the starboard side, nearly green as a turtle for the rest of the voyage. No, I'm definitely a dry land kind of lady."
"You're lucky I'm not a pirate then." the warrior replied with a tiny grin in the corner of her mouth.
"I could really imagine you as one though. Your black hair tossed by the wind, a cutlass at your hip... Eden, Scourge of the Mediterranean." Arielle announced, sweeping her hand out in front of her, "Has a certain ring to it, don't you think?"
The warrior only raised an eyebrow in response, but the grin didn't leave her.
"Well," Eden said after a few moments, "I'm not that fond of the water. All the numbers and charts in merchant trading simply bored me. So I'd go down to the port and watch the ships sailing in and out, wondering what strange lands they came from or were going to. Or I'd eavesdrop in on mariner's tales. It was much more interesting."
"I can imagine that your father wasn't very pleased with that." Arielle added in a knowing tone and watched the warrior's face suddenly darken.
"No." she answered, trying to keep her voice even, "He would find me, practically drag me back by my hair, always saying something about how no good was to come of me. We went back home after a short time."
"I'm sure my parents were positively thrilled with the fact that I get seasick." the bard mentioned, trying to lighten the mood, "They would likely both get the fits if they thought for a moment that I might want to start sailing around the earth."
Both women abruptly turned their attention to their horses who had begun to nudge each other back and forth.
"What do you think they're doing?" the bard asked with amusement, "It almost seems like they want to play."
"I don't know..." Eden mused.
Arion's behavior was a little strange to her. As far as animals were concerned, she could probably safely swear that there was no other as similar to her as he was. He was neither playful nor trusting so this sudden lighthearted behavior on his part was a little curious. She tried to carefully yank Arion away from Xanthus, but he would only snort impatiently and go right back to nudging the chestnut stallion.
"Maybe... Maybe they'd... Perhaps we could... race?" Arielle offered with some uncertainty.
"Race?" Eden repeated as if she had never heard of the concept before, "Hmm..."
"Come on, Eden, it will be fun!" the bard encouraged.
"Fun?" Eden repeated still with the same tone and now blinking at the bard.
"Um... it will be refreshing, a bit of exercise for all of us, and a quite welcome change of pace."
"Ah, well... I guess there's no harm in it." the warrior finally decided.
"But just one condition- you don't get to do that flying thing." the bard added playfully and saw the warrior raise an eyebrow, "Please, the chivalrous thing to do would be to at least give the poor, fair, young maiden a chance, wouldn't you agree warrior?"
Eden saw the mischievous twinkle in the bard's eye and the playful grin and realized that, quite simply, she couldn't say no.
"All right." she drawled, giving a bit of a mischievous grin herself.
"Good. We'll race to that large point over there. Is that sea wood? Looks like sea wood to me. I can't really see from this far." the bard chattered until she heard Eden clearing her throat suggestively, "Right, so we race to that... point. The winner... cooks dinner."
"Agreed."
"I say... go!" the bard shouted happily and took off in a frenzied gallop while Eden shook her head with some amusement.
"Well, you started this." she sighed to Arion matter-of-factly, "So, yah."
Arion shot forward like out of a catapult. Never one to turn down a challenge, just like his rider, he soon caught up with the bard and teased them by riding neck and neck with Xanthus, yet showing relatively little strain or effort. Arion then rode around the back of the bard to the other side and showed that he could do the same thing riding through the surf, happily splashing everything around him. Near the finish point, the black horse casually sped up and crossed it first, winning the race. Eden spun around to see the heavily breathing chestnut pair pass the finish point and the bard reined Xanthus in as she approached Eden.
"I swear I said nothing else than 'yah'... once." Eden stated, raising her hands up slightly in innocence.
"Alright, alright," Arielle replied, raising her own hands in surrender, taking deep breaths, "A smart woman knows when she's outmatched at the very beginning. But you have to tell me what you feed that horse of yours. Minced wind? Essence of rabbit? Freshly picked lightning, perhaps?"
They gazed at each other for a few moments, their eyes playfully twinkling, both of them noticing the light smile on the warrior's face responding to the bard's big grin.
"Come on," Eden said, turning back down the shore, "Let's eat."
"That's a challenge I'm always up for!" the bard admitted happily.
They decided to catch some fish and Eden took out a line and hook from her saddlebag. They walked over to a large rock that jutted out into and over the water and Eden handed the line to Arielle and waited. The bard looked a little anxiously at the warrior, but put on a determined face and began to swing the hook overhead, finally throwing it out to sea with such force that she nearly fell in with it, Eden's quick grasp the only thing saving her from an unexpected swim. The bard grinned sheepishly at the staring warrior and then put her hands on her hips.
"This would probably go a little better if I could just shoot the fish with an arrow, you know." Arielle noted.
"Where did you learn archery?" Eden asked, taking the line from the blond.
"Remember when I told you about the hunting trips my father would sometimes take me on if I complained enough?" she began, seeing a nod from Eden, "Well, I would often watch them shooting since I didn't have much else to do. I don't know what it was, maybe the way the arrow sails through the air, maybe how the bowstring sings, the power and quiet of it all; it simply fascinated me... Well, during one trip, I simply hopped off my horse and picked up a bow someone had left against a tree, took an arrow, and let it fly. The hunting party saw that, asked me to do it a couple of more times, the arrows all landing in a cluster. The party clapped and cheered and I probably turned thirty different shades of red. My father's good friend, Sir Edwin, one of those respectable knight types, told him that he was so amazed that he offered to teach me archery himself. Thankfully, my father was surrounded by people he wanted to keep in good standing with, so he couldn't simply ignore them or shout at me so he agreed. And that's how I learned..."
"Well," the warrior drawled, getting ready to cast the fishing line, "I guess your father should be proud."
"Ha!" Arielle replied with a cheerful snort, "If I know my father, he probably thinks I staged the whole thing."
Eden caught a fish in one try which got a playful huff from the bard. When the warrior placed the fish on the sand, the bard looked up at her with an innocent grin so Eden crouched down with a sigh and showed her how to gut and fry a fish over an open fire. They ate, adding some bread to the rather small fish, watching the sun begin its descent from its crest in the sky, as content and at ease with their company as they had ever been.
They remounted and trotted further down to the end of the shore and then back onto the road. They talked some more about different, small things, like fishing, the color of the sand, the distance left to Jerusalem, both pleased with the day.
Yet with the fading light, the bard watched something begin to change in Eden's demeanor, casting a shadow over her face. Almost like the day that slipped into the black shroud of the night, so did Eden, her troubles and scars awakening and creeping up to the surface like nocturnal creatures. To Eden, the night brought a certain bizarre kind of relief, she could melt into the darkness and become one with it and... hide. The hope that the day carried within her would finally collapse exhausted in her mind and let her doubt and despair stretch their limbs, trudging back and forth along Eden's already trampled heart. The warrior's hope was in dire straits. It was the weakest kind, the hope that appeared by its own sheer nature. There seemed to be a reason, Eden mused, why it was said that hope dies last. Yet, the warrior was too weak to fight for it and nurture it. She awoke not in the hope of a new day, but simply because she woke up and had no other choice but to rise and survive until she lay back down again to dream empty, black dreams. She often thought that she would have nothing against not awakening one fine day. No, the night was more her friend and she would sit in silence, surrounded by the dark and quiet, watching her misgivings and hurt creep over the remains of her soul with tiny, raspy taunts.
The change the bard saw saddened her. Each flicker of warmth from the warrior seemed to disappear as quickly as it emerged, leaving the bard to wonder if she had even really seen it at all. Ever since the night she had slept in Eden's arms, Arielle kept searching for telltale signs that the warrior was changing her attitude towards her, no longer seeing her simply as an annoying tag along and showing the heart she kept locked away under all that armor. But her own heart sunk a little when she noticed that the days and nights after that one just returned back to the usual; the bedrolls separated by the fire burning in between, the gruff, short responses to the blond's monologues, the long stretches of silence. Arielle didn't want to admit it, but she found herself missing that closeness a little. There was something bewitching in the warrior's presence, in the way that Eden held herself like a deeply hidden secret left in plain view. And she discovered a safe haven in Eden's arms that housed such a gentle strength; when wrapped in them Arielle felt that she was protected from everything the world might throw at her. It fascinated her to no end. The same arms that could have easily snapped bones and ripped away limbs were careful in their treatment of her as if she was made of holy glass and locked her not in a cage, but enveloped her in a protective armor. Arielle didn't know what exactly Eden kept hiding and why she was so intent on keeping it hidden. It was almost as if she was scared. But how could the dark menace of the Holy Lands be scared of anything?
That night also wasn't far from Eden's mind, there was something that had been gnawing away at Eden persistently since then. That touch. No one would ever believe her if she had talked about it, no one could ever understand. Even if a person was nearly completely lost, there was always a relentless, if faint urge for the closeness of another human being; a smile, a touch, a laugh. And Eden had believed that she had already won that war and sent that human urge deep beneath the sands until the night she comforted Arielle. It had awakened something within her long asleep, her walls shook, her heart rattled its cage, her arms ached dully. Her skin hadn't stopped burning, remaining a constant reminder now of a path she swore she would never go back down, but now somehow found herself turning towards. It was too dangerous, too risky, potentially... deadly. So the little, dark voices in her head had a festival with her and her weaknesses; ranting and raving in her head over how pathetic, worthless, and soft she really was. Something was gnawing away at that little ray of warmth she had experienced, trying to swallow it and plunge her self back into the chilly darkness where she belonged. But the stubborn, little ray wouldn't take darkness for an answer.
They arrived in Tripoli when the sun had already hidden from view and the dark was almost enough to force them to stop for the day. They were looking forward to eating a solid, hot meal and sleeping somewhere else than on the ground. They found a room in the first inn they decided to enter and went upstairs to leave their things in it before finding a tavern. Eden gladly took off her armor right down to her gambeson and Arielle did likewise. Eden noticed the bard unfastening her short sword, leaving her dagger as her only weapon. The warrior moved to protest, but on second thought said nothing. She knew that the bard was no warrior, no killer. She could tell by her stance and she knew it the day Arielle let her arrows fly into the Turks, making sure they hindered, but didn't kill. Arielle smiled at her warmly, catching her looking at her and Eden gave a ghost of a smile in response, deciding then and there that she probably wouldn't have wanted the bard to be in any way more similar to her.
They walked downstairs and went back to a tavern that they had passed on the way. They stood in its entrance, giving it a cool scan. It was pretty full, but not packed, stirring up a racket of voices, dishes, and movements and a fog of blending smells. There seemed to be almost every kind of person inside, from milkmaids to warriors, with a few misplaced gentry crammed into a far off corner, shooting off disapproving glances into the middle of the tavern every now and then.
"Could you... Would you do something... for me?" Eden asked a little warily, leaning a little closer to Arielle so she could hear over the tavern noise.
"Of course. What is it?"
"Could you, um... just... I... I wouldn't want to get... drunk, alright?" Eden finally stuttered out with a little embarrassment, "It gets... rather... ugly."
"Alright..." Arielle answered, her brows creasing a little.
She could somehow feel that the warrior was uneasy, but she thought it would be better not to ask.
They found a spot at a relatively empty table and sat down across from each other. They ordered food and drink, yet the bard noticed that Eden hardly touched her dinner and instead preferred the ale. The tavern keeper was a burly man with what Arielle thought might be the widest shoulders she had ever seen. The tavern maids scurried about with their orders, weaving in and out of tables and people. A bard was trying to tell a story near the fireplace to what looked like a group of only irritated people.
Eden was on her second ale when she suggested that Arielle go tell some stories since the performing bard was now having rotten vegetables heaved at him from every side by the annoyed crowd.
"Go on now, have some fun." she said loosely, feeling the ale begin its pleasant unravelling of her tension.
"Well... I could, but... I think I should... Are you sure? Are you going to be okay?"
"I'm fine. Go on. Be a bard." Eden said, shooing the blond away with her hand.
Arielle looked at her warily, feeling somewhere in her gut that something wasn't completely right. But she decided to ignore the feeling, thinking that it would do no harm and that they would be within sight of each other. She got up slowly and saved the terrible bard by digging him out from under the growing pile of vegetables and taking his place.
"Now friends, from far and wide, young and old, ladies and...gentleman." Arielle started and received a low chuckle from the men gathering around, "Let me tell you the tale of a fierce warrior, a mirage of the sands..."
Arielle told one story and then another and another, losing herself in them, the crowd of attentive listeners growing. She had turned down so many offers of ale that they began to bring her cider, mead, fruits, and anything else they could think of, encouraging her to moisten her tongue and lips and continue. The bard had loosened up pleasantly under all the drink and interested gazes of the doting crowd.
Eden was drinking her fifth ale, noticing it was much stronger than it seemed and knowing that she should stop, but she had passed the point where she was sober enough to care. A group of men was loudly exchanging war stories, evidently under the influence of generous rivers of ale and beer. They roared in laughter when their last story was finished.
"Bet you haven't heard a tale like that, have you miss?" the man sitting closest to her asked, nudging her with his elbow all of the sudden.
"No, can't say that I have." she replied coolly, raising an eyebrow.
"It just knocks you off your seat, doesn't it?" the man asked excitedly.
"Well, no, not particularly." she answered with a shrug.
"Ha! Did you hear that boys? The lass here says that story was a bit dull!"
The men took a look at Eden and roared in laughter. Eden didn't lose her cool demeanor.
"Alright, alright. Amuse me fair one. What was wrong with my tale, eh?" the man asked with a drunken grin, turning back to Eden.
"Well," she drawled, getting dangerously brazen, "it's just not the most exciting thing I've ever heard. Or interesting. Or clever. Should I go on?"
"Oh, wasn't it then, fine thing?" he replied, his voice teetering on the edge of a growl, "And you have the most daring tale up your little sleeve I'll bet."
"Actually, I do," she replied, mimicking his tone.
"Well out with it then, maiden." he said, leaning back at little and folding his arms.
Eden told them some raiding story. It was full of galloping raiders, burning buildings, terrified women and children, cut down villagers, plundered homes, devastated lives, rich spoils, ravaged lands; generally all the things that any raider usually ever talked about. They listened to her attentively. It wasn't the storytelling that held their interest. It was the fire, blood, and terror that they wanted, that ran through their veins and made their hearts pump faster. Those same things coursed through Eden's veins now, but she noticed that they instead began to make her stomach churn and she tasted bile in her mouth.
"Ah... Well, I have to say lass, the tale was a good one." the man admitted when Eden finished, his comrades all nodding in agreement and raising their cups, "Sounds like the handiwork of Karas. You told it well."
"I'll let him take the credit for all the terror and havoc." Eden almost spat out, starting another ale, the band laughing.
"Come to think of it, haven't seen him around for a while now." he admitted.
"Hard to be out and about when you're pushing up the flowers."
"So the stories are true, are they? You saw his grave then?"
"No, I put him there." Eden stated simply, no longer caring how reckless she was being.
The grin disappeared from the man's face and he finally took a more serious look at Eden.
"Aye, they did speak of some kind of a fair demon who cut him down in laughter. You know maiden, I knew him well."
Her blue eyes flashed in a whisper of potential menace and he knew that she was telling the truth. A uncomfortable silence fell upon all of them and she could barely hear one of the band nervously reaching for the hilt of his sword. The man took a breath and leaned in a little towards Eden.
"He always was a damned bastard, wasn't he?" he stated with a reappearing grin.
A roar of laughter scared away the tension and the man clapped Eden on the back.
"Aye, a fair deed you did for us, sending that carrion to the worms. I'm Jarin and that lot are my band. And what do they call you, lovely?"
"The fair demon." Eden replied flippantly.
"Oh!" Jarin cried out and slapped his hands against his lap, "Aren't you a feisty one! But alright, maiden, no harm. But you won't let me let your cup run dry, now will you?" he suggested, his drunken grin growing wider as he slowly shifted closer to Eden.
Eden knew she was in exactly the kind of trouble she didn't really want to find herself in. She knew that all of the things she was thinking right then weren't supposed to appear in her head. But it was that gnawing; she wanted it to finally stop. She wanted to drop into the darkness, let herself submerge in its black pitch where it was quiet, calm, and familiar. She gave in to the darkest part of herself; she wanted to self-destruct.
"And they say chivalry is dead." she replied, a devilish grin spreading across her lips.
"Oh!" the whole band roared and toasted her as Jarin called for more ale.
They drank, told stories, and competed amongst each other in terms of better tales, longer or deeper scars, richer spoils, and greater strength. Jarin shifted ever closer to Eden until he was practically draped over her, his arm over her shoulders, his lips whispering barely coherent things in her ear. Eden felt disgusted with herself and relished in the feeling. This was all she would get in life, her darkness told her. This was all she deserved.
That thought was disrupted when the bard suddenly appeared at the table.
"Oh now, where does such fine beauty come from? Is it something in the water here?" Jarin noticed, jostling Eden around a little as he bellowed in laughter with his friends.
Eden looked up drunkenly at Arielle who was peering down at her strangely. Eden was about to let herself be crucified by an emerald gaze of contempt and judgement, but she couldn't find it. Even in her near drunken stupor she saw no contempt, no guilt, no judgment. She tired harder, with all her might, and still there was nothing harsh there. The emeralds looked at her with compassion, question, and hurt and it sent Eden's mind spinning in the opposite direction that the ale had it going and it began to make her sick.
"She's been traveling with me." Eden blurted out.
"Aye, has she now?" Jarin replied, "I wouldn't mind that myself!"
Again the laughter, the ale spilling from cups and mouths, the awful squeeze of Jarin's hand on her waist and a sick kiss on her cheek. She hadn't taken her eyes off of Arielle and now there was something new appearing in that forest green and Eden hoped it was disgust. But the new thing spilled out of her eyes and swept over her whole face and Eden recognized it. It was self-reproach that the bard hadn't been there and let Eden slip.
"She's my friend." Eden mumbled out absently.
"Is she now? Well sit down, little lass. Any friend of this dark dame is a friend of ours. We all know what a rare commodity friends are!" Jarin bellowed, taking a huge gulp of ale.
Arielle looked around the table in silence and slowly sat down, not knowing what else to do. The men slid closer to her, offering her ale which she politely declined, all the while trying to ignore their drunken stares and licking of lips.
"So fair maiden, you're a story teller, are you?" Jarin slurred, turning to Arielle who was seated beside him, "Are you known for good bedtime stories as well?"
Eden watched as the bellowing laughter and growing stench and closeness made the bard very uncomfortable. She cringed under the noise and innuendo, but said nothing.
"What is it, little bard? Has your tongue gone stiff? Let me help you with that, lovely." he said and threw his arm around her and tried to give her a drunken kiss.
Arielle yelped and shot up out of her seat and away from Jarin. The whole table roared, except for Eden who was still watching her closely as if she couldn't believe that the bard was really there.
"I'm going back to the inn." Arielle stated firmly and began to walk out of the tavern, passing Eden.
"Wait a minute," Eden mumbled, awkwardly getting up, "I'll walk you."
"Hey now," Jarin protested, stumbling up as he watched his two prizes walking away, "what's the rush? The night is young, the ale is good, the company fine!"
"No, thank you." Arielle said sternly.
"Okay then, lass. I can see you'd like a little quiet." he said, stumbling towards her, "How's about a real brave man walk you home and give you quite a story to tell later, hm?" he suggested and grabbed the blond's rear and pulled her towards him.
Jarin didn't even have time to blink when the blond was torn from his grasp and his gaze was lifted by the cold point of a dagger under his chin to meet a frigid pair of blue eyes, flashing angrily in instant sobriety.
"Tell me, Jarin, are you suicidal?" Eden asked in a tone so low it practically slithered across the floor.
"N-n-n no." he stuttered, shaking his head, "Twas only fun, lass. No real harm meant."
"Go back to your troupe. And if I catch you even looking in her direction, I'll turn you into a story with lots of twists and turns, understand?"
Jarin nodded and Eden let the dagger down enough that he could move away and stumble back to his bench. The bard saw the stares from the men turning to Eden and the itchy fingers dancing around their swords.
"Let's go." Arielle told Eden in a tone that the warrior couldn't decipher.
They both turned around and left and only when they walked out of the tavern, into the cool, evening air did Eden's drunkness hit her again and she stumbled, nearly falling over. Arielle was there and caught her at the last moment by the front of her gambeson. They stood face to face, the blond holding the warrior in two fists and resisting the urge to shake her out of her senses.
"What are you doing?" Arielle asked still in that strange tone.
"I don't know. Talking, drinking. Arm wrestled with five guys. Won every time." Eden replied with a drunken grin.
"No, I'm asking you what are you doing? What is this, Eden?"
"I'm trying to unwind, alright? Can't a woman have some fun?"
"Fun? This is fun for you? Getting so drunk you can't walk straight? Almost getting into fights? That doesn't sound very fun, more like dangerous."
"And so what if it is?" Eden yelled, tearing herself from Arielle's grasp, "What difference does it make to anyone anyway, huh?"
And then Eden saw the disappointment in Arielle's eyes, both in herself and in the warrior and Eden thought she was going to drown in it.
"Look around you! I'm not superhuman. I'm no god or angel. This is my world! This is what I get! This is what I deserve! That's all!" Eden yelled and then grabbed Arielle by the jaw and glared straight into her face and the bard was almost overwhelmed by her fear and the stench of ale, "Look at me! This is all that I am!"
"No!" Arielle shouted and pushed the stunned warrior away, watching her stumble back a couple of steps.
The push had jarred something deep in Eden. For her the feeling of being pushed away was all too familiar. It didn't really matter at the moment that she had deserved it; the ale had loosened all of her meticulously placed constraints and she felt her bones and muscles tremble as the flood of everything she always kept locked away began to wash over her.
"Everything else has been taken away." Eden finally shouted in an angry sadness, throwing her arms around wildly, rocking on her feet, "I have no family. I have no friends. The only thing I'm good at is destroying everything I touch."
"That's not true..." the bard tried to argue.
"True?! What do you know about the truth? What the hell do you even know about me, hm? You come prancing in all happy and carefree like this is some adventure from a children's tale. What do you know about anything?! I could just slit your throat right now for all you know, couldn't I?" Eden shouted and drew her dagger.
Arielle raised in arms out in front of her, now realizing what the warrior had meant by saying "ugly"; she was potentially very dangerous. The bard fought back the strong urge to run away and tried to control her breathing. She kept her gaze on Eden and put all of her suddenly wavering faith in the hope that Eden wasn't drunk enough to forget who the bard was.
"Eden... calm down, alright?... Put the dagger away..." Arielle tried to calm, her voice shaking.
"Oh, no! Insane desert bandit has gone out of control! Everyone run for your lives!" Eden taunted and then lowered her voice, "There is a difference! You know what the difference is here? Between me and that horse manure inside? I would never hurt you. No... I'd hurt myself first... That's the difference, see?"
Eden flipped the dagger neatly in her hand and placed it up against the side of her own neck, her face with an expression of deadly intent.
"Eden, stop it... That's enough now..."
"Enough of what? We all pay sooner or later, duchess. Why not sooner? Come on, princess. Tell me how wicked I am. How pathetic and ruined. That even God Himself will sigh in relief over my corpse. That it's all too late. Tell me, tell me how damned I am beyond salvation!"
"Eden, stop it, please. You're scaring me."
"Scaring you? I'm scaring you?" the warrior repeated, lowering the dagger and her tone, "Did it ever cross your mind that maybe I'm scared?"
Arielle blinked at her a couple of times.
"For the love of God Almighty, do you have any idea what it's like when I'm scared?!" Eden began to yell, her hands balling up into fists, "Or sad or alone or exhausted?! No, you don't. No one does. I am a warrior with no heart and soul in the end, right? But I'm not, damn it! I'm a person just like any other! If you cut me, I bleed, if you run me through, I die... And I used to laugh, princess, you know? I used to laugh, I used to care, I used to see a future. And now?!" her voice began to break and tremble, her anger quickly spent, "Now... I can't remember when I last laughed... I didn't want to be this, I really didn't... I just didn't know... It was just too much... all of it... over and over... just so much... it wouldn't stop, it just wouldn't... stop... And now... I'm a monster..."
Eden glanced at Arielle, seeing the fear in her face. She glanced down at the dagger in her hand and looked at it as if she had just noticed it and had no idea how it got there. She frowned at it and sheathed it, dropping her hands to her sides in defeat.
"So that's the story, young bard," she said quietly, her whole body trembling just as much as her voice, "of a dragon born only to whither away forgotten, washed up under a bridge."
Arielle took a few steps forward, slowly lowering her hands. Eden looked at her with a quizzical interest.
"Come on, Eden," the bard said quietly.
"I'm tired, you know? I'm just so very, very tired..." the warrior admitted, her shoulders slumped in defeat.
"I know, I know... Come on, let's go home."
"Home?" Eden repeated in surprise, "I have no home."
"You have a home for today." the bard answered gently, "We'll worry about tomorrow in a day, hm?"
Eden thought about it for a few seconds, feeling the cool evening air starting to soothe her racing mind and heart.
"That sounds like a plan." she stated, her tone turning a few shades warmer.
"Alright, let's go then." Arielle said with a small grin of relief and reached out for the warrior's arm.
"No!" the warrior announced, moving her arm away from Arielle's hand, making her jump slightly.
Eden raised her hands to show she meant no harm and took a deep breath.
"Arielle," she said decidedly and calmly, "whether we part ways tomorrow, the day after, or in a hundred years, you will never carry me in dishonor or embarrassment."
Arielle looked up at her in understanding and with a small feeling of... pride.
"Sounds like a plan." she repeated, the smile on her face widening.
They walked back to the inn quietly. Though Eden was now walking rather normally, Arielle observed her out of the corner of her eye just in case. When they were finally back in their room, Eden ungracefully flopped down on the bed, wanting to simply curl up and die. After a while, she heard Arielle set some tea on the little table beside her bed.
"Why?" Eden asked, thinking the question so hard that it found its way to the surface out loud. Why don't you hate me?
Arielle looked at her closely and thought for a minute.
"Because you're my friend," she replied carefully, "and this is not all you are."
"I'm revolting..."
"No!" Arielle said sternly and crouched beside the bed and looked at Eden, resisting an urge to stroke her face, "You're brave, gentle, and protective, you just choose not show it. My God, Eden, you would have sliced a man open in defense of me! How many people, how many friends would do something like that?"
Eden let the thought seep into her brain whose defenses were weaker than usual thanks to the ale. She wasn't sure those words were true and even if they were, she didn't know what she was supposed to do with that truth. Or was there anything that could be done? Yet her mind was in too much of a whirl to debate and analyze the point now.
"Yeah, but I guess I might have overreacted some, huh?" Eden asked with a tiny grin.
"Maybe. Just some." Arielle echoed with a slightly larger grin.
"A little."
"Minutely."
They both smiled lightly. Eden lumbered around, taking off her gambeson, belt, and boots and Arielle did the same and slid into her bed. They lie there for a while, on their sides, looking at each other quietly. Eden lay in hushed captivation for a while, Arielle's emerald eyes sparkling in the dim torch light lazily seeping through the window. They shined like a promising beacon in the blackness, calling Eden forward, away from the shadows that were pulling at her. The gloom was familiar, it was already hers, yet this prominent little light continued to fiercely glow, adamantly beckoning the warrior out of that detached gloom, waking her heart and soul from her eternal midnight, calling her name with such an incredibly loud silence. So she decided then and there to forgo the starless and sunless twilight for something that reminded her of the frail power of a candle flickering on a holy altar. Those eyes...
"Arielle?" the warrior mumbled across the space between them, her eyes half closed already.
"Hm?"
"Never again... I... I promise you..."
Arielle smiled warmly and watched the warrior's eyes finally close and her breathing slow in slumber. The bard then rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She was never as aware as she was now of the potential danger that the warrior posed towards her person. Eden was filled with so much sadness and anger that she couldn't even start to wrap her mind around it. And what was worst of all, Eden seemed to carry within herself a nearly boundless hate... towards herself. Her brows knotted at the thought; the bard couldn't make sense of it. How could she feel so safe and protected in the arms of someone so violent and troubled? Yet a stubborn reoccurring notion swept over her that she had something she could give Eden, maybe a crumb of the things the warrior hoped for and needed so that at least a fraction of her soul could find some peace. Yet, Eden seemed scared of the very things she so desperately needed. And Arielle's mind then tripped on a thought. Even death is nothing to someone who doesn't have anything to lose. Perhaps losing something is exactly what Eden feared. Arielle closed her eyes and was slowly lulled to sleep by a soft, little hum of the part of her that had begun to reach out to Eden since the day she had fallen asleep in her arms.
A figure approached Eden from the quiet gray. Long, raven hair. A strong, powerful frame. Piercing, blue eyes. A sword, armor, and dark, green wings. Eden said nothing until the winged woman stood right across from her.
"Don't ever do that again. Especially around Arielle." she said, her voice taking on a low and rumbling register like a distant thunderstorm.
"Who are you?" Eden asked in a quiet wonder after a moment because she had never seen anyone like her before.
"Don't ever do that again." the woman repeated, taking a step forward.
"I won't." Eden answered, not even having to think about it.
"Good." the woman said, turned around, and left.
The next morning, Eden seemed a bit more busy than usual and used every excuse she could think of so she wouldn't have to face the bard. She packed quickly and then went down with the saddlebags to the waiting Arion.
"If you had only seen me yesterday..." Eden said to him as she started brushing him and he whinnied and snorted, "Okay, so I wish you hadn't seen me yesterday..."
She could have kicked herself to Constantinople for the way she had acted the evening before. She had made a fool out of herself, put Arielle in danger and as well as herself. And, interestingly enough, she was enough irritated with the fact that she hadn't heard a single one of Arielle's stories; she was too busy feeling sorry for herself. Eden huffed loudly at herself. She put the brush away and walked over to Arielle who had just come down from the inn and was adjusting her saddlebag on her horse. The bard turned to look at the warrior who was standing in front of her as if she was awaiting an execution.
"I... I'm an ass." Eden said bluntly.
Arielle looked at the warrior, standing there very unsure of herself, her hands fidgeting around her belt. She knew what she meant and it tickled a place in her heart because she knew it was difficult for the warrior to say and she had, of course, found a very interesting way of saying it. She smiled.
"Good, that's settled then." Eden said, clearing her throat and spun on her heel and walked back to her task.
When Eden was out of sight, Arielle raised a hand to her mouth and stifled a giggle, shaking her head in amusement. Sometimes she is so... adorable.