[h3]Change[/h3] A very Stormy Schafting [@Leidenschaft] [i]14th Sun’s Height, evening[/i] [hr] The mood of the camp had changed rather tremendously that night, there was a quiet and almost silent peace cast over the camp like a comforting blanket. Everyone had a full belly, and was watered and washed, the Breton could breathe easily knowing that they would survive for some time yet. That same soft quiet was a comfort to her as she made her way barefoot across the cold stone ground in search of a secluded spot. She no longer felt as weary as she had been, and it showed in the way she carried herself now. No more did she drag her feet and point her chin to the ground. Now, she moved with a delicate and effortless grace, the same way she had before everything. She no longer resembled the ghost of a woman. Now she sat as pretty as a nymph in a billowing dress with fabric as soft and delicate as the petals of a rose. Her long ashen hair loose and cascading in thick and unruly curls. In her hands, fruit. Fruit in a wooden bowl, finely diced - the scent sweet and inviting, a pleasant aroma that blended with the now familiar smell of forest - of pines, wild flowers, and rain soaked rock. Of campfire smoke and coals, of venison roasting behind her. This was her meditative moment to enjoy the taste of food, to enjoy the fresh air - to appreciate the nourishment, to think and be. Raelynn absentmindedly began to stare out at her dimly lit surroundings while she ate slowly. She took small bite after small bite - like a bird would. Somehow, her mind quietened and any thoughts and concerns that had been in her mind left, and all that was left was a feeling of calm. Footsteps, and the the shuffling of someone sitting next to her. Neither presences acknowledged the other for a few moments, simply enjoying one another and the calm. The fading light dyed the spaces between the trees black, but a long ripple of orange and pink above the mountaintops was the signs of day. The sounds of mountain crickets and frogs replaced the birdsong and the chill grew colder and nipped at any bare skin it could. “Home.” Finnen said, leaving the word to the breeze until it faded over to the whispering of the trees, “I remember why I missed it.” The woman offered a welcoming smile to Finnen, closing her eyes briefly, before meeting the deep amber of his. She gestured to the bowl, now in her lap as she too listened the serene ambience of the evaporating day. For a while she said nothing. “It's really rather beautiful, actually. More so than I would have thought it to be. I've missed it too.” Naturally, she did not mean the Reach, she was not of the Reach and nor was she of Skyrim, but the unique atmosphere of the province was unmistakable. “I remember walking these same mountain paths years ago. To be back here and see the same trees, the same rocks, the same mountains…” he looked out at the distant pillar of green light, knowing well that that was the most recent addition before he turned back and continued, “It’s like wandering back to when I was younger. In all my years, I thought I’d never come back. Cast out, branded traitor. I wonder what mother would think of what I am, what I’ve done.” And again, he looked to the green pillar. Remembered the desperation that day, the fear, everything. “Do you ever wonder? What your family would think of you now? What the person you were would?” “All the time,” she answered quietly with shame in her voice. She knew that her father had said he was proud of her, but he was disgusted too - it was obvious. But Hawkford family values were far different to those of other people, they had to be. Her mother would be more so. Slowly she wrapped an arm around her stomach. “I’ve changed a lot. In good and bad ways. My life before all of this was… Easier.” “Wasn’t it.” Finnen nodded, “I never thought I’d be on some crusade to save the world. I never thought I’d do half the things I’ve done. But, I guess that’s how life is. Like Jaraleet says, the river will take us where it will.” Finnen snorted, his easy smile upon his face, “If anything,” he hesitated at the dumbness of his next words, “I met all of you.” “Wasn’t expecting sentiment from you tonight,” she said warmly in response, smiling back at the Reachman, her own was the usual small and shy smile that she displayed. As if she was still getting used to smiling openly - really, she was. Reflecting back on the person that she had been... That Raelynn rarely smiled, and not out of unhappiness - it had simply been her haughty nature. “I don’t believe I’ve laughed so freely and sincerely as I have on this journey…” She confessed in a nervous whisper all of a sudden, bringing a hand to her forehead as she slouched forwards. “That’s rather strange, isn’t it? Considering all we’ve been through.” The supercilious Raelynn of time gone by had not been much for laughter, either. Finnen chuckled, looking over at his friend. She had changed, from the Gilane infirmary to now, and so many places in between he had not seen. It was like she was a new woman in the old’s clothes. “To be fair, considering all we’ve been through it isn’t really that strange.” “The family that almost dies together stays together.” He said, somewhat sardonically, “And I’m full of sentiment.” He pulled the polished piece of ebony from his pocket, holding it in his palm and rubbing it with his thumb. “I’ve kept this for years to remind me of the good parts of being a Reachman. To remind me that we aren’t all savages.” His mother’s smiling face as she stroked her boy’s bruised jaw and kissed his split brow came to mind, the soft feeling of her lips on his tender wounds, a memory of long ago, “Not all of us.” “After all of this, I'd like to be alone somewhere… At least for a while, to rest.” Raelynn admitted as her eyes traced the movements of Finnen's thumb against the stone. “You've never been anything but the bard to me. Soft, observant, watchful.” She took in a deep breath, thinking over how much she actually really knew of her fellow Breton. She knew that when she looked into his eyes they were as deep as an abyss - turning over with all of the things he had seen and done. Things and events that were not for Raelynn to know. “I mean to say, you're not a savage. Not to me.” She carefully placed the bowl down onto the ground, letting one hand fall into her lap as the other wrapped around her middle again. She smiled. “Everyone seemed to enjoy their food tonight, thank you for leading the provisioning run…” “It’s nothing.” Finnen shrugged, chuckling as he remembered the words of Francis, “It’s something to do.” “I couldn’t have done it without everyone else. I’ve never been good at alchemy and foraging. I’m only glad I could do my part.” He smiled. “Best to leave the alchemy to me, and you stick to what you do best,” she said softly, returning his smile. “In just the same way that I shan't be jumping up to fight our enemies head on as you do.” It wasn’t entirely true, she’d practically thrown herself at Rourken in the palace, and she had been training with Jaraleet… Training was training though, she’d never held a blade at someone who would cut her down first. Training was hypothetical. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you have some skill in restorative magic too, yes?” Raelynn was acutely aware of the fact that without Brynja, her workload had doubled. If she could help some of the others in learning a basic spell or bettering a technique… The entire group would benefit, it was at least food for thought... “I do,” he nodded, “Very rudimentary. I couldn’t save a life, but I’m sure if someone pricked themselves…” he chuckled. “I can help you with that. I mean, I’d like to show you how to heal more than a pricked finger,” she said back, looking at him closely. She could not look for too long, without feeling the reminder of his words from the campfire and the guilt that always followed. Raelynn looked the other way and the two shared another moment of silence before she broke it. “I’m sorry.” The words were quiet, and but a whispered breath that didn’t pierce the silence but rather tumbled away against it. Her fingers curled against her palms awkwardly, like a defensive recoil. The quiet continued. Finnen looked on even as Raelynn turned from him. For a few quiet beats, he watched her. The image before him now brought back the ones from the infirmary. She was hunched about herself, as if trying to offer a smaller target to the world that seemed set on taking everything from her. Finnen frowned, knowing why she’d said it, “It isn’t me that needs the apology.” He let that sit for her, so she could turn the words over in her mind, “I know how it is.” He said, quiet and consoling, “Truly. You look at me now, so different from the shivering whore in Wayrest I once was.” He rubbed his hands over each other, gathering strength. Each recounting of the tale picked at the scabs left by his days in Wayrest, “There comes a point where they don’t even need to raise a fist. Their hooks eat deep into your very soul. They can beat you half to death and then run a bath for you, coo into your ear, gently wash the blood from the wounds…” “And in that little respite, you forget they’re the ones who gave them to you.” Finnen’s jaw set, he looked to Raelynn again, “Did he hurt you?” She listened. She listened and she let her thoughts settle before turning them to words. This was Finnen, he hadn't broken her trust yet, had he? Her fingers began to steady, and she allowed herself to look at him - at the battle he was having with the memories of his own traumas. She remembered him sharing that with her, and here he was again being honest. It was only fair she do the same. “Yes.” It felt like a weight had been lifted. Like a boulder that had kept her stuck beneath it had moved - more still, that she had been the one to roll it away. “In here,” her hand moved to her chest. This was not Raelynn telling this to shock, or to incite rage in another - but to allow herself to heal. She and Gregor had made their peace with what had happened that night, and while it wasn't a tale she was going to whisper in the ear of anyone who would listen, she would let herself tell one soul. “That night… It was a beautiful night.” She said her voice clear but wavering. “I remember a purple sky, I remember the sounds of the celebrations, the smells. Fjolte, Sora and I… We'd smoked. We meditated and shared an experience that restored my magicka. I was happy…” The Breton glanced down at her hands, at her palms. The scarring on the left that now seemed as though it had always been there. It had taken the form of a comet, or a burning sun. “We made love, and then he… He changed. He wasn't Gregor anymore. His words were hurtful. All I wanted to do was stop him from what he was going to do.” “I know you all wanted to kill him when you found out, Finnen. You, Gaius…” Her head turned to face him before she spoke again, her eyes filling with the first sign of tears. She grabbed at his hand, as if it would help him to realise the severity of her words. “Believe me when I tell you, that I was going to do it that night. I tried [i]so[/i] hard to stop him.” “And now?” Finnen asked, searching her eyes for what the answer would be before she spoke it. “It was Gregor that came back, only Gregor. Now he's just… Sad, distant, all the time.” The woman brought her knees up to her chest, resting her chin there with a quiet and steady sigh. “Tell me Finnen, how far would you go for Daro'Vasora?” “Anywhere I had to.” He said, remembering everything. From her guarding him closely as they traipsed through the Dwemer ruin, from him swearing off peace when he thought the Dwemer had taken her from him, wanting to tear Zaveed’s head off when he paraded her around. “Everything. I’d do everything and anything to keep her safe.” “Being honest?” He chuckled, “I hope I never have to prove it… more than I have. But I would.” “I’ve never been brave. Not once. I’d be happier to hide behind someone, hell, that’s what I used to do in danger,” she joined him in his humour, laughing back. “But Gregor… He makes me ferocious,” Raelynn’s lips curled to a snarl and her eyes narrowed. She quickly softened. “I hope I never have to prove it either. But I would.” She placed a hand below each knee, letting her thumbs sit there and draw small circles. “Does love make us foolish? Or does it make us better?” Finnen sighed, letting himself fall onto his back and stretching his arms out. “Both.” He said simply, “I’ve never assaulted a Palace in Hammerfell with a handful of people before. I’ve never shivered in the dark in a ruin with only another person for company. But love starts somewhere, and it only roots itself deeper as it goes. I’d think everything I’ve done so far with her by my side has been damned foolish.” He laughed, and then sighed, his expression softening, “But I like to think it’s made me better. I regret none of it.” One of his hands reached towards Raelynn, his friend, “Raelynn,” his words came soft, “Make a promise to me, if you will.” “Hmm?” Her gaze pointed to the hand that was outstretched, his careful dainty fingers, “what is it?” She asked quietly, already wondering what it may be that he would ask. “Promise me you will never sacrifice yourself over to love. Every day I’m afraid that I’ll… that I will do something horrible. Sora swears she’ll never leave me if that happens, but I told her if I treated her horribly that she has every right to leave.” He said, his once merry expression turning dour, “That she should leave. If Gregor hurts you, you’ll leave him. If anyone hurts you, you’ll repay them in kind.” “Love might make us foolish, but it should never blind you to seeing the bad things. I felt like I failed as a friend to you when I learned about Gregor. I’m so sorry that it reached the point it did.” Finnen got up once more, leaning on his hands as he looked at Raelynn, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything about that. I needed to though. I felt like he was beating you in front of me and I did nothing.” Raelynn brought her thumb to her mouth, running it side to side over the fullness of her lips while she listened to Finnen, it was an awful thing to imagine his own regret and pain. “I don’t want people to keep seeing me as some [i]victim[/i]. First of Zaveed, of my own father, now of Gregor… It’s hard sometimes to even look the people with us in the eye.” The Breton unfolded her legs, letting them hang once more over the edge. She forced herself to look at Finnen again, despite her admission. “Tell me, what do you see when you look at me?” As quickly as she had looked at him, she looked away again as if immediately regretting the question. A hand came up to her forehead to obscure her face. Finnen took her in. If he was being honest with himself, what he knew of Raelynn lended more to her being a victim. But that’s not what she needed to hear. And that wasn’t what he wanted her to be, what he wanted her to stay, “I see someone who’s ready to be who they want to be. Someone who is trying very hard.” Her lips parted and she sighed, “I can promise that to you. I think I can… But I want for you to make me a promise in return.” He nodded, “Anything. Go on.” “Be kinder to yourself,” she began while nodding her head slowly, turning to face him so that she could place her hand atop his. “Everything that has happened, everything that you’ve done has made you who you are… You’re not the split of many sides. You’re who you want to be.” Raelynn edged ever closer to him, moving slowly to place her free hand on the back of his neck. “Promise me that you won’t take on things alone.” She tried to let her voice be hopeful, she wanted that. To be a silhouette of hope instead of pain… “I see you trying very hard, too.” “For what it’s worth… I think your mother would be proud of the man in front of me.” “I promise.” He picked up the polished ebony and held it, looking at it before he turned his head away from Raelynn and wiped his eye, making like his face had an itch. “Thank you.” He said quietly, “Raelynn…” The last vestiges of light in the sky had vanished and night was uncontested by the sun, yet the moons were not yet high enough to cast shadows of the trees in their pale light. Even so, his hands began to glow just bright enough to lend his soft smile to his voice, but dim enough to be anything but comfortable. He smiled at Raelynn, soft and easy, “Would you stay with me a bit longer?” Raelynn let her arms fall to her sides, hand face down on the surface of the rock. She almost asked him [i]why?[/i] in an unusual, confused tone. A shaking of the pompous confidence she had displayed outwardly for so long on their journey. She held it in. It still continued to surprise her that someone would enjoy her company simply for what it was. She was grateful for the darkness that concealed the redness on her cheeks when she realised that. For a short while, she couldn’t say anything - and instead just enjoyed the feeling of being genuinely [i]wanted[/i]. In this case it was for nothing in particular, and was humbling. The words that she eventually gave him were as humble as the feeling that resided in her spirit. “For as long as you’d like me to stay, yes.”