thren_canondais (thren_canondais) wrote in thedas, @ 2010-10-19 22:39:00 |
|
|||
"Let it go," Thren muttered, trying fruitlessly not to draw more attention to himself than the belligerent old dwarf already had. Anxiously, his eyes darted to the left of the camp, followed by a sweep to the right. There were some villagers moving about, familiar faces from the tightly woven community ducking down their heads as if they hadn't heard the beginnings of another argument. Tensions had been high between Thren and his adoptive father, they had been for weeks, spurred on by the fear that a two year old secret would be uncovered as they prepared to leave, and the rather populated return of a Chasind prodigal daughter. New eyes in the camp, even those as temporary as the Dalish under Aedre's protection, upended things. Despite the two years spent there, Thren knew that it was time to move on. He didn't need Po to say it, and he certainly didn't need him to harp on it, "We do this each time. If we left tomorrow, I would get along. You would get along, just like we always have."
Podren set his lips in a fine line, expression drawn into a wizened yet challenging manner. Those days, the dwarf's face had been a map of their travels; each wrinkle and sunspot marked places that they had seen together, even though that far too many of them had seen by Po's lonesome. He breathed in with flared nostrils and a jaw wound so tightly that his teeth ground. "So I'm a fool for caring? Hmm?"
Thren felt his own anger rise in response, his shoulders going rigid in irritation. "Of course not," He said after a moment, recognizing that this on some level, wasn't Po's fault. It wasn't his either. Apostacy required a nomadic life, and two years spent anywhere was a blessing. He raked his hand through his hair, scratching at the base of his neck as he tried to find a more even tone. "I understand that we have to leave. I apologize for my tone," Thren immediately offered. To him, fighting with anyone wasn't pleasant, but a moment of hostility toward Po equated to at least an hour of guilt once Thren was calm.
"You're damned right that you are," The dwarf reached up to jab Thren in the center of the chest. After a few seconds, and another apology from the boy, Po dropped his finger and took a step back. His expression softened and he hesitantly clapped a hand around Thren's arm with a reassuring squeeze, "You've learned a lot. It's time."
Thren shrugged, feeling out of sorts.
"It's a shame too," Po's eyes flashed with a hint of mischief that Thren had long since learned to fear. The boy immediately groaned, preparing himself for whatever revelation was spinning headlong in his direction. "The only pretty thing to look at in the whole sodding village was gone the whole time we were here. Back now that we're leaving. Pity."
"Irony," Thren corrected, not caring one way about the girl or the other. She'd been reunited with her brothers, as far as he could tell, and then almost immediately she'd sequestered herself into the elder's hut. He'd only seen her in passing, and wouldn't even call her an acquaintance. She moved around, not far from where they stood. Po's appreciative glance followed every languid motion, approval written boldly over his features. Thren almost snorted with disbelief, "So fight over? That was remarkably easy."
Po waved a hand, in a decidedly 'stop-talking' dismissal. He rubbed a hand on his chin speculatively, "You know what they say about women who wears nothing but animal skins, don't you?"
Thren blanched, cutting the dwarf off before he could finish, "Maker's Breath, she's going to hear you," His eyes shot wide, disapproval written all over his face. "Besides, you can't talk about people like that." He bashfully corrected, with all the commitment one would expect of a teenager who had tried (and failed) to curb the behavior of a stubborn parent.