galen (elerron) wrote in thedas, @ 2010-06-10 00:56:00 |
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As soon as she was facing in his direction, he turned away so she couldn't see that he'd been watching her approach. Galen couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so self-conscious. He was by no means a lothario, but most women didn't make him half as nervous as she did. Few were worth the effort it took to run a hand through his short dark hair so that it was just tousled enough, and shift his posture so that he didn't look anxious to see her. But he couldn't help himself; the sway of her hips grabbed his attention every time she walked across the campgrounds, and for her to turn those big brown eyes his way caused his pulse to quicken. She was beautiful and hardly seemed to know it, which made her all the more attractive to him, but all the more uncomfortable to speak to when she clearly had little interest in dwelling on her appearance. Pretending that he hardly noticed her arrival, he cast his gaze back down to the trousers he'd been patching. Galen drew the needle into the air at the same moment that her footsteps came to a halt a small distance away, pulling on the sinew until the thread was taut and giving it all of his concentration, even if sewing was a skill he was actually quick and good at performing. He had his mother to thank for that. His needlework was neat, each stitch evenly placed and tightly securing the scrap of leather to tear in the knee that he'd acquired nearly a week ago. The young woman cleared her throat for his attention, not at all bothering with a formal greeting or manners before laying out what she had to say: "Danya wants me to train you." Finally, Galen looked up at Renna, who would have folded her arms over her chest were she not holding a bow in one hand and a quiver in the other. Her own items were still strapped her to back as expected. He wasn't sure that he'd ever seen her without her weaponry close by, even when they ate or slept, the curved piece of wood like an extension of the huntress' body, another limb. "Really?" he asked, and felt immediately stupid for being incapable of wit or eloquence in response. If he were an onlooker to this situation, he would have winced at his dumb reaction, but being in the moment forced him to maintain a completely neutral expression. She couldn't read his thoughts, no matter that her piercing stare occasionally made him think otherwise. But she wasn't looking at him now. Instead, Renna toed at the dirt, crunching the tip of her boot on an invisible bug as she said lamely, "I told her I thought it was a bad idea, but she's the Keeper, so..." He felt a sinking sensation in his chest at her words and her tone of disinterest. Again, he could hardly form a full sentence to reply with, only managing to utter, "Oh." The single syllable answer was what he thought to be the best way to conceal the disappointment and slight sting to his ego that he was experiencing, yet somehow the emotions must have slipped through, as both of her brows shot up and she shook her head. "Not because you're not-- I mean, it's not you," she began apologetically. The petite woman sighed and looked away again, "It's just that I'm not very experienced compared to others. I've only shown Keth before, and you've seen how good he is at this. Couldn't hit the broad side of an aravel. Not on purpose, anyway." A wry smirk made its way onto a corner of her mouth, though Renna's head was still angled away from him as she stared off at the crest of the hill nearby. Even well armed as she was, she looked strangely vulnerable at that moment and all he wanted was to be able to comfort her somehow. There was a pause, the gap in conversation filled by the rustle of leaves as birds darted through the lush canopy overhead. Quietly, he said, "I don't think he's a reflection of your skill, as a hunter or a teacher." Galen stopped, wondering if he'd been too forward or sounded like he was being flattering even if he was sincere, adding meekly, "If it's any consolation." She looked at him again, cocking her head to one side arching a fine brow. Her look was one of skepticism mixed with pleasure. He didn't know whether that was a good or a bad thing. "Thanks..." murmured Renna, suddenly bashful as color spread across her cheeks, rose creeping into the skin under the darkly inked vines. She straightened up, shift in posture an indication that they ought to move on, and it was a transition he was grateful for. The huntress took two steps closer to where he sat and held out the objects she carried, "So. Here's your bow. Temporary one, anyway. If you get good at it, Master Tollan will make you one of your own, eventually. This was mine when I first started practicing archery." Hands free, she planted one on her hip and let the other hang at her side. Gingerly, he took the bow first and the quiver next; even if he hadn't thought it all the more precious for its previous owner, he would have examined the ranged weapon with as much curiosity and care as he was then. Galen had never actually held a bow before -- archery wasn't exactly a well-practiced skill in the streets of the alienage, where close quarter combat was much more common than ever having the chance to pick off an enemy from a distance, though he knew of a few elves in Denerim who felt differently. He'd grown accustomed to concealing blades if a violent situation ever came to that, but learned quickly that those skills were comparatively worthless out here. A well aimed arrow was easy to send flying through the underbrush and far more difficult to dodge from yards away. Resting the quiver against his leg, he held the weapon in both of his hands, turning it around to see the delicately carved lines in its face and feel the weight of it in his grip. From the corner of his eye, he could see that she was watching him with amusement, like an adult looking over a child with a new toy. Galen laid it across his lap on top of the clothing he'd been needling at and looked up at her. "I'll take good care of it, I promise," he said in full earnesty. She shook her head, laughing gently, "Oh, no, don't worry about it. It's kind of a piece of junk, anyway." It was obvious that she wasn't the sort to think much before speaking, as she only realized the flippant degradation of the item in question wasn't reassuring in the least after the words came out. Renna gave him an awkward, twisted half-smile, attempting to salvage the remark, "But it will still shoot true, if you work hard enough. Speaking of, I've set up targets over this way, if you're ready to practice. Come on." She rolled the thick green stem between her fingers, plucking off the soft petals with the other and letting the early evening breeze carry them to the forest floor. Renna had a habit of keeping her hands busy, never an idle moment. It was impossible for her to just sit still without fidgeting in some manner, whether it was shaking her leg or pulling at an invisible loose thread on her clothes. Little mannerisms like that drove him slightly mad, but he had never pointed them out and would never think to tell her to stop. Especially not now, sullen as she already was, elbows on her knees and hair falling over her face as she perched next to him on the long dead log. "I...shouldn't be upset. It's not as if I even liked him very much. This is stupid." Renna sat up and threw the barren stem on the ground, where it laid surrounded by an array of white. Her empty hands searched for something else to pick at, coming to rest on the flaking bark next to her leg. She didn't look at him, and he was torn between wanting to leave her alone to sulk in peace, and wanting to draw her into his arms. He didn't do either. "It's not," Galen replied quietly. Her frown only deepened. She waved her hand dismissively as she keened her head in his direction, but continued to look at a point behind him as she sighed heavily, "No... It's not your problem. I shouldn't have said anything." The elvhen woman shifted forward and away from him, preparing to get back to her feet. Impulsively, he raised a hand to stop her, but returned his palm to his lap before it could reach her wrist. She had stopped moving upon seeing him start the gesture anyway, and resettled on the mossy makeshift seat. "It's fine, Renna. I don't mind listening, if it helps you. If it makes you feel better, to get it off your--" Don't talk about her chest, she'll think you're a pervert, he chided himself, and by the slight upward curve that had appeared at the edge of her lips, she had noticed his self-correction. At least something he'd said had lifted her spirits, even if it was insipid. He finished his thought, "To vent, I mean. They can't expect you to be happy about being..." "Dumped? Rejected? Laughed at?" she interjected, tone dry and sardonic, though there was little amusement behind it. The mood swings drove him slightly mad, too. He'd grown up with his sister, it was something he was used to, but that didn't mean he had developed an appreciation for the abrupt changes. He still never knew what would set Renna off or make her smile, even after seeing her almost every day for the last nine months. Women were such strange creatures. "I don't think anyone laughed." She rolled her eyes. "Well, I feel like the butt of someone's joke. I know I always complained about the arrangement, but I didn't think that I'd be the one keeping my end of the bargain. I was going to do it, you know," Renna finished with utter seriousness. He wasn't particularly fond of the idea of seeing her marry another man, and it bothered him no less that she was adamant about going through with the ceremony, but that it made her unhappy to have the plan fall through was no pleasure, either. "Even if you didn't like him," he murmured. Renna shrugged her thin shoulders, and sighed again, sounding almost wistful. "Even if I didn't like him, I was going to be wed on Summerday, I was going to be a good wife and I was going to have a family. But now..." she trailed off, wrapping her arms around herself, insulation against the world. It was his turn to avoid looking at her. Galen felt like such a coward, but he had trouble enough admitting to himself that he had found someone in the world still worth caring about. To express his feelings to the person they were directed toward was more terrifying than it should have been. There was nothing to lose if he just kept it to himself. But she looked so sad, so heartbroken over the idea, that he hated the idea of keeping the truth to himself. He couldn't look at her directly, but he could least say aloud, "You can still have all of that. He's not the only man in the Brecilian who would want to marry you." There was no response for the longest time, which was in some strange way a relief. It was better than what he anticipated -- a sneer or a laugh, the most brutal rejection, nevermind that Renna wasn't normally that callous. Blunt, bold, a little oblivious, but never cruel. Finally, he glanced in her direction. She had lifted her head, and was peering up at him from beneath her thick, dark lashes. Their eyes locked in that moment, and she began to lean in, head tilted just so, her breath warm against his cheek as her lips came close to his. Abruptly, she stopped and pulled back. Her hands flew to her face as an attempt to hide her shame. From between her fingers, he could hear her say breathlessly, "Galen... I don't think..." He got up quickly, practically leaping to his feet. Just when he thought he knew where this was going, what she thought of him, she managed to fool him again. He felt like such an idiot, and even a bit of a jerk. The elf paced forward a few feet, distancing himself physically and emotionally from her. He ran a hand through his hair, so much longer than it had been when he'd left Denerim. Living there felt like an entire lifetime ago, but her reaction reminded him that it really wasn't. He wasn't born Dalish, not like the clansman she had been looking forward to settling down with. It was a delusion to think that he could measure up to the man she wanted. His voice came out oddly strained as he tried to apologize, "Sorry. I shouldn't have-- I know I'm not--" "You're sweet. And I like you--" "As a friend, right? I'm being stuck in the friend region. Shit." He winced, though he kept his back turned to her. It was easier not to see her face as she spoke; then he could at least imagine that some part of her looked pained over the situation. She sounded conflicted, though. "No, I mean.... I don't know." "Don't worry, I've gotten this speech before. I'm a big boy. I can handle rejection," replied Galen, no longer trying to conceal the bitterness that was clenching his breaking heart and causing the volume of his voice to raise as he continued between grit teeth, "So if you're not interested at all, just say so. If I'm not good enough for you, if I'm too much of a flat-eared city boy--" He had whirled around then to face her, no longer able to keep his resentment to himself. Renna was more upset than he'd imagined, her eyes glistening with moisture. The last thing he wanted to do was make her cry, even if he wanted her to feel at least a little guilty for leading him on for that brief second before shooting him down. "Shut up! That's not it, not at all. You're being unfair," she barked back, and he felt even more rotten. He should never have said anything at all -- everything he did tonight managed to make her even more upset, the opposite of his intentions. He was admittedly not very good at thinking about others first; she wasn't the most sensitive person, either, but she made him want to try. She made him want to do anything he could to see her happy. It was a strange compulsion. Renna wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, sniffling once, "Gods... Galen, I just got my engagement called off. Even if it was only a relationship in name, it's a big deal to me. I want to tell you that I'm comfortable with the idea of being with you right now, but... Just give me some time to think, please?" Her words were sobering. She wasn't the only one who needed time to consider things. Galen inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, dipping his head in a nod, giving in to what she had asked for without hesitation, "All right. But just know..." He paused, swallowing the lump that suddenly formed in his throat as he made his confession, "I care about you, Renna. I haven't cared a gods damned bit about anyone but myself in such a long, long time. If he doesn't want you, that's his loss. But even if it's not with me, you'll get what you want someday. I know you will." With that, he turned back around and stalked into the darkness of the woods at dusk. She was looking at the sky, searching for another constellation to point out to him, her slim neck draped over his arm and her head nestled on his shoulder as they laid together underneath nothing more than a thin blanket. But he wasn't looking at the glittering stars; instead, he was running his calloused fingers over the smooth skin of her cheek, tracing the sienna lines of the vallaslin patterned on her face. Soon enough, he would have his own blood writing -- hers was dedicated to Andruil; he didn't know what his would be, though someone had mentioned that Danya thought it would be Dirthamen, Keeper of Secrets. "Did it hurt?" he asked, a non-sequitor from their previous discussion, but she didn't seem at all confused by what he was talking about. Renna turned to face him, the ends of her hair tickling at his bare chest as she did. She said solemnly, "A little. But I didn't let myself make any sound. Do that, and it's over." He nodded, "I know, a sign of weakness. I'm not at all surprised you made it through." She reached down to grab the edge of the blanket and pull it further up, covering herself as she recalled that day, "I almost didn't. If Keth wasn't watching... I was trying to be brave for him, show him that I was strong enough to take care of both of us. Prove it to myself, too." She fell silent, and he opened his mouth to tell her that she didn't need to prove anything, but Renna had already changed the topic as she curled into him, one of her legs crossing over his. "My parents would've liked you, I think. For a flat-ears." He didn't say anything at first, and Renna thought for a moment that maybe she'd hurt his feelings. She threaded her fingers between his, a gentle, soothing gesture to indicate that she hadn't meant any harm. But that wasn't the problem. The derogatory term was a joke between them now, though he'd hardly taken offense to it the first time someone in the clan had said it and meant it to be rude. Galen knew where he'd come from, and he was just as ashamed of his heritage as they wanted him to feel. He rolled flat on his back, letting the back of his head rest on the makeshift pillow of their balled up clothing, "Wish I could say the same. The old man... He always thought the Dalish were a joke. He didn't see the point in clinging on to a history of loss and defeat. My mother, maybe she would have been happy. I don't know. I can hardly even remember her as ever being really, truly happy..." He frowned. Renna propped herself up on an elbow and leaned over him, planting a soft kiss on his lips. If she was trying to distract him, it was working. Instinctively, his mouth moved against hers and he wound his fingers through her hair and brought her body closer, deepening the kiss. Eventually, they separated for air and she shifted to rest her head comfortably on his chest. "I'm sorry..." she murmured. He stroked her cheek lightly, smiling at her, "Don't be. My parents made their choices. If my father wants to waste the rest of his pathetic life on draining whiskey bottles, and my mother thought she would be better off in the Beyond, so be it. I've made my choice, though, to be here with you. And I'm happy." "I love you." It wasn't the first time anyone had said those three words to him, but this would be the first time he could respond with the same and actually mean it. |