Night had fallen a few hours ago, and Spirit was unhappy to be roused from his stall and saddled, then summarily blindfolded and walked from the warm and cozy stables. Zesperis would have been excited for a midnight ride, and the pang of loss flew through him like an arrow. Now, Ewan stood with one hand upon Spirit's neck, the other on the reins, waiting where the road and the pathway up to the manor meet, and wondered at his reasons for venturing away from traditions he so firmly believed.

Storm came in view, cloak around her, and a simple pack wrapped diagonally around her front. She peered slightly in the dark, before she grinned, ?I must admit, if you were not going to be here, I was going to hunt you out.? Not that she really would, but this was all his idea in the first place. And no matter how many times she considered why she should not be going, she found herself packed and ready to leave.

?Oh, you doubted me, then?? he grinned in kind, the stitches curving slightly, but he seemed free of pain from the movement.

?I just did not take you to be the spontaneous sort,? her grin remained as she moved closer so that she could greet him with a kiss.

He shared in that gentle greeting, and then he softly broke it. ?Shall we go then??

She nodded and took a small step back. ?Lead the way then, as I haven't the faintest where we're going,? a smart grin.

A laughing query, ?Are we not?? he hesitated not sure what to call the maneuver, ?...floating??

?If you think Spirit would feel more comfortable not.. floating, I will keep up with you.?

In quick analysis, he looked to his blindfolded horse then to her. ?No, he should be fine. When we are aloft, we will be heading in that direction,? he pointed to northwesterly where a track no wider than a hand cart could just be made out between two drowsy looking yew trees.

She gave a glance to the horse then, and took another small step away from him. Not that she didn't trust him, just not when she was going to lift him off the ground. ?Hopefully it will not be so bad, as platforms are solid,? and with that, her grey eyes glowed dimly and she created the platform under them. She did not lift them very high, only a few inches from the ground, before she guided them in the direction that he had pointed. Her pace was quicker than if they were afoot, but not quick enough to play with balance. ?So? where are we going exactly??

Spirit had shifted slightly with the raising, sensing something not quite usual, and Ewan came close, crooning softly until the animal settled again. ?It is a cabin, an old retreat, of a friend of mine. It is well appointed.? Ewan quirked a grin at thinking what Gerran called well appointed, and for the smuggler, his cabin was not in that category. But for Ewan, it had all the required attributes and then some, so he continued to describe it. ?He likes his retreats to have comforts, or what I consider comforts. A hot spring feeds the cabin so there is hot water at call. He keeps the cupboard regularly stocked, but I have some provisions in Spirit's saddlebags. He just started sailing south two days ago, so he will be away for a month at the least.?

?Sailing south,? she said with a grin, recalling the story of stealing a horse and sailing south. violet] ?I would like to meet your friend, so that I can thank him.? She adjusted her pack absently, her eyes lighting up slightly as her words remind her of thanking another. ?Mmm, I forgot to tell you that I was able to meet Sylvia while you were away.?

The abrupt angle of the conversation took him a moment to comprehend. ?You did?? He muttered something about the Baroness not mentioning it to him, and then asked, ?What did she have to say? Questioned your sanity for spending time with me?? The self deprecation was accompanied by a low, brief laugh.

She chuckled and shook her head, maintaining their weight and speed easily as she glanced at him with glowing eyes. Though Sylvia did mention something along those lines. ?No, I thanked her for being in the window when I visited. She waved it off, said she was pleased to meet me. We did not get to talk for long, as Rhian came, and she left soon after.?

An even more complex situation that harbored in that last sentence, and to buy him time, he only said, ?I see.? An acute desire to know about that conversation with Rhian stirred up question he would not ask. He knew his eyes gave away the curiosity, so he looked to calming Spirit again, whom, at that moment, did not require it.

?I take it that you have not... spoken to her in a while,? she offered quietly, though she shifted her weight from one leg to the other. Even now, just referring back to the situation, made her slightly uneasy. It was an offer to ask the question she knew he had. She could practically hear his mind full of them.

Facts he could give more readily than feelings, and he answered, ?Not often. I understand she was away visiting a sick Aunt. That much Sylvia did tell me. When we do speak, it rarely goes beyond the niceties. I hope you both had a pleasant conversation.? That last was as close to a question as he would come.

She placed her hand in her pockets, finding a new interest in the ground that they were passing over. ?It was.. pleasant yes, since it revolved around you mostly.? She did her best to contain any facial reaction to that. ?She is still very attached to you,? she added softly then, her gaze still down. That was sincerely obvious, as no matter how far Storm had tried to turn the conversation around, she was hardly successful.

He looked at her, the way she held herself almost part from him. ?Does it trouble you??

Her hands fiddled within her pockets as she continued to look down. There was a small pause, before she spoke softly again. ?It does not trouble me... I guess I did not feel that it was my place to say.. anything, without speaking to you first.? Not to mention that Rhian is what she thought as the type of woman for him. Quiet, polite... human.

Treading in uncertain territory, he could only allow the continuing of this line of conversation if she understood clearly the possibly outcomes. In this, he felt himself break away into a distancing perspective. It would be the only way to give her truth. ?Is this discussion one you wish to have on our way to our week escape? I am uncertain if what I have to say will help or harm what we have building here, but I will tell you whatever you wish to know. I have not spoken of you to her, but I have not hidden my attentions either.? He would say at least that much, but no more unless she asked it of him.

It was then that she tore her gaze from the changing, moving ground to him. She bit on her lower lip as she considered her options. ?Though I do wonder of how your words will affect what we are starting here, I would rather ask than question myself throughout the week and longer.? She pulled her hands together slightly, drawing the cloak further around her shoulders. ?Do you still... feel for her??

He did not hesitate, ?I do care for her. It is less than it was, but I doubt it will ever go away. I hope she and I can retain a good friendship, as I have with others.? Others, like so many others that he had loved and been kept or turned away from. His answer was honest, and perhaps, tactless, but in such matters, in his observations, hedging words never helped, and his eyes were full of concern that she understand the truth of it all.

She took notice of the concern, before she looked down again and started to shuffle closer to him. ?I care for many others. But... I care for you.. differently.? It was as if she were pressing for just a little more details, a little more confirmation in either direction.

?As I care for you, and it continues to grow, not diminish.? Then he sighed, believing the world around them had affected not only him, once again questioning this impetuous escape, and he felt the need to defend and clarify his meanings. ?Storm, perhaps because you have seen how other men behave in this land, it is hard to realize that I do not flirt, nor play games, nor am open with affections even when I do feel them. The fact that I openly show my affection for you, I hope, will give you the certainty you need that I care deeply.?

?It's not that I doubt your affections,? she said, raising her face to look up at him again. She had not meant to insult him; she knew that he was a man separated from many that she was surrounded by. ?I just... ,? she licked her lips as she thought of a better way to explain herself. ?... want to make sure that one book is closed, before another is opened.? Her gaze stayed on him instead of retreating to the moving ground.

Was that book closed? Or, to press the metaphor further, had he placed a bookmark there to return should the outcome of the end of the story promise to change? He almost visibly shook his head. He fought against lingering around situations of his heart, to hold them in his mind to review and analyze in later days. There was acceptance, as with much of his life, that some things could not be changed. ?I have accepted that her father refused my request to court her. In my world, she is as much as forbidden, and like many other things I have learned to adapt. I feel she will find someone better suited to her than I, and I wish her that happiness.? He looked in the direction they are going, something metaphorical in that thought, and it quirked a smile as they floated upon the path winding through trees of the old growth forest.

She tilted her head slightly before she nodded and accepted his answer for what it was. His answer was not exactly direct, but she could understand, would understand. She shoved away the darker thoughts that rooted in her mind, and focused on the now. Always focus on the now. And with that, she shuffled just a little closer so that she could press her lips to his warmly.

The tenderness of the kiss brought his free arm around her and drew her close as he shared and enjoyed that kiss, then whispered against her lips with intention of lightening the conversation once again, ?Who?s steering this thing if you're kissing me?? His mouth curved into a wry smile.

She managed to shrug her pack off of her shoulder to pool at her feet, but she made no movement away from him as she also wrapped her arms around him. She grinned against his lips, ?Surprisingly enough, I am. A talent of multitasking.? Her words were true though, as she was constantly shifting them slightly to be clear of the trees, or lifting them if needed be.

?Lucky for us then,? and he kissed her again, eager for the warmth of her mouth and the soft emotion that fills him when they share a kiss.

She relaxed against him, one of the only times her guard was ever down was in his arms. Her mouth was, as always, warm against his as she dared to deepen the kiss slightly. It was really dawning on her that she had left, on whim, to be with him, even if it was only for one blissful week.

The deepening kiss stirred him, his hand moved up her back to rest in her hair as his mouth moved over hers; he knew he should look to make sure they do not go too far and pass the cabin all together, but he let himself linger in the closeness of her before he finally broke the kiss. And just in time too as they came to a clearing and quaint, but well kept up, two story cabin that occupied its grounds. ?Here we are,? he whispered against her temple

She shivered ever so slightly, involuntarily, when his hand went up her back. Once the kiss was broken, she turned her head at his words to catch a glimpse of their haven. She could have not been happier if it was anywhere else; so long as they were away. She brought them to a slow stop, before gently lowering them to the ground. She bent down to pick up to her pack and replaced it on her shoulder. ?Hmm, we really are away,? she said softly, her eyes moved between him and the cabin.

?We really are,? he kissed her forehead. ?You go ahead inside. I'll see Spirit settled,? he uncovered the horse's eyes and started to lead him to a paddock around back with a simple lean to shelter.

A contemplative look subdued his smile and he shook his head, ?Other than to give you some peace away from your troubles and perhaps give you a chance to speak your thoughts openly on whatever comes to your mind without fear of those listening in...I am at your will.?

?Already off to a good start then, aren't you?? she teased lightly, and her face showed no signs of worry to the thought. She also considered adding that he needed the week away as much as she, but in the end, she kept that to herself.

?Though,? he began again, lifting a finger briefly, then he rubbed his lower lip to chase away the forming smile, ?I do intend on doing some proper courting, though I suppose I should have written your father before hand to request his permission to do so.?

She waved her hand absently, ?That is not something.. required of you. Though, I think you will feel more comfortable if you do so anyway.? A finger started to tap silently on her knee. ?Though, I am interested in your definition of 'proper courting.'?

?I have made a right mess of this courtship actually, and I'm heartily ashamed of it,? he said as he sat up, his legs crosswise and elbows resting upon knees bringing a curve to his back. His body created a cavern ?I should have written your father as soon as my intentions towards you were returned. And I certainly should not have given you clothing. A book perhaps, or a coin purse, or something more suitable.? He had let other reasons override propriety, and he was doing it still in just being here with her.

?But you did not give me clothing.. exactly,? she offered in his defense. ?And your intentions were pure.. I do not see how you have made a right mess of things already. That does not sound like we have much of a chance,? though her lips curled ever so slightly.

?I do plan on trying to remedy the situation,? he grinned up at her. ?Perhaps I am influenced by this land more than I realized. I would certainly not have taken certain advantages of you before receiving approval to court you. But, being as I have already begun, I think it would be hard upon me to discontinue such intimacies.? His grin remained as he stretched out on the floor, arms beneath his head to prop it up slightly so he could see her more easily and the fire that his feet stretched towards.

?Well, as I recall, I do not believe it was you, who started these 'advantages'? she gave a bit of a sheepish grin then. ?And you might find opposition if you decided to discontinue them, so I suppose it is best to not meddle with such things.? The sheepishness in the grin fades as she chuckled softly and reached down to poke his middle that was exposed as he stretched out on the floor. It might have required some stretching on her own, practically on the edge of her seat, but she found it well worth the attempt.

?Oh,? he feigned her poke doing harm, his hand covered the place she touched, ?you wound me!? He laughed and triead catch her weaponed hand in his.

Her laughter matched his as her hand was caught. ?I do no such thing!? The laughter continued as she risked her spare hand towards his middle again, and balance seemed on her side as her legs braced herself in the doubling motions.

An attempt to defend himself from being poked again, he curled up to catch the other hand, all the while he tugged on the hand he captured. ?I shall be victorious against the onslaught!?

She slid off of her seat at the tug. As she tried to avoid his incoming hand from capturing hers, she continued aim pokes at him at the same time. The end result was hands flying around everywhere, though her space was limited now as she fell next to him. ?There is no onslaught!? she said through her laughter, trying to tug her caught hand free, every intention to try and poke him again.

Twisting and turning to avoid pokes, and not always succeeding, as he also tried to capture her other hand, and he decided he needs a diversionary tactic. He left off the attempt to capture her free hand and instead, maneuvered so that he kissed her deeply with the hope she would forget what she was trying to do, and in that moment he hoped to easily capture both hands.

Her tugging ceased for the time being as he kissed her. Torn between the game and his attention, she hesitated, returning his kiss. Her mind was momentarily wiped clean of her ultimate mission, and Ewan sensed he could claim both hands for his control. He moved over her slightly, the kiss continued as he lessens its intensity bit by bit, until the kiss is broken and he whispered against her lips, ?I am victorious.? and gave a wicked grin.

She was about to inform him that in her mind, he had cheated. But that would sound as if she was complaining, so she thought of something more tactful to say. ?You may have won the battle, but the war will continue on,? she whispered against his lip with a superior smile. She attempted to tug her left hand free, just to see if she was able to turn the tables, but his hand held fast against her tug. Still, she didn't appear disappointed at her loss, as she was nothing but smiles.

He then freed both hands as he rolled again to lie on his back and looked up at the ceiling, his own grin remained crooked and honest. ?Well, I've learned you?re a fiend at tickling. Something I must be wary against in the future,? he briefly laughed.

She chuckled as she sat up, at first tucking her feet underneath her. Then she realized that her boots did not make the motion exactly comfortable, and she decided to cross her legs in front of her instead. ?I would say that I've learned of your tickling weakness, but I already knew that,? she offered with a grin.

He did not correct her to the truth that he was, in fact, not ticklish; he would not tell now. He could fake it easily enough; it gave good reason for her to touch him, too. So, he turned a grin to her. ?Then I suppose you must learn something else. It is only fair. So, what would you like to learn??

?My, an opportunity to learn something of you,? she openly pondered the chance as she reached for his hand to press a soft a soft kiss to its palm. ?Hmm. Favorite childhood memory.?

He curled fingers around the kiss, turned on his side to face her, propped his head up with his hand, and asked, ?How far back into childhood? Very young or moderately young??

?Either,? she replied and moved to rest elbows on her knees and set her chin to rest lightly on her knuckles.

?Mmm...? his brow furrowed with thought as he whispered over and over, ?favorite childhood memory.? He thought back across his youth, and there were many good memories, some that he was ashamed to think of as good memories, and this process does take some time. His fingers playing with her hand as he takes the question serious. ?Well,? an idle scratch at the stitches then he dropped his hand again, ? I suppose my favorite childhood memory always has to do with Harvest Festival in some way or the other. I remember sitting in the kitchen as mother made preserves from the fruits of our small garden. She'd let me taste test. But as soon as I was of age, my father would take me out to the harvested fields and teach me his skills among the broken stalks.? Green eyes lifted to her sheepishly, ?Sounds rather ridiculous when one speaks of it out loud, I suppose.?

?It is not ridiculous,? she insisted softly and she silently congratulated herself on resisting the urge to bat his hand away from scratching at his stitches. ?Perhaps I learn more of you from that than you think,? she smiled softly. ?You have an appreciation for the simple things, you care for your family, a willingness to learn?? A finger started to tap silently over the back of her other hand.

?I have seen how easily family and simple things can be taken away,? he looked to his hands as he sat up, seeing there the things he had done, would do, to protect what she perceived in him. But he looked to her with a congenial smile, ?We should...get some sleep, perhaps? There are days and nights yet ahead of us to talk.?

She nodded her head to both things that he spoke of. ?Yes, I'm afraid that I am not the best company when I am half awake.? she said with a grin before she rose to stand, knees cracked softly in protest. She wrinkled her nose before offering a hand down to him. She knew very well that he did not need her help, but it was another excuse of hers to have her hand in his.

He took the hand all the same for the pure delight of touching her, but there was no pressure in the hold of hands at all as he rose. A wry grin, he said, ?We'll need to see to those knees of yours.? He offered a goodnight kiss.

She returned the kiss happily, her lips warm against his, but answered his comment of her knees. ?Hmm, they just started doing that after the incident,? she said absently, before a brief glance to the dying fire. It was simple really, the rearranging of molecules to take the oxygen away from the fire. The end result being, well, no fire.

He turned to examine the lack of fire, then sent a sidelong glance her way, ?Nice trick,? he laughed low.

?I have a few, I must say,? she offered with a quick grin and a chuckle.

He shook his head as he moved to the stairs and waited to usher her up the stairs to her room, as if walking her to her door as he would if he were courting her properly. She slipped past him to move up the stairs and towards her door. He followed her up and gave one last smiling look before he passed inside and prepared for sleep in his usual manner. Dagger beneath a pillow and on the bedside table, and he placed his boots nearby. With his clothing removed, he slipped beneath the sheets and comforter and pulled them up over his body, feeling their texture against his bare skin.
The first night takes place on Apirl 2.

Something in her look and the words she spoke revealed an uncertain and wary reflection on the situation, so he changed the topic. ?It was fortunate for us,? He began as he patted his trim, flat middle, ?that you are a good cook. Fine meal you made for dinner. I feel as stuffed as those fish were.? His smile was easy as he looked to her.

She could not help the soft laughter that escaped her lips as she looked over to him. ?Well, we would not have had fish if you hadn't caught them. You practically charmed them out of the water.? She grinned, as her own attempts at fishing were not successful in the least bit. It started as laughter, then frustration, until she left such matters for him. ?But I am glad you enjoyed it. I do not get the chance to cook often.?

?No? Then let me not dissuade you from indulging in the practice of cooking this entire week. I shall supply you with whatever you need.? He laughed heartily, as she offered a sidelong glance to him, before he settled into a contented sigh. ?So, you cook, you play music, you can dance, command the elements upon your dainty hand, and you knit. I wonder what other great mysteries of the Lady Storm will be revealed to me this week. Perhaps I will discover if you drool when you sleep.? He teased then he blinked at the unintended suggestion. ?But, naturally, only if you tell me.? He did not want her to think he had meant he would see it personally.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. ?I assure you that I do not.? But she then grinned and chuckled. She would have never assumed at the hidden suggestion that could have come from his previous statement, so his reassurance was already understood. She then grinned and tossed a found small wooden stick his way, aiming low as to not hit exposed skin. ?I see now, you've brought me out here for the chance of well-cooked meals.? Her eyes lit up with humor.

?My devious plot is found out.? He caught the stick with a whip quick snatch of his hand, as he then twirled the stick deftly between fingers. ?I shall have to now make sure you do not try to escape.? He chuckled, but made no move to compliment his joking threat; instead the stick in his hand was sent flying towards the hearth where it struck sharply between the snug space of two logs and caught flame. ?Do you like reading, and if so, what kind of things??

She chuckled softly at his words as she watched him catch the stick, before pinning into the flames. She quirked a brow at his mark, before she smiled. ?I enjoy reading, yes. Though it is another one of those things I do not get to do as much as I wish.? She brought her marred feet up, covered with thick material, resembling a pair of sturdy socks. She tucked her feet underneath her, being small enough to still have plenty room to shift so that she could face him more. ?I do not have a preference for my reading material. Rather it be folk stories, or philosophy. I have an appreciation for those who can manipulate words in ways I cannot.? Her mind drifted for a moment to the poet back at home, making a mental note to check up on Everett when they returned. She then tilted her head slightly, studying him. ?My guess is that you enjoy reading also, though the only book I've seen you with was more... informative.?

He nodded to affirm her supposition. ?I enjoy reading a great deal, and a great many things, but I find currently my time is taken up by histories.? He closed his eyes, but by the expression on his face, he was listening keenly to her. ?What kind of folk tales come from your home? I ask only because in my homeland, you would be a folk tale come to life. I am curious as to what you consider a folk tale. Are humans folk tales?? He chuckled, but not out of mocking, but he found the notion in some fashion appealing. That his plain humanity could be found as unbelievable or odd comforted his mind.

?Actually, some are, yes.? She grinned as each of them would be a fascination in each other's homeland. ?Back before it was found that humans can exist in our realm, there are stories of forbidden love, where neither could exist wholly.? She folded her hands comfortably in her lap. ?Stories between other elements, along with war stories and such. A bit of truth weaved in fantasy, as with most folk stories.? She paused, to think of more. ?Stories of bonding, lasting age, the beginnings of half-breeds. We also have a collection of folk stories from other realms now, and some of those are fond to many.?

He had opened his eyes and turned slightly in his chair to face her. ?Fascinating. I should like to read some of these stories some time. They sound familiar, but like melody changed slightly by a new player. Fascinating.? He said again with an eager grin, like a child who is told a new sweet shop has come to town.

The look on his face caused her to smile softly. ?The next time I'm home I will grab a book of them for you.? As she already had thought of one in particular.

?Storm, may I ask you something personal??

?Of course,? her smile did not diminish as she looked to him, curious to his question.

He was hesitant, feeling he should know the answer, but he could not manage to make it fit in his mind. ?If your bodies, the bodies of Elementals, are just shells, and if you are so discontent with the damage to your body, why do you not choose another?? He then added reassuringly, ?It is not that I mind your look, as you well know, but you seem uneasy now when you were not so before. I am curious as to the limits of the shell you claim as your body. Are you simply given one for the duration of your life? And how long a life is that anyway?? He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck idly, ?Perhaps it was more than one personal question.? His hand then drifted to rest again on the arm of the chair.

Storm waved a hand absently, letting him know that his series of questions did not bother her. ?It is fine, as they are all questions to fill in the bigger picture. Yes, I call this body a shell, simply because I can choose to not be in it. I can be nothing for you to see, a blend of the air.? She shifted slightly, adjusting her legs as one started to fall asleep. ?I did not? take this body away from another. So no, I cannot change it. What you see is a representation of me. This body is every bit like yours, in the fact of aging, hunger, and that sort of thing.? A hand then reached to scratch idly on the back of her neck around her hairline. The last question she had a harder time explaining. ?The life span varies, not only between elements, but just each other in general. Yes, they are longer than a humans, but there are other races whom are longer. Much of it depends on the individual, if they are bonded, if they are of mixed blood. If they are pure, the purpose of their creation..." She offered a slight shrug.

?Bonded?? It was the only word, and she had mentioned it earlier when speaking of folk tales, for which he could not compel an appropriate definition. ?As in service to another? That can keep an Elemental living longer??

?Ah, no.? She bit on her lower lip gently, considering. It was such a complex thing to explain, and she was not be the best at explaining it, as she was not currently experiencing it. ?Bonding is... our type of marriage if you will,? a small sigh then. ?Well, no.. and yes. It is a level above marriage, commitment wise. Do you know of the common say, that two become one in a marriage?? She frowned slightly, not sure of his culture, as many are different.

He nodded that he has heard that saying, and in fact could believe it when he thought on Sylvia and Kieran. Of a couple so completely at one they did not require overt and obvious forms of affection at each moment. They understood and knew each other from mood to manner. It had always comforted him to witness it.

Pleased that at least that was something she did not have to explain, she continued. ?Bonding is a very literal twist on that. There are a series of emotional, mental and physical steps that are taken. And they can be done in a variety of ways, and you do not have to fulfill all three different steps. But, it can completely change the relationship. For example, my father was bonded to a woman, before I was created.? She just skipped the description of bonding itself, and rather, explained what it does. ?They were bonded completely, in all ways possible. There is such a ... level of intimacy that is shared at this point. Because of the steps taken, there is the ability to truly empathize. To feel each others thoughts, emotions. It is a true tie to the other person. But,? she added softly, ?there are downfalls to such serious commitments. Because you feel as the other, if one passes.... the other most likely does also. My father is one of few that have lived beyond his mate without passing with her.? She was looking at him, seeing for his reaction. She should have bitten off her tongue before going into such detail. Her father?s warning was already filling her ears.

Storm fell into a simple pattern, taking the dish that he had cleaned and drying it before setting it with the other clean dishes. She tucked her tongue in her cheek as she recalled the day?s bringing. Rather than grinning widely, she settled for a secretive smile as she took the next offered plate to dry.

Ewan grumbled as he scrubbed at a pan. ?How is possible I could have burnt it that badly?? Not that he was seeking an answer, just dumbfounded that he was having to work so hard to clean it. ?I render myself hopeless as a cook.?

She placed the dried plate onto the others as she waited for him to finish with the pan. Her smile widened ever so slightly. ?It is something that takes time, that's all. You're not a hopeless cause or anything,? she swallowed down her laughter, recalling those words given to her as a child and her knitting. She proved them wrong, even if it was many years later.

?That's a kindness, but I think I'll stop experimenting this week, or else we might starve to death,? he laughed low and briefly. He finally felt the pan was clean and handed it over to her. ?Though you worked miracles in saving that meal. It was actually edible when you added your touch to it. I'll try not to imagine how delicious it might have been if I had not tried to cook first.? He released the water from the sink and dried off his hands as he turned to lean back against the counter, arms folded. ?How about we strike a bargain. I catch our food, and you cook it this week.?

She took the cleaned pan and started the ritual of drying it. She licked her lips, again to hide her smile as she studied him. ?Hmm, a bargain is it?? She chuckled then, opening a different cupboard to place the pan. ?I suppose that would do, for if we do not have any meat, I do not think I could save much of any meal.? Which was not entirely true, but that was carefully tucked away as she dried her own hands with a rueful grin.

His hand out for hers then to seal the deal, ?Agreed then??

She glanced down at his hand, and grinned, placing her hand in his for a firm shake. ?Agreed.?

The deal concluded, an accompanying nod, he stretched his back and his arms and grinned to her. ?So, mistress of cooking, what would you like me to catch for tomorrow??

She could not help the pressing need to poke him. Well, when one exposed themselves as such, it was hardly resistible. ?It does not matter, I can fix whatever you catch.? One of very few smug smiles.

Ewan twisted at the poke, and stood up straight, crossing arms before him, then gave a bold laugh, ?Oh-ho, I see...not touting your skill are you? Very well then. I shall make it a surprise.? He grinned cheekily and then walked towards the hearth to inspect their stock of wood for the fire. ?I think I should get a few more logs.? He did not mention the fact they had not used the extra load from last night as they had gone to bed early. He did not want to recall the conversation of last night just yet.

?Good, I think I can handle your surprises,? Another grin before she nodded, glancing over to the hearth. It did not register that they had no need really for more, so instead she was all smiles. ?That sounds fine then, I will go ahead and start the fire with what is left.? And with that, she moved towards the hearth, pressing a brief kiss to his lips on her way.

The kiss exchanged as well as a smile on his way to the door and the nearby stack of wood, so he gathered, as the night before, a load of logs and skipped the kindling as with her gift, it would not be needed.

She moved to the hearth, rubbing her hands along her breeches first before she placed the logs in a sensible fashion. She accessed her gift then, urging the fire to come to life upon the logs. It did not take long, and she took a step back once she was sure it was steady.

He returned with the load of logs, pushed the door closed behind him with his booted foot, and crouched down to place the new fuel for the fire alongside the others. ?It is a nice time of year. I like it cool in the evenings like this,? he commented casually as he rose and brushed debris from his tunic and breeches.

She made her way to the couch, sitting in the corner of it tucking her legs under her so that there was enough room for him should he choose to join her. ?Why is that?? she tilted her head curious to his response.

The space available on the couch seemed inviting, and so he settled at the opposite end and stretched out his legs to the center of the room, fingers laced behind his head, and he smiled. ?It feels comfortable enough to have a fire, but not demanding a fire that I must huddle close to in order to keep warm. It is...peaceful,? which was the best explanation he could offer, though it seemed wanting in some way.

?Hmm..,? she shifted her position slightly, so that she faced him better. ?I would have to agree. I like enjoying fires, not needing them. Or being devoured by them,? a crooked smile then, as she was able to say the last part on a more ironic note than an upsetting one. It was clear that she could find humor in the situation now, and that she was no longer fearing what once was.

That irony in her voice drew a sidelong glance from him, and he was impressed with her ability to find humor in what had happened to her, and his smile made that abundantly clear. ?I must agree with you on that, and whole heartedly,? he chuckled, and then sat in contented silence, listening to her breath, the fire pop its musical sounds, and letting his mind wander.

She understood the underlying message in his smile, and it softened hers. She leaned back slightly, fitting nicely into the corner of couch, the advantages of being small. ?Are you enjoying your time away?? she asked casually.

?Yes,? he answered honestly, then looked to her. His hands moved from behind his head to relax in his lap. ?And you??

?I am,? her face slowly broke out into a silly grin. ?Can't say that the company is too bad either,? a covered foot reached to nudge his leg. Or, she assumed she was going to, as her ability to feel pressure at certain angles did not work very well.

His leg moved at the nudge, and he grinned, ?The company is superior and definitely adds to the enjoyability of the week?? he added softly, ?for many reasons.?

?For many reasons, is it?? she chuckled softly, retreating her leg to tuck it back under her. ?Be careful with what you say, otherwise it just might go all to my ego.? Even if that statement clashed with her personality, it was worth saying as she grinned.

A laugh, and he shook his head. ?I've been duly warned, but I do not think there is much of a threat of that. You seem perfectly aware of your talents, and your affect on me. If you do not have an ego yet, you're unlikely to get one.?

?Hmm, I don't know, I do not think I've affected one like you before,? she teased still, even if her words were twined with truth. A soft sigh then, as she pondered for a change of subject. ?Will you tell me of your father, Ewan? I do not believe I have heard you speak of him before.?

?My father?? the question took him aback slightly, and other than the brief mention of his father when he told her of a childhood memory, she was right. He did not speak of his family to much of anyone, particularly about his father. ?Of course...what would you like to know??

?Whatever you are willing to tell me,? she said simply, repeating words that she had said to him before.

?Well,? he cleared his throat as he tried to think of a phrase to describe his father, ?does graciously stern make sense?? He quirked a grin.

Storm smiled softly, ?Yes, it does.? Her mind already went to the few that went to that category.

?He was the guard of the Yransea family before me, and it was he who brought me to the path of the sword,? he scratched lightly at his stiches. ?He died seven years ago.?

?I'm very sorry to hear that,? she said genuinely. ?He sounds like he was a good man, much like yourself.? She then wrinkled her nose and shifted so that she could reach over and bat his hand away from his face. ?You'll make them worse, scratching them.? she said idly, her eyes bright.

?It itches,? he complained and pouted, rather of what he might have looked like as a young boy, but then he sighed and the fleeting glimpse was gone. ?My father, Corin his name,? he was not sure if she understood the traditions of their naming, ?was a good man.?

?Corin,? a series of blinks, ?Corin?s son.? Intrigued at the concept, she leaned back into the corner again. ?Like father, like son then,? she gave a half-smile.

?I can only hope.?

?Speaking of fathers,? his smile broadens, curving the stitches oddly, ?just how would I go about getting a letter to your father??

?Ah, well?? her brows furrowed slightly, ??I can open a portal for you, and you can slip it inside. It will get to him.?

The furrowing of her brow caused his to do the same. ?I do not wish for it to be difficult for you, but I would feel better with some word for him that he at least supports our trying for a relationship before you kick me out.? he reached to tickle her knee.

She giggled, a rarity in itself, and bats away his tickling hand. ?Oh no, it's not that it is difficult. I suppose it is not something I ever think of. I know there are.. other ways, as I somehow end up with a bloody pile of letters all the time.? a wry grin.

He laughed at her giggling and stopped tickling her knee. ?Well, if it is not difficult, then I will have a letter for tomorrow that I would like have sent to him at your convenience, of course.? He then remarked, ?So, popular are you??

Storm wrinkled her nose at the idea, ?Popular for complaints. Hardly any of them are welcomed by far.? A cheeky grin then. ?There are things that I have sign here and there, but they are all mostly informative. And boring,? she added with a chuckle.

?Mmm...the strictures of being a leader. I know it will from the Baron's face when he leaves his study late at night.? he laughed low.

She laughed also. ?Yes, it is never enjoyable. Though I breeze by with most of it, as the other Guardians take most of them. I handle very few in comparison. Mostly because I am not there as often. The real reason of my 'field work', the paperwork that awaits me otherwise,? she said with a wicked grin.

He chuckled and shook his head. ?I am fortunate to not have such...responsibilities. My work is rarely documented, except sometimes its outcome,? the twist of a smile, he scratched at the stitches again, then scowled. ?These need to come out. They're a nuisance.?

She laughed, reached for the hand that constantly wanted to scratch, and pressed a kiss to its palm. ?I know they are not enjoyable, dear one. I do not think that they are ready to come out either.? but she leaned to get a better look, in case she stood corrected.

Ewan tilted his head for closer examination. ?Are you sure? I feel like ripping them out with my bare hands, not that I could of course,? he smirked.

?Hmm, it would be best that you did not do that,? Storm chuckled as she narrowed her eyes to get a better look with the lighting. ?They are healing very well though. I would say you could take them out within the week.?

?I suppose I can wait until then.? He rested his head against the back of the couch, sliding down slightly, then he motioned an arm out to her, urging her to join him in his lean so he could wrap an arm around her.

?Are you sure?? she said with a grin, shifting so that she could slip between him and his arm. Her legs were still up, but rather under her, they rested comfortably bent. ?I cannot control what you do in your sleep,? she paused only so that she could settle her head gently in the crook of his neck. ?I might have something, to ease the itch.?

His arm wrapped around her and snuggled her comfortably close to his side. A sidelong look to her, curiously asked ?Oh??

An arm went around his middle loosely, and she sighed with contentment. ?It is a cream made from this plant called numbweed. It is from the city of Katmai, the place I went to while you were away. It is usually to ease pain, but it will ease itching just the same.?

?I just might try that before I go to sleep. I think I've discovered I'm rubbing my cheek in my sleep as I wake up with it more sore looking than when I go to bed.?

She nodded before nuzzling her forehead against his neck gently, ?I will give you the bottle before then. So that way we can take the stitches out sooner rather than later, as I'm sure your rubbing is not helping.? Not that it was his fault, and her voice clearly reflected so. ?Either that or we tie your hands together before you sleep.? she chuckled softly.

?There are better ways to keep my hands busy,? and the variety of innuendos to that comment, not all of them his intention, brought his free hand up to rub the nape of his neck. ?So, what shall we do tonight?? And he realized that did not actually help matters, so he clarified, ?Read??

She tucked her tongue in her cheek as she listened to him. She of course, did not read into the possible innuendos, but she always found it interesting when he went out of his way to cover over them. ?Did you have something in mind??

Once she made it up the stairs, she continued in her silent trip to her room, where she found a similar looking chest. The only noise heard was herself opening it, and a mild stream of curses. Apparently she miscalculated the weight of the top, as it fell again on her fingers smartly. ?Bloody thing, all for a book or two,? she muttered, before opening the chest correctly, revealing several leather bound books.

He stopped his search sharply at an unexpected sound from upstairs. He rose to his feet and saw Storm no longer upon the couch. He moved to the bottom of the stairs and called up, ?Storm??

?Yes?? she called over her shoulder, pausing in her search. ?I found some, what were you in the mood for?? She then glanced at her abused fingers, wrinkling her nose at the lasting ache.

He trotted up the stairs and came down the short hallway to her room. He walked inside and moved to peer over her shoulder at what treasures of books she had found. ?Anything that will give me a good reason to keep you close,? he teased, then asked, ?What are our options??

She chuckled, her free hand moving to hold her fore and middle finger on the other, adding pressure to soothe before looking down at the chest. ?Ah... there are a few of Shakespeare's plays in here, as well as George Chapman, Richard Edwardes, and John Fletcher.? She squinted to look across at the other side, reaching over. ?Your friend has a interesting variety,? she said, holding a copy of The Divine Comedy by the Italian philosopher Dante. ?Any will keep me close,? she added with a grin.

He noted her holding two of her fingers, ?Did you hurt yourself? Let me see how bad it is.?

A sheepish grin as she offered her right hand, the fore and middle finger showing signs of little blood underneath the fingernails. Other than that, her fingertips were just red. ?Aye, seems I lost a match to the chest.?

?Ahh..,? he sighed sympathetically, but not without some humor, and touched a light kiss to the assaulted fingers. ?You should probably run some cool water over them to help with the swelling. I'll make the reading choice and meet you back downstairs.? He had his eyes already on a particular Shakespeare play.

The humor was noted, and she offered a half grin, ?Seems I cannot manage to remain unharmed for long.? And with that, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, and then stood, knees making their usual protest. She exited her room and went back down the stairs, heading for the kitchen, turning on the sink and sticking her fingers under the cold stream as instructed.

With unconcealed eagerness he turned for the collection of books and retrieved the Shakespeare play entitled Twelfth Night, and hurriedly opened it to the opening line and began to read as he meandered back out of her room and down the hall, continued easily, without looking, down the steps and over to the couch. ?This fellow was a master, and would he had come from my homeland.? He dropped onto the couch looking over the text. ?I was given to discovery of Shakespeare by Kiema. I have enjoyed reading his work ever since.?

Once the dull ache was masked by numbness from the cold, she turned off the water and dried her hand before heading for the couch. ?We have only a handful of his plays back at home, though many enjoy his work.? Storm settled on the couch near him, but not close enough to touch him. She tilted her head as to read the binding. ?Twelfth Night,? she read, mind filing through other titles, before she straightened her head to a more comfortable position. ?I do not believe I have read this one.?

Eager to share his thoughts, ?I have read it but once or twice, and it is a comedy. Separated brother and sister by a tragedy at sea, they both come upon the same land. And mistaken identities and mixed up triangles of love all come round in a merry chase,? he beamed smile. ?I recall it being not always funny, but it turns out well in the end.? He paused and closed the book, ?But we can chose another if you like.?

She raised a brow as she looked at him, ?Why chose another? I would like to read this with you, particularly one you enjoy.?

?Then if we are to read together, you might wish to come closer, or is there a reason you sit so as not to touch me?? Ewan had noted her carefully chosen proximity. ?Shall I bathe first?? he chuckled.

She slanted him a look, before chuckling, ?No, it is not that,? on the contrary, she rather liked his scent, one that she could only catch when she was close. Her cheeks then redden slightly, ?I just did not know how close you wish for me to be.? There might have been volumes behind that, but for now, it was simply used for her proximity.

He smiled, ?As close as you wish,? He reopened the book, found the list of the Dramatis Personae as well as the first scene, then whispered, ?Just tell me when you are ready to turn the page.?

Had it been any other sort of book, she would have suggested that they read it out loud. But, with it being a play, she would get lost, tagging their voices to a variety of characters. In silence was probably best. She then shuffled closer, pressing a kiss absently to his shoulder as she studied the list of characters on the page. Viola, Orsino, Olivia... tagging them to the quick note next to them. She then nodded, signaling that she was ready.

A smile as he pursued the reading of the beginning with eager eyes, his unoffending cheek resting on the top of her head and turned pages when she indicated for him to do so. He found she read faster than he, but only in so much he was sometimes lifting his head and stealing a glance to her face so he might witness her reaction to parts of the play, but it did not delay the turning of the pages, and he was glad he had read it before, for now he could enjoy it afresh through her.

She did not realize that she was quicker than he, only indicating when she had finished. If she would have known, she would have slowed her pace, but her mind was ever eager for the new story. She grinned as Valentine reminded the Duke that Olivia paid him no heed. Her face was left unguarded, as open as the book before her. She chuckled softly, as the Duke practically ignored the man's words and continued to dwell upon his love for Olivia.

Each soft expression, touch of laughter, reached him and he echoed the sentiments, and as he held the book unconsciously rubbed lightly the irritating stitches of his cheek, but continued upon the exchange of wit and words, the cheatings of love spoken on behalf of others, he dared to break her reading with a whispered question, ?Do you like it??

So engrossed was she that she did not even notice that his hand went to rub against the stitches. ?Hmm?? she blinked a few times, the glaze that was forming over them disappeared as she lifted her head to smile at him, answering softly. ?I do, already a charming choice. This Orsino fellow seems a bit distracted by his own created reality,? she grinned.

?Not unlike others we know,? he grinned but then fell into silence to continue on with the reading.

She chuckled in agreement before resting her head to his shoulder again and continuing through the text. Through the second scene, her face remained mostly curious as to the plot that was unfolding. She was already creating common threads within the story, the tales of losing some by sea being the first. Her eyes widened slightly as Viola proclaimed that she was going to dress to be a eunuch in order to serve to duke. By the end of the second scene, she was completely relaxed and at ease against him. Her eyes were glazed over from the lack of blinking, though they were also half opened.

He took the half lidded look as weariness and does not press her, but asked gently, ?Would you care to continue the text tomorrow? Perhaps it is too late for reading.?

Storm made an attempt to keep her lids peeled back and she smiled sheepishly, ?Perhaps so, I would rather wait to enjoy it tomorrow than to continue to read and not remember it on the morrow,? she made no indication of movement though, the warmth from being curled up against him was more welcoming than moving away.

Ewan closed the text and set it aside. With great care, he drew her close with arms wrapped warmly about her. A kiss to the top of her head, he cocooned himself in the warm glow of having her near that also constricted and tightened the center of him.

She was not completely lax as he adjusted her, for her arms went around his middle before she relaxed against him fully again. A soft sigh parted her lips, as she heard the soothing sound of his heartbeat within his chest. ?I like the smell of you,? she said absently, though it was practically muffled against him.

A light hearted, breathy laugh, the outward expression of a strange thrill that ran along his spine, ?I enjoy the smell of you as well, but come now, I should see you to bed,? and he rose and gathered her up in his arms smoothly, cradling her against his chest.

She smiled slightly as he picked her up so easily, and did nothing to stop the movement. She mumbled, something along the lines of ?knight.. shining armor? before forcing herself to blink, and she cleared her throat, ?I'm sorry, I did not realize I was so tired.? She adjusted her head slightly so that she could look up to him.

?It's okay, beloved. It is rest you deserve and should take advantage of while it is here.? With all his skill at his command, he took the stairs in such fluid and soft motion, that it would be hard to tell he did not float up them. He walked down the hall to her room and turned inside. He did not presume she would sleep as she was, and she would probably rise up again to prepare for bed, but still he lay her gently down upon the bed.

?Hmm,? was her only response as he carried her up the stairs and to her room. She was doing her best, to keep her eyes open, even if it was barely. Once he set her down gently on her bed, she smiled up at him, raising a hand to graze his uninjured cheek. His other cheek. Right. Through the haze of sleepiness, she remembered what she promised to give him. She moved onto her elbows to the opposite side of the bed where her pack was, rummaging only for a few minutes. She the produced a small glass bottle, and offered it to him, propping herself up with her free elbow. ?Here, use this before you go to bed so you do not itch in your sleep.?

He smiled as she remembered even in her weariness, and he took the bottle, then pressed a soft kiss to her lips before whispering, ?Good night.?

The soft kiss was returned warmly, before she whispered against his lips, ?Good night, dear one.?

He stepped from her bedside and exited the room reaching to close the door behind him but paused for one last smile to her before he closed it.

She then forced herself to sit up, returning his last smile, waiting for the door to close before she stood. She then quickly changed into her clothes before moving back to the bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

Ewan tended Spirit with care after a thorough workout. The horse improved day by day in his gait and signals. Far from the war horse that was Zesperis, still, he held some promise. The good fortune of rain, admittedly one of Ewan's favorite types of weather, allowed him to work with the horse on foot placement and strengthening limbs. Together they worked out balances as the center of the combined instrument that was man and horse shifted with the slippery ground. In such times Ewan felt alive through ever fiber of his being as he controlled and maneuvered in a careful dance with the great animal beneath him.

There were other times he felt such a way, and that was on the hunt. Whether for dinner or for duty, when he stalked his prey, the feeling of being so wholly connected to the world around him thrummed along his muscles. Rain had pushed animals to their dens, and a particularly small herd of wild pigs that rarely ventured far from their rocky den were huddled in mass together against the weather. Ewan's approach was not taken well, and he made sure to keep out of distance from the younger, more aggressive members of the family. Instead, he took aim and lodged one dagger in the eye of an elder, smaller pig. The herd scattered at the attack, and Ewan kept an eye on them as he trussed up his prize. A smirk wondering what Storm would think of the meal for tonight -- wild pig.

As with many thoughts, it careened into another. Out here he could let his thoughts be free, even cruel. Perhaps that callow youth still hid inside him somewhere, trying to turn him back to those ways. It was the simple fact that they came from such different worlds. A feeling that she settled for him. That it was not necessarily him, but the idea of a relationship she was seeking. And what was he seeking came the following thought bumping its way forward without waiting for him to dwell upon the last. A mirror image of him? His face contorted with spite for that thought. No, but perhaps an image of something he could attain? Something to keep him centered. A strong individual, that had the goodness and patience to understand he had secrets he could never tell, and guide him back from the dark places he sent his mind and body.

It sounded so contrite even in his own mind, but he had seen how it worked with his father and mother, and even his father did not go as deep into the darkness as Ewan. His mother had been able to read his father's moods without question. Know when to press and when to keep quite. Did that just come with time, or had they always been that way?

The cabin came up and he rounded its corner, careful to shakes as much excess water from him and the carcass as he could before he stepped inside with a smile of triumph for his catch of the day.

?Hmm,? was her response, before she eased the curve in her back. At least she was given a little insight to his motivations, even if she could not see his worries. ?At least this is one less thing to add to your worries then.? She offered with a slight smile. She was more than happy to lift his burden, even if it was not much.

He laughed brightly. ?Yes, it is one less worry. I know that your father, even knowing so little of me, trusts his daughter to make choices and risks on her own, even if that risk is me.? He laughed softly a bit more, and closed his eyes enjoying the nearness of her and the conversation.

?Well, it probably helped that he already had a small idea of you.? She said, recalling her conversation weeks back. And the gentle warning. His words warmed her though, as she never thought of it in that light. Her father did have trust in her, and perhaps it was something she took for granted far too often.

His eyes open and he turned to look at her, the look easily read as he did? and how is that?

She raised a brow slightly. ?You are not the only one skilled at reading my thoughts. He asked upon it, and I did not lie to him.? A faint grin.

?Ahh...? A slow nod and smile. He tilted his head slightly to rest it against her leg. ?And what did he have to say??

Her free hand idly ran through his hair slowly, and only once. ?That he did not care if you were fire, man, or elven. So long as you made me happy and you treat me well. I told him that both were true.? She omitted the last part of the conversation, and offered a gentle smile. She also revealed that she had known in advance what her father would say to his letter. Her smile widened slightly.

He smiled as her fingers ran through his hair, then pouted briefly when she stopped. A short chuckle, ?So you knew he would give his permission. No wonder you were so much more at ease in our relationship. I was holding back not daring to risk, and you were opening possibilities. How unfair I've been to you.?

She raised a brow and chuckled at his pout. So she indulged him and continued, her fingertips soothingly going over his scalp. ?I do not hold anything of it, as I was unfair to make you believe that he would not approve. It seems as though I've been unfair to you also.?

He sighed in contentment as her fingers moved through his hair, something of a strange indulgence that he almost never had the chance to experience. His eyes closed. ?I do not see you being unfair. Or perhaps you are allowed to be slightly unfair having to put up with such a fellow as me.? He laughed at his teasing.

?I could not think of any other fellow I would rather put up with.? She retorted easily with a grin. Her hands continued to stroke gently, and her grin remained as she watched him.

He rested next to her, feeling the warmth through her clothes against the now unstitched cheek. The wound was pink with healing and would turn white and then disappear, but not for some time. Now, he just lived in the peacefulness of the moment, stealing the nearness that was allowed. Her hands continued in the soothing motions as her eyes traveled to the fire. She had happily remarked on his 'dangerous' look, though hiding her thoughts on it from him. She looked back to him. ?Did you get your hair coloring from your mother?? She asked idly, looking back down to the hair color in the firelight.

A mild shake of his head so he would not disturb the motion of her hands through his hair much, ?No, she had light golden hair.? He stopped. ?Though, I suppose in a way I did get it from her, since she says her father had hair like mine.?

?Ah.? She said, continuing the motion despite his little movement. ?It is very... unique. You would certainly make a statement with it at my home.? She said with a grin.

His mouth scrunched up slightly. ?Wonderful. As if I will not be unusual enough.? Then he grinned. ?I am used to my hair being something of a ...well, even in my homeland it makes me stand out. Which is not a good thing most times.? He then sighed, ?Thank you.? As he lifted his head, not wanting her to work all night no matter how much he enjoyed it. He released her hand and turned fully about, crossed his legs and folded his arms over her knees, resting his chin on top of his arms as he looked up to her, but said nothing; just admired her.

She chuckled, as she could only imagine how much he did not wish to stand out with a matter that was not really in his control. Her hands moved to her lap when he released one and stopped the movement with the other. His steady gaze at her brought color to her cheeks and a silly grin slowly appeared. ?What?? She asked softly, her grey eyes looking to his.

?Just looking at you. If that troubles you I will look away.? He turned his head to do just that.

She chuckled and grinned sheepishly. ?It is not troubling...? She lifted a hand to run through her own hair, sending a few curls in disarray. ?I am not used to people looking at me that is all.?

?Storm,? he looked back up at her, ?I would like to ask you something that might be...unusual, but I am, if nothing else, a hopelessly curious man.?

?I do not mind your questions. I would rather give your mind answers than for you to not know.? She offered a smile. She would have told him that he did not have to be cautious in asking her questions, but she had a feeling he would ask for permission anyway, so instead she would always give her permission.

?What have your previous relationships been like? I mean,? Ewan searched for the heart of the matter, and only found a part of it. ?Have they been pleasant for you and ended amiably...other than that one fellow.? He did not speak the name; he felt no need to do so since she knew whom he meant.

Her lips twitched into a wry grin. ?Oh, that relationship ended much more pleasantly than the other, as I've only had two. Before you.? she added. ?The other was a fire, and it was pleasant enough for a while. Something changed in him though.? she said softly, not out of regret, as she was well over and beyond the past time. She could not help but feel for the humanity that had left the man. ?Xavier was his name. His heart turned black and cold. I could not help him, and he became in need of power, much like his brother.? She offered the information for him to make the connection between him and Korigan. ?Anyway, it was I, who gave him to the Chaotics, much like I did Korigan, only Xavier did not escape,? a rueful smile. ?I have not had the best of luck.?

He lets out a slow breath. ?I am terribly sorry you've had such disappointments.? He reached for her hands and placed them palm to palm with each other, and his hands on the outsides of each of hers. ?I will try to improve upon those.? He opened her hands like a book and placed kisses upon each palm and then on each wrist before closing her hands again, his remained on the outside of hers, perhaps unwittingly symbolizing how he wants to care and protect her.

A charming smile, as she let him take her hands. ?I am hoping that the third time is the charm.? She repeated, hearing those words from Janet once. She watched him press a kiss to each palm and wrist, feeling the tingle go up her arms to her middle. ?And I highly doubt you will mark me as the others, though I am running out of room for you to do so anyway.? She said absently. Perhaps if she was not so open with him, she would learn that some things did not need to be said then and there.

His brows pull together. ?Running out of room? Mark you?? He focused on her face, trying to find more clues there to what she meant.

?Mark me.? She repeated, her own brows drawing together as she was not making herself clear. ?Well, I will show you then.? She regretfully drew her hands back from him. She pulled the sleeve back that was covering her right forearm, to reveal a burn that was fading. ?Xavier did this to me..,? she paused, finding a time, ?August perhaps? Just before I, well, you know.? She then turned around in the couch to give him her back. With ease, her hands went to her back, pulling down on her shirt to reveal the conjunction between her neck and shoulders. Her other hand felt just above her spine, until she felt the scar that appeared exactly on top of the beginnings of her spine. ?And here, from the other.? She would give time for him to see, before she let go of her shirt, but only to raise it from the bottom slightly. And there it showed the continuous mark as it continued all along her spine.

?Swords and arrows...they did that to you?? his countenance darkened as he lifted a hand as if to touch the lower part of her spine where the scar was, but then drew back at the unseemliness of such intimacy without permission.

?You can touch, I do not mind.? She said as she felt him hesitate and draw away. It was not as if she was exposing much anyway, only a few inches of her lowered back. She then nodded. ?Yes, one was intentional and the other was my own fault. The dagger,? an idle indication to her back, ?was not meant for me, but I got in the way. I was told that it he found a healer, but even they could not keep it from scarring over.? A faint shrug, all said nonchalantly. ?Which I suppose was best, because I might have gone mad with stitches. The last ones along my shoulder itched something wicked.? Or it was more than likely she would have not survived, but she did not need to mention that.

He kept his silence as well, his thoughts darkening, as they did when given leave to tumble out of their designated places in his mind for him to analyze and contemplate possibilities, grim and otherwise. The news of the day, the news that was waiting for him, and the continued uncertainty that he was doing the right thing all rose and fell in a macabre dance in his mind.

Her thoughts were not so dark, but they were taking hold of possibilities. With each step closer she made to him, the more narrow the road. Not to mention everything else that was not concerning him. Thoughts of the other news on her letter brought her brows together in thought.

His breathing began to slow until it was so far apart, not unlike drifting into meditation; his eyes were open and almost heightened, he noted her brow furrowing, but he would not question; she was thinking of matters not to be shared with him, as he was with her, and that led to the many things they did not share with each other. From there his mind tumbled down that slippery slope of how much they risked for this relationship, and how balanced it was now on the edge.

Indeed they did not share many things to each other, and she felt a rising ache to her heart. The risk was so much more than words, than information. It was the risk of truly baring a soul to another, along with everything that came with it. ?Do you think that we can really make this work, Ewan?? she said, her voice nothing more than whisper as she opened her eyes, but did not glance to him.

Snapped back to the world around him, his eyes narrowed as he looked to her, wondering if she had somehow been eavesdropping on his thoughts. He contemplated reassuring her, but he had never lied to her when she asked a direct question, and he would not start now. ?I do not know.?

She nodded slightly, and shifted so that she could stand up. Though the warmth from her position was missed, she moved so that she could set another log into the flames. ?Perhaps that is subconsciously why I want to try, and see.? It was an unknowing offering into the many thoughts that grazed her mind. She placed her hands behind her back and stepped over him, just so that she could move to a window to watch the rain fall. ?Would you truly treasure something if it required no work?? It was not a question aimed for him, but simply said.

He pushed himself up and sat back on his heels and watched her, her question did not seem to require a response, and so he gave none, but something she had said dropped a chill down his spine; like ice running down his back. ?Am I an experiment then?? it was a quick motion, smooth and dark, to his feet, his expression unreadable.

?Absolutely not. I would never toy with your emotions; nor my own,? she added, her gaze going from the window to him as he rose. ?I would never be so cruel.? Although her face was still calm she was surprised to hear such a thing from him. Did he really think that she was like that? What a horrible thing.

He rubbed his bottom lip, then clasped hands behind his back and bowed his head, willing to be in the wrong ?My apologies, Storm. I...often read too much into things.? And he was too often right when he did, but perhaps not now. The reasons behind wanting to be with someone was never as clear as the reasons for protecting, or killing, another. Feelings brought small deaths and small lives in an unpredictable cycle. But her words had made him wonder if it was not him she wanted, but just someone, and he was conveniently different.

She relaxed slightly, and shook her head. ?There is no need for your apology, I can understand your unease.? another glance out to the window, her arms moving from her back to fold across her middle. How quick was their shift from light to dark. A cruelty in itself.

He walked for the door, ignored his cloak, but buckled his belt with dirk and dagger around his hips. ?Perhaps we have learned we cannot stay in each others company alone for long.? He opened the door and looked to her. ?We are learning much this week, are we not? I will be back in a moment.?

She pressed her lips together, and said nothing, only nodded. She felt as if she had hurt him, and in the process, hurt herself. Bugger all things. Once he shut the door behind him, she sighed almost angrily, and rested her forehead against the cool glass. She did not want him to think that his words were true, that they could only keep company for so long before having these discussions. That was another obstacle in the way if his words were true. Her hands fisted behind her, knuckles bearing white as she just felt for the time being.

He walked out into the darkness and the rain and turned into the forest; he needed to clear his head, to become what he was trained to be for a moment and center himself before he spoke too honestly or not honestly enough and cut up something so precious and fragile in his attempt to be open. The trees dripped down and soaked him, his weapons drawn, he became a shadow among all the others in the darkness of the woods, and danced and defended his way against imagined foes.

She did not attempt to feel his direction, to let the difference in rain be her guide. Instead, she gave herself a few minutes to clear her mind, much like a clearing of the clouds that had become her mood. She needed something to do, she just could not sit and wait for him. Once she felt steady again, she moved towards the kitchen, filling a pot and readying the stove to heat the water. Even if she did not need to, the movement gave her something to ease her mind.

The rain felt good, he felt alive, in control, and could think on what he wanted, what he could offer, and what had to be done. He had to try to explain who he was, when even he was not always certain, and maybe then, maybe then, he realized, they will know what they have. The animals tucked in their burrows and dens from weather did not stir in his passing, and he climbed a small cavern hill to yell his frustrations into the sky and weather, released the emotions that he often stamped down, not of just his relationship with Storm, but all his obligations, his failures, and his regrets. He let these feelings burst from him from time to time, and typically, in private. When he felt spent from the yells, he walked back towards the cabin.

After uncovering what tea she could find, she waited with patience until the water was ready. She then brought out two cups, one for him should he want something when he returned. She might have heard his yell, but she had already shut herself away out of respect, that and she just did not wish to know. She filled her cup and moved to the table and sat unceremoniously. She looked a bit tired as she stared down into her cup. She rubbed her face and waited for her tea to cool, silence only being broken by the sounds of rain.

The logs were already burning briskly in the fire due to Storm's usual flare. Ewan had gotten a tear in his shirt earlier in the day, so he sat in a chair and began to mend the garment quietly, enjoying the comforts of a pleasantly filled stomach, the warmth of a fire, and the easy company.

?Do you know what you are doing?? she asked casually with a sidelong glance to him. She was curled snugly into the corner of the couch again, close to the fire. She had pulled down on her sleeves to cover her hands, her legs propped under her.

He glanced up to her. A mildly confident smile, ?I do.? He continued the stitches to the rended material. ?I often have to mend my clothes, armor,? dagger used to cut the thread, ?whatever needs mending.? He held up the shirt for inspection.

?What did you do to it anyway?? She raised a brow as she also studied his handiwork. Though her view was not as close as it, the firelight gave her enough to see, or rather barely see, his work.

He folded the shirt and set it on the arm of the chair. ?Spirit disagreed with one of my ideas and he made his opinion fully known. Well, it wasn't completely his doing as the nail in the fence was not flush to the wood. I backed up against it and when I moved quickly, it tore the shirt.?

She folded her hands in her lap, and wrinkled her nose. ?Well, better the shirt than you I suppose.? Her lips curled, ?Your horses have the most intriguing personalities.?

?Most horses do, if allowed to keep some of themselves.? He sat back, ?Sometimes owners beat them down into just plain meanness or apathy.? His expression soured and mouth turned down in thought, but the unreadable expression returned smoothly. ?I suppose it is not too different from dogs, cats, and other domestics.?

She was about to voice what else it was like, she decided against it, pushing darker thoughts aside. Their last night spent away should not be on such thoughts. ?I never had a pet, though I remember practically begging for one when I was young,? she grinned at the memory of her weeping over a pair of canaries. ?And I am not home enough now, well? nor do I have a home to put one in.?

A few nods as he listened, then agreed, ?It is difficult to care for one alone if you're always moving about or away.? Green eyes turned to the fire, he slowly and lightly rubbed at his bottom lip.

She studied him for a moment; the rubbing at his lower lip was either a developing habit or one he did not express when in the inn. ?I have thought about rebuilding my home, as the land is still mine,? a finger started to tap idly in her lap. ?I am torn though. On one hand, it is not really my home, nor do I refer to it as such. Still, I am not keen on moving the way I am.?

He looked back to her, his hand dropping to his lap, ?There is no reason it cannot be a residence, even if it is not a home. Rebuilding, of course, is entirely up to you, but I do not see why you should not. Then again, you have several places you can reside, so you are not obligated to. Perhaps just keep the land until you find a new use for it.?

A hand reached up to scratch gently on the back of her head, sending a few curls out of place as she did so. ?I suppose I could do that. It is not a pressing matter, so I will think on it more.? The hand returned to her lap, a finger still tapping away silently. ?I think that Erin will not stay in the cabin longer, so I will be on the move again.? A ghost smile played on her lips.

?Oh?? he simply queried for more details.

] ?It is an assumption of course, as she has not said anything. But,? she moved her legs from under her to rest at the floor. Well, they almost touched the floor, ?she has that manor empty, save a few people keeping care of it. Once she has moved over Bastien, or more likely moved on to another, I think she will move back.?

He could not hold back the smirk, but he did managed to refrain from commenting and only offered, ?I see. Of course, likely she would let you remain there if you wished. But, as I said before, you have other choices of places to stay while in town.?

?The inn?? she said with her own smirk. She also, refrained from adding her own comments. She would not talk poorly of her friend, and she knew that he respected that friendship.

?There are other places. Several inns other than the Red Dragon, most with a more...,? he corrected the course of his words, ?with a different atmosphere. A few guild halls. With your talents in music, you could probably stay at the Minstrel Guild Hall. A friend of mine still stays there.? Even if Kiema had been nearly killed there one night, but they were still fairly certain it had something specifically due to her. And the security had changed since then.

Her lips curled almost wickedly as he changed his words. She tucked her tongue in her cheek, before shrugging. She then stretched each leg to be parallel with the ground for a moment or two, relieving the tension as each knee popped. ?It is not a problem yet, so we will see what happens,? a cheeky grin.

A soft smile accompanied the nod, and he rested his head back. His hands dangled loosely over the ends of the chair arms and his legs arranged so one was stretched out and the other bent with the booted foot flat on the rug-covered floor.

Her gaze flickered to the fire, studying the play of colors, ?Are you ready to return tomorrow?? She kept her gaze to the fire for a few more moments before looking back to him.

?I am prepared for the return,? he offered in answer. One hand moved to rub lightly at the pink scar then dropped back to its resting place.

Curious to his choice of words, she raised a brow, but asked nothing more. With a small sigh, the tapping finger ceased as she looked back to the flames. The silence was comfortable enough, but she managed to resist bringing her brows together.

?When is the dance you were practicing for?? The thought had come to him, and he felt compelled to ask it. ?I hope our impromptu departure did not disturb those plans.?

She shook her head softly, ?No, it is three weeks from yesterday. Though I will have to leave a bit early in order to help prepare for things. Though I must admit, I am not looking very forward to it,? she looked back to him..

A furrowed brow preempted the question, ?Why not??

?Because I have no choice but to go.? A wry smile, ?Not to mention that the one I wish to dance will not be there. Not that you cannot be,? she quickly added, ?as you are more than welcome to join me, but I will not get the chance to dance much, since I will be playing most of the time.? She shrugged slightly.

Ewan smiled at the somewhat unusually twisted and backwards invitation. ?I think it would be best if I did not attend. I hope, against your expectations, that you have a wonderful time. Dance when you wish and see many of your friends there.?

?Is that your permission to dance with whomever I wish?? A gentle teasing smile as she would have reached a leg out to poke him, but her legs did not quite make the distance.

His smile twisted with wry humor, ?You do not need my permission. I hope you do dance with whomever you wish, though.?

?See, in my realm, courted women usually do not dance with many others, save the one who is courting them,? a hand lifted to tap idly on her bottom lip, but only for a few moments.

?Oh, true, in my homeland as well if the courter is at the dance. If he is not, however, there is nothing to say the lady, or gentleman, cannot enjoy a dance attended to their fullest. This is what I hope for you.?

?Ah. Well, as far as I'm aware, I will be playing majority of the time,? another small shrug. ?I am sure when the date comes closer, I will be more hopeful for the night. But for now, I will continue to mope and pout about it.? Her eyes were bright with humor, but to prove her point, she pouted.

A soft chuckle, the corners of his mouth twitched slightly and he shook his head, ?Whatever pleases you.?

She grinded her teeth once his back was to her. Perhaps it was best that instead of indulging their last night together, that they start back as what they were before. It was not that she needed his constant attention; it was more of the feeling that he had closed something to her, something she had barely gotten a glimpse of before it was gone again.

He turned in to his room and closed the door and sighed at what he had so backwardly proven to himself. He moved to his packs and started to arrange items back inside them for the return, leaving out only what would be necessary in the coming day as he muttered to himself. She had not said what she wanted or needed, and that was a telling sign of how difficult their relationship would be.

She listened to the quiet noise that he made as he went up the stairs. She then sighed and rubbed her face gently. She then focused the attention to rubbing the bridge of her nose, her thoughts off and in circles. It was a cycle, what to say, what not to. Things were so new, and everything was still new. She could not expect to act to his expectations, or her own. She then picked up her mug to wash it, her wanting for it past.

He sat on the edge of the bed and thought with a smile over the week. It had ups and downs in equal measure, and still, at the end, he felt they did not know how to just be in each other's company; to speak without thought of repercussions. ?But,? he whispered, ?that will take more time. I just wish,? he felt himself stop in the middle of the conversation with himself, ?ah, swords and arrows, does not matter.? He flopped backwards on his bed and looked up at the ceiling.

Once Storm cleaned her glass, she moved back to the fire. Rather than putting it out, she brought her hands to the top of hearth, curving it out and down to the bottom, placing a small shield there so the flames could not escape. She then started up the stairs, silent even in her breathing, before stopping in front of his door. She raised her hand, and hesitated, before knocking upon it softly.

Ewan sat bolt upright and looked at the door as though it had grown a voice and barked at him. Feeling stupid, he stood and moved to open the door fully offering a congenial smile.

She returned the smile, before looking down to her feet. ?Ewan I am sorry,? she started, putting it out there before she lost her nerve. Funny, as she turned the words over in her mind, the faint flutter in her middle was not there. ?I do not wish to keep things from you. I fear often that I am going to say something foolish, and you will realize that I am not worth your trouble.? Grey eyes glanced up to him, even if her head did not completely follow.

?Swords and arrows, Storm,? he sighed and his hands fell to his sides. ?For one, stop saying you're sorry. We're both learning our way through this. For two, say whatever you want, except I am sorry when it is not warranted. Have I not said enough stupid things already? I think it is time you said some and evened this out a bit,? he smirked then rested his hands on her shoulders. ?I cannot read your mind, and until you say what you would like me to do, I'm just...guessing and hoping I do not completely ruin this.? He ducked his head down, curving his shoulders, so he could try to look her straight in the face. ?I will try to do the same in speaking my mind when you ask me what I want.?

She couldn't help the soft smile at the first part of his words. She lifted her head slightly as his hands went to her shoulders, and again as he ducked the extra foot to meet her eye to eye. She took his words, tucking them away to remind herself again and again. ?I'm afraid of going back, and finding that I've been experiencing those 'dreams' as you call it.? She closed her eyes then, leaning forward slightly to rest her forehead to his. Her voice was but a whisper, ?I am afraid that I do not know what to do. I have this gift in my hands, this beautiful thing, and I'm clumsy enough to break it.?

?Shhhh..,? he crooned and pulled her into his arms, to hold her close in comfort. ?This week was no dream, and even though it does not go on forever, it was real and we have it to hold on to. I will not deny things will change when we return. What you see when I am alone with you is not what I show to the world, but do not think it has vanished entirely,? he kissed the top of her head to assure her.

She trembled slightly against him as her hands wrapped around him, burying her face in his chest. His words were more than soothing, as she willed herself to still. It was bittersweet, the feeling of vulnerability. She gave herself a few moments to just be, relaxing as he kissed the top of her head. ?It is not your affections that I fear changing, it is more than that.? But she took his words as answers for her other concerns, keeping her face against his chest.

?Tell me, then.? One hand rose to caress her hair, the other arm still wrapped surely around her. ?Or if you cannot now, or do not know the words, tell me when you can.?

She swallowed the lump in her throat down as she steadied her breath. No need to get all worked up, was there? Her mind and body were in a disagreement, as she could not still herself. So, she tightened her grip on him barely, shaking her head against him. ?What am I to say?? she whispered. ?That I wish I could be more for you? I wish that I could walk without my gift, I wish that I could ease away your thoughts when you need me to. There are many times when I think you need someone other than me, but..,? she paused, listening to his heartbeat, ?the last thing I want is someone else next to you other than me.?

Her tightened grip, though slight as it was, raised his worry. ?Concerns I share as well, if not exactly the same. Use your skills and talents, Storm, to have you walk or do whatever you need. That is not what worries me. It is the thought that being with me might take that from you. That you'll have to make a choice as you think of now, and that you might make the wrong one, or what I fear is the wrong one. I am not worth losing part of yourself, Storm. Always remember that. It isn't just me. No one is worth losing part of yourself. A relationship should be adding something, not subtracting. That is my fear. That I will lessen you, and I do not want that,? he breathed in the scent of her and sighed. ?But do not let us worry on this in one great horrifying bundle of fears. We will face it as best we can as long as we just keep talking. For now, I should see you to bed.? She had spoken some of her worries, and that was a step, and one step at a time was sufficient.

She listened to his words, the glance inside his worries. She wanted to tell him that he did not know, neither of them did, of what her gift would be like in his homeworld. It was her own thoughts, the meaning of that kind of commitment. And of course, she did not look at it by his angle, that she was, in the end, losing something. It would be another conversation, another night. Her grip loosened considerably as she realized it was tighter than it needed to be, before nodding. ?Will you carry me again?? she asked softly. Her cheeks flushed slightly as the request left her lips, as her room was only but a few footsteps. It was probably why she kept her face in his chest rather than looking to him.

?Of course,? he smiled, then with such controlled grace, he lifted her, one arm behind her back, the other under her legs, and he carried her to her room and the bed that waited for her there.

The flush was still apparent on her face as he lifted her. She kept an ear on his chest, his heartbeat steadied her own and her body finally stilled.

He paused a moment to stand beside her bed, then slowly lowered her to its comfort. ?Sleep well,? an honest wish for her.

?I will,? she whispered, tugging on his tunic gently just so that she could press one of those breath taking kisses to his lips. It was not one of heat or passion, but it was sweet and tender. ?Goodnight,? she whispered against him.

A kiss shared and perfected with the purity of its intent, he smiled as he stepped away and closed the door behind him to find his own bed.