He unfolded his arms, dangling them carefully over the edge of the porch, before pulling them back. He methodically, deliberately massaged at his temples with the hand not holding the wine glass. "...sorry. I know you went to a lot of effort to prepare a nice, romantic evening, and I just loused it up again." He was looking to the front door, then the steps of the porch, frozen like a deer in headlights.

He didn't answer her question, and it stung. Instead, she let it go and was blunt with her question, "Is there somethin' wrong? Ya've been like this fer weeks. I kin't help ya if I dunno wha's wrong."

The gap between them felt wider than the space between where he stood and where she sat. He remained rooted to the spot, uselessly holding the mostly full glass of wine. "...I don't know what to say or how to say it." He gave a wide, exaggerated shrug of his shoulders before they slumped.

She waited, strumming her fingers lightly on the stem of her glass. "It's jist me, Locke. Ya kin tell me."

"Remember when you told me that you felt like you hadn't been fair to me?"

She took a deep breath to steady herself with whatever he was about to say, "Yes."

He drank a large gulp of wine, puckering his face as he did so. What he had to say left a sour taste in his mouth that couldn't be washed away. "It goes both ways. Worse even. You were just talking about the mods. It is far worse for me. I feel as though I have deceived you, committed a sin of omission. I lied by not saying anything, by leaving it completely off the table. Because let's be bloody honest, if you had known about this..." One of the poorly maintained spikes drooped into his eyes as he shook his head. "There is no bloody way you would have given me even an iota of your attention. I-I've made things far worse than they should have been." He turned around and butted his head lightly against one of the porch supports, leaving it to rest there.

"Locke," she instantly scolded him lightly as he hit one of the wooden beams lightly with his head. Sighing, she left her wine and stood, keeping the blanket close around her as she hesitantly walked over to him, "If.. if it's before us being together, it?. doesn't matter. You don't have to tell me. What you say isn't going to change how I feel for you."

"But it does!" His fist followed where his head had just been. "It does. I can't-" He suddenly stopped, turning pleading blue eyes on her. "I can't live with the guilt anymore, but I don't think I can make amends without being separated from you. How am I supposed to handle that?"

Her eyes narrowed as he hit the pillar. Her concern didn't fade, but it slowly did on her face to something more neutral. "Listen to me, " she reached out for one of his hands, "if the guilt is so heavy, then share your burden with me. Whatever it is, we are better working through it together than apart." Her eyes flickered to the pillar before back to him, "Just don't take it out on our new home, yeah?"

The tenseness dissipated as she took hold of one of his hands, and he slouched and sagged. It was difficult to look her in the eyes, but between the glances to her face and the ground, signs of the toll the mental fatigue had taken on him were plenty. The nervous, coiled up energy was gone, replaced by listlessness and shame. He looked away, whispering even though there was nobody nearby who could hear them. "Last May, I robbed a bank." He let go of her hand after that, letting it rest by his side as his irises drifted towards his shoes.

Katarina was so tense about the way he looked to her in just that moment that it took several seconds for her to comprehend what he said, and then several more to understand its full meaning. She searched through her emotions for surprise, anger, disbelief or something, but still felt relatively calm. Maybe it hadn't quite hit her yet, "You robbed a bank." She repeated the sentence back to him with little infliction.

"Yes." He rolled his shoulders and sighed. "And I suppose it does not matter the reasons I had for doing so."

"You owed someone?" It was the only thing she could guess. It wasn't like Locke had been living life like he'd previously robbed a bank.

"A large sum. It was a rash way to make up for another rash act, and the price I will pay for it is far worse than the one I would have paid back then."

She felt like rubbing her temples the way Locke usually did. Instead she continued to just stand there and try to process everything that he was saying. "What do you mean, the price you will pay now?" As she said the sentence out loud, her eyes widened and she took a few steps back so that she could sit down in her chair, "You're going to turn yourself in." It wasn't a question; it was a statement.

"Right-o. I will turn myself in, and give back the remaining dosh I have, and..." He sighed deeply, before finishing the wine in one gulp. Drops of red fell onto the collar of his dress shirt. "They'll put me in prison. Even here, they won't...they won't just slap me on the wrist, tell me I made a big mistake, and Bob's your uncle. It's all-it's all buggered now, and it's my own damn fault." He cocked a fist back, ready to strike the pillar a third time, but pulled his hand back to his side, tightly balled up.

The startling image finally dawned the full potential of the situation, and she took her breath away. Panic gripped tightly to her fears and didn't let go. The silence began to feel heavy, and so she started with the only question she was sure would make its way past her mouth without her sanity breaking, "How much do you have left?"

He gulped. For the last year and a half since the robbery, the numbers had been distant and far away from him. Now, he was forced to confront them, and the enormity of what he had done. "After having the dosh laundered, after the usual purchases one makes when they win the bloody lottery-" He laughed bitterly, before continuing. "Usual life expenses, investment gains and losses, I have...600,000 silvers or so, floating somewhere in the aether." He waved a hand in the air in a spiraling pattern.

"None of us deserve anything. Isn't that what love is? Grace, too?" She felt the tears that didn't freeze on his face settle on her sleeves, and she gently removed the ones that froze before she let her hands fall down. It felt like she was like trying to hold water in her hands; that so easily he would slip away through her fingers. An idea, a rash and quick one, cleared her eyes. The spoon ring on her thumb was given a short tug to finally remove it from her finger. She held it up to him then, at their eye level. She didn't say anything, not yet.

He looked curiously at the ring, before reaching up cautiously to touch it. His eyes drifted between the jewelry and her face, clearly puzzled.

She didn't move it away from his touch, but she didn't release her hold on the ring either. Her hands were shaking just slightly, "I don't.. I don't know how else to show you how I feel.. and what you mean to me.. I.. " Catching herself rambling, she immediately stopped and sucked in a deep breath, staring at him square in the eye, "Marry me."

His eyes flashed wide open for a moment, his breath caught in his throat, and his heart seemed to skip a beat before it came roaring back to life. He took his fingers off the ring, and rested his hands on either side of her face, before suddenly reaching into his pocket. He grabbed the long abandoned tie and held it against her forehead with both hands, wrapping it halfway around her with the ends falling to the side. He then leaned forward and pressed his temple carefully to the fabric. "Yes."

She kept frozen still after the words left her mouth, surprised by her own gumption, and then terrified with her own vulnerability. Her thrumming heart eased slightly when his hands touched her face, but when he reached for his pocket, she was once more unsure. Her breath of relief was so loud when his tie became a barrier that she barely heard his answer. She started sniffling as a new form of tears appeared, and she grabbed one of his hands to place the ring in its palm, "I don't care how.. and I don't care when. Amin mela lle."

His fingers curled around the ring tightly, as the metal dug into his palm. "Amin mela lle. It will happen. No matter what happens to me, it will happen." He pressed the hand with the ring against his heart. "I swear it, Katarina. Mela en' coiamin*."

She just wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, and neither emotion was dominate over the other. So she just threw her arms around him and buried her face into his shoulder so that she could have the privacy of doing both while trying to get some words out, "It'll work.. out.. I promise."

He pulled her tightly against him, as the tie fell between them. "I believe you. And I will try not to doubt you again. We-" His eyes blinked shut momentarily, as he recalled the words, then opened slowly as he shifted his sentence. "There is no me without you anymore, savvy? It-it goes both ways, yeah?"

Her laughter sounded strained, despite its genuine nature. At last, she understood his burden, and while it didn't make the news any lighter, it made it more bearable. She would help him, and at the very least, they would work through it together. The tears faded away as she began to calm down, only to be replaced with a series of giggles, "You... yer marryin' me." Joy was evident in the astounded tone.

The sheer wonder and amazement he felt filled him with emotion that had him speaking faster and less clearly than usual, like his mind was moving faster than his mouth could. "I know-I knew, I believe, that this day was coming. Sooner, rather than later. But I-I never bloody saw it coming so soon, and...and from you. But you have always been in the driver seat, and it is appropriate that you did so. I am-I am sorry that it was not more romantic."

She sniffled and leaned back so that she could look at him, "Not romantic?" She laughed lightly, and pulled up on her sleeves again to gently wipe her face from the tears, "There's lights.. an'.. wine." She vaguely motioned up the porch, "I.. wasn' 'xactly plannin' 'n askin' bu'... yer nah upset, ar' ya? Tha' ya didn' do it? I mean... I could take it back." She just had to laugh at them, on the ground of their walkway in front of their house between laughter and tears, "Aren' I 'posed ta be th' one wit' the ring anyway?"

"How can I be upset? What you've done for me, what you do for me...Cormamin lindua*. It sings at the sight, at the mere thought of you and I. I can get you a proper ring later. Ask Johnny, if you would like. Or...you can wear one of the snowflake rings I have. And I can wear the other. Though in my case, it will have to be on a chain around my neck." He finally uncurled his fingers around the ring he had been carrying, to take a closer look at it once more.

The snowflake rings she had been desiring before no longer had the same effect, but she didn't want to possibly hurt his feelings over it, so she tried to delicately deny them. "I thin'... we should have somethin' tha's meanin'ful ta jist us, yeah? An' ya deserve ta wear one too." She relaxed back into a more normal sitting position and watched him study the ring, "Nothn' speaks love lik' bent silverware." It was a gentle tease, hoping to get a smile out of it, "Nah sure if it'd fit ya er nah."

Seeing as I wear gloves all the time, it is difficult to wear such things on my ivories." He wiggled his fingers, before switching the ring over into his right hand and removing the glove on his left. He slid the ring carefully onto his left thumb, before holding his hand up to the sky, turning it this way and that. "I think you have the right idea, as lovely as this is. Still, may I hold onto it for now?"

"O' course. I's yers ta do as ya see fit." Wiping her face once more for good measure, before finally standing and offering a hand, "I.. I thin' tha' this nigh' kin still be.. salvaged an'.. romantic, yeah?"

With her assistance, he rose to his feet, brushing off his slacks. At her question, he rested to fingers on his chin and tilted his head. "I...do believe you are correct, salkamin. Let us salvage this evening, yeah?" Even though it was a short trip from the front lawn to the porch, he held an arm out for her to take.

She glanced down at his arm for a moment, and then back at him. Within all the imperfections of the night, and the panic that took hold against the deepest part of her mind, still there was immeasurable amount of joy. "Yeah." She smiled warmly before putting her hand through his arm.



*love of my life
my heart sings