Endless Time

There was no true understanding as to why his wandering feet took him to the ever growing city of Arlathan. Across the burned forests and fields, deerskin boots stained black to the ankles with soot. This was not somewhere that he would often find himself, tucked into the pulsing crowd of the market, a bundle of furs under his arm to trade for supplies that he would need for the coming winter. His clothing marked him as someone of the wilds, the hand stitched leathers of his trousers matching his boots, his chest bare in the heat of the summer. 

As he passed the food vendors that sold street food, there was a chuckle in the back of his mind as they approached one that sold all manners of tea. [color=#17b529]"Sylaise made something similar in our youth. It is good to know the practice still lives." [/color]

What practice?

[color=#17b529]"There is a soft, sweet pearl in the tea. A bit chewy. But delicious."[/color]

Would you like some?

[color=#17b529]"I would enjoy that. Deeply. Thank you."[/color]

There was a small hum of approval, bartering with the stall keeper for a rabbit pelt for his drink, some pull making him look up and to his left, the striking chestnut hair catching his attention and leaving him staring for a moment. As she moved off, it was instinctual to follow, both elf and god intent on her, trying to figure out some grand puzzle as they trailed onlys two steps behind. The way she skipped, pulling on her pipe with a smile on her face.... it was entrancing. There was no part of him that realized just how close he was, just that he had to know her.

The markets were always bustling at this time. Megara was able to weave her way through, her steps lightly skipping causing her to bob and turn to avoid other patrons. Smoke plumed behind, dancing alongside the elf’s dark waves. Usually she’d have it braided, kept it in check and away from any bloody injury but today errands had to be run, supplies restocked. The clinic she supported served those who couldn’t always pay, who’s name, if given, could have guards at her door. Old Coterie habits die hard, Meg had always moved in strange, not often legal circles.

Of course Sylaise had a request.

[color=#aaaaaa]Boba? [/color]

[color=#008e02]“Yes, after we find some seedlings. Our reward.” [/color]

The thrum of approval the elf felt from the spirit caused her to chuckle, a grin forming around the nib of her pipe. The ache between her ribs had felt eased these few years since finding the soul. Scars had healed over, but the residual pain still made some days difficult for the elf, her smile struggling to feign contentment. She had an objective though, well, two now. Seeds and boba. Her pace quickened, skips became more exaggerated until everything stopped abruptly.

She’d have missed it, if not for the wind. Even though there was no whiff of a breeze to be felt. A faint wave of sense lapped against her, called to.. No… not to her. To  Sylaise. Her back grew straight, the bounce all but replaced for rigid poise. Pausing for a few beats, Meg would soon push on with muted skips.

[color=#008e02]“Did you..?”[/color]

[color=#aaaaaa]Feel that? Yes. It was too faint to make out though. [/color]

With no warning, Elm didn't stop himself in time before he collided with the woman's back, his drink leaving his hand but not before coating himself with the sticky drink. There was a startled sounds as he knocked them both over, limbs tangling with hers on the way down as he tried to catch them both, a head going to her head to protect her from cracking it on the stone walkway. I- I'm am very sorry. Are you alright? his words had started in his ancient tongue before realizing that no, there was likely no reason for her to speak such a language.  His words in Dalish felt foreign and uncomfortable in his mouth, struggling over pronunciations and syntax, but trying nonetheless. Have we... met in the past? You feel like home.

She’d barely let Syl’s thought drift off before gravity upended. A force struck her from behind, sending her lithe frame hurtling forwards. Of course it wasn’t a simple case of being sent downwards, there was a twist… or few. Bracing for impact, Meg’s eyes pinched closed, but was spared at the last moment. One eye opened at words, slow to be understood at first but the concern of the strangers tone made it clear.

[color=#888888]He’s apologi-[/color]

[color=#008e02]“I get that. Thanks.”[/color]

Dalish replaced Ancient. The shadowed bastardised tone sounded wrong, and she found herself relieved he had not replaced it with Common. Her face flushed brightly, grin falling lopsided as a nervous chuckle giggled into life. [color=#008e02]“Yes. I mean no. I mean…”[/color] she laughed, awkwardly trying not to stare or let her green hues linger over his exposed torso. [color=#008e02]“...Strange thing to call a stranger. Ha.” [/color]

There was a tenderness to the way one hand cupped the back of her head, giving her something to rest it on other than the hard ground; some measure of protection that was not out of his ordinary, though she had no way to know that. He stumbled a bit more over his words, trying to find the ones that he wanted to convey. A flush formed over his cheeks, somewhat embarrassed at the turn of events. I do not mean to offend....  but it was her giggle that brought his own laughter, the smile brightening up his face, small crows feet forming at the creases of his eyes. I do not know the word I wish for. I am very....poor in your language. but still he tried. Still he made the effort for the woman that felt like home.

Her attention was consumed by what was in front of her, both eyes now fully open. Their colour matched, but her laugh cut through any tension. Hearing his, somehow, felt like a secret, and her grin broadened.[color=#008e02] “...My Ancient… isn’t much,”[/color] again colour bloomed across her cheeks. A shoulder jerked, eyes shyly glancing away briefly. [color=#008e02]“No offence taken.” [/color]

It was only in that brief movement that her nerves began informing her of her almost hovering. [color=#008e02]“Um…”[/color] thoughts scrambled to form a brokenly asked question. [color=#008e02]“We.. get up now?”[/color] Not that she was uncomfortable, but now she was all too aware that they would become an obstacle in people's paths.

Her attempts at his native tongue were endearing to put it mildly, his smile turning to a grin as he listened to it. It was a truly decent attempt, whoever had taught her had been patient if nothing else. Yes. We can get up now. With soft laughter coloring his features, he got up and off of this poor woman, offering her his hand to help her up as he'd been the reason that they'd met the ground in the first place. I am Elm. I would apologize again, but I can not apologize for crossing your path. That is far too much a lucky things, I think.

[color=#888888]Not bad. We need to work on your tenses a bit. 
[/color]
[color=#008e02]Yeah, yeah. Not now. [/color]

She flashed him a grin as he agreed, righting himself first before offering her hand. Meg gladly took it, finding her feet once again, swaying back and forth.[color=#008e02] "Megara."[/color] Giving his hand a brief squeeze for some reason, she released it to join the other now finding the small of her back. Her brow wrinkled with his phrasing, she wasn't sure how lucky colliding in the street was lucky. Gravity had always worked against her. [color=#008e02]"Mmm, luck is not always mine. I fall a lot."[/color] She nodded once, the grin spreading across her face easily, settling in it's natural course. [color=#008e02]"Is fine... I heal."[/color]

The small squeeze of his hand was all too familiar, the small gesture bringing a happy hum in the back of his mind. [color=#17b529]"She is a sweet one."[/color]

[color=#005dc2]"I am aware."[/color] though the tone in his own mind was something soft and light, tinged with laughter. 

It is a lucky thing that you are a skilled healer, then. was what he sound aloud, the melodic quality of the ancient language seeming so at home with him. So.... fitting. I think I will need to replace my tea. Would you care for one as well? They're quite good. They make it in the old way, here. He could remember the first time he'd had it when he was still young, a happy child bouncing along the streets with his twin in tow. Comfortable, happy memories.

While Megara chuckled lightly, her smile momentarily wavered.[color=#008e02] “Others would disagree.”[/color] Luck was not often on her side or, if it was, others close to her suffered the negative karma. Kirkwall forever lingered in the back of her mind, and while she’d long accepted and mourned the dead, the disbelief that she had survived remained.

The mention of tea though, had her quickly grin. [color=#008e02]“You like Boba?!”[/color] Her eyes glinted in amusement. [color=#008e02]“Alright, but I buy.” [/color]It was the least she could do.

[color=#aaaaaa]It wasn’t our faul-[/color]

[color=#008e02]Hush. He’s wearing hi…[/color]

[color=#008e02]“Oh, first,”[/color] excited hands tucked into her satchel, rummaging to pull out a cloth. Channelling a little magic, Meg would hand offer him a warm, moist towel. [color=#008e02]“For… sticky?”[/color]

Ah! Thank you. That is very kind of you to offer, on both accounts. His flashed her another heart melting smile, taking the cloth from her and going about the business of cleaning the sticky tea off of his body, leaving him glistening in a much more pleasing way than the dark colored tea had. I will clean this and see it returned to you. Now then... tea? 

His arm was offered to her, ever the gentleman.

Megara’s eyes blinked rapidly, a nervous chuckle began to take over her as he thanked her, taking the cloth to clean himself. The smile gifted her caused her hand to pull a stray lock behind an ear in an effort to distract the mild flush to her cheeks. [color=#008e02]“It’s no trouble. We’re going that way anyway.”[/color] Though as he offered to clean the rag and return it, she couldn’t help the snort of amusement. [color=#008e02]“No, no, no. It’s just a rag, a … hanky? Handkerchief?”[/color] She had countless, one less wasn’t going to inconvenience her.

As he offered his arm, Meg’s green eyes shifted between his face and the offered limb. A momentary shyness slipped into the corners of her lips before the healer let hers slip around his, locking the two lightly. [color=#008e02]“Boba Time!”[/color] she’d declare, a short giggle fast on the heels of it. As the two would walk the short distance, Meg’s eyes would search out his, [color=#008e02]“So Elm… what you do?”[/color]