Theo's side and kidney had healed finally, even if the internals were still like to give her fits now and then. Skin healed well enough, but muscle took some time to knit itself together back properly. But she couldn't rest. That fucking blood mage and company that had tried to sacrifice her and the other's had her repeating handbow. And she didn't like that.
She had gone back and collected her axe and longbows from the assholes that had still been there once she had a weapon to go back with, but her repeating handbow had been gone, the second busted, probably when the looters had tried to argue and tug it from one another. But, it meant that this pair she would craft, would be far superior. She had learned so much more about her craft since she had made that set, and as much as the one being destroyed, and the other being lost to her hurt, Theo knew she could always craft another set.
And she had decided to add a fair few upgrades. So while her forge was coming up to temperature in the butt-out of her cottage, she had wandered off down the path back towards Kirkwall. She needed some hard wood, and a bit of flux for what she had in mind. And she had provisions for the month she would be there to pick up from the grocer. So with her hand cart, she had made her way into town, in her bodice and hiked skirts, and made her purchases and pick ups, the items loaded into the cart and orders for the next week for food made and paid for. She's have to head back into town in a fortnight for those, but that was a good time out. She'd have two full weeks of crafting done before she'd have to leave off again.
With the mid-day heat, she hiked her skirt higher, pinning it in place, her bodice only done up to where she couldn't be charged with indecency if someone ran across her along the path as she pulled the cart down the way. The work wasn't challenging, she liked the effort it took -- it would make the bath and sleep that night so much more enjoyable. Maybe she'd read a book until she fell asleep, or maybe she'd recall a smiling face that'd help her fingers do a good job in bringing her an orgasm. She had the cottage all to herself and each of her desires to act upon as she saw fit. But, she really should have thought about taking and harnessing up the horse to the cart and having rode herself down into town, because as she drew closer to the cottage, she felt like she wasn't alone any longer.
It had been some months since they had crossed paths. He’d been through the wringer since then. Outwardly he maintained a slowly slipping facade that he was taking it all in his stride, he was coasting everything that had been turned upside down in the past few months. The loss of his eye being a simple good samaritan. Nairn, appearing out of the woodwork, but not just him, his estranged Father and the entire clan. He’d finally grown comfortable to start settling into Megara’s only to have Nairn blow it up, he barely returned to Nairn’s place opting for the Refectory instead. No-one kept tabs on his drinking there.
He and Nairn had blasted through the last of his stash though which had resulted in a small trip to acquire some more and avoid Megara further. She’d been nagging him to attend tea with her, but instead he had decided on a heavy night of tavern hopping. Freshly stocked on dust, the night had been one to remember though he never would, at least not in its entirety. The drinks had flowed early, party favours rolling in soon after. As always it had started innocently and then recklessness had ensued during a game of truth or dare, all participants too high to care, choosing dare since no-one was here to share a sob story.
How Ruth ended up laying in the street would be left to imagination, all he remembered was Danny’s face appearing amongst the dark night sky, and then he was upright, grinning and swaying along as the artificer attempted to get him somewhere else.
He was left hanging onto the outside gate as Danny pounded on the door. Fading in and out, Ruth grumbled bitterly, then belted out a tune at the top of his lungs until Danny shushed him harshly. The elf scowled at him. I saved your… fucking life. I can sing-hic, whenev’s I choose. Pointedly, Ruth stared, one eye narrowing on Danny attempting to appear intimidating though his slow backwards descent down to the floor would say otherwise. Don’t… fucking laugh at me… Dickhead.
Running a hand through his hair, Danny, instead of helping the healer back up, continued to pound until the dwarf answered. He’d explain finding Ruth, the avoidance of Megara etc, knowing the elf would at least not choke on his own vomit in her care while Danny went back to his real job.
“Can’t take him with me in this state. Thought it best that he was with someone he knows.”
She watched Danny pound on the door as she stopped at the gate eith her hand cart, staring at Ruth. Really? Showing up drunk again? It was heavily mixed with teasing, as she waved to Danny up on the porch, hearing what the lad had to say, before sighing heavily and stepping in to hoist Ruth's arm up over her shoulders. Do me a favor though, roll my cart up here to the porch. Once I get lover-boy here inside and settled down for a nap, I'll unload my provisions so you can get back to what you need to do.
She made sure to situate herself on Ruth's side where he couldn't see her, knowing that it would irritate him slightly, but she wasn't bothered with that, she was bothered that the rest of her afternoon, and her evening time would be spent sobering Ruth up, and hopefully not spending the entire time having to be a warden. Though, by the look of his rather fall down state, she was pretty sure he would pass out in her bed and sleep off what seemed to be an epic hangover.
Once Danny was off, and she had Ruth inside and comfortably into her good chair, with a bucket beside it for good measure, she went and got him a cold glass of water to set beside him on the side table. You keeping drunk so you have an excuse not to join me in my bed? She'd let him stew on that a moment as she got all her purchases inside and set to putting them away, all the windows open, and the large blade fan going to try and move the hot air out. Thank goodness she didn't have the forge going today. She could handle the sweltering heat, she was made for it, but company wouldn't have been able to.
When she finally had everything settled, put away, and in it's proper home, she took a damp cloth from her small bathing area and cleaned up her face, and down her chest from where she had sweat so profusely from the heat. Once she had her face and hands clean though, she decided she would leave it there for the time. No need to tempt fate that he wouldn't vomit all over her floor if she were to take a quick cold bath to wash the rest of the sweat and road grime away. So instead, she brought a clean cool cloth over to press in his hands. Clean your face, and then you can tell your old Dora what it is that has you this shite faced mid-day still.
Danny was all too eager to help Dora with the cart, moving from the door to do as she instructed, leaving the drunk and high elf on the doorstep. Ruth blearily watched through rolling vision the dwarf approach, focus finally clearing when she picked him up only to then disappear to his blind side. That's… low of you he’d mutter, then flash a mean smile in her direction, or, what he thought her direction was.
Uncoordinated, his body swung in her grasp, feet slipping unable to really gain purchase enough to keep him upright until he found himself in the chair. The world continued to spin for a bit, her words eventually reaching him alongside the thud of the water glass nearby. A half-glazed eye slowly found hers, his mind sluggish at first before repeating, ...in my… ha. He’d snort-giggle as she moved off to finish her work.
His eyes closed over trying to block out how topsy turvy this ride was. Her moving around kept his mind aware, but the chair was not where he needed to be, eventually sliding down off the seat to the ground where he lay against the cooler slabs. His body’s temperature fluctuated between the various courses of stimulants in his system, he was truly faded, drunk and high on whatever he had taken or had been offered.
But there was something niggling, causing his eye to open as a slit, Since when you mine, Dora. Or you gone.. Dotti? His brow was laced with suspicion and then in a moment his smoothed over and his eyes closed again. I don’t need a babysitter. A man can drown himself however he likes, or is this your way of sayin’ you wanna ride the bad boy? A wicked, smug snicker filled the air. Who was he kidding, she was straight forward, no nonsense so of course he deflected. Nothin’ wrong with my face, and what’s wrong with gettin’ shitfaced this early? Against some law or som’hin’?
Thought your place would be more… ‘warfy, ain’t nearly as many axes as I figured.
Oh you forget then, She teases as she watches him pour onto the cool slate of the floor, the cooler part of the house for sure, the air above their heads would be sweltering from the forge. It's why she wore very little.clithing as she worked. She was Dwarven, she could take the elements a little better than most, but she hated the heat. Couldn't deal with it, she was a furnace on her own, so she liked the cool. I'm as much yours as you are mine. I'm your axe, you're my healer. We work well that way.
She took the washcloth back to the sink and pulled down a bowl instead, filling it with some iced water and dropping three clean cloths in it. She then brought a pillow over from her bed and placed the objects on the floor with them, before wringing out one of the cloths and moving to wash his face off for him, gently, with care, if he'd let her. Nah, I know you don't need a baby sitter Ruth, and I wouldn't take advantage of you even if you wanted me too. You sober up and we'll talk about me using your face as a seat, until then, keep it in your pants.
She kept her voice level, teasing, gentle on his head. She didn't know how he'd react to being taken care of, and she knew he was fiercely independent, knew there were parts of him he still kept hidden all the time. And the last time she had seen him he hadn't been this angry. She knew it was because of the eye, which she was not making any comment on. I'm hurt, I like my house not being dwarven, after all, I like it being comfortable, homey. But you can't tell me you don't think having a forge and anvil next to my dressing wardrobe isn't very dwarf like.
After a bit, she took the cloth away, and then wrung out a new one to place back in it's place, knowing the cool would help him, if he accepted the help. I'm not saying that being this far to the wind mid-day is bad, just not something I would choose. Lift your head a little, I brought you a pillow.
She placed the down soft cushion down next to his head so she could place it quickly for him. And if you don't wanna talk that's fine too, I can tell you about my new repeater, I've got some of the new parts I need for it, it's fascinating really. May I help you take some of this armor off so it's a little more comfortable down here on the floor?
He hated the cold, the damp, and when he had to trudge through snow? The God’s couldn’t put a happy spin on it to lighten his mood dealing with that nonsense, but the coolness of the slabs grounded him in the present, offering a comforting balm to his wandering reality. There was a sharp, shrill of an empty laugh when she explained the symbiosis of their arrangement. I work best as trouble and I don’t work well with others… You do, cos you’ve an axe.
A broad grin spread across his face, mind thinking and wandering down paths of comments he’d entertain and snicker at but not air. The floor felt nice, but the view of the ceiling was bullshit when he peeked open to look. Fuckin’... idiot ruined the view. Despite his eye clearly being closed now, he’d been cloud watching through his high earlier. The line across his brow deepened as she moved things around him and once the cold cloth pressed against his face the elf reacted, an uncoordinated hand reached for her wrist while he glared at her.
Stop nannyin’ me then, taking the cloth from her to drape around his neck instead. Sober? Ha. Here’s a not-so-secret-secret. Haven’t been that in years, Dotti. He grinned then, Dotti. Dora. Why your pet names gotta be the D?
The gentleness of her voice though, even with the teasing, settled him back down. He listened, swapping out the rag around his neck for a fresher one and then deciding to shed his shirt entirely. He’d managed to pull it over his head, blond locks ruffled while she prattled on about her home. The question came out on its own during the lull, catching even Ruth off guard, What else you like? adding, Not smutty books, we got that last time, offering a lopsided smirk and leaning back down.
A pleasant groan vibrated out of his chest as bare skin found cool stone and he’d rub the side of his face into the newly acquired pillow. That felt better though the distraction she was offering failed to spark any interest than an indifferent stare. You… again a soft laugh took him, ... fuck it, I’ll bite. There’s… a fuckton of reasons why I am and do the things I do. I’ve been… abandoned, more than once, someone's practice dummy, a prisoner, a slave, betrayed, maimed, palm brushed back the hair hiding his scared socket, Reward for a Good deed, was a Gentleman then, you’d’ve been proud. Which was dubious but on this occasion true. Had my digs blown up… this just the tip of the iceberg Spiderbait, you ain’t no fuckin’ idea. Any one of them is a reason to get wankered. So. Wankered I am.
Dunnae be mad at the boy, he was just following orders, you know. And if you like it, later when it's not so hot mid-day sun, I'll go back out with you for cloud watching, if you' wanna. She wasn't used to taking care of drunks, whe was normally the one drunk, but she didn't like being so far gone in her head that the only thing she could focus on was her sorrows. Nah, not her way of doing things, she'd much rather be outside her head seeing the world for itself. Besides, I think you're just angry you got stuck with me.
She smirked as she watched him shed his shirt, taking it and folding it nearly near the pillow. Ain't nannying you either. I'm taking care of a friend who just so happens to be my guest now, and I like taking care of my guests, when they don't hold a dagger and stare threateningly the entire time. You're free to leave if you like, you know. I'd like if you'd stay, I get lonely out here sometimes. Theo leaned back, hugging her legs to her chest then there beside him, thinking about his wuestion. I like the water, even if I cannae swim, and I don't not like romance stories, just, I don't think I recognize the romantic part of it, am I supposed to want flowers and grand jesters over someone who'd sit with me in comfortable silence, maybe hold my hand, or read to me while I work on something? She shrugged as she got up and brought over something from her work bench to tinker with, settling back beside him once she had the item, I never said nothing about filthy books though, where do you think I got the idea from having little Mina stick a whole hand inside me from? She gave him a wink as she found a good place for her to be in his line of vision, but not be right on top of him.
And then the confession started, and she fell quiet, her fingers eventually pausing on her work, and setting it aside to instead to give him her full attention, seeing as the man rarely gave her any insight into what made him tick. When he went to push his hair back, she couldn't help it, and her fingers went to brush his hair back from his face completely, ever so gently raking her nails along his scalp as she did. She knew he would accuse her of nannying him again, but she didn't see it that way.
Thank you, for choosing to trust me with that. I didn't know you were carrying all that around with you, I'm sorry, for what it's worth, that your Gods are playing cruel tricks on you, and that the only out seems to be this. Her fingers went to curl a lock around his ear, the touch lingering, but not falling into the realm of awkwardly long, but longer than just an innocent touch. I won't give you false platitudes or empty words about being better, or that the sun will shine another day, but if you need a friend, there's a seat here along side me lover boy.
He’d been trying to forget those sorrows. Numb himself enough that the demons in his mind would leave him be for a time. Yet it never truly worked, they were never gone, his impulses were only heightened and the worser parts of him took front and centre. Pfft. Anger is easy, but no. Not angry at you. The meaning behind those words deeper than she’d know, though perhaps in time would come to understand.
He raised a brow at her, knowing full well what it looked like given his profession. Danny’s too kind a soul. Most would’ve just left me. Nairn might’ve dragged me in eventually, be nice to him, he’s dumber than I am. He’d chuckle at the assassin’s expense. Told you already, no digs and am I fuck going to the house and dealing with her. Here’s… fine.
Ruth had expected the question to be brushed off, not truthfully answered, causing the slight teasing grin to soften at the edges. She’d certainly matched his teasing and antics head-on, but suddenly there was this softer, vulnerability to her that Ruth struggled with, unsure what to do with it. There was the usual lewd voice and he nearly tripped over himself to say it, face contorting with the effort. I’d read shit to you, I’d find and read all the smutty ones. No. He’d save that for the perfect revenge.. If he remembered, which was unclear. So Ruth focused on something he could play with, You can’t swim? Bit stupi-.. Is that why you kept freakin’ in the bath, too deep?
The action of her hand reaching through his hair had him flinch at first, eye narrowed, though as nails scraped gently along he’d smirk, it all but falling flat when she next spoke. Huffing, Ruth rolled his eye, God’s ain’t nothin’ to do with it, Precious. People. People screw other people over easy enough. There’s no divinity in simple greed.
He’d shift to lay on his stomach when she left to retrieve something. There were a few new silver trails against his skin, and while his eye had been the main casualty since their last encounter the rest blended into the tapestry of scars. Then that finger of hers traced a lock along his ear and Ruth’s body went rigid, he paused mid-breath, attempting to steel the natural reaction. He’d pull his head away before the pleasurable shudder broke out along his nerves. A not so pleasant memory surfaced in its wake, out of the gloom of his desired numbness, his hand snatching her wrist again but with a sterner and firmer grip, mouth taught while a deep pain flashed.
Nah, you wouldn't have to leave and find him if that's what you wanted, I'm right here, and we know I've a mouth on me. The words were from her mouth before she could reign them back in, her mind had been set in a scene of him completely debauched on her floor, struggling to keep reading the book in his hands because she wouldn't continue unless he was reading aloud. She flushed red and hoped against hope that he was too drunk to remember that come the next day. But here, on her floor, he was being himself, not hiding behind a mask, and her view of him was softer. She liked when he was real with her, showed her more than just the armor the rest of the world got.
And if she was honest with herself, which she wasn't ready to be yet, it was those small cracks in the armor that she caught glimpses of him through, that so disarmed her. He was rude, crass, and gave her shit, but there was something else there too, something that kept her looking for those small cracks, to see past the veneer and under to the man she'd seen glimpses of over the time she had known him. Glimpses of the man that kept her awake some nights wondering if one day she would be brave enough to be serious in her teasing.
And hopefully the day she was serious, he's take her seriously too.
But for that, he needed to be sober.
The scars along his back caught her eyes, and Theo prayed he hadn't seen when her hand had moved of it's own accord to trace along those lines, not in pity, but because a part of her wanted to know their stories; wanted to pull the shit memory she knew would be associated with the lattice work of scar tissue, and give some new meaning to them, before she caught herself, and reminded herself that it wasn't her place or right to want any of those things. She was a friend, and would be, because it seemed liked Ruth wasn't fortunate enough to keep very many of those through his life, and she knew what that loss felt like, knew the loneliness that could come, even when surrounded by a room of people. How damaging it was to the soul, to the heart. And what she figured brought his drunkenness about.
So lost in thought, she had been when he grabbed her, that she startled, rattled from her brain as she focused in on his face, not flinching from the lack of an eye, nor the scaring, not flinching from the grip he had on her. He wasn't his friend, gripping a dagger the whole time - knowing he could kill her he was so close. This was Ruth, and the touch had meant to be a comfort to him, something small, something she could and wanted to give, and apparently he...
It's my own fault for thinking I could be a comfort.
'm sorry, was the barely murmured response, as she held his gaze a few beats more, her heart beat suddenly too loud in her ears, pulse racing as she tried to will it to slow back down, to not give her away that heart knew what her mind refused to even contemplate, not yet at least, not now. Not... I should have asked, sorry. She finally flicked her eyes over to his hand on her wrist, those hands she closed to watch while he worked, her heart immediately charging back to life. Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, of course you don't want to be touched, you just.. hells you just told me you.. and I,
Stone, she was an idiot. Of course he didn't want to be touched, he had just told her about the abuse and she went and touched him without permission, of course he'd tell her to not do that. Rest, I won't touch you again unless you say it's alright. Theo couldn't bring herself to look back into his eye then, face red, pulse still thundering in her ears and through her veins.
Ruth laughed. It shook the weight of the last few hours off his shoulders for a time and all too quickly the dark crept its way back in, gloomy now, but still blanketing him. You’re good for more than your mouth though. A smirk appearing, though more boyish than his usual snark and it too fading quickly as he added I see Ruthmillion’s workin’ for you though. His eye narrowed some, grin flashing teeth with a wicked gleam. Was ‘em dirty thoughts Dora? Shame. Shame. I’m in no state. His head swayed from side to side in drunken sorrow.
He didn’t need to see to know, it was faint though, his system overwhelmed by drink and dust. It was a common question, along with the dalish script along his forearms, but the scars seemed to attract the over curious. None of them ever asked the first real question. They don’t hurt anymore.
His transient lifestyle had been ingrained in him from birth. The Dalish moved around like migrating packs of geese and when he’d left, the Templars had quickly caught the wandering teen. Those years of confinement, stuck with the daily threat of death because his magic attracted spirits, healers always did. He set his mind to freedom and achieved it, his roots were planted in freedom, however it looked after that, but mostly out of the hands of templars until recent years.
The memory of his mother running her hands through his hair, paying attention to his ears faded with her babbling apologies. Ruth watched her carefully, her sudden shame irking him more than it would normally. His snapped reaction had startled her, sensing her heartbeat in his grip, but he loathed the pity, or what he thought as pity for his circumstances. Theo, he started, hoping him using her name gained her attention before his his grip eventually tugged for it. Shut up being sorry about stuff you don’t know about. Shifting a little his other hand came over and ruffled her hair for good measure.
After a sigh, he’d let her go, head falling back onto the pillow. No one does that to my ears. Not even Mina. It’s not personal. A frown began forming across his lips as Ruth let the past few minutes play over again, eye opening to sneak a glance her way. I didn’t hurt you, did I?
Good, if they still hurt... she didnt know what she'd do if they still hurt him, only that the thought of it made that dull ache in her chest feel ten times more intense, more sharp, more acutely real. The idea of him being in pain, being hurt, it scared her, more than she realized as she looked from his eyes, down, and then back up again once she thought she could look to him and not have it mistaken for pity. Ruth was a proud person, and she wouldn't do that to him.
Dora's eyes narrowed a bit as he called her Theo. How many bloody times had she told him her name was Theo, over the time they'd know one another, hells, she had been telling him her name was Theo when she had been run through. After though, when he had brought Narin around, after that, no. That ain't my name, no from your lips, no like that Ruth, makes me think you're mad at me, calling me that. I'm Dora, Ruth. You're the only one who gets to call me that, so call me it.
When did it get so hot in the room, and when did it feel like she had been the one drinking, or that empty ache that threatened to have her breathing betray that she had no idea what was happening. No, you didn't hurt me, but I am gonna touch you, just not ya ears, since not even lil Mina gets to do that. She slid her hand through his grasp some, so that his fingers weren't over her pulse any more, wouldn't do to have him wondering why her heart rate was so high all the sudden, even as she closed her eyes and leaned into the touch of his other hand some, even if it did mess up her hair, her fingers lingering in his hold until he left go, the skin under immediately turning cool again, pebbling into goose flesh from the sudden lack.
Poor woman was touch starved, she wouldn't deny it if asked outright. Look, Cheeky, you have a new goal now, to get sober enough for me to tell you whether my thoughts you wanna know about were dirty or not, I can have dirty thoughts just, my head doesn't usually hold onto them for too long. I think. Sometimes they stay, and it certainly wasn't imagining what you'd do if you had to keep reading a novel aloud while receiving oral stimulation.
Teasing. Teasing was familiar territory, and she had enjoyed the true smile he had given her a few moments ago, wanted to see it again, before it was carefully hidden back under something else. He was there, between the cracks, and she was going to find him again.
What? What you gonna do? The bears dead, thumb pointing to three long lines that ran from one shoulder down underneath his pantline, the rest… well I piss people off a lot, the faintest spasm hinted at his shoulders shrugging. He pissed one person off, one in particular by merely breathing wrong, but he wasn’t talking about his father, not on this night. If she pressed him, he’d lie like he had thousands of times before. He’d exaggerate the story like the writer dwarf Tethras before giving up the truth.
Calling her Theo seemed to do the trick though. Ruth’s grin sprawled proud across his face when he caught her narrowed look, chuckling as she admonished the use of her given name and not the pet name he’d penned her.
Interesting. Though it gave him an opening to deflect the sudden tension, ease that reddening face of hers. Brows shot upwards and snickering, he’d pre-emptively prepared himself for a smack as, Ok, ok, pipe down, Dora the Explorer, clearly cracked out from his throat.
Yet the shift of her hand into his had his attention, sniggers shallowing while his brow turned curious before her words then rolled. Nanny, muttered half-heartedly until he broke the contact.
The floor beckoned him and accustomed to roughing it in the wilds, he made himself comfortable. Every effort to move was taxing, slowed as the combination in his system ran its course, fatigue finally catching up with the elf. Sure, Spiderbait, sure. I’ll just kick the shit.. Soon as a few demons.. Get fucked. A tired eye peeked back open, had the other been intact a pair of bright blues would gaze out muted, fixed on the floor and lost in thought. Her filth only drew a soft scoff though, distant from the usually mischievous one. Did he even know who he was, sober?
Maybe one day I’ll surprise you. Maybe he'd surprise himself.
Oi! You get Dora, but none of that now. But, she couldn't keep the smile off her face that was suddenly there, even as she poked his bare stomach at the nanny crack, getting up from the floor as he slid back to laying down. A nap, through the hottest part of the day, was the best fix for now, a nap would have them both in a better place, and him a little more sober, hopefully. So she grabbed another pillow from her bed box, and tossed it over next to his, a blanket followed, as she came back to lay down herself. Hope so, I think I'd like sober Ruth a lot.
She sighed as she settled down onto the soft blanket. And before you say it's weird, it's only in case you throw up while you sleep. So I can roll you up on your side fast enough. Not a happy thought, nor keeping the buzz goin, but, if you die on my floor, Narin will have my guts for garters, and I only just started workin for him, so, deal with it. Her back on the floor, she breathed deeply, her eyes closing. Gonna be too hot here soon to do much more than sleep, and I'm not sleeping outside where the sun will turn my skin to a crisp and I'll have ta beg you to heal the burn. Let's take a nap, and then we can share a nice bottle of wine once the heat settles and it starts getting cold into the night time.
She could sleep on command, all the longer she had been an adventurer, so the moment she felt him drift off, she was gone as well, absolutely certain she would wake if he moved, or started to choke or some other equally shitty thing that could come from being drunk and high.
~*~
As predicted, she was awake before him, as much her custom during the spring. The middle of the day was too hot to do much more than sleep, so it was habit, she reminded herself as her eyes snapped open and she was off to starting on some sort of dinner that wouldn't make her guest sick, so potatoes, meat, and some other root veggies made their way into the cooking pot, and were set over the open flame of her oven to simmer until it would be time to eat. And as promised, she had already been under the house, getting a bottle of something red out to drink. She had very simple tastes. Good simple food of the best quality ingredients, and her alcohol the best she could afford that appealed to her tongue. And red wine was her favorite if it was just her.
As she waited for him to wake, she pulled one of her books off the shelf, sitting back down near by to read in the mean time. She would have fired up her forge and worked on the next set of gears for Narin's chest piece, but...
But I want to let him sleep as much as he can. So maybe she was like a nanny.. it didn't help that that was the only way she knew to show someone she appreciated them -- she wouldn't venture as far as love, but appreciate she could.
His expression flipped from snicker to grunt, eye narrowed on her in disapproval while a hand dropped to rub where she’d poked him. He bit back calling her out, instead letting his gaze hazily follow her until she claimed to like the sober him. Ruth’s eye rolled, doubtful of both the sincerity of her words and the idea of sobriety, terrifying, grunting, Don’t. You might be disappointed.
He stared at her, brow furrowing as she settled down on the floor alongside him. The reason soon fell from her lips. Nanny. Like Megara, handling him with kit gloves, just without the added grumbled dalish. He’d grunt, Uhuh. A lazy smirk crawled along his face, Not cos you like my company. Noooo. Not at all. Well, I’m turnin’ over. Ruth wasn’t sure how to feel about her closeness, unsettling him enough that he knew sleep wouldn't be possible so he rolled over onto his other side, facing away from her. The buzz of alcohol and euphoria of the dust slowly faded him into unconsciousness, dreams peppered by nightmares and painful memories that disturbed, but didn’t wake from.
~*~
Evening came and Ruth stirred slowly, ears listening while he cursed existence in the back of his mind. Muscle’s ached and even with the few hours sleep, fatigue clung to him like a weighted cloak grounding him on the stone floor for now. Nerves felt exposed, sensitive to stimuli, as quietly as she did move about, every sound and action grated, fraying his already aggravated mood further.
How the fuck did he get here?
A hand moved along the stone, searching for one of his shirts was the first true indication of his waking state and once found dragged towards him.
You are annoyingly chirpy, he’d mutter, slowly pulling himself up to sitting, threading the fabric through his palms before redressing.
Chirpy? I didn't even do work in my shop while you were out, so I don't know where you get chirpy from. She looked up over the edge of the book she had been reading, her cheeks red and pupils fully dilated from the colorful language the author had been using, before she set the book aside and let her eyes roam his chest and side before the shirt would be pulled back over. Frowning and making a sad sound that he was covering up, reminding herself it wasn't like either of them hadn't already seen the other naked.
But soon enough her eyes went to the window and the setting sun, washing the world outside in a nice bit of reds, pinks, and oranges, the dark blues and purples further in the sky blending together well from her view. Soon as the sun slipped below the horizon though, it would be cold, and as thus, she poked at her fire place with an iron poker as he dressed. I was afraid the floor might have been too hard on your back, but you seemed to sleep, for the most part. Being a guest in my house right now, are ya hungry?
She rose up from where she sat and padded silently over to the kitchen hutch, checking her simmering pot of soup, trying a spoonful after she blew on it a few times to cool the mouthful of root vegetable down to where she could chew it. She was no chef, the majority of her cooking was simple, natural flavors and salt and pepper mostly the extent of what she could do, but she cooked for nourishment when she did, she liked simple and hearty, it kept her muscles working and not wasting away when she didn't have an axe or hammer in hand. Needs a bit longer, so if you're staying for supper might as well get comfy. You are welcome to stay for supper, by the way.
She didn't want to look over at the moment and see him frowning. She knew he was wasted and she didn't want to kick him while he was down by telling him he needed to figure stuff out before long. She reminded herself that she had said she would be a friend, so her home would be open until she decided it wasn't. And since she was going to be there a few weeks while she worked, she decided, while he slept, she'd ask him for the company. I do happen to like your company, by the way. Even when ya tease me, short arse.
