The heat of her forge drove her from her home during the middle part of the day, the heat far too much for her to bear, far too hot for a dwarf life her even. Inside her home, the temperatures had reached a sweltering critical mass, that even all the windows open and fan running couldn't clear out fast enough. And she was sticky with sweat and grime from spending the past two days refining her metals down to as pure as she could get them, the slag floated and skimmed off.
She felt dehydrated and moody, but she was happy. The metal would be good for the next part of making replacement parts for Nairn. Instead of waiting for something to break, or reach a critical failure, she was spending time forging out new parts to have on hand, of the parts she was estimating to be the ones that would break next. If she could get ahead of then, to use some of the skills her parents had taught her, well, it would bode well for long life and prosperity for her. Propping open her front door, she tossed herself into the hammock on her porch, letting the spring breeze cool her down.
She'd work metal into shape, with hammer and anvil, after a bit, but first, she raised a jug of cool water to her lips and drank deeply, nearly choking on the fluid as it wet her long dry throat -- an old trick of a little salt and sugar in the jug, had her feeling much better after a few minutes, a bare foot hanging lazily over the edge of her hammock. Two more gears, and a new gear stem for the secondary housing, and then another new blade for my handbow, that will probably account for every bit of that billet.
She talked to herself as she swung back and forth, Maybe a chain drive instead of the current belt.. could go hydraulics, that'd pump more like a real heart than the blasted clock work type nonsense. She pulled a chewy candy from her skirt pocket, happy to see it wasn't melted as she started to gnaw on one end. Oblivious that anyone would be coming to visit her. No one ever came to visit her, really. Nairn to escape, Ruth never came of his own accords, always for something other than just a visit. And well, she didn't really have anyone else besides Garryn, and she doubt the younger dwarf would just "stop by". Hydraulic would mean a smaller housing and quieter operation... and its not like Nairn can't afford you..
He wasn’t sure why he’d been placed in charge of delivering them, but if Nairn had his way there would be no-one but an empty room where he’d still find a corner to hide him and Megara away in. That wouldn’t do. They had to celebrate, if just to make the assassin uncomfortable as fuck, payback for some of the bullshit his foolishness had cost them all in the past week or so. Ruth had decided already who would be accompanying him to this nauseating event of sunshine and kittens and unicorns probably shitting out left, right and centre, he needed a familiar distraction. There were just a few stops to deliver the invitations to before swinging by the Back Water to Mina.
Ruth smirked to himself as he walked down the street, fingers pulled the cigarette from his mouth to release a plume of smoke that followed behind him. His plan of inviting the elf as his plus one was two fold, especially knowing Colt would probably be in attendance too. The look on the beanpole’s face when he strode in with Willie on his arm was one of the perks in attending, the shit-gremlin in him snickered wickedly.
While the weather had improved of late, Ruth’s still wore a number of layers while switching it up for more breathable fabrics. His black outer robe hung open and somewhere along his nightly adventures the elf now sported a pair of tinted sun lenses. These were a game changer, both providing a refuge for his eye from the glare of daylight and hiding his other mauled orbit. Catching himself in the reflection of a window, Ruth paused, peering over the lenses to look at himself. Fuck, now they were becoming a permanent thing, adding to his rogue-healer-tomb raider aesthetic perfectly. Style always beats class anyway, he’d think to himself.
What he hadn’t expected was to come across her like this. The hammock was a nice touch, it drew his attention immediately, brow furrowing slightly, it was a coincidence surely? It was how he always slept on the road, well, between two nearby tree’s anyway. A hammock was sometimes safer than rolling out a bedroll on the ground, but then with her being so short it brought up a whole host of other questions.
You know talking to yourself is a sign of madness right, Spiderbait? he’d call from the end of the path. Flashing her his usual grin, Ruth flicked his ciggy out into the road before walking up, hands returning to the pockets of his coat. I won’t say a word, all the best people are mad, including me.
Her toes found the column of the covered porch, giving herself a small push so she swayed there in the hammock, happy as she drew up plans in her head. Eventually she'd want to do an entire overhaul, so it was that planning that had her miss that there were foot steps coming up her path, to her little hillside cottage, missed the opening of the gate several yards down the pathway, and missed a familiar blond head bobbing along the tall grasses that she hadn't had to chance to go after with a scythe yet this year. They were dead stalks, so she really did need to go and cut them down sooner, rather than later.
Suffice it to say, Dora was distracted when she rolled in the hammock at the unexpected voice that tended to cloud her judgement over the past few weeks. She had meant to roll out, and grab her axe, all the startled she was, but the momentum kept going, and wrapped her over in the soft fabric and rope. Her foot that had been hanging out of the side the only thing that stopped her from up-ending herself a second time in the twist, her toes barely caught on the plank under her. One of these days, she wouldn't make a fool of herself when it came to Ruth -- today was not that day, unfortunately for her, and the groan she gave that it would be him to catch her like this. Not only did he had the spider incident, and her making a fool of herself a week back, but now this would add to the list of things that he would, eventually, use to tease her with.
Don't laugh, she threatened, face already turning red, as she tried to keep herself from laughing, it was so ridiculous there in the moment. So when he said he was mad too, she lost it, wrapped in the hammock, like they did with people who lost their minds, one foot keeping her from swinging still, upside down and facing the planked porch as she tried to get eyes on him, and failed miserably. So she hung, reigning back in her laughter. But I will beg an assist this time, please Ruth. I think the rope has a chunk of hair if the tugging feeling at the back of my head is any indication and I'd like to not go around with a bald patch for several years. She sighed. Serves me right for laying out with it down. And then she broke down into laughing again because it dawned on her, he had come to her "rescue" yet again.
A rumbling laugh fell from the elf’s throat as she twisted, spun the hammock in such a way even he’d have winced at the fall. It was a credit to her though, that she didn’t land flat on her face, garnering a little respect from Ruth. He’d have been flat on his face, probably spouting a broken nose in the process.
Too late, he’d snicker, hastening his pace, but clearly not running to her aid. Na, she got herself into it, she could sit, well, hang for a second or two till he got there. A sly smirk began crawling its way along his face at her predicament once he’d got closer, lips eventually pursing as he mumbled something under his breath to himself, too low for her to hear. Totally not an image I’mma use later. All tied up and nowhere to go.
At least she was laughing about it and not yelling at him, cursing him to get her down. It made a nice change though he couldn’t pinpoint as to why. Just as long as you don’t kick me, he’d tease, Not even been here five minutes, and what? My call out interrupt a nice daydream? He’d chuckle smugly, one hand wrapping around her anchoring foot while the other took the tension of the hammock. Alright, count of three… one… two… He didn’t even say three, hands working together to realign dwarf and hammock properly, letting go at the right moment so it didn’t swing up and catch him, knocking him into it. That would’ve surely fucked them both and landed them both eating dust.
Stepping back, one hand steadied the swing while he grinned, Better? Or you gonna be sick? Better not be sick on me.
Please, she started, her voice still holding the amusement and embarassment at her current predicament. Ya already turn me fifteen shades of ruthmillion on a good day, what's another day? She tried again to get turned a bit so she could look back at him, the tangle of her hair making it impossible for her to do so, but she heard something there, What was that? Dora wasn't sure if that was something for her ears, or him cursing the fact he always had to get her out of the most insane situations. She was betting on the latter. If the tables were reversed, she would have a couple choice words, especially if he was as bad as she was at accepting help and healing.
She knew her faults.
And when he told her not to kick him, she nodded. Nah, if and when I kick you Ruth, there will be good justifiable reasoning behind it, even if you deserve one for startling me. It ain't justifiable yet. Then his fingers were on the bare skin of her ankle as he went to turn her, those digits that had been interrupting her day dreams recently, that time he had to hold her insides together when she was intent on not letting him -- his hands had been on her hip, flared out over her abdomen. Now removed from the immenent death risk, the memory was revisited now and then when her brain wouldn't let her imagine anyone else. Something that was becoming rapidly annoying. Ruth was her friend, and she was pretty sure he wouldn't like the idea of her supplementing his hands into her alone time.
Then she was turned right side up, and faced with the object of those day dreams in full, living color, for a few seconds, before the world was spinning again. Unfortunately, this time, she was dragging him along too. The momentum of flipping her back over hadn't arrested, and so instead of stopping to where she could disentangle herself and stand on her own two feet, instead she, and by the odd chance, him, tumbled over as the hammock finally bit the dust and fell, dropping them in a tumble of limbs to the planks below that made up her front porch.
She had squeezed her eyes shut as they flipped again, bracing to feel her back to the floor, but instead she felt a soft, warm body under her as the flip came to a halt, the fabric and netting of the hammock settling over them both. It took her a few moments, to realize what had happened to them, before she was laughing, and trying to sit up to get her weight off him, the fabric and netting making that a bit difficult as the laugh that had started on her lips, died as she realized she couldn't just get off him.
"Oh no.." Dora thought as her legs slid down his sides to try and sit up completely again, panic gripping her for a moment being trapped, her breath coming fast as she leaned up as much as she could. Stone, Ruth, I.. I'm sorry I'm trying to get off you, I swear it!
Fate, it would seem, liked keeping her the brightest shade of red possible when it came to him.
Nothin’ Ruth muttered louder, head tilting to figure out how best to untangle her without her face eating dust. And then she was clouding his already fogged mind, of her doing naughty things that caused a wicked snicker, to then only shake his head instead. Justifiable? Oh, he could certainly make it so, he was reckless enough, pushed peoples buttons to the brink.
Still, the skin to skin contact of her ankle - of all things - caused the usual rampant rogue in him to pause, adjust accordingly. She was a lady in distress after all, a bastard wasn’t what she needed right now. Ruth pushed, pulled in places until the swing righted, but somewhere, somehow the elf’s robe snagged, the momentum hurtling the tiny woman at him.
Previously upright and grounded, suddenly Ruth’s shaded gaze met the clear blue sky above with a chuckling wheeze. Ooow. He was gonna have bruises on both sides tomorrow and with a groan he’d toss out, Gonna tell folk you did this on purpose. Not that she’d meant it, it was know gravity worked against him, but it was also in this moment his eyes averted from sky to her, reality settling on exactly where she was.
Weeell, fuck.
Then the wriggling began and it took nearly everything in him to stall the heat and pressing of places, gaining a reaction he’d rather not explain right now. Her flustering though presented enough of a distraction, smirk widening while she fought to free herself, her limbs digging into him with her efforts. Grunting, Ruth’s head rose up, the lenses falling back over to shade his eyes, hide a little. Stop. Moving. His instruction clear, calm while amusement slowly spread across his face. I dunno how you fuckin’ managed it, but if you don’t unsnag my arm, you gonna be flushin’ a whole new different shade with all you’re fidgeting…. And you fucking kicked me. She hadn’t, but it was all he could say to keep this strictly above board and his head in the game.
But noooo, take your time, Spiderbait. I’ll just enjoy the shade changing.
It took Dora about half a second to freeze when he told her to stop moving. This was a right pickle they were both in, and she was panicked more about not being able to get off him, than anything. She was assuming her dwarven frame was too much on his elf frame, not that her very core was pressed right against bits of him that she had no right to be thinking about in that moment. And then he teased.
Normally she would have scowled at him, told him to fuck off, but this was a bit different, and so she froze there, taking in his words, her eyes focusing on those shades of his as she chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip. A deep breath later and she was very purposely moving. I didn't kick you, I merely caused the hammock to follow us over. It's these robes of yours that caught and decided to bring you with me for the over under. She could feel parts lower in her abdomen heat, her heart thundering in her chest as she worked methodically, trying to keep the wiggling to a minimum like he asked, but even then, it was painfully obvious that they were slotted together in a way that would be taking over as her new daydream. Keep teasing like that and I'll start thinking you're serious.
Dora's cheeks were red, not as red as they'd been in the past of course, but they were red as her lips parted and she twisted in just a way that she got the bulk of the fabric off them, so that she could get a good look at the netting. Remind me next time you're in a hammock on the road to give you a good spin or three. Just. A. Friend. She reminded herself, forcefully, willfully, in her mind as she finally was able to get the netting free enough that she could sit up, and toss bits that had been holding her down on him free. Her hand touched his chest, as she fell over to his side, making sure that the leg that was still over him had more than enough clearance to not accidentally rack him in the process. I think you try and engineer these situations so that you can see just how red you can make me flush.
Probably would have better luck bending me over a counter top, she thought quietly, as she rolled to her back, and stared at the sky, a hand on her belly as she tried to will herself to sink down into the earth and vanish. It was not my intentions to accost you via hammock today, I swear it. But the giggle that started in her chest, and kept going into a full out laugh, had her searching his face then with her smile, tears in the corners of her eyes, because the whole situation was hilarious to her. Oh Ruth, you're not really hurt are you, I'll never forgive myself if I hurt you by falling onto you.
Ruth’s brows rose poignantly as she tried to place the blame on him. Oh, so it’s all my fault, is it? Here’s me thinking I was being a gentleman coming to help dear Dora the Damsel. But no, instead she decides to hurl herself at me and use me as a cushion.
Brows wiggled, chuckle soft, But it’s so much fun watching you lose your words. Begs the question if you’re gettin’ rusty. Not been out on the road much these past few months have you? This position was going to haunt him, his own words betraying him as they fell, conjuring further imagery made all the sweeter with her slotted against him.
Ruth swallowed. Don’t think, just talk, the voice in his head muttered, pushing down the blissful sensation of friction when she began twisting more cautiously. The netting eventually came away and he felt the taut chord holding him down give the bonds loosened enough that now only her own self planted him there. Now this was a view, grin flashing filthy until her accusation that he had some sort of hand in creating these situations caused him to laugh, Yeah, I have a fucked up relationship with gravity. You’re just the innocent bystander to get caught up in our latest fight. As if she was innocent in all this. Behind the shades Ruth’s eyes narrowed, torn for once, unable to give into the urge of lifting his head a few inches and stealing a kiss.
But this was Dora. And now she was Nairn’s mechanic, she wasn’t just a casual fuck he could get away with. Nor would he do that, not to her.
Her retreat was welcomed, Ruth’s exhale a mixture of relief and now a growing frustration that he’d have to fix later. The images… might take him a bit longer, he’d muse, maybe a lot longer. Lifting an arm to push the lenses atop his head, Ruth rubbed his face while she giggled helplessly next to him. Uhuh. he’d scoff, head turning some. Oh I’m fine, probably gonna have bruises on both sides, but no organs are damaged if that’s what you’re asking. His words were tempered though as he studied her, the ego in them still tangible but softened as the harshness of his brow smoothed out with a sigh.
Ruth’s gaze returned to the sky above them, limbs stretching out to then lay lax across the ground. ...Whoever designed that needs to get fucked. I hope you didn’t spend good coin on it. Should demand your gold back cos it’s faulty as hell if it can’t handle a Ruth encounter.
Before she had rolled off him, Dora swore there had been a moment that he was going to kiss her, but she had to be imagining it, she was projecting her wants onto a simple thing -- the plain and simple of it was that she had probably been crushing him, after all, all the muscle she had wasn’t a light thing, especially for an elf, all the more delicate they were, and not that he had been thinking of closing the gap between them and taking her first true kiss. A freely given one, not one she had bought and paid for, that was an obligation, not the gift that a kiss was meant to be. And now her imagination was running away with her, as she laid there beside him on her porch.
They had laid together on her floor a week back, ad she was still a little miffed at him for leaving that evening. She had worried sick over him for more hours than she cared to share. But that was the fact Ruth was important to her, nothing more. He was a friend and it was a natural thing to worry about a friend, to hold a deep ache in one’s soul when they thought pain had been caused, or could happen. That was [i]philia[/q] for one, after all, even if the philosopher she had read hadn’t given her the tools to figure out if their friendship was one of utility, of pleasure, or of goodness. And she was happy with a love of friendship, she could be happy with it. She would be happy with it. She had to be. To keep him in her life, she had to accept that he would come and go when, and if he pleased.
So she’d take what little moments she could get.
Oh come now, it’s been at least a week since you had your fix of me, soon you’ll be here every other day because you can’t get enough of your flushing dwarf, even if she does become an innocent by-stander in your battle with gravity. And all you have to do is ask if you want me to kiss those bruises better, you know. Dora teased back, happy to lay there a little bit longer. Aye. I’ll take it back into Kirkwall this week and demand they fix the blasted thing, or give me another. I can’t end up straddling you every time you happen to startle me in the hammock. And as you say, she rolled her head over, lifting a brow. It’s got to survive an encounter with you, and if this proved anything, we’d not have made it past foreplay. Eventually, in the middle of those sentences, her cheeks had flushed their usual deep red that only he seemed to bring out in her, her eyes flicked down to his lips, and then back to his eye. She was certain now that he was going to feature prominently in her usual imagined scenario. She at least knew now how it would feel to have him between her legs, and that was enough to start her pulse racing again, so she thought of anything else she could.
So what brings you by this time, Ruth, or are you gonna make me beg for that too?
Ruth had never been so grateful that he enjoyed his clothes loose in fitting. He willed his hips to remain still even as she slipped her weight off him. Not that she was heavy, no, he was an idiot, but he knew two things never to comment on, one being the age of the woman or her weight, not if didn’t want to be eviscerated where he stood.. Lay, whatever.
This was the second time he had found himself on his back with her next to him, and Ruth wondered if this was some twisted game or the universe was laughing at him.
What? And conform? Doubtful. He’d scoff, hands shifting the shades back over his eyes with a delicate flick of his index. Deny the world of their Ruthmillion? Pfft. I don’t make promises I won’t keep. Yes he did. Ruth constantly pushed against the grain of acceptability, though their… relationship was becoming uncanny, comfortable, though Ruth didn’t understand why which gave rise to his rebellious behaviour. He kept his grin even, casting her a sideward look as she mentioned kissing his bruises. Uhuh.
Ruth sat up looking at the pile of netting and pulleys, his grin widening when she tried to match his teasing. It was adorable how flushed she became when attempting to go toe to toe with him, causing the elf to chuckle, brow arching. How’d you know? I could be subtle,maybe, no… not with her, But then you’d miss my cheek, and we all know it’s my mouth that gets you all riled up. He needed to stand, adjust himself and do the thing he came to do.
Slowly he pulled himself up to stand, offering her a hand while she asked the reason for his visit. Besides coming for the Ruthmillion fix? he’d snicker, shaking his head after a moment. Got an invite for you from Nairn. He wants you at his wedding to the Stoner, he’d roll a shoulder while looking for the envelope in his robes. Guess the fool is worried he might choke on the vows or something, and as funny as that would be, I don’t fancy dealing with that and a distraught bride on my own.
See, you don't know how to ask for me to actually follow through with it, so you'll never know. She closed her eyes when she realized he was going to try and make her as red as possible, but she was going to try, for once, to not let him have his way, at least, not like this. You cheek hmm? Well, I would get riled up by your mouth if you knew where to use it properly. She took the hand offered and got to her feet too, a few inches shorter than he, but still tall, very tall, for a dwarf. She listened as she watched him dig in his robes. To the wedding? I suppose that would be a thing. After all if something.. yes that, if something funny happens, it makes sense to be safe rather than sorry. Even if he thought you and his new wife were able to keep him alive long enough to get back here to me, it's no skin off his nose to give an extra invite for peace of mind.
She flicked her eyes away as he opened his robes to look, realizing that he wasn't going to just, glance over her words, that she was going to be redder than not the moment those registered properly, like they were, for her, right now. She couldn't believe she said it, and she wanted the porch to open wide and swallow her down to the earth below. She couldn't help it, she always said something to him that could be taken in a way.. IN A WAY. Well, I don't think it'll be a problem, but yeah, they're both your friends aren't they, you'd be in a tight spot. I'll make a couple more spare parts from the hallow you brought just in case, and pack up my travel forge. It's not.. great. But it fits in a cart and can come with just to give the groom that peace.
And using her travel forge would give her a chance to finally figure out where in the main furnace she had sprung a leak and get that fixed too. A perfect plan. I think though, from what I know of Megara from you, it wouldn't be distraught, it'd be.. It'd be heart breaking, yes, but she figured it would be an explosion of some sort first. Those two always seemed to be in some sort of disaster. Much like her and Ruth, now that she thought about it, but that thought didn't stick around long. Don't worry, I'll be there to help, in case something goes wrong. And besides, the money Nairn pays me as retainer, I can close shop for a week and not feel the pinch to my pocket book. Maybe I'll even find someone to have a dance or two with.
Not that she was known to dance that often -- but at weddings there was dancing, wasn't there?
He ignored her first comment, gaze fixing to stare through the tinted lenses up into the skyline. Ruth knew how. He’d done it before, not to Dora, but he had asked Nell before and what had it done? Left him worse, proving his point right that no-one was to be relied upon. He was Mr Fuck’emandleave’em. He didn’t settle.
She was trying so damn hard, but as she tried to Ruth couldn’t help tilt his chin downwards, eye peering over the shades. Dora you wound me, a palm pressing itself across his chest, feigning hurt if it weren't for that shit eating grin. The less he said the better he felt, biting back from bragging about gaining regular applause for how his mouth played Willie like a fucking fiddle. It was poor form to gloat about the little minx.
Where else? he asked, brows knitting together briefly. Who else was inviting her somewhere? New wife? Ha! Those two have been basically married from day one. Nairn just moves at a snail pace while Megara’s too in love with him to care. He found a rolled cigarette first, placing it between his lips before reaching inside again to search for the fancy envelope.
I don’t think it’ll be an issue, Nairn’s just freaking out, but this day is gonna be a stretch for him. He don’t do crowds. Doesn’t do public affection. I reckon the ceremony will be light on bodies, but the party is a different story. Pulling a face he eventually produced the green invitation, hand painted leaves framed around her carefully written name. I met Nairn first, but I’ve known the Stoner longer given his “death”. She’s scarier than he is and add in Sylaise and I don’t favour my chances alone. He could cope with one or the other, but when both raged as a united front no witty word of his was going to calm her.
After she’d taken the paper from him Ruth’s hands returned to his pockets. I think you can leave the forge behind. It’s not some backwater rat dwelling we’re going to, it’s Arlathan. They have forges there… unless of course she blows us all to hell then it won’t matter at all. He laughed nervously because if there was one person who made a valid attempt at keeping him in line, who’d stuck with him and put up with his antics it was the Stoner.
Good. And ooooh, dancing? He chuckled, hands gesturing limply before shaking his head a little. I will be doing my part, showing face and then letting my demons run wild and filthy. Probably with Willie if she says she'll come. He’d already decided on inviting the whore, what better way to distract him from all the nauseating candyfloss of feelings flying around.
Theo shook her head and smiled widely as he mocked his incredulousness at her words, let him play, she thought, the grin worth it all, even if there was more there that she could tell he wasn't saying -- she liked to think she really was coming to know him finally, maybe. Sometimes, like the times he stared off like that, she wondered if she would ever really know him at all. Ach, you never know, I could get invited somewhere fancy by a friend. I do have some of those, they're just off doing stuff like.. traveling.
Garryn was traveling after all, and he was a friend, in a fashion. A king.. but still a friend. But she accepted the fancy envelope when he handed it over, her fingers lingering on his just a moment too long, the digits sliding over his, before her fingers gently touched her name written properly on the lovely green. Sounds like they have a good grasp on one another and this is just the formality of it all then. But weddings are so good Ruth, they always make me cry when the groom sees the bride the first time. They always look so happy, well, when it's not the father standing there with a dagger to a kidney, then they usually look pretty miserable, but I've not been to one like that for a while now.
It's not a matter of them not having a forge there, it's a matter if I need to spot forge something quickly, I won't be having time to run to a blacksmith and run back, better to have my trusted tools right there, and ready to go to give Nairn peace of mind. She thought about it a moment, giving him a light, good natured push on his arm when he made fun of her for wanting to dance, chuckling some. Careful I may come hunting you down for one, she teased gently before he mentioned Mina, nodding as she did. She didn't know why that stung so much, so suddenly, and she wasn't about to go examining that feeling any time soon, so she cataloged it away for a time when she was drunk, and sad to figure out, and then shrugged at him. Mina was good at what she did, but, You know I never thought of it, but that's a woman we both know the taste of. She laughed then, fully -- she never thought they'd ever share such a thing in common as the same person. Ahh, I hope she can come, she ain't never been too terribly far away from that bar she's at with her Daddy, maybe I'll steal her from you for a dance or two while you find your drinks.
She wished he didn't have to hide in the drink so much -- she had seen him drunk too many times, but didn't feel it was her place to say something -- yet. Once she knew him just a little bit better, well.. then he was in for a piece or three of her mind when he got too far gone in those cups.
He didn’t understand why, but it bothered him that she'd go off with others. Then Ruth would catch himself, shrugging it off since it wasn’t anything to do with him, her business was her own and like she didn’t have a say in his, Ruth didn’t have a right to hers. Still, How fancy we talkin’?
Again, he pretended to either not notice or ignore the lingering contact. His head had enough imagery to work with, imagination attempting to run with it, but she was talking again, offering distraction. Ruth scoffed, head jostling. Meg’s had him whipped since the day she arrived in the C. And Weddings are fun, sure. Plenty of drink and skirts to chase make it somewhat bearable. Behind the shades he’d roll his eyes at the candyfest of sunshine and rainbows, even if it was for two people who deserved it.
While Ruth could appreciate her attention to detail the elf sighed, unwilling to argue with her over the forge. Fine, but you best check in with Megara over where to put it… I dunno which forest clearing it’ll be in, but she’d be the one to organise where you can have it waiting in the wings. Nothing was going to go wrong. Not for the bride and groom anyway, he’d make sure of it.
Is that before or after I step on you or your toes? slipped out before he could stop himself, teeth flashing despite the image that particular nugget conjured, thank you for that. His mouth opened to say something… and then thought better of it when it came to taste. He wasn’t one to kiss and say what went on between he and Mina, not unless the lass was around and in on the banter. He didn’t share shit about what went on between the rounds of rutting and rolling. Those quiet moments.
Pfft. You’d have competition. I know the minute she’s left on her own that Coterie whelp will swoop right in. Ruth’s grin tightened at the thought, maybe he’d get Nairn to shift him to somewhere like the kitchens… maybe, but it would be moot if he didn’t ask her first.
Oh, aye, fancy and fancier, certainly not the bathhouse of the closest tavern. She teased him, a small smile spreading across her face, as she caught that, but she let it lie after she gave him a small nudge. I'm sure everyone at the wedding will have a lovely time, and you know it, you probably will too, even if you're not chasing skirts and drinking until you're fall over drunk. I may have to have a couple drinks myself, provided you don't try and lace them with spider venom. She did get her nicknames honestly, after all. Not that I think you would, but damn would it be funny once I wasn't mad anymore. She chuckled, because she knew herself well enough that she would be mad at first, before she found the whole thing hilarious. She looked back on that day, finding it hilarious in hind-sight. Just how she was certain she would look back on today and find all the humor in it, once she was a little further removed from all it.
She nodded, and understood. A letter over to Meg would be in order -- she'd send for Danny to make sure it made it up there properly, so that the woman knew she was going to be bringing the traveling forge. It would be covered, in a nice cart, no one would really know what it was unless she needed it. And, it would double as her bedroom for the evening if she found no where better to stay the night. There was the possibility she found a nice bed to wind up in, before it was all said and done. So wear my working boots, with the toes covered by the plate, instead of my nice dress up shoes, is what you're saying, huh? Wait. Do you not know how to dance? Ruth, you're gonna be part of the wedding aren't ya, you need to know how to dance at least a simple dance.. I've never been to a wedding where there ain't dancing. She scratched the back of her head, watching that face he made. I can teach ya. She offered suddenly. And I'll wear my boots do you don't mangle me before the day can arrive.
Theo raised a brow at the mention of someone else in the same breath as Mina, that would make sense as to why the woman had said she was slowly no longer seeing clients. Hell, the last time Theo had been over at the Backwater, she and Mina had been wrapped around one another for a few hours, before the elf had told her. Last time. Well, I guess he's gonna have a fight on his hands for my to get my dance in then. She chuckled some. And as much as I would love to pick your brain some more about that, I don't think either of us are too keen to think about it. Though you point him out and I'll cut him down at the knee caps?
