Dust Motes

He was too busy thinking that around the next corner another trap lay waiting. Years had passed when the first had occurred, enough time to pass for them to think he’d lower his guard. These were all thoughts of a paranoid mind perhaps, but Ruth had cause, returning to their clan would be a death sentence, not of mortal flesh but certainly of spirit. His temper, the white hot rage Ruth had for his father would bubble over and the result would be the same. A great deal of shouting and the high chance of violence. The outcome of which, even he was uncertain of, but the healer would try his best.

Unaware that the woman’s own limit had been reached, he blinked as it boiled over. Eyes followed her return along the corridor, making no moves to trail after her. She was not his responsibility anymore, why should he? Though apparently she wasn’t done entertaining his words or attitude.

The first question had him scoffing with a breath. Of course people mattered, just some were fucking ignorant and stupid and the universe in it’s infinite wisdom allowed them to continue and worse, populate Thedas with even more of their kind. They were also the ones he could charge a fortune for simple healing, so in some cases he lucked out. But then she harked on again about their “child,” and, wait..

“He.. what?,” after a moment, his head would shake. Disbelief that she could be so foolish. “What the hell, Nell? Why the fuck would you trust a wor-.” Was she insane? Removing the cigarette from his mouth, he’d gesture, anger coiling up his back. “You knew what he was like before? Did that fact not enter into your pretty little plan, if you failed?”

But she was trying to flee now. “Oooh no, not so fast.” If this was a set up, he was going to put it down right now. “You’re here now, might as well see it through.” Making the few steps towards her, Ruth took her wrist, tugging her gently back along the way they’d come. He’d suppress the sparks that tingled up along his arm by touching her, taking a deep drag and then discarding the remains underfoot. “You don’t just get to waltz back in, drop your bomb and then bolt when I get snippy.”

Suspicion was still etched across his face as he’d half dragged her towards Al’Thor’s office. “You can’t blame me, for what you did. I never fucking lied. Not about anything so fucking basic.” Reaching the door, he’d knock, but knowing the old geezer would take an age to answer he remained where he was, watching her. “You had plenty time and opportunity to tell me but didn’t.”