Garryn stood quietly, the soft weight of the baby griffon pressing against his leg as it nuzzled into him for warmth. The others were gone now, their part of the journey over, leaving just him and Dora—exactly how he preferred it, since he hadn’t known anyone else that had come on the journey to find Griffons. It felt strange now, the silence after so much action, the weight of the baby griffons adding a new layer of responsibility neither of them had quite anticipated.
He glanced over at Dora, watching her adjust something or other, he was too lost in thought to notice exactly what. She moved with the same confident precision she always did, but Garryn knew that underneath it, there was probably as much uncertainty in her as there was in him. Especially now. He’d been putting off this conversation the entire journey back. So much had changed in the last month. But now, with the camp set up and nothing but the open road ahead of them, he couldn’t avoid it any longer.
The baby griffon chirped softly, sensing his hesitation, and Garryn sighed. He crouched down, giving the little creature a soft pat, letting the warmth of its tiny form settle his nerves.
He needed to tell her. She deserved to know the truth before they went any further.
Dora, he called softly, standing up again, his eyes catching hers across the campfire. We need to talk.
Dora's griffon, Dumil she had named him, was curled up in a sling across her back as he slept from the last part of their day. She had taken to carrying the animal when he got tried and trailed behind, and it had become custom for her to do so the past few days, the small cubs could only walk so much of the day as they rode the old mare, so it was easier for her to use the sling when Dumil got too tired. Her bed roll was opened, and she had just gotten done slipping her boots off and washing her hands, the back of her neck, and face from a wooden bowl of cool water, that she dumped off to the side and then refilled before handing over to him for the same. She longed to get back to her cottage, to her copper tub with the heated water cistern she had made for her house, oh, everything was better when one could bath in hot water every night.
As they had set up camp, she had put a pot on to cook over the campfire, meat and a starchy root vegetable in a thin broth, they'd run out of flour to thicken the pot a few days back. In truth, they'd need to scavenge some roots over the next part of their trip to not run out of things, unless they got close to a city within the next few days. It wasn't always glamorous camping out in the middle of no where, but she just didn't like to travel by Eluvians -- something about them made her cagey. When he had finally broken the comfortable silence between them, she had been busy dipping the soup out of the pot, and handing over a bowl with a bit of hard-tack bread in the process. She raised a brow as he stood, head tilted to the side some.
Oh? Is there something on your mind then, 'Ryn? Truth be told, she had seen him start to try and tell her something as soon as they had hit the road with their new charges in tow, but she never pressed it. Sometimes a man needed to know his own mind before he could share it with someone else, and this was something Dora knew and accepted easily enough. About? Do I have something on my face? She tried to lighten up his serious expression a little, with an easy smile.
Garryn took the bowl she handed him, though he barely noticed the warmth of the soup or the satisfying weight of the bread. Her easy smile and the gentle teasing helped ease some of the tension knotted in his chest, but not enough to keep his gaze from dropping to the fire, watching the flames dance for a moment before he finally spoke.
Not on your face, no, he said, the corner of his mouth twitching into a faint, almost reluctant smile. You always look like you’ve got everything under control, Dora. Probably why this feels so… odd. Saying this, I mean. You’ve always known me as someone with a plan. Someone who knew where he was going.
He sat down across from her, setting the bowl carefully beside him. The baby griffon at his side chirped again and settled into his lap, its small, feathered body a comfort as he stroked its downy neck.
But the truth is… I’ve gone and done something a bit mad. He looked up at her, his green eyes warm but tinged with uncertainty. I’ve abdicated the throne. And before you say anything, he raised a hand, preempting the shock or questions he expected to follow, it wasn’t a hasty decision. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time now. I’ve also stepped down as Lord Chancellor of Tantervale.
The weight of the words hung between them, and for a moment, he simply let them settle, his hand still idly stroking the baby griffon.
I’ve spent so much of my life doing what was expected of me, Dora. Serving a throne that never quite felt like my own. Being the face of a city that, as much as I tried, never really felt like home. It wasn’t bad, not all of it, anyway. But it wasn’t… me. And after everything that happened with the griffons, everything we’ve seen, I realized it’s time to let someone else take over. Someone who actually wants to lead, who thrives in it. I don’t.
He leaned forward, his expression softening further, though the seriousness in his tone remained.
It’s not a bad thing, truly. I feel lighter, like I can finally just… live. But it does leave me in a bit of a pickle, considering I don’t exactly have a place to call home at the moment. Guess I’m a bit of a wanderer now.
Abdicated the throne, and Not a hasty decision had Dora's mouth twitching a little, suspicions confirmed as she picked at her own bowl as he talked, chewing slowly and thoughtfully, so as not to let any of his soft words be missed by her ears, and when the man finally fell quiet, she chuckled, lifting her mug of ale and taking a long swig followed by a satisfied sound. She let the moment stretch on a little bit, as she put her thoughts together. The man, who she'd figured out, some time as they had been running for their lives, her barefoot and bound, and him just along for the run, and she'd let him have that privacy for their entire adventure getting their new charges, the sleepy griffons making welcome companions to their travels.
Homeless? That she could do something about. Well, yer highness, Dora teased, a mischievous glint in her eye as the grin spread further across her face, About time you fessed up, I thought I would be old and achy before you finally got around to telling me that. Don't expect me to act any different, you were 'Ryn before, and you're 'Ryn now, to me at least. And as for a home.. Dora took another bite of her stew, before she made her decision. Mine is yours, for now, if you want a place to be. It's small and we might get on one another's nerves here and there, but unless you're going back to one of the thaigs, findin a girl, and settling down here any time soon, you'll need somewhere you can at least leave things that you know they'll be there when you come back. And, She trailed off, thinking back to her mom and dad.
I need some help at the forge now and then that could use a man's strength. I'm strong, don't you dare say I'm not I will thump you good if you do, but, I got a project coming up that I will need help with and I don't trust just any old one to see what I'm doing. You know what's sacred to us, what shouldn't exactly be shared outside of us. But, if you're gonna insist on being wandering, All teases, from her, Garryn had quickly turned into somewhat of a great friend, and maybe, even she could see one day, a younger brother. Easy to tease, easy to want to take care of, easy to want to throttle when he put himself in danger in a fight. If this is what you truly want in your life Garryn, then I'm with you.
