A Troubled Wake-up

He pulled himself sitting in his bed, the lingering headache remembering him he didn't sleep too well, if not at all, last night. As if he needed a reminder. He shook his head, as if trying to get that headache off himself, then looked about the room. The feeble dusk light illuminated it enough to allow him to see that most of the guards were still sleeping. Those that weren't, were probably still on duty or preparing for it. Pallaetes groaned at the thought, rubbing his face with both hands and trying to get himself completely awake. He set himself sitting on the side of his bed, stretching his arms and legs before standing and heading to a window to peer outside. The sky was clear, not a single cloud to be seen.
Well, at least the weather is doing better than my head...
He snickered at himself in annoyance, and as he went to wear his clothes on, thoughts raced into his mind.

What the hell is wrong with you?! Yes, alright, you know what it is, but why? As if it is the first time you take a liking on a girl, you spineless prick!
It wasn't the first time. Than why should it have been any different, he couldn't tell. Or perhaps, he just didn't want to admit it to himself.
He had always detested overchatty people. She even almost made him fall off his horse, the first time he had heard her voice through the crystal. And yet he couldn't bring himself to feel annoyed at her usual stream of words. In fact, he felt quite the opposite, growing even concerned when she kept silent for too long. What, was he charmed by her? It felt stupid. He just knew her since...what was it, a week? He felt like something was not right with himself, as if he suddenly noticed a hole, a breach in his armour leaving a weak spot open to be hit, exploited. And he didn't like that sensation. And why should he even care about it now? Didn't Sarxas propose her? Sure, that highwaymen ambush did not allow him to understand much, if nothing at all, of what followed, but would have it changed anything? Perhaps it was just better this way. Perhaps. But no, he knew too well he was just trying to find a rational explanation to put his mind at ease.

Pallaetes grunted at himself. "Why can't it be as easy as making up a battle plan?!"
One of the guards peered up at him, frowning, clearly annoyed at his sudden, loud outburst. Pallaetes pretended he just didn't notice it. He shook his head and he wore off his shirt again, then he picked up his sword and made his way outisde, towards the training circle.
Once there, he pinned the sword to the ground by the now armoured straw man and took a deep breath, feeling the fresh breeze of the early morning on his face and bare chest. He relaxed, keeping his eyes closed and starting to focus as Leoric teached him.
He needed an escape from his thoughts, he wanted to keep his mind focused on something else for some time. And the Phoenix forms and swordplay practice were just what he needed.
That was definitely going to be a long training morning.


<TAG: Ashalanta, Bjornia, Devan, Agrikaan, Leoric, Deryn>

Devan woke up with a start. How long had he been dozing? The chill wind around him still rippled his hair, and he shifted. Only to let out a long groan. There was solid rock underneath him, separated from his naked body only by a blanket that had been somehow doubled over and swept over him to cover his form. Something itched at his back, and he couldn't reach to scratch. As he shifted more, reached for the spot with a wince, a tiny bread crumb fell out, and the itch stopped.

He sat up straight. By some instinct, he shook the blanket free of more crumbs before he swept it around his naked form. Below him stretched the Thunder Keep grounds. Small figures of workers carrying equipment and food stuffs to and from the temple complex directly below him.

Stumbling, he made his way down the rocky slopes. Clothed and as proper looking as he could, he casually let his eyes wander across the lower outcroppings, searching for the object he knew should have landed there somewhere. None of the other things remained. And to his amusement, the mug was gone too.

Did she find it?

He could still see her eyes if he closed his. She had showed him herself, as she truly was. A moment rare as a blossoming flower in the icy slopes of her homeland? A flickering, treasured moment of vulnerable honesty before it was back to the daily business? Or would he see her like this more often now?

She had asked him about how he felt. He had told her. And now he wracked his brain.. had he asked her back? He wasn't sure if he had, as memory of the conversation clouded and swirled in his newly woken mind, but he was sure of one thing. He knew how she felt, and she had not needed words to tell him. And the worries he had harboured all fell flat, melted away, just like the winter's grip of Poitain was starting to do.

With these thoughts in his mind, Devan wore a rather peculiar smile as he crossed the keep grounds and the barrack practice yards. Spotting a lone figure there, swinging at the plated dummies, the Zingaran approached.

"Pall, mate! How's the swooorrd-arm today?"

<TAG: Anyone >

The Temple's High Priestess could not quite understand the Guard Captain's exuberance that morning, as she'd seemed to just appear out of nowhere with a wide grin on her face, carrying the most strangest of objects in her hands; a single mug. She'd arched a brow as the little Cimmerian woman, devoid of her grumpy early morning growling, walked with a little skip in her step to fetch a basket and trowel. Then she'd stopped, looked down at the little tin mug, and gave the most girlish little giggle before setting it aside. But the Priestess didn't dare pry into the business of the loud shaman. Merely, she offered a warm smile as the rude Cimmerian passed by, to receive a nod and a cheeky little grin in return. So peculiar indeed!

The winter sun was starting to warm the horizon in tangerine hues by which time, little bear had gathered enough fresh herbs and tended to weeds and snail-bitten leaves around the herb garden. Pesky things; she'd put salt down but there was always one who managed to nibble on her precious plants. She made an irritated little grunt, but such was the way of nature and so, who was she to disturb that balance? Wiping the back of her hand across a lightly dampened forehead and leaving a streak of fresh mud in its place, she rested her hands on her hips a moment, and breathed a little sigh. There was an odd twitch in the corner of her nose; it had started since she'd abruptly woken up with a jagged rock poking her hip, and now it was itching again. She wrinkled said nose, scratched, rubbed sniffed and scrunched her face up, but to no avail. Alas, it was a sign. It was just going to be 'one of those days.'

Without really realising, she started to hum a little Zingaran tune she'd heard Devan sing a few times, as she finally left the herb garden. The words she had not yet grasped yet, but it had a funny little melody, strange and foreign compared to her northern little ditties. Swinging the herb basket in tune to the humming, she strolled down the unlaid path with muddy boots and a clumsily fastened jerkin of suede and soft rabbit furs. Only pausing briefly at the library, to sneak a peek through the slightly ajar door to see two scholars already studying, wrapped in thick furs with burnt down candles still glowing brightly. With a little snicker to their bookish 'stay-awake-all-night' ways, she carried on, until figures at the barracks already came into view. Yes, this was indeed what she liked to see! Training at the break of dawn, like true, disciplined warriors should be. Only, as she came closer, she realised they were not the two 'warriors' she had quite expected to see. Pausing a moment, with a flush already finding her lightly freckle dusted cheeks, she hoisted the herb basket further on her arm, and after a deep breath, took brisk steps forwards. Pale blue eyes switching from one target to the next, back and forth, but she did not stop in her tracks. Instead, a brief and approving nod was offered to Pallaetes, followed by a mischievously little lop-sided smirk to the fire rat. And that was all, as she hastilly disappeared, for now, through to the barracks.

<TAG: Whoever >

Deryn pulled the furs slightly closer around himself in the chill of the library, his eyes weary from peering at the complex runes and scripts that still eluded his grasp, like slippery fish dancing in a river, distorted by the water above as he dove his hands to where he thought they were, only to clutch on nothing, or the brief flick of a fin of understanding, quickly gone.

He looked up at the dying stub of the candle. How long had he been working? Too long as usual came the answer without even a prompt.

He sighed and stretched, shivering as a layer of fur fell away to the cold library floor, bundled up too much to risk bending to pick it without revealing more of his skin to the biting cold. Take this cursed northern weather and this inconvenient and bitter winter. How was a scribe supposed to work under such conditions.

He shivered again then looked to his right, to the second bundle of furs, less dense than his, really only a thin covering to keep up appearances. Her pale blonde hair fell in strands over her face, delicate and pale as the moon, regular breaths as she slept next to him, unwilling to leave his side in the Keep even while he worked. He could have told her to stay back in his rooms but that would have meant locking her away for the whole day, having the fear that maybe she'd be discovered and the unknowing of what would happen then, the words of his thieving little friend ringing in his ears still, dungeons and disgrace. Also of course it would mean he'd have to return to her before the sun set, no late night workings as now, no squinting in the candle light, too cold to get up and fetch a new tallow, no blinking and looking out the door to realize a new day was dawning.

Speaking of which...

He turned and blinked, the lines on his youthful face scrunching in the rays of first sun coming in the door, catching a glimpse of someone passing and a snatch of hummed song. He sighed as he turned back, stretching again and reluctantly removing a layer of furs, then another, till he could at least stand, cupping the candle and blowing it out, closing the slippery salmon book and looking down at his companion, reaching to stroke her hair back.

She didn't wake, instead just shifting in her chair, letting out a grunt. He smiled and quickly pulled a scrap of parchment to his quill, sketching a couple of aesir runes on it for when she woke and worried, as she would if he wasn't there to comfort her. Leaving it in front of her on the desk he turned, sighing and pulling the furs around him more, stepping out of the library and into the keep grounds to fetch some breakfast for them both.

<tag: anyone! >

Forward thrust, parry, pirouette, upward-right slash, ready stance, downward-left slash.
Pallaetes' mind was running through all the moves almost mechanically, making his movements look like a constant flow, almost a dance. He had perfected and changed his swordplay, during these four years, incorporating moves and other useful tricks one is not teached during military training. He came up with quite his own unique style, in the end.

It felt good. No pressing thoughts. His mind focused solely on his sword, his muscles and the target. The target. Bjornia was right, that spared piece of armour was doing the job. At least he didn't have to worry about cutting the straw man in half anymore.

He was mid move when Devan's voice broke his concentration. He rolled his eyes before turning to face the Zingaran, breathing a bit heavily from the restless practice. Devan was a good friend, but he always had that attitude of being loud on purpose when he knew he shouldn't in the first place...Still, Pallaetes couldn't bring himself to be annoyed at him.
He smirked, noticing the Zingaran was wrapped up in a blanket, clearly naked underneath, judgning by how he pulled it close around himself. Pallaetes bringed his sword to rest on his right shoulder, apparently oblivious to the touch of the cold metal on his bare skin.
"It's doing as good as always, thank you." He tilted his head slightly to one side, a teasing smirk spreading on his face as he continued "Spent an interesting night, I see. Or have you finally found someone skilled enough to wrap your clothes off yourself during your sleep?"
He merely finished to speak when Bjornia passed by, not even stopping to say a word. Pallaetes nodded back at her, smiling lightly, then raised an eyebrow for a moment as he noticed the smirk she shot at Devan. He kept following her with his gaze for a few moments as she disappeared through the barracks. As he turned back to his Zingaran friend, he smirked at him knowingly.
"Well now, seems I missed something during my absence, haven't I?"

As he looked at Devan, waiting for a reply, he found himself suddenly thinking back at the Shemite girl. He couldn't help but frown slightly at himself, hoping his friend wouldn't have noticed.



<TAG: anyone >

Meeting Bjornia's look with a choked laugh, Devan really struggled to keep his mouth shut as she simply left the scene with her little basket. His eyes remained for her for a much longer time than was appropriate for anyone to oogle a captain of the guards. Finally he turned towards Pallaetes.

The Aquilonian soldier was something of an enigma to Devan. So disciplined and strict, correct and to the point. And yet he sported a silly little beard that just HAD to be there for the girls to pull! Barely stopping himself from grinning even more at that thought, he drew his hand over his face and controlled it. Putting on a serious expression, completely mismatching the rediculously wrapped blanket around his form, he blinked his brown eyes at the man.

"Eh.. missed? Ye mean about me and the Captain?"

Of course, he couldn't help shooting another quick look in the direction of the barracks before raising an eyebrow at Pallaetes once more. Misinterpreting his sudden frown, he quickly as a snake flicked his hand and brushed off another crumb from his blanket. A careful and rarely genuine little smile spread on his face, causing is cheeks to curve upwards.

<TAG: Everyone! >

So this was it, Aargus could see the structure appearing over the landscape as he strode onwards. He was going to wait and come here with his horse when he was re-united with it. Currently stabled in Old Tarantia nursing a wounded hind leg. He couldnt have taken her this distance in that condition. But, he couldn't wait any longer. His pace quickened.

Minutes later he arrived at the tall gates. The walls on either side wrapped left and right bending out of site. Aargus just stood there with a grin on his face. "Oh my Leoric, you done it old friend, you really done it". Two guards at the front gate greeted Aargus and allowed him to enter, stepping through Aargus was instantly met by a wave of activity. For a moment it actually took his breath away.

Aargus has not been to Thunder Keep in over a year. When he was here last it was mearly the main keep and the temple with work starting on the trading point. Now, though there were people everywhere. Women and children stood talking, guards patrolled the grounds, the barracks was in full use with soldiers training, the trading post was in full swing, a hive of activity, a dog chased a cat. It was everything.

"Wow" Aargus said aloud. He stood motionless for a moment taking it all in, possibily not aware of the broad smile across his face. Again he announed "You really done it".

It was at this moment that Aargus' expression changed, a serious look flashed across him. He began to walk forward, the walk turned into a jog and then into a sprint. He ignored all of those around him. The guards at the next gate alerted by this unusual moment stopped Aargus in his tracks by the inner gates. Aargus could only say "The Keep itself, I must see the keep itself".

Aargus remembered, that day when he and the Templari blessed the building with their various Gods. The Keep itself had just been complete. They had arranged food and wine, and real celebration to that momentus day. On the lower floor they had all in turn blessed the walls and prayed for their Gods' strength. But, this was more than just a fond memory for Aargus. This would be the last standing place that connected him to his former self. The Shaman he was to the simple man he now is. In a way, Aargus thought that the spirit of his former self would walk among the walls of the Keep. It held a particular strength and he needed to feel it.

As he has stood there, the Guards had been discussing his presence with someone, Aargus assumed that perhaps they had a crystal and had contacted one of the Templari. Either way, he was allowed access with a suspicious glare.

There is stood, it seemed brighter than he remembered but in all its glory the keep loomed in front of him with its open welcoming front. He walked slowly to it. Again he ignored the other people that walked by. Some may have even spoke either to him or near him. Aargus blanked them out and approached the main building. He hesitated at the front step. Aware that his heart was now beating faster and yet rather than a sense of excitement he felt only calm. He walked into the building and let his hand drag softly around the tall pillars.

"This was it, this was the place". He mind raced back to that day and he stood watching himself. Everyone was there, Kutaman, Leoric, Brann, Aspa, Scorchaa, Anya and all the others. Smiling again he walked through the figures that stood there in his memory and approached the stairs. Ascending he began to first feel and then hear it. The higher he went the more obvious it became. Arguss knew where this short journey would end. On the very roof. The place that they had all sat and drank wine. Soaking in the atmosphere as the thunderous river roared past in all its power. That was the sound he could now hear. As he reached the open air he could feel the rivers power where it had ran, ignoring all that happened around it. The wind cooled Aargus' face and the warm mid day sun caused him to close his eyes momentarily.

He simply sat. He sat down cross legged and again the grin flashed across his face.

"I'm home" Was all he could say and he closed his eyes and just sat there soaking it all in.

<TAG: Anyone!>

"Aye, about you and the C-..and Bjornia." He smirked teasingly at Devan as he continued "Don't tell me she makes you address her as 'Captain' even in private!" The smirk slowly turned into a grin at the thought, and he purposefully did nothing to control it.

Pallaetes turned to the dummy once again, starting to sweep his sword at it once more. The moves still clear, although executed in a visibly more bland way than before.

So that was it. The fiery tempered Cimmerian found someone, and that being Devan, of all people! It all had something amusing about it, but it also made Pallaetes feel a sudden warmth in himself. Yes, he was happy for both of them.
He smiled briefly at the thought, but assumed a serious expression again soon, as his mind wandered on his own feelings. He stopped his moves again and turned to face Devan once more, pinning his greatsword on the ground and leaning on the hilt pommel with his right forearm.
Knowing the Zingaran pirate, this would likely end up in a useless discussion. Still, Pallaetes felt he couldn't keep it in himself anymore. He only hoped his friend could take something seriously, for once.

"I know I'm risking to regret this but..well, I don't know what to do about it." He sighed deeply, as if helping the words come out of his mouth. "I think I've come to like Asha, Devan. Well..maybe, I don't know..its all..confused, I..I feel lost."
If he could have seen his own face, Pallaetes would surely not have liked the awkward expression it was now on it. And he also suddenly realised he hadn't been this open about himself with someone in what seemed ages, though in truth, only a few years had passed.




<TAG: Anyone>

Devan smirked amusedly at Pallaetes’s humouring and blatant curiousity. He had never thought he’d ever be able to like a soldado, but this guy was alright. And yet, it was a difficult thing to think of soldiers and guardsmen having their lives and feelings. They had always been the ‘enemy’, the opposite side. The fools you had to trick.

While Devan had never killed a guardsman (yeh amigo, that one time won’t count it was me or them!), he had hurt a few on different occations. Escaping the law. Pallaetes seemed like someone who might have been chasing him down in the name of justice, had the time and place been different.

And yet, Devan liked this guy. He had something about him that seemed right. Perhaps then it came as no surprise when he had noticed him and Ashalanta spending more time together, whispering things and having that strange glow when they were near eachother.

(Do I glow like that with the little shaman? Hmph, I better not!)

As Pallaetes turned to face him again, Devan raised an eyebrow. What was the man up to now? He looked all squirmish and awkward. Leaning in as if telling something in confidence. The Zingaran was no stranger to discretion and so, taking a step closer, his face remained serious as he listened to the man’s stumbling confession. His reply was given in a hushed tone.

"It’s pretty bleedin’ obvious mate. Don’t ye think the rest of us noticed?" He threw a quick glance to each side, before continuing. "She’s a good girl, Pallaetes. And the warm wind blows both ways, I think, eh? So what’s the problem, friend?"

<TAG: Anyone>

The Thieves guild was her home a little room in the attic nothing grand, but cosy and private, she still didnt quite understand why the guild had decided to adopt her and make her welcome, although they were impressed by her ability to hide and blend in and had been astonished when she had "borrowed" one of thier jeweled daggers for a practice session, but they were a nice bunch, not to look at for the most part but honest and forthright if such could be said of thieves.

It was not the usual soft cooing of the doves that favoured the little flat roof above her window that awoke her. She listened still half asleep aware that something had disturbed her slumber but not anything to give rise to alarm.
There,.. a metallic clang faint but audible, like fighting maybe but without the urgancy one would normally associate with such activity. As if they had been offended at being pipped to the post of awakening Asha, the doves began thier soothing cooing, masking out the metallic clangs and bangs.
Wide awake now she wonderd about the noise it sounded as though it was coming from the barracks area, surely no one was practicing at this early hour, even Bjornia usually gave the garrison time to break its fast before the daily routine of training and other soldier like duties.

She was curious now and slipped out of bed and threw on her off duty clothes, the long loin cloth which freed the legs for thier full movement, a reminder of her homeland, and a loose fitting blouson jacket and slipped on a pair of light leather praire boots. She didnt actually have any duties as such neither a soldier nor scholar, she was a free spirit lending a hand here or there, fetching, delivering, whatever took her fancy for the day and whoever need a hand the most, but still these were her off duty clothes. She finished dressing and hurried down the wooden stairs , treading carefully so as not to wake the guilds other residents.

"Morning Asha, yer up an about early" this from Merrin the guilds cook who was fussing over a huge couldron of what looked like stew, maybe for dinner.

"something woke me thought i'd go take a peek, it might be interesting" she stopped in her tracks "or maybe it wont and im just wasting my time" another pause "but then it is a nice morning think i'll go look anyhow" smiling at Merrin she continued toward the heavy oak door.

She slipped out into the morning air, cool but with a hint of the warmth from a rising sun just breaking over the east walls and bathing the outer grounds in sunlight. It was one of those morning's that made you feel good to be alive.
A smile on her face she began walking over to the barrack's area and the mysterious clanging , which she now realised had stopped.

<TAG anyone>

Pallaetes blinked at Devan's words. "That obvious?" He sighed, casting his gaze downwards for a moment before looking up at the Zingaran again.
"The problem...apart for the fact that I barely know her..ahhh, you bloody should know what the problem is, you were on the crystals as well when Sarxas proposed her."
He now set himself straight, revese gripping the hilt of his greatsword with his right hand, as if trying to gain some strenght he might have lacked from it.
"Good thing those highwaymen assaulted me, I guess. I coudn't focus on the crystal and pretty much lost whatever you all were saying there. For the better perhaps."

Then he suddenly moved. Performing a pirouette towards the opposite side of where Devan was standing, Pallaetes slashed at the dummy, still gripping the sword only with his right hand and on the reverse. He then used the weapon momentum to consequently slash downward-left, bringing his left hand as well on the hilt while doing so. And then, he stopped again, leaving the blade to rest over the spared chestpiece protecting the training dummy. He remained still in that position, shaking his head slightly. His arms and bare chest muscles remaining tense for a moment, before starting to relax slowly as he speaked.

"I'm sorry, friend. I just..ahh, don't know. Perhaps I should just forget about it."

The frustration on his face was clearly visible now. It seemd directed at himself, though. Somehow, the man holding the sword over the dummy seemed a different person from the Pallaetes everyone used to know.


<TAG: Anyone!>

The little shaman, meanwhile, had busied herself with setting a kettle of water to boil over the hearth, and stringing up bundles of fresh herbs to hang from hooks she'd hammered into the walls. Her motto was, that it never hurt to be prepared. Afterall, it was all very well to send injured soldiers off to the temple, but she also felt comfortable having emergency salves on hand. She mixed them right at the barracks and besides that, it was nice to have fresh herbal tea after a gruelling guard drill. Some of the guards had also taken to her Cimmerian ways, and occasionally she'd make them all a nice cup of tea, to either start or end their days, or both! Just as she was doing now, as she set three tin mugs aside and pinched semi-dried and pressed lavender and camomile from their respective jars. The male voices outside were muffled, though Bjornia was hardly straining her ears to listen either. Her mind was elsewhere; trapped in a pleasantly intoxicating field, that teased a little smile to her strawberry pout. Only the whistling and shaking of the kettle, brought her back to a more conscious state, and the tea was poured.

Strolling outside with the three steaming mugs occupying her hands and pressed against her chest, the little red-head looked back and forth from Devan to Pallaetes, catching the very latest of their conversation.

"Ferget 'bout what now?" She blurted out, busting into their conversation while carefully offering the mugs out. It was, afterall, difficult to manage three scolding mugs, and already her calloused hands and bare forearms, were getting burnt. Yet still, regardless, those expectantly bright, sky-blue eyes, alert to the break of dawn already, stared first at Pallaetes, and then to Devan; where brows lightly nudged into a little frown. One of her 'what are you up to now?' looks, that brought a mild little grunt to her throat. Then casually, the mug dipped to her mouth, and she took a scolding sip, resting her free hand on the swell of one hip.


<TAG: the slacker!>

*Ching* ... *Ching* ... *Ching* came the sound from Aargus’ smithing hammer. He’d been tasked with making some simple weapons. A blade, a bow a dagger and so on. He was happy with his own progress, though occasionally having to ride back out into the plains to gather more resources.

Aargus wiped the sweat away from his brow, one drip escaping and splashing down silently on the bench. He looked down the length of the blade, a glint of light reflecting off its smooth finish. Aargus smiled. “That should keep him happy” he said to himself.
He opened his pack and pulled out all manner of twisted barks and vials of liquid. “Ok then” he thought staring down and the pile of mixed items. He sighed and packed them back away. “A job for later I think, weapons are one thing but these potions are a whole different matter”.

Aargus packed away his materials and wandered outside. The bright sun made him blink several times as his eyes became accustomed to the days light compared to the sheltered workshop.

Through the crowd he noticed some familiar faces. Grabbing his pack and slinging it over his shoulder he walked towards them.

The first figure he noticed was the hulking frame of Pallaetes. He who he had most recently travelled with into the Fields of the Dead and the Inner Sanctum. These two area’s he would never have dared venture alone. But Pallaetes had thought it a worthwhile experience for Aargus and his training. Thinking back of this recent excursion, Aargus grimaced at the thought of the beasts he had encountered there. He felt a dull ache across his arm from one of the many wounds he had came away with.

Aargus felt good to be in this crowd and back with the Templari. He was wary and weary when he first returned but he had been made very welcome. It had not taken him long to feel at home again and his training had progressed well. He knew Leoric from long ago and Aargus felt deep inside that while Leoric was full of cheer to see him, that there was a deepening concern over the safety of the guild. He knew Leoric well, and knew that hiding his feelings was not his best trait.

This thought lingered in Aargus’ head as he wandered to the group and his mind escaped momentarily as he cast his thoughts over his recent work on the weapons. Thinking if he could assist in shoring up the defences that way. Inside though, Aargus knew he was not only far from reaching the peak of his training but also that his skills as a weaponsmith or alchemist were a long way off being useful to the guild. Leoric had though suggested he got to grips with the siege weaponry. Something he would try to do, he just hoped his friend was not trying to pacify him while maybe providing a weak link in the guilds armour. Aargus shook off this thought in an instant. Leoric was too much the tactician to allow himself that weakness.

Striding to the group he threw away these thoughts and let out a wide grin.

<tag: all or none!>

Deryn pulled his furs tighter around himself as he made his way back from the large kitchen, trying to balance two plates of steaming food and a large mug of warm milk, almost dropping a plate from his arm with the movements of the furs, quickly releasing his grip from his throat to catch it. He sighed as he shifted the food and drink, realising that if the furs slipped again from their snug postion he wouldn't be able to adjust them. Not until he reached the relative warmth of the library and his woman.

With this thought his pace quickened down the slope, leather boots moving with a familar and confident step on the still dewy grass, keeping off the churned mud of the usual path.

He paid no attention to the different noises of the keep as he made his way back towards the library, only lifting his head once to spy a gathering near the barracks. He could see the differing shapes of familar people and thought for a moment to stop and join them, but the warmth of the plates on his arms and hands jolted him back to his task, veering off to one side to avoid them.

His thoughts were bound up in task of balancing the breakfasts and keeping his footing and he didn't see the slim figure until he was almost on top of her, almost plowing straight into her with a startled yelp and an almost graceful dance of clumsiness to keep his footing and the breakfasts intact, the milk slopping from the mug as he averted the collision just in time.

Panting slightly he managed to summon a smile and a warm face.

'Asha! Good mornin' ta ya'

<tag: anyone!>

A smile spread on her lips as she saw the familair shape of Deryn coming toward her, wrapped in furs and balancing various mugs and plates as he truged along a serious intent look on his bearded face.
The smile started to dissapear as she realised that in his foucused concentration he had not even noticed her and almost ran right into her.

In a display of gravity defying nimbleness that would do a profesional juggler proud, he suddenly realised she was there and plates and mugs did an amazing job of staying upright with only slight spillage. After the briefest of pauses to regain his composure, he bade her a good morning in his accented Cimmerian.
Asha chuckled, she had always liked the scribe from the first moment they met, he had a broader scope of view than most Cimmerians she had met and loved his letters and scrolls with a passion, she had even had a girlish crush on him for a while untill Annaise had come along and then she had realised they were a much better match for each other then she would have been.

"Morning Deryn, you should realy look where you tred or your going to loose that lot" she indicated the food and mug with a nod.
" here let me carry a plate at least to your quaters or your going to end up in mess, esspecialy if your furs slip"
Deryn aquicended and handed her a plate, now free of its burden he mangaed the others much better and he and Asha headed for the library, she stole a glance over to the barracks as they passed and could see a pair of figures one stripped to the waist, but at this range it was hard to tell who they were,
Hmmm looked like Pallaetes ,she thought and a sudden tingle ran down her spine, as soon as she had helped Deryn she would return to her first appointed task.

<Tag: Anyone>

Pallaetes’s open display of his feelings puzzled Devan more and more. The young Zingaran had a distinct sense of friendship and trust, and how you did not share your weaknesses with people you did not count as family. It is how he had grown up, and it is what he only thought natural.

And now, here, in the confines of high walls that he at first had thought would choke his sense of freedom, he realized that there was a freedom in being able to trust more people. Like this man now did. Were they family here after all? All of them?

Somewhat taken off guard, Devan shifted in his ruffled shirt and blanket still wrapped over his waists, cleared his throat to win some more time, and suddenly there was that voice of the little shaman again. "Ferget 'bout what now?" came the question as naturally as if she’s been stood there all along. Devan couldn’t but laugh inwardly at the natural rudeness of his woman, and how she had stepped in just in time before his normal carefree mask would have suffered a great risk of slipping completely.

He took the steaming mug from her with a quick cheeky kiss to her uppety curved nose, and bobbed his head in Pallaetes’s direction. "Soldado has troubles of the heart." Sipping at the lavender and camomile brew, he waited for it to spread like fluffy warm cotton through his empty morning stomach.

Shooting a glance over the rim of his mug then, the Zingaran added in a helpful tone, "But I think he doesn't want it flayed open right here and now, eh, do ye mate? Perhaps we should share a bottle some time, and talk more?"

His carefree smile was back behind the tin mug, but something in his brown eyes hinted that he meant his words quite seriously.

"Also, I'm hungry!"

<TAG: All>

As Bjornia strode close, Pallaetes got himself standing straight again and after pinning his sword to the ground once more he took the mug the shaman was offering him, nodding silently in thanks.
He took a sip from the brew, then smirked lightly as Devan replied to her.

Well, more of the mind than of the heart..but I guess it works the same.. The thought ran into Pallaetes' mind like a flash, although he didn't spoke it. He limited himself to look at Bjornia, his stare the same confused one he did gave her only a couple of days before, after they had recruited that Agrikaan guy. As he spoke though, he addressed the Zingaran.

"She knows it, Devan." He let out a light sigh, managing a goofy smirk at the thought. "Perhaps I should have talked with you back then, instead of keeping thngs inside for more time, eh Bjornia?"

As he finished speaking and waited for the little Cimmerian's reply, he let his gaze wander over her shoulder for a moment, noticing two figures carrying what seemed to be dishes, in the distance. One of them could have been Deryn, judging by the way he carryed himself, but he had no doubt on the other one. Asha. A little smile forced the corners of Pallaetes' mouth to slightly curve upwards, taking even himself by surprise.

The Shaman's words bringed his attention back to her.




<TAG: Bjornia>

Wrinkling her nose at the quick and cheeky invasion of her personal space, the little shaman grinned a moment to Devan over the rim of her steaming mug. Only, as the Zingaran was first to answer her question, her undivided attention settled on Pallaetes. Sky-blue eyes shrouded by several thoughts crossing wires in her skull.

"Hmph. It be a wee bit too late fer that," she commented dryly, side glancing in response to the Zingaran a moment, before once again, settling on the core of the problem. Several had been present during the awkward situation over the crystal, and she believed there were many who had preferred to remain silent. Unlike Bjornia, who had of course ranted and made her own opinion very much known. But she had a feeling things were far from settled, and so she nodded in quite a know-it-all manner as Palleates stated what she already knew: That he'd harboured his feelings for far too long. Of course, she had the benefit of by now being experienced in these matters, as she cast another quick glance to the difficult Zingaran. Yes, difficult was indeed the correct word. How long had she grumpily and secretly pinned for him, while he mysteriously gallivanted around Aquilonia and Stgyia and Crom knows here else, without a word to ease her worrying! Just thinking about it again brought another grumpy frown to her spring dawn features.

"Aye, ye should've!" Bjornia almost snapped back, granted Pallaetes' attention again. "An' ye gots ter stop thinkin' an' all. Least not up 'ere." On cue, she tapped her index fingertip to the top of her skull. "Else ye be ferever thinkin' an' nay doin', an' some lad be gettin' in tha' way. Ye be thinkin' Sarxas be tha' last o' 'em? Goin' fer a bonny lass like Asha? HAH!"

She very nearly barked more than just a half-laugh, as her chin tilted up a moment, forcing her head slightly back in a proud manner. "So ye bes' be lettin' yer worries ta tha' winds, an' be done with it fer good. Go on then. What be makin' ye think' so bleedin' much?"

Very casually, she took another sip of her tea, as if they were discussing something so simple and easy to converse about. Never did it strike her that this would be difficult for Pallaetes, and so she pressured him further with her expectant and impatient glare.

Pallaetes sighed heavily, casting his gaze downwards for a moment.
She was right. Why would he keep thinking this much, when just talking with Asha would have solved all the problems at once?
Or maybe would have made it all just a lot more complicated.

"I barely know her, Bjornia." he looked up at her again as he spoke "And besides, Sarxas proposed her." He sighed again, remaining silent for a moment, unsure if to let out what he suddenly realized was the real reason behind all his thoughts.

He had almost erased the memory from his mind. It hadn't been pleasant, back then. Speaking out his feelings for a girl and discover that just one day before someone had proposed her. It hadn't been pleasant. Moreso because it shattered two friendships into pieces at once. At least this time, he had the advantage of knowing the bigger picture.

"I..I don't want to repeat a mistake I did once...speaking out my feelings and loosing two friends because of it. Same situation, just..that time I didn't know of the proposal. This time, I do." He shook his head and shrugged lightly. "Perhaps it's just better I keep my mouth shut and leave them to their lives."

He exhaled heavily, his expression sad. A vulnerable young man standing there, with a hot mug in his hands. Just the kind of person he worked so hard to not be, especially in front of others.
Pallaetes bringed the mug to his lips and took another sip from the brew.



<TAG: Anyone!>