[ Nina would like to know how you are assessing whether or not her foot is asleep just by looking, and would doubtless invite you for a closer inspection and comparison just to further demonstrate your technique, if she knew judgement had been passed.
She hates the openness of this place, the many strung hammocks and the way it invites denial.
She lets go of him to run her hands through her hair; what a mess. She doesn't even have a comb to fix it. Either it.
Does he really think he can just show up beneath her hammock and have her not ask, not be worried? She doesn't bother hiding the flicker of distress at the corners of her lips, the way her eyes narrow before she turns away. She takes a deep breath. ]
[ Pressure on the foot, movement of a body. She's not the only one who knows some particulars. But if he wants to call her on it, the moment passes, and he doesn't, besides. ]
That would be wise.
[ — as if he debates, in this moment, whether he wants to choose wisdom. They have woken up out of eggs, hale and whole, if a little worn from travel, and they can be whatever they want to be except not quite, because he hasn't stopped being who he is and he won't leave his wolf behind. ]
[ But he can't turn away from Nina either. That's a worse choice, between uncomfortable and worse... ]
[ Sensing some of the tornado within her, Trassel moves to nose at her hand, flip his head beneath her hand so it rests about his ears, leans his body against her leg. Comfort. From an isenulf.
While his partner - his brother - pretends nothing is wrong at her as hard as he possibly can, as stoic as the blank face of a cliff.
"Be careful, Nina."
She doesn't turn back to him; her lips are pressed tightly together. ]
Let's.
[ She starts walking, not having anything that needs to be grabbed or packed. This is not the end; it is at most a reprieve. ]
[ He watches his wolf — his brother — betray his side for Nina's. Charmed by a drusje. It's still a joke. Matthias has no jealousy in this regard, feels nothing but relieved that his dearest friend in all the world has accepted Nina without a moment's hesitation. And even offers her his presence for comfort. ]
[ As they walk, ]
I thought it might be better to go to the gym first.
[ A little sheepishly. Exercise, bathe, and then eat, that's a good routine. He's just thinking aloud. ]
Exercise right after waking? Torture, [ Nina responds lightly, her hand still resting on Trassel's head. This is her life right now. ] I wouldn't mind stopping first in the bathroom, though. There's not much I can do without a comb, but I would like to at least wash my face.
[ She's so hard to wake, and now she doesn't even want to exercise? This is no warrior's training, not to be instantly ready — he can't blame her for not feeling refreshed, he isn't, either. ]
[ They stop in front of the communal bathrooms and she lifts her hand from Trassel's head; he can't come in. She steps forward and then glances back at him. ]
Coming?
[ This is not an invitation to shower or anything more intimate; there will be sinks and other facilities and it's silly for him to have to wait for her. ]
[ She does not ambush him when he enters the bathroom. She doesn't even look at him, concentrating on doing what she can to get somewhat presentable. She does not ambush him when they leave the bathroom. She does not even ambush him as they start walking to breakfast.
No, she waits until they're very nearly there, and there is a likely crevice along the way. Then she puts both hands above her head and stretches. ]
[ Since you did sleep on the ground. Under her hammock.
She's not going to be tricky about this. She's not going to lead him down a merry path and pick up what he feels in his heartbeat. Instead, this is his last chance to tell her before she asks him. ]
[ — is the soft confession. The dreams had woken him, and he'd sought out the nearest comforting thing. Like a cold night, shored up against the biting wind, him and Trass. And knowing they both slept under Nina's hammock, keeping her safe. ]
Maybe next time I will wake you, but it is unlikely.
[ He would balk at the comfort she would offer him, it would just be annoying. ]
[ Nina blinks, absorbs that, acknowledges it as valid, and presses in anyway, reaching for his arm with all her bravery. ]
You can disturb me, though. I rather think that's the point.
[ Isn't it? Of being... what they are to each other? Isn't being able to disturb each other (or not) the point? Are they still... even after yesterday? ]
[ He murmurs, with a little humour, as he lets her take his arm. It is one thing to promise you'll find a new place together, try to be something other than enemies. It is another to have known she had to bargain with others for his life. No, they're not quite even. ]
[ You're disturbing me now, she almost says, and only doesn't because it isn't quite true. Worrying would be more accurate.
He's let her take his arm; she drops it and takes a half step back, looking up at him. ]
Why?
[ You've no further use for me? Always and ever, since her mother had died, she'd only ever been valued for what she could do. He hated what she could do. It should be a comfort, except he also hated why she could do it, he hated what she was. ]
[ How exactly does he tell her, your hope gives me nightmares? He hasn't had that one in a while, and it came back full force, renewed with new information. New terrors, to keep him churning. ]
[ He's still — a long pause, as he considers. ]
I am not sure there is a way to see eye on eye on this. I would rather not fight.
[ The honesty of that has her stepping forward, moving to bracket both his forearms with her hands and looking up at him. Earnestly: ]
I'd rather not give up on trying to find a way to understand. I'm not afraid of fighting with you - [ she pauses, then continues recklessly: ] - I'm afraid of losing you.
[ But there is no kind way to tell her about it, no gentle way. And not something he wants to do before breakfast, either. Matthias steps forward, resting one of his hands on her arm, where it grasps his own. ]
You have earned my friendship. It cannot be lost by any means other than death or betrayal. This I promise you.
[ Even if he says it with a little wry humour, he understands with lightning clarity that it's true — he doesn't have to worry about it. They have come out of clashes before, haven't they? Because they keep building bridges. He wants to know her, know more about her. Enough to decide if she is threatening or not, when she's already dangerous. ]
[ She searches his gaze for a moment more and then lets go of his hands, takes a half-step back. ]
You're still not going to tell me, or wake me if it happens again, are you. [ That stings; not good enough, not human enough, not worthy of trust. That's not fair, Nina. Would she want to go to him with her nightmares? No. So she manages to nod. ] All right. But I hope you know that I'm here, if you ever choose to.
[ That's not fair. He's doing his best not to be loudly objecting further to this sun summoner nonsense, to just try and be worried and nothing more, and it's hard. It is harder than anything else he's ever done, and he's slogged through every vicious natural thing Fjerda has had to throw at him. He doesn't want to shove that out there right now. ]
[ Matthias squeezes her hand. Softly, ]
That's not fair.
[ But she rights herself nearly immediately after, and, ]
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She hates the openness of this place, the many strung hammocks and the way it invites denial.
She lets go of him to run her hands through her hair; what a mess. She doesn't even have a comb to fix it. Either it.
Does he really think he can just show up beneath her hammock and have her not ask, not be worried? She doesn't bother hiding the flicker of distress at the corners of her lips, the way her eyes narrow before she turns away. She takes a deep breath. ]
I suppose we should get breakfast.
[ A hungry isenulf to feed and all. ]
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That would be wise.
[ — as if he debates, in this moment, whether he wants to choose wisdom. They have woken up out of eggs, hale and whole, if a little worn from travel, and they can be whatever they want to be except not quite, because he hasn't stopped being who he is and he won't leave his wolf behind. ]
[ But he can't turn away from Nina either. That's a worse choice, between uncomfortable and worse... ]
Let's go.
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While his partner - his brother - pretends nothing is wrong at her as hard as he possibly can, as stoic as the blank face of a cliff.
"Be careful, Nina."
She doesn't turn back to him; her lips are pressed tightly together. ]
Let's.
[ She starts walking, not having anything that needs to be grabbed or packed. This is not the end; it is at most a reprieve. ]
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[ As they walk, ]
I thought it might be better to go to the gym first.
[ A little sheepishly. Exercise, bathe, and then eat, that's a good routine. He's just thinking aloud. ]
But I think we should eat.
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All right.
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Coming?
[ This is not an invitation to shower or anything more intimate; there will be sinks and other facilities and it's silly for him to have to wait for her. ]
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[ But he also does need to wash his face and flatten his hair a little. Matthias nods, once, briskly. To Trass, he issues a short command to wait. ]
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No, she waits until they're very nearly there, and there is a likely crevice along the way. Then she puts both hands above her head and stretches. ]
Oh, I do not like sleeping in those hammocks.
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They are not ideal, [ he says, agreeably. ] I would prefer to sleep on the ground.
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You should have woken me up. I'd have joined you.
[ Since you did sleep on the ground. Under her hammock.
She's not going to be tricky about this. She's not going to lead him down a merry path and pick up what he feels in his heartbeat. Instead, this is his last chance to tell her before she asks him. ]
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I just did it without thinking.
[ — is the soft confession. The dreams had woken him, and he'd sought out the nearest comforting thing. Like a cold night, shored up against the biting wind, him and Trass. And knowing they both slept under Nina's hammock, keeping her safe. ]
Maybe next time I will wake you, but it is unlikely.
[ He would balk at the comfort she would offer him, it would just be annoying. ]
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Oh? And why is that?
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I... didn't want to disturb you.
[ And for what? To open the door to an old wound, strip for her in a way he has never done for anyone, to show the root of those dreams? No thanks. ]
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You can disturb me, though. I rather think that's the point.
[ Isn't it? Of being... what they are to each other? Isn't being able to disturb each other (or not) the point? Are they still... even after yesterday? ]
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[ He murmurs, with a little humour, as he lets her take his arm. It is one thing to promise you'll find a new place together, try to be something other than enemies. It is another to have known she had to bargain with others for his life. No, they're not quite even. ]
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He's let her take his arm; she drops it and takes a half step back, looking up at him. ]
Why?
[ You've no further use for me? Always and ever, since her mother had died, she'd only ever been valued for what she could do. He hated what she could do. It should be a comfort, except he also hated why she could do it, he hated what she was. ]
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[ He's still — a long pause, as he considers. ]
I am not sure there is a way to see eye on eye on this. I would rather not fight.
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I'd rather not give up on trying to find a way to understand. I'm not afraid of fighting with you - [ she pauses, then continues recklessly: ] - I'm afraid of losing you.
[ She knows this has been a Lot. ]
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You have earned my friendship. It cannot be lost by any means other than death or betrayal. This I promise you.
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In that case, you don't need to worry about us fighting.
[ She'd told him: she didn't want to be his enemy; she would never just stand aside and let him be hurt. ]
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[ Even if he says it with a little wry humour, he understands with lightning clarity that it's true — he doesn't have to worry about it. They have come out of clashes before, haven't they? Because they keep building bridges. He wants to know her, know more about her. Enough to decide if she is threatening or not, when she's already dangerous. ]
Very well.
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You're still not going to tell me, or wake me if it happens again, are you. [ That stings; not good enough, not human enough, not worthy of trust. That's not fair, Nina. Would she want to go to him with her nightmares? No. So she manages to nod. ] All right. But I hope you know that I'm here, if you ever choose to.
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[ Matthias squeezes her hand. Softly, ]
That's not fair.
[ But she rights herself nearly immediately after, and, ]
In time, perhaps.
[ When they're better at being a team. ]
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