Random 106

"Thank you. I can keep going on," he said, apparently not the least worried that he might run out of breath -- at least, up until he assessed the climb. "After the hill, anyway."

"I'd like that, if you'd like to."

As they followed the road, she traded him a few jokes and stories. They kept the conversation light.

Despite what Sylvie had said earlier, for the moment they kept heading west, figuring that they might as well get out of the area affected by the unnatural weather, rather than walking through more muck than necessary. And indeed, they reached areas that had seen rain days ago, but not the masses concentrated on Canyet, before the sun set.

They left the road when it veered north and up another rise, themselves following deerpaths into a wooded valley. A copse of conifers looked promising for a camp, if they forwent a fire.

"We do have a light, if we need one." Sylvie looked over her shoulder, back to where they'd come from.

After her statement, he was quiet for a while, evaluating their surroundings.

"We do?" Sebastian asked, voice hoarse from singing and mind slightly puzzled. He'd gone over so many folk songs from so many different languages, taking great pains to explain them to Sylvie.

He followed her gaze for a moment, then examined the copse. He saw nothing wrong with it, and actually found it better than some places where he'd spent a night.

There was one thing, though.

"I'm only sad there's not a stream," the half-elf said wistfully.

"I still have that orb you gave me," Sylvie answered his question.

His second remark made her chuckle. She set down her backpack, embraced him and said, smiling, "There might be one at the bottom of the valley, or just muck. We could look for a proper stream tomorrow."

"Oh. Well, good. I'd forgotten about that. But I'll settle for just a stream of..." Of what? Sebastian looked a little nervous as he wrapped his arms around her and swallowed. "Well, screw the stream. As long as..." His voice finally cracked.

"We're together?" she suggested softly. Sebastian's nervosity was contagious since it made her worry about hurting him.

"Exactly," he said, pulling back a little, smiling, relaxing. Then he kissed her, murmurring, "I just want you. Now, tomorrow, for as long as you'll have me."

He shuddered a little. Oh no. No helping it this time, the tears. Being afraid of losing someone was nothing new to him, but this time -- this time... this time it was damn near debilitating.

Only salt water. No sound. No heaving.

That, as it happened, was the extent of his self-control.

Sylvie returned the kiss tentatively, listening.

When Sebastian started crying, she pressed herself against him, her hands clasped in the small of his back, body contact being the clearest was to show she did not want to be divided from him she knew. Despite moisture rising to her eyes and being a bit too close for it, she tried looking into his eyes, if he did not look away.

"I need you. I need someone I can trust and rely on. Someone I don't have to hide from." That was the core of it, in all its selfishness. "You're the first person I truly trust I've met in a decade, and for me that's a long time."

That was enough. The half-elf shook his head, sending grey hair from side to side and let out a long, stifled moan. "It's been longer for me," he said, now shuddering with the barely contained reaction to the words Sylvie had just said. "I -- I need you just as much. I have trusted people, but not this much. I can't hide in front of you. I can't lie, I don't feel the need to keep my thoughts from you, and... and I just damned well want you. All of you. I know I'm selfish, but you're the best thing to have happened.

"And I'm just so sorry, so damnably glad, so fucking glad I dragged you into a mess that made you so tired and... and..."

That was it. His lip started trembling. Memories of years gone past, cruelties and good things he'd done, bloodshed and charity, every dichotomy flashed in his mind.

And he finally found himself in the present, dragging Sylvie to her knees as he fell on his. It had been centuries, relative to time passing on many worlds, since he had last cried like a baby. Every reason to do so now came back. So, he cried -- and he mostly cried for, after and because of Sylvie.

He was too afraid of losing her.

Sylvie held him, hands high on his back, crying in sympathy, worry for him, and relief -- had she really had any doubt left that dissolved right then?

Looking for something reassuring to say she pulled him closer yet, cheek to cheek, stubble be damned. With a little chuckle she whispered, "If we're both selfish, that makes it a fair trade. It's all right. It's all right."

The effect those words and the slightly teary chuckle had was that his hysterics began to subside, little by little, slowly, gently. Sebastian's dizzy mind, still in the throes of many memories and utter confusion, began to follow a mental equivalent of a rock following the laws of gravity.

It returned, if slowly, consciousness. Face flushed and swollen, nose leaking and eyes red, he finally leaned back, tried to clear his throat and looked at her straight in the eyes -- just to press his forehead against hers. He began to squeeze his eyes together and gave a long, warbling sigh.

Eyes open again, his forehead parted hers. "...'nk you. I can't thank you enough."

Having her own words returned to her, Sylvie couldn't help but laugh. Not very loudly, but after a moment it was clear enough what shook her were not sobs. Half-broken as each of them was, maybe they could mend if they leaned on each other.

It put a smile on his pale-yet-reddened face once he realised she was laughing. He was still emotional, and had trouble gauging his own emotional state. One thing he did know about his emotional state, though. Or emotions, to be exact. But, Sebastian considered, no reason in wearing out the "three little words" as what... Well.

He hugged her closer, unwilling to leave this slightly uncomfortable position.

She leaned into him for a few moments, calming down again.

Something weighted on Sylvie's mind, and she started out with the point she wanted to be really clear about. "I love you. I want you to be happy, and to be together with you, right along." She took a deep breath. The distinction was important. "Your gods disgust and scare me."

"They've made me angry," he said calmly, then leaned back a little, raising gloved hands to her cheeks to better examine her face. With a determined frown, squinted eyes, he bit his lip.

"Would you," Sebastian began, thoughts churning and going back to how he remembered the earliest way of saying this, "take my hand to keep, to never take yours away, come what may and only let go once our hands can't be held together anymore?" A twitch went through his mind as he realised it was a direct translation from his first language.

The implication of 'until death' was very clear. "Can I promise that? Can you? Can you run away from your gods if they decide they prefer you theirs and alone?"

"I would damned well try, and use all the skill I've --"

The chiming and tingling. It was audible to Sylvie as well this time. In fact, Sebastian thought he finally found the rhythm in the sounds, and when he turned to watch over to his left, farther into the copse --

There was a walking sunflower that had a silver butterfly on it. And the flower said, gruffly: I told you. For some reason it was obvious it was talking to the butterfly. It didn't have eyes to direct. But it was there.

Sebastian's mouth opened and stayed that way.

"Oh, what now?" Sylvie said under her breath. A hint of a snarl was underlying her voice. She half-turned towards them, wiped her eyes with her right hand, and hooked her left around Sebastian's belt without thinking.

Shut your mouth, kid, the sunflower said. As for you, calm down. I'm keeping this little runt quiet so you can insult her all you want, the sunflower said, approaching. Again, somehow, it seemed to refer and point at the butterfly.

Sebastian closed his mouth and watched. The closer the sunflower and butterfly came, the more obvious it appeared to both himself and Sylvie that there was a certain ghost image imprinted in the approaching figure. Certainly, there was a sunflower and a butterfly, yes, but... also...

A middle-aged woman of plain looks and muscular arms, stout legs and ample belly was calmly, almost boredly, dragging along a struggling, startlingly beautiful woman only dressed in a toga that left her breasts uncovered.

Well?

At that point, Sebastian blinked, frowned and took a deep breath. "...fuck you two both."

Meanwhile Sylvie had put her right leg forward, foot on the ground, waiting for a sign if Sebastian wasnted to get up.

She couldn't say she understood exactly what was going on, Sebastian's words drew a lopsided smile from her. Confused and angry and giddy, she watched for the reaction.