Rastellion turns and gapes at her. For long moments, the only sound in the small cabin is the muted crackling of the fire and the whisper of the wind fingering the roof's thatch. "But..." He swallows, and tries again. "But then why'd you leave Bree?" he asks. "Why'd you say you just wanted to be friends? Why ... why didn't you tell me?"
She turned away from Rastellion, staring off at the shutters as the moonlight dances between the slats. Reaching up, she carelessly shoves her hair behind her ear as she works her way through her tattered emotions. "What do ye want me t' say? Ye made it clear ye jus' want t' be friends. An' I thought 'okay, if that's th' only way I can be 'round him, then I can ...' Only I couldn't. Each time I saw ye go off wit' some pretty girl, I looked at meself and I wondered ... what do I have to offer someone like him?" She begins pacing the floor, limping slightly in her restless movements. "I ain't got none of th' things them girls have, an' it was eatin' me." She stops at the far end of the room, resting her forehead against the wall. "It ... it was more than I could bear."
He watches her limp about the room, still looking a bit stunned. "Some pretty girl? The only other girl I've been walking out with is Taala and..." He pauses, events clicking in to place. "... and that's why you were so upset when you saw us t'gether outside the Pony -- and when you realized I wasn't likely to be staying in Bree. Because you thought, you hoped..." He shakes his head, like a dog with water in its ears. "But, no... because you were also stepping out with that other fellow - Skype? no Skyve - then too!" He spreads his hands. "How's that different? That's why I thought... I mean, why I didn't think that you were in ..." He trails off, as if unable to even say the phrase, still looking baffled.
Her shoulders shake as she begins to cry. "I shouldna have okay? He was so nice to me though, an' I reckon I did like him well 'nough. I jus' ... I 'xpected ... I don't know what I 'xpected, but that fellas like that tend t' want certain things from a girl like me. It's all I'm worth now ... after ... " she chokes up on her sobs, unable to finish.
Pausing a moment, he hastens across the room and, cautiously, takes her in his arms. "A girl like you? No... You're worth as much as any of those city lasses. Don't know how you can think otherwise!"
She stiffens at his touch as the sobs continue. For a moment, it seems as though she'll pull away from him; however, the gentle hug is more than she can resist and, burying her head in his chest, she continues to cry. "Me?" she said, between sobs, "How can I be worth anything next t' them. How can I be worth anything t' anyone? Only worth e'er put in me was what coin could be made by me layin' in a bed."
Unsure what else to do, he strokes her back, lightly. "You had it bad while you were on your own, I know. You said. But that's not who you are." He pulls her a little closer. "Who you are's the girl who's working for Zandrianna, and who cooks up a storm, and who's brave and clever enough to find her way all the way out to my uncle's place with scarce a clue to go on!" He grins slightly, despite the intensity of the emotions. "Even if it was daft as a mad badger for you t' do so!"
Immalaine continued crying, listening to Rastellion as he attempted to comfort her. "But anyone woman can cook Rastellion. Yer pa said so. An' it weren't so hard t' find yer uncle's place, I jus' knocked on 'nough doors is all." As her sobs subsided to soft crying, she pauses to think about the lady Zan, and how she left her. Blowing out a deep sigh and feeling somewhat guilty, she asked. "Zandrianna? How is she? I left her wit' some food, didna want her t' go without, not wit' th' babe comin' an' all."
Huffing out a short laugh, the breath fluttering a strand of Immalaine's hair, he replies wryly. "She's mad as a bear with its paw in one of my uncle's traps, that's how she is. Told me it was all my fault you'd run away and t' come find you b'fore you became a meal rather than a cook." He pauses, remembering. "I didn't believe her when she said it was my fault... but I guess 'twas." He steps back, to look at her, holding her shoulders. "Well, look, you've told me now. Come back t' Bree. There's so much for ya there - a home, a job, people who care 'bout you, hungry mouths to feed - and there's nothin' out her 'cept orcs and my bitter old pa.... and we can talk about this" - he waves his hand, as if not able to say the words - "this... all this once we're back and safe, hm?"
Her eyes and cheeks still damp with tears, Immalaine looks up, her expression torn and tired. "I want t' Rastellion, I really do," she started, "But ... how can I when I'm jus' gonna keep seein' ye step out wit' someone what is prettier, smarter than me? Knowin' there's no way I can e'er measure up t' that." Resting her palms against his chest, she trembles against him. "Why should I go back, when jus' as easy t' stay here an' not be able t' see it at all?" She leans back against the wall, supporting herself there, as she looks up at the ceiling blindly.
Rastellion bites at his lower lip for a long moment. "Y'know that Taala's not ... she's got her heart set on another fellow, I think. And she's not the settling down type. I know I"m hardly the only fellow that she..." His blithering trails off as he sees the stricken look on Immalaine's face only deepen. "That doesn't matter, does it?" he asks, softly. "That's what you meant when you said ... what you said."
Closing her eyes, Immalaine tries to will herself away as the ache in her spreads to her head. "How would ye feel, seein' me step out wit' some other fellas? But then," she adds quietly, "I 'magine t'wouldn't 'ffect ye, would it?"
He opens his mouth as if about to give a quick, easy answer... and leaves it open, staring at her for an awkwardly long moment. Oddly, in the mix of emotions that seem to flicker across his face like the cabin's firelight, something almost approaching fear seem to predominate. He turns from her, suddenly, staring back toward the hearth, his hands gripping the back of one of the chairs. "You know I may not be able to stay in Bree, right?" He says, voice quiet. "Not be able t' convince my pa to move. Have t' come back up here t' work th' land. So I ... I don't know how long I'll be stayin'..."
Sliding down the wall of the cabin, Immalaine sits down, a look of misery crossing her face. "I know, Rastellion. Ye dun said, made it clear t' me that. An' didna I offer t' come out here fer ye? Didna I come out here, jus' so ye could stay in Bree, where yer suited? Where ye can do .... whatever it is ye do in the tradin' halls. An' I dun care 'bout if I get paid or not."
Still not looking at her, he shakes his head. "No, no... it's not that. What I was going to ask was..." He takes a deep breath. "What I was going t' ask was if I promised to be with you - and only you - until then, if you'd come back with me. I can't make no honest promise for after that, 'cause I don't know where I'll be but ... least 'til then..." He turns. "'Til then I'll be just with you. And ... and maybe after, too." He finally manages to meet her gaze.
Looking up at him, Immalaine's eyes widen at his words. A small jolt of hope throbbed through her, followed by a overwhelming sense of uncertainty. "I ... I ..." she started to speak, finding herself speechless. Licking her lips, she took a breath, trying again to form the words. "How do I know ye mean it? That ... that ..." Emotions raced across her face in the near darkness, as she thought about what he'd just said. Finally, unable to find the words she wanted, she simply nodded to him and whispered "yes."
As he takes a step towards her, his step falters as he pauses, suddenly uncertain. "And the same for you... I mean, only with me?..." His voice trails off as it rises on the query.
Watching him, her mind still taking in what he'd said before she nods again. "Yes ... just wit' ye."
He steps the rest of the way to the wall against which she's slumped and reaches both hands down, to lift her back to her feet. He nods back, finding a more resolute set to his features. "Then that's what we'll do," he say, firmly.
Looking up at his outstretched hands, relief flickers across her face. "I reckon I'll be glad t' get back home.I ... I miss Bree some. I miss Zandrianna too, she's real nice, fer a lady an' all. An'," she finishes quietly, "I missed ye too."
"So did I," he answers, as quietly.
Taking his hands, she stands up with his help, before pausing as if torn. Finally she wraps her arms around him, in a tentative hug, resting her cheek against his chest. "So, I reckon we'll be headin' home ..." she paused, as if in awe of the word.
"Soon as it's light enough," he agrees. He strokes her hair, then leans his head back as, with an index finger to her chin, he gently turns her face toward his.
Turning her head at his gentle urging, she looks up at him, some of the tension from the past couple of days easing in her body and mind. "Rastellion ..." she whispered. Looking down, he smiles and whispers back, "Imma." He bends down and presses his mouth to hers. His lips part and...
BANG! Behind them, the door between the small cottage's two small rooms swings open and hits the wall. In the doorway, fitfully lit by the dying fire's reflected glow, a dark figure leans on his crude crutch. Rastelion instinctively steps away from Immalaine and turns toward the sound, half defensive, half defending. From behind Cuthberd, in the adjoining room's dark, comes Ceolfred's sleepy complaint, "... by a troll's black balls...".
"Boy," Cuthberd's nasal voice snaps out. "What's keepin' you." His narrowed eyes move to Immalaine. "Didn't I warn you about her type? Don't be a fool. Now get in here and get some sleep. You're t' travel back down t' Bree t'morrow t' get my money! Without any more o' these jaunts of yours! Now git in here!"
Immalaine looks over at Cuthberd, then back to Rastellion. "Go," she whispers, barely above her breath. "Get ye some sleep, an' I'll do th' same."
Looking back at her, then to his father, he shakes his head slightly. "Not good enough," he whispers. He turns and takes a step toward the older man. "Now, listen," he starts, voice shaking, "you can't..."
Ceolfred appears in the doorway behind Cuthberd and lays a hand on the man's shoulder. "Banging about th' place like an auroch!" he accuses. "Mebbe you can sit 'round th' fire and doze all day, but I gotta be up. Th' boy, too." He looks over at Rastellion, noticing his nephews set expression and clenched fists. One brow rises, but he says, "C'mon, nephew. Best you be getting your sleep. It's a long ride back t' Bree." He looks past Rastellion to Immalaine, studying her expression for an intent moment, before returning his gaze to the young man. "C'mon now," he repeats. "An' you," he says, voice harsher, as he turns to Cuthberd, "t' bed with you too."
Rastellion looks over his shoulder at Immalaine, frustrated, but she simply smiles a bit wryly, before stifling a yawn. Shooing him with her hands, she nods to him. "Go on," she whispers, "Yer uncle's right an' we do need some sleep fer the ride t'morrow." Looking to make sure his father isn't looking, she blows him a quick kiss, before stepping around him to head to the makeshift bedroll on the ground.
His expression softens - "Goodnight" he mouths - then he turns and follows the other men into the back room, where his own pallet waits.
(Credits and love go to Rastellion, who provided the voice of the male characters in this story. *Blows kisses to Rastellion and grins widely*)
