Random Encounter Story

Once he was finished with the song, Sebastian stole one glance at Sylvie, narrowed his eyes and raised his eyebrow. With a slight twitch of his lips, he decided to throw caution to the wind (balmy and warming) and launched into another song, eyes firmly on the road. It, too, was in another language, one different from the last, and a slight rasp entered his voice when he sang it -- it, too was rhytmical, and suited his range far better.

To be honest, it was closer to home in terms of language and speech patterns for Sebastian, so he felt more comfortable.

Once he finished, he sighed and looked at Sylvie again.

She smiled at him for a moment, eyes nearly closed. "Very nice, both of them."

The street started climbing uphill. Sylvie saved her breath. The ground was firmer, more gravelly.

"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 -- <em>I</em> 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 <em>fucking</em> 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: <em>I told you.</em> 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.

<em>Shut your mouth, kid</em>, the sunflower said. <em>As for you, calm down. I'm keeping this little runt quiet so you can insult her all you want</em>, 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.

<em>Well?</em>

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.

The older woman, the sunflower, nodded calmly and patiently.

The other, the butterfly, now had her mouth open. <em>That is most certainly not fair!</em>

The half-elf on the other hand, let go of Sylvie, giving that sign with a pat on her bottom. Then he got up and, with apparently no fear at all, approached the visages. He glared up at the sunflower-woman and butterfly-woman, met both stares and shook, even as he pointed his hurt finger at the butterfly-woman. "You... you're going to tell me what's fair? I'll tell you what's fair!"

<em>Careful!</em> said the butterfly, landing on the finger -- the human visage appeared to be grabbing it, and for a moment Sebastian looked painful. His finger was being twisted, economically and expertly.

Just like he'd do it. Up until there was a sudden <em>bong</em> sound, and the bare-chested woman was smacked with what appeared to be a bear trap. The sunflower appeared nonchalant about it, whistling quietly and avoiding the butterfly's glare.

Sebastian hissed in some breath and began to shout at the butterly in an old, faraway language.

While he did so, the sunflower walked over to Sylvie and said, quiet and gently, <em>I think we two need to talk.</em>

Sylvie was dusting off her knees after getting up. She gave Sebastian a look. He seemed to prefer handling that talk alone, so she turned to... the Old Lady? Close enough, Sylvie assumed.

"Well, I'm here." She matched the ghostly woman's voice at least in volume.

The Old Lady, Lady Land, Nature glanced over at Sebastian and Lady Luck, Fortune, Fortuna, Mischief. For a while it looked like they were going to go at each other's throats, but finally the butterly ended up on his forehead -- while the visage kissed his forehead.

It certainly stopped the half-elf for a moment.

<em>She's considered him her child for as long as he's been making things difficult for people. Me, hah, I've always looked over him. But Luck? Luck's been... hm. No, I don't need to explain, do I?</em> the sunflower-lady said, staring at Sylvie. <em>Probably not. Now, before you, too, tell me to fuck off, ask your questions.</em>

<em>Heedless</em>, Sylvie would have finished the sentence.

Whether the implication of how well the goddess knew her was real or just in Sylvie's imagination, it chilled her. A question she had never dared think about billowed to the top of her mind. The one that mattered most immediately, if they were accepting his resignation, fought for attention, but was postponed. Questions, so she should have at least two.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, only opening them gradually while she spoke. "For how long have you two been pulling <em>my</em> strings to arrange this?" She stood tensely upright, feet about shoulder-width apart, one knee bent a little due to the slope, hands clasped behind her back. Her voice sounded more tired than angry.

While Sebastian was looking like he wanted to punch Luck, Land sighed, shook her head and caused Luck to stiffen. Sebastian took the chance to huff and puff, point and insult Luck. And then just freeze.

<em>Before you ask, I happen to be stronger here.</em> Land looked over at the two, bored and amused at the same time. <em>She has been using you as a test subject to check whether or not he is too weary. Myself, the same thing. Luck is a fickle little bitch.</em> Land grinned, excused herself for a moment and, with a single slap, quieted down Luck.

Sebastian remained in one of his quiet, utterly unresponsive states.

<em>She doesn't want to lose him,</em> Land said. <em>As for me, I've kept her quiet, no matter how persistently she's been trying to talk to him. Unfortunately, I... well, I have hardly been very good to him myself. But, since that branch hit his head. I was behind that. And the chimera.</em>

Sylvie followed Land. When she finally got the answer she had asked for, she let out a huge sigh and relaxed a good deal. Being used as a tool wasn't a nice thought, and neither was Land's treatment of Sebastian, but Sylvie didn't want to know what it would have done to her mind if they had started manipulating her life as early as setting up her father's scheme.

She repeated what had worked last time, touching his face and calling his name - sticking with Sebastian due to habit.

Land, in the meantime, did not seem to care what Sylvie did to Sebastian. She was dealing with Luck. <em>You. Go sulk. Go cause a windfall or catastrophe, or stay and behave. I gave you the terms. Now behave.</em>

The butterfly -- the ghostly image of Luck in her toga shrank and cursed, just as Sebastian stopped biting his teeth together and looked at Sylvie. His first action was to take a very long breath, then blink and look at Sylvie.

<em>Now, just this one thing,</em> Land said. <em>Any questions, hmm?</em>

Sebastian bared his canines, but as soon as he did so, Land gave him another glare.

<em>Not you. Her.</em>

"Oh."

Sylvie turned to the goddess - without being quite aware of it so she was standing between her and Sebastian, and nodded. "Why these games? Why did you tell Kord to treat him badly?"