As A Stranger Or A Friend?

Axtapor - 12 Rain's Hand, 1245 A.D.

Another day passed when we finally set out to continue our journey. I offered her rest the night before, not just for her sake but also for mine. Not only had she attempted to kill herself, which shook me in a way I didn't have words for, but she also told me that she didn't feel the same way I did about her. Even though her explanation of it was reasonable, the realization stung. I suppose I had loved her one-sidedly this whole time and had the thought that if I confessed those feelings to her that she would just go along with them. Obviously, that didn't happen.

She had given me a chance to try righting things with her, but only after I'd done some earnest pleading. I supposed I was lucky that she wasn't genuinely vengeful; otherwise, she might not have shown me such kindness. Either way, it seemed I had once again ruined things with a woman I cared about. But this time, it was far worse. Now that I understood what I felt was indeed love, the hurt and disappointment of not having that sentiment returned were more far-reaching than I expected. It felt as if she had repeatedly shoved that dull knife into my belly and left me for dead. I couldn't blame her, though. I severely wronged her and was the cause of her recent misfortunes. There was really no amount of justification that I or anyone else could do to make me less guilty of those transgressions.

"You never told me who you would take me to in The Empire." She remarked quietly as we walked side by side.

"Oh aye, suppose I did no." I said with a nod.

I could be cloak and dagger about my decisions, but if I truly wanted to correct things as I said I would, then it would be better to be transparent with her whenever I had the chance.

"My grandmother. She be the only person I trust complete in this world."

"I see... I look forward to meeting her." She said softly.

"Ye's will get along, I think. Ye both know how to set me in my place..." I said half in self-pity and half in jest.

She was silent, and I took that to mean that she didn't find humor in what I'd said, but then something new greeted me: giggling. Her giggling. I glanced at her to see that she was covering her mouth with her hand in an attempt to hide her smile. She was so cute, and her tiny laugh was so charming...it was a shame she didn't like me. Still, I remembered my long list of wrongdoings and decided not to pity myself so much.

"I don't mean to laugh at your expense, but pouting doesn't become you." She explained after having recovered.

"Aye, she would agree with ye on that count, too." I responded with a small scoff as we continued walking in the darkness.

Her tiny giggles punctuated our steps as we went. I was glad to have brought her some joy and laughter, even if it was, as she said, 'at my expense'. It was much better than the alternative of making her cry.

"Oh aye, keep on with yer wee laughin'..." I grumbled.

"Please don't be cross."

"I nay be cross." I replied with a purposeful pout this time.

"Very well then." She replied, followed by quieter giggles.