Thunk.
Thunk.
Thunk.
Nostariel let out a breath and relaxed her arm, bringing the practice bow down and grinning over at her instructor. All three arrows, drawn and fired in quick succession, had hit the target in a close grouping, the last one actually a bull's-eye. She was making those with regularity now, though it was still easier when she had a couple seconds to concentrate, so now she was working on making it more automatic, by aiming and releasing in less than three seconds. Thankfully, none of these was ever a total miss anymore. A couple of years had made all the difference, it turned out. Well, a couple of years of careful teaching, at any rate. She was hardly ever sore anymore, and what stiffness she did manage to accrue was never long in staying, thanks to her other lessons. She felt like an entirely new person; it fit that she had new skills to go with it.
"What do you think, Ash? Not too bad, was it?" She asked. It was halfway from genuine curiosity, and half because, well... she rather liked earning his praise. Silly, maybe, but harmless, so she might as well.
On a stone not so far away, Ashton sat, using the his bow as a rest for his chin. And though he was facing Nostariel's direction, his eyes were turned inward to himself. When his name was called, he looked up and tore his thoughts away from whatever it was he was pondering. His own head tilted as he followed Nostariel's stance and arc, where the three arrows sat neatly in a cluster on the target. It was like this more often than not lately, she was getting better all on her own now. She hardly even needed his helpful words. He couldn't have been more proud and more relieved. Good to know that he didn't manage to screw her up. "It's great," he said, though the words took longer to form than usual. Something was on his mind, and it wasn't Nostariel's progress.
But just like that, the mood bounced as he donned the largest, smirkiest grin he could. With a flourish he stood up from his rock, one that he'd sat on as he watched her shoot. He took the the mandatory couple of steps toward the target-- but at this point it was just a formality. He knew the shots were all great, even without having to looking at them. "I'm telling you, you'll give me a run for my title any day now. At this point you don't even need me. You could put any Starkhaven archer to shame, and that's no boast," he said with all of his joviallity. Pride was beaming in his face, but it was always there when talk of Nostariel's training popped up.
Nostariel flushed at the words. Even if she didn't take them to be entirely true, they were quite kind, and frankly that was the point. Her smile, however, soon dimmed. She wasn't blind, and she'd learned better than most how to distinguish his actual happiness from the kind he had to flip on and off like one would a spell. It wasn't that he was being dishonest with her-- but she did think something else was going on, and it troubled her that he didn't seem inclined to let it show. Slinging the bow over her back, she approached him, clasping her hands in front of her and tilting her head to one side. "Something's wrong," she said quietly, aware that giving him the chance to deny it would most likely produce a denial. "Can I help?"
"And what makes you say that?" He said with a twirl of his brow and a twist of his lip. He locked his own hands behind his back and stood on the heels of his feet, putting on the best nonchalant air that he could. He must be slipping if he let it show.
She frowned, and though her arms came up to cross just beneath her chest, her eyes softened. "Because that's the smile you use when you're keeping something from someone," she answered simply. She wasn't going to say that she also knew he hadn't been paying much attention to her a few minutes ago, because that sounded rather odd and probably a little vain. Neither of which made it untrue, but truthfully, she was right about this as well. It was just one of those things you came to know after you spent enough time with someone. She bit her lip contemplatively, then shook her head. "Sorry. I'm being nosy, I know I am. If you don't want to talk about it, that's your business, and I won't bother you." It would smart a bit, undoubtedly, but he wasn't the only one who could hide things if he wanted. She'd always been a bit nosy, really, but it was worse with people she actually cared about. One had to understand a problem to fix it, right?
"Huh. I didn't know I had any other smile beside stupid," he said in a moment of self-recognition. He'd seen a couple of mirrors in his time, and stupid was the only adjective to describe that smile. Or silly. Either or, really. However, his shoulders did hitch slowly as weight was beginnig to fall on them. The look she was giving him definitely wasn't helping his own cause, and now she was making him feel guilty about keeping things hidden from her. Of course, he'd have to tell her soon, he just didn't want to. He sighed, and with the breath so too came off the fake smile, like a mask slipping off of his face. If he didn't manage to get around to it soon, it'd eat away at him and he'd never find any peace until he finally told her. Dammit though, he didn't want to.
"No, no, you're fine," he brushed off. He did his own share of prying-- and he did realize that he hadn't shared anything in return aside from an Orlesian wine. Still, even if he did admit what was going on through his mind, she couldn't help. He wished she could, but he couldn't do that to her. "I suppose I should tell you, hmm?" he said, rubbing his chin. "Shall we take a walk then? Mosey on to our little spot on the cliff?" he offered, extending a hand in the general direction.
Nostariel blinked, somewhat surprised. It was probably quite serious, if he was treating it this way. Chewing her lower lip for a moment, she nodded simply, striding to catch up and walk by his side. She hadn't missed how he referred to the place, and though the use of the plural like that would perhaps have otherwise made her smile a little to herself, whatever was hanging now over their heads effectively quashed that little bit of happiness. The hike was one they'd taken with some regularity, usually after her lessons were ended and in the warmer months, when some sun yet remained to them. They didn't always talk, but sometimes it was nice just to sit in silence.
They crested the hill after a few minutes of the not-so-nice kind of silence, and she settled herself down on the grass, crossing her legs beneath her, glancing up at him expectantly.
It was a few moments more before he managed to form the words in his head. A few moments more before they made their way to his mouth. All the while, he looked straight ahead over the cliffs. "So. I'm leaving. Tomorrow," he said matter-of-factly. Best to do it quick and get it out into the open instead of just letting it fester. The longer he waited the harder it would have been. But there it was. He was leaving. "I've been thinking about going on an extended hunting trip up north. You know, get away from everything for a while. Take a couple of breaths of fresh air, see the country side-- hopefully not get eaten by an animal." He could try to sugarcoat it all he wanted but the fact still stood. He was leaving. Tomorrow, with hardly a warning to anyone. Still it'd been a long time coming.
"You're... leaving?" whatever she'd thought he was going to say, it hadn't been that. She shouldn't be too surprised-- he was a hunter, after all, and he did take trips now and then to resupply, but this was unusual for several reasons. First, he hadn't told her about it until just now. Usually, she had a week's notice, or a month's, even. She'd sort of grown used to that. Secondly was the duration, though honestly she wasn't quite sure what that was. Long enough that he seemed this serious about it, anyway.
She didn't really know how to reply to that, and honestly she felt like a bit of her stomach had dropped out from underneath her, mostly from the suddenness of it. "H-how long is 'extended?'" she tried, finding that at least it was a logical question. More logical than the other one swimming around in her head, about what exactly it was he wanted to get away from. Those were dark thoughts, and she didn't like them.
"That's a good question," he said with a shrug. Even he wasn't quite sure how long it would be-- though he knew enough to try and give her a rough estimate. He rubbed his cheek and thought about it, trying to come to a decent answer and though there was none, he'd make one up. He couldn't just tell her until he got his head straightened out-- that may never happen. Until he had time to come to terms with himself was an even worse answer. Instead, he opted for something a bit more solid. "Through the winter months at least," he said. That was a good start, though what was noticably absent was how long at most and that was not an answer he was comfortable giving. He had no idea how long it would be at most... Maybe never-- though he hated himself for thinking about that. He hated himself for dropping this on her. He hated a lot of things about himself.
"I... see," she replied after an uncomfortable silence. The problem was, she really didn't. It was one thing to make such a journey-- she might not quite have comprehended the reason, but she would have understood the need for one, perhaps. But to not say anything until the evening before he left, and then only after she'd prodded for the answer? What would she have thought if he'd just up and disappeared? She knew exactly what she would have thought, and it would not have been pleasant. Then again, it still wasn't. She'd believed they were friends, close friends, even, but you didn't just up and skip town for several months without informing your close friends, if you did something like that at all!
She winced. That last was uncharitable. But she was finding it a little tough to be understanding, mostly do to the fact that, however irrationally, she was hurt. Sighing deeply, she leaned forwards, covering her face with both hands and pausing there for a moment, reassuring herself that this was not the same. She wasn't being left forever, not again. Besides, they weren't... it shouldn't feel the same. It shouldn't. And it didn't, not really, but it was too similar for her comfort, and it took her a few moments of controlled breathing, meditative muscle relaxation, to pull herself back from something unpleasant. If she hadn't been convinced already, that small gift alone, the absence of ungainly expression of her sorrow, would have assured her she was more indebted to Amalia than she could ever repay.
Dragging her hands the rest of the way down her face, she let them fall back in her lap. "Okay," she said, more to herself than him. "Okay." But there was one thing she needed. "Tell me... tell me you're coming back. It doesn't have to be true, but I need you to say it." She'd grown good at waiting-- if she had to, she knew she could wait until it wouldn't hurt (too much) to admit he'd been lying, if that was what it took. But apparently she wasn't as fine with being left behind as she thought she'd become.
That... Was not what he was expecting. He was expecting a why. Why was he running? Why was he leaving? Why was walling himself off with miles of forest in any direction. Those would have been easy to deal with. He could have just dodged those, maybe even lied-- and though it would have hurt to do so, it would have been easier. He was always good at running. But now, he couldn't lie. He couldn't dodge it. For all of his skills as a rogue, and as a hunter, he couldn't escape that single question. He might have been a failure, he might have even been a coward, but he was not going to lie to her. Even so, the answer took a long time to form on his tongue. He had always ran. He ran from Ferelden, and he didn't think he'd ever see it again-- never once had he returned anywhere.
"I..." he began, and though every fiber in his being told him to say he couldn't promise, he couldn't find the words. Instead, he said "... Will. I'll come back. I don't know when, but I will. I'll promise you that," He said. With that promise, he'd chained himself to Kirkwall, if only for just a little bit longer, for better or for worse. However, he didn't know if she'd like the man who'd come back. He'd lasted this long knowing no one else had to depend on him, but now that someone did... He just didn't know. He was... Scared. He just hoped he didn't make another mistake.
Nostariel let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. Something tight in her chest eased, and she managed a smile without having to force it, as she'd feared she might. She wasn't oblivious, and she knew it had cost him something to make that promise. It made her feel guilty for forcing it from him, but in truth, she couldn't bring it to overpower the relief that it had been made, and she really didn't want to gain that power, either. Standing, she offered him a hand to do the same. Perhaps it was better if she tried to steer them away from the topic a bit. "Well, it's a bit of short notice, but if you want a proper seeing-off, I'm willing to bet there's enough people for a party at the Hanged Man? I'll be the sober friend."
Ashton sighed and shrugged, a whisper of a smile returning to his mouth. He took the offered hand and pulled himself to his feet, though he was careful to use his own power and not yank her down with him. It'd be unseemly after the talk they had. "I don't think this warrants a send-off party. I haven't even told anyone else," He said meekly. He was planning on pinning an arrow with a note on it to Rilien's door. That did not mean he didn't need a drink. Oh, he needed one. A tall, thick one, with plenty of bite. But, truth be told, he felt a little bit better having told her. Of course, now he's going to have to contend with these thoughts as he left and that was to be a battle all their own. But, it was a battle for tomorrow. For tonight? "How about a party for two? I'll be the drunk one this time," He said, drawing parallels from the last time they were together in the Hanged Man.
She scoffed slightly, but nodded all the same. "Oh, very well then. Have it your way. But to me, it's still a sending-off party." Her voice was colored with a touch of facetiousness, but it quickly disappeared as she settled on something. Shifting his hand so that it was in both of hers, she turned it over and lifted it, pressing her lips into his callused palm. She would have perhaps tried for his cheek, but he was far too tall for that to happen without his cooperation. "Thank you, Ash." She meant it, too; some part of her had assumed that she was the only one who hadn't known, but evidently, this was the furthest thing from the truth. It was also an odd reversal of the first time they'd met, and this was intentional on her part.
"Well, let's go then. It gets cold at night, now."
Thunk.
Thunk.
Nostariel let out a breath and relaxed her arm, bringing the practice bow down and grinning over at her instructor. All three arrows, drawn and fired in quick succession, had hit the target in a close grouping, the last one actually a bull's-eye. She was making those with regularity now, though it was still easier when she had a couple seconds to concentrate, so now she was working on making it more automatic, by aiming and releasing in less than three seconds. Thankfully, none of these was ever a total miss anymore. A couple of years had made all the difference, it turned out. Well, a couple of years of careful teaching, at any rate. She was hardly ever sore anymore, and what stiffness she did manage to accrue was never long in staying, thanks to her other lessons. She felt like an entirely new person; it fit that she had new skills to go with it.
"What do you think, Ash? Not too bad, was it?" She asked. It was halfway from genuine curiosity, and half because, well... she rather liked earning his praise. Silly, maybe, but harmless, so she might as well.
On a stone not so far away, Ashton sat, using the his bow as a rest for his chin. And though he was facing Nostariel's direction, his eyes were turned inward to himself. When his name was called, he looked up and tore his thoughts away from whatever it was he was pondering. His own head tilted as he followed Nostariel's stance and arc, where the three arrows sat neatly in a cluster on the target. It was like this more often than not lately, she was getting better all on her own now. She hardly even needed his helpful words. He couldn't have been more proud and more relieved. Good to know that he didn't manage to screw her up. "It's great," he said, though the words took longer to form than usual. Something was on his mind, and it wasn't Nostariel's progress.
But just like that, the mood bounced as he donned the largest, smirkiest grin he could. With a flourish he stood up from his rock, one that he'd sat on as he watched her shoot. He took the the mandatory couple of steps toward the target-- but at this point it was just a formality. He knew the shots were all great, even without having to looking at them. "I'm telling you, you'll give me a run for my title any day now. At this point you don't even need me. You could put any Starkhaven archer to shame, and that's no boast," he said with all of his joviallity. Pride was beaming in his face, but it was always there when talk of Nostariel's training popped up.
Nostariel flushed at the words. Even if she didn't take them to be entirely true, they were quite kind, and frankly that was the point. Her smile, however, soon dimmed. She wasn't blind, and she'd learned better than most how to distinguish his actual happiness from the kind he had to flip on and off like one would a spell. It wasn't that he was being dishonest with her-- but she did think something else was going on, and it troubled her that he didn't seem inclined to let it show. Slinging the bow over her back, she approached him, clasping her hands in front of her and tilting her head to one side. "Something's wrong," she said quietly, aware that giving him the chance to deny it would most likely produce a denial. "Can I help?"
"And what makes you say that?" He said with a twirl of his brow and a twist of his lip. He locked his own hands behind his back and stood on the heels of his feet, putting on the best nonchalant air that he could. He must be slipping if he let it show.
She frowned, and though her arms came up to cross just beneath her chest, her eyes softened. "Because that's the smile you use when you're keeping something from someone," she answered simply. She wasn't going to say that she also knew he hadn't been paying much attention to her a few minutes ago, because that sounded rather odd and probably a little vain. Neither of which made it untrue, but truthfully, she was right about this as well. It was just one of those things you came to know after you spent enough time with someone. She bit her lip contemplatively, then shook her head. "Sorry. I'm being nosy, I know I am. If you don't want to talk about it, that's your business, and I won't bother you." It would smart a bit, undoubtedly, but he wasn't the only one who could hide things if he wanted. She'd always been a bit nosy, really, but it was worse with people she actually cared about. One had to understand a problem to fix it, right?
"Huh. I didn't know I had any other smile beside stupid," he said in a moment of self-recognition. He'd seen a couple of mirrors in his time, and stupid was the only adjective to describe that smile. Or silly. Either or, really. However, his shoulders did hitch slowly as weight was beginnig to fall on them. The look she was giving him definitely wasn't helping his own cause, and now she was making him feel guilty about keeping things hidden from her. Of course, he'd have to tell her soon, he just didn't want to. He sighed, and with the breath so too came off the fake smile, like a mask slipping off of his face. If he didn't manage to get around to it soon, it'd eat away at him and he'd never find any peace until he finally told her. Dammit though, he didn't want to.
"No, no, you're fine," he brushed off. He did his own share of prying-- and he did realize that he hadn't shared anything in return aside from an Orlesian wine. Still, even if he did admit what was going on through his mind, she couldn't help. He wished she could, but he couldn't do that to her. "I suppose I should tell you, hmm?" he said, rubbing his chin. "Shall we take a walk then? Mosey on to our little spot on the cliff?" he offered, extending a hand in the general direction.
Nostariel blinked, somewhat surprised. It was probably quite serious, if he was treating it this way. Chewing her lower lip for a moment, she nodded simply, striding to catch up and walk by his side. She hadn't missed how he referred to the place, and though the use of the plural like that would perhaps have otherwise made her smile a little to herself, whatever was hanging now over their heads effectively quashed that little bit of happiness. The hike was one they'd taken with some regularity, usually after her lessons were ended and in the warmer months, when some sun yet remained to them. They didn't always talk, but sometimes it was nice just to sit in silence.
They crested the hill after a few minutes of the not-so-nice kind of silence, and she settled herself down on the grass, crossing her legs beneath her, glancing up at him expectantly.
It was a few moments more before he managed to form the words in his head. A few moments more before they made their way to his mouth. All the while, he looked straight ahead over the cliffs. "So. I'm leaving. Tomorrow," he said matter-of-factly. Best to do it quick and get it out into the open instead of just letting it fester. The longer he waited the harder it would have been. But there it was. He was leaving. "I've been thinking about going on an extended hunting trip up north. You know, get away from everything for a while. Take a couple of breaths of fresh air, see the country side-- hopefully not get eaten by an animal." He could try to sugarcoat it all he wanted but the fact still stood. He was leaving. Tomorrow, with hardly a warning to anyone. Still it'd been a long time coming.
"You're... leaving?" whatever she'd thought he was going to say, it hadn't been that. She shouldn't be too surprised-- he was a hunter, after all, and he did take trips now and then to resupply, but this was unusual for several reasons. First, he hadn't told her about it until just now. Usually, she had a week's notice, or a month's, even. She'd sort of grown used to that. Secondly was the duration, though honestly she wasn't quite sure what that was. Long enough that he seemed this serious about it, anyway.
She didn't really know how to reply to that, and honestly she felt like a bit of her stomach had dropped out from underneath her, mostly from the suddenness of it. "H-how long is 'extended?'" she tried, finding that at least it was a logical question. More logical than the other one swimming around in her head, about what exactly it was he wanted to get away from. Those were dark thoughts, and she didn't like them.
"That's a good question," he said with a shrug. Even he wasn't quite sure how long it would be-- though he knew enough to try and give her a rough estimate. He rubbed his cheek and thought about it, trying to come to a decent answer and though there was none, he'd make one up. He couldn't just tell her until he got his head straightened out-- that may never happen. Until he had time to come to terms with himself was an even worse answer. Instead, he opted for something a bit more solid. "Through the winter months at least," he said. That was a good start, though what was noticably absent was how long at most and that was not an answer he was comfortable giving. He had no idea how long it would be at most... Maybe never-- though he hated himself for thinking about that. He hated himself for dropping this on her. He hated a lot of things about himself.
"I... see," she replied after an uncomfortable silence. The problem was, she really didn't. It was one thing to make such a journey-- she might not quite have comprehended the reason, but she would have understood the need for one, perhaps. But to not say anything until the evening before he left, and then only after she'd prodded for the answer? What would she have thought if he'd just up and disappeared? She knew exactly what she would have thought, and it would not have been pleasant. Then again, it still wasn't. She'd believed they were friends, close friends, even, but you didn't just up and skip town for several months without informing your close friends, if you did something like that at all!
She winced. That last was uncharitable. But she was finding it a little tough to be understanding, mostly do to the fact that, however irrationally, she was hurt. Sighing deeply, she leaned forwards, covering her face with both hands and pausing there for a moment, reassuring herself that this was not the same. She wasn't being left forever, not again. Besides, they weren't... it shouldn't feel the same. It shouldn't. And it didn't, not really, but it was too similar for her comfort, and it took her a few moments of controlled breathing, meditative muscle relaxation, to pull herself back from something unpleasant. If she hadn't been convinced already, that small gift alone, the absence of ungainly expression of her sorrow, would have assured her she was more indebted to Amalia than she could ever repay.
Dragging her hands the rest of the way down her face, she let them fall back in her lap. "Okay," she said, more to herself than him. "Okay." But there was one thing she needed. "Tell me... tell me you're coming back. It doesn't have to be true, but I need you to say it." She'd grown good at waiting-- if she had to, she knew she could wait until it wouldn't hurt (too much) to admit he'd been lying, if that was what it took. But apparently she wasn't as fine with being left behind as she thought she'd become.
That... Was not what he was expecting. He was expecting a why. Why was he running? Why was he leaving? Why was walling himself off with miles of forest in any direction. Those would have been easy to deal with. He could have just dodged those, maybe even lied-- and though it would have hurt to do so, it would have been easier. He was always good at running. But now, he couldn't lie. He couldn't dodge it. For all of his skills as a rogue, and as a hunter, he couldn't escape that single question. He might have been a failure, he might have even been a coward, but he was not going to lie to her. Even so, the answer took a long time to form on his tongue. He had always ran. He ran from Ferelden, and he didn't think he'd ever see it again-- never once had he returned anywhere.
"I..." he began, and though every fiber in his being told him to say he couldn't promise, he couldn't find the words. Instead, he said "... Will. I'll come back. I don't know when, but I will. I'll promise you that," He said. With that promise, he'd chained himself to Kirkwall, if only for just a little bit longer, for better or for worse. However, he didn't know if she'd like the man who'd come back. He'd lasted this long knowing no one else had to depend on him, but now that someone did... He just didn't know. He was... Scared. He just hoped he didn't make another mistake.
Nostariel let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. Something tight in her chest eased, and she managed a smile without having to force it, as she'd feared she might. She wasn't oblivious, and she knew it had cost him something to make that promise. It made her feel guilty for forcing it from him, but in truth, she couldn't bring it to overpower the relief that it had been made, and she really didn't want to gain that power, either. Standing, she offered him a hand to do the same. Perhaps it was better if she tried to steer them away from the topic a bit. "Well, it's a bit of short notice, but if you want a proper seeing-off, I'm willing to bet there's enough people for a party at the Hanged Man? I'll be the sober friend."
Ashton sighed and shrugged, a whisper of a smile returning to his mouth. He took the offered hand and pulled himself to his feet, though he was careful to use his own power and not yank her down with him. It'd be unseemly after the talk they had. "I don't think this warrants a send-off party. I haven't even told anyone else," He said meekly. He was planning on pinning an arrow with a note on it to Rilien's door. That did not mean he didn't need a drink. Oh, he needed one. A tall, thick one, with plenty of bite. But, truth be told, he felt a little bit better having told her. Of course, now he's going to have to contend with these thoughts as he left and that was to be a battle all their own. But, it was a battle for tomorrow. For tonight? "How about a party for two? I'll be the drunk one this time," He said, drawing parallels from the last time they were together in the Hanged Man.
She scoffed slightly, but nodded all the same. "Oh, very well then. Have it your way. But to me, it's still a sending-off party." Her voice was colored with a touch of facetiousness, but it quickly disappeared as she settled on something. Shifting his hand so that it was in both of hers, she turned it over and lifted it, pressing her lips into his callused palm. She would have perhaps tried for his cheek, but he was far too tall for that to happen without his cooperation. "Thank you, Ash." She meant it, too; some part of her had assumed that she was the only one who hadn't known, but evidently, this was the furthest thing from the truth. It was also an odd reversal of the first time they'd met, and this was intentional on her part.
"Well, let's go then. It gets cold at night, now."