Private Tales Upriver

[Rayth Keirn]

"Don't know anything?" Rayth asked. "What a truly diplomatic answer. I suppose my accusations truly were unfounded."

Rayth had to skip stairs to keep up with her sudden change in pace. Her sudden accusation managed to draw out a wave of anger.

"Look, I'm not proud of this one," he said, his tone suddenly curt. "But no amount of goading will get me to set you free."

It's just going to make me feel wretched, he added silently to himself.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

"At least I'm not lying to you." Due to the new slit down the fabric of her dress, there was no need to gather the folds and fabrics in order to lengthen her stride. Past a crumbling storefront. Past some broken vases and pots. Small, glowing flies zipped past her and flew in a crazed circle before fluttering up - as if sensing the woman's agitation.

"Something, ironically, I'm sure you're used to doing."

He wouldn't see her verdant eyes seem to sharpen as she waved a hand wildly behind her. If he was too close, that hand might inadvertently smack him in the chest. Or, it would just pass through air. They were getting closer to the base of the statue she'd seen earlier from the Paragon, when they'd first arrived.

"So does that mean you're proud of all the other things? Stealing. Smuggling. Cheating?"

What was it about Rayth that made it so easy for him to get under her skin? She was usually so good at keeping her composure. Hell, so good she was paid for it professionally.

 

[Rayth Keirn]

Rayth grunted as her fingers flicked the straps across his chest. He tried to angle his stride to bring himself up alongside her, but she had this manner of walking which seemed to refuse to let him past her periphery. It was infuriating how she kept throwing accusations over her shoulder.

"You've never heard of the Paragon? Pah! We sunk the Dread Pirate Ruben's carrack off the coast of Elbion. We held the port of Gessinder from orc raiders from inland for three days before a retinue of knights arrived to take the glory. We discovered the Isle of Baneria!"

His tone slowly slipped from a vehenement rebuttal to misty-eyed nostalgia as he listed some of their achievements. He quickly snapped back.

"And when have I lied to you? And where..." he slowed to look over his shoulder. "...are we going?"

 

[Eislyn Gray]

"Oh-ho. The Dread pirate Ruben?! I find that one hard to believe. And even if it is true, does that mean you enjoy the kill?"

Eislyn cast him a sideways glance. He'd caught up rather quickly.

So. Infuriating.

"We are not going anywhere. I'm going," she glanced around, definitely lost. "Going somewhere. By. Myself. I know you'd find this hard to believe but sometimes people need some alone time. It's not like you have anything to worry about. We're stranded here."

The Captain had said as much.

"It's not like I can escape and ruin your reputation or precious status aboard the Paragon."

 

[Rayth Keirn]

"I'm sorry, should I feel great remorse for the crew of the Craven? You did hear what they did to captives didn't you?"

He could not win. No matter what he said she was going to find some way to twist it around. It shouldn't have affected him at all. Rayth had managed to remain immune to any of her barbs but suddenly they were catching.

"And...well...you can't! I'm not having you walk off and get lost or hurt. Because I say so. So there."

It even sounded petulant to himself and placing his hands on his hips and holding his head high did nothing to improve the impression.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

She had heard some of the stories. And it brought up memories a bit too real about the man with the grubby hands who smelled of sweat and stale alcohol. That unkempt beard that scratched against her face.

She shivered and spun around.

"Excuse me." The young woman marched right up to him, fire sparking in those verdant eyes. "Because you say so?" Index finger would come out and would go for his chest, a quick jab if he didn't stop it or step out of the way. Did he think he could just stop her?

"Stop," potential poke.

"Pretending like," potential poke.

"You care." Potential poke-poke.

 

[Rayth Keirn]

Rayth looked down at the jabbing finger incredulously. He refused to step away or take any action to stop her. However, her increasingly insistent pokes were beginning to hurt. He stammered several words that refused to line up into a sentence.

"Well...yes...because I say so!" he replied, finally rallying himself. He had not expected her to round on him so suddenly. Rayth was glad the others weren't here to see this. His confidence was shrugging back up at him from within his soul and leaving him to deal with this alone.

"And what do you even mean I'm pretending?" he demanded. He stool a half step forwards, pretending that the poking wasn't hurting.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

Ooooooo this man.

He would be the end of her, she was sure.

"I mean," finger would push against his chest once more. Blonde hair fell back and down over her shoulders as her neck tilted back so she could keep those eyes of his captured with her own. Didn't want him to think she was losing her nerve.

Because she wasn't!

"You don't really care if I happen to get hurt or lost. You don't care about me, I'm just a job. So stop pretending. I'm sure your Captain would forgive you, eventually. So if that's what you're so worried about, don't be."

 

[Rayth Keirn]

Rayth should have laughed it off and sidestepped away from that remarkably sharp digit. Instead he could feel himself rising to her angry accusations.

"Wouldn't have taken the job if it was to murder you. Of course I fucking care if you get hurt now!"

On the next poke his hand snapped up and caught her hand. Rayth immediately released it, but her fingertip was now too close to continue to poke him hard.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

There was a staccato rhythm thumping wildly against her rib-cage. It was the second time he'd caught her hand today. But who was counting?

A teeny-tiny amount of her anger faded and churned into something different. Surprise. Brows like golden wheat ready for harvest drew together along her pale skin. Hand with finger still extended didn't drawback. Or poke him. Instead, it rested against that damp shirt of his.

For crying out loud, how were his clothes not dry yet?

She had one question she couldn't get past. A single-syllable word escaped her lips. He claimed of course he cared now.

"Why?"

 

[Rayth Keirn]

His head leaned back from her at that question. Some of his indignation had gone, or at least it had lost its clear sense of direction.

"Well...because I have been ordered to keep you safe, because you are frustratingly likeable, and maybe - just - maybe - because I'm not an awful excuse for a human? Why don't you pick one? And why does it matter?"

He rattled off the three reasons in quick succession, but they were all true and all linked. He did actually like Eislyn. She was willful and had given him the first hint of cultured conversation in months. That led to the final point. He did care what she thought of him and didn't want to come across as a common scoundrel. He adored coming off as a troublesome swashbuckler, but he couldn't stand to have Eislyn thinking he was just a basic thug who just kidnapped people for coin.

Finally he was the one to break from her gaze. The anger still held his jaw, but it had given his eyes over to shame.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

Index finger slowly curled into a small fist. Clenched slender digits moved away from his chest and came to rest on her own, just above her heart. She was still very much mad. But maybe not very much at him. Or as much. At least, for the moment.

She got another glimpse of who he was. He may have fled his noble life but he was still a man to follow orders. Followed the chain of command.

While his eyes looked away, hers remained steadfast. Her tone was less hostile when she spoke, with an edge of weariness.

“It matters because most nobles have a bad reputation because they throw their authority around like a proud beer gut and treat servants and those who work their land as fodder. I refuse to be one of those. I refuse to let those who do that get away with it for long. Because I like to think when I negotiate it’s helping those who can’t do it for themselves. Those who are sent off to die like they’re expendable bags of skin.”

The pressure she put on herself was clearly more than anyone else would.

“Not to mention having gifts that I never asked for. Power more than I want the responsibility for. Expectations from a goddess beyond what my mere mortal mind can understand.”

She took a breath, still looking up at the...swashbuckler.

“When I’m interrupted from my path. When I feel like I can’t help those who can’t help themselves. That’s why it matters to know. It matters to me.”

Maybe this was the path she was meant to be on at the moment. Just because things didn’t turn out how she’d plan on this trip. What was the saying?

The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.

And perhaps she envied Rayth. He was free to adventure with his crew. Free to be that swashbuckler. Only the expectation of following orders. Not necessarily how he followed them.

“I just feel helpless and useless and I don’t like feeling that way.” That part slipped out without meaning to.

 

[Rayth Keirn]

Rayth's shoulders sagged. She really did have something of a silver tongue. He would not be dissuaded from his orders, but she managed to elicit a deep pang of guilt. He hadn't expected that she would have been able to do that given all the time in the world. It was a reminder that people got hurt during his adventures.

He had no doubt now that she might have been able to ease tensions between to two port cities, but it was too late to turn back now. The third party who had hired the crew of the paragon to intercept her boat would move in soon and the region would be settle again, though the local centre of trade would be shifted down the coast.

"I'm sorry to put you in that position," he said. He dared to reach out and place a hand at her shoulder, expecting another swift poke to the centre of his chest. "You'll get back safely in a few days and continue doing good. And for what it's worth I think they've stripped all my titles now. I guess that makes me noble-born rather than genuine nobility."

Rayth managed to crack half a smile at the sentiment, but it was clear that the flash of anger had burned his amusement away and she had replaced that gap with something else. He was telling the truth, that was the plan for the Paragon crew. Unfortunately their employer had other ideas. Which was why a small galiot was sailing up the river towards their hiding place. A crew with less scruples than the Paragon coming with orders to strangle the young ambassador and leave her body where it could be found by her crew.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

He apologized.

She blinked and couldn’t help the flicker of her eyes down to that hand on her shoulder. And for once, she knew Rayth wasn’t just paying her lip service. He meant it. How many captors were actually sorry about what they were doing?

“You continue to surprise me,” she finally managed. She didn’t move away or flinch at his touch. “I believe you,” she added thoughtfully. Eislyn knew it could’ve been much worse. She could be bound, chained, and gagged in some dark room. Rayth was almost making this whole thing a pleasant experience. Even if he was irksome and managed to get beneath her skin occasionally.

A lighter tone next as her gaze flickered down to his stomach. “And if it helps. You don’t have much of a beer gut to swing around anyway.” She didn’t smile but her eyes held a hint of one.

Rayth would find a light touch on the arm that was extended to her as her fingertips brushed across his wrist.

“I think I’ve worked up an appetite. Shall we go back now?”

If she was stuck, might as well make this best of it. The other option would be to continue to be miserable. And that didn't seem like much of an option at all.

 

[Rayth Keirn]

Rayth gave a slow, but firm nod. They might have stood on opposite ends of a bridge that could not be crossed, but they had managed to at least share some understanding. To gain some insight into the view from the other side.

He was glad that she had a suggestion for what came next no matter how mundane it might have been. When he ran out of important things to say he would typically fall back on his charm and a winning smile. The time for that had passed. It would have made everything all the easier if she hadn't turned out to be quite so strikingly beautiful though.

"Another round of dry biscuits and even drier meat," he agreed. He let his arm fall back to his side, but not without letting the touch linger a moment long, fingers skimming down the outside of his arm. His traitor hands did that on their own.

"I don't think Brin is going to forgive you. Though he still thinks taking the keep drug and being in a stupor through the next two days is the best plan."

 

[Eislyn Gray]

It was a good thing her dress hid the trail of goosebumps his touch brought out on her skin. But it was clear they’d come to an impasse. Each had their own duty to fill. At least she had more understanding into Rayth’s character.

And she was stuck here until the Paragon returned. There were no other rowboats and she didn’t think she’d risk it even if there were, given the Krakals. She hung back slightly as they made their way back down the path and winding streets. She was a bit turned around after her angry march and was certainly not going to admit as much.

“I’d imagine not all rum bottles were tainted. Brin is welcome to try and find out. Even with his appetite for thirst, it wouldn’t kill him.” There was a half-crescent smile that flickered briefly on rosy lips. “And the food may be dry but it’s not the worst I’ve had.”

Eislyn paused, caught between whether or not she should share more. Her relationship with Rayth was unique. They were caught on opposite sides of a fence. She decided to take a step closer to that fence.

“Try frozen, dry, and hard. So cold that you have to use your own breath to warm up a small piece before daring a nibble that could otherwise crack your teeth.”

 

[Rayth Keirn]

"I think I would rather he could be woken in case I'm wrong about those monsters. Brin fights pretty well when drunk. And that I've witnessed on...three occasions now I think," he replied.

An uncertain smile was starting to return. Rayth wasn't sure quite where they stood. His more practical side knew that it should not have mattered. She was his prisoner for a short period of time and that was all that should have mattered.

"You don't think it gets cold around the northern shores come winter?" he mused. "Was that home or somewhere you've been on your travels since?" he asked.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

Fingers came to tuck blonde ribbons of hair behind one ear. It was a casual gesture. Golden brows lofted about Brin. Eislyn tried to imagine the lackadaisical dwarf as a fierce and efficient fighter. She couldn't quite picture it. Then again, she hadn't met too many dwarves.

"Oh, it gets plenty cold but I haven't quite felt anything as frigid as the top of the Spine." There was something about the thin air too. Made it worse. "Just outside of home. It was," verdant circlets flickered to Rayth, "my first trip away from home. I convinced a visiting jester from Vel Anir to let me travel with him for a short time. If you can believe that?"

Fingers of what hand fiddled with the restored bangle on her opposite wrist.

"Does your Captain keep you in the northern waters during winter?"

The princess had no hidden agenda behind the question. She was genuinely curious in Rayth's response and found herself wanting to know a little more about him. How he spent the seasons. Steps closer to that fence. They were passing those glowing mushrooms again. Must be getting closer to the cottage.

 

[Rayth Keirn]

There was no urgency to the pace of Rayth's steps despite Eislyn's hunger. The casual conversation was a pleasant change from his usual routine.

"We sail where we have to go," he replied with a shrug. "The Paragon is a fast ship and can navigate open ocean and deep rivers. We get well paid to take on dangerous missions."

He smiled, knowing full well that right now the danger he faced was merely peeping Eislyn from going insane or driving him that way. Or at least that would have been all had they not found a nest of sea monsters below their hiding spot.

" A visiting jester took you up the mountain roads?" he asked, turning towards here and raising an eyebrow. "I assume your father was not pleased?"

 

[Eislyn Gray]

"Oh, my father," Eislyn took a breath, held it, and then slowly let it out. Of course he hadn't been pleased. That man was hardly ever pleased. He was protective. And a bigot. And still her father.

"If it wasn't for my mother, he might've had me in chains and locked in my room for the rest of my days. Well, until I was married off. She was the only one who could talk him down."

Was. There was something very specific about that word.

A lot of things happened after Eislyn got back from her forbidden adventure outside the fortress walls. Eislyn found out about her own abilities on the trip. Her mother had disappeared shortly after. Her sister...

"He doesn't like when things are outside of his control," Eislyn admitted quietly.

 

[Rayth Keirn]

"Then I don't suppose that being a prisoner again is a pleasant experience for drudging up memories. Or...I suppose having your captor ask you to recount them..."

Rayth canted his head sharply to one side, his tone brushing up against humour without quite daring to make too much light of the situation. She was under no duress to talk to him.

"And you managed to get away from his control by..." Rayth prompted.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

Rayth knew very well what she thought of being a prisoner. And she didn't think she needed to repeat the sentiment. She stopped quite suddenly. They’d rounded a corner that allowed a clear view of the harbor. Verdant gaze seemed to darken to match churned up emerald waters of a stormy sea.

They were almost to the path that lead back to their camp.

And in that moment, she really missed the sun. The cave was beautiful in its own way. As much as it was terrifying with the hive of monsters, below. Face turned to Rayth. After all this, she’d probably never see him again. It made it easier to talk about things she wouldn’t normally talk about with anyone else.

“He buried a daughter and I lost a sister.” Grief was still very much there. But Eislyn was not going to allow it to rule the conversation. Arms crossed tightly as if she needed to hug herself. Then, a small crack in her serious expression.

“I don’t think I managed to escape his control completely. Maybe just widened the sandbox. I could ask you the same thing. Did your family let you go so easily?”

 

[Rayth Keirn]

"For now they seem to have given up on me entirely. I have been formerly disowned. Whether that means they won't take any further action I'm not sure," he said. "They did try and have me kidnapped and brought back once..."

His voice trailed off. There was a story there that he usually used to lighten the mood. Dark humour indeed. This wasn't the place for it.

He met Eislyn's gaze and suddenly felt more sorrow for her situation beyond their current predicament. Being away from his crew would not be the end of her entrapment.

"Would you tell me what happened to your sister?" he asked. He knew that Eislyn was no damsel in distress but he always fancied the chance to play the hero. Not that there would be anything in his power to do that she hadn't already thought of herself.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

Eislyn wondered how old Rayth had been when his parents tried the kidnapping. She couldn’t imagine this happening recently. The man was too quick with a sword. It would be hard to get a grown man to do anything he didn't want to do.

Fingers tightened around her sides as Rayth asked a painful question.

She stared at Rayth until she wasn’t really looking at him anymore. “Hannah. She was named after someone on my mother’s side.”

Eislyn paused. While she didn’t agree with the majority of her father’s viewpoints, she didn't want to say anything that would put the kingdom at risk. The few folk that were accepted into the community of the fortress were treated fairly and had livelihoods there.

A small voice wanted to argue that Rayth wasn’t like that. Dangerous. At least, to her.

“She’d been sick for a long time. My father is against magic and mages, so we had only medicinal healers. But nothing worked. Hannah just got worse. That’s why I snuck out with the jester. I’d heard rumors of a plant with amazing healing capabilities. The Star Fire.”

Verdant gaze refocused to the present.

“Maybe it seems fanciful to you but we were out of options. And while my father liked to keep Hannah and I away from the outside world, he couldn’t. Completely. We had an amazing library. With an even better forbidden section. There was a reference in one of the scrolls about the plant.”

Her face brightened momentarily for this part of the story.

The nights before Hannah got too sick to leave bed. They’d sneak into the back shelves of the library to pull out different scrolls by candlelight. Quills were used as swords. Curtains as capes. The girls inevitably turned anything they read into a performance only for the audience of each other. And sometimes a hapless night watchman.

Her face darkened.

“I failed, Rayth. I never found the flower. Hannah died before I even made it back.” The princess looked away. It was a small part of why she put so much pressure on herself now. And the worst part was knowing that maybe she could’ve saved Hannah on her own. If only the iron didn’t run so deep.

For a long moment, the headstrong princess seemed lost and vulnerable. She didn’t quite know where to go from here. Talking about Hannah was always freeing and overwhelmingly painful at once.

“I doubt this was the type of conversation you wanted to have,” she quietly mused.

 

[Rayth Keirn]

Rayth had never heard of a Star Fire plant. He had heard of the alchemical mix as it was fantastically expensive but very effective to use against ships in lose combat. A single vial could set a vessel ablaze in minutes. He watched her hands fiddle with anxiety at the painful memories and wished that he could still them with a gentle touch.

"Perhaps not," he replied. "It has thoroughly ruined my notion of charming the beautiful princess," he joked. There was little humour in his voice and there was sorrow in his smile.

"I am...not quite the scoundrel I like to make out that I am. I won't go telling others about your past." Rayth did not know why he felt the need to explain this when she was already delving into such personal moments.

"It was not fair for such a burden to fall upon your shoulders," he said. "I'm sure there are more to blame than your father for his stubborn views but that was too much weight for you to carry. You tried and I am sure your sister would have been proud that you went to such lengths. When you live a sheltered life, striking out on your own can be...well...terrifying. But you did that for her."

He pictured her as a girl being drawn in by the fanciful stories. A few hundred miles away would have been a young Rayth Keirn sitting wide eyed for a troupe of actors and imagining his own freedom.

"What was Hannah like?" Rayth asked quietly. He leaned slightly closer. Close enough that she would be able to smell the smoke of the fire on his clothes and the subtle scent of freshwater in his hair.