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ooc: Posting for Mistral since she's unable to get on IW at the moment. This is only so dplax doesn't think I'm talking to myself. [img]tongue.gif[/img]
She had guessed by the look in his eyes and his earlier apology that this was no fairytale that had a perfect ending. She had braced herself for a tale of hardship in which Altair might have suffered a good many beatings under more experienced adventurers and risked his life in foolish dreams of treasure-finding. That much she had prepared herself for, comforting herself that Altair was the manlier for all these trials and lessons he had had to learn.
When his story took a twisted turn such as he had described, however, she found herself fighting a tidal wave of distress. This was the Altair she was facing now… a murderer, a brigand and a liar! She could not deny it, even if she had wanted to – it had come straight from his mouth.
Eyes glistening with sorrow, she gazed upon his averted face. Can I bring myself to forgive him for his sins? But this thought alone punched her stomach so that she doubled over, breathless. How can I not forgive him? He could have easily fooled her, given his skills at deception. Yet he had chosen to reveal the unvarnished truth about himself, just as he had. That alone should be sufficient to satisfy her. What more the fact that he was now all alone, away from family, Berad whom he had cared for dearly and who was gone. How many trusted friends had he? How many times had he shared his grim experiences?
Courage, Robyn. She had never lacked this; it must support her now just as she must rally around her friend.
Friend. She had had plenty of friends… or had they been acquaintances, ghosts who flitted in and out of her life? They had not touched her heart the way Altair had, and certainly they had never played a part in her dreams and nightmares. Altair. Just pronouncing his name split open the unseen wound in her heart, and it bled profusely. For whom did it bleed for?
Looking at him, she began to understand that it was for the both of them.
Not trusting herself to speak, she crept closer to him and rested her left hand upon his back. A long pause ensued. Then, she addressed him, her voice trembling. “Your stories have taken a dark turn, Altair.” She withdrew her hand, seeking warmth in clasping her fingers together. “In forgetting them, I would be in self-denial as to your exploits.” Her hands were suddenly fascinating, so hard did she stare at them. “In denouncing them, I would be assuming a higher moral ground – which I am hardly entitled to, with my own faults.” Raising her head at length, she went on. “I have to accept your past, Altair, just as you have to accept mine.”
Why was acceptance so painful? “I cannot undo the deeds for which we hang our heads in shame, Altair. But I know that we have a choice.” She was gaining strength in the tone of her voice, where there seemed to be a light at the end of the tunnel. “We can decide how we want to live our lives, from now on.” Impulsively, she grabbed his hand and knelt before him so that they were facing each other.
“Shall we strive for happiness, Altair? I don’t think we have reached the point of no return.” Her heart was pounding from the exertion, and she gripped his fingers. “Please help me to believe in ourselves.” Inwardly, she thanked the gods that she did not have so many people whom she cared for so deeply. This current experience was half-killing her.
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