(Backdated entry.)
She was here. Ourna was back and sitting right next to him at the little round table in the inn common room. Several times, Tremaen wanted to reach out and touch her, lay a hand on an arm, something, just to make sure. Lucky chance brought the horses to her, lucky chance let him see his own Winterwind first. So much luck was fleeting. He wanted tangible proof that she wasn't some spirit twisted out by his mind. But, she rarely showed him any favor in front of others and he respected that. She was a leader now, so much more than she was with the militia. Therefore, he contented himself to staring.
Tremaen sat quietly, dying to ask a thousand questions of what happened to her. Something to explain the far away and sad look her face took on in the silent moments, but he restrained. She asked Tonanti to go look in on their enemies after what had gone on with those she'd left behind had been told. Asked. Had something made her, of all people, cautious?
The other left, and they were alone. He watched her pick at her food, and Tremaen risked a hand out to touch her forearm. She was solid and real, but her look was still somewhere else. “Are you sure you're all right?” He asked her softly.
She covered his hand with one of hers, a familiar touch that made him want to smile. “I'm…yes, I am. I just….”
Tremaen used his free hand to almost unconsciously shift one of his thigh sheaths so the long knives would be free of the table, should he need them, as he scooted his chair a touch closer to Ourna's. He hardly even noticed them anymore. “You can tell me anything. You know that.” Anything at all, including admitting to the sign that could mark her brow now. He wasn't certain how much that had changed her, but he was certain she was still Ourna.
She smiled softly at him. Tremaen thought there was some sadness there as well, maybe something that looked like fear, but the last had to be imagination. “I know. It's just too near, I think. Almost unreal. It's not that I don't want to tell you…”
“I understand.” Tremaen smiled back at her, resisting the urge to brush a stray hair from her face. He always had to keep in mind what the boundaries were now.
“In time, Trey.” She removed her hand from his and sighed.
“All that you need.”
They sat in silence for a while before she spoke again. “Do you ever think what might have been? What would have become of your plans for..anything?” She sounded so painfully wistful.
He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head. I was going to take you out for a ride, he thought, right after Calibration. I was going to make a present of an amulet, but that got stolen, I think. I was going to bring out that old quilt and stretch it on the ground with a basket of berries and mother's sweet cream. I was going to tell you, no matter what you might have said, I was going to tell you what I can't tell you now. All he said, though, was, “No. With my life, and my curse, I can't look forward and I can't regret.” If only that were true.
“That must be nice.” He opened his eyes and turned to her again, starting to say something, but was stopped short by her throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing him tightly. “I missed you, old friend. I can't tell you how much.”
His eyes closed again, almost on their own volition and he nuzzled his nose in her hair. Maybe, maybe he could do it. Maybe it could still work now. “I missed you too. I kept saying you'd be back, mostly to keep myself from insanity. I don't know what I would do if I lost you, on top of everything else.”
Ourna disengaged herself from him, though he did not want to let go. He almost stopped resisting the urge to try to kiss her, until she spoke again. “I trust you, you know that? Beyond anyone else.”
He settled back in his chair and smiled a bit sadly back at her. “I know. Best friend and right hand.” And that was why. The morning Jiulan left, he'd signed up, volunteered, whatever it was that soldiery did. He could press his claim with the woman he loved, but not with the General he followed. He knew he didn't have the…gifts…the others did, yet he was the one at her side. He was well aware that she might order him out to die, and that he would do it. Friendship, that was allowed. She needed it, someone to help her clear her head, not to cloud it further.
He forced himself to grin at her and playfully poke her side. “Well, enough of that, General. We have work to do.”
She laughed at him, full and honest, swatting his hand away. “Don't call me that. But you're right. I guess I've gotten to slack off long enough.”