The Burdens Between Us

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Log Info

  • Title: The Burdens Between Us
  • Place: Inn Room
  • Summary: Rune and Harkashan discuss their relationship and the many things that weigh on both of them.

Once, a long time ago, traveling through the lands of Am'shere, Rune and Harkashan had been nearly inseperable. Despite both being part of the same traveling party, the two were immensely close, usually sleeping in close confines and depending on one another through the trials that awaited them.

Things had been different since Rune's return. At first, it was the fact that she had purchased a separate room at the inn. A gesture that might have felt like it was meant to put distance between them, and... perhaps that was exactly the point.

However, somehow Rune was always sleeping on the floor of his room in the morning, curled up in her blankets. How she got there? Well, the rogue had always been good at sneaking into places. Eventually, she had given up those pretenses and they'd once again shared resources and living quarters. Harkashan had learned quickly that Rune did not sleep well. It was always fitful.

So, it is not particularly surprising to return to the room to simply find her gone. Her armor and weapons are still there, though, suggesting some intent upon returning soon enough.

Soon enough would come a few hours later. There is no sound as the door shifts open and Rune steps in, wearing her casual traveling clothing and with her hair damp. It seems likely she'd come from the baths and was sneaking in, well late into the evening. She undoes her belt and drops it with the rest of her gear, and then starts to gather her haphazard pile of floor-blankets together.

This last bit is less than stealthy, though it may be likely that Harkashan doesn't notice until she has unceremoniously sprawled herself into the blankets.


Harkashan has learned by now not to 'wait up' for Rune to return. She will return when she is ready to return. He has by far and large been giving her the room to get back into her comfort zone. Offering comfort from time to time, to let her know that his room welcomes her. From time to time, subtly dropping hints of his warmth, and her presence beneath the jungle trees with him in the past.

These rooms, in a ways, always felt like putting up more barriers. Softskins are so prone to feeling comfortable with walls between one-another. Separating themselves socially.

In earnest, he was glad when she decided to return to the chambers and started sleeping on the floor. Though no doubt that has been the cause of some of those back issues she's spoken of from time to time.

When she finally gets into the haphazard pile of blankets once more, making more noise than usual, the Sith-makar stirs. The bed is hardly made for beings his size, so his feet are sticking out near the bottom as per usual. Still, regardless of his irritation with the bed sizing, he speaks as his eyes open; "It is far warmer beneath these, if it is warmth and comfort you seek." A more direct and blatant offer than usual, as he slowly rises up to a half-seated half-laying position with his elbow pressing into the matress of the bed.


By the time that Harkashan offers his invitation, Rune is already laying her head onto her folded arms. It's obvious from her scent that she's been to the baths, though there is a faint scent of horse that lingers in her clothing. She liked to ride sometimes, even late into the evening, to help clear her mind. Her damp hair lays in wet strands across her shoulders.

"Mmm." The soft sound is almost sleepy, "Wouldn't the Death-Singing Dragon be disappointed that one of their clerics is inviting the dead to share their bed?" She murmurs. It's toned like a joke, but there is something uncertain there in her voice as well.

"Besides... I don't want to be presumptuous." Rune pauses, then rolls into her side, looking up at him over the edge of the bed. "We both know that things aren't the same as they were..."


"The Death-Singing Dragon might be disappointed if I were to lay with the likes of Skielstregar. But you do not reek of undeath, Rune." He answers her with a slow and lazy voice that betrays the male's tiredness - though his answer itself sounds measured. "And I do not believe the Death-Singing Dragon has much say in whom I favor and prefer to lay with." He then adds with a lazy rumble.

He slowly tilts his head as she looks at him over the edge of the bed. Indeed. Things are not the same. Yet.

"I would like for them to be the same once more, and to build from there." He tells her without a shred of hesitation. Though his eyes may be a bit droopy at the moment, there is a clarity of mind. "I simply... do not know what it is that lays between us, that makes it so they are no longer the same. I would wish to learn."


"Do I give the easy answer, or the hard one?" Rune replies with a sigh. She reaches up, running a hand through her dyed hair, rubbing at her scalp slighty in the process. It's a familiar enough gesture, one he has seen many times when she is trying to calm herself.

"Easy answer... I died, Harkashan." He knows this. They both do. "I carry it with me every day. In my mind. In my body. In my soul." Her brows furrow, "It's like a piece of broken Khazadi pottery. You can mend the pieces together with gold so it has the same function, the same beauty, but... it doesn't change the fact that the piece /is/ broken." That seems to be part of how Rune feels. Broken. "It will never be the same as it was."

Rune sits up then, pulling her pillow up so that she's half-hugging it in her lap. This, too, is a familiar gesture. "There's so much more than just that. So much that I don't even know where to start."


The draconic one lets out an understanding rumble of a sound when she sighs and fights with herself over how to approach this matter. He waits for her, patiently, and lets her speak. Bowing his head, or making little rumbly noises as she speaks so she knows she is being listened to. Harkashan isn't one to interupt someone when they speak.

"I understand that, in some ways, you yourself will never be the same. Every experience shapes us. There are pieces that break, and there are pieces we mend. Even if the memories never fade." He remarks, tilting his head a bit to the side.

There's a long and pregnant pause for a moment, before he speaks; "When you perished, and we were able to retrieve your..." lifeless "... body. I pushed back on the others, who desired to give you a respectful burial by taking you to the Pyres. Instead, I covered you, and cast a spell to ensure your body would not fade too deeply, and made my way out of Am'shere. I made a long journey, and delivered you to your father." He remarks with a tone that suggests this latter part may not have gone over well.


This is the second time today that memories of the past have threatened to surface again. Sometimes, for Rune, they feel like a dark ocean, all too easy to drown within. However, Harkashan's comments focus on the aftermath. The time which Rune has no memories. It is easier to deal with those moments since the nothingness of death carries far less weight than either the departing, or the returning.

She lets out a shuddering breath, "I... figured as much." Her lips press together in a thin line. "If I'd had your burial rites, it would have been significantly harder to bring me back, I imagine." It isn't something she delves too deep into. Rune has seen Makari death rituals in the past, and they are very different from those of her own culture. The ageless Llyranesi do not see death in the same way as more mortal beings.

"I don't envy you having to deal with my father. It's a small miracle he didn't try to shackle me to the library after I returned. To keep me out of harm's way for my own good." It sounds like the sort of discussion she would have had with him. Afterall, it's likely that her father held Harkashan at least somewhat to blame for her death. He likely also held Rune responsible, for being so reckless.

"Your people are very different from mine." She reiterates. "That's a more complicated answer." She looks at him over the pillow. "You live hundreds of years. No one really knows when it comes to my kind, but you'll likely see generations of humans and half-breeds come and go before you join your Death-singer." There is no accusation in her words, simply a deep understanding of his people.


There's again that slow nod when she speaks of her father. The kind of grave look that is meant to break a bit of the tension, whilst also holding truth. "He was quite... firm." He notes, not going too much into the details. Her relationship with her father is complicated enough as it is. Going into those details doesn't particularly move forward, he figures.

"They are." He then notes, when she speaks of his people being very different. "Though with my current profession, it is very likely I will not see my elder age alive." He admits, speaking of the duties the likes an Adventurer has. "Is this something that worries you? That if I were to travel alongside you, and see you grow old, that this will diminish something?" He inquires. It's not like he's not given this some thought in the past. Yet...

"I promise you, such a matter will only serve to strengthen our bond. I will not permit it to weaken it."


As he asks that question, if she feels that time would diminish something, it seems strike enough of a realization in her that she looks away again, pointedly staring at a spot on the wall. It isn't a particularly interesting spot, either. It's quite possible that this exact reason is one of the major ones that had her never taking further steps beyond a dear and close friendship. "Yes." Is her quiet answer.

"Not just that..." Her eyes look to him and then away again. She groans to herself, "By the gods this all feels stupid to admit now."

Seeming to steel her strength, Rune looks at him, "You and I aren't compatable." Her fingers lace together. "Someday, you'll want a partner who can provide hatchlings and can act as a nest guardian. That's not me, and I've known that for a long time." Rune motions a hand towards him, "Not to mention that partnering is casual with your kind. You're bound to have countless partners over your lifetime."

Then, with some measure of uncertainty, she admits, "I care about you. You know that." It's not a deep declaration, just a statement of truth. "And now I've also got Jacob. And I think he has feelings for me. Honestly, it's all really confusing to me, because I don't want to hurt anyone and I'm not sure I'm ready to let myself feel those kind of things."

Her voice drops to a quieter tone, "I don't want anyone else to have to deal with the shit going on in my head."


The male listens to Rune, quiet, patient. He doesn't judge her for her worries. He's had them himself. He's just had a lot longer to consider such worries and come to terms with them.

However, there is a tilt of his head most curious when she declares they are not compatible. It's a rare moment where she sees his maw open to interject, but then quiet to let her finish her words.

It isn't like he's not considered the idea of having hatchlings before. To stand with a nest guardian. But... he hasn't really felt that drive in a while. A long time.

So, perhaps unhelpfully, he begins with; "I am not the jealous type." Before he lifts his body and sits properly against the wall. Tail coiling over his lap. "But I have been alive for over a hundred years - as you are well aware. If hatchlings were critical to me, I would not have come here." He explains to her. "Nor have I bed much in the way of former partners. By the time I reached adulthood, the war against the Charn had begun. And that took over my entire life, Rune." He explains.

"By the time the second war had come to a rest, you came into my life, Rune." He tries to put things into perspective. "And I believe you have not missed my attempts to express my care for you." He then adds.

There is a pause. There is much to speak of, but he wants her to be able to get some words in as well. "But you wish for someone to care about you, do you not? You do not wish to travel alone. That will mean letting others in."


"I'm not really the jealous type, either..." Rune starts. "My father has always been fascinated by humans. Their short-lived time and how they see the world because of it. My mother wasn't the first and I doubt she'll be the last." It's a different upbringing than many, who have parents who pair-bond for life. "And I lived among the Makari for those years with you, so it was pretty common-place."

There is some relief though, at the prospect of hatchlings. "It's... not something I'm looking for, either." Rune pauses, brows furrowed, "I'm not against the idea of kids, but... right now? Fuck no. I don't know what Eluna wants of me. I don't even have any idea how long I'll have."

He has seen the haunted look in her expression before, and this time she manages to put a few words to it, even if they do not fully explain matters. "When I came back... it was like stepping out onto unstable ground. It feels like it might just give way at any moment and that's not a life I'm sure I want to throw anyone else into." She clutches the pillow tighter, "And I've been struggling more with what happened. Jacob might ask you. I couldn't tell him. I couldn't re-live it again."

She sighs softly, ducking her head further into the pillow now so her words come out muffled. "Everyone is being so nice. Telling me I don't have to face things alone." She pauses, clearly struggling for words, "But... I feel like a burden. Like not being able to forget just puts more pressure and stress on everyone else. It's... why I stayed away for so long."


He knows she's not the jealous type. Or at least, she's seen Sith-makar huddled up on him for warmth before, and read no change in expression at the time. So at least not a deeply jealous type. He simply nods as she speaks of their time living amongst the other Makari.

And a slight smile when she shows relief regarding children. Though she'll notice a tilt of his head when she speaks of what Eluna wants of her. "You believe the Fate-weaving Dragon has designs for you then?" He inquires with her.

A question he lets linger as he leans back and notes her feeling unstable. "I will handle it if he speaks to me." He notes in regards to Jacob.

He then adds; "You are not a burden, Rune. And I... similarly have not spoken of things because I feel it would be placing more on your shoulders than you already carry." Such as bringing her body to her father.

"As I said. When you are ready." He motions his hand out towards her. "I will be there waiting for you. Always ready to offer my hand. As you have so often offered your own. Like when you saved me from those bandits."


A long pause follows where Rune remains in that huddled posture. Harkashan would know well enough that she had lost her mother quite young, and her father had never been a very affectionate man. So, while clutching the pillow may seem a bit childish, it is one of those ways she has learned to cope and comfort herself.

"I do." Her voice is a whisper. "Before I woke, I remember reflections. Like a cracked mirror, each one showing something different. Joy and pain." Her brows furrow again, "People talk about seeing their life pass before their eyes before death... I saw it before life. Not just my life, but hundreds of possibilities." It's the first time she has talked about her return from the Halls.

"I don't remember most of it. It's just flickers of feeling more than anything else." Rune explains, "But I remember after taking those first breaths again, feeling like I'd lost something important. Like a piece of my heart was missing. Like I'd lost people that I loved. It's... hard to explain." It almost sounds like a dream. The sort of dream where you know you care about someone, and yet you can't remember their face in the morning, but you still have the lingering feeling of loss.

"It's why I fear the Sky-Singer. The pain of dying? I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy." Rune looks at him then, "The pain of coming back? It was worse somehow."


Harkashan doesn't judge her for her pillow-hugging habits.

Living a hundred possibilities. Coming back feeling like they've lost someone important. The male Sith-makar thinks about this for a moment. On a more educated level, he can understand what that must be like.

"I will not say that I understand what you mean. Such is a unique experience I have not witnessed myself. And in my many years as a Deathsinger... I have laid many to rest. I rarely spoke to those who came back after passing on - beyond the more undead monstrocities." He explains to her.

"But I can understand why you would not wish either aspects unto others." He croons, leaning his legs down over the edge of the bed. "Does my presence soothe your pain? I know that my being a Deathsinger must not be the most comfortable thing to you."


"It's... okay." Rune's voice is still quiet. "I don't really expect anyone to understand. It may very well be some side effect of how I died and was brought back. Something unique to me, to the Sky-Singer's influence, I don't know." Talking about such matters is clearly difficult, but more and more, with the support of others - Harkashan, Jacob, Telamon, Cor'lana - she is starting to find the strength to do so.

As his legs swing over the edge of the bed, Rune shifts a little so her back is pressed against the bed from the floor, her head not far from where his legs dangle. It's proximity without touching. "You were... always my best friend. Of course it helps. Just not being alone helps."

Then, she adds, "It's just certain things. Seeing those innocent dead strung up like that in effigy. Seeing you performing those last rites." A small shiver runs through her at that. "Those are hard. I... haven't figured out a way to separate the things I see, from the things that happened."


As she leans with her back against the side of the bed, he lays a hand down upon her shoulder. A simple single touch of comfort, letting her know he's there. That though she might not lean in to touch, that he will bridge that gap.

"We will find out in due time." He simply answers her with that typical sense of confidence of his. "The Sky Singing Dragon rarely does things for naught." He points out.

His body leans forward just a bit, instead of leaning back against the wall. A more proper posture. His tail lazily sliding over the bed to get into a more comfortable position.

"Hard, but perhaps worth facing. To know, those people are not you, and they deserve peace." There is a pause there for a moment, before he notes;

"There is a rare word amongst our people, that was discussed recently." He pauses for a moment, before he adds; "Cihuaa."


Rune draws one hand away from the pillow, moving it up to lay it over one of Harkashan's claws. The contrast in temperatures is distinct, with her fingers always seeming to feel colder than they should, especially against the lava-scaled Makari's warmer temperature. "Telamon and Cor'lana seem to think that there is happiness in the journey. I have to hope they're right about that." These friends of hers certainly seem to be a supportive influence.

She doesn't comment further about her reactions to his clerical rituals. It is likely not something reserved to Harkashan alone, but his have simply been the most visable as of late. The dealings with death that have come most forward in her experiences.

Instead, she focuses on this other topic. "I remember. Dolan was speaking about it." Rune tips her head up towards him. In how she is sitting, it does make the motion a bit awkward, but it seems important to do so. "It's something to do with relationships among Makari. At least... that's the jist of it that I got from context."


"Hrrm. Yes." He lets the topic of journey and death go, and focuses on the topic at hand instead. "You said that the Sith-makar do not form bonds the way softskins do. And you are correct for the most part." He remarks. "With how commonly our hatchlings do not make it past the first year, simply because of how dangerous the jungle is... amongst other things - familial bonds are less strong than those of Caste most of the time."

Most of the time. Most part.

"Yet, we have a term for those who favor a strong bond with a particular partner. That is that - Cihuaa." A simple explaination, followed by his thumb shifting on top of her hand for a moment.


"It's... completely understandable, given what your people have to go through." Rune doesnt judge the differences between cultures. As someone who lives between two worlds, she's seen enough of those between Human and Sildanyari. "It makes sense to form bonds with those who you're closest to, giving better opportunities for survival and for potential prodginy."

It seems that she is assuming the word has something to do with this, at least at first. That is, until Harkashan clarifies the meaning. "Oh." Pause. "I see, or... at least I think I do." Rune doesn't say much in the aftermath of that revelation, but she does lean her head a little to the side, her cheek touching against where his hand lays over hers. A quiet, gesture.


Harkashan leans in a bit, and shifts his tail to lay on her other side. Letting her lean against that extra warmth as the two continue to speak on such matters.

"Not too different from the Softskin norm, that one." He believes, as she leans in and touches her cheek against his hand. A quiet gesture. And one that doesn't need words to answer. He just touches his hand a bit along her cheek, then lays it back down on her shoulder. "Come, you are cold. Let this one aid in warming you." The Sith-makar then offers to her once more.


Though she accepts the touch, Rune lets out a sigh in answer. "Not tonight. It's... been a rough few days." The half-sil has had little sleep and that is making the emotional toll of recent events that much harder to deal with.

She gives his clawed hand one more squeeze and then shifts away, moving to re-arrange her pile of blankets on the floor. "I appreciate it. I do. I'm just... not really ready for that. I'll be fine here." She pats her blankets and offers a shy expression. "Besides, this way, the only thing I kick in the night is my blankets." She isn't a very restful sleeper.

It seems that that will be her answer, though, as Rune curls up onto the floor in her blankets. "Good night, Hark. And... thank you for understanding."