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[scarsthatshapeus]

Teagan could feel Kaaras’s thighs twitching under his hands and the shaking hips under his mouth. It felt good, pulling reactions like this out of his lover. He wanted more, though. He was greedy like that.

He prepared to begin bobbing his head again when Kaaras asked that question. Oh. Oh. Well, never let it be said that Teagan wasn’t adaptable. He drew back, pulling off so that he could speak, and he pressed a kiss to Kaaras’s shaking thigh.

“If you’re asking what I hope you’re asking, then please.” He tilted his head a little bit into Kaaras’s hand, enjoying the tight grip in his hair and the softness of the hand on his cheek. “I love it rough. As rough as you want.”

With that, he opened his mouth again and took the head of Kaaras’s cock into his mouth. He suckled lightly, waiting for his lover to take matters into his own hands.

scarsthatshapeus‌:

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[scarsthatshapeus]

Teagan had done this before many times, on his knees in rooms, alleys, hallways, beds, once in a storeroom at Chateau Haine before the heist began. He may not have perfect technique - Maker knew that he didn’t - but he made up for it in enthusiasm. That was his fervent hope. Hopefully, he could take everything he knew and make sure Kaaras felt good. More than food, honestly, but now, he had to focus.

He hummed at the feeling of fingers tightening in his hair, loving it, and sank a little more. He sucked a bit, trying to make that lovely vacuum, and began to move his head a little. His hand acted in concert, helping with what he couldn’t yet reach. The other hand smoothed over Kaaras’s tense thighs, thumb petting the soft skin.

Inhaling through his nose, he sank farther. Oh, that felt lovely. The warm skin on his tongue, the stretch of his jaw, and Kaaras’s pleased sounds above him. Oh, this was heaven. Now he had to earn his place. He sucked a little harder before drawing back, stopping when only the tip rested between his lips. His eyes flicked up to Kaaras and then sunk back down as far as his jaw would let him.

scarsthatshapeus‌:

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[scarsthatshapeus]

Teagan licked his lips at the sight, mouth already watering at the thought of that length down his throat. Sweet Maker, yes. He’d been hoping of this for a while, dreaming of it even, and now that he was between Kaaras’s thighs, he intended to make the most of it.

Grey eyes watched Kaaras with a fond smile, hand steadily stroking Kaaras’s cock. The smile quirked up in a half smirk and Teagan nearly purred as Kaaras’s hand slid into his hair. Good. Fantastic.

“Absolutely. And no gag reflex,” that was a story not for this moment, “so I would be more than happy if you took advantage of me.”

He leaned forward and ran his tongue along the edge of the cock head before loosely taking it between his lips to suck. He tasted sweat and salt and oh, Maker, he lived for this. Looking down to focus on his work, one hand rested on Kaaras’s thigh, ready to squeeze if he needed Kaaras to let up.

@scarsthatshapeus​ said:  “You can pull my hair. I don’t mind.” - Teagan

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[scarsthatshapeus]

“You don’t need to thank me, Ser Jamie,” Teagan replied earnestly, “and no debt needed. You living is good enough for me.” 

I mean, I wouldn’t mind one of your famous smiles directed right at me - NO I CAN’T SAY THAT

Anders didn’t cast a healing spell - because they didn’t know Jamie well enough to know if he would be okay with that, not to mention that he was a Templar - but they let the healers do their work. Fenris gave him a nod of recognition of a valiant fighter, and Varric handed the man his sword. “There we go, don’t want to lose that, now do we?” There was no amusement in his voice this time. Family gifts were important, even if the family members were dicks.

“Where were you headed? I’m still working out what other people are still out here and need help. Maker knows that they’ll need it.”

Why is Kirkwall like this? Why?

Teagan || closed

[scarsthatshapeus]

She got him there. She knew that she’d got him there, but it was in her best interest not to smirk like she desperately wanted to. There was a little bit of amusement in her eyes, though, even among the relief that she wasn’t about to be killed.

The sting of the reproach was harsh, but necessary. She raised an eyebrow at him and replied, “That’s why I made sure to take the armour off, ser. I was trying to find some decent armour polish to clean it. Or soap.” Ariadne knew that was rather hard to get at this point. “I would give a lot for soap.”

The commanding officer glared at her for the impertinence. Shit. Time to earn back some favour, and stat. Ariadne’s back straightened before bowing. “I apologize for the disruption, Ser Jamie. Is there a punishment that you had in mind, or will you leave it in my commander’s hands?”

At this point, she’d go with just about anything.

scarsthatshapeus‌:

Part of Ariadne found it absolutely absurd that he would blame an entire country for what Ellaria Sand did, but the other part of her, the part still screaming with guilt and grief, knew that no one was rational when it came to pain. Her mouth felt way too dry, and she swallowed, trying to make spit where there was none.

Her mouth opened to try and come up with a defense, any defense, when her commanding officer came over and suddenly Ariadne wished that Jamie had slit her throat.

Oops.

“Got shoved into a pile of manure, Ser Barris. Didn’t want to spoil the Gold Cloak’s reputation by walking around covered in it, ser.” Goddamned assholes who heard the noble in her voice and decided that she deserved it.

Her eyes flicked back over to Jamie Lannister and she internally kicked herself. Why didn’t she say anything? His sister had hired her, for gods’ sake. Well, not her specifically, but still.

“Would you have believed me if I told you, Ser Jamie?” She asked him simply. “No uniform, no sigil, no letters of orders…”

Jaime’s expression was less than amused over the entire situation. She could have gotten herself killed, or worse, Cersei could have tossed her in a dungeon and had that beast that sat by her side every second of the day take care of her. He was annoyed, and it was noticed in his tense stance. 

Pressing his lips together, he did not grace Ariadne with an answer, because no, he wouldn’t have. And that was entirely on him. He was not a good person, and he knew that, and even he thought to kill her despite it not being her that poisoned his daughter. 

Looking back at her commanding officer, he frowned. “You need keep a leash on your men,” he uttered. “The Queen is paying good coin for you, and you’re representing yourself covered in shit?” He glared back at the woman. Any way Jaime could get himself back on top, he would try. It was true, this was his fault for misidentifying her and causing a ruckus, but he wasn’t about to admit that. Jaime didn’t believe in appearing vulnerable, or sorry for that matter. At least not to strangers who his family were paying.  

[scarsthatshapeus]

Yes. Yes, it is Hawke.

“Not a chance, Ser Jamie.” Teagan had carried Fenris in full armour out of fights, and that was a man who could phase through other people and solid walls, if he so desired. A wriggling Templar too stubborn for his own good was a piece of cake. He had shifted the man so his bow and arrows weren’t digging into his wounded side and just kept walking.

(Behind them, Anders was visibly trying not to laugh, Varric looked deeply amused, and Fenris was keeping a vigilant eye in lieu of laughing.)

“Your duty to the city is admirable, Ser Jamie, but as I have been told many times, you can’t defend the city if you die of your injuries.”

Now shut up and let me get you to relative safety.

“Varric-”

“Already got his sword, Hawke. Pretty thing, wouldn’t want to lose it.”

They made their way down the street, now that the coast was clear, and they walked steadily towards the Keep, where the healers were working.

Teagan || closed

CARING FOR STUBBORN MUSES

@scarsthatshapeus​ said: In a fireman carry over Teagan’s shoulders: “Ser Jamie- Ser Jamie- LISTEN, asshole. I’m gonna carry you home whether you like it or not. You’re not in any condition to get there yourself.”

The fact that someone had gone and scooped him up from the midst of battle had the templar scoffing and wriggling. Whoever had picked him up had a great feat of strength however, considering he was dressed in his uniform. 

“Unhand me!” he yelled, hitting the man over the shoulder. Jaime was embarrassed and humiliated as he was whisked away so easily. Kirkwall was a mess, and after the qunari had attacked, the streets were in mayhem. It was his duty as a templar to try and secure the city and make sure the mess of people were alright. 

He growled, though unable to grab his sword as he was carried away from the carnage. Yes, he’d been struck, and yes, he was bleeding and limping badly, but that didn’t mean he needed whoever–

Who was this man? And how did they know his name!? The blonde hair had him frowning.

“Hawke?” he asked. “If that is you, I demand you put me down this instant!” Surely it could only be Hawke. He’d already seen the man roaming around the city, blonde hair and over 6 feet tall. 

[scarsthatshapeus]

Part of Ariadne found it absolutely absurd that he would blame an entire country for what Ellaria Sand did, but the other part of her, the part still screaming with guilt and grief, knew that no one was rational when it came to pain. Her mouth felt way too dry, and she swallowed, trying to make spit where there was none.

Her mouth opened to try and come up with a defense, any defense, when her commanding officer came over and suddenly Ariadne wished that Jamie had slit her throat.

Oops.

“Got shoved into a pile of manure, Ser Barris. Didn’t want to spoil the Gold Cloak’s reputation by walking around covered in it, ser.” Goddamned assholes who heard the noble in her voice and decided that she deserved it.

Her eyes flicked back over to Jamie Lannister and she internally kicked herself. Why didn’t she say anything? His sister had hired her, for gods’ sake. Well, not her specifically, but still.

“Would you have believed me if I told you, Ser Jamie?” She asked him simply. “No uniform, no sigil, no letters of orders...”

scarsthatshapeus‌:

That was in not reassuring in any way, shape, or form. Ariadne could hear the bitterness in his voice, and the longer that bitterness persisted, the more danger she was in. At this point, she wasn’t sure whether she preferred the rage or this cold disregard.

“I don’t believe so,” she replied gently, defensive sarcasm slipping in the more she spoke. “Do they send sellswords after you for falling in love and bedding a priestess here? Besides, sending sellswords after me means that I was worth the effort to do so and I don’t think my mother wants to give that impression in the slightest.”

Well…she just said that. She swallowed, looking away for a moment, not able to meet his eye.

“I know you won’t believe me, Jamie Lannister. Why would you believe a girl from Dorne after what Ellara did to your family? All I can say is that I want to leave this interaction with my head attached, my throat unslit, and no promise of torture on my horizon. Then again, we don’t always get what we want.”

Her eyes snapped to him. “So what is your mercy? If you wish to kill me, then at least give me the dignity of going down fighting.”

Jaime scoffed. “They’ve killed for far less,” he informed her. This was a world of lies and murder. Nowhere was safe, not even the Red Keep anymore. Someone always had their secrets, and someone always knew those secrets, and hung them over their heads so they’d keep in line. Politics. More like trickery. 

“Your people poisoned an innocent girl,” he hissed. “As far as I’m concerned, I have little reason to trust any of you.” How silly it may have sounded, and yet he’d never forget what they did to his daughter. She had done nothing to deserve such cruelty. It was him, it was Cersei, anyone else but her. Now she lay dead and cold for the Gods to take.

He was about to take his sword back out in a moment of grief and anger, but soon saw an armoured figure.

“Ser, is this woman bothering you?” 

Jaime’s hand twitched, but did not go back for his word at the sight of the Gold Cloak. He looked between them.

“My apologies if so.” The man gave her a stern look. “Where is your uniform? Why are you out here bothering Ser Jaime?” 

“She’s with you?” Jaime’s expression was one of surprise, but it soon went back to annoyance as green eyes turned to her. “You could have said so.” 

[scarsthatshapeus]

That was in not reassuring in any way, shape, or form. Ariadne could hear the bitterness in his voice, and the longer that bitterness persisted, the more danger she was in. At this point, she wasn’t sure whether she preferred the rage or this cold disregard.

“I don’t believe so,” she replied gently, defensive sarcasm slipping in the more she spoke. “Do they send sellswords after you for falling in love and bedding a priestess here? Besides, sending sellswords after me means that I was worth the effort to do so and I don’t think my mother wants to give that impression in the slightest.”

Well...she just said that. She swallowed, looking away for a moment, not able to meet his eye.

“I know you won’t believe me, Jamie Lannister. Why would you believe a girl from Dorne after what Ellara did to your family? All I can say is that I want to leave this interaction with my head attached, my throat unslit, and no promise of torture on my horizon. Then again, we don’t always get what we want.”

Her eyes snapped to him. “So what is your mercy? If you wish to kill me, then at least give me the dignity of going down fighting.”

scarsthatshapeus‌:

The moment the sword lowered, Ariadne’s breath came just a little easier. She didn’t lower her chin, nor did she move. She stayed still, eyes watching him, and kept her hands away from her own sword. She knew better than to anger him, not when he held her life so firmly in her hands. 

Her expression was open. “I was running. I loved someone I should not have, and Dorne was no longer a safe place for me.” Honesty, careful honesty. Not even a lie of omission. “And I was Prince Guard. I’m good with my sword, when needed. In times like this, I think there are many people who could use a good sword arm on their side.”

She kept her eyes on him. “So what will it be, Ser? You hold my life in your hands. I would owe you greatly.”

If Jaime took her to the Red Keep, if he presented her before Cersei, she would be dead. He knew it. And Cersei would make sure that she suffered, simply because of where she came from. He was an idiot to risk that chance, but he was also an idiot to risk that she was telling the truth. She could be lying to him, yes? Dorne and King’s Landing were no longer on good terms, despite their more diplomatic leader. 

Her pity story did little to make Jaime care, but he wouldn’t have innocent blood on his hands again. Or at least, not right this moment. 

“I don’t need you to owe me,” he made clear. He was always so bitter, never wanting the help of others, and what was she? She had no name anymore, right? She was a wanted woman, someone would kill her eventually.

“Do you have sell swords after you? If you’re so important, me killing you now may just be of mercy.” Her people would surely take her back and give her a punishment befit to her crimes. 

[scarsthatshapeus]

The moment the sword lowered, Ariadne’s breath came just a little easier. She didn’t lower her chin, nor did she move. She stayed still, eyes watching him, and kept her hands away from her own sword. She knew better than to anger him, not when he held her life so firmly in her hands. 

Her expression was open. “I was running. I loved someone I should not have, and Dorne was no longer a safe place for me.” Honesty, careful honesty. Not even a lie of omission. “And I was Prince Guard. I’m good with my sword, when needed. In times like this, I think there are many people who could use a good sword arm on their side.”

She kept her eyes on him. “So what will it be, Ser? You hold my life in your hands. I would owe you greatly.”

scarsthatshapeus‌:

Ariadne was not the smartest person in the world, but she could make a few connections. Someone who had been wronged by Dorne, someone who had lost someone to Dorne. There were a few fancy people who had done so, but a person who could refer to the Queen Regent by name?

Shit.

“I think you may have me mistaken for someone else, Ser,” she said softly. She stayed still, not wanting to risk the sword, but her eyes watched him as soon as the man came into view. Blonde hair, angry eyes, bright armour with a white cloak…this is Jamie Lannister. Whose niece, if the rumours told true, was killed on her way back from Dorne.

Double shit.

“I am no Sand,” she replied gently, doing everything she could to sound rational and not frightened. “I wish that I was, only to mean that I did not belong to my family, but I am no bastard of Dorne. I am Ariadne Maren. Lord Maren, my father, makes his fortunes from wine. I was a Captain in the Prince’s Guard, but I have not been for sometime. I have two sisters, true, but they are back in Dorne.”

Ariadne swallowed. “I am alone. I came looking for work. I have no birthright to protect me now - only a good sword arm and a pretty face.”

Maren. Was he supposed to know the title? Was the title supposed to save her? Jaime’s anger and grief was irrational, and he knew it was. The thought of seeing his daughter in his arms, dead and blue, was something he never wanted to see again. And just because she knew… she knew that he was her father. Mere seconds it took for the poison to take over and the gods had claimed her. But if this Ariadne was telling the truth…

Jaime hesitated, his fingers still tight at the hilt of his sword, but it lowered. There was already a war going on, and he didn’t need to start another one. It was Cersei’s wroth that had him more concerned, however. If she was telling the truth, and if Jaime brought her to the Queen, she would be sure to die. Cersei would have no others from Dorne upon her doorstep. They would all die if she had her way. Jaime was not brought pleasure by killing innocents. Those who he’d harmed in his life were all to protect his family, and he’d do it again if he had to. 

Lowering his sword, he did not sheath it–not yet. He didn’t trust her. 

“Why come across the sea?” he interrogated, eyes narrowed as he tried to read her. “What work is there to offer for someone such as yourself?” And why had her family disowned her? 

[scarsthatshapeus]

Ariadne was not the smartest person in the world, but she could make a few connections. Someone who had been wronged by Dorne, someone who had lost someone to Dorne. There were a few fancy people who had done so, but a person who could refer to the Queen Regent by name?

Shit.

“I think you may have me mistaken for someone else, Ser,” she said softly. She stayed still, not wanting to risk the sword, but her eyes watched him as soon as the man came into view. Blonde hair, angry eyes, bright armour with a white cloak...this is Jamie Lannister. Whose niece, if the rumours told true, was killed on her way back from Dorne.

Double shit.

“I am no Sand,” she replied gently, doing everything she could to sound rational and not frightened. “I wish that I was, only to mean that I did not belong to my family, but I am no bastard of Dorne. I am Ariadne Maren. Lord Maren, my father, makes his fortunes from wine. I was a Captain in the Prince’s Guard, but I have not been for sometime. I have two sisters, true, but they are back in Dorne.”

Ariadne swallowed. “I am alone. I came looking for work. I have no birthright to protect me now - only a good sword arm and a pretty face.”

scarsthatshapeus‌:

@goldcnhand

This was…not what she had expected. Ariadne had never been to Westeros before. Dorne had always been her home and she had loved it dearly, but when your family makes your home unwelcome, then it is time to seek out new places and new experiences. Her mercenary company had ventured to Kings Landing in search of a contract, and apparently, she had been a bit too vocal about where she was from. Or something of the like.

“Ser, if I have done something to offend you, then you have my most sincere apologies,” she said softly, keeping her voice and head level even as the sword pressed into her throat. “If it is because of where I am from, however, then you have even deeper apologies for the wrongs that were done to you.”

She did not know who this was, but the armour suggested someone a little fancier than she was used to. Flattery was all she had here. She couldn’t even reach her sword.

Jaime’s first thought was that she was a Sand Snake. One of those bastard daughters of Dorne who had poisoned his daughter. The anger in his eyes flared a spark beneath the green as Jaime’s lips pulled back fiercely. 

“Offend me?” His sword pressed against the woman’s throat. “You and your people have done more than enough to offend me. My…” He almost said daughter, because that’s what Myrcella had been. She’d died right before him, lips turning blue as she fell against him and died in his arms. The memory was not even long ago, and he felt that torment, that loss of his beautiful Myrcella…

Jaime’s jaw clenched tight. “A death by my blade is not enough. I shall take you to Cersei, she’ll give you a just punishment.” A cruel punishment that even the knight would have to turn a blind eye to. 

He lowered his sword from her throat, but did not sheath it, it still aimed to the woman. “Are you alone? Where are your sisters? I don’t trust you came here all by yourself.” Surely the word had spread from Dorne, that the Sand Snakes were now wanted if they stepped foot on Westeros. How bold of her to come knocking right upon their door here at King’s Landing. 

[scarsthatshapeus]

Open Starter

“She’s right in here.”

The guard pointed into the cell, where Ariadne sat on a stool. She had a black eye, her cheekbone selling, a bloody nose and lip, and a sheepish grin to go with it all.

“Started a fight with the whole tavern. Ready to fight at the drop of a hat, that one. What do you want to do with her?”

[scarsthatshapeus]

@goldcnhand

This was...not what she had expected. Ariadne had never been to Westeros before. Dorne had always been her home and she had loved it dearly, but when your family makes your home unwelcome, then it is time to seek out new places and new experiences. Her mercenary company had ventured to Kings Landing in search of a contract, and apparently, she had been a bit too vocal about where she was from. Or something of the like.

“Ser, if I have done something to offend you, then you have my most sincere apologies,” she said softly, keeping her voice and head level even as the sword pressed into her throat. “If it is because of where I am from, however, then you have even deeper apologies for the wrongs that were done to you.”

She did not know who this was, but the armour suggested someone a little fancier than she was used to. Flattery was all she had here. She couldn’t even reach her sword.

[scarsthatshapeus]

There was no easy way to answer that. “Yes, we are bound. Many hedge witches in Rivain form bonds with spirits to draw on their knowledge and abilities, while allowing the spirits to see some of the human world,” she smiled. “Sometimes it is like having someone in another room, where you call through a door and the other can come through to help. In my case...we share the house.”

Compassion was tense, but Sekhmet worked steadily. “Compassion chose me as a healer. We work well together. Healing hurts in bodies and minds. Like Cole, in a sense. He is Compassion too.”

She tucked in the bandage and cast a last little spell to easy the pain. “That should help with your recovery. You will be fighting more bestias fantásticas in no time.”

Infirmary Visit

[scarsthatshapeus]

A little difficult was an understatement. Ariadne could navigate any market with confidence, but the moment she was put in a forest, she was lost. She didn’t even know why she’d gone into the forest alone instead of keeping to the roads. To keep away from bandits?

Perhaps she had known that she wouldn’t survive here.

She brushed off the thought, dragging the blade down the stone with another loud scrape, polishing off the blood and wear. “If you had been intending to capture me, I suspect our first meeting would have gone much different,” her smile was teasing. “But yes. My ribs still hurt but they will hurt for some time. I can live with it until I find a healer or someone who sells potions.”

There were things she could barter for that.

“And I am thankful that I found you. Truly. I am in your debt. Whatever you want to ask or have done, tell me and I will comply.”

Making Camp

[scarsthatshapeus]

Ariadne chose to be quiet first, reaching for a blanket and wrapping it around herself. She looked at his face carefully, studying it. No, not pity. Just genuine care. She sighed and had another sip of her coffee. “The Maker works in mysterious ways,” she smiled over her cup. “But I suppose it would sacrilege to consume blessed beans, so I’ll take them as they are.”

Let it never be said that she was a bad Andrastian.

“I may have to swing by here again if I have to sneak out again,” she grinned at him, a little colour coming back into her cheeks. “That or bring a thermos of coffee and be prepared for the cold.”

—✕ █ ▌❝Pride .. such a double edged sword,❞ murmured with a quiet chuckle, her order taken with the SKILL AND CARE of a barista. Like this is nothing new to him. And it isn’t, for coffee is far from a strange drink to touch his lips. ❝Consider my ‘ PITY ’ to be a side effect of boredom and an action of a good Samaritan.❞

A grim smile curls upon his lips. ‘ Heard much the same, eh? ’ He’s been too aware of superstitions surrounding the Imperium, but Ferelden has other enemies that SCARRED her flesh; what is Tevinter when compared to Orlais?

As her SHIVERING has been well documented, he strides towards the couch, curtains parted just enough to allow hazy morning air in. ❝Feel free to WRAP UP,❞he says, toe nudging one of many neatly folded blankets.

Newspaper unfolded, CASUALLY looked over as he drinks from his own mug, eyes lift once again. ❝Sacred, eh? So am I Andraste now? Blessing these beans with my magic hands?❞ A SOFTENED smile, however brief touches his lips. ❝Well, feel free to have more. I usually make extra.❞

[scarsthatshapeus]

“If they aren’t, I might be able to exert a little influence to make them listen,” Teagan replied firmly. There were some things that he was okay using his title and noble name for. This was one of them. He was even okay with letting Lyrian know who he was if it meant getting the other man warm. “And we’ll make sure to get a good warm bath going for you there. I am no substitute.”

He smiled a bit at the reassurance, tucking the blanket around Lyrian’s shoulders. “I won’t be too far. Rivers have plenty of game nearby.”

With that, he set off, bow and arrow at the ready for whatever he might catch out there.

scarsthatshapeus‌:

Teagan chuckled softly. “Just waking and you are already asking after my well-being.” So kind. He made sure the fire was burning and embers were starting to glow before making his way over to Lyrian, giving the man a gentle lookover. His colour was alright - not as good as it could be, but passable. An inn and a warm bath sounded like a better idea every minute. “I’m glad to hear you’re feeling a little better. I’ll see if I can find us anything to eat and then we’ll get going. If memory serves, there should be a town within a day’s walk and, with luck, an inn that will let us both in.”

The next comment made him still, and Teagan turned to give Lyrian a look, both incredulous and unsurprised at the same time. “I said it before and I will say it again. Saving you, keeping you alive, all of this was not a burden. You’ve become a good friend, Lyrian. I like to keep my friends alive.”

He gently patted the man’s shoulder and then rose to his feet. “Keep an eye on the fire? I’ll see if I can find anything for us to eat.”

Especially since they hadn’t eaten the night before.

LYRIAN WAS QUIET for a long few moments, allowing his eyes to linger upon the burning fire, seeing comfort from its colour and its flicker. A deep breath drew inward, shoulders rolling backward, attention then turning upward to his companion; “An inn? Let us hope that they are lenient on Elves-” Especially Dalish ones - he gained a great many distasteful looks and utterances around his person when he mingled elsewhere. It was something he did not enjoy doing, but sometimes life simply called for it and now was one of those times. Lyrian really could do with a hot bath and something equally as hot to eat - as could his companion, no doubt. “Try not to wander too far-” Lyrian uttered, stretching his legs and running hands down them in order to ease their aches; “I don’t mind finding something if you’d rather-”  

[scarsthatshapeus]

Clarice made a sound almost like a laugh, nearly a bark, and looked at the ground as she walked. “He is...not the most tactful, I am told,” she replied with the most diplomatic answer she could give, “although he does mean well. I am afraid, but I suppose I should try to be less so.”

Her steps were light, as if she was trying to make the least noise possible, to take up less space. She swallowed, focusing for a moment on the street ahead. “Are you walking far?”

scarsthatshapeus‌:

“Thank you.”

Clarice’s sigh of relief was audible and she immediately took her spot next to the other woman’s side, fingers knotting tightly into her bag’s strap. It was just the dark, there was nothing there that could hurt her (except for everything no, the therapist said to try positive thoughts), and she wasn’t alone going home. That might help.

“My friend says I am a bit of a ‘scaredy-cat’. My apologies if I’ve worried you.”

“It’s fine — really. I’m just a bit skittish at night as well.” Or close to a road — or in a vehicle — or anytime she was anywhere but her apartment. She noted the other gripping her bag, and she gave her a quick glance before focusing back on the sidewalk in front of them. “Your friend doesn’t seem very nice,” she finally answered, shoving her hands into her pockets. After a beat, she shrugged. “That wasn’t very nice of me either, sorry.”