#ret 100% has a thing for his hair and i can't blame her

[queen-scribbles]

18. Compromise (WotR; Rethelion/Ulbrig)

Rethelion had done her share of negotiating in her time. She'd never thought there would be a need to do so with someone she was sweet on. However, Ulbrig had been... not avoiding her, but seeming reluctant for conversation since that one night at camp. She suspected it had something to do with fearing awkwardness over his rebuff of her... intentions.

That wouldn't do; she wanted friends and comrades and his company even more than she wanted to pursue him. So, one night, as they camped in a rocky ravine just north of Leper's Smile, Rethelion plunked herself down next to him without waiting for an invitation. She rested her curve blade across her knees and smiled cheerfully as she pulled out her whetstone.

Ulbrig shot her a bemused look. "Need something, warchief?"

"Yes, I need to talk to you," Rethelion said, skimming the whetstone along the blade. Focus on the task rather than how the firelight deepened the red of his hair. "It feels like we haven't gotten to do that much."

He snorted and fidgeted with one of the beaded bands hanging off his belt. "What's there t' talk about? Killing oglins, losing friends and makin' more, having a drink... We're all doing the same damned things."

She nodded agreement of a sort with his point, silent for a few more strokes of stone against steel. "How are you doing with regard to your clan?"

"Startin' to wrap my head around it, but it's still hard to grasp that kin I knew as lads and lasses are grown and gone, even if the oglins didn't get 'em."

Rethelion cocked her head. "It is hard, even when you watch it happen. Can't imagine what a shock it is to wake up and find so much time has passed." She balanced the blade and reached over to give his knee a solitary pat before withdrawing. "As I've said, I'm always happy to listen if you want to talk."

Ulbrig still flinched at the brief touch. "We've been over this, warchief." He raked one hand through his hair, briefly holding the ginger mess at bay and letting her see the conflict in his eyes. "Relic like me's not what you want."

"First off, I was offering a listening ear as a friend, nothing more. I can do that regardless of... anything else." She set aside the blade and leaned forward, forearms braced against her knees. "Second, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I have a deal for you, Ulbrig of clan Olesk; I won't make any further overtures without some sign of reciprocation from you. My intentions and interest are clear, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable." She did want to run her hand over his well-muscled arms, up to rasp against his beard and... but she shook those thoughts away as counterproductive. "You know where I stand, take as long as you need to figure where you do."

Something like amusement colored Ulbrig's eyes as he cocked his head at her, hair falling in waves over his shoulder. She wanted to run her fingers through that hair so bad. No. Focus, Rethelion. "And my end of this bargain, Commander?"

"Very simple: you remember my heritage" --a gesture toward her sharply pointed ears as the clearest example-- "and the fact I have two and a half centuries under my belt." She snorted a laugh. "I'm far more a relic than you; old enough to have met your grandparents when they were youngins. I'm familiar with loss and know what I'm getting myself into. Keep that in mind as you figure out where you stand. If you have other reasons to object and don't wish to pursue anything, fine. But if that was the only issue, maybe take things into consideration."

His eyes gleamed in the firelight, and he gave a firm, deliberate nod. "Your terms are acceptable."

He held out a hand to shake, and Rethelion had to fight the urge to linger when she took it. But that wouldn't be keeping her end of the deal. So she let go and enjoyed the persistent warmth, hoping he felt the same.