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[Talia had been a whirl of emotions since she and Kevas had admitted their feelings for one another. She loved him and there was absolutely no denying that fact, but the guilt over falling for anyone so quickly after the loss of her home and hearth; the love of her life and soulbonds. Was this right? Was she supposed to do this?

She kept all of this under the tightest of shields, but there was one that had picked up on it and had offered to speak to her and she wished to speak to him. She was confused, but as confused as she was she desperately refused to give up wheat she had found, as unlikely a place as this boat was to have found it.

She stares at her communicator for several minutes before steadying herself enough to talk, her shields clamped down as tightly as she can manage. When she speaks, her voice is steady and sounds pleasantly normal. It was a shame that the one person she was reaching for would undoubtedly see right through this.]

Van .. could I meet you somewhere? I would very much like to speak with you ..

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Come down to deck thirteen. We'll spar.

I will meet you there.

[Securing her sword belt in place (the knives already in their new home in her boots), she's off and moving. She takes the elevator, though she's not an enormous fan of the moving box, and arrives shortly.

She steps out, gaze moving over the field of flowers. The sight of it never fails to catch her off guard and she smiles slightly to herself. It was so strange to have something this lovely on a ship that had brought no small amount of horror to everyone on a fairly regular basis.

Pulling her gaze away, she sweeps the area for a sign of Vanyel himself.]

[He's only a little later than she, his own sword belted securely in place— preferring the stairs has its price.]

Heyla.

[She turns slightly at the sound of his voice, offering him a nod and half smile.]

Heyla, Van.. [There is a brief pause and then.] Thank you for meeting me.. [She glances at his sword, a pang of regret at having lost her own before coming to the Elegante. The one she had settled on was balanced and felt good in her hand, a bit lighter than the standard issue Herald blade, but the best match she could find.

She had dressed comfortably, as she would have for any sparring match.]

Aye. I caught a bit of your fretting, and I thought I might be able to shed some light.

[He draws his blade and offers her a brief salute with it.]

Give you a chance to clear your head. Havens know, you'd have deserved a rest-break after...

[After being tortured, after the birds, the blob, and the offer. After everything. Van moves on, quickly.]

But no amount of careful guard-duty will replace arms practice.

[She nods, having known that he had picked up at least a share of her inner rambling the day before. She had stamped down her shields again shortly after his gentle prodding, but she couldn't undo what had already slipped past, nor would she care to. She wanted to get out the concerns she had about all of this and would feel better (she hoped) when she did.

He draws his sword and she moves to do the same moving to take a relaxed stance.]

We've all earned a break .. [She echoes, nodding again, but continues.] but you are correct. Nothing could take the place of a sparring bout. [She offers him a return salute then, sword at the ready as her smile slips into more of a neutral line.]

[Van stands poised for a moment, watching her stance, then darts forward in a strong feint followed by a lightening-fast strike. Talia won't be able to wool-gather through this— he's playing the game properly. Now is for motion and focus, the give and take rhythm of swordplay that's been drummed into the both of them for as long as they've been Heralds, trainee or no. A place clear of thinking and feeling, where only the body in front of you and the steel in your hand matters.

No death, no danger, only the next moment, and the next, and the next...]

[Vanyel moves in with no more warning that she'd expect from the Herald-Mage and from that point her focus shifts entirely. She knew, deep down, that Vanyel was more experienced than her; had years more behind the blade than she. However, in this game that didn't matter. There was always something to take advantage of, and if not immediately, then eventually.

She had years of Alberich's training behind her, though, so she gives in fully. The blade becomes an extension of her own arm, her fighting technique quite similar to Van's own hit-and-run. She'd never had the body mass of many of the Heralds Alberich trained, but he was no less relentless in her training and what she didn't have in weight and strength, she had in speed and agility.

She parrys, the sound of metal on metal ringing across the field. It was freeing in it's own way, fighting against someone that had been trained in a similar fashion. There is the sound of tearing fabric as his blade connects where her arm was a moment before, the tear in the sleeve earning a brief glance before her lips curl into a smile.] Well met.

[She doesn't stop moving, no matter that her body complains and nearly healed wounds whine about the treatment. As sore as she might be for it later, she was living in the freedom of the moment.]

[It's a goodly dance, and if it had been in earnest, she'd have had half a handful of chances to kill him, and he her. She was good, showed dedicated learning from a skilled teacher, but his methodology was born of life on the front line and hard-won experience.

It was, despite all pretensions to the contrary, fun. Van scored the first proper touch along her ribs and gave her a look— do you yield?]

You're feeling guilty.

[When Van was a raw sixteen he could pull decades-old memories even their owners had forgotten about, and right through their shields. He isn't doing that now, of course. More hard-won experience provides him the knowledge to guess at Talia's state of mind.]

[She hasn't worked up a sweat of this nature since her arrival on the ship and it feels wonderful. She had seen openings several times in their dance, as she knew he had surely seen on his end as well. Sure enough, a graze along her ribs and a look from her opponent are all that's necessary to inform her of the 'hit'.

The look she gives her own, a smile sliding across her lips - Oh, certainly not. She lunges, twisting her body to come at his side as he speaks. It's only the training that keeps her from losing her position or the motion of the strike. She nods once, nostrils flaring as she allows her body to continue as it has been trained while she responds.]

Aye .. I do ..

[She's not concerned that he's past her shields, knowing full well that she let more than enough of her thoughts out before. Her voice does not waver as she continues.] Kevas makes me happy .. happier than I could have thought possible if asked but a short time ago. [The clang of blade on blade and a grunt as she shoves him back.] But .. Dirk .. [There's that guilt. Hi there.] I'd never intended .. I loved him .. I wouldn't have thought that I'd be happy again .. not like this .. not this quickly ..

[And in this Van does the unexpected, swinging his sword-arm wide and stepping into her blow, past the thrust, to bind her forearm in his armpit and bring his blade to her throat, near the hilt. If she'd had a dagger, she might have countered it, but...]

A very good friend once told me, that it would be foolish to deny myself all love, having lost the greater one.

[He lets off, stepping back from the near-intimate embrace.]

Like vowing never to eat again, simply because I'd been denied the King's table.

[Talia can't help the sound of surprise she makes at his sudden shift, suddenly lunging at open air. She's not fast enough to alter her course, and she's no way to draw one of the blades secreted into her boots. She sucks in a gasp, freezing as his blade comes to rest at her throat, eyes a bit wider. heart hammering in her throat in a mixture of surprise and exertion, she is held there for a breath as he speaks.

As he releases her, she steps to the side, instinctively rubbing the place the cold steel was resting against a moment before. She wasn't afraid she'd find blood, but whether if was a practice session or not, it was always eye opening to suffer a 'death'. Made one that much sharper for the next run-through.

Her sword tip lowered, she considers his words. Was it as simple as that? She couldn't help but think that Dirk would feel that way himself .. she knew well that Skif would throttle her for beating herself up this much. Oh, Haven.. She swallows, fighting stance relaxing as she looks to him.]

I can't say that I won't miss Dirk .. [She swallows around the knot in her throat, stomach tightening.] Or that I'll ever be completely over the loss of him .. [Silence and then a glance, shields tightly in place.] That's not wrong is it? To mourn him while I'm with another ..?

Edited 2010-11-14 19:53 (UTC)

[Van looks away. He can't face that, his own grief reflected so clearly in Talia's eyes. He closes his own, and tries to listen to nothing more than his own heartbeat.]

Stefen is dead.

[It still hurts, to admit it, like a fist in his chest, squeezing]

But I know he'd approve. He would want me to be happy, and not begrudge me whatever love I could bear.

[Knowing Stef, if he were here, he might be just as happy to invite Remy to join the both of them and make a triad of it, the raunchy bardic poppinjay. Vanyel doesn't mention Tylendel. He won't, unless forced to it.]

I wish dearly that I could pretend to you that it would one day stop hurting, Talia.

[He looks away from her and even through the closed shields his grief is all but palpable. Of course he would know, she silently curses herself. Who better? Of all the Heralds to have ended up on this ship with, she is with one that would understand her grief possibly best of all. And twice over .. thrice if including their Companions, but that was altogether a different raw wound.

She'd not bring up Tylendel. She knew enough of the Vanyel's history, through the aide of ancient tomes and bardic song to have it puzzled together. His grief was real, though, and no story book to fawn over and she would not belittle that pain or press him fr information he was not willing or ready to share.]

I'm sorry, Van ..

[It's an apology that voices so very much: that she's brought up this pain so fresh to him again. Sorry that she can do nothing to undo the wrongs that were done to either of them. Sorry that she came to him for solace. She gestures weakly with her free hand, knowing well the pain that is so similar to a physical impact.

At the last she closes her eyes tightly against the familiar burn that threatens behind her lids. She exhales shakily, nodding once. She knew she could not hope for any sort of instant fix .. and she knew that she could not will away the grief any faster than it would fade on it's own; and when it faded, that there was no promise that it would ever go away.

So, why then had she bothered Van with this? Had she only succeeded in making him desolate?

A thought comes to her as she studies the Herald before her, a timid brush across his mind with her own to gain his attention. She swallows tightly and when she speaks, her voice is soft.] I do not know if you are aware, Van .. He was a Master Bard .. Quite possibly the best that Valdemar had ever seen. Bardic was still singing his songs .. they were still writing songs about him..

[His head snaps round to regard Talia in surprise. Stefan...he'd known the boy was a talented Bard, known his rank and skill, his steady Gift, but...

Stefan was celebrated. A hero on his own feet, and one thing Bards that gain that kind of acclaim do not tend to do is die young. It takes time to write master-works, to pen and play them, to spread them across the land. Van smiles, listening to her speak, a smile he's never quite given Talia before, low and soft and wistful, like remembering with loving fondness the last time he'd been happy.

Eventually;]

Thank you, Talia.

[Talia gives a slight incline of her head, her own smile soft as her gaze finds Vanyel's. The expression on his face isn't quite one she's seen on him before and it swells her heart to see him actually happy.

It's that moment where no words are needed to convey the emotional load between them. She understands what it means for him to know, and that it meant that much is more than enough to have given him that bit of relief.]

Are you happy, with Kevas?

[She deserves to be happy, to have what little joy they can have. It's a valid question, given the situation, and her Gift.]

Are you sure of him, and his own feelings towards you?

Yes, I am. [There is no hesitation before her answer and for a moment she looks a bit stunned at how quickly and how definitive her answer was. Her brows knit then and she looks down, then back again at Van before nodding, her voice soft as she speaks.]

I do not doubt his feelings, nor his intentions .. I .. I am sure, yes .. of both of us.

Then don't...guilt yourself. I'm not surprised that you're so much stronger than I, but I am glad.

[Talia feels her eyes widen in surprise as Van states that she is stronger than he and she shakes her head slightly. It's an amazing thought, but she hardly thinks it of herself.]

Oh, hardly, Vanyel! We've both of us come from different times and events. I'd never claim myself stronger than you with even the hint of your own past.

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[Commentlog] Awww, it's like he's gonna be sittin' there, celaning his rifle!

[Commentlog] lol!

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