A kiss is just a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh

Co-written by stephena and wixspartan

Sorrel swings down from the dusty merchant’s wagon with a cheery shout of thanks, looks up at the pink walls of Fort Ettin, clears her throat, squares her shoulders, turns and walks away, walks back, stares at the entrance, shakes her head, balls her right first and punches her left hand a few times before rubbing her tired eyes and finally stepping over the threshold.

The usual mayhem greets her - the strong smell of sweat, alcohol, magical fumes and fizzing hormones - as do Colls eyes.

He raises an eyebrow, and she has to make her way towards him, dodging the odd fistfight and an out of control imp familiar or two, under his sardonic gaze.

"Um, Coll, how's things? Business good? Redecoration plans or anything?” Coll shakes his head slowly. “No? Good... good..." she trails off.

He waits.

"So... Silvia," she begins, and he bursts out laughing.

"I win my bet," he says. "Four solid weeks. They all said you'd be back within the month but... anyway, she's in her room."

Sorrel looks around uncertainly. Based on the letter and the conversations she's been having she suspects there will be views exchanged. Perhaps she'd be safer in public...

All the while she is aware of Coll's wry grin.

"And where would that be?" she ventures finally.

Coll shrugs apologetically. "I can't give out guest information."

"Coll..." Sorrel sighs. "It's me."

"It looks like you for sure," Coll shakes his head. "But if I had a copper piece for every polymorphed gatecrasher I'd thrown out I'd own Daring Heights. I can send a message."

Sorrel nods. "Just tell her I'm here and I'd like to see her," she gives an awkward shrug and feels the rustle of the unseen messenger disappearing upstairs.

After a couple of slow minutes pass Sorrel catches sight of Silvia’s red hair poking from behind the door to the great hall.

Suddenly it disappears before being replaced by what is recognisably Silvia’s eyes. Their eyes meet for a staggeringly long second before Silvia nervously disappears again.

Sorrel half raises a hand in greeting then lets it drop. She scratches her head and turns to Coll.

"This is your problem Darkfire, don't ask me," he shrugs.

"I thought if you worked behind a bar you gained wisdom beyond your years," Sorrel gives a half smile.

"I have lived for a great many years, youngster, and gained wisdom far beyond anything you can imagine and trust me affairs of the heart get more complex the more wisdom I gain." Coll shakes his head. "You're on your own."

Out of the corner of her eye Sorrel watches as Silvia slips into the great hall and begins sneaking towards her with exaggerated care.

She must think she can’t be seen, Sorrel realises.

“What was that wine Sylvia ordered last time? With the table and the candle?” Sorrel fumbles for some gold. “A bottle of that. Or… unless you have any Thorian brandy? I had a 20 year old bottle recently and…” Sorrel sighs. “I was like being kissed. You don’t have a 25 year?”

Coll whistles softly. “25 year would be 150 gold for the bottle,” he raises an eyebrow.

Sorrel considers this.

“That’s fair, but it is an acquired taste,” she hands over a small leather purse. “Keep me a bottle behind the bar Coll, but for now just the wine. Same table. Could you clear it?”

Coll nods, waves a hand and the three drunk half orcs at Sorrel and Sylvia’s old table find themselves on the other side of the room.

Sorrel takes a seat and waits. She can feel as Silvia stalk behind her before suddenly wrapping her arms around her neck and shoulders in a hug. Silvia’s voice is joking in her ear. “The great Sorrel Darkfire ambushed. Must have been a long adventure. Or… more likely you were humouring my attempts because you love me. I’ve missed you Sorrel…”

“I’ve missed you Silvia,” Sorrel turns and hugs her. “I’m sorry.”

“Where were you Sorrel? You were gone for two weeks.”

“It’s a long story,” Sorrel thanks Coll and pours two glasses. “And not massively interesting. The point is why I left.”

Silvia sits down across from her. “The letter was lacking good reasoning yes.”

“It wasn’t about reason,” Sorrel looks lost for a moment. “It was about everything but reason. I’ve thought about you a lot while I’ve been gone. I have a whole big explanation and it is all true but every time I tell you in my head you don’t… I don’t know. I thought you might understand the terrors of an infestation. I sleep with a sword under my pillow and on bad nights I am dangerous to myself let alone you. And there is the responsibility, my duty of care to you is so important. My feelings are so strong but I’m so scared.”

“I know Sorrel, I know. But it’s ok, I’m not scared of you because, and this may be a surprise, I love you. So please, don’t run because I need you here more than elsewhere.”

Sorrel gazes at Silvia with a longing so powerful it feels like her whole body is aching. "I believe you. Love is... difficult for me." She pauses. "How long have you got?"

“Time. Lots of it. We have a lot to talk about and a full bottle of wine to go through.”

"People with happy families rarely become adventurers," Sorrel begins. "Me, my parents sold me about a week after I was born. They told me when I was four years old – on my sixteenth birthday the House would collect me. I kind of developed a few issues after that." Sorrel frowns briefly. "I have always relied on myself and no-one else. The only relationships I have trusted have been based on transactions. On those rare occasions when I have let me guard down long enough to let someone in, they have lied to me, let me down or died. It discourages commitment. And I am scared of you for that reason."

She looks deep into Silvia's eyes for a long, silent moment.

"I have also been unsettled since the Hunger Spirit – the infestation returns in my dreams, and I strike out. I am scared for you for that reason," she smiles, although it doesn't reach her eyes. "And I am a soldier, Sylvia, a mercenary," she shrugs. "I am used to rough company, and I like… I have found…. My tastes are… I am trying to find a way to say that I am not the ideal person to be your first lover." She tries to blush, unsuccessfully.

"And finally," she says with a quiet pride. "I am as you say a murderer. A peripatetic killer for money. And I like my job. I’m good at it and I don’t want to change. So here are my cards all laid out – I don’t trust emotions or people, I fear love and commitment, I enjoy violence and adventure and I want to do some truly terrible things to your body." Sorrel pauses and lets everything sink in. "As your friend and as someone who owes you their life, my advice to you is simple – Sorrel Darkfire is without question the worst thing that could happen to you. Be my friend. Be the closest person in all the world to me. But loving me will hurt you in so many ways. Admittedly some of them good, but I’m not sure it balances out."

“Alright then Sorrel. I’ll stop loving you, if that’s what you really want, but I can’t promise you that won’t hurt worse than anything you could ever do to me.” Silvia’s eyes betray just how hard the words were to say but she stays strong and matches Sorrel’s gaze

Sorrel watches Silvia, her heart breaking. All she wants to do is reach out and hold her. And then take her to bed. But this girl is so precious to her. She remembers how softly her skin brushed her face as she manacled her in the forest clearing. She remembers lying next to her in the field, hearing her whisper her name.

"Silvia, how would we do this?" she asks finally. "I am not the girlfriend experience. I am the difficult borderline personality disorder commitmentphobe experience. I've had half of Kantas tell me off for running away from you over the past three weeks and I wasn't even really running away from you. I am not the cottage and baking in the kitchen type - I'm not even an Oziah and Delilah room in a fort type. I am a partner in crime. I'm someone you can drink with, fight with, fuck with and work with. I come alive on the road. I don't cuddle in bed all day. I don't want to walk away from this. But I don't know how to do relationships."

Silvia leans back and sips slowly. “And I’m the type to wake up with three dead sheep in the local pasture and some very concerned citizens asking me to leave before I start killing them instead of sheep. Sorrel please, I don’t want to lose you, you’re the only person I have loved up until this point and with everything that has happened recently I just want to spend time with you. If that means fighting, drinking, working and yes fucking then so be it that’s what I’ll do. Now drink, we have a lot to talk about. How was the forest? Or are we not able to talk about that?”

Sorrel shivers and her eyes darken. "The forest..." her voice drifts. "That forest triggered a lot of things I thought I'd buried years ago."

Silvia places her hand on Sorrel’s “Then we don’t have to speak about it. I’ll tell you about what’s happened to me whilst you were gone.”

“Where do I start… I told you about the cloak in my letter. Well as it turns out it was cursed, and it quickly had its claws in me. I lost control of myself, I was stuck it was. It was awful Sorrel I was so scared…”

“But the father, Father Cai that is, he helped me. I owe him so much now. I swear he sees me as a lost child sometimes. I am so thankful of everything he does for me. But enough about that… I have spoken with Delilah whilst you were gone, learned so much there. Her… her father is the dragon that has his claws in me.”

She pauses. “Questions?”

"That is a lot of information..." Sorrel stares at Silvia, aware that her jaw is dropping slightly. "So... to clarify... you had a cursed cloak that turned you into a hell hound semi permanently until a cleric rescued you and your possessor/tormentor/empowerer is Delilah's dad..."

She ruminates. "I mean, this is not the correct response I'm aware, but if you've got some dark spirit possessing you doesn't that kind of mean its hard for other dark spirits to possess you? Or could you literally be overcome by a potentially infinite number of fiends at any one time? Because when I was running protection for a mob in Baldur's Gate we were keen to secure exclusive rights to anyone we exploited. Are you sure this father dragon character is up to snuff in the power stakes? Apart from that, obviously, my poor sweet baby, that sounds like a nightmare."

Sorrel pauses. "I should've gone with that first, I realise..."

“Yes, a nightmare. A nightmare from which I didn’t know if I was going to wake up. But you’re here, you haven’t left me…”

Sorrel smiles. "This is true. Now your problems are complete."

“Oh shush…”

"Anyway," Sorrel leans forward. "It's getting late. Shouldn't you be in bed?"

Silvia gives Sorrel an incredulous look. “You’re not my mother Sorrel, I’m 24.” Saying this she downs her glass and puts it back in the table. “And to prove it you’re going to pour me another”

"I think you misunderstand me, Silvia, I'm saying it's time for bed. We can take the bottle with us."

Silvia blushes and then laughs. Not a giggle this time but a full laugh. “Oh Sorrel you really are something, but we’ll need two, I’ll pass by Coll when we head up.”

Sorrel leans her head to one side and gives Silvia an appraising glance. "By all means. Just don't blame me if we don't get round to drinking it. Or rather, do..."

“I hope to my dear…” says Silvia standing up, brushing Sorrel’s cheek as she walks past

Sorrel watches her sway across the room, appreciating her supple, fluid grace. She watches her chat to Coll, and grab a second bottle, then she hauls herself to her feet and gives a quiet smile. A virgin. This will be a first for both of them. "Just try not to be so... you..." she tells herself and heads for the stairs.