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Traveling kind of sucks. Sure, it’s enjoyable at the start, thrilling to go to new places and meet new people, but the glamour quickly wore away on the train, and reality set in quickly.
No home, no family. Long days, interrupted only by fitful nights of sleep sprinkled with nightmares, chafed the nerves.
The big beautiful train seemed glamourous at first, glossy red and black paint with a large impressive steam engine at the front. It stretched eleven cars long with sleeping cars equipped with private bunks, two beds to a cabin, settled with real mattresses, a dining car with luxury meal service, several casual passenger lounging cars, and a formal drawing room settled into the caboose.
At the front, there were gilded and beautiful private carts, with a living area, a bedroom, and a private bathroom. Of course, Dren had himself settled into one of those private cars and sent the rest of the crew to be among the general passengers.
The train to Geshkin was packed, mostly with humans returning home from their business in Waterdeep. Dain blended in with them, a salt of the earth man with sad eyes, whereas Jed and Raegar stuck out like sore thumbs. Children glanced at Rowan’s horns, and seemed interested in Alfy. They were conspicuous all together, to say the least.
For the first two days, they had tried to be friendly with their fellow passengers. Or, more accurately, Jed tried to make friends with those around them. The other travelers were unimpressed with their smell, and their general strange demeanor, and quickly steered away from them.
But there was no escaping each other.
Dark circles grew under the eyes of the entire Jedidiah Dorpe and Friends company, and tensions ran thick between them. Alfy tried to find quiet corners to get away, but no matter where she went, someone would find her. Howell wanted space to commune with the ring, but was interrupted constantly with questions from Jed, or glares from Raegar. Rowan could barely think, and to top it all off, Rocky hated the train, and meowed constantly.
Even a brief exchange with Nanali would have been preferable to another hours-long talk about the nature of evil, or various wrestling styles, or the different ways to leaven bread in the lounge cart. Or listening to Jed marvel over how trains were such a strange way to travel, or Dain’s sat stories about his lost friends.
It was tiresome.
By day four, Rowan was ready to pull her hair out. There was only so much she could do to keep her merry band of miscreants out of trouble before she had to give up. Sometimes, there was no helping the momentous amount of dumbassery which happened these days.
She needed to escape it, even just for a minute. When the sun set and everyone else was to bed, she slipped out of the bunk she shared with Alfy, and quietly crept down the train. She crossed threshold after threshold, making her way through the cars until she was at the door to the caboose.
Carefully, she opened the door and made sure it was empty, and then slipped through and slid the door shut behind her. Blissful seclusion. Alone time, accompanied only by the soothing rumbling of the train.
Rowan nearly collapsed with relief, her shoulders dropping and jaw unclenching as she wandered to one of the perfectly stuffed couches and plopped down into it. She ran her hand over the velvet and wished immediately that she could sit there forever. Her head dropped back and her eyes closed as she sighed.
The exhaustion which had been her constant companion for months now finally settled down, and then faded away. Nothing about her life recently had gone according to her plans and constantly switching gears and adapting so often was not a sustainable way to live.
It hadn’t all been bad though. A small smile crossed her face as she thought back to the bundle of letters she had tucked away in her bag, wrapped carefully with a silky ribbon. Vaikana had been a bright spot, someone reasonable and even-keeled through all of the crazy.
His sweet words had comforted her many sleepless nights. Each letter reminded her that there was something after, this was all over. One day, they’d stop adventuring together, and she’d still be young, with so much left to live and do and be.
Then, she remembered what he had said about her friends, about being friends with people outside her species, and her smile faltered. Her friends were challenging, it was true. And their lives would be over much sooner than hers would be… But she loved them.
She loved them, and it was messy and inconvenient, and sometimes infuriating, but she couldn’t regret it. This was an adventure of a lifetime, and she was happy to be one it with her friends, her family.
“Crap,” she muttered, wrinkling her nose.
What a mess. How was anyone supposed to sort through these feelings? How did other Tieflings deal with it?
Shuffling further down into the couch, she sighed, allowing herself a pity party.
“Crap, crap, crap.”
It felt good to say, to let it all out finally.
“Ughhhhhhh…” she groaned. “Shit. Crap. Fuck.”
She sat up, straightened her shoulders, glanced around and then said it again, “Fuck!”
She didn’t hear anything, and the rattling of the train was enough to keep anyone from hearing her, so she did it again, louder.
“Fucking fuck!”
That felt even better, her smile returning.
Her life was a mess, it was true, but she had this.
“This sucks! I wish I could get off of this train!”
The door to the cart rattled, and Rowan jumped, scrambling off the couch and putting her hands behind her back, wide eyes on the door.
Raegar ducked in through the door, sliding it shut behind him. The large green man could barely navigate the world at the best of times, and being cramped in a train only made him seem even larger than he really was.
“I hate those doors,” he muttered, fussing with the latch to make sure it closed properly.
Rowan blinked at him, “Haha. Yeah…”
Raegar frowned, “Why are you here?”
“Uhh… I came to get away. Why are you here?”
“Can’t sleep,” he said, crossing his arms. “Figured I’d explore. Scope out any enemies.”
“Enemies?”
“You never know,” he pointed out. “They could be anywhere. Dain doesn’t exactly have a lot of friends right now. Wanna make sure there are no weird people on the train.”
“Ah. Right.” She laughed nervously. “So…”
Raegar nodded, stepping closer, “Soooo? Why do you look like that?”
“Why do I look like this? What do I look like to you?” She sniffed, offended. Did he always have to ask such offensive questions?
He huffed, “I don’t know. You just look weird. I can’t explain it. I thought something was wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong!” Rowan sniped, her brows drawing in low.
This was why she had been avoiding Raegar all day. She didn’t want this fighting, this weird tenuous tension, and the off-putting words. Sometimes, sometimes he seemed decent, kind even. He was sweet with his family, and sometimes, he was sweet with her.
Why couldn’t he be sweet all the time?
“Then why are you here?” He demanded.
“I just wanted to get away, I told you!”
“Why did you need to get away?”
“ Because!”
She didn’t have to explain herself to him! Her blood boiled quickly, and she wanted to scream at him. And she just might. Days and weeks of anger and tension quickly rose to the front of her mind again. No velvety couch could soothe her now, she was angry.
“Because why ?” He pushed, always pushing, and stepped closer.
That did it, that slammed every button Rowan had, and it took all she had to not hurl fire at him, or at the couch. Fire wouldn’t help the situation, she knew that. But she wanted to light his stupid face on fire or to destroy something . Anything to let her anger out so it would stop eating her up.
“Oh my god!” She yelled. “Why are you like this? Why can’t you leave me the hell alone? It’s always a fight with you and I’m sick of it!”
She remembered the drawings she had burned, of all of the lovely moments Raegar had ruined, and she was so sad and angry. Why couldn’t this be as easy as she wanted it to be?
“I don’t want to fight,” he said, frowning deeply, “I’m just worried about you!”
The half-orc was clearly distressed, his dark brows drawn together, and his hands open, pleading.
He had truly stepped in it, again.
“I’m not yours to worry about!” Rowan exclaimed wildly, “Just leave me alone!”
“Oh, so, I’m not allowed to care about you? We’re friends, Rowan. Friends care!”
“Ugh!” She tossed up her hands, “Stop caring!”
It hurt, it hurt so bad she didn’t know what to do with it. Did she want to be friends? Yes. They were friends already, in a way, but did friends cause one another pain, the way she and Raegar seemed destined to do, over and over again.
She didn’t want to be friends if it meant all this pain.
“Stop caring? What do you mean?” He glared at her, eyes flashing. “I won’t stop caring about my friends, Rowan.”
“Stop saying my name like that!”
“Like what!?”
“Like… Like…” She didn’t know how to tell him. How to speak her feelings in a way that made sense. She fought with her mind for a moment, before conceding, “Like I don’t know !”
“You don’t know? Why are you yelling at me if you don’t know?”
Raegar was not shouting, but she wished he was. She wanted to fight to him, she’d wanted to for days now.
“I just!” She stomped her foot, “I’m tired, Raegar! I’m tired of us not getting along!”
“Then why are you yelling at me?” He asked, bewildered.
Everything was so easy with him, so simple.
“I don’t know what to do with myself when you’re around,” she said, “I can’t tell if you’re nice, or mean, or insensitive, or sensitive. Sometimes I think you’re just so dumb, and then other times you’re the smartest one out of us all. You’ve been so mean to me.” She sniffed, tears flooding her eyes, “You’ve been so callous. And then sometimes you’re nice and I just don’t know what to do…”
She trailed off, the fire in her belly doused with her tears.
She didn’t want to fight anymore. Her shoulders slumped and her head dropped as she sniffed.
Raegar blinked at her several times, and then stepped in close to her, looking down at the top of her head, at her graceful horns and slender shoulders.
“Um…” He coughed into his hand, and then put one large hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
She glanced up at him, her eyes swimming and firey, “ What are you sorry for?”
He sighed, his hand lifting from her shoulder to drag through his hair.
“I know I’m not the best with words. And I know I’m… Different from other guys. From, ugh, Vaikana. But I’m not mean, or at least, I don’t want to be. I just say the wrong thing sometimes.”
Raegar coughed.
“A lot of times, but I’m… Well, I’m sorry. For all of it. For not being nicer to you, for being weird, for being… whatever. For being me , I guess.”
Rowan’s heart cracked a little. That hadn’t been what she meant at all.
“No, Raegar—”
He held up a hand, asking her to wait.
“I know, I know I’m difficult. I know I don’t know how to use words, or how to be fancy. You’re so pretty, and you’re smart and talented, and I’m a big half-orc. I know. But I don’t mean to hurt you. I know I have but… I didn’t mean too. I’ve never meant to. I want to make you feel nice, not make you cry or upset you.”
She sniffed hard, “What?”
He shuffled on the spot, clearly uncomfortable, “You make me feel… Things… And sometimes, when it happens, I don’t know what to do, and I do the wrong thing.”
“ I make you feel things?”
He coughed, “Don’t make this weirder than it is.”
She laughed, disbelieving, “What?”
“I’m trying,” he told her. “Rowan, please. Throw me a bone.”
Rowan sighed, thinking for a moment.
“I…” She stepped closer. “I want to know what you mean when you say you feel things.”
A fierce, red blush broke out on Raegar’s face.
“You know what I mean.”
Resisting the wild urge to smile or laugh, she gently prompted, “Please?”
This was the Raegar she liked. This wild up and down was something she could do without, but he never failed to make her laugh. He was so earnest, and she could tell he was trying. He really was trying hard.
“I mean,” he said, carefully, “when you’re around, I feel everything. I feel everything all the time. Like, you make me feel… unsettled. And happy. And sometimes, I don’t understand the things you do, and then I get sad, so I pretend to be mad, and then you get mad, and I’m actually mad and then I say things... “ He huffed. “I don’t know how to tell you what I mean. I just. Feel it.”
Slowly, he took one of her hands and pressed it to his chest, over his heart.
His skin was warm through his shirt, and Rowan could feel how fast his heart was racing.
His eyes burned into hers, and he asked, “Do you feel it?”
The train raced forward, as fast as Raegar’s heart was racing, and Rowan did feel something. It was there, in the air between them, sweet and complicated. Her own heart sang with it, raced alongside his.
“I feel it,” she whispered.
He nodded, solemn. “I’m sorry. I can’t always do the right thing. But I promise to always try. It might take me a moment, but I do try. I’ll always try. I’ll always care. For you.”
Her fingers curled into his shirt, and she stepped further into his space, tilting her head back. “Do you promise?”
“I promise,” he swore, his heart skipping a beat.
The oil lanterns along the gilt walls lit them both in soft, warm light. The pair took one another in as if it was for the first time.
He had messed up, more than once, it was true. But he had owned up to it, and she believed him when he said he would try. Rowan had seen how he would move worlds for his family, and perhaps with time, he would become a little more thoughtful, less destructive with his words. With patience, kindness, she knew he would learn. That he wanted to learn.
Raegar, he was a man who would move mountains if he needed to, he wouldn’t let a small thing like needing to think through his words now stop him.
Rowan could hardly think of anything more to ask for.
Sure, she wanted poetry, softness and sweetness, but she also wanted a rock to lean on in the hard times. Someone who would be there, help her and lend her strength. Someone who cared and would listen to her when she spoke, and take what she said to mind. Even if it was hard sometimes, perhaps with more out in the open between them, it would be easier.
There wasn’t any need to hide anymore. They could be honest.
That was what she wanted for them.
Slowly, so slowly she wasn’t sure it was happening, he leaned down.
Rowan lifted up on her toes, tilting her head back, her eyes fluttering shut.
“Raegar,” she sighed.
“Hm,” he muttered. “No more talking.”
“Okay.”
They met in the middle, carefully and softly.
A trill shot from Rowan’s head to her toes, and this was what she needed. Her hands snaked up his chest and looped around his neck, pulling him in closer.
Raegar sighed, and his hands, much softer than she realized he was capable of, settled on her waist.
She’d seen him be kind with Gwen, but to have that gentleness, twined with the soft romance she felt in the air, directed at her was beautiful to feel.
The swaying of the train forced them closer, their bodies pressing together. He was much larger than he was, which was thrilling and strange, and before she could lean against him fully, she gently pulled away, glancing up at him.
“Perhaps we should… Uh… Stop, for now.”
His eyes blinked slowly open.
“Stop?”
She smiled, unable to stop herself. His slack face was glorious, and she felt enormously powerful.
“Just for now,” she said. “We should be slow. We’re kinda… Trapped together. If we do this wrong, there’s no escape. And we don’t want the others to suffer because we start fighting or anything.”
His face quickly grew determined, “No more fighting.”
“You mean it?”
“Yes. We’ll… Talk. That’s what people do, right? They talk, and then there’s no more need to be angry.”
Rowan’s smile grew, “Right. We’ll talk.”
He sighed, heavily, and then pulled her into him, hugging her close to his chest.
“I don’t want to stop kissing you though.”
Laughing, Rowan admitted, “Me neither.”
He looked down at her, smug, grinning, “I’m good, aren’t I?”
She would never admit it.
“Perhaps.”
He scoffed, “Perhaps?!”
“Mmmhmm.”
His eyes twinkled, with mischief, “I am, admit it.”
“A lady never tells,” she proclaimed.
“I’ll just have to prove it then,” he said, leaning down closer, winding one of his hands around the back of her neck. “We don’t have anywhere else to be anyway.”
“True…” Rowan admitted, already going up on her toes, “Maybe just a few more.”
“Just a few,” he agreed, before he kissed her again, smiling.
For the moment, all was well. And the train pressed ever forward towards Geshkin.