Tread Softly

[Gren Blockman]

Thursday, October 17, 2013



The next morning, he set out into the forest to find a fresh deer to hunt so that he would be prepared for the dinner. After several hours of stalking through the forest, he found a medium sized one that would suit his purposes. Shooting it with his bow, he dragged the body back to his house, where he skinned and filleted it as neatly as possible. Storing the fillets in his kitchen, he glanced at the sun, realizing it was almost time for him to leave. He changed his clothes, and quickly exited his house, marching rapidly to the portal to the Inn. He was excited and grinning openly. He couldn't wait to see Izira again, and spend time with her over dinner. He walked through the portal, the blue lights becoming less wondrous and more a routine part of the journey. He opened the door, pushing his hood back simultaneously, and hoped she would be at the bar, waiting for him.

She wasn't immediately at the bar, though a basket waited on the counter. It held asparagus, onions, seasons, oil, garlic cloves, and butter. It was only a moment later that Izira stepped through from the kitchen, wearing a dress in green and blue. "I thought I heard the door." Smiling, she held up a roasting pan. "Do you have a roasting pan?"

"Uhhhh . . . " Gren had all these things planned to say to her after being away for two days, but they seemed to vanish from his mind when he saw her again. He just kind of blinked at her for a long moment, staring at her dress, until the mention of a roasting pan snapped him out of it. "Pan? Oh, you know, I have a few, but if we're going to be making a big meal, I could probably use all the pans I can get. Being a bachelor, I don't do much cooking." Not elaborate cooking anyway. He walked over to the counter and looked at the basket before looking back at her. "It's good to see you again, Izira."

"I will bring this one." She added a tube of foil to the basket and then the roasting pan turned upside-down over the whole thing after Gren had gotten his look. Izira leaned against the back of the counter, "It is good to see you as well, Gren." A pause and a gaze, she smiled and stepped away, pulling her eyes away at the same time. "Tell me about your mission?" She asked him the question while rounding the bar and coming out.

"Oh, it turned out to be no big deal. The mayor of Blue Sky is paranoid that someone is going to kill him whenever he goes out in public. I can't judge him too badly. I have some weird phobias myself." He tried to chuckle, but then he realized he just admitted that to Izira, so he tried to cover it by soldiering on. "Anyway, we had to guard him during their Fall Festival, and everything went like clockwork. I was able to pick up a cobbler mix and whatever else I needed for tonight."

A brow lifted at his mention of phobias, but she would leave that off for the time being. A hand was placed on the side of the basket. "I am ready to go... on one condition." There was a tease in her smile.

Gren momentarily looked bewildered, but wiped it off his face. "Whatever you want."

"You carry the basket." She didn't think it even needed asking, but she enjoyed watching the changes in his facial expression.

He opened his mouth to say something, then just grins slightly. "Whatever madam wishes, I am nothing if not a gentleman." He swept the basket up into his arm like the maitre d' at a restaurant, then gives her a slight bow. "Shall we?" He gestured dramatically towards the door.

Looking him over with a tilt of her head, the smile didn't leave. "We shall." She stepped for the door. The lights of the inn started to dim as she left it.

He followed behind her at a trot, getting to the door before her and gracefully opening it for her to step through. "You always open the door for a pretty lady." He said, as if trying to impress her with his gentlemanly manners.

"I cannot picture you opening doors for Moriana." She gave a soft chuckle as she stepped through. "Thank you."

At the mention of Moriana, he broke character so to speak, and started chuckling. "No, I imagine she'd probably punch me in the nose if I did something like that." He walked beside her as they went down the stairs of the porch and down the gravel path. "I hope she was civil with you, at least. I was in a hurry and I couldn't send anyone else."

"Civil enough for her, I believe." Izira walked beside Gren, allowing him to lead the way on their journey to his home. "I saw you gave her a bag of the coffee."

"Yeah, I had to give her the Wutroth coffee you gave me so she'd deliver the message. Haddon will be a bit upset, but I'm sure if I just tell him the name, he'll be able to find it himself." They disappeared into the portal, the blue lights dancing around them, and found themselves in the evergreen glen. He led the way towards the cluster of lakes that are the landmark he remembered which point the way home.

"Perhaps she will share with Haddon?" Izira didn't know much about the group's dynamic, but thought to look on the bright side of things. "Either way, I can always send more back with you."

He laughed lightly, not at Izira, more thinking about Moriana. "Moriana's not the sharing type. She probably won't even let him know she has it. Yeah, I wouldn't mind bringing him some, next time I'm at the Inn. I'm sure he'd appreciate it."

[Gren Blockman]

A soft nod and she is content to walk a little further in silence before moving on to another topic, "I... thought about your suggestion before... about having a buffet at the inn? I thought... perhaps you would like to host an event for the rangers there? That way I could meet your friends, ones that might actually speak."

He smiled gently at the comment about the ones who actually speak. "I would love to do something like that. They, uh . . . It's a hard job. And little things like a good, warm meal mean a lot to them. That would be great." He turned his ice blue eyes to her, his gratefulness shining there, as well as in his words.

She smiled and rested her hand lightly on his arm. "You need only tell me the date of when you will wish to host the dinner and I will provide the rest."

He nodded. "Alright. I'll let them know. I'm sure they'll be thrilled to have one of your buffets. I know I used to be." The talk of buffets brings back old memories. "That reminds me of the Great Helm. I can't believe it's been five years. I wish I could remember some of the conversations we had."

"It is... perhaps... better that you don't." She gave a soft smile, only truly having the memory of scolding him and another not to bring violence into the inn. "I... was not at my best at the time." Not exactly her worst ever, though it still weighed heavily on her.

"Now, I kind of wish I would, anyway. I did remember your face. The quiet grace and dignity with which you carried yourself. Although you did seem very . . . reserved. Very careful."

"Cold." Looking up to Gren, "I was cold”, she said with a sad smile. Her touch left his arm and she brushed her hair back.

"Well. You told me that was when Alain left you. I can imagine it was a difficult time to go through."

"I was being consumed by my madness and numb." Her amber-brown eyes drifted to watch the passing scenery. "I did not want to feel pain and it led me to feeling nothing."

Her last comment reminded him of his trip back in time last month, and the comment Izira made then when he had asked if she was feeling alright. He had wondered what she meant when she said she felt nothing. "Let's pray those days are behind you. I certainly hope you don't feel numb now."

"Sometimes being numb can be a blessing. There is nothing to fear or worry about. You cannot feel pain or regret."

"Yes, but you can't feel happiness either. Or hope, faith, warmth. Or luh . . . Or love." He was going to bite that last word back, but followed through anyway.

"When you do not feel anything, the lack of those things do not bother you."

"Feeling nothing can't last forever though. I'm sure when your feelings do come back . . . it probably hurts even worse."

Gren had the right of it and her quiet, sad smile said as much.

He saw her sad smile, and his heart went out to her, and the compassion showed in his eyes. "Now . . . I hope you aren't numb any more. Maybe you . . . have something to look forward to that you didn't have then."

"I am no longer numb." That was her answer to his words, she did not comment on having something to look forward to.

Gren waited a moment for the comment that never came, then swallowed a bit. "Good things will come. I always tell myself that. I've been telling myself that for seven years. Maybe it's a bit naive of me . . . but sometimes I have to tell myself that to keep it together, you know?"

After a quiet nod, she tried to give him more of a warm smile but slightly failed at it. She swallowed and drew her hair back. "I have... lost... so many good things. And I have been the source of pain for others." She looked back to him, "I do not fear that good things will never come, I fear that I will be unable to keep them or deserve them."

She said that to him before, several times, and he wondered if she will finally tell him what she meant. "Everyone deserves good things. Why don't you think you do?"

"Perhaps.... perhaps I am much like Gronnard, only nicer to look at."

"Gronnard was a brutal murderer. And you're one of the most nicest, giving people I've ever met. How could you compare yourself to him?"

"Because like him... I am a murderer." She stopped walking, turning to look to Gren.

Blindly, he took another two steps, while watching her, as what she's saying to him didn't register at first. It's almost like she must be joking. His face shifted between shock and incredulity. "What? What are you talking about?"

"That day, I told you that you were with the most dangerous being in the forest." She watched the shock and incredulity show on his face. "I have others... and I have killed others..." She swallowed and spoke on, thinking to stop his first argument in question. "Not in self-defense. Not always."

"I can't . . .” He shook his head and took the two steps forward to close the distance between them. "I can't believe that. Did you *mean* to kill them? Was it an accident?"

"You think you cannot mean to kill someone, even if it is an accident?" She sighed, looking away. "There were those I wished to hurt and I hurt them." Wetting her lips, her amber-brown eyes returned to Gren. "Dytannia. Our time together ended when she threw me out of her tavern after I set it on fire in my anger. I did so knowing that the tavern and the woman were bonded as one and she felt its pain." She did not feel good about it now, but it happened. She couldn't stand to meet Gren's eyes any longer, and looked away again.

"Izira, you said you wanted to *hurt* her, not murder her. People get angry. People want to hurt someone who they feel has wronged or betrayed them. But murder means you deliberately tried to kill someone. It doesn't sound to me that you *tried* to kill Dytannia."

"I tried. Happily, I was not successful. A whole wall took fire before I could be stopped. Dytannia is one of the few who is not a nameless face in my past of those I have hurt or killed."

He remained watching her, as if the whole thing just can't be true. "What do you mean nameless face?"

"I mean... that not every fire I started ended as happily."

He crossed his arms, not out of anger, more to get comfortable standing there. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

"I fear I must..."

"I'm listening." He said it quietly, as if he wasn't trying to judge her, but just hear her out.

She gave a short nod and then looked away. "The first man I killed... the first people I killed..." She grimaced, sighed and started again. "I lived alone in the woods with my mother and father. I knew nothing else of the world. My mother was kind, but sickly. My father.... he... he was cold to us. I only ever wanted him to love me. He was gone when my mother died. I was seven." She glanced back to Gren, "As I told you, when my mother died, I experienced her memories. Memories that showed me that... that the man I called father was not my true father. That he had murdered that man in a rage. I understood why he couldn't love me. My mother's remaining years had only been a punishment for her sin of loving another...." Izira looked away again. "I left our home and searched for him. I wanted... some form of understanding. I wanted to tell him that my mother was dead." Licking her lips as she paused, her voice shook as she continued, her eyes beginning to water, "I found him. At another house, with another woman. They were happy. They were happy and my mother was dead... I didn't know I could start fires. All I knew was that I wanted him to suffer as my mother has suffered. They couldn't get out of the house... they burned alive." The memory of Gren's reactions to the burned bodies turns her stomach. "Worse... I do not regret it." Izira shut her eyes and tears fell, down her cheeks and to the ground below.

Wordlessly, Gren set the basket down, slowly moved over to Izira, and put his arms around her, drawing her to him in an embrace.

She did not expect him to hold her and she clung to him, needing to feel his solid form there before she said more.

He smoothed her hair down as he held her, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. His other hand gripped around her shoulder, as he leaned his cheek on her forehead.

[Gren Blockman]

She drew in a deep breath and exhaled. "The others were accidents. I couldn't control the fire. It came when I wouldn't have it and left me to fend for myself when I needed it. I wandered on my own for three years before I ended up in the orphanage." She didn't feel the need to explain how bad that place had been, how the mistress cared very little of finding the kids homes and more about finding coin to fill her pockets with. "That's where my Master found me." A shudder ran through her and she willed Gren not to move away.

"Go on." He whispered softly. He had no intention of letting her go, and his strong embrace affirmed that.

She was silent at first, though Gren had bid her to go on. She couldn't find the words to tell him about her time with the Wizard, the man she called Master. Weakly, she skipped to the end of the story. He had held her for five years. "I was seventeen when I killed him. Another fire. One I willed to start. That's when... the gift grew more out of control. I slipped in and out of spells of madness. I don't know the names or faces or number of those I hurt then."

He remained quiet himself, letting her finish before he spoke. "Izira, that doesn't sound to me like a cold blooded murderer. That sounds to me like a confused child, hurt at being abandoned, and not knowing what they were capable of. And you Master . . . " He felt her shudder, and he remembered her look from the other night. " . . . I'm sure you had your reasons. Am I uneasy about your power? Of course I am. But you're not a hurt, confused child any more. You're not an angry teenager. You are a mature, caring adult, and you strike me as having plenty of self-control. I am not afraid of you, Izira. And I'm not going to judge you."

"I am not used to the control I have... I fear it won't last." The words are out and she quietly chuckled, though without much humor. "It is no wonder you hold such concern for me... all you hear is how much I fear everything." She pulled back, offering him an apologetic smile.

Gren shook his head, giving her a look of warmth. "No, I understand. To have a power like that, to be able to take lives with it, it's a heavy burden. The madness you speak of, to think that you can't control it . . . your fear is understandable."

"Thank you." She is glad to have that burden lifted, having told him what she could and having him still there.

"I could probably tell you a similar story. About the first day I can remember."

"You don't look the sort to start fires."

"That's true. As far as I know, I'm just a regular human being. Nothing special about me." He took a deep breath. It wasn't a painful memory, more confusing than anything. "There were these two mages that ran this little academy out in the forest a few miles from RhyDin City. Arillon and Shann. They were doing some yardwork before the new school season started, when they saw me shuffling down the road towards them. I was covered in blood and burns, and my clothes were smoking. They ran to me and took me inside, to try to help me. They told me later that the only thing I could say was my name. They said what little clothes I had left signified me as a Ranger. But the blood wasn't just mine. There was three, maybe four different people’s blood on me. Arillon asked the local Ranger guilds if they'd ever heard of a Gren Blockman, but nobody did. So he asked my Headmaster, Perrigan, if he could take me in. Perrigan agreed, thinking maybe it would jog my memory. But it never did. I have no way of knowing whose blood that was, or why I was on fire. I have nightmares about it sometimes, but that's it."

"Have you.... ever gone back there?"

He swallowed. "A few times. I thought maybe they'd have some information for me, but . . . nothing. I appreciate them saving my life, but it's a bit . . . frustrating."

With a soft smile, she stepped back to Gren and gently took his hand, squeezing it lightly.

He squeezed her hand back, still gazing at her warmly. "Let's go make some dinner, huh?"

She nodded, letting go of his hand so he could pick the basket back up.

He picked the basket up with his right hand, and he put his left arm around Izira's shoulders, steering her toward where his treehouse was.

She leaned against him as they walked, silent the rest of the way.

After a while, they finally get to his treehouse. It was a massive oak, with a door at the bottom, and up in the branches, it looked like a house had been built. There were several windows and the roof seemed to blend in with the leaves. "Here we are. Remember, its two knocks and a whistle. Else . . . “ He made a dramatic downward arc with his hand as if to signify the trajectory of a water balloon.

She looked the structure over, quite amazed with what she was seeing. "Shall I practice?" She stepped up to the door and made two knocks before she whistled. Amber-browns looked back to Gren and then up. No water balloons.

He shook his head sadly. "The raccoons and the squirrels must be asleep. I told them to guard this place with their life! Well they're not getting any more acorns from me, I can tell you that." He gave Izira a little smirk, before pulling out his key to open the door.

She gave a soft chuckle as she stepped back to allow him to get the key in and the door open.

[Gren Blockman]

He opened the door and lead Izira into the foyer, then to a set of steps that went to where the kitchen was. He set the basket down on the kitchen table. "Alright. I hope I got everything." He took his grey cloak off and hung it on a peg, revealing a simple brown shirt and pants. "This lady at the Blue Sky Fall Festival was telling me this recipe about Venison Steaks with a Balsamic-Boysenberry Sauce. It sounded good so I bought the kit from her. It came with balsamic vinegar, olive oil, boysenberry preserves, and blue cheese." He went into his pantry and started pulling all the items out, setting them on the kitchen counter.

Izira looked around Gren's place as she was led up to the kitchen. As Gren started prepping, Izira unloaded the basket. "I brought olive oil, I did not know if you would have it." Her own items for the sides were set out, then she looked to Gren, smiling. "Shall I watch you prepare the steaks first?"

"Sure, if you want. I already filleted them, and rubbed some pepper seasoning into them." He went over and opened up his icebox and pulled a tray of the venison steaks out. "So how do you like them, medium rare, or well done?"

"Medium rare", she said, watching him with the steaks. "I will need a cutting board and knife to prep the asparagus and onions, when you're finished."

"Ah! Coming right up." He laid the tray next to the oven, and rummaged through some of his cabinets. "I know I have those somewhere . . . here we go." He found a cutting board and set it on the kitchen countertop, then went into one of his drawers and pulled out a cutting knife. "There you are." His stove was one of the old time potbelly stoves that ran on fire. He opened the hatch and stuck some firewood and a little kindling inside. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a 'lights-anywhere' match and struck it along the side of the stove, holding it up to the kindling until it started to flicker into a flame.

She noted the stove and looked for an oven while washing the asparagus stems off and setting them on the cutting board. She repeated the action with the onions.

"This shouldn't take long, you're only supposed to cook them a minute on each side." He waited a few minutes for the fire to get hot, then he put the steaks into a frying pan, and placed them on top of the stove. "Venison gets tough if you cook it too long", he said, just making conversation. "When I get done, you can cook the vegetables here."

"It is good I brought a small roasting pan." Softly chuckling to herself, she cut a portion off the bottom of the asparagus and onions. She took several cloves of garlic out and minced them with the knife, enough for both dishes. The asparagus was rolled in olive oil, set into the roasting pan and sprinkled with lemon juice, garlic, salt and pepper. The onions were partially quartered, then stuffed with a beef cube, garlic and butter before being wrapped in foil. She did it slowly so that Gren could watch as he pleased.

Gren peeked over her shoulder as she made the preparations. "That looks tasty. Whoops!" He ran back to his frying pan, giving the steaks a flip. Then after a minute, he took them off, and laid them on a clean platter. While the pan was still hot, he added the balsamic vinegar and two heaping spoonfuls of the boysenberry preserves. The olive oil had been used before when cooking the steaks. Gren let the mixture simmer until it looked like syrup. Then he poured it into a mixing bowl with some butter, which he stirred until it dissolved. Then he poured the syrup over the steaks, adding some blue cheese on the top. "Hey, I'm a better cook than I thought. At least it *looks* good."

With the stove free Izira managed to fit some room for the sides before coming over to peek over his shoulder at the venison. "It smells good too."

"Yeah. I can't wait. Alright, what would you like to drink? I know you like wine, so I bought you a bottle at the festival." He went into the icebox and pulled out a glass bottle of Red Merlot. "I don't know much about wine, but I hope this will be alright."

She looked to the bottle and inclined her head. "It will be perfect."

He gave her a big thumbs up, placed it on the table, and began to set out the dishes for their meal, occasionally glancing at the vegetables she was preparing.

Izira might well have been cheating with the vegetables and her gift, but they were out of the stove and set out, ready to serve. She was sure that she'd been caught. "I did not want the venison getting cold."

He chuckled. "Eh, it's alright. I was kind of wondering how you got my meals at the Inn done so fast, anyway." He grinned and grabbed the platter with the steaks on it and set it on the table. Then he went to the icebox and got himself a Broot, before he sat down, rubbing his hands together. He glanced at her before he got ready to dig in. "Do you . . . uh . . . say Grace?"

"It is not a habit of mine, no." She took a spot at the table and poured herself a glass of wine.

He shrugged. "Alright then, let's see how it tastes!" He dished himself out a large portion of steak, some asparagus, and some of the roasted onions. He poured his Broot into a glass so he wasn't drinking right from the bottle. Using his knife and fork, he cut off a large hunk of the steak and chewed it thoughtfully. "Hey, that's not bad. It's got that sweet/sour taste going on with the boysenberries and the vinegar."

She fixed herself up a plate, taking a bite at the same time. She nodded her approval, waiting until her mouth was clear before speaking. "I should hire you to cook at the inn."

[Gren Blockman]

"I must be a natural. You know, now that you mention it, maybe I could help you with that buffet you're planning."

"You could." She agreed to the idea easily. She crossed her legs, accidentally rubbing Gren with her foot. She smiled down at her plate as she drew her foot back. "It would be nice, to have your help."

The touch of her foot filled him with a warm sensation, just like when she touched his shoulder, or his hand. He tried to keep his composure, and enjoy his meal, but he can't help staring at her sitting across from him at the table. "Then I'll be there. Any time you need my help . . . I'll be there."

She chuckled softly, "Do you wish to give up being a ranger and become my chef?" There was teasing in her tone. A sip was taken of the wine.

He tried some of her asparagus, and the roasted onions, and tried not to chew with his mouth open. "I didn't realize you needed that much kitchen help." He pictured in his mind, him being the chef, and Izira being the hostess, and the two running the Inn together. "But that's not such a bad thought." Maybe one day. "Someday I might not be able to . . . I might not want to be a Ranger anymore."

"I will be sure to keep your resume on file for... someday." She gave a bit of a smirk before she tried a bite of steak with a slice of onion. She kept her elbows off the table and set her fork down between bites.

"I . . . just meant it's dangerous what I do. I enjoy doing it, don't get me wrong. It gives me a great feeling to help protect and serve people. But it is physically demanding, and . . . " Hazardous to your health, to put it mildly. "Not something I might be able to do for the rest of my life."

"Do... many rangers live to retire?" She understood all too well what hazards he faced in his job.

He swallowed his food. "Not really. Perrigan is the oldest I know of, that's why he's the Headmaster, I guess. He's in his mid-fifties. His best friend and second in command is named Westerguard. They're the same age, they've been Rangers for decades. He's called the "General". He leads the "Soldiers", the Rangers that go into the field and see active combat. I'm one of the "Soldiers". Most of them don't live past their thirties."

Her smile took on a sad turn, "I would like for you to live longer than that."

"I would too. Believe me. I want to grow old, have a wife, maybe kids. I tried not to think about it too much. The job meant everything to me. My relationships were few and far between, so I never had cause to think someone was worried about me. Lately . . . things have been different. I've been thinking about it more."

Her cheeks colored slightly and she looked down to her plate, taking another bite of the meal. Her mouth full gave her an excuse for not responding or asking further questions.

He watched her cheeks flush, and he couldn't help but smile. "It's not a bad thing, Izira. It's just human nature. To want to be safe. To want to be loved." He looked down at his plate for a moment. "I keep thinking about that hill I charged up. The day before the play. Those arrows falling around me, and all I could think about was you. Your face, the way you tuck your hair behind your ear, the way you lay your hand on my shoulder. It was a good feeling. Gave me . . . something to look forward to."

"You flatter me... but... I would hate to think something happened to you due to your distracted state." She looked to his shoulder. "I... have gotten used to your visits. I enjoy them."

"It wasn't a bad distraction. It was a good one. I was nervous, scared more like it. Men were falling around me and I was running straight at a horde of angry goblins waiting to kill me. I don't think I would have made it had I not had . . . that something." He paused. "I enjoy my visits too. I wish I could come more often. I wanted so bad to walk in the forest again with you."

Through his words, she continued to look down, afraid of what looking directly at him at the moment would reveal. "We will have time to walk there again. You... could walk me home Saturday, after I visit the Arena."

"Alright, I'd like that." He felt a bit awkward too, not in a bad way, but he was at the point where he was sharing his feelings for her, and it naturally made him nervous. He went back to finishing his steak.

She felt the awkwardness, though it wasn't uncomfortable. Izira sipped her wine and returned to the meal. Her heel lightly brushed his leg again before being drawn away.

He lightly cleared his throat at the contact, more because of the feelings it was raising inside him. He felt warm and anxious, so he tried to break the tension. "I . . . uh . . . “, his voice cracked a bit. "I made a Cherry-Pineapple Crumb Cobbler. Bought it from a farmer, had it made up like a cake mix. It's ready and waiting for us in the icebox."

"That sounds delicious." Her plate clean, she set her silverware down and picked up her wine. She looked up. "Do you have a spot here with a good view of the stars?"

[Gren Blockman]

He swallowed hard and composed himself. "Yes! Yes, my bedroom has a window." He gulped as he realized what that sounded like. "A table! There's a table near the window we could sit at." There was a long pause. "And watch the stars."

"The table", she said, agreeing with that. "We can watch the stars while we have the cobbler, before I return to the inn tonight."

"Right. Before you return." He cleared his throat again, took her empty plate and his, and put them both in the sink. "Would you like some more wine?" he asked, as he went to the icebox and withdrew the cobbler.

"Yes, please."

He placed the cobbler on the table, then poured Izira another glassful of the Red Merlot. Then he went back to his cabinets and took his snack dishes out, along with a serving knife and spoon. Setting the dishes down on the table, he spooned them both out a decent helping of the cobbler. The pineapple was on the bottom, in rings.

"It looks like another success." She picked up the wine glass and watched as Gren served the dessert. She stood when the plates were ready and picked up one for herself. "Your lead."

He grabbed his glass of Broot and his plate. "Right this way." He walked up the flight of stairs a bit more, to the top level, where his bedroom was. His bed lay against one wall, while a set of cabinets and counters was on the wall across from it. On the far side from the stairs was the large window with the sitting table underneath it. He made his way across his bedroom to the table, leaving the chair with the best view open for Izira. He sat down and took a few bites of the cobbler. "The pineapple gives it a little kick."

She followed Gren, taking in the way up and his room. Lowering herself into the seat he left, she crossed her legs. A bite was taken and enjoyed before she nodded her agreement. "The view is lovely."

"It is." He said, although he was looking right at her, not out the window. "Izira . . . you had said before, that you were afraid that I would not look at you the same, once I learned about . . . what you had done. Since you know that isn't the case . . . how do you feel about me now?"

A flutter of her lashes brought her gaze to him. She caught him watching her and not the stars. Her cheeks flushed again and she looked down. "Will you... wait for me to answer? Saturday." She looked up again with a muted hope in her eyes.

He looked a bit bewildered and scratched the hair over his left ear, but didn't look upset or angry. "Uh, yeah. That's fine. I was just . . . wondering."

"I can tell you now that I still appreciate your friendship." It seemed a small thing to share again, with what he was asking.

"I appreciate yours too. Sometimes I feel like . . . you're the only one I feel comfortable talking to. Normally with women I just fall apart, but there's something about you that . . . " He paused, his ice blue eyes searching her face again, before he withdrew his gaze to the starry night sky. "I mean . . . I feel at ease around you. I've told you things I haven't told anyone in a long time."

"I would say the same, but it has been a long time since I've had the chance to talk to anyone of anything." The joke was softly delivered. She leaned his way and set her hand on his knee, "Thank you for sharing what you did with me."

Her hand made his knee feel like jelly, and he fought to keep from trembling. Her smell, her warmth, and her touch felt like they were overpowering his senses. Could he really wait until Saturday? "I was happy to share with you. And I'm glad you trusted me. You can trust me with anything, Izira."

Nodding softly, she drew her hand back. Her eyes returned to the stars as she sipped her wine and ate the dessert. For the time, her thoughts remained her own.

He quietly finished his cobbler, and took a long drink of Broot to wash it down. He didn't trust himself to say anything, or do anything other than look at the stars. His head was spinning from their conversations and her closeness.

When her plate and glass are empty, she continued to watch the stars in silence, enjoying being there for the time. It is with a sad smile she turned back to Gren, "I should be on my way."

Gren nods, mutely at first, his face a mixture of longing and apprehension. "Let me get my cloak, so I can walk you home."

"... I would like the walk to think..." Standing up, she picked up the dishes to take them back down to the kitchen. "..but I will see you Saturday."

"If you say so." He felt nervous about her walking home alone, but he didn't want to force her either. He trailed after her to the kitchen. "Yeah, Saturday. Do you want me to come by the Inn and get you? We can walk together."

Setting the dishes in the sink, she packed up what needed to return to the inn with her. Stopping, she placed a hand to Gren's cheek. "I will meet you at the Arena." Her thumb brushed over his cheek and she pulled away.

Unconsciously, he leaned his cheek into her hand when she touched him, "If that's what you want. I will see you at the Arena." He walked down the remaining steps with her to the door, which he then opened for her. "Until then. Thanks for coming tonight. And the vegetables."

"Thank you for dinner, Gren... and the company. Keep yourself safe." The basket in hand, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. She took a few steps back before she turned to start the walk home.

"You take care . . . too." He added weakly, watching her go. He then shut the door, and stared at it for a moment. "I love you, for Christ's sake. Why didn't I say that?" He slumped his shoulders and sighed, then hurriedly made his way up the steps to his bedroom, where he looked out his window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Izira walking back to the Inn.

On to the inn she walked, through the view of Gren's window. As if sensing eyes on her, she looked up and smiled. A short wave given, she mouthed the word 'Saturday' to him, before she continued on her way under the trees.

He gently lifted his hand, and returned her wave, and the smile, although he didn't know if she could see it or not. He watched her until she disappeared in the darkness, then lowered his head a moment, before turning to look at his bed. He was exhausted both mentally and physically after the last few weeks. The dishes in the sink could wait. He pulled off his shirt, pants, and boots, and went right to bed. Saturday, he thought, before he drifted off to sleep.

[Gren Blockman]

Outside the Arena

Saturday, October 19, 2013



When Gren and Izira were finished at the Arena, he escorted her to the door and opened it for her. Gren shut the door behind them and broke down in embarrassment. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Izira. I lose all three duels, then that woman flirts with me right in front of you! I have no idea who she is, I swear!"

"I suspect she flirted with you because you are attractive." She gave a quirk of a smile as she watched him, then handed him the book and boxes of scented candles that Rena gave her to carry. "I mind little that a woman known or unknown flirts with you. I must admit my concern at you not... defending yourself? I am speaking outside of dueling. What would you have done had Janie been even more forward?"

He took the candles and boxes from her and looks sheepish. "I don't know what I would have done. At the time, I just didn't want to make a scene. You were there and I . . . aw, geez. If you weren't there, I probably would have just run away, I guess."

"I believe you are strong enough to stand your ground, Gren, even though you might not. Men are allowed to say no, you know."

"I know", he said that quietly. "It's not that I like women flirting with me, sometimes I'm just afraid to say no, I guess."

"Why?" There was a curious tilt of her head, as she tied up her trench coat against the night's air.

"I'm . . . afraid. Afraid they'll get mad. Take it as rejection. Afraid they won't listen, then I'll look weak." He sighed. "I know I can't run away all the time."

"It is a rejection, is it not?" She softly chuckled, "If they do not listen the first time, you will just have to repeat yourself firmly until the point gets across. If not for your own sake, for mine?"

He looked deeply at her when she said the word "mine". "Yes, you're right. I will. I never cheated on anyone I was with, not that I know of, but I know I need to handle those situations better. I'll try in the future. No, I will."

She gave a soft nod. "With Alain... the cover for his job required him to play the role of a playboy and to keep me at arm’s length when in public. I know he did nothing to truly betray me while we were together, but it hurt to watch him play a role. I would not like to feel foolish in that way again..."

The realization of what she had said to him started to sink in. "Uhh . . . no, I understand. I don't want you to be hurt. I wanted tonight to be special. I was so glad you came. I just wasn't expecting things to go wrong like that. Everything just got me . . . flustered."

"Did it truly go that wrong?" She fluttered her lashes as she looked to him with some concern.

"Well, it just . . . seemed that way." He sighed and dropped his head. "I'm glad you got to see Rena and Noira. And talk to Jaycy. It made me feel good to see you talking with people, after all that time . . . ", he trailed off. "No, maybe things didn't go *that* wrong."

"We are here, together." She offered as further argument that the night had not gone that bad at all.

"Yes. Yes we are." He watched her closely for a few moments. "Can I . . . walk you home?"

"That was already the plan, was it not? Or are you afraid that I changed my mind?"

"I just wanted to make sure the plan was still . . . in effect." He winced slightly, but covered it with a hopeful smile.

"It is, providing you take care of my items." A nod of her head to the book and boxes he carried, with a teasing smile.

He stared at her, then down at the boxes as if seeing them for the first time. "Oh! Of course. I will guard them with every fiber of my being. I know how important candles can be to an Innkeeper." He managed the joke, his tension beginning to dissipate a bit as she confirmed she still wanted to walk with him.

She softly chuckled as she placed a hand to his arm and started on the journey home.

He walked down the street for a little ways, before looking back at her. "Izira . . . I'm no playboy. And I would never keep you at arm’s length."

"Tonight has... reassured me of that. Even with Janie”, she said, soft smiling.

"Good." He gulped a bit, then fell silent again. He knew this was the night that Izira was going to make her decision. Part of him was anxious, and hopeful, but another part of him was afraid. Afraid just like she had told him that night, that everything could go wrong. He didn't know what more to say or do at that point, other than to walk down the street with her next to him.

[Gren Blockman]

The silence and the walk continued, minutes passing before she spoke again, "You have yet to ask me your question again. Do you still wish an answer?"

"Yes, I do." He tried to keep his voice steady, but the combination of fear and anticipation cause the words to come out like a soft whisper.

Her steps paused and she turned to him, amber-brown eyes taking in his ice blues. "I care for you... as more than a friend." She paused as she watched his reaction. "I cannot say more than that. It has been a long time and I... find it difficult to fully let go of my... solitude", she said with an apologetic smile. "But... you make it easier for me to consider a life... different that than which I had expected. With time."

He paused as she did. He lowered his head a bit at her answer. He looked away from her, and down the street, before looking in her eyes again. "If that is the way it is, then I will accept it. But I want you to know . . . I still see you as my dream. You're the closest thing I'll ever come to it. And even if you never want me as anything more than a friend . . . I want you to know I'm glad I found you, Izira."

Her expression softened at his words, tinted a bit with sympathy. She stepped closer, placing a light hand to his cheek, her thumb slowly stroking his skin. "Remember your oath in regards to my belongings." She was speaking of the book and boxes. Before any further explanation comes, she lightly lifts up on her toes to bring her lips to meet Gren's. A soft and short kiss before she parted. "I am only saying I need to take this slow... but I am willing to see where this may lead."

Gren tried not to lean too hard into the kiss. He felt very bewildered by the events that night, by her answer, and by her touch and kiss. "I understand. I can take things slow. Whatever you need me to do. I'm glad you're giving me . . . us, a chance."

Perhaps she loaded him up with her things for a reason. She smiled and stepped back, turning and continuing on the way. "Now you have a reasonable excuse to... reject other women." She glanced to him from the corner of her eye, "You are seeing someone... if that is agreeable to you?"

"Uhhh . . . Yes. That is totally agreeable to me. I mean, I can work with that, sure. Us, you know, seeing each other."

She smiled, glancing back over to him. "I am glad."

"I'm glad too." He smiled gently at her. He suddenly thought he's glad his hands were full when Izira kissed him, because he wasn't sure what he'd have done if his hands were free. He continued down the street beside her, processing in his mind what just happened.

Enjoying the silence of their walk, she did not feel the need to speak again.

He held the candles and the book to his chest, as they leave the city behind and enter the forest beyond. He glanced at her occasionally, watching her face, the way she walked. He felt unable to speak, and probably wouldn't have known what to say, anyway.

Through the forest she walked, oddly at place in her heels. When they reached the gate to her realm she slipped through without a sign of the portal she passed through, only a slight change in the feel of the air. When she turned she saw Gren's passage causing a blue light, "Curious... I have never seen it do that before."

He halted when she says that, and his eyes darted around. "Is there . . . something wrong with me? I'm not going to uh spontaneously combust, am I?"

"There is nothing wrong with you." Softly chuckling, she stepped to him to kiss him lightly again, to reassure him that he was not about to spontaneously combust. "Perhaps is it a lingering reaction to you coming through the tear? The color looked much like the one the tear made when Jeremiah looked at it."

He quieted momentarily as she kissed him again. "Maybe. Maybe it's the magical staff. Messing around with it may have, done something to me. I hope not, but . . .”

"You didn't go asking it to grant you more wishes, did you?" She teased him with a smile.

[Gren Blockman]

"Heh", he smiled back. "Well, I did ask for a million silver nobles and my own castle, but apparently those kinds of things are beyond its powers."

"You have grown tired of your treehouse?"

"No, I'm quite fond of my treehouse. But if someone ever learned the secret knock . . . there goes my million silver nobles."

"I would share."

"Would you now? Well that's mighty generous of you. And with *my* money no less."

"Perhaps you have run up quite the tab at the inn."

"Oh, now I have a *tab*? So all that generosity was a ruse? And all my box lifting and wood chopping was for nothing? I tell you, just when I thought this night couldn't get any worse . . .”

She softly chuckled as they came upon the inn, the lights coming to life at her approach. She moved up the steps on the porch and stopped there. "Thank you for walking me home."

"You're welcome. Hey, uh . . . would you mind if I came in for just a moment? To set these on the bar. I wanted to give you something before I left."

"For a moment." She agreed, moving and opening the door to the inn. The place belonged to them for the time. Once Gren is through the door with her items, she followed. The tie of her trench coat undone, she slipped it off and laid it to rest over the bar.

Gren set the candles and the book on the bar, then fished around in his cloak for what he wanted to give her. He closed it in his hand, and turned to look at her. "Since we're seeing each other now, I want to give you something to remember me by. Something you can keep close to your heart, so you know I'm thinking of you." He held out his hand, and there was the silver locket, with the pearl-crusted lily. "You told me this was one of your favorite flowers, so I thought you would like it."

Izira stepped forward, touching the locket as it rested in his hand. Her fingertips brushed over the silver of the locket and the flesh of Gren's skin. "It is lovely..." Amber-brown eyes looked up to him, "I do like it. Thank you." Slowly drawing her hand away, "Would you?" She moved to lift her hair and turn her back slightly to him, looking over her shoulder when she asked him to assist her in putting the locket on.

"Of course." Gren leaned forward, gently slipping the chain around her neck, and clasping the lock. He felt his hands touch her neck, and he rested them on her shoulders when he finished. "There you are. I think it looks lovely." He was standing inches from her, watching her looking back at him.

Her hand lifted up to brush against the locket once it hung in place, before turning to better face him. "It is a very thoughtful gift."

Gren let one hand fall to his side, although he kept the other hand where it was. "I'm glad you like it. You deserve a gift, after all the kindness you've shown me."

She smiles and her eyes lower to the locket, unsure of what to say further.

After a long pause, he spoke up. "I'm going to be busy for the next two days. The Diamond Quest is tomorrow night, and there is an IFL Meet and Greet on Monday. The team I'm on, Badside Brawlers, will be there, and I should be too. I can come back on Tuesday, if that is alright."

"It is alright, yes. I will look forward to seeing you then."

"I . . .” He wanted to say so much more to her, but the night had been eventful enough. Maybe enough words had been spoken. The hand he had on her shoulder slid down her back to pull her toward him, while he cupped her cheek in his other hand. He then leaned in and kissed her full on the lips, trying to convey how he felt in the warmth and depth of it.

Her return was hesitant at first, equaling more of those delicate kisses she bestowed on the walk there, before gently matching him. She parted before the kiss became more, feeling her own desire. Her lips come together, still feeling the press of his kiss. "Tuesday."

He nodded quietly, his ice blue eyes looking deep into hers, before he let her go. "I will see you then. Good night, and take care, Izira." He broke out into a warm smile, before he turned away from her, and hastily made his way to the door.

"Safe travels, Gren."

He looked back, still smiling, before pushing his way out the door, and out of the Inn. He made his way down the gravel path, and didn't pay attention to the blue lights as he vanished from the realm, lost in his own thoughts.

[Gren Blockman]

Tuesday, October 22, 2013



Gren couldn't wait until Tuesday came. The past two days had been restless ones for him, as he waited to be able to see Izira again. He had done his best at Diamond Quest 75, with two comeback wins to make it to the semi-finals against Harris. Unfortunately, due to a crushing headbutt to his nose, he was eliminated. Third place wasn't bad, though, especially with the impending start of IFL. The Meet and Greet on Monday made him think of Izira even more, as it was held in the Great Helm Tavern, the place he had met her for the first time. It was nice to see so many people there, but it would have been even nicer to see Izira at the Tavern again. Tuesday dawned, and he quickly got bathed and dressed. He whistled to himself all morning, and couldn't help but grin in the mirror. He wore his black Badside Brawlers hoodie, thinking the extra promotion for IFL couldn't hurt if someone saw him. He made his way on the usual trek to the portal, and Izira's words came back to him as the blue lights flashed. I hope there's not something wrong, he worried. Putting those fears aside as he saw the familiar Inn, he almost ran up the path and up the steps. He grabbed the doorknob and pushed his way into the Inn, pulling the black hood back, as his ice blue gaze searched for Izira.

Izira sat at the bar on the patron side, legs cross under her grey skirt. A tucked in white blouse and grey heels were worn with the skirt. Her brown hair fell in loose waves. As Gren entered she looked up, the smile on her features spread further seeing that it was him. The small book in her hand was closed and set on the bar as she stood up. Her hands ran over her skirt to smooth it out. "Gren."

"Izira!" He broke out into a broad smile and quickly walked over to where she was standing at the bar. His nose was still discolored and a bit scabby from his injury. He grabbed her around the waist and gave her a quick kiss, then leaned back so he could take a good look at her. "I missed you."

Lost in his eyes and smile, she did not immediately notice his nose. Her heart got away from her at his greeting. Her hands rested on his arms as he held her waist. She smiled at his words, a soft genuine one, "I mis--- what happened to your nose?" Concern painted her features as her hand rose up to touch the air above his bruised nose.

He probably stared at her face a full three seconds before he realized her concern. Then he blinked, and raised his right hand reflexively to rub it. "Oh! I . . . uh . . . was in the Diamond Quest Sunday night. I made it to the semi-finals and had to face Harris D'Artainian, one of the all time greats. He . . . uh, headbutted me right in the nose, and I lost. But I came in third place. Not too shabby, heh." He had forgotten all about his nose in the excitement of seeing her again.

"You did not lie when you said it could get intense." The hand moved from the air by his nose and down his cheek, "Does it hurt much? Or does it look worse than it feels?"

He tried not to wince at her hand, because he wanted to feel her touch after three days. "It looks worse. I'll be alright in a few days. I wouldn't even had remembered it if you hadn't said something." He didn't say that in a tough guy manner, more like someone that had something else more important on his mind. The look he gave her says that something was her.

She wouldn't rank herself above her concern for him and so it continued. "Did someone look at it?" Izira had little experience with fighting for sport and it showed. She couldn't tell if the injury was more serious or not, but it did not look great. Her hand returned to his arm.

The concern in her eyes touched his heart, and he wanted to kiss her again for it, but he restrained himself with difficulty, so he could ease her fears. "It's just bruises. It will heal in a few days. Nothing was broken. If it was, my nose would be a rather flat shape right now." He chuckled slightly. "I'm fine, really."

A soft nod, "I am glad it is not broken and flat. I rather like your face the way it is." Tipping up on her toes, she placed a kiss to his lips to confirm her words. "Are you hungry? I have not made anything yet. I did not know what our plans would be outside of seeing each other."

He returns her kiss gently. "I could eat something. Yeah, I hadn't really thought of anything more than just getting to see you again."

She softly chuckled. "Simply seeing me surely cannot sustain you. What would you like to eat?" Izira remained in Gren's hold, not yet removing herself from his presence to approach the kitchen.

"Heh, geez, I rushed right over here and didn't even eat breakfast. Didn't realize how hungry I was. How about a Turkey Sandwich? And a Broot, of course."

"Of course." She smiled for him, now stepping from his hold. Heels softly sound as she moved around the bar to first fetch his drink. Izira opened the Broot and set it on the bar for him, by the small black book she'd been looking through. It was a book of pressed flowers. As she moved to the kitchen door and her hand touched the locket that rested just beneath the color of her blouse. Then she was out of view.

[Gren Blockman]

He watched her with that goofy grin as she moved around the bar, and it got even wider when she touched the locket. She's wearing it! Gren almost let loose a dreamy sigh. He sat down on the stool, grabbed the Broot and took a long sip, before glancing at the book out of the corner of his eye. He looked between the door and the book several times before he got his curiosity in check. He figured he'd just ask her about it when she came back. He took a long glance around the Inn, to see if Silas was there, or if anything had changed since his absence.

The cat and ravens remained absent from the Inn's interior. The only thing different would be the slight smell of autumn scents, thanks to Rena's candles. Izira soon returned with the turkey sandwich, without mayo, and a bowl of large plump grapes.

"Alright! Looks good. Hey, maybe we can take that walk in the forest I had to take a rain check on last week." He said, before picking up the sandwich and taking a big bite.

"I would like that. There is a nice spring not to far that I could show you."

He smiled and popped a few of the grapes in his mouth. "See? Plenty to do." He grinned. "I wish you could've been with me yesterday. The IFL Meet and Greet? They had it at the Great Helm Tavern! Heh, it reminded me of the 'ol' days'."

"Were there many people there?" She pulled up her stool to sit across from him as he ate. She was curious to hear about events since she'd last seen him.

"Oh yeah, there were at least two dozen, maybe thirty people there. People are getting fired up for the IFL season to start. It's been six years since the last season. I was happy for Jewell, she planned it, and it was a great success. I had to do some advertising for my team, of course." He turned around a bit to show the Badside Brawlers logo on his hoodie.

"Badside... Brawlers." She read the words on his hoodie. "How did you come to be a part of... them?"

“Jake Thrash is the Team Captain, and he owns the Red Orc Brewery. The Brewery is most famous for Badsider Ale. But it also makes Badsider Broot, which *I* am the spokesperson for. So Jake asked me to join the team. I can fight and promote his product at the same time."

"Jake must be a very wise business man."

"Yeah, he does well for himself. I think Badsider products must be the most popular brand of ale on the market. I guess. I'm not really up on the alcoholic beverages. I know there is Silver Mark, and . . . " His eyes go wide as he remembers something he heard, and he puts two and two together. "Silver Mark . . . that's the ale that . . . " The ale that Alain makes. "Sorry. Man, I didn't realize that until just now."

Izira's mind was trying to recall if she'd heard much about Badsider during her previous times in RhyDin, but before she could decide one way or another, Gren mentioned Silver Mark. Her smile faltered, but she shook her head. "Do not apologize." She paused and then made the best of the conversation. "I met Alain just before he launched his bar. I take it his business continues to do well."

"Yeah, I guess." He changed the subject. "Well, I'm glad Jake went into soft drinks. The current Governor, Rekah Silverblades, actually gave him the idea. She was pregnant and the time, and suggested he invent a Root Beer. He must've taken it to heart, because Broot came out not long after. I used to drink it all the time. People like Candy used to tease me about it, because they all drink beer or ale. She called me "Brootman". Then when I won the Diamond, it was like "Hey, Gren drinks Broot and he won the Diamond, so you can too!" Or something."

Gren was tossing out a number of names that she didn't know, but she tried to follow his words as she listened. "I hope to meet more of your friends."

"I'd love to introduce you to my friends at the Outback. Maybe if we get back in time from our walk, and you're not too busy, we could go there tonight! I know more people there then the Arena."

"If we are back in time I would like that." She stood up, moving to fetch herself a glass of water to drink beforehand. "If we are not... we may go another day."

"Great!" He finished off the sandwich as he talked, and started to eat the grapes as she got her water. "What kind of book where you reading?"

"There is little to read of it. I was merely enjoying it." She waved a hand for him to see the book's contents for himself. Inside various flowers had been pressed. A penciled note marked the name of each in a handwriting that did not match Izira's.

He wiped his hand on a napkin before flipping through the pages, looking at the dried flowers curiously, and the handwriting in the book. "These flowers . . . why do you have them stuck in a book like this?"

"You have never heard of flower pressing?" She set an empty glass in the sink and moved over to Gren. "It is a way to preserve flowers." Amber-brown eyes looked to the page he was on. "I found the volume in my library some time ago. I find it... peaceful to look through at times."

"Yeah, I've seen it . . . once or twice. When someone had a flower from a special moment they wanted to save. But not a whole book like this. I noticed that wasn't your handwriting, either. I didn't mean to pry, I was just curious." He continued flipping the pages, while munching on the last of the grapes.

"Gren..." She reached out a hand for his. "Please do not feel as though you are prying... I want you to feel comfortable enough to ask me anything. I... might not be as ready or able to answer... but what I can answer, I will."

He glanced up from the book, catching her gaze, and smiled sheepishly, holding her hand briefly. "Alright, Izira. That was more my own insecurities talking. I'm used to feeling nervous and thinking people don't want me to intrude on them. I *do* feel comfortable around you. It may just take a little time for my mind to register that", he finished by turning his sheepish smile into a gentle one.

Her hand in his, she reached the other to gentle cup his cheek. She leaned across the table to give him a longer kiss. "I hope that encourages your mind to catch up. Are you ready for our walk?"

He closed his eyes as they kiss, and he blinked rapidly as she pulled away. "Uh . . . yeah! The walk. Let's go, I'm ready." He ate the last grape and forgot about the book. He stood up from the barstool and adjusted his hoodie.

[Gren Blockman]

She picked up his dishes and set them in the sink before coming around the bar. "Will you tell me more about your weekend while we walk?"

"Certainly. I didn't tell you about who I faced in the Diamond Quest." He said, walking up to her, preparing to follow her lead.

There was a pause, but she decided to take his hand, leading him toward the front door and out to the path. "Did you have many opponents?"

He looked in a bit of awe at her hand wrapped around his. His faraway look meant he almost forgot to answer her. He snapped out of it and looked back in her face. "Yeah, I had five matches. The first one was against a young woman named King. I don't know her very well, but she is the holder of one of the Opals, MoonBeryl."

"Opals?" She turned from the path toward a smaller route that led into the woods, her amber-brown eyes looking to Gren curiously.

"Opals. How do I explain that? Well, there's five of them. FireStar, IceDancer, PathFinder, ShadoWeaver, and MoonBeryl. They are . . . let's say jewels with magical powers that the fighters compete for. It's like a secondary title apart from the Diamond. People say they can talk to their holder. I've been a bit hesitant about challenging for one, although I feel I need to one day, just to say I held one."

"And the King woman holds one?" She looked curious and amazed.

"Yes, she has MoonBeryl. I'm trying to remember what powers it has . . . Oh yeah, you can levitate things with it, and whatever you touch will instantly drop in weight, so you can throw things around easier."

"That... should come in handy during a fight, I imagine."

"Oh, yeah. You could take a big half-orc like Jake and flip him around like a rag doll, I would imagine."

A half-orc. She took that information in. "How did you fare against her?"

"I did pretty well. Beat her 5-2 in 7 rounds. I can't remember ever facing her before, so I was lucky. Sometimes it's hard to fight a person if you don't know what their fighting style is."

"Lucky and not good at what you do? You are a former Diamond, are you not?"

He chuckled quietly. "Yes, I am. But I'm going against the top fighters in RhyDin. Everyone in the Diamond Quest has the potential to beat you. You never know how good someone is until you step in the ring against them."

She kept their hands together as she moved through the path, leading the way when it narrowed. "Who did you fight next?"

He glanced around at the scenery, taking in the fresh, open air. "Well, the next round I got a bye, because there were an odd number of fighters in the Tournament. Thirteen fighters to be exact. So after that, I faced a woman named Rachel Douglas. She was a former MoonBeryl holder. She jumped out to a 3-1 lead in the first 3 rounds, but I came back and finally beat her in the 9th round, 6-5."

"That sounds quite the comeback." She was judging only by the number. "Are there many female duelists? I know Rena told me that she dueled on occasion."

"Oh, yeah, there are plenty. Seems that most of the newer, successful ones are female. Melanie is a Mandalorian, and she went from Glass, the lowest rank, to holding an Opal in 34 days. That's unheard of."

She softly chuckled. "Unheard of, perhaps, but it sounds as though it happened."

"It did happen. I thought she was going to be in the Diamond Quest, but she disappeared before it started. I hope she's okay. She's kind of . . . brash." It was a nice way of saying she talked a lot of smack. "But she seems . . . nice enough. Well, let's just say she's friendly in a brash sort of way."

"Friendly to you?" She was recalling Janie from Saturday night, her smile was teasing.

"Uhhh . . .” He caught her look and turned a bit pink. "Well, she's friendly enough to me. I don't think I'd want to . . . be more than friends with Melanie. She's a bit too . . . forward." He was trying to think of a delicate way to put it, and couldn't put it any nicer than that.

"You seem to attract forward women." She replied with a stroke of her thumb to soothe him. "What of your next fight?"

"Well . . . it's not . . . " He cleared his throat and continues. "Anyway, then I had to face Jake. Yes, Jake Thrash, my Captain and Boss. He's a big, strong half-orc. He clobbered me, pretty much. Lost 5-1 in 8 rounds. But in this Tournament, you are eliminated when you've lost twice. So I went into the Loser's bracket after that."

"You had two more fights, then? The man that headbutted your nose and someone else?"

"Yes, the other man's name was Sartan. I had faced him before, when I won DQ 73. He's a tough guy, won the Diamond 3 times before. He almost beat me, he had me down 4-1, but I somehow managed to fight back and win 5-4."

"You do far better when I am not around." She gave a soft chuckle as she ducked under a low branch, "Watch your head."

"Whoop!" He lowered his head just in time, then looked back for a minute. "I get distracted sometimes. Heh. I just had an off night on Saturday. Don't let that discourage you from coming by to see me when you can."

In the distance, water could be heard. "Distracted by me?"

"No! You didn't distract me, I meant I was so busy rambling on I was distracted and didn't see the tree branch. You're fine. Really." He glanced ahead, hearing the sound of the water.

"Rambling." She chuckled softly, stopping. "Tell me one positive thing about yourself, Gren."

"Uhhhh . . .” There was a long pause. "I know when I'm rambling too much?"

[Gren Blockman]

She didn't look like she accepted that answer.

He sighed a bit, shoulders slumped in defeat. "One positive thing, huh?"

"I can think of several. You should be able to think of one."

Gren stared at her blankly for a few long moments. "I don't . . . uh . . .” He looked away, then back as though it is painful for him to answer her. "I like to help people. Protect them. When I can."

She had an answer, but she did not look happy, seeing the expression he made along with giving it. For a moment, she was at a loss for words.

He lowers his head, ashamed. "I'm not used to thinking positively about myself."

"You are worth thinking positively about."

'I'm not . . . " Comfortable with this, he was going to finish. He didn't want to upset Izira anymore, so he tried to shift the subject slightly. "Why don't you tell me what one of those positive things are?"

"Would you believe me if I told you? Or would you find some way to shrug it off?"

"I don't know." His face was wavering, as if she was about to slap him.

Izira looked torn. She sadly smiled and turned away, keeping her hold on his hand. "The spring is close."

He nodded quietly, following beside her. He felt ashamed and very sad, for some reason. Unconsciously, he squeezed Izira's hand tighter. He wanted to apologize, but he didn't quite know what to say.

She returned the squeeze lightly, but like him remained silent. Distracted by her own thoughts, she continued to lead the way.

Whenever he would get like this, in his early days as a Ranger, he would practice mantras, or meditate, like the veterans would do to steady their mind for a mission or a battle. He focused on his breathing, using his stomach to push out and take more air in. He focused on the scent of the trees, the sound of the water flowing, the birds chirping, the rustling of the leaves in the wind. It always seemed to calm him, to a degree.

Izira's steps paused as though she might say something more. Instead, she continued to move on again. The sounds of the water were closer, a glimpse of the spring could be seen through the trees.

Gren always did enjoy a waterfall. His wavering face and sadness almost instantly turn to pleasure and fascination at the white, falling waters. "Oh, that's just . . . that is so beautiful." Distracted now, he looks at the falls for a few moments before glancing back at Izira.

She tried to smile for Gren, but it is hindered by her own thoughts. "It is." She let go of Gren's hand and moved closer, finding a rocky outcropping to sit on.

He peered at the falls for a few seconds, then caught Izira's movement to the rock. He followed behind her, and sat down next to her. Silent for a few minutes, he pulled his knees to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them. "You told me there were things you weren't comfortable about telling me yet. I understood. There are things I'm not comfortable talking about, about myself. It's painful for me as well. I would hope you would understand, and not think it a reflection on you."

She sat there, watching the waters, silent for a time after Gren spoke. When she responded she did not sound angry, only curious, "You compare the time I spent as little more than a slave to your... difficulty in seeing the good in yourself?" Amber-brown eyes looked back to Gren, "I do not think of it as a reflection of me, Gren. I... I only have to wonder how you expect someone else to love you when it seems you do not see yourself worth loving."

"I didn't mean to compare the two. I can't imagine being held as a slave like you were. I only meant to let you know there are things I don't feel comfortable talking about either. There is this giant, painful fear in me that leaps out whenever I am focused on myself. I feel it will swallow me. I don't know how to describe it. I'm not doing this for sympathy, or for show. I don't know how to make it go away. I just try to distract myself. Lose myself in my job, in helping others. I find meaning and worth there. So I focus my thoughts on that. It's why I duel, to make me a better Ranger. I thought . . . one day, maybe it will go away. Maybe I will find someone, and everything will work out."

Quietly, she watched him, wondering about the fear that overcame him, wondering at the source. Her smile is still a little sad for his explanation. She turned and rested her back against the rock, looking up to the sky. Her ankles crossed. She listened to the water's movements. "Have you always experienced that fear?"

"Yes. Ever since I can remember." He remained with his knees curled to his chest, looking out at the water. "It was worse when I first started as a Ranger. I didn't know who I was or where I was. I had these horrible bouts of claustrophobia, and . . . " He stopped and shut his eyes for a moment, then opened them. "One day, when I was going through training, the instructors were going to teach us how to escape from a prison, and remove a rope that had been tied around our hands. They chose a volunteer, me, from the recruits as an example. When they tied the rope around my wrists, I started to get incredibly nervous, my whole body was shaking. Then when they put me in the box and closed the lid . . . I lost it. I started screaming like a banshee and slamming my head against it until blood shot out of my forehead. They almost kicked me out that day, but Perrigan gave me another chance, because he knew what had happened to me."

Izira remembered the story he told her, Gren coming from the woods covered in blood... not all of it his. Her head turned toward him, brown hair fanned out over the rock beneath her. Concern is clearly etched into her features, but she doesn't know what to say. She was afraid the thoughts that came to her mind were not questions he was ready to hear. Her hand moved over the rock to brush fingertips against his side.

Her brief touch comforted him. He thought he had almost lost her. He lowered his hand to take hers in his again. "Izira, I don't want to not love myself. I hope and pray one day that I'll be fine. Please understand. I want you to know . . . ever since I met you, it's had a positive effect on me. I feel calmer, more hopeful. I feel like my dream is coming true." He wanted to tell her how much he loved and needed her. "I . . . don't want to lose you, Izira."

"I am here." They both were, for the time--with whatever demons from their past still haunted them. She smiled and hoped the simple words are enough for now.

[Gren Blockman]

"So am I. For me to make the journeys here, for me to share with you what I have, for me to even kiss you, you wouldn't believe what a step forward that is for me. Usually, I wait for the woman to come to me." He laughed quietly. "Maybe that's why I haven't had many girlfriends."

"Perhaps that is what leads others to believe... incorrect... details about you." She continued to rest on the rock, laid out, but no longer looking to the sky. Amber-brown eyes watched Gren, and the hand he held hers with.

"Uh heh", he laughed in spite of himself, "Yes, my incurable case of virginity. Well, that's one part. The other part is that I supposedly have a problem with sex, which I don't. I just need to feel . . . loved. Secure and stable, before I can be . . . intimate. It's not the sex, it's the intimacy that scares me."

Izira's expression is almost blank but for her smile, trying for comforting. She glanced away and to the tree limbs and sky above them. There was a long silence before she added, "I have been... intimate with very few. But... I have had sex with many." Her amber-browns continued to look up.

He gulped at the "sex with many" part, but he acknowledged the being intimate with few. "It's more than just being guarded. I don't know what it's like in your case, but for me, it's like stone cold panic. So I just avoided it as much as possible, and those feelings don't pop up to bother me."

Her thoughts dipped toward how it was... how it could have been, recalling Errand in the library with her and how close he'd gotten. She swallowed regret and went for a lighter tone, "I will be sure not to try and take advantage of you."

He blinked at the statement, and turned to look at her at that point. "No. You don't understand. It's not . . . " He sighs, and rubs his forehead.

"If I do not understand, explain it to me."

"God, I can't believe I'm talking about sex with you. I feel like I'm in a parallel dimension or something. Haven't you ever wanted to feel loved? I mean, not "he or she is a swell guy", but love like, that person is the person I want to be with for the rest of my life? I want to share everything with them, and not even think about anyone but them?"

"Yes. With a few."

"Now imagine if that one thing you want more than anything else is the one thing that scares the living hell out of you more than anything else. Does *that* makes sense?"

"It does. It is allowing yourself to be vulnerable."

"*Allowing* yourself to be vulnerable. And what if you're already vulnerable? It's like standing there while somebody aims a loaded gun at you."

"Already vulnerable?" Her head turned and amber-brown eyes looked to Gren again.

"You said "allowing", as if there is some kind of shield you let down so you can be vulnerable. What happens if you don't have a shield to protect yourself with?"

"I do not know, Gren. It has been different for me..."

"Let me explain further. Some people get angry. That person is a jerk, or they broke my heart, however you want to put it. But what if you're not capable of getting mad? Some people can just bounce from one person to the next, with no fear or regret. But what if you can't help but fear? What if you can't help but regret? All that anger, fear, and regret turns inwards. And you can't get rid of it. So you just endlessly beat yourself up."

"This sounds much like returning to you being unable to see yourself as someone worthy... have you never been angry?"

"When people wrong *me*? No, I can't remember. I get angry when others get hurt. Or I feel powerless to help someone."

She gave a soft nod of understanding.

"Izira, I'm not afraid of us having seh . . . oh, God." He pinched the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. "Let me rephrase that. I'm not afraid of you. I don't think you're going to hurt me. You don't belittle me, and you don't pressure me. I'm just trying to get you to understand why I feel the way I do. I'm not saying I'm right to feel this way. It's just . . . time. It's support, as well. When I'm out in the field as a Ranger, I'm alone most of the time. The others aren't that friendly or supportive, they usually just mock me. It's hard to establish self-confidence in a situation like that."

She took all of his words in, thinking about him alone with the woods and the way others treated him. When he was done her thoughts circles back to his first sentence. "I am afraid of us having sex."

[Gren Blockman]

"*You* are?" He looked at her incredulously at first, then covered it so she didn't think he was trying to mock her. He adopted a more concerned look, because that's how he really felt. "Why would you be afraid of that?"

"Aside from the few I have been intimate with.... sex has been... an escape. A way to forget myself, submit and surrender. A way to not be present. I am afraid... of that desire in me to feel that way."

Gren looked at her sadly, for several reasons. He understood about her hurtful past, and her desire to escape. He escaped himself, just internally, locking himself away from people. He was also sad because he thought she didn't want to be intimate with him, although again, he understood why. "I would hope, Izira . . . that I would be more to you than just a means for you to escape."

"And I would wish that you could see yourself as I see you. Perhaps someday."

"How do you see me, Izira? Maybe I'm ready to hear it now."

"And if you are not?" A brow was raised at him, before she turned back to the sky.

"If I'm not . . . I'll file it away in my mind for future re-consideration." He tried to smile a bit.

She gave a soft, barely made chuckle. She exhaled and sat up, pulling her legs around her as she leaned closer to Gren. "You are handsome." She put the obvious out there for starters.

He put his arm around her shoulders, focusing his ice blue eyes on hers, letting her know he's listening to her intently. "I can live with that one." He kept his little smile.

"You are one of the most kindhearted men I have ever met."

He looked like he was wavering on that one, but the smile held. "I'm still with you."

"You are sweet to the point that you put the comfort of others before yourself."

He nodded softly. His grip seemed to tighten, whether to comfort her, or steady himself.

She paused when his grip tightened, but continued. "You are brave."

He gave a light chuckle, thinking about his job, or stepping in the ring with someone like Jake or Harris, but he refrained from making a joke, as he didn't want to spoil the moment.

She paused at his laugh with a curious frown.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't laughing at you. I was just thinking I'd have to be brave to get in the ring with a muscular half-orc like Jake, or charge up a hill and fifty pissed off goblins trying to kill me. Basically, I'm agreeing with you. Humbly, of course." He gave her a little wink.

Izira accepted that and continued, "You are patient."

"I try to be." He was still watching her.

"You are understanding and thoughtful and caring."

"I can accept that." He said that a bit jokingly, but really he's finding himself more at ease as Izira spoke.

"Can you say it all back to me?"

"Uhhhhh . . .” He gave one of his patented bewildered looks and gulped.

"Do you believe my words?"

He smiled then at Izira. "Yes, I believe you. And I can say it back to you. You said I was handsome. I'm one of the most kindhearted men you've met. I am sweet in that I put others comfort over my own. I am brave, patient, understanding, thoughtful, and caring. Does that cover it?"

Izira smiled, lifting her hand and drawing Gren into a kiss. It lingered before she drew her lips away but pressed her forehead to his. "Perhaps a fraction of all that is worthy in you."

If he had any tension, it melted away at the kiss, and he leaned his forehead against hers, also. "Well, I didn't fall apart. So that's a good thing. But you know, Izira, I need you to believe me too. Believe me when I tell you I find you to be one of the most kindhearted women I ever met. Believe me when I tell you that you are sweet, and put others comfort over your own. Believe me when I tell you that *you* are brave, patient, understanding, thoughtful, and caring. You're also strong, resilient, intelligent, and artistic. That tune you played on the piano that day, it almost broke my heart. Believe me when I tell you . . . I love you, Izira."