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[Arcana]

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Arlin drummed his fingers on the table, turning to glance expectantly at the teleporter for the eighth time in three minutes. Sighing at its obstinate emptiness, he turned back towards Private Katya as she and a lass named Merlina, a recruit of the Knights of Sosaria, exchanged greetings. A handful of other AOF and KOS also sat at the table.

His ears caught the sound of a particular quiet, soft-booted tread, and he stood up and turned toward the sound, smiling as he saw Arcana approaching. She returned the grin as Arlin wrapped his arms tightly around her in an enthusiastic bear hug. She squeaked faintly as he squeezed her a bit too hard, and he let go, looking a bit bashful. She patted his cheek fondly.

“Hello, stranger,” she said, and they both chuckled. They’d been apart for several days now, taking care of their respective guild’s involved diplomatic affairs. “How are you?”

“Lots better now ,” he said contentedly, weary thoughts of Yew and the Ebon Skull fading away in the presence of the lady he so adored.

They sat down and had hardly set out the first round of drinks before the tavern suddenly filled with a large, ominous contingent of Ebon Skull followers and their slaves. Arcana sincerely hoped they hadn’t come to cause trouble with Arlin; there were few other people in the tavern. Fortunately, the crowd of skullies didn’t come their way, so she turned back to her drink, doing her best to ignore their distasteful presence.

After a few minutes, Merlina, who was facing toward the crowd, nudged Arcana’s toe under the table. “Bar fight brewing over there, milady,” she said in a low voice. Arcana turned in her seat in time to see a stranger amidst the skullies force a rough kiss on an unwilling Tatiana as well as leering over Ivae. Ivae’s husband Nazralte, though completely surrounded, began shouting furiously. Arlin also turned to look, scowling.

“Arlin, do something,” she murmured, knowing full well he was one of the few at the tavern prepared and capable of fighting the skull devotees. The large half-ogre nodded curt agreement and stomped over towards the commotion, his troops wordlessly falling into place behind him in an orderly, disciplined line.

She followed on his heels to help however she could, but was intercepted by a tall, pale man who barred her way, demanding to know her name. He seemed inconveniently intent on speaking with her, and she glared up at him with icy eyes.

“That is hardly a civil greeting,” she snapped.

The man bowed slightly with an apologetic, cordial smile. “It was but a simple question,” he said more mildly. “My name is Darrien Church.”

“Arcana Arryn,” she answered curtly with a slight nod of her head, still wondering what this man wanted with her when she was clearly intent on other affairs, not idle conversation.

“Arcana… such a lovely name,” he said smiling still. Then he turned and shouted to someone in the crowd, “Her name is Arcana!”

The Arcana in question, felt her annoyance grow. Any fool could have told him her name, t’was no great secret. She was in no mood to be charitable after seeing Ivae’s and Tatiana’s treatment, particularly as she noticed the mark of the Ebon Skull on the man’s hand. She was about to sshove past him, when Arlin reappeared and snarled angrily at Darrien. They exchanged a few words, growled curses on Arlin’s part and urbanely pleasant, though likely sarcastic, remarks on Darrien’s. The escalating exchange was cut short as a scuffle in another part of the tavern drew Darrien away.

“Who was that? Why was he so eager to learn my name?” Arcana asked, puzzled.

“He knows yer name?” Arlin asked rhetorically, groaning and apparently looking for a wall to bash his head against. “He’s th’ one I told ya about who was threatin’ me,” he growled. The clear implication that Darrien would try to get to Arlin through Arcana he left unsaid, and she saw the worry on his face that he attempted to conceal.

“He’s got to get his hands on me first,” she said with a wry smile. “And I know to be wary of him now.”

Arlin seemed reassured, reflecting on how elusive the one-time ranger could be when she didn’t care to be found, and that she would never allow herself to be meekly carried off. “That’s true,” he said, taking her hand in his.

At that moment, the pair were interrupted by a steady stream of Arlin’s soldiers, requiring orders, offering drinks, conversation. Arcana returned to sit with her own companions from the Knights. She was rather touched by Arlin’s obvious effort at both patience and politeness; he certainly had changed. Extended talking typically tried the ex-mercenary’s limited patience very sorely, and she strongly suspected he was a very short measure from assigning his entire army to latrine duty and bodily carrying her out of the tavern. She chuckled inwardly at the thought, hoping such drastic measures wouldn’t be necessary to find a little time for just the two of them.

[Arlin]

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When everything had settled down, Arlin and Arcana stood together in a corner of the tavern, watching the other patrons. The half-ogre suggested they take a seat, to which Arcana agreed and complained, half-jokingly, that her feet hurt anyway.

Smirking, Arlin leaned over and whispered into her ear, “When we get home, I could rub yer feet, and a few more things.” Arcana blushed profusely… and then flashed him a wry smile. Just as they prepared to head out, Shaezen, the Yewish Merchant, arrived and greeted Arlin.

Arlin sighed and returned the greeting, and after a few minutes of small talk, Arlin was prepared to leave again. He had no sooner opened his runebook, then Nazralte dashed up. Tatiana was again in trouble, he said, and that he needed help. Groaning inwardly, Arlin stalked off to the basement of the tavern, Arcana in close pursuit.

By the time he left the tavern, Arlin was exuasted. Between carrying Tatiana physically out of the tavern (only to later watch her calmly enter a moongate with on of her harassers… sigh), to lining up and ordering his men into formation as they swiftly replied to his orders, Arlin was drained. He collapsed down against the side the building, sighing heavily. He really needed a vacation. Arcana finished talking with Nazralte and his wife, and she came over and squatted down in front of him.

Arlin smiled weakly, and rubbed his head. “I jus’ need ta go ta bed I think, Arcy.” He had to chuckle at her as she attempted to pull him to his feet. He stood on his own accord, and pulled Arcana off the ground as he did so. She yelped again, and they both shared a good laugh.

With a quick incantation, Arlin finally found himself in front of Riverrun, Arcana’s home on the outskirts of Vesper. The lady knight stood on the steps, tapping her foot impatiently, hands on her hips and a wicked smile on her lips. She took him by the hand, leading him inside.

Finally, Arlin thought, some relaxation. He collapsed backwards on the bed, reveling in the luxurious bedding of a noblewoman. Arcana sat down next to him, and rubbed his chest, knowing it to be one of his weak spots. He grinned and looked up at her, as he kicked his boots off into the corner (she had often scolded him about tracking mud through her tidy house).

Arcana leaned over him and the shared a tender, passionate kiss…that was interrupted by thundering boom of Riverrun’s massive oak doors closing. Arlin dove under the polar bear rug, not that it would have done much to hide him anyway. Arcana too, dove under the rug with him. They looked over at each other, and chuckled at what an amusing sight they must be.

After a few minutes, they both crawled out, and sat together on the rug, gazing into the fireplace. Arcana leaned against his broad frame as Arlin wrapped a strong arm around her slim but firm shoulders. They both sighed in contentment, and Arcana said quietly, “I was really proud of you tonight, standing up for those women like that.”

“Well… if you were in tha’ situation, I’d hope somone’d do th’ same fer you.”

“If I were in that situation, I’d hope I’d be in the process of breaking a few heads when someone did!”

Arlin chuckled to himself. The lady-knight sat up and arched a slim brow, questioning him without word. Arlin shrugged and explained, “Well, it’s jus’…I ain’t figured out how I got ya. If I ‘ad, I woulda wrote a book by now.”

Arcana just smiled coyly, and then glanced down at Arlin’s hips. “Well…” she began, tapping her chin, “You do enjoy a certain… advantage… over most men.” Arlin blinked, before laughing with her. She was the only woman Arlin knew that could be as brazen as he himself was.

As their laughing died down, Arlin’s thoughts somehow transferred into words “Arcana, tha’ is exactly why I…” He trailed off, realizing what he was about to say. He looked away from her, then back. It was true, he loved her. Every perfect part of her, he loved.

Again, she arched a brow, and motioned for him to continue. Sighing, Arlin put it straight out there, “I love ya, Arcy”. He stared into her perfect blue eyes as he spoke, wanting her to know he meant it. She smiled tenderly, and Arlin could almost see her heart melting.

“I love you too, Arlin” she almost whispered, as she leaned in and kissed him avidly. He returned the kiss, smiling against her tender lips as they descended towards the bear rug once again. Arlin’s boots were soon accompanied by the rest of his clothes. Her clothes managed to end up in every other corner of the room, however, not that she really cared at that point.

By the time Arcana was curled up against his broad chest, sound asleep, Arlin was more tired then ever. Arlin wrapped her up in his strong arms as he drifted into peaceful slumber. His last thought before falling into unconsciousness, was at least this time, it was the good kind of tired
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As the fire fades to night, remember always the ember that started it all.