Chapter Four: Pleasant Conversation
Krista felt curiosity biting at her mind. She wondered how to ask her questions without sounding completely rude.
"You... probably have a family to take care of. Most people do... Not that I'm pitying you or anything by giving you money... I... I'm sorry. I'm not trying to pry." She sighed.
'Me and this mouth of mine...' she thought in disdain.
"But you
are," he said with a grin, not appearing offended. "Well... if you're curious I will allay your wonders. I'm actually quite boring once you get to know me. My parents raised me in Denerim, though before I came along they never stayed in one place. They're merchants: learned a trade or two and made money from their skills. I learned to craft armor from my father. Though he's old, his hands are far more steady than mine are, more precise too." His eyes were on her face, but it was as though his mind were far away. "They live near the Alienage in Denerim these days. I do the farther traveling to sell goods and they stick to selling from home."
"And where do you live?" she asked, finding herself more curious than before.
"Outdoors. Good old wilds." He smiled sheepishly. "I suppose I always have a home with my parents, but I hardly get back to Denerim. I was actually thinking of heading southwest towards Redcliff. My business has always been welcome there before. I hope that the battle at Ostagar goes well. Otherwise there might not be anyone left to sell to... But, uh... To answer your question seriously... I suppose in my eyes I really don't have a home."
"I'm sorry. It must be tough." She said as she placed a tentative hand on his shoulder.
"It's not as bad as it sounds," he explained. "I mean I end up in wonderful places like this and I make many friends. How else could I experience moments like these? With such...
pleasant women like yourself?"
She found herself chuckling. It seemed she had a soft spot for the fellow. "You experience pleasant moments with women often then?"
"Hardly." He giggled. "Women find me insufferable. I was more or less referring to the one good moment I'm having here."
Her face flushed with color. She could feel it. He was looking at her with a warm smile and kind eyes. It made her lungs burn and talking nearly impossible. Her heart thumped against her chest once more. A powerful urge came over her; never before had she felt such an emotion.
"You? Insufferable? Unthinkable," she forced herself to tease.
"Well, I'm kind of a hopeless romantic. I like to think I'll come out on top someday..." he trailed with a halfhearted smile. His eyebrows slightly knotted and for a moment she thought she saw sadness. He put on his mask of jokes once more and the look of upset disappeared. His tone was mocking. "But that's a bit foolish for this world. You women can be quite cruel."
"Not all of us. I'm
pleasant, remember?" Krista smiled at him somewhat warmly, the first time she had ever done so to a stranger. But he was not a complete stranger in an unusual way of thinking. She had seen him around with Fergus, never knowing his name and glaring at him from afar. She wondered why such a familiar stranger was tugging at her heartstrings and playing her a tune she had never heard. It was beautiful and unexpected. Her heart thumped heavily still.
"That you are." He seemed to remember his statement and grinned with a sparkling gleam in his eyes. He trailed his fingers along her leather-encased shoulder. He let his fingers flow downwards along her arm and back up to the gentle hand still on his shoulder. He took hold of it and softly squeezed it.
She thought that he could surely hear the thumping of her heart now; it was so powerful. Her body began to tremble with anticipation and curiosity. She wondered what the other feelings present in her heart were. When he enveloped her hand with his, she felt words escape her, her cheeks flush and her senses overload. She looked to his eyes with panic and he looked back, clearly just as unsure of the feelings this invoked. She could not even begin to explain it, though she opened her mouth anyway, intending to try. A small, pitiful, breathy utterance escaped her throat but nothing else would come.
His hand traveled underneath hers and their palms now touched. Before she could even think about what she was doing, she gently trailed her fingers across his. He slipped his silently along hers until they were mirroring hands, finger to finger, palm to palm. His hands were larger, his digits longer and held more warmth and life than her cold clammy ones. She breathed heavily and gazed into his eyes. He never took his own from her face. His compassionate stare allayed her fears and quelled the anxiety. Slowly his fingers dropped in between hers and squeezed softly again as her fingers found their places in between his. She gave a light squeeze back as a strange happiness traveled throughout her body. She felt a tingling sensation growing over every inch of her, beginning at their connected hands. Strangely, she felt numb at the same time.
She could not think of anything to say to explain her actions, why she had not stopped him from gripping her hand so. She was frozen and did not know whether or not that was such a bad thing. Her mind searched for an answer as she shut her eyes. The warmth coming from her hand made her heart flutter and jump within her chest. She knew she was breathing but she could barely feel it. The bed shifted beside her. A second warmth grazed her cheek and she opened her eyes to see his other hand raised to her face, his knuckles softly caressing her skin. She could see her other boot discarded on the bed space to his right. He was closer, right beside her now. The touch to her face seemed cool on her skin. Her cheeks were warmer than his hands by far. She turned her head into his hand, letting it sweep lightly across her chin. She told herself to stop, but found it too comforting to do so. Cautiously, she lifted her hand and placed it over his, pulling it away from her face and down into his lap. She placed her hand back in her own, but never let go of his hand with her other, though she was trying to will it to return.
"Is... something wrong?" he asked in a disappointed voice.
"I'm sorry. But..." she sighed. She was ready for things to start making sense again. "I'm a woman and you're a man."
"Ah, just too
different, are we?" he teased with a laugh.
"I beat men up for fun...
Usually. Then I met you and... you gave me armor and then you and I talked... Somehow we... are here..."
The words would not come and her head could not make sense of it.
"Aaand...?" he prodded.
"What makes you so special?" she asked with a blush staining her cheeks, knitted brows and a reeling mind. "Dammit! I should be wiping the floor with you right now! Not..." She sighed as her grip loosened. "Garnet... What have you done?"
He grinned shyly as he released her hand. They both awkwardly sat with their hands in their laps. She tried to push back the urge to grab his hand and once more feel the tingling of her body.
"I'm not sure... But I would like to do this again sometime," he said in an embarrassed tone. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "You know, the talking and the holding hands part anyway... I'm sorry if I have been too forward. I guess I'm just not very good at this. Never have been. Just, um, try to forget it, if that's easier."
She slipped her hand into his, reliving the fluttering about her heart. She let him see her smile and she felt her cheekbones rise, knowing her dimples were showing. She did not expose her pearly white teeth, though she thought about really showing him a true smile. She was not ready. He had captivated her heart but her mind was uneasy. She had turned down so many men in the past. This one should not have been different, but he was. She did not know why, but she let him woo her. He was not interested in the game most of the others played. Perhaps that was why.
"I don't think I want to forget, exactly. Maybe we can... talk more later, if that's what this is," she said carefully, but sweetly. "You are the first man who has ever touched my hand or my face... with my approval, that is... And somehow you remain unharmed. It's so very unlike me, you see."
His eyebrows raised. "A toughie, are you?"
"Usually. Whenever a man tries to win me over, it's not like this," she tried to explain. "There are dresses and makeup and... idle conversation."
"Well, do the men look pretty at least?" he questioned.
Krista cocked her head to the side. It took her a moment to realize it was a joke. She was in a serious mode and the joke threw her off. She found a half-smile forming at her lips when she realized the humor in it. "Not at all."
"Well, it certainly was not my intent to romance the young lady Cousland when I came to this castle, but now it's looking like a promising idea... That is... if you would allow me to court you. I'm nothing close to a noble like you. I'm just a traveling merchant at best."
"And the flirting without knowing who I was? You know, when you called me a gem. That wasn't your idea of romancing?"
"Hey, I was trying to be charming to a beautiful lady. I learned it from your brother," he said accusingly with a laugh. "Besides, I didn't know who you were."
"No wonder you've been such a failure with Ferelden women. If you've been listening to Fergus, you probably would only have luck with the Antivan women. They're into that...
charming talk."
"Nope... They hate me too. Said I'm too..." He trailed, searching for the right word.
"Corny?" she suggested with an evil grin.
"Soft," he finished with a grin, shaking his head. "You really are
mean, you know."
"You don't get bonus points for teasing me about my standoffish ways," she stated with raised brows.
"You say that, but I think you really mean the opposite," he prodded with a cunning grin. "As long as I say it with a nice, captivating smile."
She did not want him to know that she thought he could be right. She kept her mouth shut and glared at him.
"You know, looking at me like that won't change anything." He squeezed her hand. "I'd still like to get to know you... to court you... But I doubt it will be so easy."
"I don't take those sort of threats lightly," she warned, feeling like she was floating. "And of course I'm not going to be easy- it's not going to be easy." She sighed at herself and rolled her eyes at the mistake. He giggled.
"I have a reputation to uphold. Krista Cousland is tough and unforgiving with men, in case you haven't heard. As far as anyone knows, I always am... Anyone asks, I was
terrible to you. I pushed your face in the mud, made you cry... You know, something convincing like that." She squeezed his now sweaty hand. "And then you gave me armor."
He chuckled. "I thought as much. But you really don't mind then? That I'm a nobody?"
"Should I? Suitors with nobility claims haven't won me yet," she reasoned.
"Ah, but they
could... and you deserve that. Aside from that..." he let go of her hand and picked up the shoe beside him nervously. "Your mother would kill me. She's been trying to set you up with nobility for a reason, to make your life better."
He fiddled with the boot uncomfortably and she found herself both aggravated and amused.
"Yet you're not worried about Fergus... or my
father. I find it strange you're so fearful of my mother," she teased, grabbing the boot from his sweaty hands. She proceeded to lift her unclothed leg to the bed, bending her knee close to her chest. She proceeded to slide her foot inside of the shoe.
"Hey,
she is a-" he stopped when she gave him a hard look. "Wonderful woman.
Pleasant. Like you."
"Then I see why you're so afraid," she said, strapping the cloth around her leg. She caught him gaping at the bare skin exposed around her knee and thigh, as it was very close to him as well. She clicked her tongue in annoyance. "I can see you staring. I have knocked men unconscious for less."
"I... sorry," he apologized, standing. He seemed eager to get off the subject. "Listen, about that armor... you know your old stuff."
She looked at the discarded pile of hide and metal plate beside her swords as she fumbled with the last strap around her calve.
"Yes, I'm not quite sure what to do with that," she admitted. She stood, rolling her ankle a bit, tipping her toe to the floor and taking a few steps.
"Do they fit all right?" he queried, raised a brow.
"You were right; they're a little big. But they're much better than what I had. Thank you," she said, remembering courtesy. She swooped up her two weapons with the straps from each holster dangling loosely in her grip. She suddenly felt self-conscious and did not wish to cleave her already protruding chest in two noticeable pieces. She arched her back and slumped her chest inwards slightly in an attempt to hide.
"I'll take your old armor, if you have no more need for it. I could work with the material, make something new," he said. "I can pay you for it. I have this pouch full of silvers-"
"It's rather disgusting," she mentioned. He didn't make any facial reaction. He crossed his arms, as if to say he did not care. Her mother had told her he would be familiar with disgusting things. He worked with men all the time. She supposed he was used to things worse than sweat.
"I assure you the silvers are in pristine condition. They've only been in my coin pouch for a few minutes," he smartly retorted. She rolled her eyes.
"Oh were you talking about the armor? I can use it for something. I'm sure," he said as he looked it over.
She picked up the pants, vest and gloves, folding them into a neat pile for him. She handed them over. She was going to gather her shoes and plate accessories when he motioned for her to stop.
"I'll can get them after," he explained, placing the pile of folded cloth and hide on his bed.
"You're not paying me for them," she stated defiantly as he reached for the pouch around his waist. He was clearly not comfortable with the idea of receiving a free set of armor, even used. He glanced at the weapons in her hands.
"Then let me give you something," he reasoned eagerly.
"You're already taking the armor I had no idea what to do with, you gave me brand new armor at a discount, and now you want to give me something else?" She felt like she was robbing him. He seemed to have a habit of giving things away for free. She found herself wondering how much he could possibly sell if he treated all of his customers like this. She debated asking him instead of mindlessly spitting it out, a strange occurrence for the young Cousland; she was no diplomat and had no idea if it would be rude or not.
"Do you make all your sales this way? By giving things away for free, I mean..." she blurted.
"Only to the pretty ones," he admitted with a chuckle. "Which would be nearly never."
Garnet removed his cloak and placed it upon the trunk. He began to unhook a thick sash from his chest. Krista began to blush, wondering what he was doing and why his flattery got beneath her skin. Before her mind could wander far into the worst scenario, he held out a thick strap with two empty sword holsters around the back. It looked so much like the Grey Warden's weapon harness.
"This looks like it could be useful for you."
She stared at him, wondering why he would be carrying such a thing around with him unless he used dual blades. However, it was empty, dashing her hopes as quickly as they had come. Perhaps he was carrying it around for show, though no one could possibly see it beneath his cloak; it was silly yet possible. She placed her two blades on the bed softly and reached out for the strap. She took it up, swooping it around her shoulder and letting it cut across her chest loosely.
"You'll have to adjust it to your height of course..." He towered over her by at least five inches. She was no small woman at approximately 5'7, but she felt a bit intimidated by the height he had over her. She grabbed her swords and carefully holstered them.
"Making fun of my height now?" she asked, straightening her posture and narrowing her eyes at him. "I'm not short."
"I know. You just look pretty when you're not slouching... even
with the squinty eyes," he joked.
"I..." Her face flushed as she looked away from his eyes. "I have to go. There's... a lot to do today."
"I understand," he responded quickly. "I'll just, um..." He made his way to the door.
"Wait. I... Can we... erm...
talk later?" She found herself struggling to ask as her eyes met his.
He smiled. "I'd... like that..."
"And..." she trailed.
"Aaaand?" he prodded again with a knowing smirk
She pouted her bottom lip and pushed her eyebrows up in embarrassment. Her chest swelled as she took in a breath of air and held it. She felt his hand on her shoulder as the air escaped her lungs in surprise.
"Whoa, whoa,
breathe... Never thought I'd see the day where a Cousland admits fear."
"I'm not afraid!" she voiced in defense. "I-! You-!... Maker's breath... I cannot believe I asked you this."
"Heh. That's more like it." He laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "We'll do the... hands thing too, that is, if it's all right with you..."
She cleared her throat, attempting to regain her lost dignity. "Then it is settled. I shall... see you after dinner. It's been a pleasure to meet you, Ser Garnet. Thank you for everything. Now, if you'll excuse me..."
He walked to the door and opened it for her, the sounds of the men echoing into the room.
"M'lady..." he said politely, bowing slightly.
Krista walked through the door hastily, breathing better as she did so. The men who had been standing beside the door were gone. She made her way back to the crowded room full of men, the holsters of her swords smacking against her bottom with every step. Adjustments certainly needed to be made, but it already felt easier to walk with. She reached the end of the hall and stole a risky glance at Garnet's room. The door had shut at some point along her short journey. She sighed, wondering what he could be doing in there. The soft glow of the fireplace danced warmly on her newly exposed legs. Her eyes searched for the popular seamstress and found her resting upon the wall adjacent to her, arms crossed. Krista was surprised to see her alone as she made her way towards the woman.
"Clara?"
"Oh, m-m'lady!" she gasped in surprise. She spoke with a slight accent, but it was nothing compared to actual Orlesians. "What is it you are doing here in this filthy place?"
Clara always encouraged her to be the upstanding noble Lady her mother had wished of her, even if Clara herself seemed a hypocrite.
"Mother asked that you take my measurements. I have grown since last I wore a dress... and she wants me to get all dressed up today... We're not sure what I can wear... I mean, it is quite the occasion... and I may be a bit too... big for anything I currently own... Well, besides this armor I just received. My mother would then like to speak with you once my numbers are taken."
"Of course... Only
you m'lady..." Clara shook her head in exasperation. "Always last minute with these sorts of things. I suppose that is why the teryna keeps me here... Well then, come along... We need to get your measurements and find you something pretty. Ugh and then you need to bathe. I can smell you from here... get that
disgusting leather stink off... For Maker's sake, you smell like a man!"
Clara took Krista by the wrist, nearly dragging her down the hallway, a few guards watching the commotion they caused. As they passed Garnet's door, Krista slowed to glance at it. She realized quickly it was once again open and he was standing inside, head tilted in curiosity and face scrunched in confusion. She regretted her decision as Clara tugged at her arm harder, causing her to jerk forward in a large motion. Krista saw Garnet snicker behind his hand before he was out of her line of vision. Clara was leading her to the family quarters, for they would have the most privacy there. The young Cousland was as eager as ever to get this part of her morning over with.
