He thought he caught Rory’s eyes on him more than once as they sat across from each other at the table in an oddly normal tableaux. A flicker of blue from beneath blond lashes, a stolen glance as he spooned up more stew… But every time their eyes might have met from behind their fragile defenses it was Jigano who looked away before the connection could quite complete. He didn’t know what to say, or how to reassure his friend, or how to ask if Rory minded that the lorekeeper couldn’t keep his eyes off the hunter.
He was supposed to be a master of words, a crafter of poetry, glib and entertaining even under pressure or dangerous situations and yet, when he was alone with Rory, he struggled to find even the simplest of sentences. Maybe it was because they hadn’t used – or needed – much in the way of words for so long, or maybe it was because with Rory his heart was so much more open, and so much more vulnerable, than it had ever been before, and it got in the way of what he wanted to say, trying to distract him with things he didn't know how to say, not yet. Whatever the reason, silence seemed strangely comforting between them at times, and he was in no hurry to rush this one to its end.
Color was coming back to his friend’s pale cheeks, and the trembling had finally faded from his fingers by the time the hunter spoke, and Jigano didn’t need to answer immediately as he tilted his head, one brow arching as eloquently as a fox’s cocked ear at the statement. Rory caught himself before the bard had to, and Isuma purred and nibbled at the finger that stroked her, long tail curled around Rory’s neck like a fluffy white scarf. ”Do you ever get lonely out here, with only the animals for company?” Jigano asked quietly, toying with the last few spoonfuls of stew in his own bowl. ”It can’t be easy, taking care of them all, all by yourself. Sometimes you just… need a rest.” Someday, he promised himself, he would have time and chance to rest… someday, when things were quiet, and he had found someplace safe to lay his head for more than a night or two… someplace that wasn’t a hole in the ground, or an office where his guildmates could find him with their own problems and questions. Someday… maybe not so far away… a thought he was almost afraid to complete, while he carefully studied the chunks of vegetables in his stew and didn’t quite dare to look up to meet Rory’s gaze.
He was supposed to be a master of words, a crafter of poetry, glib and entertaining even under pressure or dangerous situations and yet, when he was alone with Rory, he struggled to find even the simplest of sentences. Maybe it was because they hadn’t used – or needed – much in the way of words for so long, or maybe it was because with Rory his heart was so much more open, and so much more vulnerable, than it had ever been before, and it got in the way of what he wanted to say, trying to distract him with things he didn't know how to say, not yet. Whatever the reason, silence seemed strangely comforting between them at times, and he was in no hurry to rush this one to its end.
Color was coming back to his friend’s pale cheeks, and the trembling had finally faded from his fingers by the time the hunter spoke, and Jigano didn’t need to answer immediately as he tilted his head, one brow arching as eloquently as a fox’s cocked ear at the statement. Rory caught himself before the bard had to, and Isuma purred and nibbled at the finger that stroked her, long tail curled around Rory’s neck like a fluffy white scarf. ”Do you ever get lonely out here, with only the animals for company?” Jigano asked quietly, toying with the last few spoonfuls of stew in his own bowl. ”It can’t be easy, taking care of them all, all by yourself. Sometimes you just… need a rest.” Someday, he promised himself, he would have time and chance to rest… someday, when things were quiet, and he had found someplace safe to lay his head for more than a night or two… someplace that wasn’t a hole in the ground, or an office where his guildmates could find him with their own problems and questions. Someday… maybe not so far away… a thought he was almost afraid to complete, while he carefully studied the chunks of vegetables in his stew and didn’t quite dare to look up to meet Rory’s gaze.
