• Closed • Why so blue, Arlo Creede?

[Vega]

120th Vhalar, 717
- following this

He'd gone to town about noon the trial before, to pop to the market in order to get them some food for that evening. Vega had gone to see her father, having promised him that she'd do so. Besides, shopping for food was men's work she'd added, she'd stay here and keep them safe and he could trot to the market. If she'd thought she'd have got away with it, she'd have given him a silver coin and told him to buy himself something pretty. But she knew Arlo Creede far too well to think that he'd do anything other than just take the coin and do just that. Probably also something noisy and irritating, so she didn't do it.

Once she'd got back to camp, bruised and sore, she'd been surprised to see that Arlo still wasn't there. But, she figured he'd got caught up in town and so she got on with making some arrows. She was starting to get the hang of the fletching, it was the use of the correct tools which was most important and Vega had been surprisingly focused. Until she got hungry and lifted her head, wondering where he was. It had been a long time, she realised, as she looked at the sun. For a moment, she'd thought about going into town to try and find him, but that was stupid. So, by the time he'd got back into camp that morning, she was more or less convinced that he'd gone off on that mission for U'frek he'd told her about. And, of course, she was hungry.

It was first light and the night before had been long and cold and full of this weird fog that had hung around. Vega had done her best to cook herself something and so, in the dawn light she was kneeling in front of the bowl they kept in the camp and she was scrubbing a pot. One glance at the pot would tell him all he'd need to know about how she'd eaten the night before. Having soaked it overnight, the burnt food was still caked on there. She'd be better off with a chisel, she was considering and wondering if he'd forgive her for chiselling his cooking equipment when she heard movement and turned to look.

"Bloody 'ell, where 'ave you been?" Vega asked, a deep frown settling on her face and a look of irritation accompanying it. Her eyes, though, were violet and gold - neither of which were signs of irritation. "I figured you'd gone on that trek for U'frek. So, I decided to sort myself out, which means I burnt dinner, an' just went to bed." If she'd slept at all, she didn't look like she had. "The fog was swirlin' round an' I could hear all these weird sounds. Wigged me right out." And she'd missed him, but she didn't say that. He'd get ideas above his station and that would never do.

So, Vega concentrated on not fussing too much, or enough, or at all. As part of that, she just got on with the dishes and didn't really pay attention once he'd gotten back. The relief which had flooded through her when she saw him abated and she felt like she was more than back to normal enough. So, she looked over at him again. "I was worried about you," she spoke quietly but with genuine feeling. "I was worried about me, too, I can't cook for.... Arlo," having finally lifted her head and looked at him properly, a genuine frown creased Vega's forehead and she stood up, moving over to him.

Her hands reached out, hesitantly, and then stopped before she touched him. "Alright, well that's just stupid. If yer gonna be doin' that we're gonna 'ave to discuss some boundaries." She looked worried, because she was. Then, she gave voice to her worry and asked him, quite clearly. "Why are you glowin' an' why so blue, Arlo Creede?"

[Arlo Creede]

Arlo was no stranger to extraordinary events that grabbed him up and gave him a shake now and then. In fact, there seemed to be something about him that attracted the unusual, dangerous or even absurd. But the events of the night before, and his response to them had taken the concept of absurd and driven it to heights. As he walked back to camp after having been strangely dropped back to the place he'd started the trial before, he tried to figure out just how he'd gotten there, and why it was that he'd responded in a number of uncharacteristic views. It was distracting enough that he didn't even notice that he was still glowing a distinct shade of blue from head to toe, until he began to wonder why a number of passersby were staring strangely at him. And then of course he noticed it when the thought struck him, and he pulled off his leather glove to have a look. "Oh," he muttered, and noticed that not only was his skin glowing blue, but the smallest nail on his left hand was darker than all the rest.

So how would he explain all that when he got back home to the camp he and Vega shared? He couldn't quite figure it out himself after all. And by the looks of things, he'd been gone all through the night. As he saw it, she'd either be riled at him. Or worried. Both maybe. Or one followed up by the other. There was no telling, Arlo was sure. It was true that they hadn't laid down any new rules between them since the trial on Immortals Tongue. But staying out all night without a word and coming home looking like he'd been rolling round naked in that blue glowing moss they'd found in the jungle, probably wasn't the best start. Especially when he'd be hard pressed to come up with a good explanation. At least one that made much sense to him or Vega either.

He arrived back to camp to find her trying to conceal what evidence remained of a pot left close to ruin. That was what he noticed. That, along with the tired, worried expression on her face. She didn't really look at him either as he dropped his sack on the ground and sat himself down near the fire. "I'm sorry Vega. I'd only gone to the market. It was the fog and..." Arlo paused there, frowning, trying to work out exactly how to tell her what happened. And then she looked at him and must have seen what all those passersby had noticed too.

And maybe it was better she didn't touch him. At least not till he was sure that it wasn't catching, and wouldn't rub off. For that matter, Arlo wondered if it would wear off in time, or if from that point forward, he'd have to be the walking nightlight he'd teased her so often about being. "I'm sorry. I know it worried you. It was the fog. It rolled in out of nowhere and I tried to get around it. But when I couldn't, it swallowed me right up," he explained. And then? He'd found himself somewhere else completely. A graveyard, at night, in the fog. Maybe on Faldrus but he couldn't be sure.

"There were others there. Some of them I knew but some I didn't. But then there was a ghost ship and pirates and undead chickens...And a treasure that the pirates wanted. Or our souls." He was the one that said it, but it was a wonder now how ridiculous it all sounded. "I'm hoping this will wear off," he told her, pulling off his glove again to look. But there were other things he'd come back with, Arlo added and dug into his sack to look. If he'd imagined it all of course and those things weren't there, well, there might be hell to pay. They were there though and he pulled the things out, setting them aside for her to see.

A pair of scissors, that ought to cut things that ordinary scissors wouldn't. A gold earring to make him a friend of some random pirate. A treasure map and a book of riddles. Another small map that would apparently change as they went along, wherever they were in the world. "That ought to be useful yeah?" There was a small statue of a flunny that when he picked it up, seemed to track him with its eyes and unnerved him. So he sat it down on the ground, facing away from him. A pirate coin, a sack of more coins.

But at the last he pulled out what looked for all the world like a chicken leg, foot and all. Wooden though. "A peg leg I think," he said and handed it to her. "My undead chicken companion had a peg leg." The longer he held it though, he came to realize that his hand was warm, but it wasn't just that. He was warmer from head to toe, as if he was bundled up against the cold much better than usual. He grinned a little. "Strange thing," he said, and handed it over to Vega to have a look.

It was only when he handed her the wooden leg that he looked at her. Or rather, really looked at her. And as soon as he did, Arlo's expression took a turn and was as stormy as she'd have ever seen it most likely. All the rest was forgotten as a result. "What's happened?" He didn't need to say what he meant. If she looked in a mirror she might not disagree with him. She looked likes she'd been run over by a stampeding herd of runaway cattle.

Bruises and scrapes like that could only come from one thing, short of hurtling down a craggy mountainside, completely on your face. A wave of protectiveness like Arlo had never quite felt before washed over him, and he was wound tight as a spring when he asked, "Who did that to you?"

Because as soon as she told him he was going to charge off and find the bastard and beat him to a bloody pulp.

[Vega]

120th Vhalar, 717
- following this

She waved a hand in apparent dismissal of his apology. Especially when he paused, as though trying to work out what to say. Now that she could see him and knew that he was alright, thoughts about where he had, actually, been started to filter through her mind. None of the options she came up with were good. "It's not my business where you spend yer nights, Arlo, it's fine." They'd made no rules about anything, after all. If he wanted to spend his nights Immortals know where and Immortals know who with she thought, wildly, then that was up to him. Nothing to do with her and she didn't care, not one bit. Nope.

Vega was just in the middle of building up a good head of steam, just about to launch into a speech telling him how much she didn't care, how very bothered she wasn't and how they'd made no commitments, he was quite free to spend his nights with who he wanted. But then, just as she was breathing in for the very clear statement of her life, she looked at him and all of that flew from her as worry for him took over. His explanation didn't help. The fog swallowed him up? She said nothing to that, although she didn't even realise she'd asked "Others? What others?" Female others? Single, female others? Vega glowered at him as he then went way, way too far. Undead chickens. Undead chickens. "Are you 'avin' a giraffe? Undead chickens? Did you meet someone an' smoke somethin'?" If he was going to make up stories for why he'd spent the night out, that was just ridiculous. Yet, she believed him because she'd known him long enough to know when he was serious and when he was teasing her.

She shook her head when he apologised again, "It's fine. I was jus' worried is all. You couldn't 'elp it." The items were strange things, each one of them and she looked at them individually. But they were all things that he could have bought in the town she knew. Or, she assumed. He could have, and that would explain why he wasn't touching her. She didn't like this, this side of her that was uncertain, paranoid. Needy, she thought to herself and determined that she was going to stop that, right quick. "Yeah, for sure. It's a map of round 'ere now, but when we're somewhere else, it'll be a map of there? Nice." Riddles? Vega gave that a disdainful look, they really weren't her thing at all. Much more his than hers.

The undead chicken peg leg was nearly too much for her, but she took hold of it and, as she did she saw a change on his face. He looked angry and, of all things, she glanced back to see if he'd noticed the pot she'd nearly destroyed. But then, of course, she realised and Vega's hand lifted to her face, where she felt the bruising and swelling. "The bruisin's come out?" As a rule, Vega didn't do mirrors and she shook her head. "It's fine. I got into a fight. I got off a sight better than 'im, you don't need to worry." The look on his face was not one that she wanted to provoke, he looked absolutely furious and so she added, softly, "I'm fine. Don't fuss. I can look after myself, Arlo."

She looked down at the chicken leg and Vega felt a little foolish when she admitted, "You know, I know it sounds daft, Arlo, but I feel warm. Like I'm wrapped up in bed and we're just all snuggled in, you know?" That kind of warm, nice and snug and cozy. He wasn't dropping it though, and she sighed. She didn't want to tell him, he'd go charging off on some foolish notion of defending her. But he wasn't going to back down, she knew him too well, so she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, holding on to him. "I got into a scrap with my cousin, is all. We 'ad a disagreement. I broke 'is nose an' my Pappa took 'im off to the Order of the Adunih. I think I might 'ave gotten a rib or two, an' all. An' I don't care about that, I was jus' worried about you."

[Arlo Creede]

"What do you mean, it's not your business?" Arlo had shot back with a quick frown when Vega said it wasn't any of hers. She didn't need to say it anyway, he figured he knew what she meant. "If we're together like we are then it's your business the same as it is mine, where you've been." If she was suddenly gone overnight, he'd meant. They'd agreed no rules, but Arlo figured that some things at least were implied. And if she thought it wasn't her business where he'd spent the night, then if ever the situation was reversed, he couldn't rightfully claim it was his.

Nevertheless if she was skeptical about his story it wouldn't have surprised him. If the roles were switched, he'd have to wonder if Vega had lost her mind. Well, except that he was blue, and not yet convinced that he'd ever fade to normal again. "Pash was there. Kali'rial. Some others I don't know, and Qit'ria...that woman who dropped in and ate a while back," he reminded her. "If you think this is bad," Arlo added, referencing his newly colored flesh, "I got off easy compared to her. She got mouthy and attacked one of the pirates, and she came away with sores on her that are oozing. Forever, maybe." Probably better, implication was, not to have a big meal then take a good long look.

But once he noticed the bruises on her face, Arlo wasn't interested in any of that. It wouldn't surprise him that the other fellow had fared worse than her. But not even that was enough to distract him. Arlo's expression only got darker. "It's not fine," he insisted. "And sure you can look out for yourself but it's not a reason...and stop trying to change the subject," he said when she noticed the warming effects of the chicken leg he'd put in her hands. The fact that it was her cousin who'd done it, didn't make it any better. And it didn't matter who might have thrown the first punch.

What did matter was that in trying to convince him that it was nothing to worry about, she'd told him where her cousin had been. Or even was, maybe. "Good. Then I know exactly where to find him," he said, and apparently he was prepared to head out right then and hunt her good for nothing cousin down.

[Vega]

It was her business where he was? If they were together like they were then it was her business, he said. Vega felt a rush of relief at that, a feeling that she didn't want to have, because it made her vulnerable. Vulnerable to him. It was a strange thing to feel - strange and inexplicable because she and Arlo were friends and that, Vega understood. But this? Intensity of emotions, jealousy and a deep well of need; need of him, for him? Those things were new and so, cursing herself for the coward she was, she said nothing in response.

Then, trill later, she was glad that she had kept quiet. Qit'ria?? Vega's eyes darkened, her shoulders tensed and she let out a snort. Vega knew who she was, he didn't need to remind her. She'd wanted to leave the two of them on their own when Qit'ria had come to their camp, but he hadn't wanted her to. But Qit'ria had got mouthy? He liked mouthy women, Vega reasoned or at least, so she believed. A deep frown settled on her face and she kept her head turned away from him. Not because she was concerned about the bruises, she hadn't really thought about them; no, she didn't want him to see the emotions in her eyes.

Yet, once he'd seen those bruises, Arlo wasn't concerned with any of that or any of them and Vega stepped forwards, wrapping her arms around him and trying to keep him here, distracted. When she did that, concern for him over riding her entirely justifiable anger at him, what did he do? He got more broody and told her to stop changing the subject. "Fine!" Vega looked at him with fury and a whole host of other, much more complex, emotions on her face and shoved him, away from her, as she stepped away in the opposite direction.

"If you wanna go so much, go. I can look after myself, an' you're not arguin' that but you're still gonna go find him? Is it 'im yer chasin' after, Arlo? 'Cos you know, it seems like you're awful keen to leave again. Jus' go if that's what you wanna do, but I've been so worried about you I couldn't sleep an' all you care about is goin again? Damn you, Arlo," None of that was the reason why she was angry, of course, but Vega absolutely believed it was in that moment. "if it's jus' sex to you, fine, but I needed to know that." Oh, there was that head of steam, it appeared it had just been somewhat distracted. "Cos it's a damn sight more than that to me. I damn well fell in love with you, an' I told you that." Or, at the very least, she believed she had. "So you go an' worry about Qit'ria's oozin' sores. You won't even touch me, an' you don't respond when I put my arms aroun' you! Well up yours!" Her hand was shaking as she lifted it to wipe away the tears which fell, anger at those adding fuel to her wrath. Not that it needed it.

"Is now a bad time?" Jo'qan, Vega's father, asked. His voice was calm and placid. He knew his daughter well and his tone was even, soothing - but not surprised. Vega turned on him and looked not at all shocked to see him there, having walked quietly up to their camp and heard the whole thing. "No, it's just perfect. Arlo wants to meet your nephew an' pound 'im. Maybe you boys can find a tree an' 'ave a pissin' contest." With that she stalked out of the camp. It had to be said, Vega had the flounce down to a fine art.

Jo'qan looked at her as she went and he allowed himself a smile. "Well. She's passionate about you. I thought we could have a talk, Arlo. About my daughter." If he was surprised or even concerned by Vega's actions, he didn't seem it.

[Arlo Creede]

What just happened Arlo wondered? In an instant, Vega's perfectly agreeable disposition turned to something else completely in the blink of an eye. Like a sudden shift in the wind and a squall roaring in from the west, he never saw it coming but could only hold tight and resolve to wait it out. He'd just told her about his misadventure in the fog, then after finding the bruises, swore to defend her honor. And then? Rather than a storm, which Arlo might have been able to predict, she went off like a tea kettle in the fire, whistling away under a good head of steam. And him without a hook to remove it with.

"Hey!" he shot back with a deep frown, but she rolled right over him and he couldn't get a word in edgewise. Just for sex? "Now wait just a bit. That's not...," he tried and got up from his seat...better to defend himself if she started raining blows on him. Something she said gave him pause. Had she said that she loved him before now? As a friend, sure she had. But after? Probably better he didn't question that right now. And besides she'd rolled on before he could stop her. And Qit'ria? Why would he want to do that?

Finally there was a pause long enough that Arlo thought he might get his chance...barring the use of signing in a pinch. But as luck would have it, another voice from behind startled him and before he even looked, it filled him with a sense of dread. Not Vega though. The sight of her father, and his terrible, terrible timing, just served to get her going again. "Look, none of it is like that..." But she was already stalking away, and damn him if even then, Arlo could appreciate the view and everything else that was wrapped up inside the package.

But she was fighting dirty. Having a go at him...for no reason at all, he was sure, then walking away before he could respond. If they didn't live in a camp in the open, the two of them, if there'd been any doors available she'd probably have slammed one behind her. For a few brief trills though Arlo forgot her father was still standing there. "I worried it might be contagious!" he shouted after her, referencing his hesitance to touch her when he'd come back to camp. "Don't be blaming me if you turn blue!" Arrrgh! was the closest thing he could think of to express what he was feeling, as he gave the discarded cooking pot a good kick. It was heavy cast iron, and caused a wince, a yelp before he shouted, "And I love you too dammit!"

She was probably long gone by now and hadn't heard him. And just then Arlo remembered her father standing there. Passionate about him? Arlo snorted and lifted his shoulders in a helpless shrug. "If you mean passionate about hating my guts, you might be right," he said. "And the funny thing is I don't have any idea what happened to cause it." He wanted, right then, to shout after her that she was the one that said there weren't any rules, but then when he apparently broke the ones that she hadn't told him about, she was mad at him. He'd forgotten that Lyova was there, but she must have been watching and listening, and she whispered into his mind, "That wouldn't be very smart Arlo." He'd give his little companion that. Especially with Vega's father standing right there.

So Joq'an wanted to talk. He had perfectly terrible timing. "I probably ought to go after her. But I think whatever she's done to her cousin, she'd do twice or thrice to me right now." The trial couldn't get much worse, he figured. "As good a time as any. You want some tea, sir?" he asked, gesturing to a seat by the fire as he found the kettle and pushed it into the coals. The man was probably there to warn him away from his daughter, Arlo reasoned. If he was like any other father of any other daughter, probably had decided he wasn't good enough. For all Arlo knew, Vega had just come to the same conclusion.

[Vega]

He didn't argue, didn't disagree. Which evidently meant it was true, of course. If it wasn't, Vega knew, he'd be arguing with her and putting her to rights, quick smart. But nope he had nothing to say. That was fine, it was her own stupid fault. She'd known, he'd been in the throes of grief and she shouldn't have taken his word for it that he'd had these feelings before. Maybe he'd even believed that, she considered, at the time that he said it. Probably didn't even know his mind, so what should she expect? It appeared that what she should expect was for him to stay out all night, come home talking about other women (and their 'ooozing sores' or whatever he actually meant... where were those sores anyhow?!) and then just not even touch her or respond to her touch. No, it was a message, it was clear and she had to accept it.

Which was fine.

Vega was going to be telling herself that for a good long while, she knew, that it was fine. Because it wasn't and in that moment she hated every man who ever walked. Every damn one of them. Including her father and he was not in any way immune from her wrath. He, at least, was much more used to it and had she known Arlo's thoughts, she'd have told him plainly. If there were any doors, she'd be slamming his stupid male head into them. Or, in fairness, slamming them in a fit of pique. But she glared at her father as she stormed off, since he was equally guilty of the crime of being a man. He smiled at her and that just annoyed her more.

She heard what Arlo yelled about him being worried about being contagious, but that was nonsense. Just nonsense and she knew it. After all, she'd already touched him, so what difference did it make? No, that was an excuse because he couldn't explain to her how he didn't want her near him any more but he probably felt bad because he'd made out that it was more than it was, for him. Hurrying her feet, Vega broke into a run as felt tears really start to pour. Heading towards the small glade off and away, where he had gone not that long ago to read a letter from home, she heard that he shouted something else, but not what it was. It didn't matter. He'd made it clear, and that was fine.

It was fine.

Jo'qan, meanwhile, simply watched the display of the young pair with a slightly raised eyebrow and nothing more. When Arlo said that Vega was passionate about hating his guts, though, he chuckled and shook his head. "Eva does not hate you. She just told you that, did she not?" He'd heard her words, after all. So had most of the animals in a good radius and the area around their camp was eerily quiet. "Tea would be nice, yes. Thank you." There was just a slight tinge of amusement in Jo'qan's expression. It might be Arlo's imagination.

He sat, on the log offered to him and looked around. His eyes shifted colour as they moved over the single tent, a change from last time he was here, but he said nothing. "Thank you," was his only response when Arlo gave him tea. He sat, quiet for a moment and then spoke. "I came to check that Eva was alright. I don't think I've ever seen her as angry as she was yestertrial. That," he motioned to where she had flounced off, "is normal. Yestertrial was not." He looked down at his cup and frowned slightly. "Eva is very aware of her difference. Her cousins have pointed it out to her at every available opportunity. I have seen her stand nose to nose and scream at them. I have heard some very inventive and flowery threats. On occasion, I have tended to a cut or bruise from a scuffle. Yestertrial, she was trying to kill." Jo'qan seemed to be entirely serious, there was no humour in his gaze.

"She and I had decided that I am not going to leave, we will wait out the winter here. Eva wanted.. wants," he emphasised the second word there, having sailed across the storms of Vega's temper all her life, "you and I to get to know each other. I have never seen her so happy." He sipped the tea and then, looked at Arlo with a steely gaze, his eyes turning a pale silver as he spoke. "And then her cousin accused of being a human's whore. She was on him in a trill and as bad as she looks, he looks worse. He is worse." Which was just fine with Jo'qan. "So, no, I do not think that she will be doing the same to you, should you go after her." Jo'qan, having heard the argument between them, was very aware of exactly what the problem was as far as Vega was concerned, but it wasn't his way to put his oar in if it was not needed. "I wanted to speak to you and tell you that Eva would like it if I like you. So I will do my best. You make her happy, and passionate," he gave a slight smile then, blue tinging his eyes. "And that is a good start. I will deal with my nephew, he will apologise to her." There was no question and no, Jo'qan didn't care who'd struck the first blow either. "What are you going to do?" He asked it like he was interested in something utterly mundane.

[Arlo Creede]

In spite of what Joq'an said about Vega loving him, from Arlo's perspective, technically speaking she'd told him that she had fallen in love with him. Not that she still was. And since her mood had just shifted like a swinging boom in response to a storm on the sea up from nowhere and for no good reason, who knew if it was still the case. He didn't say it to her father though. Not while the man was apparently trying to help. But the way the Biqaj kept on grinning, he had to wonder what was so Immortal's damned funny about it.

But what he'd just witnessed was normal? Vega had a temper and she could be prickly. But he didn't remember ever seeing her like that before. At least, not when it was aimed at him. And for no good reason to boot. That he and her father ought to get to know each other, like each other if they could was all good and well. But the notion of never having seen her that happy? He couldn't help it. He snorted helplessly after a swallow of his tea. "If that was her being happy, I wouldn't want to be anywhere near when she isn't."

Being told what her cousin had said to her though, didn't dissuade him from wanting to find him and cave in his face with a fist. In fact he wanted to all the more. What was he going to do though? That was a very good question. Arlo thought about that long and hard, frowning into the fire he'd been working on getting going again while they'd talked. He looked up, glanced in the direction that Vega had gone, shook his head and shrugged. He still couldn't fathomed what he'd done to get her so wound up. He shrugged then. "I guess I'll go after her. It probably makes me a glutton for punishment."

Her father could wait there if he wanted, in case Vega came back with him. Arlo suggested as much, though the man could do as he pleased. Either way, Arlo headed off towards the glade with Lyova tagging along, drifting just off his right shoulder. He figured he knew where to find her, and he'd been right. But once he did, Arlo didn't get too close. Chances were, she didn't want him there. He could see she'd been crying though, and while it struck him to the heart, he was more confused than ever. "If you hadn't run off like that, you'd have heard me say that I love you. Maybe it's bad timing and I should have said it a lot sooner," he admitted. "But it's still as true as ever. I do."

"Those things you said back there though. They're not true and I don't know where you're gettin' ideas like that. It's not about sex. Never has been. And if you think that, I wonder if you think very much of me. And I don't know why you'd ever think I was interested in Qit'ria. You asked me who was there. I told you. Or would you rather I'd lied about or said I wouldn't tell you?" he asked.

He knew she'd been worried when he didn't return from the market, he told her. But it wasn't because he didn't want to, or that he hadn't tried. Mostly, Arlo reminded her...How many times had she jumped in front of him since they'd met, trying to protect or defend him against something or someone else? "I know you can take care of yourself. But why is it so surprising that I want to do the same, when the tables are turned?"

Arlo paused there, frowned and dropped down on his heels. "You told me you didn't want there to be any rules, but it feels like I broke a number of the ones you haven't told me about. And I still don't know what they are. This is all new to me too you know." Apart from that? "Just about anything that's broken can be fixed Vega. But we can't fix it if I don't know where any of the pieces are."

[Vega]

Jo'qan gave a slight snort of amusement. "She has her mother's temper, it is true." Eva, he explained, was very much her mother's daughter. "My wife was a violent, foul-tempered cantankerous beast," he said. "She was magnificent." Taking a sip from his tea he put the cup down to the side of him. He would call by later, he said. Maybe the two of them would like to go out to dinner with him. He seemed quite sure that all would be well between them.

Vega, meanwhile, was sitting and flinging stones into the stream when she heard him approach. He didn't come anywhere near and, by this point, she'd calmed down enough that she couldn't blame him. She listened, focusing on his words and the tone of voice behind them. She'd hurt and confused him, she knew. "It wasn't fair of me to say it was jus' about sex. I'm sorry." She turned to look at him, though, when he said he thought she must not think very much of him. Nothing was further from the truth but he thought it and she couldn't even argue with him. From his point of view, it made sense, no matter that it was unutterably wrong.

Vega flung a pebble into the stream with every bit of frustration she felt. "I don't know the rules until you break them." She looked at him and it was evident she wasn't joking. Anger, confusion, upset. All of these were written on her face, in the patterns of her eyes. "Reese, he told me that I should find a biqaj boy who's prepared to look past wot I am, doesn't mind my mongrel blood." She picked up a stone and flung it into the stream with more than a little force. "An' then, he called me a whore," her voice shook with anger. "I wanted to kill him, Arlo. An' when I got back to the camp, I wanted to talk but you weren't 'ere so I burnt the food an' then couldn't sleep." She'd been worried about him, wound up by the fight and its implications for her, for them. "An' then you come back in talkin' about undead chickens, an' all I wanted was.." No, she wasn't going there. Vega shook her head and closed her eyes.

"I thought it was the U'frek thing, an' that's different." It wasn't that she wanted him to lie, she explained. The issue wasn't that, not at all. "If I'd been gone all night, came back with a wild tale - I believe you, I do, but it's still a bit mad, Arlo. If I'd done that an' told you I'd been with Friel, 'im of the soulful eyes, and then carried on to tell you a little story about what had 'appened to him on our adventure together, 'ow much would you 'ave wanted to hear it?" She didn't think he had any interest in Qit'ria, she said. Or at least, now she didn't. Vega had no issues with admitting that when she lost her temper, she became a crazy person. "An' you make me mad in ways I didn't know I could feel, jus' for the record."

It was impossible to stay sitting down any more, so Vega stood and paced around a little. "I was worried sick about you and I was upset at what happened with Reese. But I was upset by what he said," she wasn't bothered about fighting with him; that had been a long time coming. Vega would never be eloquent, never be good at explanations or, it appeared, concise. "I get that you were jumpin' in front of me, Arlo, but what needs protectin' right now is looked after by puttin' your arms around me an' remindin' me that what he said isn't true, cos I jus' spent a night worryin' that he's right about me cos he's known me all my life an' look at what happened to my parents." There was no point to this, she knew, she wasn't making any sense and it wasn't logical. "I jus' needed some help with the battle goin' on in my head, not the one I already won. He only gets to me when he says that stuff cos I'm worried that I'm puttin' my Papa in the situation where he's gonna end up 'avin' to make the same choice he did before." Her eyes reverted to furious, though, when she added, fiercely, "Cos I love you. They can jog on an' if I get disowned, that's fine." Very much her mother's daughter, "Even when I'm crap at showin' it. I've never been as angry as you make me." Which probably wasn't a good thing as far as he was concerned, but she knew what it meant.

[Arlo Creede]

Even after she'd failed to hurl the small stone at him rather than into the water, Vega still seemed on edge and from Arlo's perspective, not quite predictable. "It's alright. I know you didn't mean it," he said when she apologized, though looking back, he wasn't sure he had known for sure. In spite of it all he couldn't help but grin though when she described the nature of the rules between them...She'd know them when he broke them? Rocking back off his heels and sitting closer to her, he shot back. "It's not the most practical way to go about it. Nor the safest for me."

It was all new to him too though, he reminded her. It all came back of course to him wanting to hunt her cousin down and punch him. Nothing he'd been told had changed that, but made him more sure instead. Except that he wouldn't because Vega didn't want him to, and it would probably just make things worse with her family. 'I would have been here if I could. But he's wrong Vega. They're all wrong. You've got the best of both sides. Mother, father." As for the whore comment? "Your cousin's an ass. I knew it when I met him, there's all the more reason to know it now. He doesn't like me because I'm human, that's all. I can't change that. But he can stop being an ass and won't." She wasn't a whore. "You don't need me to tell you that. You already know it's not true."

He grinned again though and moved closer when she told him how angry he made her. And like all the times before, he leaned over and bumped her shoulder gently. "I only told you about Qit'ria because I thought you might like knowing that she'll probably have those things forever." The oozing sores, he meant. "I know how much you don't like her. I thought it would please you to know." Probably not the smartest move in retrospect, but he'd underestimated both Vega's temper, and miscalculated, maybe, the reason that Vega didn't like the starving waif who'd wandered into their camp before.

He stayed seated while she paced. But when she told him what she needed, Arlo frowned, got up and slipped his arms around her. "You know it isn't true Vega. I can tell you that a hundred times a trial but until you realize it yourself, I'd need to say it a hundred times more. The problem was never with your parents, him and her. It was the others, like your cousin." What Arlo didn't want was to be the cause of a rift between her and her family. But her unhappiness with that situation hadn't started with him anyway. But if he knew her father even just a little bit, then Arlo could tell her how the man would choose. Still. "If he was ever to have to, it wouldn't be because you drove him to it. He'd choose you. But it would be their doing and not yours."

"I love you," he said. "Now that you mention it though, how come you've never been so mad at me before? We've been traveling together as good as an arc now?" Surely in all that time, he'd done or said something to invite a similar reaction? But this, Arlo figures, was a first.