#e'manafa

A pot of soup simmered over the fire. Kikina, the lalafell, was playing a slow melody on a wooden flute. She’d had plenty of time to practice, and had become quite good at it. Across from Kikina, still clad in his armor, sat the roegadyn with his hands folded. His head was tilted downwards, and his eyes were half-closed, but they knew he was listening to Kikina’s song. He was always appreciative of her playing.

The roegadyn’s name was Dolorous Bear. E’manafa guessed he had been named such for the slight, downward turn at the outer corners of his eyes. It afforded him a somewhat sad look, even when he was happy.

He was known to be ambitious. It was his dream that their heroic deeds be remembered through the ages. It was a lofty goal, but one Dolorous made seem obtainable, through rigorous self-dedication and hard work. It was he who had suggested the three of them join forces originally, and he was usually the most proactive in finding new assignments.

E’manafa had, in more than one instance, wondered if his ambition was a trait that came with being so large in size. Perhaps that would make someone braver. But it wasn’t his long-term goals she had taken special notice of, but something more subtle, something only she appeared to see. That was his kindness.

E’manafa hadn’t known many other roegadyn, but Dolorous seemed to her to be a generous man, sparing no expense to make certain she and Kikina were wanting for nothing on the road. He was brave, both in placing himself between the two of them and the dangers they encountered, as well as fully entrusting his life to them.

Perhaps it was inevitable spending so much time together, but the three of them had become like a found family. And that was part of why it was so hard for E’manafa to speak of her feelings. She knew they had a good thing, a precious thing, in the bond of their friendship. The thought of doing or saying something that could change that, gave her great hesitation.

But adventuring was a high-risk occupation. And there was never a guarantee the three of them would always be able to see one another’s faces.

If E’manafa was going to tell Dolorous her feelings, she felt it needed to be soon. She had never been a superstitious person, but she had a lingering premonition that it was something that needed to be done. Or she might regret it.

Kikina finished playing her song. Dolorous had fallen still a statue while she had been playing the flute. Now his eyelids fluttered, and the muscles under his chainmail tensed and relaxed as he stirred.

Kikina raised a brow at him. “It appears, Dolorous, that you found my performance dreadfully unexciting,” she said dryly. “You seemed ready to go into hibernation.”

The roegadyn shook his head, a sardonic smile uplifting the corners of his mouth. “If I was quiet, it was only because I had no wish to disturb our master flutist.”

Kikina nodded. “Indeed. If you had fallen asleep, this flute would have made an entirely different sound against your head.”

E’manafa hid her smirk at their banter. She judged this to be an opportune time to try to get Dolorous alone. It wasn’t unusual for one of them to need to discuss something privately with one of the others. “Dolorous, if I might have a word with you?”

The roegadyn looked over at E’manafa, then got to his feet. “We won’t be long,” he apologized to Kikina, who merely waved him off.

E’manafa led Dolorous Bear a short distance from their campfire to a shady spot under the boughs of a huge, ancient conifer. There, she turned and looked up at his face.

The roegadyn was blinking down at her curiously, a furrow of faint worry between his brows. “Something on your mind, Emmy?”

E’manafa hesitated. She could sense the impending change that was imminent between them, for good or for ill. But there was no turning from this point. She took a deep breath, and replied, “Dolorous Bear… How long have we journeyed together?”

He tilted his head, then smiled. “It will have been four years, I reckon, come summer. I can still vividly remember the day we set out... Perhaps, you are not satisfied with what we have achieved in that time?”

E’manafa was unsurprised that Dolorous’s first attempt to guess her thoughts involved concern over a perceived lack of progress, since that was usually foremost on his own mind. She shook her head. “Quite the opposite. I think we’ve come a long way since we began… and not merely in the sense of us as adventurers.”

The roegadyn nodded, slowly. “Then… in the sense of us as individuals? And friends?”

E’manafa nodded. “That’s what I was thinking. The three of us have grown and changed so much. And we were always present in one another’s lives, through thick and thin. We are more than an adventuring party now. We’ve become like a family.”

She paused, worrying her lip between her teeth. Dolorous looked concerned. “Emmy… This is nothing that I did not already know. I may not speak of the way I feel often... but you and Kikina are the most important people in the world to me. When we achieve our dream - and I’m certain we shall - there’s no one else I would rather have at my side, than you, and her.”

E’manafa nodded. “Then you would understand why I would be hesitant to tell you the way I really feel.”

For a moment, Dolorous looked pained. “You do not feel the same? Do you mean to tell me you wish to leave?”

E’manafa quickly shook her head. She reached out and took his massive, gauntleted hand in both of her own. “No, I share your dream, as strongly as ever. But what you may not know…” She swallowed, releasing his hand, “...Is that I also dream of a future, in which we are together.”

She watched as understanding slowly dawned across his face. The revelation that she had feelings for him had not, apparently, ever occurred to him. The roegadyn was utterly blindsided, blushing and struggling to form a response. Finally, he looked away, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

“E’manafa…” Dolorous Bear began, “I am… humbled beyond words, that you would want this with me. It is very unexpected. I will not tell you that I entertained similar ideas for the future…” He turned back to the miqo’te, who was listening to him with preternatural focus, “...but, that may have been short-sightedness, on my part. I only ever thought of our shared goal. To become lauded adventurers, the kind of which stories are told.”

He sat down on a stump. “I don’t wish to cause Kikina to feel she is no longer one of us, if we were to do this. However… If the three of us can continue to be a team… and we can continue to work towards our goal… then I…” The roegadyn swallowed, “I wish to accept, if you’ll have me.”

He paused to look at her. E’manafa was covering her mouth with a hand. She moved it to wipe tears from her eyes, but she was smiling. “Dolorous…”

Dolorous smiled in return. No longer quite so worried, he was starting to look excited. “Emmy, you and I can make our own dreams for the future. Dreams I’d never before even considered… They could be ours.”

E’manafa stepped forward, towards the stump Dolorous was sitting on. He looked surprised, but managed to remain still, as she slid her hands around the sides of his broad face.

“Are you all right?” Dolorous whispered, noting the shed tears on the miqo’te’s face.

E’manafa nodded. “Yes, Dolorous. I’m so touched, and so glad… I carried these feelings inside me for so long.”

She leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

It had never before occurred to Dolorous Bear, that he might one day find something he would deem even more precious than the lifelong goal he’d always held in his heart. But he knew, as he felt E’manafa’s lips against his, that he had unexpectedly discovered such a thing. He moved to reciprocate, his kisses forming delicately around her own, tender and reassuring.