In Which Landus Just Is

March 7, 1180

"Mind if I join you?"

Tivie sat herself down without giving Landus a chance to protest. Not that he cared to, mind--he liked her well enough, even if it was odd that Neilor had dropped everything to escort this girl he barely knew all the way to Carvallon, and odder still that he'd insisted on Landus coming along--but if she didn't need his permission, he wasn't sure why she'd asked. He gave a belated half-nod as a formality, but it didn't seem to phase her. Not much did, from what he'd seen.

"So... you don't talk much, do you?"

Landus shrugged. "I never know if anyone's listening."

"I'm listening."

And that was nice of her. But if he was honest with himself, he didn't have much to say, or nothing he could say without embarrassing one or both of them. He didn't want to ask--though he thought he knew--what she and Neilor did when they snuck out of the various inn rooms, when they thought he was asleep. He didn't want to ask why she looked so much like that man from the tournament, or why she looked so much like him, for that matter. He supposed he had the pieces and he thought he'd put them together, but he didn't want to be sure if it meant offending the only person who could confirm it.

No, that wasn't quite true. He could have lived with offending her, nice as she was. But there was a certain refuge to be found in not knowing. "You can talk too. You seem to have more to talk about."

Tivie smirked. At least, Landus suspected that she smirked. He'd been looking at the fire, but she seemed like the sort of girl who smirked--in a teasing way, but a far cry from mocking. "Or maybe I just don't know when to shut up."

He let out a small laugh, which seemed to ease them both, even if it failed to inspire any words in him. That was all right. She'd cover the words. "I'm sorry that you got dragged along. You must be missing your friends."

"They'll still be there when I get back."

"I suppose. You might still miss out on something fun, though." Tivie picked a splinter of wood from the floor and tossed it into the fire. It hadn't been much of anything and had little effect on the flames as a result. Landus wasn't sure why he'd expected more. "What about girls? Neilor said Lord Severin's granddaughter is sweet on you."

"Lyssa?" Oh, God. Neilor would mention that. "She's six."

"Fair enough. Still... she'll be sixteen one day, won't she?"

Landus shrugged again. He supposed Lyssa would grow up to be pretty enough, but if anything the thought was terrifying. Beautiful women were frightening enough when he hadn't known them since childhood. Well... Tivie wasn't frightening. Then again, Tivie wasn't beautiful. Not in that way, at least. "I guess..."

"We could turn back if you wanted to, you know." A warm hand patted his shoulder and her balance suffered for it. She wasn't graceful, but that was all right. Landus wasn't so graceful either. "We're not that far from Naroni. If you'd like--"

"No. I'm fine." Or was he? Even a state as minimally positive as 'fine' might have required an opinion. Landus didn't have an opinion, not really. He just was. "I'll keep going with you. You don't have to turn around to take me back."

She fell silent for a minute and he feared he'd said something wrong--some misplaced tone or inappropriate pseudo-synonym. But if he had, he was not destined to know it. "If you're sure."

NEXT CHAPTER: