Elara shook herself again, resheathing the dagger and pulling her bag into her lap. It was getting dark, which was fine by her, but it was getting harder and harder to see. With a huff, she held her hand up, drawing on her light and using her own hand like a flashlight as she searched. I have a water bottle in here somewhere, I know it.
Kieran flinched slightly at the sudden light, glancing over at Elara. He closed his eyes for a moment. "How much longer do you think we have until we arrive?" He asked softly, left foot still bouncing a bit.
“Ten clicks? Maybe twenty, if the horses’re tired.” Elara answered without looking up, still riffling around. The light from her hand didn’t illuminate the whole carriage, but the soft silver glow illuminated quite a bit of it. Her freckles glowed too, making the shadows under her eyes deeper, but giving her an almost ethereal appearance.
Kieran nodded, looking out the window again as the last rays of the sun peeked above the horizon. -Dark dark dark dark oh my God how long this time- he took a deep breath and tried to relax. Small spaces and the dark. God.
“Where the fuck is it?” Elara grumbled, squinting slightly. Grumbling to herself, she reached for more light, lighting up the entire carriage by accident as she overcorrected. “Fuck. Damn this thing. Ah ha!” She pulled out the water bottle she had been searching for, holding it up triumphantly.
Kieran squinted slightly against the light, and shifted. "Was it really necessary to blind both yourself and me in your search for a water bottle?" He asked, looking at her. He reached back and redid his bun, yet again.
“Okay, rude.” Elara pointed her glowing hand at him, drawing attention to the lines of light beginning to trail down her arm. They looked almost like fractures, spilling light out into the carriage. “It’s not…the easiest thing t’ control.” And mom disappeared before she could teach me more.
Kieran shrugged slightly. "Less is more." He replied, looking back out the window. It's getting so dark… He shook his thoughts off. I can do this. I'll be okay. I'll be okay. This isn't a punishment. He sighed softly.
Elara blinked, looking at her hand. She tilted her head, thinking. Less is more. That made some sense, in a way he probably hadn’t meant it to. Little bits, instead of pulling as much at once. Gradually increasing the light. “Whatever.” She shrugged, using the still glowing hand to open the water bottle and chug half of it.
Kieran was silent, closing his eyes as he leaned his head against the window. We have to be almost there… right? Right? No…she said earlier it could be anyway from half an hour to an hour, and it's been…i don't even know.
“Matthias!” Elara called, recapping the water bottle. “Can ya see the city from here?”
“As a matter of fact, I can.” Matthias answered, tapping on the carriage door to let her know he was right outside of it. “Five minutes at most.”
Kieran let out a soft sigh of relief. Oh, good. He thought. Not much longer. See? Told you it would be fine. He told himself, biting his lower lip slightly.
“Thanks man!”
“Any time, Magpie. Hey Thari, she’s going to bolt as soon as she can for that tavern. Stick by her.”
“He has a name, Matthias.” Elara rolled her eyes, slouching back in her seat and crossing her glowing arm over the other. “I can handle myself.” She grumbled to herself, leaning against the carriage door once more.
Kieran raised an eyebrow. "You cannot handle yourself." He replied. "So far, you have thrown yourself off buildings, overworked a damaged ankle, and tried to fight a Thari after being warned you could not win." He told her calmly.
“Day in the life.” Elara shot back, making a face at him. “An’ I’m still alive, ain’ I? ‘S gonna take more than a fall, a fucked ankle or some ass with horns t’ make me kick the bucket.”
"My ass does not have horns." Kieran replied, dead pan. "Also, I don't believe fucking an ankle is anatomically possible." With the way he spoke, it was difficult to tell if he was being serious, or joking.
“Gross. To both of those.” Elara said, wrinkling her nose even as she choked on a laugh. “Figure o’ speech, gods.” She shook her head, closing her eyes briefly. “How am I supposed t’ know whether you’ve got horns on your ass or not?”
Kieran hesitated, then shrugged. "I don't know. You said you fought an ass with horns, so…" He shrugged again. They were almost there, he knew. Which was good, he wasn't sure how much longer in a confined space he could handle.
“You’re the ass. As in asshole.” Elara shot back, actually going so far as to stick out her tongue. She wasn’t sure what it was about Kieran, but he somehow managed to make her bounce between vulnerability and child-like need to be right or a pain in the ass.
Kieran shrugged. "And how am I an asshole? An asshole has only a certain few anatomical parts, none of which I am going to describe." He was being facetious. He knew exactly what she meant, but was arguing for the sake of arguing. Also to keep his mind off of the dark.
“Would ya prefer dick? Asswipe? Fuckwad, son of a barreyali, bastard, dickwad…” Elara continued listing creative insults, quickly getting more and more ridiculous. With a glowing arm and a mouth fit for a sailor, plus her small stature, she looked nothing like a princess. The only thing that even showed she was was the diadem on her forehead, glinting in her light.
Kieran raised his eyebrows. "If you are going to call me anything insulting, you may call me a Shiyathra." he said slowly. "As none of the others are true, and if you are going to use an insult rather than my name, I would prefer the insult to be true." he looked out the window again. The princess has the mouth of a sailor. I wasn't expecting that.
“Wa’n’t plannin’ on it.” Elara said with a snort, standing up suddenly in the moving carriage and kicking her leg up, grabbing her toes with one hand to stretch her leg with a surprising display of flexibility. “An’ I don’ call people things I don’ know the meaning of.” She said, glancing over at him for a moment.
He nodded. "If that is a hint to tell you its meaning…I'm not going to." he replied. She may punish me for that. If she does… he sighed softly. I don't know. I can handle it. I know I can. He kept looking out the window, waiting for her response. His horns gleamed in the faint light.
“Ya made me tell ya the meanin’ o’ ktherion.” She pointed out, dropping her leg to stretch the other one. There was the same balance she had while on the roofs, considering the movement of the carriage wasn’t all that slow. “Ya don’ wanna tell me, ‘s whatever.” She shrugged.
"Yes, but there is a difference between a name you are calling me and i do not know its meaning, and a name I am calling myself that you do not know the meaning of." He replied. He wasnt sure if that made sense. He knew what he meant, but he wasn't sure she would understand.
“Sorta, bu’ no’ quite t’ me.” Elara said, shaking her head slightly and rolling her shoulders as she dropped her leg. The sounds of the guards conversing with the guards of the city could be heard, and then they were moving again. They had passed through the city walls. She shifted on her feet, pulling her leg back and touching the back of her head with the toes of her boot, in a move that shouldn’t be natural, but that she somehow made look easy as breathing.
He shrugged. "Alright." He glanced at her, raising his eyebrows slightly at her flexibility. Interesting. Learning more about her every minute, I suppose. He thought, turning back to the window to watch the scenery go by. He sighed softly.
A few minutes later, the carriage pulled to a complete stop, and Elara dropped out of the ridiculously uncomfortable looking stretch she’d been in to grab her bag, the light of her arm fading but her freckles still glowing bright as she hurried out of the carriage before they had completely stopped. “Fuckin’ hazy skies how the fuck’m I s’posed t’ see the stars?” She muttered to herself, stretching her arms up as high as she could as she breathed in the cool night air, her shirt rising slightly with the stretching, something it hadn’t done in the carriage.
Kieran followed her out, taking a deep breath as he exited the cramped space, finally able to stretch to his full height. He glanced at her, figuring that her question was rhetorical and/or mostly to herself, and so there was no need for him to answer it. So he didn't. He let out a breath, and stretched, tugging down his sleeves to keep the scars hidden. He wasn't exactly ashamed of them, he just…didn't see the need to let everyone see them.