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Fantasy Draconic Disagreements

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Fable Fable

Though he didn’t look up, Thane tensed reflexively when Dahlia approached him and leaned over to see where he was at in the book. It wasn’t so much because he didn’t want her to know—she had lent him the book after all, it wasn’t as though its contents were a mystery to her—but more because… well, he wasn’t sure. She was an added complication to his life and yet not an unwelcome one, which was confusing in and of itself. Add his own frustration over how exactly to court her, Roarke’s disbelief and implication that Thane wasn’t capable of it, and you had a perfect storm. What kind of storm, Thane didn’t know. All he did know was that he was feeling vexed and grouchy.

He had expected Dahlia to retreat after peering at the book, but instead she lifted her hand and covered the page so that he could no longer read it. The Warlord went very still, staring at the small hand obscuring the words as though if he looked hard enough, he could see through it to the story beneath. Part of him could hardly believe that she would be audacious enough to stop him from what he had been doing. Prior to this, most of her actions had been done with an obvious undertone of fear over how he would react, and that had been a great deal less bold than actively stopping him from something.

Ever so slowly, Thane shifted his hazel gaze from where it rested on the obscured page to look up into her eyes directly. There was obvious nervousness there, though she stood her ground regardless. For his part, Thane was teetering on the edge between rage and exasperated amusement. But as she spoke the balance tipped towards amusement and by the end of it, after she said she wouldn’t eat without him and tried coaxing him further by suggesting they talk about the book, Thane sighed loudly and closed his eyes.

“Do you know, you sound exactly like a proper mate? Between the scolding and the cajoling, a casual onlooker would have no idea you find me insufferable,” he said dryly, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes for moment before lowering them with a soft huff. “Very well, I’ll eat,” he muttered, pushing himself distractedly to his feet and realizing only belatedly that this had placed him almost chest to chest with Dahlia. Thane cleared his throat, catching her gently by the shoulders so that he wouldn’t unbalance her and sliding past her, “Apologies,” he muttered as he went, settling down in his usual seat by the table and not looking at her.

For a few moments he was silent, awkwardly picking up the utensils and poking at the meal while he waited for her to sit. It seemed prudent to say something though,so after a long pause, Thane settled on the book. “I can see why you recommended the book to me, and I do see myself in the Beast,” he shot her a quick glance before refocusing on his plate, “Though, of course, in my case the rose would be heirs I suppose, and the time frame is a great deal longer.” He lapsed into silence, wondering about the years before Belle entered the castle. Had the Beast sat alone and watched as petal after petal fell? Had he felt the ticking away of time like a physical blow? Knowing he was helpless to change it and believing that no woman would ever cross the threshold of the castle—let alone one who could love him? A slight shudder rippled up Thane’s spine and he pushed that lonely thought away.
 

Dahlia stood there nervously as Thane's gaze shifted from the words on the pages in the book up to look her directly with his hazel eyes. Even though she had done her best putting on a brave front, she found it hard to maintain when he was looking at her like he would bite her hand. In the end though whatever anger had been held in his eyes diminished and he let out a sigh which let Dahlia release the tension in her shoulders that she hadn't noticed.

When he asked her if she knew she sounded like a proper mate her brows furrowed in slight confusion. "Y-You're not insufferable," she corrected him as he pushed himself to his feet and invaded her personal space suddenly and she was forced to look up at him due to their height difference. He cleared his throat and held her shoulders as he moved to slide past, reminding her that his hands were also much larger than her own, not to mention much warmer.

She had to take a moment to collect herself, taking in a cautious breath to calm her nerves. She had a weakness in regards to proximity with Thane which meant she needed to be sure that she reminded herself that she was simply flustered and nothing more, to not be swayed by just getting flirtatious attention. Her grandmother's voice trailed through her mind and Dahlia sighed at the whole 'to be loved you must love' quote. Dahlia found that unfair. Why should only one person expose a vulnerable heart to risk being hurt? Of course her grandmother had comments on that too, quite a few actually.

Dahlia joined Thane at the table and began to eat even though Thane himself had yet to start. He was right that he would finish his food before her even with a head start so she didn't concern herself with waiting for him. "I wondered how you apply the themes of the book to yourself. How deep you'd go to compare and analyze it. You are right in that some ways you and the beast are the same, table manners being a very strong resemblance."

She was trying to lighten the mood by making a joke, hoping one at his expense wouldn't upset him. "I would't say the rose would be heirs though. I think it's more related to your past, but that's just my opinion. I don't know much about you, obviously. But there is a weight there when you talk about things in the past, your shoulders show that weight actually."

His silence was odd and he seemed bothered by something. Dahlia tilted her head to one side as she focused on his face as though she could figure out the answer if she looked long enough. Thane was like the Beast though; isolated and surrounded by servants and people with expectations. Those expectations being he secure the family bloodline, that he be ruthless and cold. Incapable of feeling something like love.

Looking at him right now, he looked so lonely. He had admitted himself that he was alone. She was probably going to regret this, but she got up from her chair and went over to Thane to give him a soft hug.
 
Fable Fable

It registered dimly that Dahlia had protested his declaration that she found him insufferable, but it didn’t make Thane feel all that much better. Perhaps it was true, and she wasn’t just saying it out of politeness, but that didn’t change the fact that he was out of his depth and knew it. Things would look better in the morning, they almost always did, but for the time being Thane found himself believing that Roarke had been right. He didn’t know what he was doing, and the strategy he had cooked up did not seem apt to work. Wouldn’t that be a great irony—his first strategic defeat coming at the hands of his own mate.

Dahlia settled across from him and began to eat, one dainty forkful at a time. The contrast between the two of them in that regard was almost enough to coax a smile from the Warlord… but not quite. He glanced at the meal himself, reluctantly tugging the plate towards him and digging his fork somewhat idly into the large breaded porkchop that dominated his plate (notably, Greta had given Dahlia a smaller portion of meat and larger portion of vegetables). Absently he lifted the fork up, about to gnaw on the speared meat directly, when Dahlia mentioned that he shared his table manners with the Beast. Thane scowled for a moment but then snorted—he couldn’t deny it—and took a large bite of the meat anyways. It was bad manners and he knew it, but this time he didn’t care, catching Dahlia’s eyes as he chewed and shrugging a shoulder slightly. “Well… I won’t deny that, though I think he has a better excuse for his poor manners than I do,” being that he was a literal beast as opposed to Thane merely having a bad habit developed when a childhood story scared him.

The Warlord grew a great deal quieter with Dahlia’s assessment of the rose, swallowing the food in his mouth and staring down at his plate for a long moment. A pained sigh slipped out before he could stop it and Thane shook his head slowly, “Those left behind have to bear the burden of those that came before, especially when there’s a legacy involved… it doesn’t surprise me that you can see it,” a slightly bitter smile curled his lips upwards. “It should have been shared between all of us—my parents, my brothers and I. But no, Jorgen…” Thane shook his head, unable to even choke out the words. It always came back to Jorgen and his foolishness, he couldn’t even think of his older brother without a bolt of pain. Which was why he chose to stuff the memories down and not think of them, life was easier when he didn’t need to think about what had happened.

Feeling his appetite vanishing, Thane pushed his plate away from him, eyes flicking shut as he struggled to reorganize the chaos of unwelcome feelings that were beginning to surface in him. The day had started well, but it was ending on a painfully trying note, and he didn’t think he’d be getting a lick of sleep that night. He was just about to open his eyes and dryly suggest she try making a barrelful of the tea for him, when a sudden warmth wrapped around his shoulders.

Startled, Thane’s eyes shot open and he tensed, only to find that it was Dahlia embracing him. Her gentle warmth sank through his clothes and mingled with his own heat, loose coils of her hair brushing against his skin. Since he was seated the hug came from the side, her arms encircling one around his broad back and one across his chest. Without thought, Thane’s right hand lifted to close gently around the arm extended over his chest, tightening around it—not hard enough to hurt, just enough to keep her there for the moment.

A shudder rippled through him alongside an inexplicable desire to weep—but he shoved that particular inclination down. Under no circumstances would he allow himself to cry in front of her. But that resolution did not prevent the soul-deep shuddering he breath he took, nor the way he found his head leaning into the hollow at the base of her neck, taking the comfort where she offered it. The memory of the last time he had been hugged rose painfully in his mind, a memory of his mother curling her arms around him and pressing a light kiss to the top of his head, murmuring some clever quip that he could no longer remember—no matter how hard he tried.

Thane’s eyes fell shut and for a brief moment he allowed himself to sink into Dahlia’s touch, to need it and need every comfort that came with it. Letting the gesture, and the kindness it showed, flow through every pore. But he could feel it beginning to unman him and he wasn’t willing to fall apart in front of her, so, through sheer grudging willpower, the Warlord gently pushed her away, catching her hand as he did and impulsively pressing a gentle kiss to it. “Thank you, Dahlia, but I’m alright,” he managed to choke out, very clearly not alright.
 

As much as actually hugging Thane was scary she had gone and done it anyway. She couldn't possibly ever truly understand his situation because of the very different lives they had before they ever met, but that didn't mean that she couldn't try and be sympathetic towards someone who has endured so much. Hugs were a calming force, though Dahlia wasn't sure it would help Thane because how could someone take comfort from a stranger. While they were strangers to each other she couldn't just sit there and just watch him struggle alone.

She didn't recoil as his hand wrapped around her arm in response, firmness in the grip which might mean he wanted her to stay. Dahlia said nothing out of concern by doing Thane would reject her attempts at offering some sort of comfort, even if it was just a hug. She just let him be, from the shuddering breath of someone's whose emotions wanted to be allowed out to leaning his head into her. Even as he carefully pushed her away she didn't say a word, only blushing slightly when he kissed her hand, even lying that he was alright as he thanked her.

Dahlia wouldn't push. Maybe one day he'd talk to her about things that kept him awake or caused his nightmares, until then she'd do other things.

When she returned to her seat she went back to eating her dinner, not commenting on whether or not Thane should eat. It would be strange for him to not eat, but pointing out something obviously had no purpose. She finished her own meal, glad that Greta hadn't given her the same large portions that Thane ate. Honestly, it was like he had two stomachs instead of one. The thought made her smile a bit to herself.

"By the way, what does Laleia like as a treat? Since you'll be busy soon it means I get to bribe your loyal steed in your absence," she joked, trying to change the subject to something lighthearted. She had always appreciated when Gideon had done so for her when she didn't want to talk on a certain subject. He'd always have some sort of joke, funny face, something to lighten a somber mood. It also wasn't exactly a lie, she was going to try and bribe Laleia with treats just so she could tease Thane about it.

"Next I'll somehow get Roarke on my side, have him leave you silly things you have to wear whenever you get out of the bath," she finished this with a fake evil laugh before it changed to a true laugh at her own oddness. She was terrible at this tactic, how did Gideon always know how to cheer someone up?
 
Fable Fable

Dahlia returned to her seat and Thane felt the loss of her presence with surprising keenness. But it was for the best. Unburdening himself on her was not something he had a right to do at this point. They were still strangers; she didn’t need to know the horror that surrounded the butchering of his family and his own near death. As far as Thane could tell, she’d been kept quite sheltered from the violence of the world—and he intended to keep it that way. One of them suffering nightmares was bad enough.

He glanced at his own untouched plate for a moment as Dahlia continued to pick through her own meal. If he didn’t eat now, he would regret it later, but his nerves were somewhat shot and he needed something to steady himself first. With a sigh, the Warlord pushed himself up and walked over to a large ficus tree dominating a corner of the room, reaching up through the leaves to a crook in the trunk. From there he pulled down a bottle of wine, still corked. Without pausing, Thane turned back to the table, popping the cork out with his thumb and taking a long swig even as he settled back into the seat.

Thane placed the bottle in the middle of the table and cleared his throat, gesturing to it a little dismissively, “Help yourself, if you like wine. This is a…” he floundered for a moment, sadness tugging at his expression, “This is a bottle my father gave me,” the Warlord supposed that this was a bit of a pathetic occasion to finally open the wine for, but what did it matter? He needed it, and the taste of the wine made him think of his father—a male who always knew what to do. Perhaps in drinking from the bottle he had gifted to his son, Thane would find some of the same self assurance in it. If nothing else it made them feel closer to his father again, and that was worth a great deal.

That done, he lapsed into silence and made quick work of his food. For once he didn’t take any real pleasure in the meal, shoveling it in dutifully so as to not worry Dahlia or upset Greta.

His plate had been sitting empty for a bit while the dragon alternated between pulls on the bottle and moody silences, when Dahlia finally finished her own food and broke the silence with a question about what treats Laleia liked. “Carrots, mostly. Though she’s fond of apples too,” Thane answered by rote, his voice somewhat monotone. He recognized the joke but couldn’t quite find it in himself to be diverted enough by it to laugh or be pulled out of his melancholy.

That changed when she mentioned Roarke. The servant was still a sore spot for him, and Thane’s eyes flashed with disproportionate anger at her comment. But the thought of Roarke leaving something silly for the Warlord to wear instead of his regular clothes following a bath made the male pause, the anger disappearing as he imagined his idiot servant setting out some lacy monstrosity for the Warlord to squeeze into. “That would end poorly for you,” Thane said, a bit more life creeping into his voice, “I’d simply walk around in a towel—or in nothing at all, just to ensure the pair of you didn’t try something like that again,” he actually managed a soft snort-laugh, lips curling upwards ever so slightly at the corners as he pictured it.

“I’d sooner you didn’t mention Roarke though, I’m not happy with him at present,” Thane added as an afterthought, the broody look beginning to creep back into his expression. “He’s quite certain that I’m incapable of courting you. I believe his exact words were that he ‘has grave concerns about the likelihood of an heir ever being produced.’” The Warlord scowled and then froze, realizing he had shared more than he had intended to. He quickly waved a hand in her direction and shook his head, “But never mind that, it isn’t your problem.”
 

Dahlia didn't touch the wine that Thane wanted to drown himself in. It was slightly uncomfortable for her to watch him drink since it made her recall some unpleasant memories, but she wasn't going to talk about such things. She was trying to improve the mood not sour her own.

Her joke about turning Laleia against him hadn't worked, but she had at least gained some information so it wasn't exactly a loss. His reaction to hearing Roarke's name made her uneasy. Dahlia hadn't missed the shift in his demeanor when his name passed her lips. She swallowed nervously, unsure why someone who had seemed on good terms with Thane could cause him to be riled so. Thane's anger seemed to subside somewhat as he said that her joke of making him weird something silly would end poorly for her, that he'd walk our in a towel or nothing at all. This comment caused her to flush as her mind decided to remind her of Thane walking around in a towel.

When Thane told her why he was upset with Roarke she struggled to keep her laughter in check, but as usually she couldn't and ended up just trying to muffle the sound with a hand until she calmed down. "S-Sorry. I know you don't find what he said funny. Where is the confident and intimidating Warlord with the ego large enough to crush anyone in his path? I'm not trying to mock you, but for someone who seemingly doesn't care to be bothered by such a simple statement."

She gave him a soft smile, "Courting doesn't exactly go one way, you surely should realize this after reading romance novels. The man has to also like the woman, doesn't he? Well, no perhaps not as it depends on the story. What I am trying to point out is that you could say we're more mutually courting so to speak. If I had absolutely no interest in being your mate do you think I wouldn't do things to sabotage your efforts?"

Shit, she had said more than she had wanted to and her cheeks burned in embarrassment at her slip. "I-I'm not saying that I currently have any romantic interest in you right now," she quickly tried to cover up her mistake. "More that I don't hate you or dislike you. J-Just that I am trying to be fair and equally put forth effort to sway you?" Oh god what the hell was she doing. She took the wine bottle and took a look deep swallow of the drink because she needed to find something to excuse her from having to talk.
 
Fable Fable

The Warlord had expected a variety of reactions from Dahlia following his admission about what Roarke had said. But he had not expected laughter. She tried to muffle it, but she might as well have been guffawing at the top of her lungs for all the difference it made. “I don’t see what you find so funny about it,” he growled, feeling put out.

Dahlia’s question about where his ego had gone only made Thane’s scowl deepen, “This is why I didn’t plan on saying anything,” he groused, regretting his slip of the tongue and turning his glare onto the wine. It felt fair to blame the loosening of his tongue on the alcohol—this particular bottle must have been stronger than what he normally imbibed. There was nothing for it now, he couldn’t exactly take the words back. Thane thought to try interjecting some comment about the book into the conversation to distract her, when Dahlia shot him a soft smile and said that as far as she was concerned, they were mutually courting. At that particular revelation, the Warlord went stock still and simply stared at her. The more Dahlia said, the more she tried to correct herself, the deeper into the hole she dug herself.

In spite of himself, Thane couldn’t quite repress the boyish grin that suddenly lit his face. He hadn’t expected Dahlia to ever say such a thing. It had never crossed his mind that she might also want to present herself in a way that made him grow in affection towards her. He had assumed that she would simply expect him to care for her because he needed her and leave it at that. That all the onus was on Thane to try and figure out a way to give her what she wanted. Discovering that she was interested in him, even if only out of a feeling of obligation or fairness, was the boost that Thane needed to slip out of the dejection Roarke had made him feel.

She was blushing again and snatched up the wine bottle, throwing it back for a long drink. This was an understandable reaction, Dahlia had very obviously said more than she had wanted to. It put them rather comfortably in the same boat. “Odd, it never even crossed my mind that courting required both parties to participate… I suppose that should have occurred to me,” he said, his tone a great deal warmer.

For a moment, Thane contemplated digging deeper into what Dahlia had said. But… she clearly hadn’t meant to divulge so much, and the memory of the warm comfort of her hug came back to him so he sighed and settled back more comfortably in his seat instead. He’d extend the kind of grace she had offered him and let it go. “So, you were busy making tea all afternoon?” he asked her, clasping his folded hands over the flat expanse of his chiseled stomach. “I imagine I’m going to need a vat full of the stuff to sleep tonight,” he chuckled, hoping that the change of topic might put her back at ease. “Though, if worst comes to worst, I suppose I can work my way through more of Beauty and the Beast.” In truth, he would rather have a good night’s sleep—particularly with the impending visit of the princes requiring his senses to be sharp, but it wasn’t quite so bad if he had a book to read.
 

The moment Thane grinned over what she had mistakenly told him she felt like she had doomed herself. Not doomed in the sense that she was going to die, but more suffer from the fact that Thane knew that she was trying to equally win his favor. That there was the potential for romantic interest in him gave him an advantage she didn't want him to have over her. As much as it had pulled him from his dark moon she was very self-conscious now.

She was waiting for him to latch onto his opportunity, to pressure for more information, push her to have her accidentally reveal more. Her body was so tense as she waited for this outcome that when he spoke there was a visible nervous jolt of her body. It took her a moment to realize that he had changed the topic to her making tea this afternoon. Even going to far as to joke about needing a vat in order to get to sleep.

"Y-Yes," she said a bit louder than her normal tone in her anxiety. "I made more than what I said I would, it took a while since they have to be packed and formed a specific way to dry properly and then react to being steeped. Those aren't for helping someone sleep though. The ones I made are to help give a healthy boost. So if you can't sleep then at least there are other ways to have tea help in other ways. I just sort of... went and made them fancy."

Dahlia wasn't going to hold her breath and expect the teas to be magical and help Thane sleep peacefully for the whole night, just to help him get a bit more sleep or more restful sleep from when he did was good enough for her at this moment. "If you finish the book tonight I'll give you another one tomorrow. It should be an interesting read for you I think. And this one is one of my favorites." She took another sip of the wine before a thought smacked her when she realized she basically was drinking from the same bottle mouth; an indirect kiss.

The bottle slowly was put back on the table and Dahlia told herself she was being silly, like when she was younger and in love with the idea of love. Honestly, if she had never read a book where there was the mention of such a thing she probably wouldn't have thought anything of sharing the wine bottle like this. She had shared whiskey with him their first night! She mentally argued with herself that suddenly thinking such silly things meant nothing, but then another thought pushed with a question that if she was thinking of things like kissing, wouldn't that mean she was actually being attracted to him?

Nope! No! Not going down that rabbit hole! Dahlia didn't want to know the answer that she already knew and instead went straight into full blown denial.

"I'm going to take a bath," she announced before taking one final sip of the wine out of retaliation. She was going to show herself she wasn't being swayed by him in the slightest!

Dahlia got up and went to her side of the bath, a chemise and towel waiting for her. She didn't hesitate in changing out of her clothes and moving to soak in the water, leaning back and closing her eyes as she tried to think of other books she could lend to Thane to read. At the rate he read she'd be out of books fairly soon since she hadn't exactly brought an entire library. Maybe she could go into town and buy something while he was busy.
 
Fable Fable

Dahlia visibly jolted when he spoke and Thane felt a brief moment of sympathy for her, figuring that she had likely expected him to prod at the revelation she had made. But he wouldn’t. It was enough to know as much as he did now, pushing her on it would likely undo some of the tentative friendliness between them and he didn’t want that. He was learning, and part of that meant recognizing that she would not have appreciated it.

“Sounds like quite a process,” Thane said agreeably, leaning his head to the side and resting it on his closed fist, elbow of that arm situated comfortably on the arm of the chair. His hair pooled and fell to the side with the gesture, hazel eyes carefully studying the dragoness across from him. “I appreciate the effort,” the thought of her making brews to improve his health made him chuckle a little, “I suppose a bit of extra vitality never hurt anyone, perhaps it’ll make it even harder for those fools who challenge me to land a blow.” The thought was vaguely charming, and he smirked to himself at the thought of that conversation with his soldiers. They’d think him mad.

“Well, no offense to the book, but I’d sooner hope for a good night’s sleep,” he said, “But if I do manage to finish it before tomorrow I’ll certainly be interested to see what you qualify as a favourite,” Thane mused, unable to even guess what it might be. Ah, but the thought of guessing reminded him of the game she had challenged him to. With everything that had been happening he had forgotten to try guessing her favourite flower. It seemed now was as apt a time as any for it, but just as Thane was about to open his mouth to guess, Dahlia took another quick sip of the wine pushed the bottle back onto the table, and declared that she was going to take a bath.

The decision seemed somewhat out of place with their conversation and Thane wondered if she were still flustered by her earlier comments. He had hoped to have calmed them by steering the conversation elsewhere, but he supposed he couldn’t blame her if it failed. A twinge of disappointment tugged at him—though whether it came from no longer being able to guess or from the fact that he was sad to lose her company so early in the evening… he couldn’t say. “Very well,” he said as she began to leave, grabbing the wine bottle and taking another long drink of it, “Enjoy your bath then.” Really, he ought to have taken a bath himself as well, but he had an inkling that it would make Dahlia a touch uncomfortable to know he was naked on the other side of the wall so he decided that his bath that morning would do for today.

Instead, he returned to his armchair with wine bottle and book in hand, alternating between flipping pages and taking long sips from the bottle. Unfortunately, he found it difficult to focus on the page. His mind was whirling with all the different events that had happened today. The riding lesson, a notice of the princes impending visit, being hugged by Dahlia, this revelation of hers that she was trying to win him over too… little wonder he could hardly focus. A cluttered mind led to ineffective actions though, so the Warlord focused himself and worked to sort out the events one by one.

His concern over the princes’ visit was relatively self-explanatory, stemming from his distrust of Liordan and uneasiness over Raskar’s unpredictability. In the end, if they caused trouble, Thane had no doubt that he’d be able to kill them quite easily… but that was not at all ideal if he could avoid it. Still, worrying himself over it was pre-emptive and likely unnecessary.

The other things were much more significant and revolved entirely around Dahlia. First there had been the riding lesson, the way he had enjoyed her nearness and touch. It was attraction, he knew that much at least. It didn’t come as any big surprise—he’d found her attractive from the first moment he’d seen her. What was somewhat surprising was that the attraction seemed to be growing rather than remaining stable. Thane had been under the impression that attraction was a static thing; either there or not. To discover it could grow was interesting and a little troubling. At present it wasn’t difficult to keep his hands off of her, but who knew how long that would last if his attraction to her continued to grow. It doesn’t help to think about the fact that she’s bathing in the next room over, he thought to himself dryly, doing his utmost best to not think too much about that.

The hug had been an instance of companionship and comfort that had nothing sexual attached to it, a simple gesture that had affected him more than perhaps anything else that day. He hadn’t asked for it, hadn’t expected it, but she had offered it anyways. Perhaps it was partially tied to her desire to win him over, but that didn’t change the significance of the gesture. Thane frowned. Was that what she had meant when she had asked him to be genuine? It was worth pondering further.

The revelation about their courtship had been the most surprising thing to come out of today, but the emotion it wrought in him was uncomplicated and clear: hope. If that was how she felt, then his ability to win her over would be correspondingly improved… because she was receptive to it. Dahlia had essentially said as much and the memory brought another smile to his face.

It was clear that he wasn’t going to be getting any further reading done for the time being, so with a sigh the Warlord closed the book and stood, permitting himself one luxurious stretch before walking over to his dresser and picking out a pair of silk pyjamas. A quick glance towards the bathroom and Thane decided to hazard it, quickly stripping his clothes off and slipping into the silk pyjama bottoms. He slept shirtless, of course, because he found it too hot to sleep when wearing a nightshirt.

With that done he repositioned himself in the armchair, picking up the book, though it was more like a prop at this point rather than something he was actively reading. The instant Dahlia emerged from the bath he intended to ask her, “Is your favourite flower an Azalea?”
 

The warm water helped ease the tension in her body that had built up from her own internal stress at having babbled way too much revealing information to Thane. She had figured at some point he would have figured it out himself, but then perhaps not. Dahlia felt she had given Thane an unfair advantage over her by having such details slip out. That smile had made her heart flutter even as she further spilled more.

Recalling the scene caused her to groan unhappily and she submerged herself under the water trying to will herself to be invisible for a while. She could only do this until she could no longer hold her breath and was focus to breech the water to take a deep breath. She set about washing her hair and body thoroughly, though it was automatic in a way since her mind was still reminding her she had opened her big mouth.

How was she to proceed from this point exactly? Dahlia hadn't a clue.

She wasn't sure if his heart was capable of being moved by anything and there was a chance that he would think she wasn't being genuine in her actions with him. She hadn't wanted to tell him she was trying to equally earn his affections because he didn't trust her. That he would look on everything she said and did as something with an ulterior motive when the only motive was just to try to see if anything could bloom from their current circumstances.

He had misunderstood her when she tried to explain what she wanted and perhaps the next book she gave him would help him understand things better. It had a character who wanted a woman not out of love, but our of personal gain. It had quite a bit of comedy as well and wasn't one of the books most would avoid to talk of in polite society though it was secretly enjoyed.

Dahlia sighed as she needed to get out of the bath before she turned into a prune, getting out and drying herself off and changing into the loose chemise. She did her best to remove the excess water from her hair before stepping cautiously back into Thane's bedroom. She didn't think he'd be asleep and she still had to serve him some tea.

She jumped a bit when she heard Thane's voice ask her a question, her eyes darting over to his shirtless self and widening as she blushed. Honestly! Just play it cool, blushing is completely normal in uncomfortable situations and you will insist it as such. She forced herself to think that Thane was not as attractive as she thought it was because he was doing courting her to have her be a broodmare for him, that his advances had underlying motives. As much as she knew he was capable of smiling and laughing, she also knew he could be terrifying and cold. How long would his efforts last if he didn't get results sooner rather than later?

Even though he knew she was trying to earn some meager affection from him, that didn't mean she thought it was assuredly going to happen. This wasn't a fairy tale.

"N-No, it's not," Dahlia answered. She popped her head out of the room to have a servant bring a teapot with hot water. She cleared her throat and went to sit at the table where she had left the pouch, making it a point to not look at Thane, though she kept glancing his way, looking at the scar and then looking away. She was curious about it, who had done it, why they had done it, and so forth. Maybe one day she'd ask when they were more familiar with each other... or perhaps never if they came to only be able to tolerate each other.

Ilia knocked on the door and Dahlia permitted her to enter, the woman coming in with a tray weighted down by a teapot with fresh hot water and two teacups. She set down the tea set on the table took the plates and utensils from dinner before leaving the room. Dahlia took the large tea bag she had made for the chamomile lavender tea and popped it into the teapot to steep. She wasn't sure how Thane actually took his tea since one could add milk if they wanted something less sweet.

After about five minutes she pulled the teabag out and went to dump the used tea leaves into the pot she had planted her mystery seed into to help fertilize the soil. She returned to the table to pour tea in each cup. "I'm not sure how well wine and tea will mix in your stomach," she commented as she brought him the teacup, looking at the wine bottle. It was honestly something she'd never considered. She knew there were some alcoholic tea drinks but that didn't include wine.

When he would take the teacup from her she'd go back to the table to drink her own tea. She needed it just as much as him after today because she was probably going to overthink all night or have weird abstract dreams, or worst a dream about Thane... in a towel. Bad Dahlia! Stop walking back to that memory! In her frustration at herself a stupid idea crossed her mind and because she was frustrated she didn't think twice or stop herself.

Chemises frequently happened to fall off one's shoulder due to their loose nature. Not enough to expose much, but enough to reveal a shoulder and neck. Dahlia could already feel one side of chemise slipping and normally she could have just casually tugged it back into place without much though, but if Thane was going to walk around in towels and be shirtless she was going to just let it be this time. Play his own game to a certain degree. He probably wouldn't even care of notice since he would be reading or he just wasn't flustered by such things like she was.

She had her back to him now anyway she she could pretend it bothered him at least for now. As she lifted her teacup to take another sip the movement cause the chemise to slip over her shoulder and internally cackled.
 
Fable Fable

Once again, Dahlia seemed to blush in his presence and Thane frowned, puzzled over what had caused it. It took the quick aversion of her gaze and his own quick assessment of himself to realize it had likely been his shirtlessness that had affected her. It was such a normal part of his routine that Thane hadn’t even thought about it, but he supposed it might make her uncomfortable. It wasn’t his intention to put her on edge, but he couldn’t really think of a way to rectify the situation so he simply sighed and hoped she would get used to it.

“Hmm… a pity,” he said when she stammered out that his guess had been incorrect, his eyes trained on the dragoness as she went to the door to give orders to a passing servant, “Perhaps I’ll get it tomorrow.” Or perhaps never. It felt a little like his odds of managing to make things work out with Dahlia. He was more hopeful now than he had been following Roarke’s doubt, but that didn’t change the fact that Thane still wasn’t sure of what he was doing.

Though it was obvious that Dahlia was trying to keep her gaze averted from his exposed chest, Thane did not miss the darting glances she shot his way after she returned to her seat. The Warlord didn’t think it had anything to do with attraction, no, this was a familiar expression that he had seen often over the years. Training sessions were routinely done shirtless—it provided for quick visual cues as to those most adept at fighting and those who still needed training… the fewer the bruises, the higher the skill level. As a result, Thane had experienced more than his fair share of curious looks at the jagged scar that stretched from left shoulder to right hip. No soldier had ever mustered the courage to ask him about it directly, but he knew they wondered. Dahlia mirrored that same expression exactly right now, but Thane decided in the moment that he’d never tell her unless she asked him directly. And even then… it wasn’t a story he wanted to relive, and he loathed the thought of sullying whatever innocence she had when it came to the capability for violence that some had.

A knock came at the door and Thane twitched towards it, silently watching as Dahlia permitted Ilia to enter and the newly appointed handmaid set about putting out a teapot and cups while clearing their dinner dishes. “Thank-you, Ilia,” he said as she turned to leave, earning a quick, uncertain, smile from the female before she slipped back out the door.

Dahlia was already busy at work, dropping the teabag into the pot to allow it to steep. Silence lingered between them for the next five minutes as they waited for it to be concentrated enough, but at last the dragoness must have deemed it good enough, plucking out the bag and walking to the pot she had planted to dump the tea leaves into it. Thane could only assume this was for fertilization purposes and approval rippled through him at her resourcefulness in not wasting it. He turned his attention back to his cup, taking in a deep inhale through his nose. The tea smelled delightful, aromatic and redolent with its intertwining notes of lavender and chamomile.

She returned soon enough, pouring them each a cup and commenting on her doubts about the mixing of tea and wine as she handed Thane his cup. The Warlord gingerly took it from her, blowing softly over the surface and letting his eyes fall shut with a smile at the comfortingly sweet scent that came with it. “In my experience, anything mixes with wine if you try hard enough,” he said with a snort. But her concerns were valid and considering the effort she had gone to in preparing the tea, Thane felt he owed her a slightly better answer than that. “You’ve seen how I eat… of all my flaws and problems, a weak stomach is not one of them.”

Thane shifted his gaze away from her to focus on the tea, taking a long first sip and feeling a rush of pleasure at the pleasant taste. He’d had chamomile lavender tea before, but this tasted particularly good. He wasn’t sure why… perhaps Dahlia had used some ratio that was particularly effective, or maybe it was just a byproduct of him enjoying the thought of her having made it for him herself.

“It’s—” he had lifted his head to compliment the tea, just in time for the chemise she was wearing to slip down one shapely shoulder, “—d-delicious,” he stammered. It was a good thing he hadn’t had any tea in his mouth, or he might have accidentally choked on it in his surprise. He’d been doing so well in not thinking about her bathing, but there was something unearthly tempting about the suggestive way in which her bare shoulder had escaped from the thin strap of the silk chemise. The smoothness of her skin, the fragile, inherently feminine, thinness of it… Thane’s fingers longed to brush over that unblemished skin and he had to set his jaw hard and curl his fingers tighter around the cup to remind himself to behave.

It was fortunate that Dahlia wasn’t facing him, it would have been impossible to miss the heated longing that had suddenly risen to his eyes. For all their blossoming companionability and his own ineptitude in courtship—he was still very much a male with a male’s appetites. He’d found her attractive from the start, this did not help to keep him cool-headed. And it was just a shoulder. Thane sighed, though it came out more as a low growl, feeling a twinge of regret over having abolished the six-month deadline… though it was not a serious regret and he dismissed it almost as quickly as it entered his mind. “If you don’t want me to lose my head, you might want to pull your chemise back up,” he managed to say, the neutral tone not betraying the fire in his eyes.
 
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The scent of the tea wafted through the air and Dahlia enjoyed the taste. She closed her eyes to focus on the scent and taste trying to determine what changes she could make to improve the brew. Perhaps adding a slight amount of lemongrass to cut through the sweetness a bit, though it could always taste weird. She'd try some herself before offering that mixture to Thane.

She was pulled from her thoughts by Thane's voice, her head slightly turning to the side as she opened her eyes. Not enough to see him really, only catching him in her peripheral vision so not more than to note he was still in his armchair. He had stammered and she could barely contain her glee, willing herself to not smirk openly in victory. No, she was going to pretend that it had been entirely accidental as she casually took another sip of her tea.

Just as she was about to reply to his compliment he spoke once again, tell her to pull her chemise back up before he lost his head. Dahlia swallowed nervously and considered she maybe shouldn't have let her chemise slip like this after all. Her fingers reached to tug the fabric back up but then she paused. Why should she have to cover herself when he was still sitting there so casually without a shirt. Stburron Dahlia reared to life once again as she set down her teacup on the table before standing up.

Dahlia had planned on approaching him and pointing this out to him but the moment she saw his eyes she decided to cowardly stay where she was, crossing her arms over her chest which honestly probably was not the best idea since they went right under her bust. Had she seen herself in a mirror she would have shrieked that she wasn't trying to seduce Thane in actuality. She mentally chastised her heart for sending blood to her cheeks when she had cause his burning gaze, but it was too late to back down now.

"I'll fix my chemise when you put on a shirt," she managed to say. Only exactly one second after this statement did she realize how badly she had screwed up. Thane's expression was one that seemed to be of desire in reaction to her little chemise slip. Her words might have revealed her intention of letting her chemise slip, but he might not take it as her trying to teach him a lesson using one of his own methods, but rather an attempt at seduction. Shit.

Basically, if really thought about it he might be able to deduce she'd - ahem - had lewd thoughts regarding him. That wasn't lust though, just her traitorious brain recalling him walking around in a towel! One lewd thought because Thane was attractive! That didn't mean she was lusting for him, just that she found him physically attractive. That was normal! Still, she really didn't want Thane to misunderstand and think she was trying to seduce him. Dahlia needed to stand her ground. If he mistook her words then she'd just correct him. Easy, very easy. So easy as he stared her down like that. Maybe she should just go into her bedroom, she'd made her point.

Yes, good plan! Dahlia let her arms fall, turned to take one more sip of her tea and began to try to - as casually as possible - make her way to her room. Point was made, conversation could end, she'd hide in her room and then spend the night chastising herself for not thinking or doing things with more thought.
 
Fable Fable

Of course, the fool female did not take his suggestion to heart, pivoting to face him instead and crossing her arms under her chest which only emphasized the pleasing curves. Thane didn’t bother to turn his gaze away, consuming her hungrily with his eyes while she stood there. It was dangerous territory that she was treading into and it took a concerted effort for Thane to keep his back pressed against the armchair instead of leaping towards her like he wanted to.

Distracted by the sight of her it dawned on him quite late that her statement of refusal held an implication that she had intentionally let the garment slip. Was she trying to seduce him? If so, it was working. But the other possibility was that this was her attempt at protesting his lack of a shirt. If that were the case, then Dahlia had chosen a terrible method to try and educate him.

She turned to flee, heading towards her bedroom, and like most any predator when confronted with their prey attempting to escape, Thane was chasing her before he even realized he was doing it. Long legs carried him over the short distance much quicker than her and his hand slammed against the door at the same instant she reached it. Here, he towered over her, shirtless, chest heaving, and eyes on fire.

“Dahlia…” he growled, his voice half warning and half purr as he warred with himself between desire and sense. For a moment, Thane found himself leaning down towards her, not even quite sure what he was doing as he did it. He froze though as the distance between them lessened. No. He wouldn’t compel her, wouldn’t force her, he had promised as much. Never mind if she had initially intended to seduce him, her fleeing was a clear sign that she wanted nothing more to do with him.

Clenching his teeth and letting out a slow hiss of breath, Thane straightened himself up and turned abruptly, intending to pace back to the armchair and snatch up his book—maybe go for a swim in the freezing stream in the forest to cool himself down. “Goodnight, then,” he managed to rasp out, deliberately keeping himself from looking at her lest his tenuous self-control slip again to a point he could not control.
 

Thane's hand as it slammed against the door to Dahlia's room caused her to jerk in response to the shock of the sudden nearness of Thane as well as his actions. Her body tensed and her hand stayed on the door handle as she closed her eyes tightly wondering what he was going to do. Her heart felt like it was beating loud enough that anyone within the room could hear it if they listened closely enough.

She could hear his breathing, she could feel his breathing due to his proximity and she could only stand there nervously like prey caught and waiting to be eaten by a predator. When he said her name - which was rare - she was alarmed when she found herself liking the way he had said it. Honestly, what was wrong with her? In her heart she didn't want to throw herself at Thane; to be used by him like a tool. Yet here she was with her mind wandering into dangerous territory about things dealing with her physical attraction to him.

Dahlia wasn't made of stone so she knew that such feelings were normal, but she was angry with herself in this moment for actually being tempted. She wasn't stone hearted and as Thane noticed had a problem with impulse control and right now she didn't trust herself with her own best interests in denying Thane.

When he suddenly retreated she let out a shuddering breath. She couldn't even tell him goodnight as she quickly retreated to the false safety of her room. It was just a door, a door which most likely Thane wouldn't have any issues in removing as an obstacle had he truly wanted it gone. That was a thought that kept her awake for that night. She didn't want him to know she was having a sleepless night so she didn't stay up to read as that would require lighting the oil lamp and he could possibly see the light from under her door.

Tossing and turning in bed, Dahlia did indeed spend the night chastising herself for her foolish, impulsive actions. She had just wanted him to understand it was disconcerting for her with him just casually walking around in towels or no shirt. Now her senseless stubborn self had to deal with the consequences of her actions and making things very awkward between them. While trying to pretend the events from this night didn't happen tomorrow seemed a simple enough plan, that would just make things worse.

After a long sleepless night Dahlia gave up and got up to get dressed. Ilia had prepared some riding pants for Dahlia at some point as an outfit had been laid out before Dahlia had even entered her room last night. There was a simple dark blue, almost black blouse and long-tailed black underbust bodice. There were some riding boots set aside as well that when put on went up to just under Dahlia's knees.

There was hesitance as she lingered with her hand hover near the door handle. Part of her actually considered knocking on the door to sort of announce she was going to intrude into Thane's room. She sighed deeply as she decided not to since Thane would probably think it was silly and pointless. She slowly opened the door making a point to not look towards Thane's bed nor armchair and instead focused on the table where they usually ate.

Perhaps she should have suggested they cancel the riding lesson today. At least with proper attire she wouldn't have to ride with him since after last night it was probably best to maintain a decent distance. First though...

"I'm sorry, about last night," she apologized, fidgeting slightly. "I was just trying to prove a point, or rather give you a taste of your own tactic, without really thinking." What probably seemed a reluctant apology was more a genuine apology that was difficult to say because of what was actually being apologized for. "I-I just wanted you to wear a shirt. It's one thing to see my brothers walking around shirtless it's another to have you..."

She snapped her mouth shut and groaned softly as she began to yet again not filter her words. She'd basically just admitted she found him attractive. While it wasn't wrong she didn't want to feed his ego. Or maybe she just needed to tell him he was but make it a point that just him being handsome didn't mean she was going to jump in his bed.
 
Fable Fable

He wasn’t sure where he was going. All Thane knew was that he needed to cool his head and he couldn’t do that if she was within arms reach. Before the Warlord was even aware of it, he was halfway through the meadow on foot—fists clenched tightly at his sides. He was still shirtless and barefoot, mud splattering up his calves and ruining a good portion of his silk pyjamas. Roarke would give him a stern lecture for that, Thane had no doubt. He came to a sudden halt and the male groaned, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes.

It had been a near thing. His devotion to honour and upholding his word had only just won out over dragging her into his bed—and all he had seen of her had been a shoulder. “Am I this starved for attention?” he grumbled to himself, knowing ruefully that the answer to that question was a definitive yes. How could it not be? There weren’t enough females for casual dalliances, everyone knew that the brothels were unsafe if you wished to steer clear of disease, and she was a highly attractive female that he was mates with who slept in the bedroom next to his. It had only been a matter of time… only Thane had rather expected that ‘time’ to be far into the future as things developed between them—if anything developed at all. Now, he had most likely frightened her off. Whatever progress they had made was very likely undone, all because he had allowed desire to hold sway over reason for the briefest of moments.

Thane wouldn’t even get to see if the tea had helped, because there was no chance of any sleep this night. That possibility had disappeared the instant her chemise slipped. A pity… and the odds of her serving him tea again like that seemed fairly low depending on how badly he had scared her. He had begun walking again but at the memory of her squeezing her eyes shut, her small hand curled around the door handle as he loomed over her, he cursed and slammed a fist into the trunk of an innocent beech tree that had the misfortune of being within striking range. The bark cracked with the blow, a fist sized depression marring its previously smooth trunk. Thane’s knuckles did not escape unscathed either, beginning to bleed in turn. The pyjama pants wouldn’t be capable of rescue anyways, so the Warlord wiped his bloody hands on them with a scowl.

He wandered all night long, returning as dawn was breaking. Mud, blood and debris coated his pants and bare chest, hair littered with twigs and bits of lichen from where he had brushed against low-hanging branches. Maddock, working one of the yearlings in the roundpen, looked up and almost called out a greeting but at the sight of Thane he swallowed the words down. Better to pretend not to see it, he figured. Thane was grateful for that decision, storming his way back into the castle and off to his chambers. Roarke passed him in the hall, but the exclamation of dismay from the servant was met with a withering glare that had him choke back any further complaints.

The Warlord swept into their rooms, pointedly not looking towards Dahlia’s door, strode into the bath and yanked off his soiled pyjama. A long soak in the bath seemed in order, but the instant he settled down into the fragrant, hot, water his minds began to drift back to Dahlia. Some thoughts were acceptable, others drifted towards slipped chemises and the dragoness in her own bath which were decidedly not welcome. It culminated in him abandoning the thought of relaxing altogether, scrubbing himself down and pushing out of the bath as quickly as he could manage instead.

Dressed for the day, Thane settled into his armchair, staring unseeingly out the window and not reacting even when Roarke tentatively entered to lay their breakfast out on the table. He needed to be honest with Dahlia, that was the only solution he had been able to think of. If she knew his thoughts, odious as they might be to her, then perhaps she’d be less frightened or at least know to be careful of certain actions around him. In his haste to escape the bath he had missed several twigs in his hair and a single streak of blood still painted his temple where he had failed to scrub properly. That, coupled with the tired look to his eyes, told the tale of his sleepless night quite clearly if anyone cared to look closely.

When her door clicked open, the Warlord found himself floundering for the right words, guilt writhing in his chest as he noted her refusal to look at him as she approached the breakfast table. Dahlia had dressed in riding pants and a dark blue blouse, though he knew that those would have been laid out for her the previous day by Ilia and did not necessarily reflect that she still wished for him to give her riding lessons. It was the guilt that prompted him to open his mouth, but before he could apologize… Dahlia did instead.

The guilt only grew the more she spoke, Thane shifting his gaze away from her to look awkwardly at his large bare feet where they rested on the floor. “You… have nothing to be sorry for. I should have been in better control of myself, there was no call for me to chase you down like that,” he let out a low growl of frustration, hands tensing on the arms of the armchair though that movement made him wince and he glanced at the broken knuckles before carrying on. “I fear this needs to be made clear. I find you attractive,” just saying the words made him wince and Thane had to close his eyes in order to force them out, “Not just for ‘breeding purposes’ but in the usual way that a dragon finds a dragoness alluring. No, there’s no reason why seeing your bare shoulder should get a rise out of me,” he cringed at the poor choice of words, bulling on nonetheless, “But they did. I will try to remember to keep a shirt on, but then you need to do the same.” It was fair enough, he believed.

For the second time in twenty-four hours he found that his appetite was strangely absent. He glanced at the plates of food with mild distaste and sighed, reluctantly looking at Dahlia again. “If you’d prefer me to leave you be, if I scared you last night, then we don’t need to pursue riding lessons today. I’m certain I can find things to occupy my time if you’d sooner be alone—at least until the princes visit, and after that I’ll be gone much of the week, so you won’t need to concern yourself with me.”
 

Amber eyes slid over to look at Thane's back as he spoke. Dahlia had been expecting him to lecture her over her actions, to be angry or even furious with her. Instead he was apologizing for his lack of control last night. It had been a shock he actually had seemingly lost his head for a moment. Thane always seemed in control of himself nearly every moment. She hadn't even had an inkling that what she did would have gotten such a reaction from him the way it did. She was expecting a casual 'Dahlia, tug your top back up.'

She noted the twigs in his hair and her brows furrowed slightly wondering if he had gone wandering last night. Had he been so bothered by her very mild exposure of flesh that he had to vacate his own room. She really had gone too far then. The way she saw things right now they were both at fault, but Dahlia felt more responsible because she had been the cause of this mess. If she had thought things through and didn't foolishly try and get some petty revenge they wouldn't have this uncomfortable atmosphere.

When he admitted that he actually found her attractive there was a brief clenching feeling in her chest. It wasn't painful, rather she liked that he found her attractive; alluring. It wasn't like this was the first time she had been complimented for her appearance. However, this was the second time in her life she actually wanted to be found attractive by someone. Usually when she was complimented, she just smiled and thanked the person without much care.

Thane went on to say he would try to remember to wear a shirt, but that she needed to do the same. It was when he turned to look at their breakfast that she noticed he had streak of blood on his temple. His reluctant glance towards her with his offer to leave her alone today, along with reminding her she'd be left alone for most of the weeks to come made her sigh openly. She was still a bit unsettled after last night, but she was going to try and be courageous otherwise everything they've built - that fragile foundation of possibility - could crumble.

She cleared her throat and approached him slowly, as though she was trying not to spook him. "I do have something to be sorry for because I'm the source of the current problem. If I hadn't been petty about you being without a shirt then we wouldn't be having this very painfully awkward conversation. We'd be eating breakfast and then having a riding lesson. Which I hope we can still do, with both of us wearing shirts."

One her hands raised slightly, paused, and then continued to pluck a twig out of her hair. "I can't just run away from you, remember? So, consider this a peace offering?" She held out the twig to him, her heart pounding as she did her best to be brave and face Thane. "S-Since you've been honest I'll be honest right now and admit I am absolutely terrified right now. N-Not of you! Well, slightly scared because you're really hard to read... clearly... since I assumed and then you might be... nevermind! What I'm terribly trying to say is that I don't want to avoid you because of this."

Dahlia let out a soft groan of frustration as she closed her eyes. Her cheeks blushing from her building feeling of embarrassment at always tumbling over herself as she tried to talk to him. She was simply trying to communicate that despite what had happened last night she was still going to try. That she wasn't going to avoid him because all that would do was cause the problem the fester. Dahlia wanted to resolve this here and now as best as she could, but she couldn't speak properly.

"I-If you're fine with riding lessons today then I am," she finally managed to get out, reaching out to grab his hand that had the injured knuckles then noticing the wound. "What did you do, get in a fight with a tree?"
 
Fable Fable

Wariness felt like the wrong emotion, logically, but wary was still how Thane felt when Dahlia approached him. There was a caution and care to the way she moved that reminded him vaguely of how he approached the horses after they’d been spooked by a storm. It might have been funny, if he’d been in a mood to laugh.

He watched her as she came to a stop in front of him, listening quietly as she insisted that she did have something to be sorry for and continued to explain her perspective of things to him. Thane had expected fear and revulsion from her, so to be confronted with an apology and the offering of a twig she plucked from his hair as a peace offering stirred a feeling of unexpected warmth in him. He took it from her silently, the tacit acceptance in the gesture speaking volumes more than his words ever could. Dahlia wasn’t done explaining herself though, her stammer returning as she admitted to being terrified of him, or rather, scared of her inability to read him. But what it ultimately boiled down to, the one ringing statement that filled him with relief, was that she didn’t want to avoid him in spite of the incident of the previous night.

As Dahlia groaned and blushed, Thane let out a slow, contemplative, breath of his own. It was not the answer he had believed she would give him, and it ushered in a feeling of deep relief. Perhaps everything would be salvageable after all, he hadn’t irreparably torn down the foundation of what they were tentatively building together.

A flicker of surprise jolted through the Warlord when Dahlia reached for his injured hand, his heart thudding unevenly for a moment when her fingers first touched his skin. That was new, and not particularly welcome, though Thane felt fairly confident that he could hide his reaction from her. He’d need to take extra pains not to touch her in any way if this would be the result, but at least they wouldn’t be riding together today. He would have had a time of it trying to figure out a solution in that case, even the thought of it now made his mouth run dry.

“Yes, though the tree doesn’t look very good either,” he said without thinking, blinking as he realized that this was not perhaps something she needed to know. But Thane couldn’t see any harm in admitting it, so he forced his shoulders to relax, fingers twitching slightly with a desire to touch her own small digits as they inspected the wound. It took a concerted effort to stay still, his eyes closing as he racked his mind for some topic of conversation that might distract him.

“You should bring some apples and carrots for Levent and Laleia,” he finally managed to say, “And perhaps we can bother Greta for some food to be used as lunch for us. I had planned on showing you the forest perimeter—it can be rather lovely,” he had actually thought of taking her to a pool that expanded off of the creek, it was a deep jade green this time of year; lovely to swim in or simply lounge beside. The idea seemed uncomfortably intimate now though, so Thane decided to play it by ear whether he took her there or not.
 

The wound on his knuckles was clean at least. When Thane answered and said that the tree didn't look very good either she couldn't help but smile. One, it was a very amusing to imagine Thane attacking a defenseless tree. Two, the tree obviously won unless Thane was going to go take an axe to it to declare himself the uncontested winner of their bout. She wasn't going to treat him like a child and drag him to have the wound treated as though it was some terrible wound. He had a deep scar across his torso, this was minor compared to what had inflicted that. As long as he cleaned it the wound would be fine.

Dahlia didn't release his hand as she looked back up at him when he mentioned bringing treats for the horses, even bothering Greta for lunch and mentioning showing her around. She smiled up at him, doing her best to move past last night. They had both apologized and come to an agreement regarding attire. She gently tugged his hand to move him towards the table where breakfast still awaited them. She wondered how grouch Thane would be if he didn't eat and then decided ti was best to not get answer to that question if she could help it.

When Thane would sit down Dahlia didn't immediately go to her own seat, instead she stood there and plucked out the missed twigs and other debris out of his hair. With that done she paused for a sliver of a second before letting her fingers comb through his hair. It was just to help detangle it! It just had a perk of letting her satisfy a mild curiosity about his hair. He bathed frequently enough and while his last attempt to clean himself clearly hadn't gone well, his hair was surprising soft.

She cleared her throat and finally sat down across him him, "Y-You have a bit of blood, here." She used her own finger to tap on her face where there was now dried blood. She wasn't so bold as to clean that off for him. Hair was best to have someone help with lest you make things worse. He was more than capable of tending this.

Her breakfast was different from Thane's. It mostly consisted of fresh cut fruit along with some oatmeal. Thane's of course was laden with meats though it seemed Greta was going to try and to get him to eat some fruit himself as a small bowl was on his side as well and Dahlia tilted her head wondering if he was actually going to eat it or not. Part distraction to try and keep herself from recalling last nights events and making herself uncomfortable even more so around Thane, she wondered if he could bargain something to get him to eat; wondering what he would value in exchange for such an act.

This though led to another and after taking a bite and swallowing she peered over at Thane. "Have you ever played truth or dare?" she asked. Now, she wasn't going to actually play that game with him. He could just try and dare her to do things like kiss him. The thought made her blush and she quickly took a bite oatmeal and averted her gaze that had for a split second moved to look at his lips. Her curiosity was her biggest weakness right now. She'd never been kissed before and as much as it was written in romance novels she'd wondered how people didn't accidentally bite each other or bump teeth and numerous other things.

Not to mention it made her recall the way Thane had said her name last night which was what she was actively trying to avoid; that memory. "I'm not going to give you free reign to dare me, but I thought of another game. Which you're probably thinking is just more silliness.. but the whole point of these games is getting to know each other. Only... this is partially more for my entertainment you could say. Twisting up the basic idea of someone challenging a suitor, only I dare you to do something and if you complete it in a satisfactory manner you can ask me any question and I'll answer honestly no matter what you ask. The only question you can't ask is what my favorite flower is."

"You can dare me to do stuff to if you want so I can ask you questions as well, i-if you want to that is. You can say no of course."
 
Fable Fable

The small warmth of her hand lingered on his, Dahlia choosing to keep them tethered together through the touch even though she had no reason to. Was it pity? Curiosity? Some attraction towards him that she herself felt? Simple companionship? Whatever it was, he couldn’t pretend he didn’t like it. She smiled up at him, the expression soothing some of his tension, though it didn’t change the churning feeling of his stomach or the budding heat in his abdomen that had resulted from the simple contact of their hands.

Still, as she tugged him to the breakfast table he did not resist, seating himself as she seemed to wish and glancing at his meat-laden plate. He was about to comment on Dahlia’s own rabbit-food breakfast, when it occurred to him that she hadn’t left his side yet. The Warlord turned to question if something might be wrong when she began to pluck twigs from his hair. Thane went very still, as though any movement might cause Dahlia to flee. “I suppose I missed some,” he said, his voice rough and a little pinched.

Eventually, it seemed she’d gotten all of the debris out and she ended the contact by combing her fingers through his hair. This act sent a shiver rippling up Thane’s spine, finding he liked that particular touch a great deal. Perhaps he might be able to manipulate her into touching his hair some more if he—the Warlord froze at that thought, eyes widening fractionally. What was he thinking? Manipulating her in any way was the last thing he should be doing. He clenched his jaw and stared at his plate; expression pinched. She was simply attempting to be kind and smooth things over between them, he had no business wanting anything beyond that—not after how he’d behaved yesterday.

When Dahlia had moved away from him and seated herself on the opposite side of the table, Thane felt a faint feeling of relief. The distance imposed between them again made self-control a great deal easier. He was relatively confident that he could get his attraction towards her under control enough to mostly hide it, but right now—so soon after the debacle of last night—his nerves were too strung out to make that easy.

“Blood?” he murmured, cluing in at last to what Dahlia was saying and frowning slightly. A quick lick to two of his fingers and he scrubbed at the spot on his forehead that the dragoness indicated. “Did I get it?” he asked her, the mundane nature of the conversation feeling almost jarring… but he supposed that was to be expected as they tried to move on beyond the awkwardness. He was grateful to her for showing such grace in the face of his actions… even if Dahlia felt she deserved a good portion of the blame, it had been Thane who had lost his head and that was on him alone.

She began to eat but Thane only picked at his plate, managing a small bite of meat but finding it wasn’t sitting well in his stomach. Lack of sleep, nerves, tension, desire… all of it mixed into a chaotic swell of feelings that butchered his appetite completely.

He was grateful for the distraction of her question but frowned slightly as he tried to recall the game mentioned. “Truth or dare? No, I don’t believe I’ve played it, though if the name is anything to go by, I believe I can guess the premise of it.” Thane answered a little warily, unsure of where she intended to go with it, now that she had brought it up.

Dahlia’s amendments to the basic game and her desire to play it in the first place did seem a little silly—but her belief that it would help them get to know each other better meant that Thane could not think of a truly good reason to refuse. Besides, the thought of some sort of game where suitors were challenged to things and rewarded only if successful appealed to his sense of maleness and nature as a Warlord. If he got to know more about Dahlia in the process, well, it was all for the good in the end.

“Very well,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning away from the table and his plate of untouched food, “I’m willing to play this game with you,” he studied her quietly for a moment and then offered a small smile. “So, what is your first task for me?”
 

As Thane licked his fingers and attempted to scrub the blood off where she had pointed Dahlia was tempted to stare pointedly at the napkin that sat unused on his side of the table. Instead she leaned over and plucked it and held it up for him to use. "No, you just smeared it," she informed him casually. There could have been comments about how skin didn't really absorb blood, but she kept her mouth shut, giving smiling and giving a small shake of her head at the absurdity Thane was capable at times.

As Thane mused on her suggestion to play a modified version of truth or dare she took a small bite from the oatmeal, noting how Thane wasn't eagerly eating his food. She wondered if it was true then that a man's heart and stomach were somehow linked. Thane wasn't in his usual mood and so it affected his appetite. Dahlia wasn't sure if Thane would want to play another game with her and was getting ready to spend some time convincing him when he agreed on his own.

She clapped her hands together happily as she already had a task for him. "Your first dare, dear suitor, is you eat your breakfast." Dahlia openly grinned at him with a challenging stare. It was a simple dare meant get him to eat. To try and make things go back to what was normal for them with Thane eating faster than she could ever do and also eating much more. "You don't have to eat it all, just at least half."

Dahlia made a point to take a bite of her fruit, eagerly staring at Thane waiting for him to eat more and not just poking at the food on his plate. Should he go through with the dare, upon his completion Dahlia would give him a smile with playful clapping as a means of expressing a 'well done.' She wasn't sure what Thane would want to ask her, but she would keep her word and answer it honestly... even if it was horribly embarrassing.

There was hope that Thane would also participate and dare her some things here and there in order for her to ask questions of him as well. While she could probably ask him regardless of the game, it seemed unfair for only him to have complete dares in exchange. If he never dared her to do anything she'd remind him or wait, she could dare him to dare her! Yes! Perfect! She'd have to remember that was an option. The problem was he could just dare her right back to dare him... which could get a little chaotic but he'd still be permitted to ask her a question.

She wondered how a picnic would go with them and she had an idea, getting up from the table after finishing her breakfast and grabbing the book she had let him borrow. "Let's bring this with us then if we're eating outside today. Either I can hit you with it or we can read it, both are good options," she joked.
 
Fable Fable

“Ah,” he muttered, taking the napkin from Dahlia’s outstretched hand and scrubbing at the spot on his forehead. Inwardly, Thane cursed himself for being so uncouth and idiotic in trying to rub it away with just his fingers and spit. Blood and wounds were commonplace for him, he knew well enough that skin wouldn’t absorb it, but in his turmoil and stress over the whole situation with Dahlia he was making himself out to be a fool. “There,” he said at last, under his breath, as he pulled the napkin away and saw the stain of copper on its lily-white surface. It meant a perfectly good napkin was now ruined, but at least he wasn’t wandering about with a streak of blood on his forehead or a forest in his hair.

For a moment, Thane could only blink at Dahlia’s first dare. The happy clap of her hands and challenging expression in her eyes as she said it managed to coax a smile from him. It was strangely endearing—her excitement and the fact that her first dare was geared towards having him eat his meal. It reminded him exactly of the couples in the romance books, though this time he didn’t bring that up.

Instead, the Warlord turned his attention to the meal, blowing out a breath and picking up his cutlery. He wasn’t feeling hungry, but he knew there was room in his stomach for it and he certainly wasn’t about to fail this first dare. So, he began to pile the food into his mouth, chewing mechanically and swallowing. Not bothering to savour the taste (though, of course, for him ‘savouring the taste’ usually only added another second or two to the time it took to eat) he made incredibly quick work of the meal. Reluctantly, he even turned to the bowl of fruit, shoveling it in as quickly as he could manage and swallowing in a quick gulp. Dahlia had said he only needed to eat half, but that didn’t seem like much of an accomplishment.

With the meal completed he dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, though that didn’t take away from the animalistic way in which he’d eaten, and then cleared his throat. He was greeted with a broad smile and approving applause from Dahlia, making him grin reflexively in turn and offer a slight bowing of his head.

“As for my question…” Thane was silent for a long moment, eyes studying her thoughtfully as he mulled over what he wanted to ask her. “What was your greatest dream as a child? Not… literal dream, but aspiration,” he clarified, tilting his head curiously. There was a lot to be learned by a person’s ambitions, and he was interested in what Dahlia might have wanted from her life—had she not been treated as a commodity and ultimately mated to him.

He watched as Dahlia rose and plucked the book up from the table, snorting at her declaration that she could either hit him with it or they could read it. “I have a feeling the tree hurt more than you swatting me with the book would,” he teased, arching an eyebrow at her slender arms… he doubted she’d be able to properly hurt him, even if she tried. “But alright, I suppose we had best head out then,” he said, pushing himself up from the table as well and opening the door to the hall—opening the door for her and gesturing for her to go ahead of him. They’d stop off first at the kitchen to get food from Greta and then make their way to the stables to tack up the horses and head out for the ride.
 

"My greatest dream as a child?" Dahlia repeated the question, more asking herself again as she pondered on it. "Way too many things honestly. I once wanted to be like my older brothers and learn how to fight. That got us all in a ton of trouble with my mother. She didn't like what she calls my 'tomboy phase.' Later on I wanted to be an alchemist... and I nearly singed off my eyebrows after wildly mixing things without much care. It's still an interest, but I just focused more on herbology rather than have my mother constantly lecture me and also... to avoid any future explosions from experiments."

She looked slightly sheepish as she recalled one of her experiments resulting in one of the unused sheds to burn down. She'd made it into a secret laboratory of sorts and after that was when her mother had put her food down with Dahlia being left to her own devices. "The one that has lasted the longest I would say would be being an herbalist," she answered after thinking back to all the odd things she had wanted to be or do as a child up until it had been made clear she had limited choices in her life.

"As far as thinking me hitting you with the book would't hurt, you won't know until it happens," she said with a laugh. He was probably right though. He was the Warlord Thane, her smacking him with s book was nothing compared to what he normally endured during real battles or any training. She could always pinch him, that was something she was very good at to inflict pain when she actually wanted to, usually against one of her brothers when they annoyed her or teased her.

Dahlia exited the room, making her way to the kitchen with Thane to see about having lunch prepared and also to loot snacks for the horses. Greta was quick to make something for their lunch, pacing it expertly into a basket, even stuffing a small thin blanket for them to use. There was a separate, smaller basket with apples and carrots for Laleia and Levent. As they walked she tried to think of other things to challenge Thane with. Nothing too daring of course, or dangerous, she wanted to start with simple things. It seemed it would be best based on whatever situation they were in together at the time. Randomly issuing a challenge seemed weird so she'd do it as she thought of them.

The horses were eager, especially when they realized they were treats in sight. Dahlia had said she was going to bribe his horse and she kept her word, giving Laleia and Levenboth apples before smirking at Thane, "Just wait, I have a trick up my sleeve and Laleia will prefer me over you." It was a comment made in jest of course, though that didn't mean Dahlia wouldn't actually try, but that she didn't expect Laleia to have more loyalty for Dahlia than Thane.

Maddock helped her saddle Levent, which was more just making sure Dahlia didn't screw anything up that would hurt the horse or herself. She used the mounting block to get onto Levent and then wondered that if they dismounted for lunch how exactly she was going to get back up. Her eyes went to Thane as he'd most likely have to give her a small boost, but she could just use it as a chance to have him help her learn to mount Levent without the mounting block.

Saddlebags were added as well to help carry the load of the picnic, the items taken out of the basket that was used to carry the food over to the stables and evenly weighted in each bag. "Alright, your both set. Might not want to dally out there too long, my joints are aching which means it's going to rain."

Outside, while cloudy, there didn't seem to be any signs of a storm. Dahlia didn't comment about such silly superstitions since her own grandmother did the same thing, but that was mostly just to know if there was a sudden chill coming since cold affected her aged joints and fingers.
 
Fable Fable

Thane smiled as Dahlia described the dreams she had had as a little girl. He hadn’t expected fighting and looked her over thoughtfully at that suggestion. With her petite frame and good looks, he found it incredibly difficult to picture her as a warrior, but stranger things had happened. Alchemist and herbalist seemed more in the realm of possibility and he nodded thoughtfully to himself, tucking away her answer to perhaps talk about in more detail later.

“I suppose time will tell if you’re capable of doing damage,” he remarked with a snort, “I’m certain I’ll do something at some point that you deem worthy of hitting me for.” The thought was an amusing one. He’d been bashed by shields, cut by swords, and pounded directly by the fists of male dragons who had been fighting since they could walk—he struggled to think of how a single female could manage to hurt him with a mere book.

Things went smoothly as they made their way to the stables, Greta handing him a bottle of wine that he palmed and tucked smoothly into their basket when Dahlia wasn’t looking. Most likely he’d sneak the bottle back out later and leave it somewhere to be retrieved at a later date. He wanted more inhibitions, not less. Frankly, he had a feeling that Greta had slipped it to him because Roarke had informed her about the state of his mateship to Dahlia. Perhaps it was a conciliatory gesture, or else her attempt to help him in his mission. He’d have to ask her later (and if his hunch was right, tell her to leave it be) but for the time being he took it as the cook being kind and wasn’t about to refuse.

They made it the rest of the way to the stable without incident, the Warlord chuckling as Dahlia fed the two horses their treats and primly said that she had a trick up her sleeve to win Laleia’s loyalty. “I’ve been bringing her treats her entire life… if my warhorse decides to snub me, she’ll always make for a tasty roast,” he was joking, the twinkle in his eyes and grin on his face giving it away, but the words were said in a believable flat tone that might have startled her if she wasn’t looking at him when he said it.

Thane watched from beside Laleia, having efficiently tacked her up himself, as Maddock helped Dahlia prepare Levent to be ridden. The destrier seemed eager, his ears pricked forward excitedly, at the prospect of a proper ride. In other horses this might lead to wild behaviour, but Thane was confident in the training of the stallion that he would keep himself under control and give Dahlia a smooth ride.

When Maddock was happy with how Levent was saddled, Dahlia mounted the stallion using the mounting block and Thane nodded approvingly to himself, turning at last to Laleia and swinging himself with practiced ease onto her back.

The Warlord had carefully plucked the wine bottle from the picnic basket while Dahlia had been busy with Levent and transferred it to one of the saddlebags. He wasn’t sure when or where he would dump the bottle, but he certainly wasn’t leaving it for the stablemaster—aching joints or no.

“Never fear, Maddock, I’m fairly sure we won’t melt—even if a downpour comes,” he said dryly. Thane quite liked the rain. It obscured you from being seen by your enemies, it had a soothing rhythmic sound, and it was cooling on the skin. Being trapped in the rain had no real downfalls that he could see. Provided one didn’t get too cold, the only ill effect might be an annoying dampness of socks.

He nudged Laleia forward with his heels, making sure that Dahlia was following him, and picked up their speed to a trot, making a beeline for a specific part of the forest encircling the estate. Taking her to the pool off the river seemed like a good choice after the previous night and the morning they’d had. Something beautiful to take both their minds off of things.

It took about half an hour of riding before they emerged through the trees into a clearing. The river rushed through the far end, its banks lined by stones and the water a deep green as was typical for this season. Budding off of the eddying river a deep, emerald green, pool of water sat still and calm. There was a small patch of beach surrounding it—a mixture of small stones and sand—with the towering evergreens hemming them in on either side. It felt secret, safe, a place that no one but the two of them and their horses knew about. And this feeling was mostly true… the only other people who had known of the existence of the pool were now dead.

“Here we are,” Thane announced, hopping off of Laleia’s back (leaving her to wander and graze) while he tossed the heavy saddlebags over his well-defined shoulder as though they weighed nothing. “We can set out the blanket and food and eat shortly, if you’d like,” he offered, gaze sweeping the peaceful clearing as the birds trilled in muted voices to each other. The air did feel heavy with the expectation of a storm, though it was a high overcast and the clouds did not presently seem dense enough to offer rain. He hoped this held true during their outing… more for Dahlia’s sake than his own.

He walked a few paces to a nice spot beside the pool and carefully set down the bags, pulling out the picnic blanket and spreading it out over the ground. “Ah, do you need any help dismounting?” it hadn’t occurred to him initially that Dahlia might struggle with the height of Levent, and he turned his head to glance back at her over his shoulder.
 
ashwynne ashwynne (Wrote a bit for Thane so my post wouldn't be short, just him helping her down without much detail. Hope that is alright.)

While Levent was eager to go for a ride the stallion didn't try to rush off the moment Thane began to head out riding upon Laleia keeping their speed to a trot. Dahlia wasn't sure she could handle galloping to be honest, at least not for a while and became more familiar with Levent himself. She would have to ask Maddock a great many things regarding Levent's training so she didn't give him any confusing commands or signals. Levent was trained as a warhorse so there were bound to be some differences there.

Dahlia followed behind Thane with her eyes burning with curiosity as she took in the environment. It was all new and unfamiliar to her and much larger than her family's own estate based on how long it too for them to reach the destination Thane had in mind. She took in the green water wondering if there was due to algae bloom from an imbalance in the water. It was still very lovely to behold.

Thane dismounted Laleia with ease before taking the heavy saddle bags without any strain. It was still fairly early in the day and she was still full from eating breakfast, "Maybe a bit later." As Thane went to set down the bags Dahlia contemplated how she was going to dismount Levent without having a negative outcome. She looked over at Thane as he inquired if she needed help and she flushed with mild embarrassment.

"J-Just a tiny bit of help. It's better for me to learn to mount and dismount without assistance, but I'd also rather not risk falling," she admitted. "I'll dismount just... can you help make sure I'm not going to collide with the ground?" She just needed him to help her should she lose her grip or balance in her attempt to dismount. Of course than would mean he'd have to hold her by her hips or waist while guiding her down and she was flustered by that, but she was determined to do this.

She swallowed as she was assisted down by Thane, his warm large hands on her waist causing her heart to flutter nervously. When both her feet were steady and on solid ground she thanked him politely, though she couldn't bring herself to look at him directly. "It's lovely here," she commented, trying to pull the attention away from herself. Levent huffed a bit before going over where Laleia was and grazing with her.

Dahlia openly wandered the area, walking to the perimeter of the pool of water, "Is it always this green?" She wondered if this was just a seasonal algae bloom and if the water ever cleared. If the water did clear up Dahlia might want to come during the hotter months for a swim to cool off. She didn't know where her relationship with Thane would be at that point so she might end up swimming here alone or with him.

She turned away and went to where Thane had set up their picnic area, first sitting down and then just laying down on her back on the blanket and closing her eyes to bask in the warmth of the sun. If she had done this in front of her mother, her mother would have been squawking about Dahlia not behaving like a proper lady. She just enjoyed being outside. It wasn't the flower fields she had grown up with, but it was still a calm place.

"I dare you to continue reading the book, out loud," she challenged. "At least one chapter." One chapter seemed fair enough to ask, it wouldn't take up too much of their time and it allowed Dahlia to enjoy his voice like when he had recited from The Bonds of a Heart. He could always reject her request if he had wanted to do something else.
 
Fable Fable (But of course!! Never a problem c: )

Helping Dahlia dismount was… challenging. Not the act itself—Thane felt that some of his swords were heavier than she was—but the way her waist fitted into his hands. Even as he released her his fingers itched to touch her again and he released a pent-up sigh of aggravation under his breath. He had not expected this, had not expected to have such a hair-trigger when it came to wanting her. Set off by a set of seemingly innocent actions, unable to be taken back. He was beginning to anticipate his own feelings, which enabled him to rein himself in, but it was still new and somewhat disorienting.

He watched Dahlia as she explored, a sense of pride in his estate blooming as she stated that it was lovely and then asked about the colour of the water. “It’s not always this green,” Thane said, hands shifting to his hips as he surveyed the beautiful scenery. “Limestone deposits along the river and dissolved limestone in the water of the pool go under some change with the summer heat. By the time fall comes it’s this lovely shade of green that you see,” he explained, smiling slightly. He had always loved learning about the waters and what lent them their magnificent colours. “Over winter the green colour fades and the process begins all over again once the weather starts to warm.”

Thane’s gaze continued to follow her as she returned from the bank of the pool and stretched out on the picnic blanket, eyes closed and the sun warming her face. It made for a beautiful scene and the Warlord allowed himself a moment to admire her openly, eyes brushing appreciatively over her body. Following that he went and sat on the blanket beside her, leaning back and propping himself up on his hands.

He arched an eyebrow at her next dare, turning to look at her skeptically though she couldn’t see it with her eyes closed. “Are you going to dare me to get a full eight hours of rest and eat all my vegetables too? Or sing you a lullaby to put you to sleep?” he snorted at the image of that but picked up the book, nonetheless. Far as he could tell, Dahlia’s dares were working out to mundane things that he would have probably done if she’d simply asked—no dare required. He also didn’t think these were particularly suited to assess his worthiness as a mate. Thane had expected things that were actually… daring. But it was what it was and if dared to do it he certainly wasn’t going to refuse. Before he started though…

“Your dreams as a girl, to be an herbalist, alchemist, or fighter? I don’t think I can condone alchemy and the potential for burning down the entire estate, but if you wish to pursue herbology the gardens are already yours. If you still have an interest in fighting… I can find someone to train you, at least in rudimentary self-defence. It may prove useful someday if I’m not there to protect you myself,” he hoped such a day would never come, but hoping wouldn’t keep her safe. “I’m well aware that mateship was not what you wanted for yourself but,” he shrugged slightly, “Perhaps you can find some way to pursue your interests during the time I am working.”

Thane cleared his throat a little awkwardly, not wanting them to linger overlong on this overture of his, and flipped the book open to where he had left off. His smooth baritone rolled out over the clearing, cutting off any response that Dahlia might have made to his offer for the time being. The Warlord read methodically, getting swept along in the story as he read until he lost all track of time. Three and a half chapters passed before he realized that the sky was beginning to grow a touch darker and his stomach was rumbling. “I think, perhaps, I should stop here for now,” he said a little reluctantly, glancing at the page number to remember where he’d been and gently shutting it.

“I believe I’m owed a question too, considering the fact that I’ve read well beyond one chapter,” he chuckled, “Have you ever been in love?” he didn’t know if he wanted to hear the answer… or how it might make him feel if she answered in the affirmative, but it was something he had wondered so he decided to ask it.

In spite of his resolution to steer away from alcohol, he opened up the saddlebag and pulled out the wine from where he had tucked it beneath the other food. In a fluid movement he popped open the cork, took a long sip, and then settled the bottle in between them in case Dahlia wanted any. As he waited for her answer, he also pulled out the food Greta had packed—sandwiches by the look of them and a salad with snap peas on the side.
 
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