[Tethers] Making Friends - Shopping Buddies

[dracoqueen22]

Collection Title: Making Friends

Shopping Buddies - Rathi and Dakota
Universe: Tethers
Characters: Rathi of the Cinders, Dakota Sorrel, Other(s)
Rating: K+
Description: After an unfortunate encounter with some lucky bandits, Rathi and Dakota take care of the supply shopping, and learn a little bit about each other along the way.

“We need supplies to make it to Marbaden,” Rathi announces.

She plants her hands on her hips and surveys her eclectic collection of companions.

They’re a sorry lot, is what they are. Celeste and Tempest are both knocked out on one of the beds, snoring in odd tandem, Tempest wrapped in bloody bandages and Celeste’s face and body coated in sweat.

Tyrael sits nearby, divested of his armor and his bloodied clothes, his face a maelstrom of emotion Rathi is not prepared to pick apart right now.

“We can get it tomorrow. They need their rest,” Tyrael says, as though his own face isn’t creased with fatigue and dark circles crowd under his eyes.

Bad luck, it had been, to stumble on that roving group of bandits. They were a motley bunch, but they’d taken Rathi and her companions by surprise, and had gotten their lucky licks in before they’d been driven off.

Tempest had taken the brunt of it. She’d have lost her leg, if not for Celeste, and now Celeste is all tapped out and exhausted. It’ll be at least a day, perhaps two, before either of them will have recovered enough to move.

“Or we can save time and get it today. We don’t need all have to sit here and be nannies,” Rathi says, because her skin crawls at the thought of staying in this room, playing nursemaid to the injured.

She doesn’t like it, this evidence of the mortality of her companions. She needs to be doing something. She needs to be moving, before the urge to run away takes her.

“Fine,” Tyrael says, in a voice creaking with fatigue. He flops a hand at her. “You know what to get.” He starts to dig in his pockets, probably looking for his money pouch, which he can never find these days, since he learned his lesson with Dakota and started moving it around.

“I’ve got it this time. No worries.”

Rathi turns to leave, but her eyes catch Dakota slumped in a corner, staring blankly at Tempest. Their thief had come through relatively unscathed -- Tempest kept intercepting attacks and putting herself between him and the nearest danger -- and there’s an empty look in his eyes.

Rathi knows that look all too well.

“Hey, Dakota,” she says, half in and out of the doorframe. When he looks up, she waves her stump of an arm at him. “Come be my strongarm.”

His face goes through a ripple of emotion, a protest on his lips, no doubt he doesn’t want to leave Tempest’s side. But sitting here, staring at her while she sleeps, that’s not healthy. It’s an invitation to chastise oneself, and Dakota self-flagellate’s enough.

“They’ll be fine. Tyrael’s here,” Rathi says, and then she remembers, “Easton, too, I guess. If you want to count him.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” comes the dry reply, from the corner, where Easton has sat upon a chair, legs curled lotus beneath him, his belongings piled around him like a dragon might perch on its hoard.

“I could still leave,” Easton adds, as if he hasn’t said this twice already and has yet to follow through on the threat.

“You won’t.” Rathi raises her eyebrows at him before returning her attention to Dakota. She’d clap her hands together, if she could. “Come on. I want to get to the shops before they close.” This one-intersection town probably shut down at sunset.

They’d been lucky to stumble on it as it is. Otherwise, it would’ve been a long, long trek through the wilderness to Marbadan, toting several injured on their backs. Times like these, Rathi wishes for a wizard. They, at least, can summon safe houses for rest.

Or so she’s heard.

Dakota hesitates, casting another worried glance at Tempest, but she snores loudly and flops over, mumbling something in her sleep that sounds like “gimme another shot”.

“She’ll be fine,” Tyrael says, and he tosses Dakota what is probably the nicest, most reassuring smile Rathi has ever seen him offer.

She’s kind of jealous. All Tyrael usually has for her is annoyed grimaces.

“Fine,” Dakota says. He stands with all the reluctance of a child whose been told to tend to their chores. “Let’s make this quick.”

"We'll be back soon," Rathi promises, and closes the door behind her, Dakota hovering uncomfortably close, like he thinks she's going to be shivved in the hallway and he's determined to prevent that.

She honestly hadn't known he cared.

"Do you know what we need?" Rathi asks to fill the heavy silence.

Dakota, for as large as he is, follows her on whisper-quiet footsteps. It's a bit unnerving, to feel him looming behind her, but not really hear him. He even avoids the creaky stair Rathi had noticed when they first arrived and hauled their bloody burdens up to the second floor.

The proprietor had charged them extra for the potential stains.

"Food," Dakota grunts. "Bandages."

"Well, yes. Those," Rathi says with a laugh. "But also a nice, warm bath and then some drinks. The strong stuff preferably."

"You don't want to go to the market?" Dakota asks as they step off the landing into the small, cramped space of the first floor which doubles as a bar and apparently, central meeting place for the entire town.

Nearly every table is full, and there are many in here, shoved into every inch of available space with very little room to walk between. Conversation can best be described as a dull roar, and the scent of the evening's meal hangs heavy in the air. Rathi's stomach growls.

"After the market," Rathi says and cleaves a path for them through the crowd, apologizing where she must, and using a fiery glare when stubborn dwarves refuse to move. It’s quite effective when licks of flame start flickering from the tips of her hair.

They plunge into the late afternoon, the sun turning the sky shades of orange against the encroaching night. Rathi hopes the market is still open. There isn't much to the town, maybe a dozen buildings built along the road, as though someone stopped to camp one night and then decided to stay, and others did, too.

Forest rises up behind the buildings, maybe one hundred feet from their backs, and seems dark and unwelcoming in the oncoming night. The trees grow close together, and the underbrush is thick and unwieldy, meaning the only easy path is the road they'd taken to get here.

It isn’t the Selwyn, Rathi and her companions had left that place two days ago, but it is eerie nonetheless.

She talks, to take her mind off it and other things.

"Tempest's going to be fine, you know," Rathi says as Dakota now walks beside her as opposed to trailing her, his brow low in a glower, his eyes constantly scanning their surroundings, despite the road being mostly deserted. "She's made of tougher things."

Dakota snorts. "I don't need you to tell me that," he says, but the tension in his shoulders visibly eases, so maybe he had needed someone to say it.

"You care for her a lot," Rathi comments, maybe fishing, maybe trying to be casual, who knows. She’s playing it by ear. She still doesn’t know all that much about her traveling companions. "I think that's nice. In a world like this, finding people to care about, it's a nice thing."

Dakota's eyes narrow. He gives her a look like he's trying to see if she's poking fun or being genuine. "Is that how you lost your arm? People not caring?"

Rathi laughs before she can stop herself. "No. I gave this up gladly because it got me what I wanted." She taps the end of her arm, where puckered skin is scarred and shiny and proof-positive that she, too, is made of tough things. "But I did come here alone, and I didn't expect to make friends like I have, so it's nice."

Sometimes, she forgets that not everyone is raised in a political climate, where friendships and lovers and intimacies are weighed and measured by how far said connection might help you climb. Rathi doesn't know if she's ever had a genuine friend. She'd been unwilling to trust anyone that far, despite her friendliness. She's learned to keep herself apart.

She couldn't show favor. She couldn't get too close. She couldn't trust anyone wanted her for herself, rather than the throne she intended to inherit.

"Friends?" Dakota echoes. "You barely know us."

Rathi arches a brow at him. "What would you prefer I call you? People I've decided not to kill or abandon? Co-workers? Acquaintances I intend to drop as soon as I can? All of that's a mouthful, and not the kind I like."

She winks.

Dakota stares at her, the soft blues of his skin flushing to purple. "Let's just get what we need," he mumbles and fumbles with the door to the squat mercantile, all but yanking it open.

She swallows a laugh and follows him into the shop, squinting at the abrupt brightness. There must be over a dozen everlamps hanging from the ceiling and perching on various shelves.

"Hi, hello, good evening! Welcome to my shop!" From the counter at the side emerges a voice much too cheerful for Rathi's comfort. There's a gnome perched on a stool behind it, impossible to tell their age given the longspan of gnomes, but Rathi would put them somewhere in the middle.

They've got a poof of ginger-orange hair and a spray of freckles across the bridge of their nose, where also sits a set of thin-rimmed spectacles through which they peer at their customers with squinted, brown eyes.

"What can I do ya for?" the gnome asks with a big, toothy grin.

"Supplies," Dakota grunts, and starts to pull things from the shelves with the single-minded focus of one not interested in conversation.

Fair enough. Rathi will handle the charm part.

"Supplies as my strongarm here says, and perhaps some information if you're willing to share," Rathi says as she leans against the counter, which wobbles a little, so she opts to stand upright instead.

"Information? Ohhh, what kind of information?" the shopkeeper asks as they adjust their glasses and peer up at Rathi. "I know a lot about a lot of things but whether or not I know what you want to know, well, I don't know."

It becomes Rathi's turn to blink. "Err," she says. "Right. Well, what do you know about the forest around here? Anything we should worry about? Ghosts maybe?"

"Ghosts?" The gnome tips their head back and laughs, a big belly laugh. "No, no ghosts around here. What do you think we are, the Selwyn?" They laugh again. "It's just a regular forest, my dear. A bit creepy at night, I'll give you that much, but nothing out there save trees and animals."

"Dangerous animals?" Rathi asks with a tilt of her head.

The gnome chuckles. "That depends on how prepared you are. Anything can be dangerous."

"Quite true." Rathi glances over her shoulder where Dakota is quickly gathering an armload of supplies, probably more than they need, but prudent foresight. "What about this town? Anything interesting about it? Save yourself, of course."

"Aren't you a charmer." The gnome gives her a big smile. "I'm pleased to say I'm taken, but I appreciate the compliment nonetheless." They shake their head again. "This place is exactly what it appears on the surface, a brief stopover for weary travelers."

“Well, darn.” Rathi affects a pretend pout. “What about food and baths? What kind of options do you have?”

The gnome laughs and shakes a wrinkled finger at her. “You’re such a curious one, m’lady. This place isn’t so big ya can’t find that out yourself.” They tap their chin. “Only one place for baths, but for food, ya might try the Cursed Rose. It’s tastier than it sounds.”

Dakota appears and dumps an armful of items on the counter in front of the gnome. Two bottles make a break for it, but Dakota catches them with nimble fingers and sets them back into the pile.

“You, sir, like to be prepared,” the gnome says as they adjust their glasses and straighten in their stool. “All of this?”

“Someone likes to be over-prepared,” Rathi says with a laugh, though given the amount of medical supplies here, Rathi supposes she can’t blame Dakota. “Plus we have a big group. How much?”

“Hmmm.” The gnome starts picking through the selection with one hand, and counting on their fingers with the other.

“Do we really need this much?” Rathi asks as she leans in toward Dakota, looking up at him.

He glowers down at her, and on any other orc, that might have given Rathi pause. But she knows Dakota well enough that glower is his default, and he’s not actually thinking about ripping off her face.

“Better to have and not need, than need and not have,” Dakota recites like it’s a lesson he’s heard a hundred times before. Rathi knows that tone. She’s had it drilled into her, too.

“Fair enough,” Rathi says, just as the gnome snaps their thumb and says, “Fifteen gold for the lot of it!”

Rathi exchanges a glance with Dakota who shrugs and pulls a sack from his pocket, shaking it open and tugging on the drawstrings.

“That’s fine.” Rathi hands over the coin as Dakota starts to sweep their purchases into the bag with as much delicacy as he’d placed them onto the counter -- which is to say none. “Thank you…?” She leans in and raises her eyebrows.

“Oh! Dearie me, I never introduced myself, did I?” The gnome grins as they dump the coins into a box under the counter before shoving it back into the depths of the shelf. “I’m Mort, of Mort’s Minutia. Pleasure to meet you…?”

It’s Mort’s turn to lean in.

Rathi laughs and offers them her hand. “The name’s Rathi. This one’s Dakota. We’re just passing through, but who knows, we might pass through again.”

“I surely hope so. It was nice talking to you.” Mort tips their head. “If’n you need anything more, ya know where to find me.”

“We absolutely do. Thanks!”

Rathi tosses them a playful salute and heads outside, where Dakota waits for her, not one for politeness apparently. He’s got the bag slung over his shoulder and he’s staring down the road, toward the buildings clustered on either side of it. One of them has a sign swinging in the wind, a rose etched onto the weatherworn surface.

“We should go back now,” Dakota says.

“I still want a bath,” Rathi says. “And we should pick up dinner, shouldn’t we? I’ll bet Tempest would like something nice.”

Dakota twitches, but she knows she has him by mentioning Tempest. “She likes meat pies,” he rumbles as he starts down the road, making a beeline for the Cursed Rose.

Rathi chuckles and hurries to catch up to him. “You’re not as cold as you pretend to be. It’s pretty sweet how you look after Tempest.”

“She needs it. She’s reckless,” Dakota says.

“Well, I’m not arguing that.” Rathi scratches her chin and looks up at him, though his gaze is fully forward. “Do you have kids? Siblings maybe? Cause it seems like you have some experience in this.”

Dakota’s lips thin. He stops in the middle of the road and looks down at her, his eyes dark and flat. “Does it matter? I’m not home so obviously they don’t mean anything, do they?”

Whoa. Rathi feels like she’s touched a sensitive subject here.

She holds up her hand and dances a few steps to the side and away from Dakota. “Guess I stepped in it. My bad. It was just an innocent question between friends.” She dances back another step, closer to the Cursed Rose. “Look, I’ve got an older brother I’m looking for, so I understand family complications, okay? Otherwise, forget I asked.”

Something in Dakota’s face softens. “He’s missing?”

“More like he left and didn’t tell us where he was going, and I don’t think he wanted to be followed either, but I’ve never been too good at listening to him.” Rathi playfully knocks herself on the head. “I’d just like to see if he’s okay before I get stuck at home.”

“Family is complicated,” Dakota says, and he takes in a deep breath, his shoulders sinking down. “My brother’s name was Mathias.”

Was?

Every inch of Rathi itches to ask for clarification, but she doesn’t want to push. Not when she senses Dakota’s opening up to her about something he’d usually never discuss. She’d been taught tact, after all. She knows how to play the long game.

“Eryen,” Rathi says. “He doesn’t look much like me. He takes after Mother more. I haven’t bothered asking if anyone’s seen him because he always was good at illusions.” She sighs and scrapes her hand through her hair, scratching her scalp. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Dakota nods slowly. “Then we’ll help.”

Rathi wrinkles her nose. “This is Tyrael’s quest. I’ll leave if I think I’ll find Eryen in another direction, but I don’t think--”

“We’ll help,” Dakota says, and starts moving again, toward the Cursed Rose. “Tyrael will agree if he knows what’s good for him. Family is important.”

Rathi smiles to herself and catches up to Dakota, falling into step beside him. “Thank you.”

He grunts, and she takes it as ‘you’re welcome’.

“I think that makes us friends now,” Rathi says as she darts ahead of him to push open the door to the Cursed Rose, the scent of spiced meats and butter floating out to her nose.

Dakota rolls his eyes, but the corner of his lips lift around his tusks. “Sure.”

Rathi grins. They might have gotten beat to hell, and barely limped here, but at least one good thing came out of it.

“Now let’s go get our friends some dinner,” she says, and follows him into the Cursed Rose.

***