Ranger-Captain Moriurya Brightsinger

No Longer Co-Workers

(( Another post from 2012. Rya returned to the Farstriders after leaving ATS and, months later, ran into a few of her ex-coworkers at a club. ))

Gil’s eyes.

I cannot help but think about his eyes. So calm, so collected, so sad, so begging … those are his eyes. My skin prickled as I felt him watching me on the dance floor. He made a few jokes, teasing me with his playful mannerisms. I wonder if he even realizes it is Rya with the short cropped hair and the form-fitted leather. Playful, inviting, alluring. It is a wonder I had not seen the charms of the half-elf sooner.

We shared a campfire after the club closed for the night.I had left before the music stopped, urgently called away on a topic that needed to be spoken about personally with the Ranger-Lord. The attractive high-ranking Farstrider could send chills down my spine if only he speak to me in a non-professional manner. The conversation under the tree ended only moments before I received a private message on my newest and more durable communicator.

It was Gil.

He had fallen off the dock to the barge and fell into the water and now was soaked through with a quilt wrapped around him sitting in the open breeze. As a First Sergeant I have become used to the Rangers needing to be saved and taken care of at desperate physical or emotional times, but this was Gil, this was the man who played a major part in having me fired, a man who flirted so casually in the club. It was different, but I still went to him as quickly as I could.

We found a place in the hills where the winds from the sea did not reach easily and I set up a fire rather quickly. That I used a slight bit of arcane energy in the form of a spark to help create the flame, I will tell no one. I only hope he did not notice. Most likely not since he was already pouring the water from his boots. When I noticed his quilt was rather soaked already, I gave him my cloak and turned away so he could strip of his soaked pants. I guess he didn’t have a change of clothing where he found the quilt … or he was too drunk to think about it.

So, there we were, him looking toward me and I looking at a rocky hill face. I wasn’t going to turn around only out of respect for him and his wife, though I blushed at the thought of it. We chatted quietly about recent events, about his wish for his wife to return from her travels. I understood that feeling of abandonment, of loving someone just to not have them near when you want or need them. He complimented me, saying that I am such a wonderful woman, explaining that it was surprising I had not found someone just right yet, that I was not swept off my feet. I did not mention Isardeth … I do not know what Isar and I are.

I briefly explained why, and he listened in sadness.

I told him about how Meirrahim was my childhood friend and my first kiss; I mentioned how Meirrahim was so addicted to energy now that he only comes by for a moment before running off for his next fix.

I told him about how Luminash was my second crush and how him and I were such good friends; I mentioned how he was married now and that he does not even respond to my letters now.

I told him about how Jasper was the makings of something serious and that we were the dream-team; I mentioned how he was only using my emotions to create a fake relationship so the world would not know he was gay.

I told him about how Anandor and I had become close and how we were a strange but good team; I mentioned how he went insane, created the revolt, and in the end either was killed or put into an asylum.

I didn’t mention Elenicius and his obsession of stalking me, or his idea that he was the best thing that could come to a woman. I didn’t mention Rhymor and his proposal to me, or how he suddenly vanished and now doesn’t even acknowledge my existence. I didn’t mention Delamontre and his attempt to win my heart, or his connection to House V.

The conversation was maybe an hour, but my mind could play through every moment and make it seem like a whole night. Gil returned his pants to his legs and touched my arm. Those eyes, sadness, pain, and wishful thoughts … I wanted to throw my arms around him and touch my lips to his.

I didn’t.

We stood by the fire, knowing we had better get going, yet we lingered to look at one another again. He came so close to me, stood so I could feel his breath coming down to my nose. Those lips were right there, yet I politely smiled as he fought his attraction to my leather-clad body. He stepped away, and I continued to show my respect for his wishes and for his wife.

But then, so suddenly, he was there hugging me, holding my body tightly to his own. Damn this leather being between us. I bit my bottom lip lightly, resisting every urge I had. When he pulled away, I kissed my hand and put it to his cheek.

He flew away.