Moving Forward
Set after the eventual future scuffle in which Darrington proves himself to be a valuable addition to the team. LOOK I AM GRIEVING IN MY OWN WAY LET ME HAVE THIS
She plops down next to him, quivering in his freshly-sullied armor, fixing her braid and brushing debris out of it as he stares, dazed, at the bodies that lie before them.
“It was never like this when I--when we--I mean--”
“When you paid innocent men to get slaughtered so you could kill monsters to get your rocks off?” Vex’s voice is icy, as always when directing any words at all to this flippant memoir-writing dickwad.
He lowers his head. “I didn’t think--” “No. You didn’t.” Vex lets out a huff. “You thought this was going to be a shot at glory. Guess what, Darrington? Lives are on the line. Lives of people with families. People who matter. People who you can lose forever if you make one mistake.”
There is a pregnant pause. “I’m sorry,” He murmurs. “I didn’t. . . I’m sorry.”
More silence.
Vex glances over at the man, once full of bravado, rattled and broken beside her. It’s pathetic. She should leave him like that, let him marinate in his own misery, go crying home to whatever palace is filled with servants to soothe his aching wounds . . .
She sighs and grits her teeth, glancing down at the word carved into Fenthras.
Forgiveness.
“Well,” she finally begins, tone brightening a bit. “You can apologize by smoothing out that last shot I got in when Doty writes this all down. Make it sound cool. Maybe I hit him in the bollocks instead of grazing his shoulder.” She glances over to read Terrion’s reaction.
He gives a shaky laugh. “I mean I value my journalistic integrity above all else--but I think I could make an exception.”
They both smile. Silence fills the space between them again.
It is Vex, once again, who breaks the silence. “Terry?” “Yes?” “What’s your mother’s name?”
