Deep in the night, in one of the rooms at the Pony, Taraborn lay awake in the dark. A warm, soft body is curled up against him, her coppery hair splayed across his chest and her breath light and faint. Narys’ presence would normally be enough to help him sleep almost instantly, especially after the rigorous fun they had had not long ago. But not tonight. Tonight, he lay awake, his mind contemplating life and what he wanted from it.
The other day, alongside his comrades of the Bloody Dawn, Taraborn had been part of an assassination contract. They had snuck up into the mansion, then charged inside, killing the guards and their target. It had gone well, only a couple of minor injuries, but the man was dead and they had been paid. The question he was now asking himself, was if it had been enough. After they had killed all they needed too, they had gone about looting, Taraborn piling loot onto his horse till it could take no more if he wanted to ride home. When they returned, all the loot had been handed to the Captain and they had been paid their share of the job and loot. Taraborn would have been better if he had just kept the loot, let alone the pay of the job.
He had returned to Narys, and of the couple of items he had stashed away and kept for himself, he gifted her a silver pendant, with a vibrant blue gemstone. The look on her face when he had given it to her had been beautiful. She was so happy, loving, and surprised. He wanted to make her look like that again, which was a new feeling, along with the rest that came with what he was guessing was love. The next day, earlier that evening, they had seen Taala purchase a dagger from a Dwarf, costing ninety silver. For any other blade that would have been extortionate, but this was a thing of beauty, if only for its sheer functionality and the craftsmanship that created it. Narys had been wide eyed, like a child at a sweet shop. Even Taraborn, with his own blade tucked into his belt quite fancied one himself. With the loot he had taken from that mansion they could’ve had one each at the very least.
He shifts a little, eliciting a sleepy moan of complaint from Narys who promptly tightens her grip around him, and returns to a deep slumber. A small smile crosses his lips at this, and he goes on thinking.
Of course, the Dawn had done good by him during his time there. He had fast friends in Eroforth and Taala, and got on well with the rest. They had helped him when Hellrien and he had been captured by Brigands, and when he had escaped and asked for their aid they came without hesitation. He recalled all the times drinking, or when they had saved one another from injury or death. He recalled how they had given him a home when he first arrived in Bree, and how he had been there since. For sure they would always be his friends, but now, he could earn more going solo.
So, he decided, I will run this by Narys tomorrow, and then I will go to Taala. She deserves the explanation most out of them all. With his mind made up, Taraborn fell asleep just as the first rays of pale spring light peek through the shutters of their room.
*****
Having received the go ahead from Narys, he made his way to the Dawn Hall, hoping to find his friend there. He dismounts, leaving his horse at the stables with plenty of water and hay should the conversation last for a while, and heads inside. To his luck, and a little to his disappointment, Taala was indeed there, just coming down from the office when he enters the Hall. Somehow, she read his mind. “Looking for me handsome? … Of course, you are!” She calls over to him with a chuckle.
At least she was in a good mood. He puts on his trade mark smirk, “Course I am!” He responds as he strides towards her, “Need t’ chat.”
Grinning, Taala responds with her usual wit, “How dull, I thought you were after a rut… time you knew how a real woman felt.”
“I wouldn’t say no.” He answers with a wink. Despite the banter and outrageous flirting, nothing would ever happen between these two fast friends, not unless some unforeseeable tragedy befell them both and they were parted from their loved ones.
As Taala put it herself, “I was just saying to Dagramir, you and he were the two that got away.” She had said it before, and said it now. Taraborn smiled slightly. He had only met the other man a couple of times, most recently on the assassination contract where they had been tasked with checking guards were dead after they were felled by arrows. He had seemed a good enough man to Taraborn, if not quite like himself. Perhaps that was why they were both the ones that got away from Taala.
After a lot more playful banter, they head up to the office with a drink each, where they sit across from each other at the desk. A conversation continues, talking about some event or other in the Pony, that Taraborn is only half able to pay attention to, his mind trying to figure out what to say to her. Eventually, he gulps down some cider to wet his throat and blurts it out. “I’m going t’ leave the Dawn.”
Taala had dipped her finger in her mead to taste it, and now looked at him wide eyed, her finger still in her mouth. Slowly, she removes her finger, and sets her mug down her eyes not leaving him. “Are you not happy here?” This was what he had been dreading, disappointing such a close friend. He only hoped he could explain his reasoning so she would understand.
Fortunately, she understood. “Coin is as good a reason as any to move on.” She answers after he explains, and they go on to discussing his future. She genuinely seemed concerned for him, and wanted the best for him, which he was glad for as their friendship would not be affected by this decision. Their conversation goes on to where he would go, and what work he would take, whether he would be in competition with the Dawn for work or not, and whether he might work with them in the future. It all seemed a little surreal, he had spent a long time with the Dawn, and been to some places he doubted he would ever see again. It would be odd to not be with them, but he would be better off for it in the long run.
“I wish you well, I’ll miss you, you damned rogue.” She says softly, looking down to hide misty eyes.
He chuckles a little sadly, “An’ I’ll miss you to lass.” He responds quietly, trying to hide the emotions he was feeling at this parting.
Taala’s voice hardens, but it’s forced and quavers a little, “Go on, get the fuck out of here, afore I change my mind and eliminate the competition.”
He smirks, standing up, “I’d like t’ see ya try.” He answers with an equally forced cockiness. Taala stands and walks around the table, pulling him into a tight embrace, which he returns. He knows that they will remain friends, and will see each other in the Pony, but it still feels like a good bye. “Thanks fer the fun times wit’ the Dawn.” He whispers to her as they hug, holding onto each other tightly.
Taala whispers back, “She better be fuckin’ worth it.” Pulling away from the embrace a little, she reaches up and gives him a chaste, but meaningful kiss.
He returns the brief kiss, and pulls away from her. With a failed attempt at a parting joke, he leaves heading out of the office and feeling her eyes on his back as he refuses to look back.
Standing in the fresh air outside the Dawn Hall, Taraborn takes in a deep breath of air and tries to clear his head. Where to go and what to do? He was his own man now, able to take contracts at will and keep all the coin from them. Nothing genius comes to mind. To the Prancing Pony it was.
