That was certainly useful, but it was a tool, a device like anything he made, a way to get things done. Women? Tor knew that he certainly liked them and he could feel how alluring the whole system that the nobles had could be. Not that being a part of that would really get him any attention from the ladies. Maybe. But that was something he’d given up on already, a long time before. Anything he found himself falling into now was a gift in that department.
His family?
Yeah, he cared about them. The other people in Two Bends too. His friends. Those were the important things. The rest was nice maybe, but those things, his family and his friends, that’s what he was really about. Then maybe… helping people, even if he didn’t know them?
There were, he reflected as he hobbled towards home, worse things that he could be, than a person that worked to help other people. For a while there, after Trice, he’d lost that. That sense that it wasn’t just OK, and not stupid to care about other people, but good.
Was it all right for him to not hate Trice now then?
She’d hurt his feelings, but if she’d really done it to try and find the person or people that had tried to kill him and even now was in danger, trying to do the same thing to help her own parents and maybe even help him, did that matter? Did his feelings matter past trying his best to love people and be a good person? Nothing good had ever really come of his being a jerk. Death weapons, threats and… no, that was about it. Maybe some pain for other people. Disappointment.
It occurred to him then, as he walked, that the last person he’d fought with back there had been really familiar. After thinking for a few seconds he got it, the sense of presence clicking into place between one breath and the next.
Trice.
Face mask or no, he recognized the body, the fighting style. The way she’d scooted under him as if trying to be provocative, even though he always ignored that kind of thing. It kind of surprised him that it had taken him that long to realize it. Heh. Interesting. A bit slow of him.
“So, um, did anyone else notice that Trice was back there?” Tor asked, not really concerned. If Patricia Morgan wanted to be there, then she could be. If she wanted to be friends, he would, and if she wanted to kill him that badly for some reason… he’d let her.
He’d trusted Wensa enough that he let her have an open and free chance to kill him and she declined. Did he really trust Trice any less? An hour ago the answer would have been a simple yes, now… It felt more complicated for some reason, and less. She was his friend, even if he wasn’t hers. That was all. From now on he was going to remember that. It was, simply put, who he wanted to be, if he got to pick at all. A person that was there for other people, no matter what.
He chuckled a bit as everyone stopped to stare at him.
“Well, it would normally make sending that box to her easier, but I guess it has to go through channels still. It probably wouldn’t look good to the Wards or whoever if she came back with a box of goodies and love notes from her friend Tor’s house, would it? “Oh, my yes, I hate him so, but look at the prezzies!” I don’t think anyone would fall for that.”
Sara looked straight ahead and started walking again, but Rolph just shrugged.
“Yeah, um, she’s been here for a while, off and on. It’s where she’s been staying for the last few week, hiding as one of the prostitutes. The idea is that she works her away around and tries to kill you again I think, except that at the same time, instead of just being all industrious like your little friend Sorlee, my cousin has actually been using this as a base to take down the Wards, and the people behind them. So, the Wards don’t really know she’s here, I don’t think, but she kind of has a cover if they find out. ”
Tor walked too. Ah.
“Well, I guess that makes sense. I take it she isn’t really planning on killing me? I mean if she’s been here for weeks, well, if that was the plan, I probably wouldn’t have woken up from making those rivers for Afrak, right? You were there to take care of me, sure, but people have to go to the restroom, take walks that kind of thing. It’s the middle of the compound, or close enough, we have a good wall at least, but someone already inside wouldn’t just be able to walk into the hut.”
They all agreed that she wasn’t there to kill him, not really at least.
Kill him… It spurred an idea of sorts, that kind that niggled and wiggled in the brain, but wouldn’t come out yet. Forcing it wouldn’t work, he knew, but that was all right. It would come, ideas always did.
They were good that way.
Ursala laughed. It wasn’t, he saw, directed at him at all, but at Sara, who still walked stiffly. And slightly ahead of them. She had a cute butt, Tor noticed. No wonder Rolph always let her lead when they walked places instead of forcing his way to the front like his position warranted. Then again, it might be less prurient. Maybe he just wasn’t a jerk? He wasn’t perfect all the time, but Tor couldn’t cast stones there, Rolph was, Tor’s family included, the best person that Tor had ever met. Ursala had kind of a cute behind too, he noticed as she closed with the other girl, who obviously thought that something bad was about to happen, from the hunched shouldered position she’d taken.
“So, Sara… Tor couldn’t handle his ex-being here? He’d freak out, maybe go all violent? Blow up the whole world? He seems to be all right so far, like a certain Countess mentioned three weeks ago…”
He couldn’t help but laugh then.
It was…well, not funny, but strange. Like a heavy weight had lifted from him when he just decided that Trice was his friend, no matter what. Even if she hated him. He tried to explain, but he didn’t think anyone else got it, the concept was a strange one, Tor knew. Finally Rolph walked over and matched his pace, which was normally way too slow for the huge man.
“You’re saying that you just decided that she’s your friend again, even if she doesn’t feel the same way? Even if it’s naive and stupid? That’s just the way it is now?”
“Yes. Pretty much.”
“Alright then.” The Prince said, looking at him sideways. The tone sounded like he simply accepted it at least.
“So, you really don’t get why you might give a guy a complex?”
“Nope. After all, look how long it took me to realize all this. Months. I’m surprised you didn’t all kick me out a long time ago. I haven’t exactly been nice to be around, I know. I’ll… work on that, all right? More smiling, less pouting and a little less going on about how no woman will ever have me or me being an evil troll. A retu. I’m still a tiny bit hurt by the whole Galasia thing though. I mean. All I’ve ever done is help them and well… you know.” Tor held his fingers apart about a sixteenth of an inch to demonstrate what he meant by a retu, but apparently it was a common measurement everywhere, because no one seemed surprised by the term.
They all agreed that it sounded like a good plan, him not being a mopey jerk, but Sara still looked nervous for some reason. Again like she was mad at him, or scared. Well, he couldn’t fix it if he didn’t know, so finally, walking along side of her, he asked. She flushed, but didn’t say anything for a long time.
“You don’t have to say anything Sara, but I’m your friend too. Even if you secretly hate me and have agreed to kill me. Or if you like me just as a brother, or something like that. No strings attached or anything. Not even if your family can’t ever pay the golds they agreed to, or doesn’t want to do business with me anymore.” That, he felt, should have covered most of what she could be worried about.
OK, that wasn’t true.
She could have worried over a million things that he’d never have thought of. Like, what if he had body odor? Or bad breath. Well, if she told him that, he’d do his best to fix it, that was all. He tried to on top of that stuff, daily bathing and twice daily tooth and mouth care. Or maybe she didn’t like beards? It made him look older, but if she didn’t like it, it would be gone.