"I had a...family, once," she said, looking towards the horizon. "Friends, maybe. I don't know. I trusted them. Then, one day, they...were taken from me, and ever since then, I've been just as stupid as you."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
He looked over at her out of the corner of his eye.
"I... I lost everything too. Most of it was my fault," he said, trying in vain to figure out a better way to conclude the thought, but instead it was just left hanging in the air as is.
"If it wasn't our fault...well, we probably wouldn't be making such terrible decisions, would we?" she asked quietly. "Sometimes...sometimes I wonder if things would be better if I'd just...try again. But then...I look back...and I can't do that to anyone else." She paused and looked down at her hands, shaking her head a little. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this. Gods, I met you trying to kill your friend..." she scoffed and entwined her fingers. "What even is this, James?"
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James had to stop himself as his heart nearly jumped into his throat at the question. Surely, surely she wasn't asking that. Amy and Ari were getting him. She wasn't asking about them. If she was, she would've asked 'what are we' not what is this. They'd only known each other for, what? Two weeks? At most? And in that time they'd fought against each other and alongside each other, but hardly really getting to know the other in the way the Amy squeaking ideas in the corner of his mind was insinuating.
Why was he spending time rationalizing it away anyways? She was asking a real question.
And that was when he realized that the both of them were being too vague for him to give a real, substantial response to at least half of what she'd said. He couldn't assure her that things wouldn't happen again if he didn't even know what those things were, and besides; they probably were likely to happen again. Bad things happened all the time, but you just kept going anyways.
He took in a slow breath and let out a long sigh. He was overthinking everything, and most of it didn't directly answer her question.
"It's life, for us. People become friends in stranger ways, and out here - where all law and morals exist in one, big grey area, who the hell knows. For all we know, this is normal for more than just us. Trying to kill each other one moment and finding yourselves friends the next. I mean, sure. It's odd. I'm not mad for it, though. I'm-I'm-" he stuttered to a stop and sighed, before continuing.
"I mean, I'm glad you're talking about it. Or- just- stuff. That's why we-you-er-I came..." he closed his eyes and groaned, shaking his head at his mess of a sentence. "That's what I was asking about in the first place," he said quickly, with words almost mushing together. "To talk. Here we are. Doing it."
She was silent for a moment as she tried to make sense of the rambling mess of an answer he'd just given, and when she failed, she couldn't help but utter a snort of laughter and shake her head. "I don't know what that means, and I'm fairly certain you don't, either," she said, amused. "But yes, I suppose that is life, and that I've had worse conversation than you."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James turned to look at her with a strained smile, and found himself letting out a nervous “Haa.” The moment it escaped his mouth, and his eyes met hers, he flushed slightly, and looked away.
“That’s impressive,” he said, probably faster than felt natural. “Considering most people tell me I’m a terrible conversationalist.”
She studied him for a moment before turning her gaze away once more. "Yeah, well, most people won't talk to me after I ask them if they've murdered someone for the hell of it, so, you know. Stickers points."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
Tasha chuckled and laid back in the duff, searching the sky through the canopy. A part of her wondered idly why James still stuck with her. They'd known each other for all of two weeks, and...well. He had strong morals. A nobility. She was anything but honorable: she killed in cold blood for money, and she did it because some part of her liked it. Why hadn't he been scared off yet?
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James remained sitting, but matched her upward gaze towards the stars. He figured when Tasha was ready to go back, she’d get up and go. And when that happened, he’d move. Amy and Ari were waiting for them, but there really was no rush to get back. He was content with tracing the stars in his mind for a while.
"James..." she hesitated, unsure if she wanted to continue on this thread, but recognizing that if she wanted to stay, she had to know the answer. "Why...why in the gods' names do you...stick with me? After...everything? You...you're a decent human being, despite the fact you're a fugitive, and I'm... a monster that kills people for money. I don't...understand."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James blinked, and then slowly turned his head, and then his body, to look down at her as she laid on the ground. “You’re a decent human being too,” he said plainly. “You have a conscious that you’re listening to. You’re trying, and that’s more than I can say about most of the people I’ve grown to know in the Outlands. You may not know where you’re headed, and that’s fine, but I have confidence that you’ll find your way, even if you don’t. That itself puts me at ease. That, and I don’t have the heart to kick you out,” he added with a small smirk. “You’re not bad company, and you don’t deserve that.”
"Things out here...they just get so twisted, you know? I guess it's been so long..." she sighed, shaking her head a little. "I don't know what's what anymore. How...how do you even...have faith in people? O-or know what's right and what's wrong? Any of it?"
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James’s smirk faded, and he looked out to the creek. He thought of his father. He thought of her. He thought of his mom.
“I’ve had people who believed in me,” he said softly. “And a... a father who taught me what was right. When I wander I just point myself back to him. I ask him what he would’ve said. Though... though he was only a man, like myself, and flawed in ways I probably never knew... I just try to live in a way that would make him...”
He paused, wishing he had said something different. Something that didn’t mean so much, for fear that she would dismiss it.
A father. She'd never known her own, but the one person who'd been that to her...Kolvar. The only difference between her and James was that James turned to what he'd learned for a conscience, even if he'd lost him, and Tasha sought revenge.
"I had someone like that, once," she murmured. "He's the only reason I'm not dead in a ditch, executed, or in prison by now. Only...somehow I don't think he'd really approve of where I am now, where the man you speak of...well, I can't see him being anything but proud."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
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