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Aramis really hated being alone. |
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It had always been a problem for him. Sure, he never really got along well with others, and he understood it was his own fault. But Aramis really hated being alone. The thought absolutely terrified him. The idea of possibly taking in his last breath without someone near by, whether it be a friend, a priest, or even a total stranger, shook him to the very foundation of his being. He craved constant companionship at every moment of every day. From sunup to sundown, he needed people around him, even if they ignored him completely. And when the sun finally set, he dreaded sleeping in a bed that didn't have another warm body occupying it. Hell, even a cold body would suffice, if he became desperate enough. When Aramis was alone, he got to thinking about things he'd pushed into the back of his mind. When Aramis was alone, memories that he fought to suppress somehow clawed their way into the forefront of his consciousness. When Aramis was alone, every single fear and insecurity he'd ever had seemed to hoover just above his head, ready to swoop down and crush his skull if he even dared to look up.
Perhaps this is why he took a young, naive, homeless girl as his new traveling companion. She didn't give him her full name; she only called herself Bre, and he was just fine with that. She was a nice enough girl, with large, bright sapphire eyes and long, flowing, golden hair that reminded him of corn tassel from the fields where he grew up. She was tall and lanky, her forehead reaching all the way up to his shoulder, her knobby elbows and knees giving her a certain clumsy charm. He knew she was just a kid; couldn't be a day older than seventeen. And they had met in the strangest way...
Aramis has no qualms about being a thief. He steals only what he needs to get by for the day and, maybe, line his pockets for a little gold to spend on liquor and a room at a local inn. And so, naturally, he gravitates towards large crowds and marketplaces, where a stray hand could only be caught by the sharpest merchant, if and when the vendors weren't haggling. And so, earlier that day, as Aramis had his blue eye fixed upon a rather handsome Galaronian dagger, he was more than surprised to find that, in a heartbeat, the thing had been snatched from his view. He couldn't believe it; a thief with faster hands than his own? It couldn't be! Scanning the crowd for a suspicious face, he instantly found what he was looking for: the large, doe-like eyes of a young woman met his only momentarily before turning away and hurrying to get lost in the massive throng of people. Instantly, he gave chase.
The girl, it seems, was adept at escaping as well.
They weaved through the crowd, ducking stray arms and hopping over fallen merchandise, going this way and that until he caught a faint flash of gold headed for the town's border. If there was one thing the girl had plenty of, it was endurance. He chased her across the hilly emereald plains outside of Galaron for a little over half an hour before finally giving into exhaustion and doubling over, placing his hands on his thighs and panting heavily. The girl, who had noticed the steady pounding of Aramis' feet had instantly ceased, slowed to a jog just long enough to turn around and look over her shoulder at him. It was then that she ran straight into a road sign, the pain of impact sending her flat on her back. Complete and total silence. But only after a moment's peace, Aramis' laughter could be heard ringing through the nearby woods, sending scores of birds into frantic flight and causing many a small rodent to scamper. Still laughing merrily, Aramis walked over to the girl and helped her to her feet. They became fast friends.
Bre, it seems, was the perfect remedy for Aramis' paralyzing fear of loneliness and silence.
The girl was a natural-born talker, chittering on joyfully about one thing or another, and all he ever had to do to keep her going was give a monosyllabic, one-word response. Sure, she had expressed protest about his smoking and drinking habits, but he'd decided that, until the occasion seriously called for one, he really didn't need anything of the sort. Besides... This Bre girl was one of the best traveling companions he'd ever taken. She wasn't a sulking, middle-aged renegade with a shady past and half a brain, she was young, exceptionally bright, with quick hands and an even quicker wit. Yes... she'd make a good partner-in-crime...
"What are you smiling at?" she asked, breaking her current topic with that sudden interjection.
Aramis didn't even realize he was smiling. As far as he knew, they were just walking along the dusty dirt road towards Villimaroon. "Oh, uh... nothing, sorry; lost in thought," he muttered, shaking his head and staring off into the distance. A small, knowing smirk crept onto Bre's lips. "Sure, sure," she smiled. "I'll get it outta ya, one way or another. But anyway, back to what I was saying before..."
Aramis knew that he'd never have another day of peace and quiet in his entire life as long as he kept Bre around.
And he was perfectly fine with that.
 Bleeding Apocalypse · Wed May 04, 2005 @ 04:03am · 1 Comments |
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