milliways_bar | (no subject)

He blinks, looks at her, looks to himself, and seems to work out height according to feet. When he's done, he looks at her again.

"That's...really tall."

"Not for a giant."

She points out cheerfully. She's very, very carefully not thinking of the gods.

He shrugs.

"I don't know how tall they get. I've never seen one. Do they like to drink, because if they don't that's probably why. I live in a tavern."

"Oh, yes. But I may not be from the same world as you. So."

She shrugs,

"And I can only go by what my mother has told me. I've never seen any of my giant relatives."

"Cause they couldn't all fit in the room?"

"No. Because we had to hide. The other gods...well, when they found out that my brothers and I existed..."

She trails off, and holds her left hand with her right one until the knuckles on her right hand turn white. Her voice, however, when she starts talking again is steady;

"It was a very long fall."

He nods...and then he reaches out to the hand with the glove on it and pats it gently.

"I'm sorry. I don't like falling either and the long ones hurt a lot and I'm sorry you fell because you're really nice."

She offers a slight smile. Her hand feels wrong; as though just bones sit inside the glove.

"It was a very, very long fall. Months, I think. Its a good thing I don't eat often."

"That must have hurt a lot."

And he looks sad.

"It did."

Gently, because she doesn't want to cry.

"I miss my mother, and my family."

He nods.

"I miss my Ma. I always thought I wouldn't but I do because she's not here and she's supposed to be and I don't know what I'm doing here and you're very nice but I'm a little scared because she's not here and she's always been here and I don't have any money and I don't know anyone and I don't want to get in trouble but I'm tired and I want to sleep and I can't because I don't have a room here."

And he looks pretty close to crying actually.

"Have you tried the door out yet?"

Start with number one, then,

"If it won't let you go home, I will make sure you have some place to sleep."

He blinks, gets a mildly-aggravated-with-himself look on his face, and turns back...and blinks again.

"Where'd the door go?"

"Oh."

She says after a moment. She's not going to take him with her...no clue where they'd end up. She pulls several heavy gold pieces out of her pouch,

"Set this on the bar and ask for a room....it should give you a key."

He. Blinks.

"That's gold."

"Well. Yes?"

So is the stuff around her neck, and the pins holding her tabard together, and the things around her wrists, and the clasp of her belt....

He staaaaaares.

"But that's gold! I don't...you can't give me gold. You don't give someone like me gold! It's gold!"

She frowns, and shoves it at him,

"Well I don't have anything else."

He stares.

"I wish I were you if that's all I'd have. I've never seen so much gold in all my life."

Ever so long, that.

"That's...that's a lot of gold."

She can't help it. She drops the gold on the table and turns her face toward him,

"No, you don't."

And now she's just waiting for him to run away without the money. Because she really is horrible to look at.

And he blinks and reaches out to run a hand along her face.

"Does that hurt?"

"Only when I breathe."

Which, y'know, sometimes she doesn't.

He nods.

"That's like my leg. It only hurts when I put weight on it. Or when I've done a lot of work or walking or running or the other boys have beat me up because my mother's a whore or something."

He doesn't move his hand.

"Does this hurt?"

"No, 'Po. It doesn't hurt to have you touch me."

She's careful, though, not moving at all. Her skin is cool, and feels like good leather.

"My leg hurts when I stand on it, and my hand when I use it, and my face hurts when I talk...but it doesn't hurt to be touched."

"Bet you sit a lot then and don't talk much."

He looks at her carefully.

"I didn't think anybody could hurt that much."

And he doesn't say it again, but another apology of sympathy is in there.