Drusilia Nailo
First Post
Dru was not a very good patient. It wasn't part of her nature to lie abed all day, but the poison had left her body weakened, so she had no choice. Papa had brought her stacks of reading material: primarily elven histories. As interesting as the history of a race of an inherently magical people could be, Dru was getting restless, and was frustrated that she couldn't get up.
So when someone knocked at her bedroom door quietly, she looked up with unfeigned eagerness. "Come in," she said.
Kilat shambled in. "Hi," he said, clearly ill at ease.
Kilat hadn't spoken to or had anything to do with her since she had killed the human at Swagfest. Doing her best to mask her surprise, she nodded at him coldly. "Kilat."
He moved closer into the room, and pulled up a chair next to the bed. "I heard that you weren't feeling well," he said, eyes downcast. "And thought that I would stop by."
Dru sighed, and leaned back against her pillow, closing her eyes. "Not feeling well can't begin to describe it," she said ruefully. "Did you hear about how I got this way?"
Kilat frowned. "Poison, I heard. Kennic told me about it, or at least, a little bit."
"Mmm. Then you know that I nearly died."
He was silent for a moment, and then said, "Yes."
She looked up at him, holding his gaze for a long moment. "I didn't realize that you cared."
"Dru! That's not fair! Of course I care if you live or die... I just don't..." He trailed off, frustrated. "I don't like the life that you lead, Dru. You know that. Seeing you standing over that man, gloating that you'd killed him..." He stopped again, shaking his head.
Dru scowled at him, hating him for being here when she was too weak to try to throttle him. "No, you're the one that's not being fair," she growled. "When will you understand that I don't have the option of being peaceful?"
"There's always a choice," he said stiffly.
Dru narrowed her eyes, watching him. "Yes? Are you absolutely certain about that?"
He looked uncomfortable. "Look, I know that you are what you are because you've been brought up that way. Can't you leave?"
Dru stared at him. "You're joking. Leave Papa? Kilat, he's the only family that I have. What would I do? It's not like I've learned any trade besides fighting."
Kilat looked down at his hands, which were fidgeting in his lap. "Dru, it's not good for you to be here." His gaze moved to the scars that criscrossed her arms. "I have an idea of how you got those. That's not... normal."
"No?" Dru leaned forward shakily, pulling the sheet up over her bare shoulders. "And where would I be if Papa hadn't trained me to keep going, even while in pain? Probably floating face down in the harbor. Because that man that you saw me kill? He would have killed me. Instead of being able to judge me, you'd have been attending my funeral, Kilat. Maybe, since you were my friend, Papa would have let you be there when he lit the pyre."
He blanched. "Dru. You need to get out of here. You're going to die anyway, if you live like this."
"Kilat," said Dru leadenly. "We had best stop this discussion right now. What you're trying to get me to do is not only unthinkable, it just won't work." She stared at him until he finally nodded, looking back down at his hands.
"I'm sorry to hear that you've been so sick," he said finally. "I knew that you'd be climbing the walls." He glanced over at the elven histories and smirked a bit, but he looked so very unhappy.
Dru leaned back against her pillow. "Yes, when I'm actually able to stay conscious." She watched her former best friend surreptiously, and felt like she was in the room with a stranger. "Kilat?"
He shook his head, angrily. "Your papa is an evil man, Dru. He's going to make you evil."
"Kilat!" Dru shouted, making him jump. "What in all the h***s is wrong with you today? You've known Papa for over fifty years, and you've never been this unkind to him. He's my Papa, Kilat. What makes you think that I want to hear you talk him down like that?" She sagged, head spinning from the exertion of yelling at him.
He jumped up, and started pacing the room. "I've been doing a lot of thinking, Dru. Ever since you killed that man. I've been talking over a lot of it with a new friend of mine."
Dru felt like she'd been slapped. "A new friend of yours. And this new friend is the one that's talking bad about Papa?"
He hesitated, and then nodded. "She's a priestess of the hearth goddess," he offered by way of explanation.
Dru noted the "she" with no small amount of bitterness. "The hearth goddess, Kilat? No wonder she doesn't approve of Papa. And no telling what kind of stories that you've started circulating around the city about him by now. Why did you have to meddle?"
"Dru," sighed Kilat, pressing his forehead against the wall. "Do you really want to know?"
"Yes, I asked, didn't I?"
He was silent for so long that she didn't think that he was going to answer her. "Because I love you, Dru. I don't want to see you hurt. And I think he's hurting you."
Dru blinked several times, and wondered why she didn't feel anything besides mild surprise at his admission. "You... love me?"
He looked at her, and only then did she notice that his eyes were red-rimmed. "Yes, the gods help me, I do."
Dru closed her eyes. Now she felt something, and it was pain at knowing that she was going to have to hurt her friend like this. "Kilat," she said finally, opening her eyes again. "You can't love me."
"Why not?"
She swallowed. "Because, Kilat. I have things planned for me, and none of them involve being married to you ... I'm sorry."
"What you really mean to say," he said bitterly, "Is that I can't love you because you don't love me."
"Right," Dru said, hating herself. "Kilat, up until Swagfest, you were my best friend. I might have considered what you were saying back then, if you'd said something. But not now. I saw the way that you reacted that night... and are still reacting, and I don't think that you can handle me the way that I am. I don't think that you love me at all. I think that you love some version of me that only exists between those ears of yours."
Kilat sunk to the ground, sitting down hard. He looked stricken. "You don't love me. You're not going to leave with me," he said slowly.
Dru closed her eyes, and shook her head. "No." When she opened her eyes again, he was gone. She stared hard at the door for a long time, one tear trailing down her cheek.
So when someone knocked at her bedroom door quietly, she looked up with unfeigned eagerness. "Come in," she said.
Kilat shambled in. "Hi," he said, clearly ill at ease.
Kilat hadn't spoken to or had anything to do with her since she had killed the human at Swagfest. Doing her best to mask her surprise, she nodded at him coldly. "Kilat."
He moved closer into the room, and pulled up a chair next to the bed. "I heard that you weren't feeling well," he said, eyes downcast. "And thought that I would stop by."
Dru sighed, and leaned back against her pillow, closing her eyes. "Not feeling well can't begin to describe it," she said ruefully. "Did you hear about how I got this way?"
Kilat frowned. "Poison, I heard. Kennic told me about it, or at least, a little bit."
"Mmm. Then you know that I nearly died."
He was silent for a moment, and then said, "Yes."
She looked up at him, holding his gaze for a long moment. "I didn't realize that you cared."
"Dru! That's not fair! Of course I care if you live or die... I just don't..." He trailed off, frustrated. "I don't like the life that you lead, Dru. You know that. Seeing you standing over that man, gloating that you'd killed him..." He stopped again, shaking his head.
Dru scowled at him, hating him for being here when she was too weak to try to throttle him. "No, you're the one that's not being fair," she growled. "When will you understand that I don't have the option of being peaceful?"
"There's always a choice," he said stiffly.
Dru narrowed her eyes, watching him. "Yes? Are you absolutely certain about that?"
He looked uncomfortable. "Look, I know that you are what you are because you've been brought up that way. Can't you leave?"
Dru stared at him. "You're joking. Leave Papa? Kilat, he's the only family that I have. What would I do? It's not like I've learned any trade besides fighting."
Kilat looked down at his hands, which were fidgeting in his lap. "Dru, it's not good for you to be here." His gaze moved to the scars that criscrossed her arms. "I have an idea of how you got those. That's not... normal."
"No?" Dru leaned forward shakily, pulling the sheet up over her bare shoulders. "And where would I be if Papa hadn't trained me to keep going, even while in pain? Probably floating face down in the harbor. Because that man that you saw me kill? He would have killed me. Instead of being able to judge me, you'd have been attending my funeral, Kilat. Maybe, since you were my friend, Papa would have let you be there when he lit the pyre."
He blanched. "Dru. You need to get out of here. You're going to die anyway, if you live like this."
"Kilat," said Dru leadenly. "We had best stop this discussion right now. What you're trying to get me to do is not only unthinkable, it just won't work." She stared at him until he finally nodded, looking back down at his hands.
"I'm sorry to hear that you've been so sick," he said finally. "I knew that you'd be climbing the walls." He glanced over at the elven histories and smirked a bit, but he looked so very unhappy.
Dru leaned back against her pillow. "Yes, when I'm actually able to stay conscious." She watched her former best friend surreptiously, and felt like she was in the room with a stranger. "Kilat?"
He shook his head, angrily. "Your papa is an evil man, Dru. He's going to make you evil."
"Kilat!" Dru shouted, making him jump. "What in all the h***s is wrong with you today? You've known Papa for over fifty years, and you've never been this unkind to him. He's my Papa, Kilat. What makes you think that I want to hear you talk him down like that?" She sagged, head spinning from the exertion of yelling at him.
He jumped up, and started pacing the room. "I've been doing a lot of thinking, Dru. Ever since you killed that man. I've been talking over a lot of it with a new friend of mine."
Dru felt like she'd been slapped. "A new friend of yours. And this new friend is the one that's talking bad about Papa?"
He hesitated, and then nodded. "She's a priestess of the hearth goddess," he offered by way of explanation.
Dru noted the "she" with no small amount of bitterness. "The hearth goddess, Kilat? No wonder she doesn't approve of Papa. And no telling what kind of stories that you've started circulating around the city about him by now. Why did you have to meddle?"
"Dru," sighed Kilat, pressing his forehead against the wall. "Do you really want to know?"
"Yes, I asked, didn't I?"
He was silent for so long that she didn't think that he was going to answer her. "Because I love you, Dru. I don't want to see you hurt. And I think he's hurting you."
Dru blinked several times, and wondered why she didn't feel anything besides mild surprise at his admission. "You... love me?"
He looked at her, and only then did she notice that his eyes were red-rimmed. "Yes, the gods help me, I do."
Dru closed her eyes. Now she felt something, and it was pain at knowing that she was going to have to hurt her friend like this. "Kilat," she said finally, opening her eyes again. "You can't love me."
"Why not?"
She swallowed. "Because, Kilat. I have things planned for me, and none of them involve being married to you ... I'm sorry."
"What you really mean to say," he said bitterly, "Is that I can't love you because you don't love me."
"Right," Dru said, hating herself. "Kilat, up until Swagfest, you were my best friend. I might have considered what you were saying back then, if you'd said something. But not now. I saw the way that you reacted that night... and are still reacting, and I don't think that you can handle me the way that I am. I don't think that you love me at all. I think that you love some version of me that only exists between those ears of yours."
Kilat sunk to the ground, sitting down hard. He looked stricken. "You don't love me. You're not going to leave with me," he said slowly.
Dru closed her eyes, and shook her head. "No." When she opened her eyes again, he was gone. She stared hard at the door for a long time, one tear trailing down her cheek.
Sorry but that just had to be said.
