Completed Old Made New (Rue)

[Colt]

“This is linen,” said the woman, plucking a sample of the stuff and holding it out for him. Shahar took the scrap of cloth and ran his fingers over it. It was a very familiar material, one that he’d certainly had before and one that he knew to be light and breathable, even if not as sturdy as he would have liked.

“And this one is cotton.” Another sample, one that was also familiar. It was heavier, rougher, but it was a material Shahar knew to be more resilient than the stuff called linen. Shahar felt both in turn, looking back and forth between them; linen would probably be more comfortable, but cotton felt like it would last longer. Shahar didn’t like shopping in the first place, and so he didn’t want to have to buy new clothes more often than he had to. After a few moments of deliberation, he handed both samples back to her and gestured at the cotton.

This one, he said. Then, in trade, he hefted the badger and held it out her her with one hand. How much? he signed with the other.

[Naiya]

Rue had hoped he would choose the cotton, it was going to protect him better and probably last far longer. The trouble was, she wasn't sure how much the badger was worth, and even with the slightly greater expense of the cotton, she wasn't sure the trade would be fair.

She shook her head anyway, she couldn't have a price for him yet regardless of what the badger was worth. Apologies, still more questions. She couldn't help but feel she was bothering the poor man, keeping him dancing about with one question after another. In hopes of moving things along a bit faster she turned to a near table and grabbed two pairs of breeches that would help her explain.

Close with buckles, She held up the brightly dyed breeches with the buckle closure, or laces she showed him the more simple style, a series of lace holes threaded with a string to tie them shut.

"You might want a certain color too? Or embroidery on the fabric?" She didn't think he really looked the type of man to want such things, but maybe if he did, their trade would be more fair. She would have to size him as well, for that would effect the price also, although he seemed the sort that would fit the average sized clothing.

She paused then, her body relaying that she was unsure, and slightly embarrassed. "These things will affect your price, but I am not sure what a fair trade for," she gestured to his prize, a finely striped badger, before giving a small shrug, feeling helpless.

Surely he would grow impatient with her soon. In fact, she rather expected he would give up on her entirely and take his business elsewhere.

[Colt]

She shook her head. No, apologies, still more questions.

Shahar tilted his head and followed her to a nearby table, where she picked up two articles of clothing. The first one was brightly colored, which immediately put the hunter off. He needed muted colors for his work, brown if possible, but he refrained from commenting on it.

Close with buckles, she said, holding up the bright one. Or laces. And the other one.

The buckles would probably be more of an inconvenience than not; the metal would glint unless it was dulled, and he knew from experience that they could be noisy if not worn carefully.

Laces, he decided. Brown, please.

Her posture became uneasy, and Shahar’s posture shifted into gentle curiosity to counter it.

Ah, so the badger was not the correct worth to trade. Was it too little? That was alright; Shahar had prepared for the pelt not being enough. He nodded in understanding, reached into his coinpurse, grabbed a handful of mizas and held them out. He didn’t count them, but there were well over fifteen gold pieces for her to examine.

Will this be enough, then?

[Naiya]

Rue shook her head vehemently, chiding herself for being unclear once more. Plenty, plenty she signed towards the badger, hoping not to let the fine fur go. Far more than the cost of such simple breeches.

There, that was more clear. "I need to take measurements to be sure, but I'd say no more than two gold mizas." She eyed his handful of gold coins, knowing full well that she would likely end up with them rather than the pelt she so desired. The badger looked heavy, maybe six gold mizas worth, more with the scarcity of game in the summer's heat.

Speaking of measurements, she did need to size him before she could find him a pair, though it seemed unlikely he would need a large, but he was so tall. She pulled a fabric measuring tape from a pocket on the half apron she wore slung low on her hips, holding the item for inspection. "May I?" she asked softly, gesturing towards him.

oocI don't picture Shahar the type to wear a small despite how fit he may be, but I wanted to run it by you just in case? Also I do have story plot in taking his measurements if it wouldn't be too outside his character to let her do so.

[Colt]

She shook her head. Plenty, plenty. Far more than simple breeches.

Oh. Shahar looked at the coins in his hand, posture subconsciously shifting to one of embarrassment, apology. He put the coins back into the pouch and hoped she didn’t see the blush creeping into his face.

“I need to take measurements to be sure, but I’d say no more than two gold mizas.”

Ah, that was a relief. Shahar wasn’t exactly a businessman, but he was fairly certain that the badger would be a worth at least that.

The woman looked him up and down, face pulled into a mask of contemplation. After a few moments, she took a peculiarly marked length of cloth out of her apron and gestured at him.

“May I?”

Shahar blinked, not sure what it was she was asking to do. He assumed that she wasn’t intending the strangle him with the thing, and even if she was it looked too flimsy to take a great deal of strain. If she did end up attacking him, Shahar assumed himself strong enough to fend her off––he was not a small man, after all.

Shahar nodded with an affirmative, shifting his weight uncertainly. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do exactly, but he was willing to wait until she told him.

[Naiya]

Rue shifted to counter his embarrassment, attempting to give posture to reassurance and comfort both at once. He was, Rue realized as soft red heat touched his cheeks, almost as uncertain as she was despite being in the dominant role of their encounter.

It was disorienting for her to find herself on equal ground with a man, or really with anyone as of late, and she had to work to push beyond the strangeness. He didn't grow angry with her when she made a mistake, nor when she corrected him, both of which would have landed her with punishments of one form or another at home.

She found that she needed to remind herself to be on guard with the unassuming man, for he was tall and strong, and should he decide he meant her harm, she doubted her ability to stop him. Her combat training aside, he could undoubtedly overpower her if it was his desire.

She ducked her head, hiding behind hair that nearly brushed the ground as she crouched beside him. He shifted, becoming almost tense, as her hand brushed his leg. She wrapped the measure around his ankle first, teeth catching her bottom lip as she wondered what he was thinking to cause his reaction. She held the tape against his leg with one hand as the other lifted a paper scrap and a small hard piece of charcoal from her pocket. She scribbled down the measurement then left them both balanced on her leg as she repositioned the measure. She found the widest part of his calf and scribbled the measurement once more.

She continued taking measurements of a few more spots as well as his inseam in relative silence. It wasn't until she was facing him with her arms nearly wrapped around his waist that it struck her that the entire process seemed to hold an intimacy that didn't exist with other customers.

It wasn't Rue behaving any differently, nor was it any action on behalf of Shahar. It was just a nagging sense in the back of her mind that had finally insisted she look more closely at it, and when she did, she noticed that the touch that meant little to her seemed to hold more... something for Shahar. The realization made her blush. Which embarrassed her further, and she fumbled the strip of cloth, letting it slip through her fingers until it hung limply from her right hand.

It was probably just the silence, she told herself as she gathered the cloth once more, signing an approximation of oops to explain away her clumsiness. Silence was easy enough to fix, though, so she began talking about the first thing that came to mind.

"You saved me once." Her voice was soft, still holding some of the embarrassment she felt, and deepened with the memory of the incident. "I don't know if you even remember, but I'd found myself in a bad situation and I was expecting the worst to happen when you stepped in." She slipped her arms back around him, sizing the cloth at his hips and then again higher up at his waist while she spoke.

She glanced quickly up at him, hoping to catch recognition in his face, but she lost her nerve and quickly turned to scribble down the two final measurements on her paper instead. She laughed to lighten the atmosphere, but the sound came out sounding embarrassingly fragile. Did it matter that much to her whether or not he remembered her?

[Colt]

Her own posture became one of reassurance in response to his uncertainty, and it managed to calm him somewhat, even when she came to a perplexing crouch by his feet. Shahar regarded her curiously as she took hold of the cloth in both hands, but even with his observations he was unprepared for the sudden touch. He tensed reflexively, but retained enough control to restrain the other powerful impulses to attempt to evade her. She wasn’t looking to harm him, that much was obvious, and so he remained stock-still as she began to wrap the strip of cloth around his ankle.

She was measuring him, he realized, and this, at least, managed to convince his mind that there was no danger iminent. His body was not as easy to persuade, although after a few moments of struggle he was able to clear his thoughts and tame his breath, and with a few more moments he managed to relax his ankle altogether––although, in the end, it was no easy task. Shahar was unused to such physical contact, even such sheer closeness with another human being; every touch sent a lance of adrenaline up his spine, making his heart flutter even while the leg itself did not react.

She make a mark on her paper with some charcoal, then moved up to his calf, then his thigh, each time marking down numbers. By the time she had risen to her full height, Shahar’s heart was pounding and his breath was shallow. She wrapped her arms around his waist, not truly touching him but still almost overwhelming him with how close she was to doing so––he couldn’t tell if that was better or worse––and then something happened, causing her to lose her grip on her cloth and sign a quick oops of embarrassment.

She took ahold of the measuring tool once more. “You saved me once,” she said, shattering the heavy silence. “I don’t know if you’d even remember, but I’d found myself in a bad situation and I was expecting the worst to happen when you stepped in.”

She slipped her arms under his, around to his back so she could take his measurements again. Even something as simple as the heat between their bodies charged him to his very bones with something he could not name, even as her words––quiet, almost whispers, but deafening in the space between them––sunk in. Shahar turned his head towards hers, as close as he could without allowing their faces to truly touch.

“Rue Nightsong.”

Yes, he remembered her.

His voice wasn’t the harsh rasp it had been when he had last spoken to her; seasons of talking to Hope had managed to smooth it into something resembling a normal voice, one that was more gravelly than it was actually rough. But even with the practice behind him, he still spoke far more quietly than perhaps he should have, as quietly as one might speak to a skittish beast when wishing to keep it from fleeing––or perhaps it was the voice of the skittish beast, waiting with adrenaline pumping through its body for something to send it fleeing.

[Naiya]

His voice was different than she recalled, though she couldn't quite put her finger on why. It drew her towards him once more, her gaze drifting to his face to see if she could decipher the emotion in his eyes.

He had drifted closer to her, or she to him, without conscious effort or even awareness of the motion. In the back of her mind a small voice shrilled that they were entirely too close for what was appropriate for near strangers, if strangers was even what they were with such an intimate encounter in their past. That little voice though was drowned out by the booming echo that sent all other thoughts from her mind. 'Rue Nightsong'. She could almost feel the vibrations of his chest as he spoke the three syllables that reverberated in her head.

He remembered.

As the echoes began to fade in her mind, the tension crackled between them. Shallow breaths and wide eyes, hyper-aware of the places where they almost touched. She had never experienced anything like it before.

It was exhilarating and terrifying. She didn't have the strength to decipher the emotions, to pick through them until she could give them a name. So she stepped back to arm's length putting much needed space between them not sure it was enough.

[Colt]

Her eyes rose to meet his, and before he could look away he found piercing blue orbs locking onto his green ones. If it was her touch that had frozen him, it was her gaze that trapped him beneath it; there was an intimacy to such close eye contact that rivaled that of the physical, and Shahar was rooted to the spot without even the ability to sign. Their bodies had drifted closer still, if that was even possible, compressing the electricity between them until it practically sparked. It was almost a solid mass in its power––too much, too heated, even with the barest brush of touch between them.

When Rue pulled away, Shahar didn’t know what to feel––was he relieved?

Whatever had generated between them vanished into the sudden space, and in its wake was a peculiar sense of absence, almost like a vacuum in its lack of… whatever had been there before. Shahar led out a shuddering breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

You have your measurements? he signed shakily, posture a vague semblance of unsure.

[Naiya]

Confusion overtook her posture, not entirely diffusing when she remembered herself and her purpose before that... encounter.

Affirmitive the tremble in her hands contradicted the strength of the sign so she masked it with more signing I have them. She stuck to signing, the heady feeling that rushed through her being leaving her untrusting of her voice. It took no conscious thought on her part to make the subtle movements that cast her copper locks across her face, hiding behind the shelter it provided.

I'll just... her hands fluttered through a number of signs, all lacking the element of electricity that seemed now vital because of it's evasion. All of them failing to communicate the feeling she now clutched to her chest in fear that if she relinquished it it would never return. So instead she just turned, moving to find the clothing he sought.

She reached out to touch pair of breeches that called to her, grounding herself in the roughness of the green fabric. He wanted brown though, so she dug through the clothing setting aside this one or that in search of a particular pair of breeches that she recalled seeing not long ago.

Pride her posture seemed to say, though it was fleeting, leaving unease to take its place once her eyes alighted on the dark head of hair visible despite the various displays between them.

The breeches were not tailored, so they would not be fitted exactly to Shahar, but the measurements she took told her they would fit. Cotton dyed the rich brown of earth was offset by the ties, dyed the green of leaves on cottonwood trees. They were not too fancy, she mused, but just in case she reached for a similar pair lacking the adornments of the first.

She returned to him, both items held in her hands, her curtain of hair solidly in place between them.