If it were a snake...

[Sarra Haystone]

Tresteria... It had been some time since Sarra Haystone had been home. Five years to be exact, and though she wanted nothing more than to crash the Yule ball to see the look on all the nobles, mostly her fathers, face's at her sudden reappearance she'd decided against it. She didn't have a dress that would be appropriate. Besides, she planned on getting piss drunk before she decided to waltz into her family home tomorrow morning to say hello.

She'd decided to check on her siblings, wanting to see how the girls were fairing. If her father had already started to pressure the youngest and only son. She'd written home of course, mostly to put her mother's heart at ease that she was alive. She sent what she could, to make them know she was okay, and because they didn't know where her journey would take her, she had the luxury of not reading her father curse her with one of his letters. She was sure she'd hear enough of it tomorrow.

She was in the corner of a tavern near the docs. Mostly sailors had filled the place. It was very late. Most had already left for the evening, and it smelled of ale, sweat, and whatever else had been forever engrained in the wood of the place. The Sarra from five years ago wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this, but the Sarra of today? She was already on her second mug of ale and fully intended on at least two more. She sat on her barstool, legs crossed like a lady. Her long blond hair was down around her shoulders in uncombed waves, having a wild look to it. She had a small braid, keeping the hair out of her face. The scar on her right side was hidden for the moment, but if she tucked her hair behind her ear it would be visible for all to see. Her shoulders were bare despite the cold chill of winter. Her blouse was maroon colored, and she had a leather corset. Accentuating her curvy figure, and black leather pants with well-worn boots. A short sword hung off her left hip, and she had a knife carefully hidden on her person. A black velvet choker rested at the swallow of her throat, to complete her Yule attire.

She was minding her business, allowing what few patrons there were to drown their sorrows. Why else would anyone be in a tavern on Yule? Instead of being in the warm comfort of a home with their family? Had she decided too, she might have gone home already. But there was a spark of fear there. Not knowing how to face her family after all this time. Especially when she told them she wasn't staying. She had a man to find after all. The one who'd caused this whole fiasco. This was merely another stop on her journey to find Sevrin Demarais.

She brought the mug up to her lips, taking a large gulp of the bitter ale, and basked in the buzz she was beginning to feel before the door to the tavern was abruptly thrown open and a group of men decided to make their loud presence known. She tsked, and didn't bother looking up. Enjoying whatever quiet she had left.

[Sevrin Demarais]

That spark of fear never left, about seeing one's family. Of course, it was a little easier for him considering he only had Cassandra and Elyscia to worry about (oh, and a flurry of cousins), but it had been the sentence on his head that kept him away this long. If he didn't have a lot of trust in Aric, Sevrin wouldn't have been dumb enough to set foot on Tresterian soil.

No, seriously, he wasn't that stupid.

Yet, there he was, on Yule no less. He'd spent time with his sisters before they retired for the evening, and he found himself wandering back to port. It would not be wise or "proper" for him to remain at the castle, and he had no land of his own, so it was back to the ship for him. That is, after a few pints. Just because it was late didn't mean he was ready to call it a night.

The tavern door opened and he was briskly stepping in with a couple of his companions, shaking off the light dust of snow from his cloak. "I rather deal with the fuckin' Akasian sun again than this shit..." he complained out loud before a hand drew down the hood. "Feel free to stay as long as you'd like, boys. We'll be here a couple days, I imagine." In truth, Sevrin didn't know how long this deal with Aric was going to take, or how long his cousin would be able to protect him here. Haystone was certainly going to cause another scene if he remained more than a few days.

Turning, he noticed how quiet the place was. Most people were home with their families on the holiday, and he was forced to be here, about to nurse an ale or two. It was typical, and he'd missed out on so many Yules prior, why should this be any different?

Sighing, he turned to head to the bar; leaning his elbows upon it before running a hand down his face. Right now, he didn't realize there was someone very familiar seated not too far away, and he probably wasn't going to be prepared for it. "Just an ale," he told the bartender.

[Sarra Haystone]

The loudness of the men just seemed to grow as the door shut behind them. Sarra refrained from rolling her eyes, and instead leaned on a forearm, letting her finger trace the rim if the mug after she sat it down. She licked her upper lip, wiping away the foam that rested on top of it from the ale. She kept an ear on the men, as she was  a woman. Aside from a few barmaids she was the only one present too. She hoped her sword detoured them, but knowing her luck...

She caught a voice then, one that sounded familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Maybe it was the booze or her hopeful thinking, but it did  sound a lot like Sevrin. Though, how many taverns had she turned to look? With that hopefulness shining in her eyes, and her mouth parting to call out to him, only to find he wasn't there? No, she wasn't going to look this time. She reached up tucked her hair behind and an ear, letting a small annoyed sigh out.  

"Well aren't you a pretty thing?" A voice spoke to her and those dark blues of hers looked side long at the gentleman that decided to lean on the bar next to her. She hadn't heard his approach, and he blocked her view from the rest of the bar. He was decent looking, and from the look of him she guessed he was a merc of some sort. "What's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this on Yule?" He asked. A slow smirk appeared on her face and she turned her head more to look at him. "I could ask you the same thing, but sorry. Not interested." She said sweetly, flashing him a smile. 

He visibly pouted, and she could see he was slightly annoyed. "But it's Yule, no one should be alone on Yule." He pointed out. His buddies seemed to be calling out to him, but he didn't move. "How do you know I'm not alone?" She asked, indulging him for the moment. It was Yule, she'd be a little nice. He seemed to still for a moment, looking her over and then at the seat opposite her that had her cloak on it, and then glanced around the room. "I'm not seeing anyone." He pointed out, leaning on the counter. "You have bad eyesight then." She reached down to pat the sword at her hip. That seemed to amuse him as he laughed. "Do you know how to use that thing Sweetheart?" He asked her curiously, and she lifted a shoulder and it fall. Taking a hand to flip her blond hair over a shoulder, as she smiled sweetly at him, but the look in her eyes told him not to test her. "Push your luck and find out. Now, run along like a good boy." She made a shooing motion with one hand. Apparently he took it as an invite and leaned in towards her more. "C'moooooooon blondie, it's Yule. Don't you want a little Yuletide cheer?' He asked her. Sarra reached for her mug, taking another gulp of the liquid before she set it down. "Not particularly, I'm a bit of a Scrooge this time of year. Besides, I'm already taken." She informed him. Narrowing her eyes. His curiosity seemed to be piqued and arched his brows at her. "Oh yeah? By who?" He asked, narrowing his eyes right back. 

[Sevrin Demarais]

His men were already getting a bit loud at one of the empty tables, but Sevrin just seated himself at the bar; silently thanking and paying the tender when he brought him his ale. The goal was to actually have a quiet evening for once, but he was about to find out that that wasn't going to be the case. It was probably karma coming back to bite him in the ass.

Bringing the mug up to his lips for a drink, he idly listened to the conversation that was happening nearby. Normally, he didn't eavesdrop and normally he didn't care, but it was slowly becoming quite clear what was happening. It was also a little hard to ignore when the entire tavern was basically quiet, except for a few conversations here or there. It was late, after all, so the only people likely left in here were the drunkards. And this particular man was clearly intoxicated.

Another sip, Sev placed his mug down and sighed. The woman the drunken one was trying to get into bed was quite obviously not interested...and the man was struggling to take no for an answer. Now, the disgraced noble wasn't the chivalrous kind. He didn't stick his nose into someone else's business unless he was getting paid or he absolutely had to. Right now, it was neither of those reasons until something about the woman's voice struck a chord in him. It sounded familiar, yet it wasn't the reason why he finally turned towards the pair. No, the reason why he was about to intercept this little party was because they were annoying him.

He slipped away from the counter and clapped the drunk on the shoulder from behind. "Enough is enough, mate," he said in sheer irritation, forcefully pulling him away from the female patron. When the man stumbled away and Sev let go of him, the merc suddenly became distracted before he could further handle the situation. Blues blinked in confusion, growing wide with the face he saw before him. Sevrin had to do a doubletake, unsure if he was more drunk than he believed. No, he barely touched the wine at the party, and he'd only had a couple sips of his ale now.

Maybe this was a dream.

The dumbfounded look on his face grew even more as he stared at her, trying to figure out what in the world Sarra Haystone was doing there and why. He hadn't seen her at Yule, but figured she was safe at home. Like she always had been. Right where Haystone wanted her. His lips parted to speak, but the drunkard he nearly forgot about was clambering up behind him.

"Oi, who'dya think ye are?!"

Sevrin blinked again, turning in time to see the man charging that short distance. The mercenary had just enough space to move and grip him by the back of his neck. In one swift motion, Sev brought him towards the bar top between him and Sarra, viciously slamming his face down onto the edge. The drunkard was knocked out immediately, tossed aside and falling to the ground with a loud thump somewhere out of view. Sevrin didn't know because he was still staring at what could only be a figment of his imagination.

"Sarra?"

[Sarra Haystone]

As if on magical, sheer coincidental cue, there was a hand that was suddenly plopped down on the man’s shoulder. Sarra might have been impressed by the timing, as the words had no less left his lips, before the new comer spoke and interrupted her from answering the drunk. He was pulled away and it was like he’d suddenly materialized. Those cobalt blues did their own doubletake as staring at the blond that had come to her rescue. After all this time, who would have thought she nearly would have had to get hit on in a bar back home in Treseria for the man she’d been searching years for to suddenly appear.

A Happy Yule indeed.

Sarra’s face mirrored the confusion of Sevrin Demarais’. “Him,” She found the words coming out in a whisper to the drunks previous question. She frozen in place, wondering is she was dreaming or this was some trick. She wasn’t that drunk was she? She’d gained quite the tolerance over the years, and she was only on her second one. Her jaw went lax, and for a moment the rest of the tavern just disappeared as she stared at him. Seeing what the years had done to the young dishonored Duke. He was less refined and more rugged. Honestly it was a good look for him, and her mind wandered. How long had he been in Treseria? Did he get his banishment removed? Where had he been?! She’s spent so long trying to find him that it was almost laughable he’d be here of all places.

If it had been a snake, it would have bitten her. The drunk was suddenly a heap on the floor. His face hitting the bar was enough to jar her out of the trance she’d been under. Hearing him say her name again sent a shiver down her spine. It’d been far too long since she’d last heard him say it.

After all this time, and with him finally there in front of her for her to see, to possibly touch….After all the times she’d dreamed about what she’d do when she saw him again...It all went out the window, and she stared at him dumbfounded. Unable to speak. Her lips parted, but nothing came out. The shock was still clear on her face, and she finally turned towards the bar. Picking up her mug, she downed the rest of the ale, before setting it down and wiping her mouth on her sleeve. “I’m dreaming. Or I’m drunker than I thought.” She muttered more to herself then him. She turned her head to stare at him, and a small laugh bubbled up in disbelief. “This can’t be real.” She asked him.

“Is it really you Sev?” She found herself whispering as she stared at him intently, there was a spark of hope in their dark blue depths. Almost daring him to tell him otherwise. She didn’t want this to be a dream. A part of her did want this to be real so her search could finally be over.

[Sevrin Demarais]

'Him.'

He didn't even know what that had been in reference to, whether or not he had heard the drunkard's question didn't seem to really matter much at all anymore. To be quite frank, he was no longer hearing anything around him. The man somewhere on the floor could regain consciousness and try to attack him right then and there, and Sevrin wouldn't have noticed until it was too late. Right now, all he could do was stand there with that shocked look on his face, wondering if he had somehow lost his mind.

It wasn't that he stopped thinking of Sarra, but as the years went on, his thoughts on her had lessened. Not only because they had to, but she was a constant reminder of why he had been banished, why he had been forced away from his sisters, why his father had wussed out and took the easy way out of a long and ridiculous fight with another noble house. Sev forced himself to forget about her, even if every once in awhile those cobalt eyes haunted his dreams, lulling him back to remember.

Sevrin was so taken aback, that he had forgotten where he was- in a tavern, which was a place she would never be found in easily. He didn't even realize that she wasn't dressed lavishly in a ballgown for tonight's festivities either. There were no glittering jewels around her neck. Nothing. All he could seem to look at was her face; searching it for answers to questions he couldn't seem to speak.

Even when she looked away briefly, he was still staring. She was talking, and he barely heard any of it until she said his name, and then it was like a hammer came crashing down on his head.

"It's...it's me," was all he seemed to be able to say before he took one cautious step closer. He waited for a few seconds, as if expecting her to disappear before he was closing the gap between them. His hand slowly rose up towards her face, only to take a strand of that blonde hair in between his fingers, trying to make his mind understand that she wasn't an illusion.

Or, if she was, it was a damn good one.

[Sarra Haystone]

Sarra held her breath as he said it was him. She felt anticipation as he took that step closer, her eyes locking on his, as his hand reached out to touch a lock of her hair. He’d closed the gap, and she had to crane her neck back to look up at him. For a moment, it felt like it was just the two of them. Both in disbelief that the other was there. What did he think? She looked completely different from the last time he’d seen her. She’d been softer, less hardened. Untouched by the world and what it was capable of. Boy was he in for a treat if he pushed the hair on the right side of her face behind an ear…

And what of him? What had the world done to him since he’d left Tresteria? What scars had been put on his body? His mind? His heart? Cobalt blues searched his eyes for a moment more when she finally took a breath in. She reached up to touch the back of his hand from where it was touching her hair. Her fingers were calloused from her own work with a sword. Roughened by hard work, and labor. For a second her eyes had closed to lean into his touch when she caught herself.

He’s here. You found him. A voice told her, and she was suddenly over come with emotion. She sucked in a breath as her eyes opened, meeting his. Her fingers tightened around his wrist and she took his hand in hers. Reaching behind her, she grabbed her cloak, and quickly put it over her shoulders before she wordlessly started to pull him towards the exit. If he allowed her, she’d lead the way to the back of the tavern, going out the back way in the alleyway. Her breathing had begun to pick up, and her heart was loud in her ears. How long had she waited for this moment? She didn’t want prying eyes on them. She didn’t want word to possibly get back to her father she was back in Tresteria, or that Sevrin was either.

Once out in the alley, she released his hand. Her heart feeling like a racehorse now. Five years. Five long, excruciating years. Sarra didn’t want to believe it, but there was a time she thought she’d never see Sevrin again. She’d been tied to a post in a tent and no one had come to her aide as her screams and cries filled the air. She wished for death, but death never came. How she lucked out on escaping she’d never be able to answer, but she had the scars to remind her. That was another thing that made her heart skip a beat. Physically and mentally she was not the same Sarra he’d remember. Her skin was scarred as was her mind, but she’d deal with it when the time came.

Right now the present only mattered and that he was back. She’d found him. Or he had found her, either way… The moment she heard the door shut, she whirled around, aiming to slap him across his face. Sarra could already feel the tears beginning to well up in her dark blue eyes. “That’s for leaving without saying goodbye.” She told him, pursing her lips, as she inhaled sharply. She knew he didn’t have a choice. He had to leave, but dammit! She wanted to say goodbye still. Didn’t she deserve that much? Did the year they spent together mean nothing to him? If her hand hadn’t connected with his face, she’d attempt to smack on his chest or arm, trying to fight back the sob that wanted to break through her throat. “That’s for being such a difficult man to find,” She panted, fighting back the tears as her hands clenched the front of his cloak. Her knuckles were white. "I never got to say it," Her voice crack as she looked up at him.

[Sevrin Demarais]

So much time had past, and yet...in a way, it wasn't. The both of them looked different, certainly, but they also looked the same in ways. At least, staring at her now, Sevrin thought Sarra somehow still looked as she had the last day he had seen her. In subtle ways anyway, or perhaps it was simply his mind playing tricks on him again. A part of him was still in denial, still unable to really grasp the reality that she was, in fact, there in front of him.

He actually drew in a quick breath when he felt her touch against his hand, then with how she leaned into his palm. How was this possible? In truth, he thought about looking for her when he set foot on Tresterian soil. Sevrin wasn't sure how long he would be here (or how long he'd be able to remain), so it might have been a bad idea. The last place he expected to ever run into her was this tavern. Maybe that was why he was struggling to accept this.

Then, she was drawing away. He wondered if this was when he woke up, when her image would just dissipate in front of him. Sev slowly blinked, unsure on what to do or even say before she was dragging him towards the door without uttering a word. He was still struggling to speak, but he didn't seem to be questioning any of this as he was dragged back out into the cold, now standing before her in the alleyway. Standing there in a bit of a trance, his jumbled mind was trying to figure out if this was a holiday miracle or not.

Sarra's hand suddenly connected with his face, and he was snapping out of this fog immediately.

His head barely swiveled from the blow, but he was still blinking away the sting of it. "...ow?!" What the fuck was that fo- oh, there it was. Shifting his jaw, he blinked once more as he had been thrown straight into the reality of this all, and set those bright eyes on her face, noticing the hint of tears in her eyes instantly. "I barely had time to say goodbye to my own family," he threw back at her. Sevrin's tone was on the borderline of annoyance as well as pain over the whole ordeal. Even if he had had the time to say goodbye to her...would he have? He'd been even younger and more foolish back then, and Sev had no idea on his feelings. And he still didn't, regardless that she was standing there in front of him now.

Standing firmly on his feet, the merc let her hit him in the chest, the arm, wherever if it made her feel any better. He didn't stop her nor step away from the blows as he simply watched her begin to crack right before his eyes. As her fingers curled into his cloak, his own were wrapping around her wrists gently while he ground his teeth in contemplation. "You...were supposed to move on, Sarra." The confusion was quite evident on his features now, unable to comprehend why she would have been searching for him. Had she physically been trying to do so? Is that why she looked so different? He couldn't figure it out, nor could he voice all of these questions just yet.

[Sarra Haystone]

Sarra had never thought about that. Never thought that he would have even been able to say goodbye to his own family. Thrown onto a ship and forced to leave without saying his farewells, but she supposed that would have been a kindness someone, most likely her father, didn’t think he deserved. It made it hurt all the more.

Her blue gaze stared at the middle of his chest, for the moment unable to look at him, even his hands on her wristed sent a warm up her arms. She’d missed his touch. Craved it like none other, but she refused to rush things incase this was all a terrible dream. Her jaw clenched as she struggled with the tears. A mix of overwhelming happiness and relief at finding him, seeing him alive, and the guilt she felt.

Her hands tightened into his cloak a small bitter laugh came forth. She finally looked up into his confused face. “How could I?” She asked him softly. Her face softened, and for a moment she was afraid those tears would spill over bottom lids. Had he really asked that? Even if she never said the words, she’d always thought she’d made it clear with her actions, those subtle glances across a courtroom, the stolen kisses and touches of what he had meant to her.

“Father tried.” She said softly, for a moment a dark look crossed her features. As her upper lip curled up into a sneer. “His methods were unconventional.” She admitted. Searching his eyes, while her lips pursed together. “He sent me away after you left Sev. Said you ruined me, and that I needed to have whatever thoughts I had of you cleansed and removed.” She averted her eyes, her fingers gripping the cloak tighter, before she took a slow breath in through her nose, and back out. She glanced back up at him. “I had made plans to go with you.” There was a sad smile, since the plan had clearly failed. “He found out and wanted to punish me for it. So,” She took another deep breath. “I ran away.” She whispered. The once ever obedient Sarra Haystone had done the first rebellious thing she could have ever done, in managing to give that carriage the slip.

“I would have found myself in a fate worse than death.” She said adamantly, fully believing she would have. She probably sounded insane, but if it was one thing Sevrin had taught her, it was stupid decisions led to possible worth while things. She had lived. Adventure had called her, and adventure had led her right back to him. “I’ve been trying to find you, this whole time. To tell you...” Her voice  cracked at the end, causing the last words to fade quickly as the tears spilled over her bottom lids like an over flowing dam. 

[Sevrin Demarais]

It had hurt. Even if he hadn't fully expressed how much it had, leaving his family and leaving everything he had ever known behind had been one of the most painful things he ever had to experience, despite always wishing he could travel without the restrictions of title. This had been different- he wasn't allowed to come home whenever he pleased, he couldn't visit his sisters when he missed them, and he couldn't have pursued any sort of life with Sarra. She had deserved far more, and he selfishly ruined it.

Now, the reality of her actually being there in front of him intensified with each passing second. He was staring at her as though he expected her to disappear at any moment, that he would wake up in his cabin to the sound of crashing waves. His hands released her wrists, but his touch was gentle at her elbows; confusion washing over him like the strongest storm at sea. A part of him wanted to embrace her but felt that it would be a very foolish idea, and couldn't seem to do anything but stand there with blinking eyes.

What had happened while he was away?

'Father tried.' Sarra tried to explain what she had gone through, and something told him this all ran deeper than what she was saying. It was all a rush now, he was struggling to comprehend, still trying to get over the fact that she was standing there before him. He wished he could say it felt like time hadn't passed between them...but it had. Both of them, in ways, were entirely different. He could sense it in her, he could see it just by looking into her eyes.

'I had made plans to go with you.' That finally broke the dumbfounded look on his face, and he was left in a bit of disbelief. If she had tried, would he have allowed her? Would he have told her to return home? The life he led wasn't a good one and not for everyone. It was hard, and every day he wondered when it would be his last. Sevrin purposely threw himself into danger just for the sake of making some money. No, that was no life to offer a woman such as Sarra. At least, the Sarra he knew. Apparently, she ran away from home. Besides cavorting with the likes of this banished duke, it hadn't been like her to disobey her father's wishes.

Maybe he shouldn't feel anymore guilt, but he did. And he couldn't ignore it. He couldn't ignore those tears.

"I did ruin you, Sarra," he told her sternly, despite the flicker of sadness and unsureness in those blue depths of his. "I stupidly took away your virtue, your value and hopes of standing strong in this forsaken society. I took it all without a care when I had no fuckin' right to." He had been so young and naive then. Though, in ways, he hadn't exactly changed.

[Sarra Haystone]

The tears warmed her cold cheeks from standing out in that cold air, and she frowned up at Sevrin, her eyes flaring as he told her he did ruin her. She shook her head, her hair moving with the motion, and for a split second revealed part of her right cheek that had that scar, was no longer hidden by hair before it was hiding again.

“You Sevrin, Demarais, opened my damn eyes to living and being able to stand up for myself. You did not ruin me, you merely helped me realize who I really am. I would have been miserable and bored out of my mind. Allowed people to treat me like a doormat. That Sarra was weak, I’m stronger now. I don’t need this forsaken society that treats women like objects. I’m so much more than that. My value is more than this hell hole, and I have you to thank for it.” She said vehemently. Reaching up to wipe angrily at her face.

“How dare you say that you ruined me.” She said angrily. She didn’t want Sev to feel guilty or to sound like her father. He’d merely helped open her eyes to the type of woman she really was. The one that craved adventure and opportunity. The one that didn’t want to be cooped up inside, and wanted to see all that the world had to offer. She had him to thank for that. She could only imagine what old Sarra would be like now if he hadn't pursued her. “It’s my life, I let you do it.” She removed her hands from her face to look up at him. Her bottom lip still trembled, letting her sudden anger at him thinking he ruined her fuel, as she poked him in the chest. She watched her finger, unable to look him in the eye as the years of guilt came bubbling up, and finally spilled over the pot. “You don’t get to feel guilty, I do.” She whispered, the cadence in her tone quivering as she tried to keep herself together. “I never got to tell you sorry.” Her voice broke, as her face threatened to crumble once more. Her fingers smoothed over the front of his cloak. “If I had only remembered to lock the door we wouldn’t have gotten caught, you wouldn’t have gotten banished, you’d still be here, and-” She tilted her head back to look at him. “It’s my fault, and I’m so sorry, Sev. I’m so sorry.” There was a small whimper before placed her forehead on his chest and her body began to shake with silent sobs.

[Sevrin Demarais]

How could she deny it? They had been stupid, and clearly they both were punished for it. There was just something welling up deep within his chest that he couldn't comprehend. After his banishment, he often wondered what it was that he had with Sarra. Had it been anything but a simple fling? It hadn't been a courtship by any means, far from it, but it had been something, right? What that something was, however, he had no words for.

The mercenary had been with many women, but not all of them were held in his memory. Sarra, at the very least, was the first one he felt guilty for because it hadn't been just lust. There had been a kinship there once, an honest friendship, and it was why his thoughts would often stray to her until he forced everything from Tresteria out of his mind, lest he go mad.

Now, she stood before him sobbing, a different woman, a broken woman in ways. He didn't understand what it was that was stirring within him, and he was unsure if it was good or not. That, in and of itself, could be considered dangerous.

Bright eyes caught sight of that scar very briefly before her words garnered his complete attention once more. No, it halted him completely. Sev was about to stand by what he said, but it was so very difficult to when she spoke, threatening to put him in his place if he did not listen. Despite her tears, the determination and passion in her voice took him by surprise, an expression he didn't bother trying to hide from his features.

'It's my life, I let you do it.'

Sevrin was still and silent, only able to stare down at her as he sought for words. Even as that finger prodded at his chest, he barely moved. 'You don't get to feel guilty, I do.' Then she was apologizing and that was when he finally moved; a small, simple instinct to wrap an arm behind her back, if only to quietly make her aware that he was still present and actually was listening. Fancy that. Before he could ask what she could possibly be sorry for, she was telling him...and he couldn't stop the amused smirk that cracked across his face, even while she sobbed.

The mercenary shook his head, chuckling lowly. "Someone was bound to find out sooner rather than later, doll," he admitted. "I don't do well behind locked doors, anyway..." It was both a truth and slight insinuation, but he was urging her to lift her face back up to him. Most of the humor drifted away, because he was serious when he spoke after, "It's not your fault. We were both stupid." There came a light shrug as if he was saying, "and that's all there is to it". Because, it was. No one could really be blamed, but the reactions of her father and Sevrin's punishment were a whole other matter.

With the sudden urge to, he lifted a hand to tuck some of her hair behind her ear- an old habit he apparently hadn't lost- when he noticed that scar again. His expression darkened considerably. "What happened?" he practically demanded, because if it had been her father, then...there was going to be a problem.

[Sarra Haystone]

It was funny how one moment you could act and be as tough as you portrayed yourself to be, to be hardened and strong for nearly five years, and to then suddenly be brought down to the level of a weeping woman in the matter of seconds. All because of one man. A man she didn’t think she’d be able to see again.

Sev’s sudden arm around her back was all the comfort she needed to be reminded he was actually there and that he was listening to what she had to say. He’d always done that in a way though. How often had they’d stayed awake, staring at a ceiling and just talking about whatever came to mind? There was no need to act like nobles but be themselves.

His chuckle caused her to tighten her hold on his cloak. He had a point, they probably would have found out at some point. No matter how careful they were, it would be a matter of time. Her blue gaze looked up at him as he made his insinuation, and try as she might to purse her lips and be serious, there was a small laugh. He really didn’t do well locked doors. The current light mood he’d tried to set, soon changed more serious and she sighed quietly. Averting her eyes for the moment. That was the problem. They both had been stupid, and one of them should have been smarter. More prepared, and yet if that was the case they would have never done what they had now would they?

“We should have still been more careful…” She whispered. The sudden tucking of her hair behind her ear had her glancing back up at him just in time to see his expression had darkened, and Sarra froze. Her natural instinct was to lean into his touch, but she couldn’t move. There was no hiding the scar that marred her face. Started at the top of her right temple it curved down to the middle of her right cheek bone. She could still vividly remember the hard rough grain of that old wooden table. The large grimey hand that had held her head down, and the point of that blade as the man responsible for her torture carved into face.

Sarra’s jaw clenched as she stared up at Sevrin. She always knew she would have to tell him one day if their paths crossed again, and it wasn’t going to be something she could hide. She could hide none of them, but especially this one. “Teronna, three years ago.” She said quietly. Probably not something he was expecting, but she had been all over trying to find him. Whether he believed her or not, would be up for debate still. “Someone had some questions, and didn’t like the answer’s I gave.” She said simply, not wanting to go into details. She still had nightmares about it. “It’s in the past, and clearly I’m here in the flesh..” She shrugged lightly, clearly not wanting to talk about it more as she peered up at him.

[Sevrin Demarais]

Yes, they had been very stupid, but Sevrin never claimed to be a very smart man to begin with. At least, not in that regard. Sarra had been a quick addiction that blossomed into a weakness that, deep down, he knew he couldn't afford. And it had cost him everything. He no longer held a title and his sisters had been placed into Edward's hands, to be married off like pawns in a game. He no longer had a home to come back to, having to stay out at sea lest he decided to settle elsewhere. He'd lost his pride on top of it all, and yet, it was hard to say that he entirely regretted it.

What it had done to his family hurt more than anything, but everything else? No, he took everything else in stride and his chin held high. Haystone could go fuck himself. He would never get the satisfaction of seeing Sevrin defeated.

So then, what of this situation now? A part of him was relieved to know that scar wasn't a result from something her father had done...but it didn't make the anger reside. She'd been to Teronna, she had probably been everywhere, and for what? She had been looking for him, she said. No matter how much she argued, he was still struggling to understand why she would throw her life away like that. Throw it further away.

The pad of his thumb gently traced the white scar along her face, and his jaws clenched even more. Sev had been so used to the noble girl in her fancy dresses, with her hair done up in curls of gold. Not this. It didn't make her any less beautiful, mind you, but it made his heart ache with guilt, as if he had been the one holding the blade. Yet, whatever had happened, she didn't want to elaborate on it.

Sevrin had to pull his hand away, loosening his other arm around her as he took a step back. This was beginning to feel a little too familiar.

His brow furrowed, a confused anger crossing his face. "So that...is because you were searching for me?" There was disappointment in his tone, and Sev didn't really know who it was for. "I...get why you defied your father, Sarra, I do, but...I can't really understand why you would just...risk so much-" For something so small and stupid, he nearly finished with.

[Sarra Haystone]

Cobalt blues watched Sevrin carefully, as he ran his thumb over her scar. She was trying to get a read on him, but he was always so hard to read. There was the feeling he's showed outwardly, and then there were the feelings he felt on the inside.  She could see how hard he was clenching his jaw and there was a need to reach up and stroke his cheek to try and get him to relax it. But just as the thought entered her mind he was stepping away from her. His arm loosened and Sarra watched as angry confusion spread across his face.

She blinked in surprise, a brief moment of wonder, before he spoke. The disappointment in his tone was a sharp blade to her heart, and she felt herself tense. He was asking why, why she would run away and do everything she did in the last five years. She'd been searching for him for so long, the thought that he...well that he didn't want her to find him had never crossed her mind. That thought had her breath catching, and a sudden thought she didn't want to think about crept into her mind. 

What if this had all been in her head? What if it had been one sided? All of it? They had been young, Sev could have only had one thing on his mind at the time, and she'd ruined his life. He had every right to not want to see her again. But Sarra thought she knew him. She thought she'd shown him how she really felt about him. You went after the one you loved didn't you? To be with them? Love made you do incredibly stupid things, and Sarra suddenly felt like the biggest fool of all in that moment. 

She took a step  back, pulling her cloak tighter around her to keep out the cold as the snow fell quietly around them. She clenched her jaw and pursed her lips as she stared at him in disbelief. Hurt showing in her eyes. It had all been her choice. She could have stopped looking for him at any point, but she hadn't wanted too. 

"If you have to ask that question, you're a bigger fool then I thought, Sevrin Demarais." She whispered. Glaring at him as she felt her heart begin to harden itself quickly. Not wanting to shatter itself right there in front of him. Nothing had prepared her for a possible rejection on his part. She was quickly realizing she was an idiot for thinking he might be just be as happy to see her as she was him. Blinded by the girlish heart she used to have. She quickly reminded herself she was not that same girl. She was more hardened, different, and she wouldn't show weakness.  Even in front of Sevrin. "And I'm a fool for thinking you might have felt the same." She admitted with a quiet murmur. She took another step back, finally averting her eyes. "I should go. You have your men waiting for you no doubt." She nodded back towards the tavern, before she started to turn to walk away. Not wanting to be there anymore, for fear that she'd lose any hold of control she had left.