The more Gruki listened to Saskia talk, the more she wished she'd never asked. 'It's good,' she replied, flaky scales parting beneath the press of her knife. Least the silverfin won't leave me with a bad taste in my mouth, she mused, taking a bite, golden eyes downturned, so she didn't have to look at her friend, the user.

'Friederike... Why'd you do it? To her, of all people?'

Flirting was harmless until it wasn't. Sometimes people caught feelings, regardless of one's intentions. Playing games, toying with people's emotions... It's wrong. Worse than wrong. Gruki knew Saskia wasn't a bad person. Wouldn't have bothered hanging out with her, if such was the case. But to show interest in someone, and to have that interest returned twofold, only to then pull the rug out from under them? Well. It bothered the she-ork.

'You two always got on like a house on fire. We all do!' Friederike was the polar opposite of her brother: reserved, stern, ready to raise Hel at the drop of a hat should a patron push their luck. And yet she always went the extra mile when it came to those she was friendly with. Gruki was fortunate enough to count herself amongst their number.

Maybe that was why she hated the notion that Saskia had messed with her, whether intentionally or otherwise?

'I don't mean to flog a dead horse, Sas, but... I don't know. Seems to me like you enjoy it. The games.' Summoning her courage, Gruki met the dusker's gaze, held it for as long as she could. 'Makes me wonder... if this is all just a game to you, too.'
 
The moment Gruki spoke the beginning of her words, Saskia shrunk beside her. She froze, and did not offer excuse or explanation, not when her friend painted her in the shadowed colours plucked straight from the palette Saskia cultivated. Her shadows fed on her troubles, and churned out repetitions of Gruki's analysis.
'Makes me wonder... if this is all just a game to you, too.'

Saskia finally lifted her face, turned sorrowful eyes upon her friend. Whatever sunshine she was known for died as her shadows clung to her closely.

"It is not." She said. Her eyes stung, and she turned away before Gruki could see them glimmer with tearful emotion. "I am not that cruel, Gruki. I do not take it far enough where I may regret my choices. What I enjoy is the thrill of being admired, of being seen as safe."

Let it out... let us unleash...

Saskia whipped her head around, as if to glare right into her shadows that reached out in her periphery.

Albert returned, this time slowly. Saskia knew by the way his boots fell on the hardwood that this was not his busy and on the job walk, but of someone that could not help but circulate around their table whenever they dropped in. "Everything all right here? Food is... all right?"

"Perhaps I should go." She murmured stiffly. Hurt was learning how to curve a path into her chest. To push through the cage of ribs, and to pierce her heart. It hurt to hear someone doubt her, when she always tried to be liked and bring a smile. If they started doubting her... if they... the shadows...

Saskia's grip tightened around her cutlery, the meat stuck to the prongs of her fork growing cold but the Shadow Knight had already lost all appetite.

"Go? Saskia, no, don't leave. Stay and fini—"

She hand pushed the butt of the knife's handle into the table until it slipped. It clattered out of her hand, but her shadows pulsed quickly. They wrapped around her hand, saving her fingers from being cut. Saskia stiffened again.

Get out, Knight. They see you now.
 
'Not cruel, no,' Gruki agreed quietly, 'but you are fickle. You flit from one person to the next, pulling hearts from sleeves.' Friederike. Reed. Who was next? When would Saskia learn to trust herself and those she took a shine to? It was one thing to regret one's choices. But refusing to take the leap for fear of getting hurt could also lead to regret, and Saskia had never lacked for courage.

Footsteps interrupted the chatter and cheer as Albert approached, not so ignorant to Saskia's plight as he pretended to be.

Gruki's heart lurched as Saskia turned away suddenly, her voice brittle as old bark, the hurt much too deep to see. Albert was the first to speak. He urged the dusker to stay and finish her meal. For all his quips and quick-witted banter, Albert knew when to take a matter seriously.

That was when the shadows appeared, creeping about Saskia's form like vines on a statue. The knife fell to the floor. Albert winced as if stricken.

Reaching across the table, Gruki gripped Saskia's hand before she could think to leave. Tiny motes of shroudlight orbited her fingers, seeing off the shadows that had overstayed their welcome. 'The brighter the light, the darker the shadow,' the she-ork intoned, skin bleeding warmth as she held onto her friend's hand, gentle, but firm. 'To be admired is a fine thing. To inspire faith in another, to the point where they feel safe with you... well, that's a fine thing too!'

Squeezing Saskia's hand affectionately, Gruki smiled.

'Look into my eyes, and tell me what you see. Do I seem afraid to you?' Slowly, Gruki ran her thumb across Saskia's knuckles, feeling every bump and ridge. Good for thumping folk with. After awhile, she let go. Somewhat reluctantly, at that.

'Might want to hurry along with the answer, our meal's getting cold!'
 
Oh hells. She was going to cry.

The Bern had seen her tears before, but that had always been aided by a drink or five, and often left her a blubbering mess of emotion as she declared her love for each of her friends, new or old, who had been here to drink alongside her. Now... now it was because of the hurt she tried to desperately keep hidden. This one moment in her life, the first time she had the light in her taken away from her, and not by shadows. That one fucking moment could not release it's claws from her and let her heal.

Saskia tried to forget. Tried to move on from that moment, and the pretense was there. It was an easier mask to put on and forget it existed. Easiest to hide in the shadows, perhaps it was just dark enough to not see how shallow it hid.

A shaky breath left her lungs, and Saskia still did not answer. Even Albert didn't know what to do with a non-laughing Saskia. He pulled himself a seat, daring to be seen slacking off while on the job. "Gruki is right. The br—"

"—brighter the light, the darker the shadow. I know." Her voice was near hoarse, but she did not clear her throat. How many times had she used this example? Had stolen then shadows made from bright lights to her own advantage?

She refused to lift her gaze, still staring at the full plate of delicious food that she no longer had the stomach to eat. "I know." She repeated. Her hand itched to reach for her mead, to down it and shy from conversation, but between Gruki and Albert... Saskia knew she would not be able to escape this without talking.

"It takes a lot. So much, for me to..." Words failed her. She tried to scramble to speak the right ones, to fill the sudden silence with an explanation she had no clue on giving.

"Perhaps," Albert leaned forward, but giving his friend her space, "if you stopped fighting the dark so much, you wouldn't be this tired. Let us... let us be that light. I'm no knight, but I have heard of the horrors and the difficulties you squire and Sworn see to." Albert grinned at them both, shrugging. "Besides, being the literal sunshine that you are, that's a burden to keep up. Say the word, and Gruki and I can lay you out in the sun to recharge! Like a sunflower!"
 
Gruki found herself laughing at Albert's jest. 'Yes!' She agreed readily. 'Yellow always did suit you, our delicate little sunflower! And if you get too hot sunbathing, we can dunk you in the brook.' The children of Astenvale loved splashing about in the shallows on a warm day, and Gruki could name several occasions where she had been roped into their games. Not that she'd required much convincing.

'Trust in us as we trust in you, Saskia. A burden shared is a burden halved!'

'Wouldn't it be a third of a burden in this case, Gruki?' Albert playfully interjected. Neither of them liked seeing the dusker down. But then some conversations were necessary. Even if they did end up hurting. Gruki shrugged. 'A half, a third- you know what I mean. 'Sides, ain't knights s'posed to count on each other?' The she-ork looked to Saskia, something like expectation in her gaze. 'Granted, I'm still a squire, and don't know much about these things.'

Albert snorted, earning himself a dig in the ribs. Gruki didn't let him derail her.

'Trust, but verify. Open your heart to others, but make sure not to misplace the key. I do that all the time with the chest in my room, and getting a new one cut ain't cheap, let me tell you,' the orkin smiled, blinked some. 'Course, cutting hearts in general is a bad idea, unless you're studying anatomical science. Then, it's just good practice.'
 
She should feel grateful for the friends she kept, for the family she had built, but her darkness and shadows were part of her. That darkness had Saskia feel guilty her friends wanted to help her, to be her light. She didn't want anyone to see how dark was dark within her.

I want to protect them from me, from my darkest shadows.

Saskia lifted her gaze to Gruki, looking to the orkin for only a second before peering at Albert. Her gaze shifted the moment she saw his face turn to concern. Probably due to the welled up tears threatening to break over her lash line at the next blink.

"Very unfair you are not an ugly crier, Syr Kerraelas." Albert shifted back to being cheeky. "It's those baby blue eyes! No wonder you got half the Bern dazzled and wrapped around your finger."

She wanted to curl in on herself. To become small and let the moment pass until every one else forgot. She would stay here until roots grew and kept her in place, and perhaps then she would feel peace.

"Every time I feel the slightest criticism of myself, I think you are all waiting for me to turn bad. That my shadows would have made me into an evil... that it is a rot of blight and then my days were numbered." She admitted. The tears, stupid as they were, fell in hot trails from her eyes. They became relentless, and she no longer fought to stop them. "A woman in a village we helped... she called me evil. She condemned me, and I... I try so hard to make every one see that I am not a threat. I am not someone to fear."

But her resolve wanted to crack and crumble. The walls of defenses were feeling the strain of the siege that was her own crippling self doubt. Any seed of doubt sprouted quickly in the environment of her own thought.

Albert loosed a gentle sigh. "I... don't know what else to say so I am going to go and get you something you cannot cry over. Pancakes? Same for you, Gruks?"
 
Gruki shook her head. 'Not this time, Albert,' she said, pushing her chair back and making to stand. 'If Sassy wants pancakes, Sassy gets pancakes. And a hug, 'cause she looks like she needs one.' Didn't need to speak that part out loud to make it true. Saskia wore her hurt openly, try as she might to avoid showing it.

'Come on, dry those eyes! Save the tears for a rainy day!'

Gruki had always found it easier to cry when the clouds wept with her. Made her feel less alone, though a warm hug never went amiss. Maybe later she could try cocooning Saskia in a blanket, too. That usually helped.

'We've both seen "bad" before. Fought it, faced it down.' Taking the dusker's hands in her own, Gruki pulled her up and onto her feet, allowing her to nestle close, should Saskia so wish. Townsfolk glanced and grumbled, feigning disinterest, or else the opposite. Most were content to sip their beers and continue their conversations. Best for everyone, really.

'Evil isn't capable of feeling... or discerning right from wrong. Evil doesn't know what it means to doubt oneself. It certainly doesn't try to help folk as you have, time and time and time again. Shadows be damned!'

Those were not the actions of an evil woman. Without darkness, what value was the light?
 
She could not stop Gruki from taking her hands, and she could not stop Gruki from pulling her up from her seat.

Saskia whined like a grumpy child, but relented to her friend. She needed a hug, even if she was denying herself any comfort when she felt like this. The tears did not stop their flow. It was better to let the rivers run their course before they dried up.

"I don't... know how to fight. How to fight this thing th-that has been part of me since I was young." She blubbered, hiding her face away from the rest of the Bern as her friend embraced her. Within Gruki's arms, she felt her sister-in-arms standing with her. Saskia would not be alone. She knew her friends would squish her and the others into one embrace, and Saskia was warmed by the reminder of those she had in her life.

"I am tired, Gruki." She whispered, talking herself to steady her voice and not be interrupted but small sobs. "I am so tired of choosing to do good when these shadows beckon me to succumb."

She had done it once. Succumbed to the utter despair that was lodged deep within the shadows she wielded. Saskia had created a shadowsea, threatened the balance of the shroud and herself until her friends and family of knights brought her back with a beacon of light. She once had a dream she found someone that wielded the light to her shadows, and instead of bolstering her power, she was shown that she would never be able to wield light.

"But I cannot stop. If I stop, I lose it all. I... don't like losing, you know that." And so, Saskia needed to persist.
 
'Sounds to me like you're being pulled in two different directions. Light or dark, good or bad.' An endless battle. A lifelong struggle. No wonder Saskia felt like she was being worn thin. To be haunted by shadows day and night, with no hope of reprieve...

'Like trying to fight the tide,' Gruki whispered softly. 'Not a fight you can win, Saskia. But then maybe that's the point?'

Hugging her friend tightly, the she-ork listened as Saskia spilled words like wine from a cup. To lose was to learn, as Gruki had come to realise more times than she wished to recount. In the training yard as well as the game called Life. 'Find acceptance in the waves, or succumb to them. Accept your shadows, those dark parts of yourself that you'd rather keep hidden, and know that for all your perceived flaws and weaknesses, you are still loved. No matter what.'

Not so much a confession as a reaffirmation of what was and would always be.

Sometimes, you needed to hear a thing in order to start believing it. And Saskia had always possessed a kind heart.
 
She did not want to tell Gruki or anyone about that strange dream she once had. Well... it had started as a dream she had thought. Saskia had met a very handsome young man who had a shroud touch of light... but the nightmare began when her own shadows began to eat his light.

There was also something about worms feasting on him as he screamed... and Saskia did not remember how it ended, but she remembered what it felt like waking up.

Her darkness could eat away at someone if she was not careful.

Saskia leaned into her friend and let out a deep, shuddering breath.

"I am very glad to have you, Gruki. Every one should have a Gruki in their lives." She sighed, but found warmth in her friend's embrace. "Even though I feel like I am drowning... you are the constant current pushing me back to shore."
 
Gruki was glad Saskia could not see her face. 'Oh, I don't know about that,' she blushed, happy to hold and be held. For as long as it took for Saskia to reach the shore. Longer. 'If I can help, I will. With your shadows... and your choice of dress.' A friendly dig, or a quiet reminder. Gruki tiptoed around the subject of the impending date with Reed as best she could, but that wasn't to say she would avoid it entirely.

'Maybe we should head back. You can sneak a nap in before dinner... with Reed.'

Surely, it wouldn't be that bad? Beat the hell out of wallowing in shadows the entire afternoon. Even misery needs a break, now and then. 'I can ask Albert to fix our meal to go. Waste not, want not.'

Outside, the Sun was still shining, the birds still singing. The world hadn't stopped turning, ignorant, or perhaps uncaring of Saskia's plight. But then that was why the Gods made Grukis, wasn't it? To help where they wouldn't. Couldn't. 'Dry your eyes, and square your shoulders. You're Syr Saskia Kerraelas! Shadow-weaver. Silver-haired menace of the Knoll.'

Letting go, Gruki took a step back, 'cause jiggying required room and she'd be damned if she smacked anyone in the face.

'Come on, let's go!'
 
Goodness gracious... Saskia groaned.

"I wish we were eating here so it is only Albert teasing me and not the entire Knoll." She groaned once again, getting up after her friend and dragging her feet to leave. "I can deal with Albert but not..."

Not a room filled with knights and squires she always saw as family. There was surely someone that would love the opportunity to embarrass her or to even protect her and get involved. A moment of peace to eat dinner while on a date was never going to happen in the Knoll. Saskia knew this on past experience. "Would it be rude if I invited you? Maybe Albert too if he has the night off?"

She could not tell Reed no and be faced with his crestfallen face. This was something she brought upon herself, and she was too proud to back out of it when she had accepted with a smile... did she smile?

"And besides, I do not need to dress up. I can wear training leathers and make it look like I actually was doing some drills or something..." but Gruki knew Saskia liked showing off her dresses.
 
'Is now a bad time to remind you of the fact you could have been the one to choose the venue?' Gruki smiled sweetly, a teasing lilt to her voice. Perhaps Saskia's fears were well-founded. Perhaps not. The she-ork had yet to meet a knight or squire that didn't like to share the latest gossip over a pint of ale. A few jests and one or two jibes were to be expected. If they had any sense, they would leave it at that.

There was only so much playful mockery one could take before things started to get a bit too personal. And some bad behaviours could only be corrected with a fist to the face.

'Albert having a night off? Now that's a laugh.' Shaking out her cloak, Gruki drew it about her broad shoulders, before fastening it in place. 'We could ask him, I s'pose. Don't ask, don't get.' And she sounds like she could use the support, thought the orkin, gaze soft as the first snows.

'Sure you can,' Gruki laughed, imagining Saskia after a proper training bout, not the playfighting she had in mind. 'But then you'd be no good for anything, and Reed will have to spoon-feed you, which, as you know...'

Would have the entire Knoll dying from laughter. Gruki included.
 
And ask they did.

Saskia was frowning deeply now, sulking as Albert suggested he and Gruki have a drink nearby but support from a distance. He grinned at her pouting and angry brows, turning to Gruki. "What d'ya say? Let our friend have a proper date and if she truly needs us to step in, then we will?"

"If you won't sit with me then don't bother coming at all." She groaned.

"I'm not the one going on a date with you, Syr. I'll happily come by at the exact same time on my rare night off, and have a drink with my friend Gruki here."

Saskia looked up at Gruki, lips pouting, of course, but her blue eyes gleamed with the aftermath of tears. Even her lashes still stuck from the moisture, turning them a shade darker and all the more making her pleading face that more unrelenting.

"But Gruki..." That was all the argument she had. Albert had suffered watching her flirt in this very pub before, and now he was not going to pass up the chance to see Saskia struggle through a date of her own reaping. It was all in good fun, she knew, for Albert and Saskia always found a way to be at odds with one another, card games especially. Gruki, Saskia knew, would need more convincing.

"I will polish your armour. For a fortnight." Her lips pouted deeper, her eyes going wide with innocence and soft pleading. Don't listen to Albert, she wanted to say.
 
Gruki felt a sharp pinch in her chest. Something akin to guilt, pity, or heartburn. 'But nothing, Saskia!' She put her foot down. 'You agreed to dine with Reed, and a knight should keep her word no matter what.' The awkwardness of going on a date whilst surrounded by her fellow 'mums she would just have to live with. At least boredom was optional.

'Albert and I will be close by should you need us, but I don't think it'll come to that.'

Reed wasn't the type to get handsy, was he? Only a fool would try to force their feelings on someone else, and he had never struck her as one, though he was definitely smitten.

And who can blame him? The she-ork sighed, puppy dog eyes piercing the armour around her heart to get at the softness within. Ignore them, ignore them, ignore them! 'My armour's in for repairs at the moment,' Gruki ground out, 'so tough luck. You're going!' Chuckling evilly, Albert clapped his hands together. 'It's a date!'

'Yes,' she laughed, 'it is. Though, I wouldn't go getting any ideas if I were you.'
'Oh? Whatever do you mean?'
'You know-... You-' Gruki threw up her hands in despair. 'You know what I mean! Anyways, don't you have some work to do?'

'Yes, yes, I'm going, I'm going!' Albert saluted them as he wandered away. 'Toodles!'
 
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