Siv sat with Quentin at the table. They had finished eating, and now there was a stony silence between them. Taln had told Siv on the way back from Nalana's that they would leave in the morning.
Siv had grown to care for the little man and his cluttered shop of curios. It was perhaps the closest he'd ever come to comfort. The little tidbits of knowledge Quentin had shared, his answering of Siv's inexhaustable barrage of questions, and most of all, the wonderful food Quentin had made for him made Siv feel as if he was deeply in debt to the bespectacled man.
Siv opened his mouth to say something, then scowled and closed it. The words would not come. "Quentin..." he started, trailing off. "I'll repay you, someday. Thank you for all you've done for me." he said honestly. The small man smiled sadly.
"Ah, Siv. You owe me nothing. I could spend the rest of my life scrimping and bowing to Taln and it'd still not be enough to repay the debt I owe him. Though, I can't say that was the only reason I took care of you, lad. I've... I've come to quite enjoy your presence." Siv's eyes explored a particularly winding part of the grain on the table, and his eyes seemed to oddly blur as he looked at it.
"I-" His voice choked for a moment. He could not say what he wanted to say, what he should have said. Quentin scooted his chair closer, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder. It was easy to forget the lad was hardly thirteen. He had an intelligence about him that was beyond his age. He squeezed Siv's shoulder.
"It's all right, lad. I'll still be around if and when you come back." A small sob tore from the boy's throat, and a couple of tears dropped from his eyes. He whipped his sleeve across his eyes, sniffing.
"Damn it old man! I don't- I don't need you to baby me!" Siv stormed out and went to the room where his bed was. Quentin knew the boy was just embarrassed, but he couldn't help but feel a bit stung. He sighed and picked up his damp rag to wipe down the table.
...
Siv slept well that night, after getting over his frustration at crying in front of the shopkeeper. He got up, washed and dressed himself. Entering the main shop area, he saw Taln and Quentin speaking in low tones. They clasped hands, and Taln looked in the smaller man's eyes and gave a nod. "Until next time, Quentin." Taln said, a strange note in his gruff voice.
"Indeed." Quentin said, sorrow in his eyes.
Taln turned and walked to the door without another word. Siv walked up to the little shopkeeper, not wanting to meet his eyes. "S-sorry old man. I didn't-" Siv faltered. He was sorry for what? Leaving? Storming off? For crying? Quentin took him into an embrace. Siv's hands hung at his side, and he hesitantly brought them up to the other man's back.
"I know, lad. It's all right." Siv's shoulder shook. Quentin's characteristic scent of thyme and rosemary clung lightly to his person, and Siv breathed in the comfortable scent. After a moment, he pulled away and looked the older man in his eyes. Quentin was smiling at him. "You be safe, lad."
Siv nodded, wiping his nose with his sleeve. He followed Taln out the door, forcefully keeping his head from turning back to look at the little shop of curios.