The Day They Knew Love

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Sophia grinned, pleased as punch at the massive creature before her. Konstantine was right in assuming she'd not had much experience with animals, beyond typical cats and dogs. "It is very nice to meet you, Aethon." She laughed and gave him a few more pats. "Wow, he's the same age as you? That's so cool!" The smile grew even broader as the huge red horse blew through his nostrils and pressed his head against her chest. She scratched his ears and stepped back as the horse lifted his head. "We're riding, then?" she sounded somewhat apprehensive about this. She'd never been on horseback before, and while she liked Red well enough, riding him and saying hello were to very different things. Even so, she stepped up beside him and let Konstantine help her up onto the back of the saddle.

She perched nervously until Konstantine had swung into the saddle in front of her. She scooted closer to fit more comfortably in the saddle. Just as she'd gotten a bit more at-ease, the horse moved, and she lurched with it's motion, clutching tight to the back of his shirt as he moved with Red's motion. By the time they had made their way out of the city center and into more sparsely populated areas, she was able to sit more comfortably, having gotten used to the gentle swaying of their mount. "This isn't nearly as terrifying as I'd first thought," she admitted, with a sheepish grin that he couldn't see. Now that they were moving down streets that were growing more and more rural, she could even appreciate the beauty of the scenery around them. "So where are we headed?"

This was much nicer than the day she'd had planned out. Especially since several of her father's "work associates" had stumbled into their house at three o' clock in the morning after the bars had closed. There was something odd going on, she was sure of it, but she didn't want to probe too deeply. So long as she could put food in the house and keep the electricity on, she wasn't going to delve into those waters, not yet. She gave her head a little shake, as though to rid herself of these thoughts, and gazed around at the passing scenery, quickly turning to countryside as they left the city behind.

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Sophia stuck her tongue out behind Konstantine's back. "I don't have a car either, ya know. Though it'd make getting around a lot easier." Money had never exactly been an issue for her family, but ever now...she couldn't even depend on her father to put food on the table. To ask him for something so extravagant as a car, she might as well ask for the moon. "I agree, you should keep him. He's had a long life, he deserves to spend it all with the family he grew up with." She felt a bit silly sympathizing with a horse, but something about the situation struck a chord with her.

She adjusted her seat as Aethon picked up speed somewhat, her arms holding tight around Konstantine's chest as she acclimated to balancing. It was enjoyable enough to ride, though, and she found she was still able to enjoy the passing scenery. She smiled at his description of their path and eventual destination. "I'll trust your judgement. Moreso, I'll trust that you're not carrying me off into the wilds to leave me for dead," she laughed, honestly surprised by how at-ease she felt in his company. Her hand tightened in his as he closed his around it. As their journey wore on, she found herself somewhat drowsing, not in a bored or particularly sleepy manner, but more at peace with the sounds of nature surrounding them. She couldn't recall the last time she'd been outside the bustle of the city.

When at last they came to a stop, she waited for him to dismount, and scooched forward carefully into the main cradle of the saddle, and pulled a leg over, sitting sideways on the horse. She lay her hands on his shoulders and slid carefully down, bracing against Konstantine for balance. Her legs wobbled beneath her, and she was glad he was so close to steady her. She stepped carefully toward the stream, gazing around with a kind of wonder she hadn't felt in a long while. Smiling wistfully, Sophia sat on the bank and slid her shoes and socks off, rolling up her pant legs to dip her feet in the cool water. With a carefree laugh, she stood, and waded in the cool water, enjoying the soft sand beneath her feet. She turned at his words to look where he was pointing, and gasped. "I keep forgetting how beautiful this city is. I haven't been away in so long."

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Her sudden burst of laughter was uncommonly loud for her, but no less full of wry amusement. "Assuming you don't grow weary of my company that is. All I know is music and the city." She didn't speak aloud of it, but that was something that nagged at her. She really didn't have much of a life outside her studies for school, and practicing at every instrument at her disposal. She couldn't even really cook. As she waded through the stream, it came to her that she'd never really even had much in the way of conversation outside of those subjects. Her mother had been her best friend.

She bent down, digging through the soft sand for smooth river stones, sorting through the ones she found for a handful that were pretty in their own way, perfectly oval, flat and smooth. She glanced up at the query and smirked. "A little bit of everything, as a matter of fact. Protein bars, water, a small first aid kit, extra socks, a pocket knife, a bit of rope, a wood flute. A few apples. I believe in being prepared." She laughed, moving over to the bank to set her prizes aside, keeping a handful of nice flat rocks. These she tossed, trying to skip them across the surface. After a couple tries she managed to skip one a couple of times, and thereafter had a bit of an easier time of it.

She turned back toward the bank a bit reluctant as he called her back over, dropping the rest of the stones into the water. She grabbed up her shoes, but rather than working them on damp feet, she tied the laces together across the straps of her satchel so they dangled behind her. As he tucked the flower behind her ear she blinked in surprise, her cheeks flushing pink, and she took the small bundle of wildflowers almost shyly, murmuring a thank-you. Clambering back on the horse with rather less grace than she'd have liked, she settled against Konstantine, the flowers in one hand, looking down at the pretty burst of color. She gave a start as his hand closed around hers, but she did not pull away.

Smiling to herself, inordinately pleased by so simple a gesture, she looked often backward, feeling a great sense of peace steal over her as the morning wore on, seeing the glint of sunlight on the brilliant blue of the ocean, the city rooftops now distant where they clustered against the shore. When at last they reached the destination, it felt somehow right to her, though she rather wished they'd arrived late in the evening. It looked so welcoming, the spot would be perfect for a night of stargazing beside a bonfire.

The fig tree was like none she had seen before, massive roots and huge, smooth-barked branches. Those in the city were smaller, manicured and tended. This was a grandfather of a tree. "It looks amazing here," she said in wonder, and this time without waiting, she clutched tight to saddle and his hand to slide gently down Aethon's hindquarters to land lightly in the grass. Walking up beneath it's branches, she stared skyward, running a hand over a low-hanging branch as big around as she was. She unslung her pack and dropped it at the foot of the tree, reaching up to drape her arms around the branch and pull herself onto it, where she sat cross-legged against the trunk in the cool shade of the canopy. "How long are we able to stay?" She asked, glancing around from her perch. The place inspired her, she hoped she'd have time to play.

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Her laugh sounded, musical and light. "Don't say that. I'll never leave." She slid down from the thick branch as she noticed he was unloading the saddlebags, and went to help, not managing much, but grabbing a bag or two and piling it with the rest. It did not escape her notice the amount of bedding he had brought along, but she made no mention of it, and indeed she tried not to think about what that might entail. She knew enough of him now to believe he did not intend her ill. She set the last few items down and settled crosslegged on the pile of blankets. His jibe made her laugh again.

"I suppose you have a point, but that doesn't mean you'll get the shirt back, it's mine. Forever." She stuck her tongue out with a grin. "Anyway, not a whole lot of me to know, really. I'm a bit of a workaholic, I go to school and I play music," she laughed good-naturedly, the humor in her eyes of a self-depracating sort. She took the proferred bottle, removing the cork with effort and taking a sniff before sipping cautiously. It was quite good, and she had a few more sips. She was quiet a bit, not uncomfortably so, but more mulling over her words.

"I get that from my mom. She was quite an extraordinary woman, and my favorite person in the world," she smiled reminiscently, turning her head to look at Konstantine. "She died about four months ago." She had said so matter-of-factly, but the pain was there. She took another drink, wiped her lip with the back of her hand.

"I've been pretty lost without her, actually," she said, and it seemed to surprise her to say so. She looked out across the clearing, watching Aethon as he grazed nearby. "She was very sick, for a long time. She had cancer. Now, you think I play well? She was a master. She could pick up any instrument and play it like she was born with one in her hands. She taught me everything I know."

She gave herself a shake and chuckled, but there was not much humor to the sound. "Listen to me, getting all depressing. I didn't mean to turn this into a eulogy." The wine was making her light-headed and her stomach groaned. "You said something about food earlier. I think that might be a good idea. I don't often drink," she grinned, apologetically, and handed back over the bottle.

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Though the connection was not made to her, Sophia did indeed have some help from the drink, allowing her to loosen up and talk about things she hadn't really discussed with anyone else. She was not a stranger to wine, even the occasional sip of beer, but she'd never been one to rely on it to cope, so the connection did not occur to her. She sat up as he stood to rummage in the cooler, and took the offerred bread bundled in the napkin. She tore a third of her portion away and dipped it in the oil and vinegar blend, using the other portion of bread to catch the drippings as she lifted the morsel to nibble on a corner.

The home-baked bread was delicious, soft and light, and absolutely heavenly paired with the oil. She leaned in to dip more, and laughed to see that his attempt to keep the drips out of his beard had failed. "You need a bib," she teased, dipping the second piece and nibbling at it. She rolled her eyes as she finished it, hearing his barrage of questions.

"I dunno, red? I like Tolkien and Stephen King and Terry Pratchett. I haven't seen any movies lately. I liked E.T." She finished the last of the bread, watching him get up and pluck the figs out of the tree branches. As he sat back down she plucked a couple off the top of his cache unasked, and as he began to ready them, she mimicked his motions to consume the fruit, having never eaten one herself.

"For composers...I like the classics, Beethoven and Mozart and Chopin. I like Gershwin, too. There are dozens really, too many to name. As for what I see in the clouds...well, that really depends on what I'm thinking about at the time. Usually animals, I guess." She quirked an eyebrow as no sooner had she answered his questions than he had more for her. This query brought another grin to her lips. "So soon thinking of the day we're apart?" she teased. "I'll have to wait until I'm good and sure you're lonesome for my company I think. I might require a serenade or two first, yes. Flowers, chocolates. A candlelit dinner in a fancy restaurant. Poems dedicated to my beauty." She laughed as her list grew more ludicrous as it became more and more obvious - if it hadn't been already - that she was joking.

"I think that's some six or seven questions. Your turn. How long have you been away from home? Is this your first deployment? Where did they send you?"

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I've busted bones, broken stones, looked the devil in the eye
I hope he's going to break these chains, oh yeah

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"Just over a year....I can't imagine being away from home that long." She shrugged. "Well, away from my family. Home was always where Mom was. We were on the road a lot, when I was a kid, travelling in one of those RVs loaned out by her agent's company." She smiled, remembering times when she'd been a holy terror on those trips, bouncing around the back while her mother scolded her from the cabin to sit down and buckle up. "I'd consider it a good thing there was no need for you to leave for any other reason, though. For one we'd have not met otherwise, and for another...well. I'm just glad there are no major wars right now."

She watched him pluck at the strings, the sound pleasant even if there was no real melody. Most of her own compositions started such, which was both a blessing and a curse, as she could hardly ever play them the same way twice. "Nothing wrong with a good dime store western. I've not seen many horror films. It's too bad you're only home temporarily, it would be fun to have a night to sit down and watch them with some popcorn. Especially will Halloween only a couple months away."

She shook her head, affecting a false haughty look as she stared down her nose with eyes half-closed, the snobbish rich-woman look completely ludicrous on her face. "A fireside dinner and mountain flowers? I think not. I demand the most exquisite restaurant in town, where the wine alone costs more than a house and your first-born child, and the finest roses grown in a greenhouse carved from diamonds and watered with the purest glacier-melt water from the highest peaks of Finland, filtered through hand-spun silk, each petal lovingly kissed by a virgin before it is plucked from the vine." The face broke as she snorted laughter. "Ouch, that actually hurt." She rubbed at her aching eyebrows, and worked her jaw of its cramped muscles. "As for pen and paper, I have some in my bag. I brought my inks and sketching charcoal, in case something caught my eye. So not having pen and paper is no excuse. Now, you said something about chocolates, I will be very disappointed if they do not make an appearance." She stuck her tongue out, and plucked at the last bit of fig, gesturing for his canteen, not to drink from, but to rinse the sticky juice from her hands.

Once clean and dry, Sophia picked up the bouzouki from where Konstantine set it down and ran a hand lightly over the well-varnished wood, admiring the inlays. She could tell at an instant that this was a treasure, not just as an heirloom, but in its make. Exquisite detail had been put into its construction, and it had been well-cared for over its lifetime. shallow grooves worked into the wood grain down the back of the neck from long years of use, worked into it by countless hands. She plucked at the strings, smiling in appreciation at the full tenor of its sound. "Would you mind?" she queried, seeking his approval before starting to play in earnest. Much as she would enjoy a serenade from him, an instrument could hardly come beneath her nose but that she must play it. She began to pluck out a melody, her eyes closing in appreciation. It was a traditional melody, but somehow had far more soul to it, the character of the strings themselves flowing outward as she played.

As the song concluded, she leaned back against the tree with a satisfied smile and passed the instrument back to him. "That is a real treasure. I'm quite jealous."

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"Well, if that's your ambition, go for it. I'm not one to rain on anyone's dreams, I had enough of that from people growing up, telling me it wasn't a sound option to make a career of music and art, even though they know full well that it's exactly what Mom did. But I suppose I might miss you a little bit while you were away in the army." She eyed the cigarette as he lit up though, and frowned a bit at the bad habit. She gladly took the figs from him, snacking on them.

"Well that's pretty cool. Yeah, I'd like to go, I haven't been to the movies in ages." She smiled at the prospect. She'd heard a few people talking about the movie, and it sounded pretty interesting. She intentionally avoided the implication he was making, concentrating instead on the deepening color in Konstantine's cheeks, a slow grin spreading across her cheeks. As he turned away from her and dug around in the cooler, the grin widened, a sparkle of mischief shining in her eyes. As he held out the chocolate for her, she leaned in, and plucked it right out of his fingers with her lips.

She straightened, slowly chewing on the treat and sighing her appreciation for its flavor. "I've had cordials before, but not like these. Thank you."

She took one more, savoring it as she got up to get her pack. She flopped back down crosslegged beside him, pulling open the drawstring closure and pulling out a rather thick binder protecting a bundle of several different types of paper. She riffled through these. "Alright, what kind of work are you doing? Journaling, drawing, ink, paints? A little of everything?" She dug around in the bag and pulled out a long pencil case, popping it open to reveal numerous pencils, chunks of graphite and charcoal, paintbrushes, dip-pens, bottles of ink in various colors, and watercolors. She glanced up expectantly, ready to pass over the appropriate supplies. She, too, had a mind to sketch the glorious ancient old fig tree, herself.

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Sophia smiled and rifled through the blank pages, and it became obvious there were a few different varieties, some thick and rough, some thin and fragile, and even some plain lined notebook paper. She slid a few plain sheets out and handed them over, along with a thick piece of heavy cardboard for him to bear down on, along with a couple of pencils. "Here you go." She smiled, quite happy to be here, with someone who enjoyed the arts as much as she did. That he would sit and sing and play music and draw with her meant more than anything else, and her contentment was more than obvious. As she drew out her own supplies, she hummed to herself, spreading a sheet out on the binder and selecting a pencil to start with. "I think so. But it's hard to say. I might have to change the types of music I do. It seems jazz and classical music are not so popular anymore. I could probably do alright in a band of some kind, but I'd have to find a label." She tilted her head in thought, pressing the eraser end of her pencil against her chin. "Security would most definitely be welcome. I'm taking applications if you know a guy," she said with a grin, before settling in to put pencil to paper.

From there, she immersed herself in the work, oblivious to pretty much anything but the canvas before her. From time to time she'd glance up, resting her head against the tree as she gazed at the towering branches overhead, but beyond that, her head remained bowed, focused so intently on her work that she did not notice her mouth hung slightly open, lips parted. By the time Konstantine asked how her work was going, she had outlined the base line of her work, the trunk and branches, the gnarled roots, and a rough outline of a figure seated at it's base. "Pretty good, I think. It's nearly ready for ink." She pulled out her own water bottle and took a long drink, setting the pencils aside and picking up the dip pen, unscrewing an ink bottle. She glanced up, distracted, and it took her a few moments to process his words.

"Oh alright. Enjoy your nap." She watched him disappear over the low wall, then bent over her work once more. It would, unfortunately, be another hour and a half before she would resurface from her work, stretching to relieve the cramps in her shoulders and back. The page had evolved by then into a full-color ink painting. She had diluted the inks in places with water, leaving an almost watercolor-esque feel to it. The ancient tree towered over Konstantine where he sat at the base, bent over the bouzouki as the figure played. she set it aside for the inks to dry, took another swig of water, and went to wake him. She stepped around the wall, somewhat uncertain, and knelt next to him, touching lightly on his shoulder with a gentle shake. "Konstantine? Did you sleep long enough? I'd like to walk those goat paths you spoke of."

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Sophia startled, jerking backward as he snatched at her arm, her own eyes going wide in surprise. She relaxed as he loosened his grip, releasing a breath she hadn't realized she'd held. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." She backed off a little to give him room to sit up, and sat crosslegged beside him as he lit up another cigarette. "That's a bad habit, you know. Terrible for your lungs."

She watched him, concern in her eyes for the obvious discomfort he was in, but said nothing. It did not seem so out-of-ordinary to her, not yet, though some niggling connection was being made between daylight and his seeming weakness. She smiled at his suggestion. "I'll go grab our bottles and refill them while you wake. Some more figs would be good too, I think."

She gathered the items, filling the water first and tucking his canteen and her bottle into her bag, along with cleaning all the brushes and pens and packing them away carefully as well. She lay the bag in the roots of the tree, climbing into the high branches to harvest an armful of figs to bring along. She leapt lightly down as Konstantine was loading the pistol. "Perhaps. I've never shot a gun before, I'd not mind giving it a try."

She followed him down the path, at ease in the early afternoon, enjoying the rather leisurely pace they took through the wilds. She paused often, admiring various points of interest, the gleam of sunlight on a mountain stream, a wide meadow of long grasses rippling in the breeze. She laughed and joked and conversed with him easily, growing more and more fond of his company, and finding the tidbits he shared about the local area fascinating.

The lost goats made her somewhat nervous, but she allowed Konstantine to lead them back to their home, and even managed to get close enough to pat one on the head as they led them back to their herd. She became oddly polite in the company of the herdsmen and his family, her responses friendly, but formal, to the old woman's questions. It was quite obvious that their questioning made her just as uncomfortable as it did Konstantine. The lunch they prepared was delicious, and when the meal was done, she thanked them sincerely.

When at last they departed, and made their way toward the mountaintop, her tension eased away, and she was once more animated, joking, and talkative. There on the mountaintop, she sat crosslegged, gazing out across the long expanse of forest and field and sea spread out before them, rather at a loss for words. She pulled the notebook full of paper out of her bag once again, grabbing a chunk of graphite. It took only a few minutes of frantic scratching to design a quick sketch of the scenery before them. "I would agree. I love the ethereal glow of the last rays of sunlight on the world. It's almost like a veil of light lies across the world, blurring the lines between heaven and earth."

Her smile was serene, but something of a hesitant look came across her features, almost as though she were embarrassed or cautious to share this belief with him. "And it seems to me when the sun sets, the veil lifts back into the sky and makes the stars shine. I think next to the sunset, the starlight is my favorite sight in the whole world."

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