she's walking on water when she walks in her sleep

The room was quiet. The only sounds were those of the fire, and the scratchings of Callas' quill. Riyor was sitting astride his chair, his arms and chin resting on its back. Strawberries was on the other side of the room, hugging her knees. She was staring into the fire, her head tilted and resting on her knees.

Gaius, Galvin and Gavio had been cheerfully recapping the recent battle, with Tamsin making suitably impressed noises at strategic moments. However, this had slowly wound down as they realised something was wrong; Riyor and Strawberries both seemed preoccupied. Seeing as Riyor had just recently disposed of one of his many fabled lives in a particularly spectacular fashion, his silence was unusual. Surviving big explosions just made him, well, happy. Seeing a big explosion from the inside was merely an added bonus. Committing suicide by overdosing on fireball potions (whilst being sucked dry by an ancient vampire) wasn't something you got to do every day, after all.

Tamsin didn't know the party very well, but it didn't take her long to realise something was happening. Everyone had withdrawn into their own private worlds. The fire crackled quietly to itself and spread its warmth through the room. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, but it was deep.

The wooden lid of the sandbox made a soft and very distinct click as Callas set it down. Riyor watched her sifting the sand onto her recently completed journal entry. He sighed silently, slipped off the chair and padded over to Strawberries. She turned her head and looked at him with liquid eyes. He leant forward slightly and captured a hand gently.

"Jacta alea est, My Lady," he said quietly. "I think that life has a sneaky habit of giving you back more of what you have put into it. On the whole, I think that this is a good thing. Forgive me, but I think that this particular turnabout is a most fair play, and you may yet appreciate it."

He caught her other hand with his free hand, and brought his hands together between them, looking down into widening eyes.

"You know where I stood before, My Lady. Know well that I stand there still."

He squeezed her hands for a moment and released them. "If you want or need anything, I'll be in my room," he said quietly. He nodded absently at the rest of the party and noiselessly left the room.

---
[Note: "Jacta alea est" means "The die is cast"]
---

There was a light knock on the door. Riyor looked up from dagger he was sharpening. "Come in," he called. The door cracked open and Strawberries stuck her head in through the door and looked around.

"Hi," she said, entering and closing the door behind her.

"Hello. Take a seat." Riyor waved vaguely at the foot of the bed, and shifted to make more room. Strawberries walked over and hesitantly perched on the end of the bed. Riyor looked at her for a moment, and put the dagger and stone back in their sheathes. He sat cross-legged and gripped his ankles with hands. "Yes?"

Strawberries separated a lock of her hair and played with it. "So who am I to you, exactly?"

"Ah," said Riyor, letting out a breath of air, "You are Aine, the person responsible for the maintenance of the God Aspects of Love, Travel, and Luck."

Strawberries ducked her head and nibbled contemplatively on her lock of hair for a moment. "And, um, Strawberries?"

"Strawberries," said Riyor carefully, "is one of your public personas, a mercenary dragon known for her negotiable morality."

Strawberries' turned, her eyes flashing and hard, and her mouth opened.

"Peace, My Lady," interrupted Riyor, "I have been your agent for almost two centuries, and the persona Strawberries is encompassed within Aine, but I have seen more that I like in Aine than in Strawberries. If there is more to Strawberries than that, please forgive me for not seeing it in the limited time I have had." He sighed and shifted position slightly. He looked down at his feet. "I have furthered your goals, because, well, because I wasn't given much choice initially, but also because I eventually decided that I liked the way you did what you had to do."

He sat up and leaned forward, his eyes showing a focussed passion, his elbows locked straight, his voice even and strong, his gaze locking hers. "You make people love, which means you make them feel pain too, because they care about something. You disrupt people's lives with luck and adversity. You make them experience life instead of merely observing it. You make life a journey. And you do it your way."

Strawberries' eyes were wide, and slowly softened into sadness. She looked down at the lock of hair in her hand. "So," she said quietly, "I am your God, or at least, I was."

Riyor grinned. "Oh, never that, My Lady. I am a willing conspirator that trusts your actions, perhaps. I would still be tripping over everything and steadfastly be refusing to do anything worthwhile if I didn't like how you did things. I don't worship the Goddess of Luck and Love specifically. I just like your style." He leant back on one hand and waggled the other. "Technically you are strictly neutral, but I think you have a way of breaking the spirit of the whole neutrality thing. You have a sense of humour, and," he smiled lazily, "you seem to moonlight in the Justice sphere a bit."

Strawberries blushed and avoided his eyes. "Actually, I don't think anyone has ever complimented me on my work." She laughed and her voice snagged, dropping to a whisper, "Ironic since it's gone forever."

Riyor leant forward and snagged her nearest hand. "Never say forever, My Lady." He smiled and tilted his head. "I must confess I still suspect you of having a spare ace up your sleeve."

She looked at his hand. "It feels... strange, though", she whispered.

He watched her playing with his hand. "So why the sadness when you thought I had gone religious on you?"

Green eyes sparkled as she looked up through her red hair. "Oh come now. Do I have to draw you a picture?"

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