actionreaction: text: not so much writing as making a mess with a pen (connor)
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The last time Connor remembered crying before he left home was when the man who’d been raising him died. He’d been the son of Connor’s father best friend. The father had raised Connor for thirty years before he’d passed, and Connor had cried, still only a child in elven terms. His son continued raising the elf boy, he who’d been like Connor’s brother. But like his father, he too was human and grew old and died before Connor even reached his hundredth birthday. Connor was taken in by the owner of the town’s tavern, who after ten more years, let Connor start working there, to earn his keep.

Eight years later, Connor was out traveling with a wood elf ranger. And suddenly, Connor was crying all too frequently.

For too long, it didn’t occur to him that there was such a connection between being with Sadron, and the sheer number of times tears ran down either of their cheeks. They weren’t always happy tears. In fact more often than not, there were misunderstandings, horrible situations and painful moments that had the supposedly stronger, older elf’s eyes filling with tears. Watching one who should have been stronger than Connor break down with such frequency tore through Connor’s sensitive nature, had him crying in kind.

It still didn’t occur to him that this was not the way to be happy. Not until they learned the hard way lifebonding hadn’t worked. There was only one reason it could fail – if they two who were bonded weren’t truly in love. The thought of that hit Connor like a rock flung from a catapult, and he cried with Sadron the last time. No, not with him or for him. Just at the same time as him. They were tears of utter relief on Connor’s part.

He left then, knowing with impossible certainty, the next time tears slipped down his cheeks, they’d be tears of happiness.

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December 2016

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