(no subject)

[lastgunslinger]

Roland is kneeling by the DVD player.

"Sit wherever you'd like."

This thrown over his shoulder as he pulls the disc out of its case.

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[lastgunslinger]

"Tuco was right," says Roland calmly.

He crouches by River's side. "You saw the way he did it? Always paying attention. Watching. Looking for his chance. Thinking around corners. And yet sometimes it was ka that saved him."

Pause.

"He was a bastard, and he was my good friend, and stood with me when he didn't have to do so -- when it would have been safer for him to keep to himself. He got the horn for me, when he didn't have to. And this is part of his tale."

The cigar smoke is heavy on the air, and sweet. Roland's eyes never leave River's.

"You saw. You learned. This is why we tell stories. To learn." His hand rises to rest on the side of her face. "Yours is only beginning. Do you understand?"

[river_meimei]

She looks down, and her face works, a little. One expression chasing the next too fast to be quite read, as she sometimes does.

She nods, against his palm.

[lastgunslinger]

He lets his hand linger for a moment. "It is very well."

And then he stands.

"Your brother will be wondering where you are."

He'll clean up the popcorn later.

[river_meimei]

Her eyes are on the tv, again.

She may or may not be seeing it.

[lastgunslinger]

"River." Quietly. "Will you look at me?"

[river_meimei]

She will.

[lastgunslinger]

Still quiet.

"It's the way of things. The world doesn't matter. This is what you have. Make do."

[river_meimei]

"Improvise."

Her eyes close, briefly, and her gaze slews away again.

"She knows. Everybody's gotta."

[lastgunslinger]

Roland goes to the window.

He closes it.

"Enough for tonight."

He won't ever tell her directly to go find Simon, to leave him alone. Never again.

[river_meimei]

She looks down, and her head bends; it might be a nod, or it might only be incidental motion.

It's a few minutes more before she uncurls, and stands. Popcorn drifts from her skirt to the rug. Her hair tumbles around her face. She pushes it back with one hand, absently, and doesn't seem to care when it falls immediately forward again.

[lastgunslinger]

Roland comes to stand in front of her, arms folded.

"All right?"

[river_meimei]

A small twitch of an almost-smile, more in her eyes than her mouth.

"All right."

A little more of a smile. "He cut the rope."

[lastgunslinger]

"Many times. And not just for Tuco. For me as well."

[river_meimei]

Not for Shorty.

But she doesn't say that, if she thinks it. Nods, instead.

[lastgunslinger]

It's been a long night. And these are hard lessons.

Necessary, though.

Roland picks up the cigar in the ashtray and holds it.

[river_meimei]

The faint smile is back, at the sight of the cigar with his weathered face and faded blue eyes.

"It's a present."

She turns, and takes a step towards the door. Simon will be wondering.

[lastgunslinger]

Roland nods.

His eyes glitter.

He closes the door behind her, and goes to stand at the window to finish the cigar.

He doesn't know what he's watching for.