Rating: Mmm...I'd say PG for violence and language. Hell, she is an Amazon. Oh, and seems Professor got a bit happy with the tea Summary: Another is come. :)
The first light of dawn slitted through the window, throwing lazy patterns on the sleeping Amazon's face. She squinted her eyes at the too-bright light, stifling a yawn as she sleepily roused herself to conciousness. Clutching the thin blanket to her body and drawing it up to her chin, she turned over in the small cot. A ceramic shatter bolted her awake, and she blinked in the haze of morning. She shook her head, then pulled the covers off herself and reluctantly rose to investigate the source of the crash.
She peered around the corner of the two-room shelter, into the makeshift kitchen. He was crouched on the floor, attempting to sweep up shards of what had been a mug. Her shadow caused him to glance up. "I've been up for awhile, and was making tea," he explained sheepishly. He rose, brushing his hands free of the dust, and cheerfully inquired, "So what's next? You up for breakfast?" He smiled happily. "I was about to cook some eggs and rabbit sausage from last night's dinner," he continued. He was animated, and his well-rested appearance belied the mere 4 hours of sleep he had likely received the previous night.
She snorted. Figures he's a morning person, she thought in disgust. "That sounds fine," she replied wearily. She shook her head to clear it of the cobwebs in her brain, and yawned slightly, disguising the action with a hand. She gave a crooked smile back at his enthusiasm, eyes glazed over and lined with shadows.
She walked with effort over to the pantry tucked next to the sink. She pumped cool water into a speckled mug, drinking thirstily, then wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and stumbled, bleary-eyed, over to the sink.
She carefully filled the basin partway with ice-cold water. Taking a deep breath, she plunged her head into the freezing liquid, teeth chattering even underwater. She threw her head back upon surfacing, splattering water onto the wooden floor, and shook vigorously. Her eyes opened wide, lashes framed by the droplets of water that clung to them. She sneezed, once, then repeated the act. He stood by silently, observing her repeat this obvious ritual four or five more times, then grabbed a piece of cloth and handed it too her.
"Brr," she exclaimed exaggeratedly, smiling. She took the soft cloth, grateful for its warmth and dryness, and patted her face upon its length.
"Well, that'll wake you up," he remarked dryly. She looked up at him, face partially obscured by the cloth, and winked. Then she cleared her throat.
"We got anything to eat around here?" she asked.
He affected exasperation. "Well, if you'd listened to me--" She cast a warm smile "--you would have heard I was trying to make breakfast from leftover rabbit and a few eggs that just happened to be lying around outside." She peered over his shoulder. There were seven or eight small round eggs nestled in a porcelain bowl. She frowned, eyebrows drawn, then smirked when she recognized the eggs.
"Just happened to be lying around? I think I know duck eggs when I see them. Where in Tartarus did you happen to 'find' these? The only ducks around here lay their eggs in--" She abruptly closed her mouth.
Now it was his turn to smirk. "Trees. I am aware of that." She chuckled, then winced, grasping her leg. "Ooh." Limping back to her cot, she tried to remove the binding from her foot, but her attempt was stalled by a gentle pressure on her knee.
"It's all right, lie back down," he told her. She reluctantly obeyed. He grabbed a clean length of cloth, then sat next to her, settling th injured foot on top of his leg. Raising her foot slowly, so as not to jar it, he unwound the bandage that bound her ankle, setting the blood-stained fabric to one side.
She propped herself up on her elbows to get a better view, and was mildly pleased at the results. Her foot was healing well...if she was lucky there would only be slight scarring as evidence. The once-ugly gash was mending, and she could almost feel her bones knitting. She might even be able to leave the remains of her burnt village in a few days, but she wasn't counting on it.
Wait a minute, she thought. Leave? To where? I guess I could find another tribe, she mused reluctantly. The idea of wandering from tribe to tribe, depending on their charity, was distasteful, to say the least. Besides, she thought, no self-respecting Amazon would want me in their tribe, she reminded herself wistfully, screwing up her eyes when he accidentally brushed against her wound. U can't even defend myself properly, she continued. My sisters died because of me.
She began pulling out every bit of guilt and self-pity she possessed. Memories flooded back--the time she nearly drowned as a teenager and had to be pulled out of the river; her first hunt, and the looks of alternate scorn and pity her elders gave her when all she came back with was a single juvenile squirrel; her numerous failed attempts at learning the art of weaving, and her instructor finally giving up and telling her point-blank in front of her classmates she needn't bother anymore, she was never going to master even basic basketwork. And, of course, the final battle, her life summed up in the total obliteration of her tribe--dying to defend her, all because she was utterly useless, and incompetant, and--
She hadn't realized it, but tears were slowly, silently dripping down her face, as she stared blankly up at the ceiling. She was only aware of a slight flush that pricked her face, stinging her eyes. Blinking a few times, she wiped the back of her hand under her nose, gazing foggily at the clear moisture trailing over it. Oh yuck. Suddenly concious of her appearance, she shook her head briskly.
He leaned towards her, one hand gently resting on her upper calf. "Would you like to talk about it?" he inquire softly.
She gave a wan smile. "No, thank you," she replied hoarsly. "I appreciate your concern, but...no." Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the wall stationed level to the bed. Then she just rested. Curling up in a small ball, she sobbed quietly, finally giving vent to her grief.
Harsh, strangled cries fell from her lips, mind aching, throbbing, as he held her shaking body silently. She whimpered softly, convulsing in sheer reaction to her roiling emotions. Her mind reeled. Oh gods, oh gods...Gulping huge breaths of air, choking on her own tears, her mouth split in a half-scream, cut off only when she bit the back of her hand. Eventually she grew exhausted from the crying jag, hippcuping and sniffling her way down from it.
His hand caressed the back of her head, fingers combing through the slippery-smooth hair. She heaved deep breaths and, finally coming to her sensibilities, looked around for a light piece of cloth to blow her nose on. One such piece suddenly danced in front of her, and she blinked, startled, until she realized he was holding it out in front of her. She accepted it silently, and blew noisily on it.
Her face was puffy-eyed and blotchy, with clear traces of the dried tears she had shed. He smiled at her, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face and tucking it behind one ear. A corner of her mouth lifted apologetically, then she looked down at the now-clean bandages, wrapped and knotted in a neat, precise row. She flicked her gaze back to his face, noting the amused, half-tender twinkle in his eyes, and returned the smile, with a lesser degree of enthusiasm.
She spoke, her voice cracked and low. "Did you mention you had duck eggs?"
He broke into a crooked smile. "Yeah. They are sitting next to the basin, boiled. I will go get them for you." He arose noiselessly and stepped through the doorway. She heard small scuffles as he was obviously collecting dishes and silverware, then he returned with freshly steaming whole eggs nestled in porcelain cups, bookended by the savory brown meat of rabbit sausage.
She thanked him, giving her unwavering eye contact, and twirled sausage onto her fork, tasting. Biting down, she was pleasantly surprised at the taste. Not a culinary masterpiece, to be sure, but more than edible, and considering what they had it was very good. Her tastebuds were slightly stunted from the tears she had shed, but they were intact enough to appreciate the delicate flavor he had somehow injected into the plain meat of yesterday. She blinked in surprise. Damn, he's a good cook. And to think I didn't want him anywhere near the stove yesterday. She smiled wryly. I guess I'll just have to ask him to stay awhile. Oh, come on Ser, she chided herself. Admit it. You're getting fond of your pet professor. He's staying anyway. As if either of you have anywhere else to go, she reminded herself. After all...Oh, don't go down that road again...we're not going to get all soft on him now. Pull yourself together, dammit, if you wanna survive. Either of you. She squared her shoulders unconciously. But he noticed, and smiled.
She began on the egg. Of course, it was good too--again, not perfect, but still enjoyable, given the circumstances. She polished her breakfast off quickly and rose to make tea, when she found a steaming cup pressed into her hand. She held it to her nose, and a corner of her mouth lifted. Blackberry, with dandelion petals mixed in. The flavor of the pollen added a sweet contrast to the tartness of the small dark fruits. Raising it to her lips, she tasted. Smooth, with a deilghtful mix of sweet and tangy. She swallowed, enjoying the warmth that spread down her throat, then realized that some of that warmth was not due entirely to the temperature of the tea alone.
"You spiked the tea!" she accused, unable to keep an approving tone out of her voice. What the hell, after this day I'd like to get good and drunk. He held up his hand and placed a small space between his thumb and forefinger. "Just a little, for taste."
"Taste my ass. I knew you couldn't be all honor and principle." Now her tone grew harder. "What's your trip, anyway? Don't like me sober, so you figured you could get an Amazon drunk, have a good story to tell your friends?" Whoa, where'd that come from? Easy, Ser.
He shook his head. "I honestly had no intention of taking advantage of your...vulnerable state." Which was ironic, because at the moment she was anything but vulnerable. She was now reaching for the knife tucked safely in her pouch, planning for...well, she would soon find out.
She smirked. "Then why did you spike the tea?" Her hand closed around the handle of the dagger, poised to strike, her intentions obscured by the blanket draped over her stomach.
"I thought you might enjoy relaxing after yesterday," he replied quietly. "I realize it was very stressful for you, and you didn't seem inclined to additional physical contact."
"Oh." She relaxed her hold on the dagger. The tea was good, at any rate, and there didn't seem to be enough intoxicants in it to leave her utterly out of control. Besides, since she was concious of the 'secret ingredient', she could decide not to drink too much of it. She picked up the still-steaming cup, and took a sip, eyes locked on him suspiciously.
It was still very good, the tart taste of the blackberry unhindered by the additional herbs laced in the tea. Still, she went into the kitchen and pumped a tiny bit of water into the cup, to weaken the effects. No offense Professor, she thought, but I take no chances.
After polishing off the tea, she rinsed the cup and called over her shoulder to him, "Going hunting, be back in a few hours."
"Ok," he replied absently, still drinking the spiked tea. She walked over to him and gently pried the cup from his hands. "No more," she said firmly, but with an affectionate ring to her voice, and dumped the remaining contents into the heavy black kettle. Supressing a smile, she made her way across the wooden floorboards, opening the door to the shelter and stepping outside into the fresh morning air. The warmth of the sun hit her back, and she drank in the cool flavor of the sharply scented grass, forgetting for a moment the pain that had brought her to this place.
Taking a deep breath, she eased into the alter position she would need for hunting. Pricking her ears at the rustling among the bushes, she cocked her head towards the source of the noise, filtering unnecessary sounds through her subconcious--the wind, birdcalls, and a fat bee buzzing in clover--to focus on...
Her nose wrinkled. A medium-sized animal, with a distinct black-and-white pattern and a flat bushy tail, was ambling along, snuffling at grubs and clumps of wet leaves. She replaced the dagger she had drawn, and sighed. A skunk. Unappetizing under even desperate circumstances, which they certainly weren't in. She could do better. A lot better.
Shaking her head, she clutched the handle of the dagger again and resumed her search. She wasn't really hungry, but assumed they both would be later on. A yellow butterfly weaved erratically past her nose, brushing her hair. The wind moaned.
Suddenly her body froze, acquiring a queer tingling sensation. That isn't the wind, she thought. She listened again. Again came the sound--a low pitched cry, followed by a faint rustling of the leaves directly ahead of her. Gripping her dagger, she stealthily crossed the gap between herself and the occupied brush. Parting the leaves, she simply stared.
Mabenti, her mind automatically supplied for her. Her sister Amazon, and second-in-command to the Queen. Her heart leapt at the sight of a fellow Amazon, but the joy was quickly erased when she noticed the arrow shaft buried into the petite dark woman's shoulder. Blood liberally poured from the wound, and seemed an almost too-bright red to be real. Oh gods, she thought. Mab, I've got to get you to help.
She gently touched the half-concious woman on the uninjured arm sprawled parallel to her torso. The eyes fluttered open, revealing the dark brown iris. "Ser," she said with a thick tongue, smiling weakly. "Nice to see you."
"Shh, it's Ok," Serbindi replied soothingly. "Mab, I've got to move you. I know someone who can help you, but I have to take you to him, and it's gonna hurt." She hesitated. "Can you put your arm around me?"
The Amazon clenched her jaw, and hissed, "I think so."
"If you want to lean on me, that's fine," assured Serbindi.
"Ser, it's my shoulder that's diced. I'm perfectly capable of walking," Mabenti joked faintly. The auburn Amazon merely cocked an eyebrow, and helped her sister to her feet.
They slowly made their way back to the shelter not too far off, Serbindi supporting Mabenti occasionally. Before they reached their goal, Mabenti suddenly asked, "Wait a minute. Did you say he is going to heal me? Who's he? And why aren't we seeing a woman healer? Where's the rest of the--" She stopped at the slight motion in Serbindi's jaw. "Oh," she simply stated in a small voice. "I see."
Serbindi sighed. "You're the only other person I've seen prior to the battle--and that was purely by accident. I broke my ankle, and he helped set it," she continued reflectively. "I don't know how he was involved, only that he's capable of healing...and a little cooking," she added with a crooked grin.
When they reached the door, the taller Amazon opened it and Mabenti lowered shakily onto the bed. Serbindi gave a piercing whistle.
He appeared at the door, obviously irritated at her manner of getting his attention. "What's going--" Noticing the still form on the bed, all traces of annoyance vanished. He turned questioningly to her, eyebrows lifted high.
"She's my sister, survived the attack, arrow got her, she needs help," Serbindi filled in briefly in an agitated tone. "Make a fire," she ordered, "and place a metal poker in it. We need to cauterize the wound." He readily complied, lighting the stove and placing a one-inch-thick iron rod into the flames, then turned.
He walked up to the prone Amazon, who was breathing heavily with a thin sheen of sweat covering the tan skin. He looked at her face closely. Her eyes were closed, but she didn't appear frightened, or panicked. Just calm, and patiently waiting for the inevitable. She opened her round dark eyes, and gazed back steadily at him. "Just take it out," she requested quietly. "Have you ever removed an arrow before?" He shook his head.
Serbindi volunteered, "I have, I can take it out Mab." The small Amazon nodded towards her. "All right. One quick motion."
The arrow was twisted at a grotesque angle, protruding from smooth skin. The dark blood congealing around the opening of the wound made her tan skin appear pale and sickly. Serbindi didn't know how many hours, or even days it had been imbedded in the lieutenant's body, and she didn't want to. She just wanted it over with.
She suspected from the Amazon's shallow breathing that she felt the same way. Mabenti was lying almost-flat on the bed, propping herself up onto her elbows to prevent the shaft from tearing her skin more than necessary. She slowly rose to normal sitting position, legs straight out in front of her, and felt a gentle hand on her back. Then fiery pain as Serbindi snapped the feathered end. She screamed.
The scream shattered Serbindi's ears, and she winced knowing she was causing the petite Amazon so m=uch pain. She slowly pushed the shaft through in one single motion, beads of sweat pricking her forehead as Mabenti's cries rattled the windows. Then she felt a sudden gush of warmth onto her palm, and looked down in surprise at her blood-covered hand.
Removing the poker from the stove, she plunged it into the wound, creating hissing smoke as it was sealed off. Mabenti tossed her head on the pillow, incoherant in her pain. She then drew the iron out, sweat dripping in her eyes.
She quickly signalled him for bandages, but he was ahead of her, and pointed them out next to Mabenti's leg. She grabbed them, and tied off the wound efficiently, not forgetting the crisp bow in the center. Then she took another close look at her patient.
The dark Amazon was lying motionless on the bed, her breathing slowing, then stilled. Gradually her body relaxed, though the sharp pain did not lessen, and opened her eyes to see Serbindi and a strange man gazing at her, the former kindly, the latter thoughtfully. Her heavy lids closed, and she eased into a welcome deep sleep.
Serbindi turned her head towards him. “She’s passed out from the pain,” she whispered, though he obviously knew that already. He nodded, and moved for a blanket to cover the injured woman. Gathering a small coarse throw, he shook it out, and it billowed atop the sleeping form.
She sat down on the other cot, fingers tracing familiar paths over her temples. The excitement and exhaustion of the day was wearing on her, and the pure adrenaline she had been riding on previously was starting to sap from her body, carrying with it her strength. She was now running on pure willpower and cussedness. Gods Mab, what the hell
happened to lodge that arrow into you? And, briefly, she touched upon her guilt at imposing on her semi-guest once again...as him being on her burnt village made her consider him as sort of a guest. Ai-ya, some host I’ve been, she thought. Queen Kalidasa must be rolling in her grave.
She thought momentarily about the Queen, now certainly deceased after the raid. Tall and thin, with flowing blonde hair and ice-cold blue eyes, she appeared every inch the regal figure she had assumed herself to be. Remembering the almost Nationwide opposal to Kalidasa assuming the Mask, she recalled the astronomical odds the fair Amazon had
passed, and beaten the former Queen, Iovanna, in the Royal Challenge. Iovanna was a wise and fair ruler, middle-aged but still strong in battle. Much talk had followed her defeat surrounding the circumstances of her death, during her exhile from the tribe, and
most of that talk revolved around suspicion placed squarely on their new Queen.
Kalidasa had only been Queen for 6 months, and though strong individually in battle, was a weak strategist, and was, Serbindi reflected suddenly, probably the one responsible for the ease of the tribe’s defeat.
The hand on her shoulder broke her reverie. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly.
What’s with this guy’s concern for my feelings? she thought irritably. "I’m fine," she replied, sharper than she intended. "I’m an Amazon, that’s my job," she added, joking to soften her tone. "Just thinking about the Queen...she was kinda a bitch."
Her vulgarity elicited no reaction from him. "How so?" he asked, in the same soft voice. She sighed.
"Well, she kicked out the old queen, whom pretty much everyone liked, by beating her in the Royal Challenge," she explained. "It’s kinda like, if someone wants to fight you for the Mask of Queenhood, and they win, you’re put into exhile by the rest of the tribe. Used to be you were just killed, but that’s considered barbaric now," she noted sarcastically.
"Anyway, I’m pretty sure the new Queen, who was a right stuck up snot, younger than me in fact, was responsible for the poorly designed battle plan that lead to the village being torched." She spoke frankly, bitter over the whole situation.
"Ah," he replied, not commenting, just offering quiet consolement at what had
obviously been a very painful situation. There was a long, not uncomfortable silence, then
he stated, "I should probably give her some of the same tea I gave you...it also acts as a
mild painkiller. I wish there were more herbs around here I was familiar with, but..."
She waved off his apologies. "It’s all right, we should let her sleep anyway, her body needs the rest." She paused. "Hell of a morning."
He chuckled in agreement. Outside the wind was picking up, chilling and dampening the dusk-swept clouds into darkess. She glanced out the window, as the predicted rain lightly pattered onto the sandy soil. "Gods, it’s not even noon yet, and it’s raining
already," she sighed. She brushed her hands on her skirt and rose from the cot, slipping the dagger that lay on the night-table into the pouch fitted at her hip. Rain or not, she still had to go hunting, as that morning’s little expedition had picked up no food, only Mabenti.
"I’m going out again," she informed him. He contemplated the overcast sky as it dropped rain from its bowers, then raised an eyebrow at her. "I don’t care what the weather’s like. I need to gather food. That rabbit was fine for one day, between two
people, but now that I’ve got three to take care of, supplies need to be larger and gathered
more often."
He nodded, then rose to stand next to her. Seeming to hesitate, he asked, "Do you mind if I join you?"
She looked up in surprise, then flicked her gaze to the unconcious body lying motionless on the bed. "Are you sure she’ll be safe here, alone?" she asked uncertainly.
"She is suffering from extreme exhaustion, and likely will not awaken for at least half a
day," he responded.
Serbindi frowned. "I wasn’t thinking of that," she admitted. "I meant from intruders. I
wonder if any of the surviving raiders would return and attack her when she’s vulnerable."
"Hmm. I should think not. She should be safe here," he replied.
"All right," she conceded. If they stayed within view of the shelter, not going too far and disappearing into the woods, they should be able to monitor Mabenti and keep her safe. Her mouth twitched at the thought of Mabenti’s reaction to being protected. She knew the petite Amazon would have a fit, but there really wasn’t much choice in the
matter. Mab’s not going to be very happy, she thought, but then neither am I. Amazons
are the worst patients. She knew from personal experience. When a friend of hers had broken her ankle--on a hunting expedition, and none too successful at that--she had been forcibly bedridden for a week, and made it vocal that she was none too pleased with the arrangement. Fayla had finally persuaded the healer to let her out a couple days early--and promptly refractured the bone at the first step.
She sighed at the memory, and walked across to the door, opening it and motioning for him to go outside. He did so, catching the edge of the door at the last moment and widening it for her. She shook her head and simply walked out.
The rain was pelting down now, rippling the soft grass and spraying her face with chill moisture. Small puddles of water pooled around her ankles, and she paused, taking in her surroundings and the direction of the whistling wind, then trudged through the icy liquid, splashing her boots with mud. He followed her, his cloak soaking up the rain that lashed from the skies. She paced towards the woods, stopping at the border between trees and field, and silently, watchfully absorbed her surroundings while armed with the sharp dagger that glinted wet streaks from the late morning storm.
She sighed. "I don’t think this is going anywhere."
He was beside her. "You don’t think what’s going where?"
She swivelled her head to face him. "It’s raining too hard, all the prey is in hiding. I don’t think I’ll be able to find anything, unless I flush it." She turned her attention back to the woods. "Looks like we’ll have to do vegetarian tonight, my friend."
He smiled down on her, though her back was facing him. He didn’t know when he had earned the position of "friend", up from "person who isn’t trying to kill me, so I guess it’s safe to be around him." He felt it was an honor she bestowed on few people.
She glanced back at him. He was just standing there, staring at her with a strange expression on his face that made her vaguely uncomfortable, though she couldn’t pinpoint the exact source of her discomfort. "Come on," she called, moving deeper into the thick
brush. Another smile flickered across his face, and he followed