Title: Cleansing Tears
and Soothing Fears
Author: Matriaya
Rating: K+, maybe T
A/N: As always, I
humbly bow to the genius of my beta, Midget in High Heels. The title
was her idea as well. Man, her brilliance never ends!
And remember kids! Comments keep little Matriaya from refreshing her stats page every 5 minutes and allows her to complete homework! So comment!
Most nights, she didn't dream. Most nights, she slipped soundlessly into sleep, and dwelled in the black until daylight twisted its fingers into the camp. That night was different, though. That night, she dreamed.
"Sofie, listen to me." Djaq's rough voice rasped out through the darkness of the cave. "You need to get out. Get out of here." He fell to his knees, clutching his stomach as thick red blood spilled over onto his hand.
"No, brother," she sobbed, clinging to his crumpling form, "I won't leave you!"
The tips of her long black hair were coated in dirt and bile. Cold air leaked down through the hole in the ceiling where moonlight crept in, illuminating the gash at his side.
"Please," he choked out a sob. It tore her up to see her brother so weak, so fragile. "Sofie, you must go! They'll kill you!"
"SARASAN SCUM!!" An English voice boomed through the cave, followed immediately by the shrill whistle of an arrow. It sunk into Djaq's flesh with a sickening sucking noise, and he let out another scream of pain. Sofie whimpered and griped her brother more tightly. Seconds languishly dripped away like hours as the last few breaths of life shook through him and then were expelled. All at once, he was gone. Her brave, sweet brother lay limp in her arms, never more to draw his sword. Never more to kiss his wife or hold his baby girl.
A slow laughter filled the crevasses in the rock. The English soldier stood above them, bow in hand, with a smirk on his dirt stained mouth.
"Come here, pretty," he drawled, "I will help you stop crying."
She looked up at him through eyes of rage. Every ounce of sadness was sucked up by blind hatred. In that moment, her heart turned to stone. Any semblance of soft, feminine emotion evaporated, throwing a calloused shield over her heart. As the man drew closer, her thin fingers closed around the hilt of her brother's sword. She let out a blood curdling scream and slashed out at the soldier, driving the blade hard into his side. The feel of steel slicing cleanly through flesh was intoxicating...
Djaq awoke suddenly to the sound of her own heavy breathing, to the taste of blood in her mouth. Darkness still clung to the camp, and was chased away only a bit by the dying embers of the fire. Silence lay heavy around her, broken by the chirping of crickets and the occasional soft snorting that came from Much's bunk. Despite the warmth of the summer night, she found herself shivering beneath her thin blanket.
Tears came then, unbidden. No sobs accompanied them – she spent too many nights back home training herself not to sob, but she'd never quite gotten a hold on her tears. They stained her tan cheeks, digging out tiny ruts of red. In the morning, they would be gone, and no one would be the wiser, but it still tore her up inside that she was too weak to stop the emotion. Her brother never would have cried.
"Djaq?" A soft voice hissed her name, and she could just make out Will's concerned features through the dark. "Are you okay?"
Immediately, she stiffened up as the walls around her emotions snapped back into place. "I'm fine," she barked out, harsher than she meant to. Then she kicked herself as a hurt look briefly swept across his features. Unlike her, Will often wore his heart on his sleeve and flashed emotion like fireworks, burning hot and bright.
"Bad dream." She amended quietly. Part of her wished very much that he would go away and let her mourn in solitude. Another, deeper part was secretly relieved when he sat down next to her bunk and rested his arm down, his fingers conveniently a few inches from hers – just in case.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked. He couldn't see in the dark as well as she could, so his eyes were searching her face in an attempt to find hers. Silence stretched out for a lifetime of seconds as she battled internally. No. No, she really didn't. She wanted him to go away and mind his own damn business. She wanted her brother back. She wanted…
"My brother." The words spilled out from her lips before she had a change to stopper them. "I was dreaming about the night my brother died."
On the last word, her voice cracked. She felt the walls on her emotions begin to crumble, stone by stone until the tears were streaming and her body shook with the effort not to cry.
Three years. Three years since she let herself go. She'd spent 1,095 days forcing herself to believe she could deal with the pain in the stillness within her, that she didn't need to lean on anyone else. As Will's fingers closed the gap between their hands and wrapped around hers, she found she was wrong. Her small hands clawed at his arm, dragging him closer, grasping at the heat of his body, desperate to leech it from him.
"Whoa, hey," he whispered and pushed himself off the ground slipped onto her bunk and gathered her small trembling frame into his arms. All the horrors of home, and the pain at the loss of her brother flooded forth in a tidal wave and ripped through her until she was liquefied with emotion. She could do nothing but cling to him and cry, the silent sobs translated through her shaking body. Tears soaked into his shirt. Djaq hardly registered he was there, only the warmth of his skin and his strong arms that kept her from falling. Inside, she was drowning in her own mind.
Will was never too good with words. At first, he thought maybe he should say something comforting, something inspired to take her pain away, but nothing would come. So instead, he held her as tight as possible and rocked back and forth. His lips pressed gently into her hair, and he murmured a string of nothings to sooth her, calm her down.
The minutes passed quietly by and morphed, unnoticed, into an hour. Will had sagged down into a reclined position, settled his head down on her damp pillow. She curled up on top of him, still clinging to his shirt, but as the minutes passed her trembling subsided. As his fingers moved slowly through her short black hair, she felt an incredible sense of peace seep into her soul. It was deep, wiping away pain she'd kept locked up for years.
As she became more aware of her surroundings, she took in the heady scent of wood and male that was Will Scarlet. Daylight was fast approaching, as indicated by the light that slowly illuminated the camp. She shifted her head ever so slightly so she could look up at him without attracting attention. Sleep hovered over his features, though it had not yet completely claimed him. His fingers still caressed her hair, though his actions now were beyond his control. She couldn't help but watch as half dreams drifted in and out of his partially open eyes. He had demons too, she knew, nightmares in his past that lurked beyond the barrier of sleep. The fact that he could push them all aside and help her battle hers… It touched her in a way she'd never felt before, and left her slightly shaken.
She knew she should get up before any of the others woke up, lest they see the two of them together, or worse, surmise about her breakdown. Still, it felt so good just to lie there and listen to the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Maybe a few more minutes, she told herself, and laid her head fully on his chest once more. Her arms unconsciously wrapped themselves around him as she succumbed to sleep once more.
An hour later, Much would wake up and find the pair of them sound asleep, cuddled together, and he would smile.