Warnings: Homosexual relationships, cross-dressing, implied sexual content, Deidara being a Russian dominating badass, and general Sasori-ness altogether. I've had this on my laptop forever. Just didn't get to publishing it.
Tiny pinpricks of cold brought me to consciousness. The snow coating my face reviving me to the point I could observe my surroundings. The clouds were slate gray, faceless. I struggled to sit up, but pain shot through my spine and legs, my knees buckling. The snow covered underbrush had torn through my bear pelt coat, but that was soaked through already. I pushed myself off the white covering. The powder gave slightly because of my weight. Gripping the nearest tree, I pulled myself high enough to stand.
Shaky, but upright, I tottered over to the wreckage of what had been my escort. The wheels still turned, tires bent and twisted. The carriage I had been in was all over the place; the door stuck in the snow several yards away. My two bodyguards were dead, the carriage driver missing. His horse was still tethered to the wreckage. I shivered and pulled Peter's mercenary coat off. He wouldn't need it now.
My fur coat abandoned, I turned to the frightened horse stranded in his yoke. He started when I stretched a hand, swinging to the left and nearly killing himself by strangulation. I was quite put out by now, and not in the mood for nonsense. I grabbed him by his noseband, and pulled the yoke boards off. Now free, he wheeled, but I was expecting this and switched him on the nose with my palm. The bay stallion gave me a baleful glare, and I responded in turn. He turned away after a few minutes, though. Satisfied with our newfound understanding, I pulled myself on his broad back, and nudged his girth with my foot.
The reaction was spectacular, his feet barely touching the snow as he bolted. I frowned through the sleet lashing my face, and wrenched him into a tight circle. Forced to an abrupt halt, he seemed miffed at my response to the spook, baring his teeth. I huffed, and delivered a swift kick, while keeping the rope woven reins taught. I was prepared for any infractions, and so when he lunged ahead, I was there with him, branch in hand. His shrill neigh rang through the trees at the punishment.
Before being engaged to one of the top military figures of the Soviet Empire, I had been quite the rider. Being the "daughter" of a Russian diplomat helped. The carriage horse recognized my skill, allowing me to ask for a slow trot in the direction I assumed was home. Deidara would no-doubt be livid, more than likely to forbid any sort of travel with me attached.
"It's too dangerous!" He would seethe in Russian, pacing. "I cannot allow you to be in the open, Sasori! I tolerated this idea of visiting townsfolk, and look where it got you! Targeted by assassins! Don't expect me to permit any more of these trips." I would roll my eyes, and find an…unorthodox way to convince him otherwise. I would win, no doubt, and get my way. It was always my way.
Being a wife, many assumed, meant playing second fiddle in politics where it concerned their husband's decisions. The reality couldn't be more different. Wives operated from behind their spouses, manipulated them into choices that they themselves desired. Their men were puppets in their delicate, gloved hands.
The wind force was increasing, I noted. Ice dug into my skin more harshly than before. My mount was getting nervous as well, skipping sideways in fear. I maintained control for merely an hour, before the disturbing keening of wolves reached our ears. This was the last straw for him, his great body rearing and plunging. I toppled off, and watched in growing dread his form retreating into the distance.
I was freezing now, and hungry. The stallion body heat had been sustaining my temperature, and without it I was good as dead. In my years at my father's house, my Uncle Ebizo had a hobby of teaching us children how to survive in the wild. Where to forage for food, how to start a fire, boiling water to cleanse it, among other useful things. I knew from those years of tutelage that I was dangerously weak, exerting myself in sub-zero temperatures, and low on fluid. These things, as well as my leg injuries, caused me to collapse, my head hitting the ice.
You don't get the title. Duh. I planned it so! You have to read the whole story! So, my brain is dead from Woes of a God and I'm brainstorming so hard right now! *scrunch face up* I'm on an airplane, and the delays are killing me. What to do other than write? Yeah, it's short. Sorry.
