Arrows Through Her Heart
Chapter Ten: Nock, Draw, Loose: Warrior Princess Daria
Daria and related characters and situations are the property of Viacom / MTV Networks. This work is strictly for the entertainment of Daria fans and not for any monetary or material gain whatsoever. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Daria's boots crunched on the gravel of Lawndale's archery range parking lot as she got out of her small car. A breeze blew her hair over her eyes as she looked closer to verify the vehicles near her. She was not much of a car person but Jason's candy-apple red Ferrari and Trent's old tan and white VW van were unmistakable. She had not stalked the range but had to admit to driving by a few times looking for one or both of their vehicles before finding them together on this bright, warm morning.
"I'm not a stalker," she told herself. "I just have to talk to them. It's not fair to them or me if I don't."
She wondered just what she was going to say. She had practiced a dozen things in her head, but in this summer of uncharacteristic actions, Daria again was acting without a plan.
"Just say it's over. 'It's over guys, sorry. Thanks for the arrows, Trent. Thanks for the necklace, Jason. I just gave the necklace to my cousin and the arrows to Dad's buddy, but thanks anyway. I just can't date guys who team-molest a little Asian girl, even if the girl isn't so little and she's asking for it. That's just me, I guess.' Yeah, that's pretty good, go with it."
Daria forgot her own archery tackle as she started down the tree-shaded path, practicing her little speech in her head. Maybe she should just go home. She and Quinn had told their father an unexpurgated version of events at The Cobra Cavern. It had taken Daria and Quinn all their persuasive power and begging to keep Jake from stalking out the range himself and doing whatever an enraged Jake was capable of doing.
"Just ignore the assholes, kiddo," Jake finally advised his almost-unheard of swearing catching them both by surprise. "They're not worthy of my little girl."
Maybe she should take that advice but she found herself walking down the path to the range proper. A few early risers were out wrenching on their compound bows. Jason was sitting on a picnic table, his back to Daria and facing a standing, jovial Trent. Both seemed chummier than she remembered from her first encounter with them at this range. Sharing toys brought boys together she thought.
Neither was noticing her as Daria stopped and drew herself up to full height.
"I still can't believe she…" Daria heard Trent proclaim then he paused as he saw her.
"Oh hi!" Trent addressed her, surprised but recovering well. Jason stood up fast and turned to give her an innocent smile.
The two six footers took a cautionary step back as the slim five-foot, two-inch auburn-haired girl rounded the table.
"Oh hi," she said. "Go to hell!"
She somehow managed to slap both men soundly with one swat.
"Ow, what the fuck!" Jason exclaimed backing away. Trent stood his ground a moment until Daria pummeled away at his arms. They managed to get the picnic table between them and Daria as she paused.
"How could you!? How could you? How could she? No, never mind her. She can take care of herself. No wait; she's my sister's best friend. You both stay away from her."
The last was said in icy rage as some quiet part of Daria's mind reflected on the scene. "Wow, I've never slapped a man before. Felt good, but they're still standing. Harder next time. Hey, it's true. When you're madder than hell, all you see is red behind everything."
Jason was a study in outraged innocence. Trent, she thought, at least had the decency to start to look scared and guilty.
"What the hell are you talking about, Daria?" Jason tried.
"Jason, you idiot, it's over," Trent told him slowly. "Daria, I'm sorry. I blew it."
Jason gave up. "How the hell do you know what happened and why do you care anyway? You think you're so special and worth waiting for? You think I'm going to wait around to get some seconds after you get tired of Kat munching your carpet?"
That was enough for Daria. She shook her head and repeated, "It's over."
It was enough for Trent too. He gave Jason a disgusted look and sank to the ground, sitting there on the wet wood chips and gravel. He held his head. "I'm sorry, Daria. I really blew it."
Daria turned to leave and there was Kat coming up on them with a worried expression. It was a repeat of her first encounter with Kat with a couple additions. A hot, fuzzy red blanket hung behind everything in Daria's sight. And Kat's hair was shorn to a severe pixie cut, the studiedly jagged blonde bangs calling attention to her canted blue eyes and high cheekbones.
"Kat, please, no practice today. Let's get out of here. I'll buy you tea somewhere."
"Daria, I…" Kat looked down at the wood chips.
"Kat, what is it? Are you okay?"
Kat bit her lip. "Daria, I...I knew Jason would be there...at the Cobra that night. I overheard him tell person at this range. I knew in that bad place he would do something bad. I trapped him. And you. Then I was so happy to laugh and talk with your 'rents. Next day I couldn't stand myself then. I confessed my priest. He said I had to tell you to feel I was truly forgiven by God. Please, please forgive me. He said if I thought Jason would not hurt me in anger I should tell him too."
"Bitch." Jason said and turned to tinker with his wheel bow.
Kat sobbed, her tears coming with ragged, rough coughs. Daria's blood stopped and then ran cold after her hot fury.
"Kat, you were my first." she said and she could not think of anything more to say and Kat could not have been more hurt by any other words.
Daria turned on the heels of her high, hard boots, ignoring Kat's raspy sobs and Trent's continued repetition of various strains of "I blew it." Archers scrambled to get out of her way; no one meeting her eyes as she trampled the gravel.
"I'm shooting here," she snapped at a guy on a twenty-yard lane. She needed to burn off some energy by pulling her bow and loosing a few arrows. .
"But you don't even have…" he began then blanched and slunk away under her glare. Daria stomped her boots, swung her arms and growled in frustration as she realized that, indeed, she had not one piece of archery tackle with her.
Daria's boots kicked and stamped the wood chips forming the path back to her car. Her eyes glanced aside and she saw semi-familiar mushrooms in a clearing just off the path. Lawyer's wigs, shaggy manes.
She stamped down a desire to trample them with her high, hard boots. She picked her way through the light brush until she was reaching down in the clearing to gather the long, furry white domes.
A flash of blue further into the trees caught her eye. Carefully checking for poison ivy she stepped farther into the woods to a clearing spread with waist-high white daisies and blue wild irises.
"White and blue flowers on a sunny day in the woods," she paused and looked around her. She breathed deeply.
Common white daisies, a little girl's flower for putting in her hair or to bring home to mother. All Daria needed and wanted just then was to bring her father mushrooms and give flowers to her mother. Choosing carefully the best blossoms, she twined and set daisies and irises into her dark red hair. On the way out of the woods she gathered as many mushrooms as she could carry in her arms.
More than one archer felt there was something different and special about that day when he passed a young woman with white and blue flowers twined through her auburn hair. Quinn smiled a sincere, inscrutable Mona Lisa smile as she helped Daria arrange the flowers on their formal dinner table. The sisters made dinner together that night with few words and served it to their parents.