56. A Woman's Way
The next morning, after a miserable, painful night, Alistair slowly sat up. He saw Wynne cooking, and was glad. He couldn't have cooked that morning, even if someone would have eaten it if he'd tried.
She muttered and scowled at him. But she picked up her staff and healing, as well as some amount of injury repair washed over him. She was improving, he had to give her that. Within a moment, he was fit again, in body if not in mind.
Peep grunted. "Shoulda let him at least get up first."
"I don't approve of 'man business'," came her tart reply.
Peep chuckled. "Ain't no woman what do," he told her. "That's cause women like ta hold grudges."
"We do not enjoy inflicting suffering, even should the other deserve it," Wynne answered.
"Better ta suffer quick at the hands of a man, than suffer the needling of a woman for the rest o' yer life," Peep told her, grinning.
"Easy for you to say," Alistair answered. "You didn't spend the night with a broken rib."
"Ah, not this time," Peep said. "But I had my turn when I was young. And there weren't no ladies around what could make it all disappear, neither. Still were better'n listenin' to the yammerin' of women."
"I think I'll burn your bacon this morning," Wynne informed Peep.
Peep looked at Alistair. "Ya think I should tell 'er I likes it better that way, or just keep quiet on it?"
"Not if you really do like it better," Alistair said. "Because then she'll give it to you raw."
He looked around, searching for Sherry.
"She out there," Peep said. "She ain't feelin' very chipper this mornin'. I would leave her be, was I you."
"I can't," Alistair said, then said it again more loudly when his voice barely squeaked out.
"Suit yerself, but don't say I didn't warn ya," Peep informed him. "She may not 'member who she is, but I sure ain't forgot. What you might not know is that she gots a temper on 'er. Now that you done been nasty ta her, you might just gets ta see it. If so, I'm hightailin' it outta here."
"I hear you. But I shouldn't have let this fester all day, any more than I should have done it to start with."
"You really should listen," Wynne didn't look up from the skillet. "She's in a very foul mood."
Alistair sighed. He couldn't let it go this way. Over and over it rang in his head, 'I felt nothing'. Even certain it was a lie, it still hurt.
He found her sitting beside a tree, and lowered himself gingerly beside her. "Sherry?" She gave no answer, so he blindly continued on. "I'm sorry. I was-"
"It's too late for apologies and excuses, Alistair. Leave me alone."
"I don't expect anything from you, I just wanted to say it-"
"You don't expect anything?" she rounded on him in fury. "YOU don't EXPECT anything? What right do you have to expect anything? You don't have the RIGHT to assuage your guilt by apologizing to me and pretending it never happened." Her voice was getting louder with every word. "You don't have the RIGHT to tell me that you're SORRY so that you can feel fine about it all again! I don't forgive you, Alistair. I HATE YOU!"
She jumped up, no longer speaking, nor even really shouting, but rather screaming at the top of her lungs. Afraid he'd offend her, he didn't cover his ears—but he longed to. "I don't know you! The first time I ever saw you was in that prison, where I was a prisoner myself! The next time I saw you, YOU CALLED ME A WHORE!" A second prior, Alistair hadn't believed her voice could get louder, but at the end of her sentence, she was nearly shrieking. Birds some distance away took to terrified flight at the sound.
"The next time I saw you, you left me lying in the mud again!" Her chest was heaving and her blue eyes seemed to practically spit real sparks. He could have sworn they were lit from a fire within her. "I don't KNOW YOU well enough to do anything but HATE YOU!"
She kicked snow at him, and Alistair jumped up to escape it. "You're SORRY? You're fucking SORRY? I don't know you, I don't like you, and I don't remember this great love affair everyone keeps telling me we had." She slapped him with closed fists, and though he barely felt it, he realized that it came from a place of terrible pain inside her.
Sobs wracked her body, and she kept hitting him. "You remember when I was burned," he said softly.
She stopped hitting him and stared at him. "No, I don't. That was a DREAM," she screamed the word at him. "A DREAM, utter and complete MADNESS!" She jerked back from him, stumbling and pulling the cloak up to keep it from tripping her. "I know, because I could have loved that man, but you are a monster!"
She fled from him back toward the camp. He followed, to find her wrapped in Wynne's arms and weeping.
"Told you," Peep said.
Alistair slapped his palm on his face. "I was just trying to apologize," he answered.
"T'weren't the right time, little man," Peep handed him a plate.
"Don't call me that," Alistair said laconically as he accepted the food.
"I'll stop callin' ya that when you start actin' like a grown up."
"Go fuck yourself," Alistair used a phrase Jesse was fond of using on him.
"That's the spirit!" Peep slapped him on the back, nearly choking him, and returned to his food.
When they rode out again, Alistair avoided Sherry, though it wasn't hard since it was obvious that she was avoiding him as well. Finally, he found himself riding beside Wynne.
"I've ruined everything, haven't I?" he asked.
"I really doubt that," came the surprising answer. "She loves you enough to scream at you. That's something."
"That makes no sense at all," he scowled at her.
"It's a woman thing, Alistair. We don't bother to scream at men we hate."
"That makes even less sense," he replied.
"Would you beat senseless a man you cared for, for pushing himself on a woman, or would you just kill him?" she inquired.
"Beat him senseless," Alistair replied.
"Why not kill him?"
"Because he's my friend," Alistair answered. "Maybe he can learn and not do it again."
"And that's why women scream at you instead of just leaving you, Alistair."
"Oh." He pondered it for a moment, "It still doesn't make sense."
"Of course not, dear. You're a man."
He sighed and dropped the subject.
