Castle in the Sun.
Day Four.
"She's been asleep all day." Jared said as he sat down next to the blanketed Quinn, whose hands were cupped around a tin cup of badly made coffee from boiled water and petty legumes. It was hardly a coffee at all, more like a weak, terrible soup.
There was water and tomato soup simmering in a pan over the fire, but that was for the girl, if she would ever wake up.
Quinn took a sip of his "coffee" and winced at the displeasing taste, turning an eye to Jared.
"I think she's Scottish." Jared said, turning his eyes towards the table and running his fingers along the cracks. "She sounds Scottish anyway."
Quinn sniffed a laugh and looked at the kitchen walls blankly. "At least she's not another French." Jared looked up and smiled slightly. "I-" but there was an intrusive shuffling as someone came around the corner.
It was the girl, a plaid blanket much like Quinn's pulled around her shoulders, covering her naked torso. It had been too uncomfortable to sleep in her vest. Despite her blood and mud stained skirt still clipped around her waist, she was as clean as she could get and no longer smelled like a dead horse, thanks to the bath they offered her when she had come in.
"Good morning." She mumbled tiredly, smiling through a face of a heavenly restful night.
"Afternoon." Quinn said quietly, shedding himself of his own blanket as Jared rose from his seat and went to the simmering soup. Lemoni just stood by the table, watching the boy with awakening eyes as he hurried to pour the soup in a dish and throw in a spoon, before coming back to set it down in front of her.
"Is it really that late?" She raised a hand up to scratch her head, careful not to uncover anything. Quinn and Jared nodded.
She waited until Jared sat down before she sat down, sniffing the soup with a pleasing look. Tucking the blanket around her to free her hands, she slowly began eating, sipping at the soup unlike the ravenous frenzy she wanted to gulp down the soup with, but she was in company.
There was a long moment of uneasy silence, Quinn's eyes leveled on Lemoni, while Jared and Lemoni both made restless looks to each other and then to Quinn.
"What are you doing out here?" Quinn asked suddenly, taking another sip of his weak coffee.
Lemoni thought about it for a moment, pausing eating. "Running." She said as a matter of fact as she could. "Actually, I came from a castle up in Leicestershire a ways north of here. And this mother of a bitch has on my tail ever since I left. There was something about this place that she didn't like, I can't tell what it is, but she's left me alone so far."
Quinn and Jared both looked at each other knowingly, getting a questioning eye from Lemoni. "What?"
"A couple months ago, we brought down one of them, with the help of some others." Jared said.
"Americans?" Lemoni took another sip of her soup, knowing the answer without anyone giving it out.
"How'd you-?" Jared began.
"I've heard of them running around here. Bald guy, beard, tattoos? Got a name kind of like Trenton Van Dam or something like that, right?"
Jared nodded, while Quinn just stared with level eyes at the girl as she described Van Zan.
"Yeah, I know who you're talking about."
"Denton Van Zan? You've met him?" Jared asked incredulously.
"No. But I've heard Gory talk about him. Poor chap. Have you met Van Zan?"
Jared nodded again.
Lemoni nodded and took the last sip of her soup. "He was off then I take it?"
"Like the wind." Quinn said, dead eyeing the girl, who just smiled kindly and rose from the table.
"This way to the clean up?" She asked, pointing back in direction of the small, adjoining room, but Jared was up and taking the bowl from her hands. "Thanks." She said, sitting back down and watching the boy walk off where she had just about gone.
"Who's Gory?" Quinn asked in a deadpan voice, brows low over his eyes as he was trying to dissect the girl's thoughts and history.
"His real name's Gregory, but we call him Gory back in Leicester. Poor guy, thinks he's a dragon hunter, even though most times he's the one that's hunted." She laughed lightly, then cleared her throat, forcing down Quinn's cold stare. "We have a castle back there, in Leicester, there's only three of us in there. We use to have about two dozen or so, but ever since two months ago, it's been hell. We've been attacked by almost thirty dragons since then. Something's wrong."
Quinn's eyes softened as he became lost to thought. Two months ago he had been in London, two months ago he had brought down the bull. The females were in a state of confusion, no longer having a male.
"So I took off out here to try and see what the hell is going on."
Day Four.
"She's been asleep all day." Jared said as he sat down next to the blanketed Quinn, whose hands were cupped around a tin cup of badly made coffee from boiled water and petty legumes. It was hardly a coffee at all, more like a weak, terrible soup.
There was water and tomato soup simmering in a pan over the fire, but that was for the girl, if she would ever wake up.
Quinn took a sip of his "coffee" and winced at the displeasing taste, turning an eye to Jared.
"I think she's Scottish." Jared said, turning his eyes towards the table and running his fingers along the cracks. "She sounds Scottish anyway."
Quinn sniffed a laugh and looked at the kitchen walls blankly. "At least she's not another French." Jared looked up and smiled slightly. "I-" but there was an intrusive shuffling as someone came around the corner.
It was the girl, a plaid blanket much like Quinn's pulled around her shoulders, covering her naked torso. It had been too uncomfortable to sleep in her vest. Despite her blood and mud stained skirt still clipped around her waist, she was as clean as she could get and no longer smelled like a dead horse, thanks to the bath they offered her when she had come in.
"Good morning." She mumbled tiredly, smiling through a face of a heavenly restful night.
"Afternoon." Quinn said quietly, shedding himself of his own blanket as Jared rose from his seat and went to the simmering soup. Lemoni just stood by the table, watching the boy with awakening eyes as he hurried to pour the soup in a dish and throw in a spoon, before coming back to set it down in front of her.
"Is it really that late?" She raised a hand up to scratch her head, careful not to uncover anything. Quinn and Jared nodded.
She waited until Jared sat down before she sat down, sniffing the soup with a pleasing look. Tucking the blanket around her to free her hands, she slowly began eating, sipping at the soup unlike the ravenous frenzy she wanted to gulp down the soup with, but she was in company.
There was a long moment of uneasy silence, Quinn's eyes leveled on Lemoni, while Jared and Lemoni both made restless looks to each other and then to Quinn.
"What are you doing out here?" Quinn asked suddenly, taking another sip of his weak coffee.
Lemoni thought about it for a moment, pausing eating. "Running." She said as a matter of fact as she could. "Actually, I came from a castle up in Leicestershire a ways north of here. And this mother of a bitch has on my tail ever since I left. There was something about this place that she didn't like, I can't tell what it is, but she's left me alone so far."
Quinn and Jared both looked at each other knowingly, getting a questioning eye from Lemoni. "What?"
"A couple months ago, we brought down one of them, with the help of some others." Jared said.
"Americans?" Lemoni took another sip of her soup, knowing the answer without anyone giving it out.
"How'd you-?" Jared began.
"I've heard of them running around here. Bald guy, beard, tattoos? Got a name kind of like Trenton Van Dam or something like that, right?"
Jared nodded, while Quinn just stared with level eyes at the girl as she described Van Zan.
"Yeah, I know who you're talking about."
"Denton Van Zan? You've met him?" Jared asked incredulously.
"No. But I've heard Gory talk about him. Poor chap. Have you met Van Zan?"
Jared nodded again.
Lemoni nodded and took the last sip of her soup. "He was off then I take it?"
"Like the wind." Quinn said, dead eyeing the girl, who just smiled kindly and rose from the table.
"This way to the clean up?" She asked, pointing back in direction of the small, adjoining room, but Jared was up and taking the bowl from her hands. "Thanks." She said, sitting back down and watching the boy walk off where she had just about gone.
"Who's Gory?" Quinn asked in a deadpan voice, brows low over his eyes as he was trying to dissect the girl's thoughts and history.
"His real name's Gregory, but we call him Gory back in Leicester. Poor guy, thinks he's a dragon hunter, even though most times he's the one that's hunted." She laughed lightly, then cleared her throat, forcing down Quinn's cold stare. "We have a castle back there, in Leicester, there's only three of us in there. We use to have about two dozen or so, but ever since two months ago, it's been hell. We've been attacked by almost thirty dragons since then. Something's wrong."
Quinn's eyes softened as he became lost to thought. Two months ago he had been in London, two months ago he had brought down the bull. The females were in a state of confusion, no longer having a male.
"So I took off out here to try and see what the hell is going on."