Headaches
by Saraswathi
~*~
Chapter Two: Of Carpentry and Curses
~*~
As he stood on the ramparts, Domitan of Masbolle allowed the music of the camp to fade to a lull in the background. Sentry duty could not capture his attention span, especially not when she stood below him in the courtyard.
His gaze slipped, yet again, to Kel's serious face. Gods! She must have some magnetic pull about her, to keep attracting his eyes this way. It wasn't as if he thought that way about her. Mithros, no! It was simply that his traitorous eyes kept wanting her to fill his vision.
She looked tired, he mused, as if she hadn't been sleeping. He made a note to ask her about it. Other than that, she looked fine. More than fine, even, though she had never been pretty in the conventional sense. But she still had an aura about her, of calm collectedness that was rather compelling.
Cursing himself, Dom smashed his fist against the railing with more force than he had intended to. It was simply that he hadn't seen her in so long, he reasoned. And his squad would be called away all too soon, to return to Raoul. But Kel needed him here; to fight for her, to make her smile and to defend her. The Goddess knew she needed someone here to help her. Someone besides his Meatheaded cousin. He grinned; Kel was showing remarkable patience in putting up with his cousin at all.
But then, her determination never failed to astound him. Now that she was assigned to them, she would give her skin to these refugees. Refugees who had no idea how lucky they were. She would even put herself on carpentry duty for them, the one thing she was a disaster at.
He grinned at the thought, then realized, with sudden shock, that it might not be all in jest. Kel was determined not to shirk any of the chores that the refugees were required to do. If that was so, he would have to see the carpenter. Haven did not have wood and nails to spare for injuring the hands of the commander.
~*~
The men of Dom's squad were rather at a loss as to why their commander was spying on carpenters. They were not to know that he was spying on a would-be carpenter in particular. The sergeant smirked to himself, watching Kel try to put herself on carpentry duty for the third day in a row. From her exasperated expression, she was demanding to know why. Dom couldn't help laughing as he watched the master carpenter tell her what he had said. The expression on his face was reward enough for what he had done.
Kel spun around, all but stalking off. She glared up towards the walkway, only to meet the teasing grin he knew was growing on his face. Considering him for a few moments, she responded with a universally rude gesture. He pretended to wince, watching as she attempted to hide her smile.
She turned away as a refugee approached her, immersing herself in camp life again. So Dom was surprised when she met him up on the ramparts a few minutes later.
"Thanks a lot," she snapped, but he knew by her smile that she wasn't angry.
"Your fingers will be grateful," he informed her.
She grinned. "If you're looking for my thanks, keep dreaming, Sergeant."
"It's fine, Kel. I know you're secretly grateful me," he assured her.
She glared at him, a companionable silence falling over them as they both surveyed the camp below. He interrupted the pause first. "By the way, your speech last night was amazing. I didn't know that you could . . ." he paused, at a loss for words. "Do that," he finished eloquently.
Kel chuckled, a sound that warmed him when it came from her lips. But she sobered quickly. Far too quickly, Dom thought. "Well, as I said, all I have to do is live up to it."
The certainty that lit his eyes left no room for argument. "You will."
She held his intense gaze for a long moment, her eyes captivating him. Eyes of a dreamer, veiled by elegant lashes, that captured colors in them like a prism. Dom counted seven different shades of cinnamon before her eyes flickered downward. He felt slightly dizzy.
"I guess I'd better go," Kel told the floor, to break the silence.
Dom nodded, but she had already turned and did not catch the movement. He returned to scanning the landscape, but he was blind to it. All he could see was her. He swore, trying to dispel the image. "Bloody hell." Chancing a glance along the ramparts at her, he saw that she had turned back to face him, wearing a grin.
"Kel," he said, striding towards her before she could escape again. She raised her eyebrows. "I know you're taking your position seriously, but being commander doesn't mean you can't laugh once in a while."
Several emotions played chase across her face. Then she gave him a sudden smile. "Well, with you around, that's not likely to happen." She spun and strode off before he could reply.
Slowly he grinned. She was right. But then, she generally was. It was one of the things that he found so endearing about her.
Dom stood rooted to the spot. "I did not just think that," he told himself. Without another word, he stalked away in the opposite direction.
~*~
by Saraswathi
~*~
Chapter Two: Of Carpentry and Curses
~*~
As he stood on the ramparts, Domitan of Masbolle allowed the music of the camp to fade to a lull in the background. Sentry duty could not capture his attention span, especially not when she stood below him in the courtyard.
His gaze slipped, yet again, to Kel's serious face. Gods! She must have some magnetic pull about her, to keep attracting his eyes this way. It wasn't as if he thought that way about her. Mithros, no! It was simply that his traitorous eyes kept wanting her to fill his vision.
She looked tired, he mused, as if she hadn't been sleeping. He made a note to ask her about it. Other than that, she looked fine. More than fine, even, though she had never been pretty in the conventional sense. But she still had an aura about her, of calm collectedness that was rather compelling.
Cursing himself, Dom smashed his fist against the railing with more force than he had intended to. It was simply that he hadn't seen her in so long, he reasoned. And his squad would be called away all too soon, to return to Raoul. But Kel needed him here; to fight for her, to make her smile and to defend her. The Goddess knew she needed someone here to help her. Someone besides his Meatheaded cousin. He grinned; Kel was showing remarkable patience in putting up with his cousin at all.
But then, her determination never failed to astound him. Now that she was assigned to them, she would give her skin to these refugees. Refugees who had no idea how lucky they were. She would even put herself on carpentry duty for them, the one thing she was a disaster at.
He grinned at the thought, then realized, with sudden shock, that it might not be all in jest. Kel was determined not to shirk any of the chores that the refugees were required to do. If that was so, he would have to see the carpenter. Haven did not have wood and nails to spare for injuring the hands of the commander.
~*~
The men of Dom's squad were rather at a loss as to why their commander was spying on carpenters. They were not to know that he was spying on a would-be carpenter in particular. The sergeant smirked to himself, watching Kel try to put herself on carpentry duty for the third day in a row. From her exasperated expression, she was demanding to know why. Dom couldn't help laughing as he watched the master carpenter tell her what he had said. The expression on his face was reward enough for what he had done.
Kel spun around, all but stalking off. She glared up towards the walkway, only to meet the teasing grin he knew was growing on his face. Considering him for a few moments, she responded with a universally rude gesture. He pretended to wince, watching as she attempted to hide her smile.
She turned away as a refugee approached her, immersing herself in camp life again. So Dom was surprised when she met him up on the ramparts a few minutes later.
"Thanks a lot," she snapped, but he knew by her smile that she wasn't angry.
"Your fingers will be grateful," he informed her.
She grinned. "If you're looking for my thanks, keep dreaming, Sergeant."
"It's fine, Kel. I know you're secretly grateful me," he assured her.
She glared at him, a companionable silence falling over them as they both surveyed the camp below. He interrupted the pause first. "By the way, your speech last night was amazing. I didn't know that you could . . ." he paused, at a loss for words. "Do that," he finished eloquently.
Kel chuckled, a sound that warmed him when it came from her lips. But she sobered quickly. Far too quickly, Dom thought. "Well, as I said, all I have to do is live up to it."
The certainty that lit his eyes left no room for argument. "You will."
She held his intense gaze for a long moment, her eyes captivating him. Eyes of a dreamer, veiled by elegant lashes, that captured colors in them like a prism. Dom counted seven different shades of cinnamon before her eyes flickered downward. He felt slightly dizzy.
"I guess I'd better go," Kel told the floor, to break the silence.
Dom nodded, but she had already turned and did not catch the movement. He returned to scanning the landscape, but he was blind to it. All he could see was her. He swore, trying to dispel the image. "Bloody hell." Chancing a glance along the ramparts at her, he saw that she had turned back to face him, wearing a grin.
"Kel," he said, striding towards her before she could escape again. She raised her eyebrows. "I know you're taking your position seriously, but being commander doesn't mean you can't laugh once in a while."
Several emotions played chase across her face. Then she gave him a sudden smile. "Well, with you around, that's not likely to happen." She spun and strode off before he could reply.
Slowly he grinned. She was right. But then, she generally was. It was one of the things that he found so endearing about her.
Dom stood rooted to the spot. "I did not just think that," he told himself. Without another word, he stalked away in the opposite direction.
~*~