Chapter 3: The Unknown

Lessien felt something damp on her face, it was not the dew on the grass that touched her skin- it was different, foreign.  With great effort, Lessien opened her eyes.  Light danced in her blurred vision.  Slowly her eyes came into focus and she saw the embers of a fire dance and spin, crackling softly into the silence of the night.  She was in a camp of sorts.  Lessien strained to remember what she had done before she lost consciousness.  What had she been doing?  Why had she fainted?  Then suddenly a wave of memories washed over her tired mind.  Malfoy.  Dishonor.  Defeat.  Blood.  In Lessiens confusion as to how she had managed to arrive at this camp, her hand had started to make its way towards her dagger.  She grasped the cold metal of the blade-it was soothing.  She had always felt safer when she had it near her.

(Snap)

Lessien quickly turned to the direction of the disturbance knocking the moistened cloth from her forehead.  Something was coming.  She had to arm herself.  She had to get her sword.  As she reached over to it she felt a pain rip through her.  She clutched her side; the pain was unbearable.  She couldn't even sit up.  There was no way she could defend herself.  The greenery of the forest parted, revealing a familiar face. 

"No!  Not you!" 

"Well, that's a fine welcome for your savior" 

Malfoy placed the firewood he had gathered in a heap beside the fire.  He crouched next to Lessien,  "I see you've gotten some of your strength back". 

Lessien glared at her smug enemy. "What is it that you want?  An audience to listen to you gloat?!"

"You should be much kinder to the one who has cared for you for the last few days."  Malfoy turned away from Lessien to attend to something on the fire.  "Honestly, the least you can do is be nicer to the one you owe your life to". 

"I owe you nothing!"

"Nothing, indeed!  I paid my debt to you by sparing your life in battle.  And now I save your life and you would have me believe that you owe me nothing?  Perhaps you lost more blood then I thought."

"I did not ask for your help!"

"Nor did I ask you for help."

Lessien grew silent-it was true; according to the warriors code she owed him a debt of gratitude.  Her mind began to wander.  Something smelled delicious.  The tantalizing aroma of the pot resting over the fire called to her.  She was famished; it had been days since she had eaten.  Draco turned to her, "Would you care for some stew?"  Lessien was so very hungry but her pride prevented her from what she wanted.  She turned her head away.  She stared into the dark forest, trying her best to ignore the sultry smell of food. 

"You really should eat something," A note of concern in his voice.  Awkward minutes became strained hours.  "Eat, woman!  You need to get your strength back…" Lessien continued to face the darkness.  "Please eat something" This time the pleading in his voice was very clear.  "Fine!  You owe me nothing!  I'm asking you, Lessien, to please eat.  If not for your sake for mine!  I will surely die if I eat all this bad cooking on my own!"  Lessien smiled and suppressed a laugh.  "Alright, but only because you insisted so adamantly."

Lessien tried to prop herself up but the pain from her wound was too great.  Draco moved towards her and gingerly lifted her head onto a makeshift pillow.  He then filled a bowl with the stew and proceeded to try and feed her.  Lessien stared into his face, a look of surprise on her face as he brought the wooden spoon to her mouth.  Lessien was in a state of such shock and surprise.  "Is there something wrong," He asked. Puzzled at how she reacted.  "Oh wait!  I know!"  He brought the spoon to his lips and gently blew on it.  "There.  It should be alright now".  Lessien couldn't help but smile. 

This man could not possibly be a Malfoy.  He could not be the spawn of a Death Eater.  There is no way he could be related to my parents' killer…. 

"I think I can manage," she said softly as she took the spoon from his hand, her fingers brushing against his.  He smiled at her and the faintest hint of a blush graced his pale skin.  Don't be deceived; he is no friend of yours.  You are an assassin you cannot feel for your prey.  Love is something that will never be within your grasp; you are destined to be alone-such is the fate of an assassin…