What's that? . . . Oh, hell no. If I owned Rekka no Ken, Raven'd slice up
Renault at the end and Eliwood would prance more. Because . . . I can see
Eliwood prancing.
Rated for some seriously narky stuff. No, I ain't kiddin ya, there is some messed
up crap all up in here. I mean, what with all the KISSING and people saying
horrible BAD WORDS . . . what will all your parents say, if they see you reading
this? Tsk, tsk . . .
R Amythest has once more come through! (Sorry I didn't change the cliche
part, but I'd hafta change most the chapter and that'd take too long.) Love the
beta, people! Sorry it took so long! But, between kicking Renault with Scarabsi
hates Renault and rejoicing over the last day of school (not to mention panicking
from the exams), writing slowly dropped down my priority list. But now I'm back.
Heh. (PS: I know nothing about horses. I BSed my way through most the parts
involving equines of any sort. Go me.)
----------------------------start fic-----------------------------
I lifted my head. I could smell cooking from the center of the cluster of tents,
the smell only reaching me because of a shift in the wind. I frowned. Perhaps
it was later in the morning then I thought if the noon meal was already getting
started. I sighed. Well, you couldn't truly blame me for losing track of time.
I'd been busy, in an odd sense of the word, and my mind wasn't on that sort
of thing.
The entire camp -- even those lazy ones who took to opportunity to sleep
in -- was awake now, and the various squabbles that everyone seemed to
enjoy so much were in full force. Isadora was fending off Sain with little luck,
and Harken was glaring at the green-armored cavalier intensely before Kent
came along and dragged Sain off to help him with something.
Lord Hector and Lady Lyn were bickering behind me, heading in the same
direction that I was. Lord Eliwood was there, too, giving them pacifying and
nervous smiles in his effort to calm them down. The tactician swooshed by as
well, his/her cloak (I never could figure their gender out) trailing behind as he/she
shouted at Dart for something he'd done in the last battle.
The center of the camp -- the unofficial kitchen and meeting ground -- was
mostly full, with a fairly long line to Lowen's cooking. I admit, Lowen was a
good cook, and by far the best of the rest of us. It's understandable that
Lowen ended up cooking for the whole camp.
As I made my way to the end of the queue, I passed by our pegasus knights.
"Good afternoon, ladies." I smiled at the three sisters, and although Fiora and
Farina returned the greeting, Florina looked around bashfully before giving a
tiny wave. I smiled gently at her; her fear of men was understandable, and it
seemed to be spread to every male in the camp . . . except me. I suppose that
my girlish looks -- while extremely annoying -- can come in handy after all.
Although, it makes me wonder if Florina even knows I'm a man at all. That disturbs
me slightly, but I'm willing to swallow my pride for a greater good.
"It's good to see you again, Florina," I gave her a calming smile. "How's your
riding been? You haven't taken anymore falls, I hope?"
"J-just once . . ." She admitted shyly, tinkering with the clips she used to keep
her hair back. "I had to use a vulnerary, since both you and Serra weren't there . . ."
She hesitated, and nudged slightly closer. "I-I think Canas was there, but . . .
I hope he wasn't offended by my not calling him . . ."
The slight tremble in her voice was enough to make me want to wince. I leaned
forward to whisper -- it was only an illusion of privacy, really, since the only people
around were her sisters and Florina would tell them everything once I was gone
anyway -- and asked softly, "Do you want me to go make sure? I'll be very
discreet, of course."
She shook her head. "No . . . no, that's fine . . . I . . . " She froze.
I paused. "Florina? Are you well? I haven't said anything wrong, have I?"
"N-No . . ." She bit her lip, her hands reaching up to clasp by her neck.
Strangely enough, she seemed to being looking not at me, but over my
shoulder. "No, I, um . . . I'm, um, going over there now . . ." And with that,
Florina scurried behind her two sisters, gripping Farina's arm and peeking in my
direction over Fiora's shoulder. I blinked. Odd.
I tuerned to walk back, but hit a large, blue clothed wall. It was rather warm, and
smelled an awful lot like Lord Raymond . . . I blinked, and glanced up. It WAS
Lord Raymond. Standing directly behind me and glaring enough for him, Jaffar,
and Lord Hector combined . . .no wonder Florina had run; milord was enough
to scare away those of stronger hearts.
He arched an eyebrow at me, and I noticed then our very close proximity. Not
showing the reluctance I was feeling, I gave a quick half-leap backwards,
muttering an apology for running into him . . . and praying to Elimine for her
forgiveness for that lie, since I actually wasn't very sorry at all.
Raven looked at me almost apprehensively, and walked away. Just like that.
I blinked.
What?
Well, that was strange. Raymond was usually content to skulk about in the
background, why was he walking around in the open for no reason? I cupped
my elbow with one hand and tapped my jaw with the other.
More and more curious, according to Canas. I wasn't exactly watching where
I was going during this thought process; I'd bumped into -- surprise -- Rebecca.
"Lucius, sorry!" She smiled cheerfully. "What's new with you?"
"With me, nothing much," I admitted. All of my problems weren't really my own,
granted, just other's issues that my accursed luck got me involved in. "But I'll be
grateful for the chance to sit down and eat; I didn't have breakfast." Shaking my
head, I gave her a sheepish look.
I should mention, it was hard not to like Rebecca, despite the possible feelings
Raven might harbor for her. She winced, and jerked a thumb over her shoulder.
"Well, you're not in much luck. Bartre decided he'd like to learn how to cook, and
Lowen didn't really have a choice in the matter . . ." her voice trailed off just in time
for me to hear the bushy-haired cavalier yelling at the aforementioned axe-man.
Bartre. Cooking. I felt my stomach, which was previously twisting in mild hunger,
now twisting in minor revulsion. "That," I said in a flat sort of voice, "doesn't
sound good at all. Should I ask Lady Louise for part of her meal?" This was a
reference to the fact that Lord Pent and Lady Louise always shared a private
meal over their personal fire. Erk occasionally joined them, but at this point the
young mage was beginning to head into the 'authority-doesn't-apply-to-me' frame
of mind.
He was that age, I'm afraid.
"No, don't bother," Rebecca admitted. "I think Lowen's managed pretty well,
from what I can smell, but . . ." Her shrug was suddenly tense, and she wasn't
looking quite at me, but behind me. I blinked; well, this was deja vu. She hurriedly
finished her sentence. ". . . but it should be okay! Erm . . . see you later . . ?"
Rebecca gave a half-hearted yet quirky wave, backed away slowly, and then
skipped off at an exaggerated speed.
I picked up my meal with a confused air. What was that about?
"Lucius, you don't look very well," Erk noted as I went to join the rest of the
magic-users for the meal. The group was lacking a few members -- namely,
Priscilla, Serra, and Nino -- but Priscilla and Serra were probably off doing girl
things and Nino was probably hanging off of Jaffar. I gave a fairly blank smile
as a reply, and Erk shrugged and turned back to his books.
I sat down, and prodded the contents of the bowl -- a strange pasta -- a few
times before tasting it. Once again, with or without Bartre's 'assistance,' Lowen
had done an excellent job with the meal. I dipped in my fork and tried to daintily
twist the noodles, but they weren't quite long enough and I ended up half-shoveling
it into my mouth like everyone else. We ate in companionable silence until Canas
looked up at me sharply. "Tell me, Lucius."
I glanced up, and rubbed the side of my mouth to make sure it was clean before
answering. "Yes, Canas?"
He hesitated and adjusted his monocle -- did he really need it? He was really
fairly young --before continuing. "Is there . . ." He queried slowly, "Some reason
that Raven's been . . . ah," He look mildly perturbed as he frowned. "How shall
I put this . . ."
"Stalking you?" Erk suggested wryly. I looked at him blankly, then back at
Canas as he nodded approvingly at Erk. "Ah, yes. Bluntly put, but that was the
point I was trying to make." Canas turned back to me amiably. "Yes. Is there a
reason that Raven is, shall we say, 'stalking' you?"
My blank stare obviously spoke volumes more then any words that might have
popped out of my mouth, but the one query that did make it past my confusion
must have helped. ". . . what?"
"Obviously not," Erk observed, noting my pause in eating before turning back to
his work -- how he managed to balance both his books and still manage to eat
the syrupy noodle mess was beyond my comprehension -- and pretending to
ignore us again. Canas shot Erk a look that was a cross between annoyed and
impressed before turning back to me.
"No? No clue?" Canas tapped his head. "I really think he's got some sort of
possessive complex."
Possessive? I snorted a very un-Lucius like snort . . . this line of thought seemed
familiar; to me, at least. "I'm hardly Raven's."
The faint trace of longing in my voice slipped through. Erk's head bobbed for
a moment, his only sign of his listening, but I did hear his faint 'ew' as he kept
reading. Canas paused, and shrugged, before continuing to rant on other possible
psycological defects Lord Raymond might have. Well, it's nice to see that while
all my fellow magicians are straight, they're not the violently inclined sort. It seems
Erk is shying away from me now, though . . . sigh.
Well, that's the way the cookie crumbles. I turned back and tried to listen on
Canas's rambling.
"-- and honestly," The druid nodded politely, as though he were talking about
how the tea was too cold rather then the deepest mental capabilities of my liege
lord, "I think he's got a bit of case of anthropophobia as well -- yes, the fear of
people in general -- because he insists on scaring away almost every person that
comes near him. Things like that don't develop on their own, perhaps he's gone
through a traumatic experience or something --" I tried not to wince; he'd hit close
to the mark there. Having one's family massacred in the next room wasn't exactly
a happy memory. "--or perhaps he just hates us all. I'm sure there's a word for
that . . . Erk?"
"Like I know."
"Just checking." Canas, in an uncommon show of nonchalance, shrugged.
"Not to mention, of course, that he's got a serious problem with . . .with, ah
. . . erm . . ."
The druid stumbled over his sentence, which was a rare occurrence, as he
was almost always neat with his words. I tilted my head. "Is there something wrong?"
Canas wasn't staring at me anymore. He was staring over my shoulder . . . and
I remembered what had happened the last few times that had happened with
Florina, and then the second time, with Rebecca, along with Canas's previous
'stalking' query. I let out a weary breath.
"Canas, is Raven standing right behind me?"
He didn't answer. Canas's eyes never leaving Raven's -- who it seemed, really
WAS right behind me, the scholar gathered his books and quietly -- if a bit
clumsily -- slunk off. Erk, apparently, was long gone. Clever boy.
I shook my head and 'tutted', not even looking back at my mercenary liege.
"Really, Lord Raymond, he has a point," I said with a sigh. "You have been
following me around. . . and as a result, I haven't been able to keep up a
decent conversation all through lunch."
I heard his boots loudly behind me as he walked around me, and then I
watched -- with dismay -- as he sat down right across from me. Raymond
never, EVER sat blatantly WITH me. Near me, yes. Occasionally by me,
but only if I were with Priscilla. He said that he didn't want others to see a
connection between us, and I could understand that . . . so why was he
sitting with me?
I licked my lips hesitantly, and leaned forward to peer at his face as I
voiced, "L-Lord Raymond?"
No reaction. His face was expressionless, staring at a spot near my ankle.
He didn't have any food with him, and I ventured, "Lord Raymond, you
must eat if you wish to be well . . . this break from travel is supposed to --"
Raven snapped up, causing me to jerk back and cut off my own words.
The next phrase to come out of his mouth was probably the most awkward
and random thing I'd ever heard him say. Ever.
He leaned forward and said with startling clarity, "I don't want you kissing
people, Lucius."
W-What? Wait . . . WHAT!? Where on Elimine's good earth had THAT come
from? My mouth fell open. . . well, alright. My mouth didn't actually, literally
fall open, but my eyes widened and my hair fell back in a wave as I jerked in
surprise. This was only my outer reaction, and a painful tug in my chest added
to the war that shock and astonishment were battling in my mind.
Well . . . I thought that over. . . and wondered why. Raven, of course, did care
for me to some degree . . . perhaps he was just worried about . . . I gave a
mental sigh. Yes, he was just a bit worried. . .
My answering reply was slow, cautious, and to the point. "My . . . my vows
don't include chastity, Lord Raymond," I reminded gently. "St. Elimine does not
incur such things upon her children."
Raven fixated a look on me. Not his infamous glare -- he had never glared at me
-- but it was very close. I swallowed, had I misinterpreted him? "T-That's besides
the point," he snapped.
I flinched back slightly; what had gotten him in such a bad mood? Had Wil been
pestering him again, or had he spent the entire time mulling over revenge, again?
Had that been a stutter I detected? From Lord Raymond?
I watched as he scowled down at the ground, for once offering an explanation
without my asking. "I don't want you hurt, we'll be leaving these people as soon
as their mission is through. . ."
Oh.
"I . . ." What was this about? What was it to him if I wanted to kiss people?
Yes, Raymond was a bit of a control freak, but . . . "Do you intend to smother
me?" I asked, my voice demanding but still holding traces of my shock.
Raven's head swung up. "Are you in--" He paused. "Are you attracted to
someone?"
Well, he'd read far more into my remark then even I had. Was I really that
obvious? I hoped he never figured out just who it was that I was attracted
to. I looked him in the eye, unwilling to tell him anything other then the truth.
" . . . Yes."
"Who?" The demand was curt and rapid.
Well, I couldn't very well tell the truth to THAT. Not with him so near. . . I
felt myself shudder, and pull back, although I kept eye contact. "Please, please
don't make me say," I pleaded, eyes wide. Of course, if he asked again, I'd tell
him . . . he was my liege lord, after all . . . I had to obey him without question.
And he knew this; he knew that one plea was as far as I'd go . . . with most
things.
He looked away, down at his bound wrist. " . . . very well . . ." he muttered.
He began to tighten the wrappings absently, and I watched as his calloused
fingers nimbly undid and rewound the cloth around his arm. The action was
repeated, and I let myself be mesmerized by the simple movement and his
dexterous grace . . . I hope he didn't notice my staring . . .
"Lucius."
I jumped. The tone with which he said it was that of a call to order.
"Yes, milord?" I replied, dutifully setting down my bowl to speak.
He frowned, the furrow in his brow deepening, as though what he did was against
his better judgment. This, of course, only served to make me pay even more attention.
"What," he asked almost wonderingly, yet still with his commanding voice, "makes
you attracted to this . . . someone?"
"Why?" I blurted out, before wincing and touching my fingers to my mouth.
Why indeed -- why was Raven able to break my calm self so easily? Think,
Lucius, think. "Are . . ." My eyes flew open with realization. No. No, it couldn't
be.
"Are you attracted to someone, Raymond?" I blurted out the question in such
rush that I forgot to add the necessary 'Lord' in front of his name. I flushed at
that -- that, and the actual question -- but he didn't seem to notice either as he
released his bindings and flexed his wrist with a reluctant sort of gesture. He
was still scowling, and not meeting my eyes, but his voice belied his fierce-seeming
demeanor.
". . . Yes." It was said so, so reluctantly . . . I swallowed. I knew he wasn't
really attracted to Priscilla, for all that they'd gotten engaged . . . but he just
couldn't bring himself to get close to anyone. . . Who was it? Was it Rebecca?
Maybe?
"Oh . . . " I struggled to compose my thoughts as they strayed into a million
tangents at once. I couldn't lie to him, but if I described my vision of him to
his face, would he be able to tell that it was him I was talking about? "I'm . . .
the person I'm attracted to . . ." I quailed at getting into this description at all,
Raven wasn't stupid, but I had no choice but to tell him.
"They're kind, and protective, and once put to a task, sees it through to the
best of ability," I explained through a thick throat. "Something that's to be
done, to them, should be done right." I thought about that for a moment, and
smiled gently, humor finding it's way into my voice.
"Although, that might be due to the fact they're stubborn as a brick . . ." I
looked up at Raven solemnly, begging him with my eyes to understand.
"You see," I said quietly, "It's not just because of their looks, although,"
My smile widened. "He IS very handsome . . ."
Lord Raymond cast a questioning look at me. "He?" He asked softly.
I felt my eyes widen of their own accord, and looked down sharply. That
. . . was a very big mistake. I knew that most in the camp were indifferent to
other's preferences as long as people respected their own -- Legault had gone
around prying people about it for days -- but Raven had been one of the
few who had declined answer. "Well . . . I . . ." I stuttered, bashfully looking
into my lap.
I wasn't -- surprise surprise -- a very good liar, and Raymond would be
able to see through me. I took a deep breath. "Yes." Meeting his eyes, I
said clearly, "He."
He did nothing but nod, and look down. "Ah . . ."
We sat in silence, next to each other, a cheering bird in the background
along with the formless babble of our companions. Raven's shadow was
shielding me from the sun, and my exhaustion wasn't the only thing tempting me
to lean my head on milord's shoulder. The silence that was not truly silence
stretched, and I wondered if he really thought so horribly of me.
"The person," Lord Raymond said softly, breaking the silence between us
and causing me to look up at him as he paused uncertainly, "The person
I'm attracted to . . . is beautiful." I blinked back tears at his soft, husky statement.
I would give much to be able to be the recipient of such praise . . . the recipient
of his emotions, to have him speak that huskily in my ear . . . I resisted the
urge to sob and scolded myself. I should be grateful he's opening up about
his emotions at all.
Raven continued, in that low, wonderful tone. "They're generous, and selfless,
and would do anything for another . . . " He snorted, and sighed tensely.
"That worries me, because I know they'd risk their very life if they thought they
could save another's . . ." he trailed up, and glanced up at me sharply, as if
expecting me to say something.
What was there to say to THAT? 'I'm sorry, milord, but I'm too madly
in love in with you to say anything not involving a creative suggestion for
where your silly crush and her slutty rear end might belong'? I couldn't
even THINK that without feeling guilty; it would hardly be a silly crush if
he admitted to it.
Raymond didn't give his affections lightly to anyone . . . not even to me,
and I'd grown up with him . . . it had taken me months, even as a child,
to get him to play with me, and even though he HAD played a bit rough,
even then . . .
Perhaps memories were not the best thing to dwell on at the moment. . .
on the bright side, if he were disgusted with my preferences he wouldn't
have told me that. . . but that wasn't helping me at all.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "That sounds like a worthy person to be
attracted to." My voice was, thanks to a swift prayer, somewhat even.
Thank you, St Jude, Oh patron saint of hopeless causes . . .
Raven nodded stoically, and raised his eyes to meet mine. "As did yours."
His gaze was calm . . .
I wished it wasn't. I wished it held the fiery glaze that Guy had turned on
Matthew, the admiration and teasing care Serra bestowed on Erk, or
even the innocent affection Lady Priscilla occasionally looked at me
with. . . I wished it held anything at all . . .
And suddenly, he looked away, and abruptly stood up. "I have things to
attend to," he stated, his words muttered slightly as he left.
He left.
Just like that.
I watched him go, and realized . . . never once had I walked away from
Lord Raymond. Always . . . always, he was walking away from me. That
thought didn't settle well with my stomach, and I felt it slowly fill with stone
and begin to sink as I frowned. I slunk down on a rock -- the same one, I
realized, that Guy had sat on to think over Matthew -- and sighed.
"Well, that was obvious." A familiar, humor-filled voice broke my train of thought.
I glanced up, and watched as Matthew and Guy approached, both of their hair wet,
apparently from a bath in the stream.
Somehow, as the thief walked towards me, his usual swagger seemed more defined,
his casual air sloppily shown off by his tilted head and stance. Matthew's eyes
were half lidded, and he looked through his eyelashes in his lazy perusing. He
smirked, and reminded me of the cat who had eaten the canary . . . and gotten
away with it. Said canary -- Guy -- was following, and although his walk was
slightly disjointed, his face had a similar, lazy expression.
In any case, Matthew certainly shouldn't be talking about being obvious. Just
looking at them said a hundred things I didn't care to describe . . . not very
deeply, in any case. Not only that, but even before now he'd 'attacked' Guy
multiple times in the middle of the night, not to mention stolen his pants . . .
Matthew was a master of subtlety, but he had his off moments. I wisely didn't
mention any of this to him, though.
I smiled sweetly. "Did you two make up? Oh good." Matthew grinned like a
shark and Guy flushed; I couldn't help adding to my statement. "Although,
you two might want to try going a bit farther from camp next time you decide
to . . . reconcile your differences?" I said in an equally sweet tone. Guy
choked, and I glanced at him slightly.
"Your love bites are showing, Guy." Shaking my head, I gestured to his neck,
which his loose
Sacaen garb did little to cover in the front. Actually, several were showing,
and Matthew inspected them with a critical eye, seeming proud of his work.
The swordmaster stuttered something, before pinning the two sides of his
collar together to shield his neck from view. For all that Guy was blushing
like a virgin, I knew that such a description was much, much farther from
the truth then it might have been an hour ago.
I sighed again, and leaned forward sulkily. My teasing words were proof
of my irritable mood; I'd been through more emotional stress today then
in the past month combined, and it was only early afternoon. . . when we
finally moved out in two days, I'd be glad for the distraction.
Matthew -- and I really do hate his perceptiveness -- noticed my
downtrodden disposition. Surprisingly enough, I hadn't had much contact
with either of the two before that day; the tactician never put us near each
other in fights, yet now I knew far, far more about them then I wished to
know . . . the feeling seemed to be mutual. "You don't seem very happy,"
remarked Matthew.
I winced. "Maybe . . ." I admitted this grudgingly, even to myself. " . . . maybe
I'm just the tiniest bit jealous of you two."
Guy tilted his head. "But it's really kind of your doing that we're . . ." Guy feebly
tried to gesture a connection between Matthew and him. ". . .well . . . you know . . ."
"Really?" Matthew peered at me with warm eyes. "I guess I owe you my thanks."
"And I still owe you that drink," Guy said, nodding enthusiastically.
I looked up at them. They were trying to cheer me up, and even though it was
fairly obvious . . . I was grateful enough that they cared at all, and I felt the
teensiest bit better. "Thank you." I said, but it was drowned out by Matthew
slinging a casual arm around Guy -- Guy flushed at even the most casual
contact between them, I realized -- and saying, "Should I return the favor
with you and Raven?"
I choked. Matthew cocked an eyebrow; and I knew my oh-so-subtle
reaction (koffNOTkoff)had revealed my feelings on the matter. "I, uh . . ."
I found myself grasping for words. "Our situation is . . . different, and um . . ."
"How so?"
I looked at him, annoyed but not willing to show it. It was easy for HIM to
talk about these things, he'd just spent the past hour doing Elimine-knew-what
with Guy. . . "Well, don't affections generally need to be returned?"
Guy snorted. "Yeah, the situation IS different. You're actually willing to fess
up to -- OUCH! H-Hey, Matthew!" I felt my mouth twitch as Matthew
grabbed Guy's braid and yanked down sharply on it. He didn't let go, and
Guy pulled back experimentally, wincing, before ending up pulling again
and demanding the Matthew let him go.
"And," Matthew said amiably over Guy's shrieks, pretending he didn't have
a deadly swordsman on a short leash -- literally. "What makes you think
they aren't? Returned, I mean."
Lady Priscilla had said yes, she had admitted being completely comfortable
with the idea to me. After all . . . he was her BROTHER, even though such
matches weren't frowned upon in royal houses. . . . But then, Raven had
admitted to being attracted to someone else. But I had a feeling it wouldn't
be fair to Raven to reveal such a personal thing, so I settled for a curt,
"He's engaged."
Silence. I straightened my back, and stood. Well, that seemed to shut
them up nicely. I couldn't help but rub it in -- to myself, more then to
them. "It wasn't even arranged, Raymond proposed to HER" --nice,
big emphasis on the 'her' -- "and she said yes."
I blinked, and found myself wondering just who Raven DID like. "He
told me he . . . well . . . I . . ." I struggled with words, not knowing why I
was so desperate to say them to begin with.
I found myself talking aloud, more to the grass more then to the prying couple,
more just to say the words then to actually have them heard. ". . . so
maybe I'm not exactly beautiful, despite what Priscilla says . . . people tell
me all the time that I look like a girl, though, and I can agree with that . . .
isn't that close enough? And maybe I'm not exactly generous, I mean, I'm
jealous of alot of things . . ." I hesitated. I was really quite scathingly jealous
of Matthew and Guy's passion for each other. "I suppose that also means I'm
not self-less . . . but I've risked my life for people before . . ." Actually, just
one person . . . Lord Raymond. I felt my eyes tearing up again, and I fingered
my saint charms absently.
"I've at least got my saints for all of those things," I muttered, "What have
they got that I don't?" 'They', of course, being the horrible nasty unknown
person who I really hate -- if I could find them -- that MY Lord Raymond liked.
I wanted to throw myself at the ground at the ground and cry like a child . . .
like a child, youare, Lord Raymond had said . . . "Does he really see me
as only a child?" I whispered. A child . . . someone to be protected and
cared for, but never interested in beyond that . . . I really was crying, too,
which I only realized when a wet trail made it's way down my cheek.
I sniffed and rubbed it away with my sleeve.
An almost petite clearing of the throat jolted me back. Guy looked
extremely awkward. "Aw . . . c'mon, Lucius . . ." He leaned back, hands
stuffed uncomfortably in his pockets. "I HATE it when girls cry . . ."
Matthew choked, and while normally I would have protested such a remark,
I just gave him a sharp glare before I sighed. Really, I felt too tired to speak
up much. "I feel awful . . ." I muttered. "Embarrassing, telling anyone that . . .."
Silence.
"I'll think of something." I heard Matthew say. I looked up.
Guy, for a moment, seemed as though he too was about to offer assurance,
before his eyes widened and he turned to face his companion. "M-Matthew!"
The apparent dismay and urgency caused Matthew to snap his head to
listen as the distressed swordmaster yanked on Matthew's cape anxiously.
"We . . ." Guy said in horror, "We missed lunch!"
Ah, yes. The horror, indeed.
I let out a small smile, and giving them my thanks, as well as telling them that
any actions on their part weren't necessary -- oh, right, like they'd actually
listen -- I made my way back to camp. I wondered if it would be considered
lazy if I went to take a nap. It wasn't as though I couldn't, these WERE
rest days after all, but it might throw my sleeping schedule off. And really,
it simply wouldn't do for me to head into battle, staggering from exhaustion.
Even if I was about to stagger from exhaustion right now. I let out a tiny groan
and slumped onto a tent-pole, allowing my eyes to slide shut as I mentally
went over things I could do that could keep my mind off sleep. Think think think . . .
" -- told me why you're still here." A testy, voice snapped through my dull
thoughts. I snapped to attention. Lord Raymond?! I thought he had things
to attend to . . .? My hands automatically went up to flatten my hair and
straighten my robes, before I realized what I was doing and stopped.
Flushing, I forced my hands to my sides and looked around, hoping to see
where he'd gone.
Wil's voice piped up. "But Sir Raven! I just wanted to --"
"No." Raymond's voice was flat and monotonous, even compared to its
normal tight tones. This meant, to my Raven-senses, that he wasn't very
happy at the moment, and that if Wil wanted to live to see another sunrise,
he would be wise to back off. Wil, needless to say, wasn't very wise.
The archer persisted, dancing around to Raven's side. "But I --"
"No."
"You --"
"No."
Hiding my mouth with my hand as it betrayed me into a grin, I watched
as Wil skidded to a halt, finally reading the danger signs and giving up.
Scowling at Raven's retreating back -- how dare he scowl at my Raven?
-- he peered around for someone new to 'converse' with. And of course,
my luck being poor as it was, his eyes immediately met mine.
"Lucius! Hey!"
Raven heard my name and pivoted slightly. I sent him a wave, and managed
to get out half a bow before Wil barreled into me with a hug. I tried
desperately to pry him loose, and mouthed over to Raven in my desperation,
'please help me.' Really, he's too cruel sometimes, he just stood there and watched.
I really should watch what I wish for. Talking to Wil certainly left no room
for being tired.
"Good afternoon, Wil," I said, forcing away the thick tone that my drowsiness
tried to force on me. "How's your aim?"
Wil beamed -- must be at the prospect of being able to talk to someone who
both A) listened B) replied, and C) had more to say then " . . . " -- and
immediately rattled off a reply. "Oh, my aim's doing just fine! And let me tell you,
Rath's so cool, he's been teaching me a few things about riding and shooting,
which is really kinda scary since his horse is huge -- Have you seen that thing?
What am I saying, of course you have -- but in any case, Rath's been helping
with that; neat, huh?"
Processing that took longer then it should. "I suppose so. I don't know Rath
very well. He's very quiet," I said, tilting my head to side attentively. I shot
a side look to Lord Raymond; he was still watching, with that strange,
focused look, as if trying to read deeper into the conversation then necessary.
"Yeah, he kinda is," Wil admitted blithely. "And he's serious, but that's a good
thing because it makes him such a good teacher! He's always so focused!
But I can see why, it's hella hard just to RIDE that beast, so he's probably
got the focus of, I dunno . . . a rock or something, to be able to both ride
and shoot like that!" He grinned. "And he's learning how to use a sword,
Lady Lyn says that he'll need to when she gives him that Orion's Bolt. I'm
lucky he's taking the time to teach me like this, I'm going to see him right now."
I frowned. "Wait, Rath's getting the Orion's Bolt? I thought . . . she was
giving that to you?"
"Nah! Well, yeah, but no!" Wil shook his head, putting one hand in his
pocket and gesturing with the other. "She got another one; Legault nicked
it off some sniper a few battles ago, though it kinda makes you wonder
what a sniper was doing with an Orion's Bolt . . . I mean, they're already
a sniper, right? Why do they need it?"
"I suppose it was the sniper's business to know," I said evenly, watching not
Wil, but Raymond, as he slowly stalked off. As he disappeared from my
line of sight, I finished, "And Legault probably silenced that knowledge forever."
"Yeah, I guess. . ." Wil pouted for a moment, before perking up. "Hey! Y'don't
think you could come along with me, huh?" I blinked. "To the lesson, I mean,
I'm heading there now, and I kinda suck at it and you've got that nifty Heal staff."
I gave him a wry smile. "Got a few bruises last time? I suppose." I WAS
looking for something to do, and this might be amusing. . . although, I did need to. . .
"Yeah! And you can meet Rath!" Wil bubbled, grabbing my wrist -- I squeaked
-- and dragging me through camp. "I mean, you've already met Rath, but you
haven't MET met Rath, cuz you kinda have to get to know him in order for
him to say something other then dot-dot-dot, know what I mean? Eh, guess
not, but that's besides the point."
"I . . . I suppose not," I said haltingly, having not paid attention to what he
said, since all my attention was on keeping his brisk pace without falling over
both mine and his feet.
"Yeah! I said I'd meet Rath right around here, and he's never late, even
though I think I am." Wil frowned, and then cupped his hand around his
mouth to make his voice even (eek) louder. Rath! Hey, hey Rath, are ya here yet?"
"Is that you, Wil?" I heard a voice sound to our left, along with the distinct
clopping of hooves. "I've just come from camp."
Wil grinned as Rath came into view from behind a large oak. "Rath, hey,
look, I brought Lucius along today. You know, you've seen Lucius, right?"
I found myself wanting to inch behind Wil as the nomad's intense eyes focused
onto me. Wil really must be oblivious if he can stand that for minutes at a time.
" . . . " Rath led his beast towards us, and I realized his silence was encouraged
by my presence.
I gave Rath a small smile. "Wil invited me to watch, namely for my healing abilities."
In reply, Rath looked down at me from his considerably taller height, completely
expressionless. He made no threatening moves, and his face was completely
blank . . . but I could sense a certain iron will behind him, a certain strength
. . . it made me nervous. I fought the urge to shrink back from his inspecting gaze,
feeling that he could somehow sense my uneasiness around him.
"Er . . . it IS OK if he stays, right Rath?" Wil looked up at the nomad with a
sheepish, bashful sort of grin. After making that note, I had to do a double
take at Wil . . . what? I had a number of adjectives pinned on the archer --
including and not limited to loud, obnoxious, brash, and tactless -- but 'bashful'
wasn't one of them. Not to mention, of course, Rath's formation of complete
sentences. I thought he only did that around Lady Lyn.
Was I . . . missing something?
I stared at Wil, then at Rath, then back at Wil again. And then I said, as
carefully and as diplomatically as I could, "I don't mind either choice."
Gesturing to the high sun with my staff, I continued, "I was going to have a
fairly uneventful afternoon anyway."
After sending Wil a look that was somehow both stoic and confused, Rath
turned back to me and gave me a slow nod. " . . . Fine." I kept smiling,
concentrating desperately on looking harmless. It was very hard to do,
since I was rather small and (shudder) girly to begin with. To tell the truth,
I found Rath to be quite intimidating . . .
Wil didn't seem to notice, and with many clumsy grabs, swung himself into the
saddle. I tilted my head as he tottered atop the horse, looking completely out
of place as he tried to keep his balance. Rath guided his hands to the reins,
and Wil grabbed them in a death grip.
"Hold them looser," commanded Rath, prying Wil's fingers loose. "Dig your
heels in, like last time, lightly. A bit harder then that . . . there. Lean forward."
The horse under Wil began to move, albeit slowly. Wil teetered a bit, then
steadied. With a grin, the archer turned to Rath excitedly. "H-Hey, this isn't
so bad! I think I can -- oh, wait -- eep!ACK!" I covered my eyes as Wil
began to slide to the right, but didn't quite block out the loud THUMP that
followed as he hit the dirt.
I began to advance with my Heal staff, but the nomad held up a commanding
hand to stop me as he peered at Wil. To me, Rath looked stoic as usual, but
Wil seemed to be able to differentiate Rath's expressions as I was able to tell
with Raven's.
Wil muttered as he stumbled up and wiped the dust of his knees. "No, not
your fault, Rath. I mean, it's not like you could force me to stay on the horse
. . . well you could if you had enough rope, I guess, but that defeats the point,
doesn't it?"
". . . Try again," Rath nodded, and Wil swung himself awkwardly into the saddle
once more. The lesson continued . . . in a sense.
THUMP. "Oof! Ow . . . that hurt . . . no, no, I can take it!"
THUMP. "OUCH! No no, I'm good, I'm fine, see?"
THUMP. "I'm OK! Really, that didn't hurt too bad! Oh . . . er . . . Lucius?
Is that bone, ah, is that supposed to bend that way?"
Only Will could remain that cheerful after being slammed repeatedly into the
ground by his own incompetence. Somewhere through the middle, I
switched my Heal for my Mend staff.
Rath, for his credit, was indeed a diligent teacher. He pointed out gently,
if a bit gruffly, to Wil why he'd been sent sprawling, and then told him how
to correct it. For the archer's credit, Wil never fell for the same reason twice
and was actually making progress, but apparently . . . there was more than
one way to fall off a horse.
To the horse's credit . . . well, there wasn't much credit to be handed there.
THUMP. "Um . . . that one hurt . . . "
Rath didn't say anything, he just turned to me and stepped back, letting me
run my healing magic over Wil once more.
Wil got up . . . and my Mend staff promptly snapped in two with a loud
twanging crack. I'll never get that, how after an exact number of uses, my
staves break -- and usually at the most inconvenient times. Really, and to
lose a Mend staff at this point in time of our quest, so near
the end . . . I stared at the clean break, and then let out a resigned sigh.
"I'll have to tell the tactician about this," I mulled unhappily.
Our tactician was rather odd in the sense that he/she demanded on having
an up-to-date inventory of all weaponry. Mind you, I couldn't fault him/her
in any way, we hadn't lost a single fighter yet, but . . . he/she was really
quite . . . um . . . unorthodox. I was afraid that he/she wouldn't be happy
when he/she saw the split stave; apparently, the next shop was quite a ways
away.
"Oooh, right! Sorry about that!" Wil managed to wince perkily -- quite an
achievement, in my point of view -- as he babbled on. "Er . . . I'll make do
without the healing from now on then . . . Immean, I did before you came
along, after all."
"I'll go directly, then," I said with a small sigh. "I'll see you later, Wil . . . you
too, Rath."
Rath wasn't looking at me, he was peering at the shaded and reasonably
hidden edge of the area. I frowned, but he did give me a nod with a cursory
" . . . " before I left. Wil waved enthusiastically, along with a not-so-cursory
ramble about the best way to get to the tactician's tent.
I started back to the camp through the small grove of trees . . . and felt a
small niggling feeling at the nape of my neck. I tensed up, but kept walking,
if at a faster pace. While my instincts weren't as enhanced as Nil's or Ninian's,
I knew this much: I was being watched, or followed. Or both.
Now, I realize that considering the events at lunch, I should have been able to
tell instantly who was following me. However, I plea in my defense that I was
tired, frustrated (in more ways then one) and my mind wasn't working at a
hundred percent capacity. At whatever capacity it was working on, however,
my brain was trying to find a way to perhaps outsmart or outrun my pursuer.
. . . Hmph, don't laugh. Lately, with all the fighting and battles and such, we
all had a perfectly legitimate reason to be paranoid. While I wasn't as
paranoid as, say, Heath usually was, I'd learned to stay on guard.
Which brought me back to my predicament: my pursuer was now very,
very close.
Relying purely on whatever self-defense instinct I had, I whirled on the
presence, with my hair going everywhere and a rather un-manly shriek,
wielding my only current weapon with an unpractical twirl. My full 120
pounds slammed into the person, and we tumbled back, ending up with
me sprawled on their stomach and the point of my stave near the side of
their neck.
I'm sure I was VERY threatening, what with the fact that my hair was now a
leafy, twiggy mess and I was pointing a HEAL STAFF at their throat, but
at the time I was too full of righteous indignation to care, because I'd recognized
them immediately. I shouldn't have been as surprised as I was.
"L-Lord Raymond!" I squeaked, appalled that both A) my liege lord was
indeed stalking me and B) my liege lord was indeed bearing the brunt of my
weight. Because, you know, I'd ATTACKED him.
"M-My apologies!" I squeaked, unable to keep the horror out of my voice. I'd
just gone against my primary instinct to protect Raven -- I'd attacked him! Not
that I could have actually hurt him or anything, what with having limp noodles for
muscles and a beneficiary for a weapon . . . but what mattered was the principle
of the thing! "I-I didn't know it was you . . . a-and I'm very --"
"Tense." Raven said, raising an eyebrow. I jerked my head up, blinking at him
bewilderedly. A half-smile appeared on his lips. "Calm down, Lucius."
I had an easier time relaxing then I should have -- the rumbling vibrations that
Raven's voice made through his chest and shoulders was very relaxing, as was
his steady breathing. Trying to match my breath to his, I buried my head into the
crook between his collar and shoulder bone, spending a good ten seconds just
breathing in his scent . . . a strange, heady mixture of pine and mint and sweat . . ..
It was somewhere around then that I realized the exact position I -- no, WE were
in. When we'd fallen, Raymond's arm had made its way around my waist. My face
was buried in his collarbone, and I'd long since dropped my Heal in favor of
grasping the front of his tunic. Needless to say, it was a picture that elicited
several other images . . . I felt my breath hitch, and my face grew very warm as
I slowly lifted it to meet Raven's gaze.
He looked at me as well, and we stared at each other blankly. Something was
beginning to glow in Raven's eyes, as though the crimson was beginning to burn
like an ember. . . a flicker of recognition began to form in the front of my mind . . .
But it was cut off as Raven sat, up, taking me with him. I yelped as he easily
plucked me off of him, lifting me up. I was in his arms for a full few seconds before
he set me delicately on my feet, and the blood rushed to my head at the sudden
change in position. I dizzily wondered at his abrupt reaction, when just a moment
ago he'd been pleasantly amused at the situation. I steadied myself with a hand
on the nearest elm.
Raymond walked five feet away, then back, his brows furrowed in what seemed
to be concentration. He was completely bewildered by something, although
you wouldn't know it if you didn't know him.
The intense look along with the pacing . . . most would mistake this for anger,
but I knew better.
"Lord Raymond?" I questioned worriedly, stepping up to him. "Are you . . . well?"
With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I wondered, was this my fault?
He turned away, obviously trying to avoid my eye contact. "I'm fine," he said
bluntly, his voice somehow rougher then usual.
With a frown, I remembered the righteous indignation I was supposed to be
feeling. "Lord Raymond," I started slowly. The uncharacteristic, almost
demanding tone in my voice caused his head to turn back to face me as I spoke.
I stepped towards him, putting one lightly coiled fist on my hip.
"Have you been following me?"
There was no pause as he nodded. I stepped back, trying to comprehend
what this might mean.
Shameless. . . I have never in my memory gotten truly, really honestly angry
with Raven -- frustrated and aggravated, yes, but never angry -- but this . . .
this really took the proverbial cake. "You really ARE trying to smother me,
aren't you?" I demanded in a tone of voice I didn't think I had.
Raven's subtle shift in posture showed his surprise as well. "Is there a reason
you're doing this?" I asked, less gently then I normally might have. "I deserve to
know."
He looked away again. " . . . I don't know why." His voice really was quite rough . . .
I frowned again, but this time with worry. "You sound hoarse," I noted softly,
telling myself that his health came before figuring out his reasons. "Are you
coming down with something? You should let me take a look . . ." Raven flinched
away when I tried to place my hand on his shoulder. . . I pulled in a short
breath. Had I done something wrong? I swallowed my pride as well as the
lump in my throat. "Or . . . at least get Serra to . . ."
Silence. I circled around him so I could see his face, and he turned his head
slightly to look at me. I don't know what spurred me to say it, but I added in
a small hopeful little voice, "For my sake?"
Raymond blinked, and to my surprise, let out a weary sigh. He never showed
any sort of weakness, be it exhaustion or frustration or anything else, so
openly. " . . . Very well," he muttered to the side. He jerked up from his
leaning posture against the tree to face the camp, and looked back at me.
"I'll be training near camp. Call me if you need me." With that, he adjusted
his sword sheath and belts and crossed his arms, heading back in the
direction of the enclosure of tents.
The grove had seemed quiet before I'd noticed Raven, but now it seemed
deathly silent. What had just happened . . . he didn't know why he was following
me? That didn't make much sense at all . . . I was too tired to be thinking at
that sort of level . . .
I leaned back against the tree, reveling in the feel of the bark on my back. It felt
rather nice, to just rest like this. Oh, no, I couldn't sleep, of course, I still had to
report my broken Mend to the tactician -- but maybe if I could have just rested
there, and maybe let my eyes shut the tiniest bit . . . And as much as I hate to
admit it, I would have fallen asleep, if it weren't for the whistle of air and audible
'KER-THUNK' that audibly followed.
I blinked twice, rather blankly, at the spear that had imbedded itself into the
tree beside my head. Then I looked over at the forest to see a rather large,
black armored man atop an oversized horse, yanking another spear from his
saddlebag.
. . . Well, this wasn't good.
I groped automatically at my hip for my spellbook, mentally preparing
to chant the words . . . before remembering that none of us had counted
on a battle, it being a respite from the toils we'd gone through over the
past few months. I hadn't bothered bringing one with me . . . so all my
spellbooks were back in my tent, tucked away near my staves and Erk's scrolls.
I peered at my only available weapon, a single Heal staff, then back at the
paladin, who was preparing his second attack.
Ah, no. No, this wasn't good at all.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Hmm . . . it's not often I get actual threats from reviewers. Rather scary,
actually. Well? What'd ya think?
Next chapter: the last installment of Don't Get Over It, and my pathetic attempt
at a battle scene. Joy.
(Ya know, I write faster with reviews. . . nudge nudge Heh . . . subtle, ain't I?)