A/N; Merry Christmas! An early update for this week since I'm leaving on a family trip soon.
Chapter Five: Wherever You Go
Wherever you go, go with all your heart.
-Confucius
xxXxx
The young trapper stared shamelessly at the thin strip of green in the distance. Was it really there, or was she having another dream? Her heart beat unsteadily in her chest, but that didn't stop her from running as fast as possible for the strip of green.
The strip began to widen into a carpet as she drew closer, but it took another day of heavy running for the snow to disappear underneath her feet. Trees slowly became more abundant, and the air was no longer cold enough to make her breath steam like smoke.
And the colors! Green and brown were the dominant ones, in more shades than she could count in the plant life and the ground, beautifully accented by even more colors in the forms of flowers and birds. There were even some butterflies flying around!
"This is amazing," she whispered, kneeling in order to caress the grass with both hands. It was nothing like snow; actually more akin to fur! It had long strands like hair, but wasn't as thick as fur. But it was soft, cool, and had a pleasant scent that she inhaled greedily.
"How could my parents just leave a place like this?" she asked aloud, even though she knew that she wouldn't get an answer. Well, other than distant birdsong, that is.
After a while, she forced herself to start walking again, but much slower than she had when it was snow beneath her feet. She still took breaks to hunt and sleep, but the urgency wasn't as bad as before. Perhaps knowing that the threat of snow storms was now behind her allowed her to relax, just a little bit.
ooOoo
Roughly a week after she left the Northern Lands, a sharp cry was heard through the forest, sending many birds into the sky.
The young trapper looked up from the rabbit she was skinning, stuffed it in the satchel, and immediately started running.
"Someone help us!" another voice cried out, just as the trapper broke through a large hedge and jumped a small height to a strange dirt path that was surprisingly wide.
She looked up, assessing what had happened in an instant. A band of robbers had surrounded two strange-looking covered wagons, killing off men that were all wearing the same kind of clothes.
Everyone had stopped moving when she revealed herself, staring at her with open mouths.
The young trapper glared at the robbers. "Leave them alone or face my wrath," she growled at them in as menacing a tone as possible.
One with a rather ugly scar across his face flinched back from her, but stood up tall. "Well, what are you waiting for? Kill him!"
Two of the bandits were brave enough to approach her, but they were so scared that it took almost no effort at all to break one man's arm and deliver a blow to the other one's head. He fell to the ground unconscious.
"Who's next?" she snarled, popping her knuckles threateningly as she stepped closer to the strange wagons.
A few of the bandits fled in fear, but others stood their ground. Since she didn't want to actually kill anyone, she was careful to make her blows incapacitate rather than eliminate her opponents.
The bandit with the ugly scar pulled out a giant dagger, or it might have been a sword, like her father had told her about.
He swung it madly, but all he managed to do was cut one of the girl's arms before she punched his lights out.
"I hate stupid people," she muttered under her breath, keeping one hand over her wound as she looked over her shoulder.
The first wagon had large windows in it, enough to see that there was an old man and a young girl; perhaps the ones that had called out for help. They, along with the remaining men that dressed the same, were staring at her fearfully. The second wagon appeared to have supplies, although she couldn't tell, since everything was covered with a sturdy cloth.
"How many were hurt?" she asked, remembering to use her masculine voice.
"T-Ten of us, good spirit," the man inside the wagon said nervously as some of the servants tried to soothe the terrified horses.
She gripped her wound a little tighter as a bitter smile crossed her lips. "I assure you I'm completely human. See?" The girl let go of her arm long enough to give them a glimpse of her blood before gripping it again. She didn't want them to see how the stain of her blood would fade from her white shirt. "Was that all the help you needed?"
"I… I don't know," the man stammered, still staring at her in fear. "We have a long way to go and there could be more robbers along the way."
The trapper looked down at the scarred man, probably their leader. She picked up his long sword, as well as relieving him of a strange belt that had held it at his waist for him.
She belted it over her own waist, remembering too late that it would change to white. She could hear their sharp intakes of breath as both the red stains on her sleeve and the brown scabbard faded completely white, making her flinch slightly.
But that didn't stop her from sliding the slightly rusted sword into the scabbard. "If there are any more robbers out there," she said slowly, giving them a humorless smile. "They will be in for a nasty surprise. I'll keep watch from the trees, so don't fear to continue your journey." Just to drive her point home, she gave the man a respectful bow and marched to the side of the path to jump up the small cliff and disappear through the thick green foliage.
"… Father? What was that?" she heard the young girl ask as the men wearing the same clothes began loading their wounded and dead onto the supply wagon.
"I don't know, dear heart. Not even albinos are as white as that man."
'There's that word again. I wonder if they're a race of people that Papa forgot to tell me about.' She shrugged it off and pulled out a clean rag to bind her cut with.
"Still, it was rather lucky that he's chosen to help," one of the men said as he snapped his fingers at the others. His suit was a little different, perhaps ranking him as the leader of the servants.
"Quite right. Well, let's be on our way. Who or whatever that man is, I think he can be trusted," the old man said nervously, as he eyed where the trapper was currently hiding.
'Why wouldn't I be trustworthy? I just saved him and his daughter.' She shook off the thought and sighed as she began sneaking through the trees to follow after them. At some points, she even traveled ahead of them to be sure of their safety.
By the time the company stopped to make camp, the sun was starting to set. The young trapper slipped out of the bushes and made a polite bow to the man as he stumbled out of the strange wagon.
"There appears to be no other bandits in the area, but the ones we've already met may decide to catch up with us."
"I rather doubt that, after how badly you trounced them," he said with a nervous laugh.
She shrugged dismissively, but stepped away from the carriage when the horses became a little too agitated by her presence. "I don't like taking chances with lives. I'll keep watch to be on the safe side."
"Aren't you hungry, sir? I mean, you do eat, don't you?"
"Of course I eat; I already told you I'm human." She looked at her cut sleeve with distaste, seeing the equally pale bandage underneath. "I'm just a human that got on the wrong side of a fairy, that's all."
"You are? What did you do?" he asked in horror.
She gave him a long look and sighed. The last thing she wanted to do was explain what had happened when she was seven; he was already terrified enough of her. "Don't worry, my curse is completely personal. It won't touch you or anything that is yours. If it could harm you, I wouldn't have come along." She once again bowed to the man and retreated to the trees.
The trapper bit back a sigh as she climbed a tree to sit on a high branch. 'I wonder how many more times I'm going to get asked that. Does it even matter?'
She scanned both ends of the strange dirt path, finding nothing. So she kept her eyes on the forest, on alert for any suspicious movements.
But no, nothing appeared to be wrong. Perhaps the bandits she had already taken care of were the only ones around. She leaned against the sturdy trunk and watched the stars slowly emerge.
How strange. The stars looked exactly the same here as they did up north. With one finger, she began tracing imaginary pictures between the shimmering dots.
"Sir? Sir, I have some food for you," a hesitant voice called up to her.
The trapper looked down to see the young girl from the wagon, holding a loaf of bread and an… apple? Pomegranate? She couldn't tell from up here. "I'll be right down," she called in a gruff voice, standing up in order to jump from branch to branch.
The last one was too small for her weight, making it snap and send her to the ground.
"Ouch!" she cried out, landing directly on her backside.
"Are you all right?" the girl asked in horror, kneeling next to her.
"Y-Yeah, just a little bruised," she assured the younger girl, rubbing at her rear with one hand. "By the way, don't try that; it hurts."
The young girl giggled and offered her the bread and apple. "You're funny."
"Thank you." The trapper looked from the two items in her hands, choosing to take a big bite out of the apple. It crunched between her teeth, and was very sweet and juicy.
"You're not supposed to eat the core," the girl informed her with another giggle, but was a little too late to stop her.
"I don't care. It was delicious," the pale woman replied, just remembering to keep her voice gruff like a man's. She started tearing bits off of the loaf to eat them slowly. Even the bread was better than she had ever tasted! As much as she didn't want to admit it, even her mother's didn't taste as good.
"You make that sound as if you've never had an apple before," the girl said, sitting down next to her.
"I haven't, that was my first one. Thank you for giving it to me. Have you already eaten?" she suddenly asked, holding the partial loaf back to the young girl.
"Yes, but thank you. How come you've never had an apple before? Our kingdom always has apples."
"This is my first time out of the Northern Lands. Only an occasional tree grows up there, but there's a lot of snow and ice."
The little girl gasped in shock. "You're from… up there?" She pointed into the woods.
"Actually, I think north is that way." The trapper pointed in the opposite direction. "But yes, I'm from up there."
"Is it cold up there?"
She nodded after swallowing her mouthful of bread. "Very cold. That's partially why I came here; I wanted to see what grass is like." She patted the ground next to her, running the green blades through her fingers. "It's even better than I hoped."
"Grass is definitely better, but you can't sled on it," the girl informed her with a shy smile. But one of her little hands wandered to the soft fur of her cape, and ran her fingers through it. "What kind of fur is this?"
"Bear," she whispered, thinking back to that day.
"No bear has white fur!"
"Polar bears do. They're very big and very mean."
"Did you kill this one?" The little girl tugged on the edge of her cloak.
"… Yes. I'd rather not talk about it, if it's all right with you."
"Oh. Okay. Do… all Northern people look like you?" the tiny girl asked slowly, as if she was afraid.
"Not a one of them; I'm cursed. So, little one; where is your company headed?" the trapper asked, hoping to avoid more questions.
The little girl beamed shyly. "My father has arranged my betrothal, so we're going to go meet my future family."
The trapper stared at her in shock. "But you're just a child! Why get engaged so soon?"
"Father says I'll understand when I'm older, but he says the boy I'm going to marry is very nice. I hope he knows how to play chess."
"… I bet he does," the trapper comforted, although still taken aback by the strange custom. 'Whatever happened to letting children be children while they have the chance?' She finished her bread, and dared a small smile at the child. "You should probably head back to your father. Little girls like you need to get their rest."
"Pretty girls like you should stay safe," her father whispered in her mind.
She flinched at the memory, making the girl look at her worriedly.
"Are you all right?"
"… Of course. Now get to bed, little one. We probably have a long way to go."
The little girl nodded happily, but gave her a hug around the neck as well as a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for rescuing us, Mr. Bear."
"Y-You're welcome. Now scoot," she reminded the child, trying not to think about how good it felt to be hugged.
She gave the trapper another smile, but disappeared through the bush to rejoin the camp.
"What is your name, by the way?" the trapper asked, unreasonably curious.
"Marian Fitzwalter. What's yours?"
"Um, well… I don't have one," the older girl admitted, staring at her perfectly white snow boots. "Not since I got cursed."
"Oh. I'm sorry. Good night, Mr. Bear."
It was hard to keep from smiling at the child. "Good night, Marian."
ooOoo
It took longer for the rest of the company to warm up to her. In fact, in the week that it took to reach their destination, only Marian, her father, and the captain of the guard were willing to actually speak to her without shaking from fear.
"So, that's a castle?" the trapper asked, staring at the large stone hut, larger than anything she had ever seen before, except a few mountains.
"Yes, that is Locksley castle. They will be most grateful when I tell them of your rescue," Lord Fitzwalter told her with a small smile.
She looked at Marian, and allowed herself a small smile as she lightly jogged next to the carriage. "I bet they will. Well, it's not too likely that you'll meet up with robbers again, so I guess it's time to part ways." 'I need to jump into a river before I roast! Why is the sun so hot?' She was definitely having second thoughts about wearing three shirts in this kind of weather, and her feet were sweating profusely in her snow boots.
"What, no!" he protested. "Lord Locksley will be just as grateful to you as I am, and he would handsomely reward you for protecting us."
She gave him a surprised look. "Do you really think that's why I helped you? A reward?"
He looked at her with surprise.
She sighed a strange growl and shook her head. "I help to help; that is all. I still have a long way to go before reaching my own destin-" She cut off with wide-eyed horror and hopped completely over the carriage.
Even as the lord and his daughter gasped in surprise, a strange projectile shot out of the forest, faster than anything the trapper had ever seen. But, somehow, she was able to snatch it right out of the air before it could hit Marian, landing on her knees on the opposite side of the wagon.
"Mr. Bear!" the girl cried out as the trapper gasped from the pain. She dropped the strange stick, which was dripping with her blood. Two long slashes had been cut deep into her palm.
The servant driving the carriage muttered a startled oath as the horses reared and neighed madly. The soldiers that were escorting them drew closer to the carriage with raised weapons.
"Oh no, did my son hit anyone?" a deep voice called out from between the trees.
Lord Fitzwalter looked deep into the forest, looking angrier than the trapper had ever seen him before. "You almost hit my daughter, Robin! You ended up hitting Mr. Bear!"
"Mr. Bear? Who on earth is Mr. Bear?" the man asked, pushing back a few bushes only to stop cold outside the foliage. Wordlessly, he stared at the completely white woman.
The trapper gave him a grim smile, and showed her cut palm as she searched her satchel for another bandage. "His lordship was referring to me." 'Dang it; why don't I have more cloth for bandages?'
"Oh, Mr. Bear! I'm so sorry!" Marian sobbed, forcing the carriage door open so that she could stumble out and wrap her arms around the older girl's neck. "You got hurt over me again!"
"These things happen, Marian. Thank you, sir," the trapper said gratefully as the man not only pulled out a handkerchief, but personally wrapped it around her wounded hand. The cloth was white, so he couldn't see her curse in action.
"I really am sorry about my son, I'll have him move his target the other way. Usually he's a much better shot, but…" He gave Marian an affectionate, though slightly sly smile. "He's very nervous about meeting you, little maiden."
The trapper could feel the girl tremble slightly and patted her shoulder in comfort.
The man noticed the interaction with a raised eyebrow. "Are you a new servant of Lord Fitzwalter?"
"I was actually considering hiring him, but Mr. Bear is a trapper that was kind enough to help us against a band of thieves on the way here."
The lord was still looking at the trapper and at the hand still in his grasp.
Feeling a bit nervous about the way he was holding her hand, the trapper respectfully wiggled her hand out of his grasp. "But now that you're here, all of you should be safe. Be a good girl, Marian. I need to get going."
"With how deep those cuts are? Nonsense, I have an excellent physician working for me. Come out here, Robin!" Lord Locksley called, placing himself in a way that would discourage the trapper from leaving. "There's a special lady waiting for you!"
'He's talking about Marian. He's talking about Marian. Steady, easy girl…'
A tousle-haired boy stumbled out of the bushes, with a strange looking branch slung over one shoulder. He brushed some leaves from one sleeve, never taking his eyes off of the little girl.
Marian stared back at him, her little blue eyes wide with wonder.
"Go on," the trapper whispered, taking the girl's arms off her neck, and gently urging her to step forward.
She gave the trapper a nervous look, but took a few steps closer to the boy to curtsy to him. "Greetings, Robin of Locksley."
"G-Greetings, Marian of Fitzwalter," the boy stammered, blushing redder than an apple as he gave her a polished bow. "Welcome to the Locksley estate."
"Welcome, indeed!" his father exclaimed, smiling widely at Lord Fitzwalter. "Please, I have been preparing a banquet for your arrival, and we wouldn't want all that good food to go to waste. To the castle!"
"To the castle, and don't you try to sneak away, Mr. Bear," Lord Fitzwalter scolded as she started sidestepping away from the carriage.
"You're safely at your destination, there's no need for me to stay-"
"Stuff and nonsense! You are welcome at Locksley Hall, and I insist that you at least stay one night." He walked up behind her and started gently pushing her by the shoulders toward his castle. "Come along, Robin. Our guests are tired."
"Yes, Father," the lad replied, shyly offering one arm to Marian.
She smiled just as shyly before putting her hand on his arm.
'How did I get talked into this? Maybe I should have left earlier… but then Marian might have gotten killed. Dang it, why do I have a bad feeling about this?'
ooOoo
"What was that thing you shot back there? Really, just out of this bow? How does it work- oops," the cursed man said sheepishly as he accidentally broke the string of Robin's bow.
"You pulled too hard on the string. How strange, you didn't look like you were pulling all that hard," Lord Locksley noted in confusion as he took the bow back.
Mr. Bear looked incredibly guilty, but said nothing.
As Lady Locksley watched her husband restring the bow, her eyes kept straying to the pale man who had come to the Fitzwalter family's rescue. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something… off, about the trapper. It wasn't enough to trigger her sense of danger, but it was enough to make her pay attention to the cursed youth.
Later that day, he only seemed to get stranger.
"Didn't I provide you with different clothes?" her husband asked in confusion, when Mr. Bear joined them in the main hall for supper.
"I'm wearing them. Why do you ask?" he asked while sitting down in the chair Lord Locksley gestured at.
"The servants must have misunderstood me; I asked for something less… disturbing. Not to be offensive, but is it necessary to wear all that white?"
Again that guilty look. "It's not something I have a choice in, sir. My curse doesn't allow for color."
"Well, could you at least remove the cloak? We're indoors, after all, and it's a warm evening."
The trapper started studying the sturdy shoes he had been given. "I can't remove the cloak. It's the root of my curse."
"If you don't mind my asking, what did you do to warrant a curse?" Lady Locksley asked, willing to at least give the man the benefit of a doubt.
If Mr. Bear had been anyone else, he might have flushed. As things were, he kept his eyes to the table and tightened his fists painfully. "I'd really rather not talk about it, if it's all the same to you."
"Darling, leave the man alone," her husband implored worriedly. "He has already assured us that no mischief will come over his curse."
So why didn't she feel reassured? If it wasn't over safety, why was she so worried?
For days, she studied Mr. Bear from afar, watching from a window as both her husband and son began passing on their knowledge of archery to the cursed man, even if he had a strange knack for accidentally breaking bowstring after bowstring. But after a few days, Mr. Bear was able to draw a bow without breaking it, and could shoot it fairly well in a few more. Nothing like her son, of course, but well enough to take down a deer if she needed to.
Lady Locksley started at the thought. She? Mr. Bear was a man; why did she think that? Sure, he had good table manners for a peasant, and looked a bit like a girl, but that didn't make him a girl!
… Did it?
ooOoo
"Are you certain that I can't convince you to stay?" Lord Locksley asked sadly, two weeks after the arrival of the Fitzwalter family.
Mr. Bear was clearly fighting back his emotions, but was remaining firm. "If I weren't cursed, I'd be more than happy to work for you or Lord Fitzwalter. But I don't want to turn into a bear after I die, and there's a cure out there somewhere."
"Well, I wish you all the luck in the world, and don't forget to leave your gloves on," he whispered while shaking hands one last time.
"Right," Mr. Bear whispered back, looking a little nervous as he shouldered back the bow Robin had given him for rescuing Marian twice and the modest bag of supplies the lord had given him. "Take care of the children; they're magnets for trouble."
"I am well aware of that," Lord Locksley laughed, slapping the cursed trapper on the shoulder. "Make good use of what I've given you, and good luck."
A small smile managed to escape his mouth. "Good luck to you too, sir." With that, Mr. Bear gave one of his strange bows, and took off running into the woods.
"The road is the other way, Mr. Bear!" Lady Locksley called out, but her husband put a hand on her arm.
"Let him be, love. With his curse, he'd be better off sticking to less traveled areas."
"… Well, I suppose he would attract a little too much attention on the roads," she conceded. "But why on earth does he need to keep his gloves on?"
"The cuts Robin gave him are still healing and…" he trailed off with a strange smile. "His skin is surprisingly delicate."
'Like a girl's? No, don't think that, perhaps it's part of his curse.' "I wonder what he'll look like, if he finds a cure-"
"When he finds the cure," her husband was quick to correct her, looking strangely defensive. "He'll find it. Anyone that rescues innocent lives without wanting a reward can reverse a fairy's curse."
"It was a fairy that cursed him?" Lady Locksley asked in horror. "What did he do?"
"I don't know. I couldn't make him tell me." He looked into the direction that Mr. Bear disappeared into and smiled sadly.
"All he said was that it was unavoidable and he'd do it again in a heartbeat."
ooOoo
After she ran long enough, the cursed woman slowed down in order to lean against a tree. She panted heavily, still unable to believe it. "How could that have given me away?" she whispered, taking off her right glove.
The trapper studied her slim callused hand while shaking her head. "… Would Machida have known if I ever touched him with a bare hand?"
Thank heaven Lord Locksley was the only man that had touched her skin since leaving her homeland. He understood how to keep a secret.