Scene 9

D was quite the handy-man.

As they sailed towards Azarvin the vampire hunter didn't stay idle, rather he was out and about among the sailors, helping repair the deck, pulling in the lines and generally making himself useful. Doris gaped at him as she had when he was fixing her fence and milking her cows. The dhampire appeared the most ill-equipped for such menial tasks, yet took to them with, while not a relish, certainly a subdued satisfaction.

Not for the first, and not for the last, Doris wondered what his family was like.

D didn't talk about himself on that trip. He barely talked at all. While his gaze upon the huntress wasn't cold, it wasn't warm either, which she took as a good thing. After their heated discussion in his cabin a few days back she'd feared the dhampire would shut down completely, but instead he remained more aloof than angry, more distant than disdainful.

He had much to be distracted about. So had she.

Doris did everything she could to help him, holding and carrying items, running errands and messages. How she longed to just lift her hand up to touch his hair, his cheek, his shoulder...just to feel further connected to him. But she knew he was not the sort to give way easily, if at all. She would have to bide her time or just acknowledge the futility of it all.

It was a bleak thought. Just as bleak as her fear of never seeing Dan again.

"Land!" came from the crow's nest.

Doris rushed to the railing, completely abandoning the rope she'd been knotting. Her large eyes took in the port-city of Azarvin, estactic to find themselves within civilization again. As much the huntress enjoyed seafaring, her heart really was with the land. And with finding her brother and the other children.

D was suddenly by her side. He didn't touch her, didn't look at her, but seemed to address her as he said, "We stay overnight in the city to learn what we can then head straight to the Capitol." Then he was gone again as if he were never there.

The young woman didn't move from her stance until the Captain called all hands to bring the ship to port.

She longed for nothing so much as a bath. You couldn't get a decent one on the ship, especially not with all those sailors sneaking lusty glances. It was like they hadn't seen a woman before! Truth was they hadn't seen a woman in a while and Doris knew that men were pleased by her appearance. Of course they didn't garner so much as a smile from her. Her smiles were for one person, and one person only...

And that one person was sitting on the bed in the hotel room they'd rented, legs crossed at the ankles, head braced back against the headboard, eyes shut. She thought briefly she should let him know her intentions in case he wanted to use the bathroom first, but the huntress laughed at her silliness. D would have little use for a big bowl of water.

How did vampires stay clean? D certainly didn't smell unpleasant except for the small scent of blood that clung to him no matter how long it had been since he'd last tasted it. That with the steel, and the leather and the road. If anything it was enticing, masculine enough to set a heart to stirring, while maintaining just a dash of softness to intrigue.

She couldn't say the same. She reeked.

Slipping into the bathroom like she slipped out of her clothes, Doris took in a deep breath as she turned the facet and water poured out. It was a glorious, comforting sound and once the tub was filled the huntress gleefully lowered herself within.

Every cell in her soul seemed to sing at the wonderful feeling of being immersed in the water. Happily she scrubbed the dirt and grme away with a washcloth. She was hardly a girly-girl, but there were some pleasures that no woman could resist, and this was one of hers. She dunked her head to clean her hair, water closing in over her.

The image of D dragged under flashed through her mind.

With a gasp Doris sprang up. The thought of the dhampire perishing was too great a torment to bear. Even with how much the hunter treasured that cold demeanor the idea of him being taken from this world, from her, stuck a lump in her throat. For a horrifying moment there the huntress had feared him dead.

It didn't matter in what capacity she would have him in her life. She didn't want D away ever again. If he coudln't return her affection, she would accept it. She would love him, support him, stay by his side. She would stop playing her silly childish games with him, and give him the kind of respecful, tranquil companionship the dhampire appeared to desire.

Quietly rising from her bath, the young woman dried herself with a towel then dressed in a nightgown. She tip-toed out to the main room and peered at D. And seeing what he was doing drew a little gasp out of her.

In the dhampire's right hand was his sapphire pendant, which, upon closer examination, Doris realized was a locket. Inside was a picture of a beautiful dark-haired woman. He stared at it, a churning of stormy emotions upon his face so plain to see and so surprising for him as to make her gasp again, louder this time.

D finally noted her presence, quickly snapping it shut and stuffing it down his shirt.

Doris climbed onto the bed and said, "Who is she?"

D's eyes slid over to her, something unreadable in them. "No one."

"D..." Her hand lightly graced his shoulder. "Is she someone dear to you?" A small tinge of jealously sparked in her blood but the huntress contained it. Whoever the woman was, she quite clearly significant to him, and letting even a hint of her discontent show would only make him clam up.

"My mother."

Though the dhampire spoke deadpanned, Doris seemed something dark swirl inside of him. Anger. Sorrow. Desperate love and desperate pain. Like a man scorned, but not quite, she knew. It was something deeper, something so agonizing that even acknowleding its truth was obviously something D was not prepared to do.

D swept his legs off the bed. Before he could stand Doris rushed over to wrap her arms around waist. He tensed, but didn't push her away. She could faintly hear chuckling but it seemed to come from around his hip, which made no sense. Certainly the dhampire didn't appear amused, as he was still as a board in her grasp, fighting something she could not see.

His left fist clenched, but everywhere else relaxed. Doris pressed her advantage to press her cheek against his back. There wasn't a hint of sexuality to it; the young woman only wanted to offer comfort for what appeared to be a deep wound. Maybe D realized that, for he seemed to take the tender moment for what it was.

Shocking Doris even more, the dhampire brought his legs back to the bed and slid down on the sheets, taking her with him. Not once did the hunter turn around but remained on his side and in her embrace. Doris again took this as a good sign and resisted the urge to pull him over to face her. She longed nothing so much at that moment than to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek and tell him everything would be alright.

Somehow she knew it was the quiet companionship, silent support he needed right now.

Doris had thought she would wait until he slept before taking rest herself but soon she was slumbering, her arms around D still.