Unruly
Paths
*Disclaimer: I do not own Claymore.
I
apologize for the wait! Thanks for reading so far. There has
been a month's time skip between chapters two and three, in which
Nicholas and Flora have met twice... Please read and enjoy... or
don't enjoy, whichever tickles your fancy. This is the last
instalment.
-DCP
*********************************************
I had finally remembered what it was like to have a human heart, but now I wish more than anything I had never discovered it. I would bury the bothersome thing back under mounds of bone and flesh and hide it under regret, like a dangerous secret. The mere thought of Nicholas' soft pathetic gaze makes my stomach turn over! I thoroughly despise feeling this way, as if I am torn in two over a man whom I could care less about and an obligation I have to kill Yoma. Gritting my teeth, I remember the last words we exchanged.
"I don't care if I'm your plaything. Go ahead, use me all you like but I won't ever stop wanting to be with you." He said, almost as if he actually meant it. If there is one thing I know about men, it is that the one thing they cannot have is the most attractive, though even in the abstract the word 'attractive' does not suit me.
"I suppose there isn't much point in hiding my intentions from you now, is there?" I had been cold, I had been unsympathetic but I had to wake up from that dream sooner or later. "I suggest you stop following me now if you value your pride."
"I don't place much value on those kinds of sentiments." His voice had become low and almost hollow at that point. He knew he was fighting a losing battle.
"Then go back to Rihen Town. I won't as much as look at you if I see you again."
"Flora, you're acting like a spoiled child." Nicholas had said "Even if I am just a toy to you."
"Toys can be replaced." And with that, I had walked away. Warriors are not meant to be happy or to even live a life with a shred of normalcy. We are the dark alternative to mankind – the violent rogue that lives only to fight, kill and complete the mission. It's true; Nicholas had made me happy and for a short time I felt content with knowing he would be in Rihen town waiting for the day I returned like some obedient manservant. I could find men in most any town who would be mad enough to have relations with a warrior of the Organization; surely there were others who could satisfy me who would not attempt to convince me to stay with them.
The bridge I stand on overlooks a pristine creek, the still murky water completely untouched by the townspeople who walk by me. I can sense their steps on the wooden bridge's walkway. Annoying, frustrating and outright loud! I cannot even find a place to think without being distracted by the ones who spurn my kind – the ones we are indirectly protecting in our never ending quest to slay Yoma.
I glance at the reflection of myself in the water and strongly resist the urge to cleave it in two.
I remember the last time I was paired with several warriors to take down a voracious eater I could hardly stop thinking about Nicholas. The monster almost took my life and instead of thinking of how pathetic the end of my life was becoming I could only think of how much I wanted to be in his arms. His strong, caring and sympathetic-
NO! He's a sticky adhesive that never completely washes off, no matter how many times I bathe! His selfish pleas that I stay with him are unrealistic and too ideal for even my tastes. How could he cling to something so desperately when it shuns him so sourly? Why would he not listen to me when I told him not to talk to me, not to look at me and not to follow me?
I try to put the man out of my mind with the closing thought of how much I don't need him in my sad excuse for a life. There is no place for someone like him in my world, a man who fears for my safety with every passing moment, who refuses to let me walk alone as I always have. There... that wasn't so hard.
As I make my way to the inn, I can see a tavern with several men completely drunk beyond their senses guffawing insipidly and gesturing to every being lacking a Y chromosome that strode past them. I feel safe, being half Yoma I am confident they will spare me from becoming another victim of their helpless stupidity.
I was wrong.
"Hey, Silver nosed-whatever!" One of the men practically burps in my direction,
"Be careful, Guy, don't mess with her kind!"
"Ay! Shaddap!" The one I assume to be Guy retorts pithily, "Y'know, if you close your eyes I bet you'd be pretty cute." Some of the men immediately retreat indoors while one (conveniently for him) leans over to vomit into an empty barrel. "Come 'ere and lemme have a lookit you!"
Sometimes I wish to renounce my vow to never harm a human, though being cleaved in twain by my fellow warriors as a result of that choice does not seem like an attractive bargain. I continue to walk down the street that grows emptier with every passing second and as all the townspeople go inside I can sense the other warrior nearby. A voracious eater has been spotted nearby and two of the organization's warriors including myself have been summoned to this ugly town to purge it of the Yoma's stench and ravenous hunger, so I focus (or try to) and continue to our meeting place.
Turning the corner into yet another cobblestoned alleyway, I see her standing amongst some crates behind what smells like a tavern or eatery of some kind. A frontal strand of platinum hair tucked casually behind her ear and her arms folded impatiently across her chest tells me she'll react informally to my lack of punctuality.
"Well, you took your time," the woman says irritably, "Y'know, I almost went inside to eat something – the only thing that stopped me was the fact that I've got no money."
"That's unfortunate" I reply, trying as best I can to let her know I couldn't care less.
"You're cold," she says back with a disturbing grin, "I like your style. I'm Helen, number twenty two." Twenty two? What's her purpose in being assigned to this job with me? As she continues to brag about her victories and God knows what else I try to figure out what the hell the organization is up to. "So who the hell are you?"
"Flora, number eight." That shut her up. With introductions out of the way, I figure we're ready to move along with our plan.
"So why'd they pair me up with you?" Helen asks, for probably the fifth time as we continue through town. "Like, I'm good, but I'll admit a mission you're supposed to do might be a bit too much for me."
"Then stay alert."
"They probably just realized my embryonic potential for a single digit ranking. Yeah, that's what this is – it's a test!" Helen prattles boorishly, "Why didn't I figure that one out sooner?"
"Because you're an intellectual pigmy" I say to myself, content with my ability to hold in my frustration. Thankfully, as if to distract me from my partner, a heavy yoki aura permeates our senses. I've never been so thankful to find a Yoma. Yeah, I felt it a while ago but I didn't want to make Helen feel too bad about not sensing it then.
"You know, it's almost as if the people know it's here right now" Helen says, as the townspeople retreat indoors. "Or maybe they're just that scared of us."
"It's coming closer." I whisper, and as if on cue, a large Yoma lumbers out of a nearby house, drenched in blood I know is not its own.
"Whoa, that is one ugly-" Helen is interrupted by one of the men I had passed earlier near the tavern as he wanders out into the street, still completely drunk. "What's this moron doing?"
"That idiot!" Within seconds the Yoma is upon him, tearing at him, opening him up and gorging on his insides. Helen and I break, with her to one side of the street and I to the other, and we run at the beast in an attempt to confuse it. It seems reluctant to back away from its steaming meal but yields to the immediate danger, leaping in reverse several feet back.
"Come on, you witches!" It shouts rowdily, licking his sopping jaws of the drunk and now equally dead man's blood. "I'm still hungry!"
"Then come get it, ugly!" Helen roars, diving at the Yoma, nearly taking its arm. The monster swipes at her, throwing her aside like a broken doll as I descend from above. He miraculously dodges my strike as well, returning to apparently finish off Helen. She guards against its powerfully clumsy swipes and succeeds in severing some of its fingers.
Whoohoo, go Helen.
"That's all you've got?" Helen shouts as she brings her sword up again, but her bravado is wasted. The monster is at her throat, holding her high above the ground. "Shit – Flora! What the hell are you waiting for!?"
"Claymore meat doesn't taste so good, but I'm too hungry to be picky..." As the monster readies its clawed hand for a pass at Helen's head, it notices me standing close with my hand firmly gripping the handle of my great sword. "I wouldn't do that – if you move your friend's gonna be my last meal..."
"Fine by me" I say to Helen's obvious horror. I don't know which part of the windcutter technique is more satisfying, the act itself or the look on my prey's face when I sever the top half of their body from the lower half. The monster's form sloughs to the ground and Helen is released, landing brusquely on her behind. "Are you alright?"
"You bitch!" She huffs, "What were you saying about it being totally fine if that beast took my head off?" We continue walking with the occasional small conversational tidbit, but discuss nothing of any grave importance, or for that matter, interesting.
"Do you know where to find the mayor?"
"What? Probably at the tavern, that's where they all go after something like this." We nearly turn around when an unwelcome and invasive voice announces its presence.
"Flora – are you alright?" I turn to see Nicholas, who I am not at all surprised to see in the first place, standing in the empty street looking worried. Helen practically licks her lips and indiscreetly eyes him up and down before hooting crudely.
"Whoa, who's this fella?!"
"Nicholas," I sigh regretfully, "I recall telling you to specifically leave me alone."
"Why would you want that?" the other warrior blurts behind me.
"I will, if that's what you want, but there's something I have to say first..." He stalls,
"It's all been said, I'm sure. I don't have any use for you anymore, so please." I turn my back to him and walk the other way, but I can still hear Helen...
"Hell, I can find some use for him!" By now, Helen's colourless commentary is becoming excessive. I wish for her to be silent for only a few moments, just enough time for me to remember what exactly peace and quiet feels like. I also hope Nicholas finally understands I want nothing to do with him, though that information making its way through his thick over-affectionate head may be asking too much. "What's your name?"
"Uh, it's Nicholas" Dear God, is she actually trying to get to know him? I know exactly what's on her mind, she's derogative, provocative, and confrontational and hasn't had a man's attention in years – or so she tells me. He wouldn't sleep with her... would he? Even if she did get affectionate with him, she wouldn't know how to satisfy him. That thing I would do with his earlobe, how I would bite his neck and his chest; how he would wrap his arms around me and – wait! Why do I care! Helen can do what she likes with him! I head back to the inn with a damaged expression, though I would not have known unless some men from the bar had not been hooting and waving me over. Nicholas would suspect my return to the inn, and being the persistent locust of a man I know he is he would be there.
I pause. Was Helen trying to help me by distracting Nicholas? I doubt it, she knows nothing about him. He would be less than reluctant to share the details of our stomach-turning terrible excuse for a love affair but knowing the other warrior she would probably not be listening, anyways.
Moving back to the topic of Nicholas' obnoxious determination, I decide to mislead him and do something very un-Flora like. Hang it all, I'll go to the tavern – how hard can it be to drink like those men do? The warriors of the organization are hardly affected by alcohol unless we wish to lose control, but I do not. Approaching the men, I see Guy looking dishevelled and sodden with negativity. Firstly, I am amazed I still remember him, and second, I am amazed I begin talking to him.
"Was that your friend who got in the way earlier?"
"Shut up!" He retorts, standing up and pointing his finger at me accusingly. "You two witches didn't do anything to save him, that's why he'd dead!" What does he mean? If he hadn't been completely drunk in the first place he would have been wiser than to literally walk in front of a hungry Yoma whose appetite had not yet been sated. Another man tries to calm him, and he looks away sheepishly. "Look, I'm sorry, I guess."
"I understand,"
"Well at least let me... get you something to drink." To be honest with myself, I don't want to talk to this man. I don't want to be near him or be shown courtesy by him, all I want is for something to distract me long enough for Nicholas to leave me alone. I can't imagine him remaining here too much longer. Despite my obvious contempt for this man's type I sit at the bar with him and pretend to listen to him babble like a buffoon about some other man I don't want to know about. Soon, after he has presumably (or so he is inclined to believe) gotten me drunk, his true colors come out.
"Hey, witch-lady, since you're kind of responsible for my pal's death, how's about you make up for it? I have a room here upstairs." Anyways, that's what I gather he means, as he is stupidly drunk to the point where most of his sentences are filled with grunts and sexual suggestions. Like I had said to myself, before, hang it all – the thoughts of Nicholas are driving me insane; going up to Guy's room may not be such a bad idea after all. I've had my experience, I know how to please a man... how hard can it be?
I know something is wrong after I kiss him and he says and appears to feel nothing. This worked with Nicholas, why won't this man look at me the same way he did? He gives me a rotten glance as if to ask 'what the hell was that for?' and immediately begins to fumble with my armour, trying to loosen it. I unenthusiastically assist him in his failing drunken efforts and stand confused and offended as he fondles me roughly, his hands grabbing and groping, tearing the remnants of my clothing off and throwing them around the room as if he is entranced by rage. In this moment I look outside the window into the dark street and see Nicholas, and I smile at him. His face contorts into a shape I have never seen and at that moment I know I have broken his heart. I should be proud, I finally did it, but... something... is wrong.
"What the..." His eyes only meet the scars and bruised skin with revulsion when Nicholas' eyes had overlooked them, if not smiled at them. I was a fool to believe I knew what to do, this is scaring me!
I don't like this feeling, this beast of a man harassing me; he is not gentle, like Nicholas was. He stares at my body in disgust, trying to cover the scars up with his hands and whatever lies near. He turns me forcibly around to face the window, he cannot even look at me. I've been so naive, what did I think this man would treat me like? I am this man's whore, when not long ago I was Nicholas' queen. Why do I not run and leave this place? Because I deserve it, for hurting the man I used to care for. I can feel tears of alien sorrow sliding down my cheeks as the man tries to dress portions of me. I am disgusting; a monster that no one should love, this man is only doing his part. I am soon crying like a helpless little girl, but the man who was behind me is gone. I feel as if I have been asleep, dreaming a terrible dream as I sit cold and naked on the wooden floor crying into my knees.
Soon, something warm envelops me and without turning to make sure they are the arms of the man I long for I curl into them and sob. A side of me I never wanted Nicholas to see, the helpless side, the side that begs me to give into him every moment of my day. Now he can see the real me, the little girl I tried to leave behind dying in that alleyway all those years ago.
"I'm here, Flora." Nicholas says as I tremble, nude against his warm body. With the door locked and the curtains drawn back over the window I finally feel safe in his arms. The fireplace casts our huddled shadows on the wall, painting a pathetic picture of me in his arms.
"I'm sorry" I wheeze,
"It's fine."
"I'm so sorry..."
"I am too, I didn't understand. I just ran away."
"It was me who failed to understand, it was me who was running away." I cast him a quicksilver glance, ensuring he is really there and I am not dreaming. "You followed me all the way here, through the entire wilderness... why would you ever do something so stupid?"
"I tried to tell you," He says quietly, "I tried to tell you that day you left, I tried to tell you when we were in the wild, and I tried to tell you not two hours ago. You're the strangest woman I've ever met, it's like I can't get through to you no matter what I try and do." He's right; I don't know what to say. "And you've always been a terrible liar. When you told me I was just a toy, I saw right through it."
"I don't know what you're talking-"
"Just listen, Flora! Please, I..." He once again renders me speechless, softly holding my shoulders keeping me close to him, his tender lips just out of reach. "It's a lot easier to say to you in my head." I can feel an alien smile forming on my face, not the self-righteous smirk I know I've been casting everyone, but a true smile. The one Nicholas' words make. "I'm in love with you."
"But"
"Here we go again," He sighs, letting his lips touch mine just long enough for me to forget what I was going to say. Sensing myself starting to stutter, I opt for letting him kiss me instead of talking. This is what a kiss is supposed to feel like, warmth inside, growing as if it's ready to burst. After we're finished, it makes you want to smile and laugh. It makes the whole world seem like a bad dream, and for a brief moment I can escape from its forlorn clutches and enjoy something truly happy.
"Flora, do you love me?" His musical voice asks as if it were serenading me.
Do I love him...?
"You idiot..." I say, glancing off at the reflection in my sword, staring back at me like it's never seen something so perfect. I blush and shyly meet his gaze. "Of course I do."
THE END
