"I pretty much try to stay in a constant state of confusion just
because of the expression it leaves on my face."
~Johnny Depp
We hit the bandits a little before dawn.
You might think, that since the knights periodically hunted the Darkwolf bandits like deer, that they would be smarter than deer and actually learn to anticipate the attacks, but then you'd be sadly disappointed.
I can't say that I was, since the fight—or massacre, really—went incredibly successfully for the knights of Oaklore Keep. No serious injuries were obtained, though Sir Prize got knocked upside the head once. The bandits weren't expecting us at all, and when we hit where they had made their temporary camp, we hit fast and we hit hard. We rode through on our horses, swiping back and forth at any dark-clad person on the ground.
Senseless violence? Maybe. But the bandits hadn't stopped assaulting, robbing, and even murdering innocent travelers, so it was up to the knights to prevent them from doing that. Besides, the bandits knew exactly what they had signed up for. They knew that this would be a possibility, and they still continued to mug innocents. But that was their problem. Not ours. We just took care of any travelers, and that included getting rid of some from time to time.
When we got back to the Keep, the stars had just started to wink into existence over the tallest trees in Oaklore Forest, and the moon had already risen, casting everything in a faint, silvery sheen. The dark greens of the woods around us on the track home had been turned to a steel gray, with hints of lighter gray here and there. The browns, blacks, (in my case, gray) and gold of our horses' coats were also transformed into shades of charcoal, steel, and silver. It was mesmerizing.
That didn't mean armor was immune to the moon's rays. In fact, it reflected it more than anything else we had with us, and caused tiny spots of pale light to be cast on the underside of the canopy of leaves. Even through the odd scratch, patch of rust, grease, blood, or dirt, our armor still reflected any light like glass. I soon discovered that pewter-colored armor shone brighter than bronze or the darker gray the rest of the knights had. It seemed fitting, somehow, that the Captain's armor would reflect the greatest amount of moonlight, causing him to be the shining beacon at the head of our group.
It was almost funny, actually, in a suitable sort of way.
And so it was with heavy eyelids and a mind splashed full of monochrome colors that I took care of Tess when we returned, giving her a thorough cleaning, mindless of how tired I was. She seemed to appreciate the effort, though, and that made all of the extra work completely worth it. Before leaving her stall with her bridle hung over my shoulder, I took a moment to run my fingers down her neck and cradle her enormous gray head in my arms as her eyes drifted shut. She was tired too, I could tell, and rested my forehead against hers for a moment more, fighting the urge to just fall asleep upright.
The creak of a stall door pulled me back to attention, and I drowsily lifted my head to see Rolith leaning in the doorway, smiling slightly. I smiled self-consciously, giving Tessa's neck a last pat and slipping out past the Captain, hanging her bridle on the hook outside her door.
"You know," he observed in a quieted tone, "I don't think I've ever seen a closer bond between a horse and rider."
I ducked my head slightly, the edges of my lips quirking up despite my exhaustion as I started slowly walking in the direction of the main door. "I have. Back home, there was a man, a friend of my parents', who could do things with a horse I'd never seen before. And the horses listened to him, because… well, he had an odd way of speaking to them," I rambled a bit, ending with a half-hearted shrug.
Rolith raised an eyebrow. "He literally spoke to them?"
"Well, sometimes. Not all the time. But he didn't tell them to do things, like take that small jump, or back up a few steps. He asked. And most animals will listen to you, if you take a second to put things in order for them. Thanks," I added as Rolith tugged the wooden door open so I didn't have to. The other knights had already retired, so we kept our voices low as we walked down the stone block hall. Absently, I wondered where Rolith slept, because it sure wasn't near my room. So why's he heading this way…? And if I didn't know better, I'd say he was just a bit preoccupied with something.
"You're welcome. I've been wondering," Rolith began, "Every now and then, you'll drop some comment about 'back home'… Where exactly is home for you, Calliope?"
"Here," I replied instantly, getting a resulting rough poke in my upper arm. The armor that covered his hands made a slight chink as it met mine, and the high-pitched sound echoed faintly down the hallway.
"I mean before," my friend clarified with a slight twist of his lips. I blinked once or twice, my already befuddled mind made even more fuzzy by paying attention to his expressions.
"Uhm… Pretty far East, about two days' journey North of Swordhaven," I mumbled distractedly. "We had a little village, wasn't quite a town, but pretty secluded. We're a few miles off the beaten track," I remembered, my tongue inadvertently returning to the dialect it had grown up with as I took a short stroll down memory lane. "The traders used t'come every spring, and there was this bard who always had new stories to tell," I recalled fondly, my lips quirking up.
"You sound a little homesick."
"Not really. I mean, yeah, I miss everyone, but it's more fun to see new places, yanno?" I asked rhetorically, grinning up at him. Why the devil did he have to be so tall? I mean, I was tall, and I barely hit his chin! Rolith's lips twitched in that trademark crooked smirk.
"We're here."
I spun around, realizing that at some point we had in fact stopped walking and I had failed to notice. Then I whirled back around to stare at him suspiciously. "How long have we been here?"
"Probably about a minute."
"… Wow. Really?"
Rolith chuckled, and I almost swear I felt the reverberations through parts of my armor. Laughs that deep just weren't heard, they were felt. Still, it was contagious, and I wound up smothering a few giggles of my own, eventually glancing back up at the Captain to see if he had regathered his typical stoic expression as I leaned back against my door to support myself. Instead, what I saw nearly made my heart skip, then pick up in double time.
You wouldn't think that normal, hazel eyes could stop a person in their tracks, mid-step or mid-sentence, but there you would be wrong. Not just incorrect, but completely, entirely wrong. After all, I had proof right in front of me.
The sheer intensity of Rolith's gaze rendered me speechless. For all that sucky romance novels waxed cliché about feeling like your heart was being squeezed by phantom fingers, I actually had no other way to describe what it felt like right then. He wasn't even moving a muscle, save to breathe, and frankly, I couldn't. The part of my brain that handled conversation and general functions was out to lunch, apparently. Or dinner. Or breakfast. Or whatever time it was by this point.
I nearly jumped when I felt the faintest brushing sensations around the very edges of my cheeks and forehead, and realized with an internal jolt that I hadn't realized how close we'd gotten, and that it was in fact his overlong, brass-colored hair causing the tickling feeling. Our breath was mingling, and though I wanted so badly to move, I couldn't bring myself to. And all this while, I couldn't break his gaze.
My brain was whirling through the memories of the day by the stable, his consideration on the boat, his finding the portrait I had done of him, the way he was closer than he really needed to be the previous evening in attempting to start the campfire…
And also the way he was really, really close right now, which was seriously impeding my brain functions…
What if you didn't move this time? whispered my subconscious. You ran the last few times… what if, just this once, you didn't..?
The tips of our noses brushed.
Like an electric shock, both of us jumped back—me less so, seeing as my back was against my door—and Rolith was gone with a curt 'good night' and hurried steps. The set of his shoulders was a bit stiff, and I was left to wonder if I was genuinely that bad at understanding relationships or if Rolith was just weird. Both were known to happen from time to time.
But still, I couldn't help feeling like I was missing something big… and so, with a quietly murmured 'good night' to an empty hallway, I slipped into my room and closed the door behind me, sliding to the floor to begin removing my armor. It was only after I had tried to take several pieces off in the wrong order that I realized how close we had come to doing something both of us would probably genuinely regret.
But… would I regret it, though? I wondered tiredly, lifting the part that covered my neck and shoulders over my head. I mean… he might. It could do irreparable damage to his image and his station. He could be let go, demoted, or something. So he might regret it, I concluded as I blew out the one candle in the room and rolled into bed. He probably would, knowing him.
But I probably wouldn't.
And that was when I realized I was most likely very, very screwed.
Hello, my lovelies! Hope everybody had a good two weeks. I would've updated a bit sooner, but this ten-page English paper just whooped my butt. Seriously. I did most of it in one night because I was procrastinating.
But anyway, a bit of harmless fluff last chapter set up nicely for this chapter, don't you think? :) And I promise that things are gonna get... well, a little hairy near the end of the next chapter. :)
As always, hope you enjoyed. ^^ Leave a review if you liked! Reviews are love, people! :D Tune in in two weeks for Chapter 18!
Juliet, Over and Out!