You are the night time fear
You are the morning when it's clear
When it's over you're the start
You're my head, you're my heart
-Florence and the Machine, "No Light, No Light"
With not being quite so sure how to process that remark, she merely shrugged it off. The blonde couldn't have meant anything by it. That was safer to believe in, a lie some voice in her head told her only to be drowned out by one that resounded it was the truth. Safer to believe that the blonde meant nothing by it than believe even for a moment that she meant something more by it. It was easier to believe that, especially with the rest that followed in the wake of the words.
Her eyes passed to the belt wrapped sword, frowning a bit at it before her gaze rose back to the blonde. Despite her hood covering her head and thus shadowing her features, she was too bright. Too shining. She felt odd, yet correct, about attributing such notions and descriptions to her. Her gaze was too clear, too piercing in its search without being uncomfortable. At least at first. It was overbearing at times the longer she looked, finally casting her gaze away to rest on something else within the inn.
It didn't matter what it was, just as long as it was away from the blonde's too deep gaze. It was like she was reading her soul like a book, however it wasn't as intrusive as she felt from others. Those who had tried to force their way into her life both while her grandfather still lived and after he had passed on. It was one of those reasons why she closed herself off from people, feeling better about not being so self reliant on others. That others relied on her she could handle and escape.
But this felt different. Her gaze couldn't stay away for long, returning back to the blonde who by that point had propped her head in her gloved hand, watching her in turn. Feeling her breath catch she called upon every ounce of willpower she could muster at her beck and call, promising the world thrice over if it just meant she could keep her wits about her at the moment. She was looking at her, her gaze like a lodestone and she the piece of metal that could not escape such a pull.
Her mouth felt dry despite her swallows to prevent it. Absently her hand almost reached for the tea cup before her mind processed it was empty; she had drank that last bit when the blonde had arrived. Direly she wished for something to break the moment, the contact that existed. She didn't care what it was, even if it was a fight breaking out or the building catching fire or the ground swallowing her whole. Something. Just as long as it was something. Gods please anything.
Anything.
"The more you stare the more I'm inclined to believe you like what you see." It was a sultry whisper that provided what she plead for.
Oh fuck anything but that.
"I. I'm not staring at you!" She retorted hotly, thankful that the moment was broken even if all it was doing was transitioning on to another scenario that was likely even worse than the originating one.
"Mmm Priestess, it's not very nice to lie." The blonde spoke easily, her voice laced with something that made her skin crawl and tingle in places she did not really need it to be doing so at.
Her mouth opened but nothing seemed to be forthcoming. Hurriedly she snapped it shut, glowering at the blonde as she irritably pulled her own cloak around her. The day was warm, the cloak material was almost too much to be wearing, but right now it was akin to a suit of plate armor. It was her protection, her defense against the blonde that was disarming her with such skill and ease she immediately scowled. If she thought that she was going to be another notch to her conquests, she'd have another thing coming.
"You're far too high strung." And just like that the blonde took her bow out of the mood, eyes closing for a moment before she tugged off her gloves. Laying them on the table top before her, her fingers went back to her face, rubbing at it to relieve tension. There was a tiredness to her actions, a reminder that despite her cloak hood being cast over her own features, she had been injured.
The hint of red bound about her forehead peaked with the occasional and errant movements brought on by the blonde's hands. How long had she been walking before she found her the day prior? Plus the concussion. Then the walk here. That she still was functioning without hardly anything in her system drove home the point that she was a crummy host.
She didn't ask for the blonde though her mind fired back, starting a war within herself about how exactly she was supposed to act. What was the etiquette? What was the protocol? Why the fuck did she even care? The last question caught her off guard. The answer knocked down a defense she wasn't prepared to lose. She blinked, refusing to acknowledge it at this point.
A different tactic was tried instead, frowning slightly before she gave a hidden motion to the innkeeper that hadn't been paying attention, but like any that were successful knew how to read gestures and acknowledge them appropriately. In this case, it was a girl; probably ten or so, that brought out a steaming hot tea pot and another glass. She moved with a skill and grace that said that was the life she knew, and smartly said nothing. She had been the one to bring out her own cup of tea as it were, so there wasn't a need for words.
Pouring the other mug full, she moved it in front of the blonde before refilling her own. "You should drink something. Deimos ordered a meal before he left." There. That was going to be how she transitioned away from the blonde's infuriating looks and words. Either the blonde would get it or she would find herself dumped here, regardless of whatever prompted her to take her oath. It wasn't exactly an oath of servitude, but it seemed so very damn close to one.
The words and scents gained her back the attention of the other, hands falling away as her eyes opened anew. A tiredness had seeped into her features, lurking in the back of her gaze like an old friend. One that you could greet but that you prefered to wait before doing so. It echoed in her slight smile, bare hands curling around the mug just for the comfort that it brought of holding something hot despite the temperature. "Thanks," she murmured, rolling her shoulders to slightly pop her back into place and enjoy the relief brought.
The silence that followed moved towards a more comfortable sort, interrupted only by the drinking of the tea once it cooled to a level more acceptable. It perked the blonde back up, fighting off the tiredness at least to the point she wouldn't pitch over on the table and fall asleep. There was some sort of grace to her actions, earning her silent study that she could hide behind her own beverage. If she had to guess, which she felt like doing, the blonde was probably some sort of royalty. It begged the question though, why was she here?
No one on Mars had hair such as hers, much less eyes. For a moment she almost wished she wasn't so prejudiced against other planetary races; she would have been able to peg the blonde for what she was she suspected. It wouldn't do so well to come right out and ask either; regardless of how she acted her grandfather had raised her with manners. Even if she just didn't choose to display them or act on them unless she so wanted to.
Or if she was trying to impress. Was that it? Was she trying to impress the blonde? She scowled at herself but couldn't completely disprove it either. Instead she drank another swallow of tea, posed to ask a question of the blonde; maybe some way of figuring out where she hailed from when the other beat her to it.
"Do you frequent this inn often?"
What kind of question was that? It earned her a questioning look, however she waited for further explanation to follow. She wasn't in the mood to verbally spar again and lose. Not again today at least. Idealy never but part of her would miss it.
"Is this a safe place I mean. Can you speak freely here or do you keep a low profile?" It was midday yes, the inn was beginning to fill with patrons who desired lunch. But that didn't mean that it was safe at all, just that it was a necessity of life.
She grasped immediately what the other was getting at, looking around for a moment with almost wariness. Phobos and Deimos would be returning soon. Not that they were better in a fight than the blonde; she had paid attention. She just knew them better, but still. She wouldn't discount the other. Not like this. "It's safer to keep a low profile than it is to freely announce myself," she replied, watching as the other nodded. "But it's mostly safe. We haven't run into any issues."
It seemed to satisfy her, at least for the moment. Something still lingered, and for once it looked like the blonde was at a loss for words of how to give it life. She toyed with her tea, taking slight glances behind her, then to her falchion hanging off of the back of her chair, then to the two short swords still on the table between them, just in different positions than when they had originally been laid down.
Her mouth opened to say something when the blonde's hand closed over the hilt of the short sword closest to her, drawing it cleaning from the scabbard as she rose fluidly in her chair. Her back presented to the Priestess, but she could easily see all the same. On the other end of the sword's point was a boy, mid teens if she had to guess. Not too dirty but dusty all the same, his clothes looked mostly serviceable with nothing to really stand out about him. Just a belt with what looked to be a hunting knife; not at all uncommon for here.
She was drawn from her ponderings by the blonde's voice, low enough to be heard but commanding all the same. "I wouldn't recommend that." The boy, already turning pale from his upfront and personal introduction by the sword, hastily nodded and quickly scrambled out of the blonde's range, followed by out of the inn entirely. She watched as the other patrons paid close attention before they too returned to their drinks; the meals apparently on the way if the aromas from the cooking area were any indication.
The blonde retook her seat, sliding the sword back to its sheath before setting it aside. She said nothing still, merely taking up the mug of tea to finish off. Unable to take it anymore her voice came out as a harried whisper, expecting if not outright demanding answers. "What was that all about?"
Looking up at her the blonde set the mug aside, empty now. "He's been following us since we arrived." She said softly, glancing up as the same girl with the teapot of before began setting a plate of black bread on the table, followed; one at a time no less, of four bowls of stew. At once the blonde fell silent, waiting for the girl to finish setting everything on the table. Even then she still waited a near minute before she continued on. "It's probably not going to be safe to stay here."
"He's just a boy." She heard herself arguing in his defense.
The blonde merely shook her head, collecting one of the spoons; cast of metal which surprised her honestly, before turning her attention to the stew bowl in front of her. Mechanically but with inherent manners she ate, not even looking up when both Phobos and Deimos arrived and took their seats at the table with them.
It infuriated her. She got defensive about a boy but the two men could merely walk up and sit down, and she didn't even say a word about it? She felt what existed of her appetite vanish, angrily tearing into the loaf of bread instead. Her mood was easy to pick up on by Phobos who looked at her, then to the blonde, and finally to Deimos. "What's going on?"
"She thinks we're being followed." She spat out, not in the mood for their own inquisition on top of it all. Looking up she watched the look pass between them, scowling more so at them. From infuriation to anger, she was making grand strides towards being pissed. "What."
"The townsfolk have reported that one of the warlords is frequenting the town. He's been coming and going every three days or so." She felt her rage slip through her fingers. She didn't even have to ask. The question was out there, the only logical thing that could be asked during such an occasion.
"He's due back today."
A/N: I've found the hardest thing is not so much progressing the story along; it's moving, but in finding what song snippets I'm going to use for any particular chapter. I even wrote ahead for the "important" part to be about 99.9% finished, minus any revisions I feel it needs, so it is just getting to that point (which will happen soon), then the aftermath, then the rest of my curveballs I have to throw at this thing.
Thunderfall - I just wish I could do dialogue better. Its hard being an introvert and you're writing about the extrovert being everything you're not.
Super Secret Guest Reviewer 2 - Thanks! I can see now why people are like "reviews rawr!" all over the place here… it's nice to know that someone out there is reading other than yourself.