Previously in Silk Road
Quatre, a former student of medicine, who had taken an oath to do no harm, was about to offer to sell a woman to a prestigious scholar, philosopher, surgeon, alchemist- the man who essentially raised him. Before Quatre ran away to sow his oats.
"The barbers have arrived," he said.
Ch. 9
Quatre rose from the table without another word, and made his way over to the other side of the sprawling tavern.
The barbers he spoke of were hard to miss, even from so far away. A small group of them sat themselves at a long table, their obvious leader a well-built man stood over six feet tall, skin weathered from a life in the desert. He wore a long coat over his kaftan, but didn't cover his head like many others did in the tavern. His beard flared from both sides of his chiseled face like spikes, and his coarse hair was styled as if he had horns growing from his head. The mark of a brilliant mind that dances with devils in the name of science.
Heero started to feel himself panic, his instincts to protect Relena on full alarm.
The Maganac were a prestigious and honorable group, but they were feared, and had been known to dabble in international politics for the sake of advancing their studies and elevating their status. What use would they have for a young girl? Perhaps as a political bargaining chip? How much were they willing to pay for her?
All at once, Heero began regretting the role he was playing, the danger he was exposing Relena to.
His heart felt too big for his chest, and soon every inhale he took felt like a cut to his lungs. He wanted out.
His blood thundered in his ears.
Relena felt the atmosphere shift as she watched Heero seemingly retreat inward. She battled against the want to hold him close to her chest and sooth the lightning that she could almost see crawling up his neck.
What would his skin feel like beneath her fingertips? Could she soothe him?
She inched closer to him, bringing her hand up to his face. Immediately, he stiffened. Stone still Heero, cold beneath her touch.
"Are you alright Heero?" She asked, whichever language she really wasn't sure, her only priority was his well being. She had a feeling he had found her out ages ago.
He let her hand cradle his face, indulging in its coolness. The urge to be selfish hammered against his heart. Take her in your arms, Heero, go ahead. You're the only one who should.
He had to get them out of there.
In a flurry, Heero stood up from their table, pulling Relena with him. Barbers be damned, he would let Quatre deal with the fallout.
He rushed her out the back door of the tavern, his hand circling her wrist. At some point, his palm moved flat against hers, and their fingers interlaced.
He lead her across a patchy yard towards a wooden barn. A place he had known well, where he'd had plenty of secret meetings with maidens he'd met at the tavern in the past. Immediately, Heero felt flush with guilt.
Relena dared not ask him where they were off to, but she was angry at herself for trusting him so implicitly when she knew it had not been earned.
When he laced his hand with hers, she melted, completely spell bound by him. She would follow him anywhere, that she was sure. This surreal pull she felt towards him, it was as if he had been haunting Relena her entire life. She wanted to know everything about him. He knew something about her, and perhaps it was time to compare notes.
The wooden barn door was creaky on its hinges, but they slipped inside undetected. On one end of the unlit building, a dozen or so chickens slept in a coop. The rest of the barn was filled with tools, wagons, and sacks of supplies. It was quiet and private.
Heero's anxiety was getting the best of him, as was his selfishness. He led Relena to a ladder leaning against a loft on the far end of the barn.
He pulled her close to him at the foot of the ladder, voice low and fried, barely above a whisper.
"I am not going to hurt you, we just need to talk."
Relena nodded, and he hated how much she trusted him.
He jerked his head up the ladder, and she complied, carefully stepping up each rung until she made her way to the loft. She remained seated, there wasn't enough headroom for her to stand.
Heero climbed the ladder in half the time, joining her on the wooden platform. Around them, crates of hay provided a bit of privacy.
Relena removed his scarf from her head, freeing her hair. As she adjusted herself, the neckline of her kosode gaped slightly, allowing Heero view of the pale olive skin at the base of her neck.
She shuffled herself closer to her captor, leaning forward, not caring what he could see of her chest.
Relena brought her face as close as possible to his, eyes searching every angle of his face. Heero noticed her eyes lingered on his mouth.
"Who are you, really?" Relena whispered. "And who am I?"
a/n: A short chapter today, thanks the readers that have stuck with this story! Like I said, this one is a labor of love. Happy Super Bowl Sunday to those who celebrate (I only observe half time).