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peopleofthedas2010-11-24 07:03 pm
valiasedai) wrote in peopleofthedas2010-11-24 07:03 pm
Where We Stand - Chapter 5
Chapter: 5 - Sudden Heat
Characters: Erise Caron, Varel
Words: 1,022
Summary: Erise's return is met with treachery.
Over at FF.net
"We haven't got enough food!" A clod of dirt sailed through the air and the Commander deflected it with her hand.
"Listen!" The peasants muttered a little longer before settling into silence. "You have asked for protection, and we have given it. Now you demand food. The guards – men and women you know – must eat as well. If you wish for food, then pay or work. The Keep needs hands to strengthen it, and all who help will be taken care of."
Some of the crowd nodded, but one man stepped forward. "We should just take it! We don't need some Orlesian bitch telling us we can't eat!" There were quiet murmurs of agreement and Varel reached for his sword, Captain Garavel mirroring his movement.
The Commander raised her hand in a sharp gesture and they paused, hands hovering over their hilts. "You have a chance to earn your food instead of stealing it. I will not tolerate theft so long as I command Vigil's Keep."
Drawing a belt knife the man who had yelled gestured towards the Commander. "Then we'll see how long you last!" He surged forward, half of the crowd following him as the others fled to a far corner of the grounds. Guards rushed forward, steel scraping on scabbards, the Wardens already moving.
The Commander's blade caught the yelling man's arm, muscle and sinew parting easily, the sound of shattering bone accompanied by a despairing scream. Varel lunged at a peasant charging him down with an old pike, catching the rusted weapon with his own. The commoner lost footing and fell back, his life quickly ended with a vicious downward slice.
The whistle of metal through air caught Varel's ear and as he turned to face it, warm red droplets splattered his chin. The Commander's face was grim as she withdrew her blade from a woman, who stumbled and fell, a heavy mace rolling from her hand
The Wardens and guards made quick work of the few left fighting. Gesturing to a sergeant, the Commander barked an order to see to it the people had ways of earning their food. Her gaze settled on the dwarf mason and nodded once. The short man set off, fingers flashing as he began to count the new workers.
Varel wiped the blood from his face, gaze fixed on the Commander.
********
Bann Esmerelle was clad in armor, but Erise could see how it weighed on her. She seemed a child in its mother's clothes, vainly trying to fill them. The woman was not a warrior. She was soft in body and bitter in heart and only saw Erise as an obstacle to power. She was foolish and thought a single death would open a place for herself, but she was wrong.
A sudden twang caught Erise's ear, and she had barely turned before she heard it hit armor and flesh. Varel let out a low cry and his knees crumpled as the shadows melted and turned into steel and sinew.
The Bann of Amaranthine fell quickly, but the assassins were a challenge. Quick and agile, lightly armored, they moved past her in blurs. Her sword was suddenly cumbersome, and she was pinned in place as she stood guard over Varel's fallen form. Oghren and Sigrun had rushed forward together, making short work of another noble, then a Crow, marked by his tattoos. Nathaniel's bow sung at her side and the heat of Anders' fire warmed her face. They were fighting for their lives and the scent of blood filled her nostrils until they burned, but for the first time it felt like fighting with other Wardens. There was no need for spoken orders, or called out cautions. They fought as one.
************
The Commander's knee was pressing down on his shoulder, one hand gripping his wrist tightly. "I'll count to five." He nodded grimly, taking a deep breath. "Un, deux, trois –" Pain seared in his forearm and he let out a guttural cry. His vision swam red and it was several moments before it cleared.
A bloodied crossbow bolt met his eyes and he shuddered as he could feel the mage's magic work in his arm. "You said you'd count to five." His voice was alien and rough with pain.
"You were going to tense – it would have caused more damage." The Commander's voice held a note of amusement under the concern. The mage voiced his agreement before leaving to tend another.
Experimentally flexing his hand, Varel found the movement stiff and sore. The Commander's hand covered his. "The arm is still weak and needs rest. I will splint it for you."
The walk to the infirmary passed quietly. Varel sat in silence as she plucked clean strips of cloth from the shelf. The Commander turned towards him as she removed her gauntlets. "Give me your arm." He complied, watching her peel the punctured metal and chain and cloth. The skin beneath was bloody and smooth.
She cleaned the arm, eyes set on the task. "Thank you for saving me, Sensechal." She cleared her throat and paused a moment before continuing. "And for your general… kindnesses."
He nodded once, biting back a grunt. "Why do you insist on calling me 'Seneschal'?" The title was growing old.
"Why do you insist on calling me 'Commander'?" She frowned at the wrapping before sighing and starting again.
Varel echoed her soft sigh. "I suppose you want me to call you by name?" She nodded once and bent over his arm as her fingers brushed against his skin. Her scent hit him suddenly and he breathed it in deep, his pulse quickening. "Erise."
She turned to meet his gaze and impulse overtook him. He leaned forward, catching her lips with his own. Her mouth was warm and soft and something inside him went liquid hot when her tongue slid against his.
The kiss broke and he opened his eyes to find her gaze holding him. Erise tugged at the wrapping roughly and he winced, glancing down at his arm. She stood then, leaving the room without a word or backwards glance.
Her taste lingered.
**********
Bonus chapter for the holiday here as it's given me a little extra free time this week. I'll do my regular update Sunday as well. Thanks as always todecantate for being my tolerant beta!
Characters: Erise Caron, Varel
Words: 1,022
Summary: Erise's return is met with treachery.
Over at FF.net
"We haven't got enough food!" A clod of dirt sailed through the air and the Commander deflected it with her hand.
"Listen!" The peasants muttered a little longer before settling into silence. "You have asked for protection, and we have given it. Now you demand food. The guards – men and women you know – must eat as well. If you wish for food, then pay or work. The Keep needs hands to strengthen it, and all who help will be taken care of."
Some of the crowd nodded, but one man stepped forward. "We should just take it! We don't need some Orlesian bitch telling us we can't eat!" There were quiet murmurs of agreement and Varel reached for his sword, Captain Garavel mirroring his movement.
The Commander raised her hand in a sharp gesture and they paused, hands hovering over their hilts. "You have a chance to earn your food instead of stealing it. I will not tolerate theft so long as I command Vigil's Keep."
Drawing a belt knife the man who had yelled gestured towards the Commander. "Then we'll see how long you last!" He surged forward, half of the crowd following him as the others fled to a far corner of the grounds. Guards rushed forward, steel scraping on scabbards, the Wardens already moving.
The Commander's blade caught the yelling man's arm, muscle and sinew parting easily, the sound of shattering bone accompanied by a despairing scream. Varel lunged at a peasant charging him down with an old pike, catching the rusted weapon with his own. The commoner lost footing and fell back, his life quickly ended with a vicious downward slice.
The whistle of metal through air caught Varel's ear and as he turned to face it, warm red droplets splattered his chin. The Commander's face was grim as she withdrew her blade from a woman, who stumbled and fell, a heavy mace rolling from her hand
The Wardens and guards made quick work of the few left fighting. Gesturing to a sergeant, the Commander barked an order to see to it the people had ways of earning their food. Her gaze settled on the dwarf mason and nodded once. The short man set off, fingers flashing as he began to count the new workers.
Varel wiped the blood from his face, gaze fixed on the Commander.
********
Bann Esmerelle was clad in armor, but Erise could see how it weighed on her. She seemed a child in its mother's clothes, vainly trying to fill them. The woman was not a warrior. She was soft in body and bitter in heart and only saw Erise as an obstacle to power. She was foolish and thought a single death would open a place for herself, but she was wrong.
A sudden twang caught Erise's ear, and she had barely turned before she heard it hit armor and flesh. Varel let out a low cry and his knees crumpled as the shadows melted and turned into steel and sinew.
The Bann of Amaranthine fell quickly, but the assassins were a challenge. Quick and agile, lightly armored, they moved past her in blurs. Her sword was suddenly cumbersome, and she was pinned in place as she stood guard over Varel's fallen form. Oghren and Sigrun had rushed forward together, making short work of another noble, then a Crow, marked by his tattoos. Nathaniel's bow sung at her side and the heat of Anders' fire warmed her face. They were fighting for their lives and the scent of blood filled her nostrils until they burned, but for the first time it felt like fighting with other Wardens. There was no need for spoken orders, or called out cautions. They fought as one.
************
The Commander's knee was pressing down on his shoulder, one hand gripping his wrist tightly. "I'll count to five." He nodded grimly, taking a deep breath. "Un, deux, trois –" Pain seared in his forearm and he let out a guttural cry. His vision swam red and it was several moments before it cleared.
A bloodied crossbow bolt met his eyes and he shuddered as he could feel the mage's magic work in his arm. "You said you'd count to five." His voice was alien and rough with pain.
"You were going to tense – it would have caused more damage." The Commander's voice held a note of amusement under the concern. The mage voiced his agreement before leaving to tend another.
Experimentally flexing his hand, Varel found the movement stiff and sore. The Commander's hand covered his. "The arm is still weak and needs rest. I will splint it for you."
The walk to the infirmary passed quietly. Varel sat in silence as she plucked clean strips of cloth from the shelf. The Commander turned towards him as she removed her gauntlets. "Give me your arm." He complied, watching her peel the punctured metal and chain and cloth. The skin beneath was bloody and smooth.
She cleaned the arm, eyes set on the task. "Thank you for saving me, Sensechal." She cleared her throat and paused a moment before continuing. "And for your general… kindnesses."
He nodded once, biting back a grunt. "Why do you insist on calling me 'Seneschal'?" The title was growing old.
"Why do you insist on calling me 'Commander'?" She frowned at the wrapping before sighing and starting again.
Varel echoed her soft sigh. "I suppose you want me to call you by name?" She nodded once and bent over his arm as her fingers brushed against his skin. Her scent hit him suddenly and he breathed it in deep, his pulse quickening. "Erise."
She turned to meet his gaze and impulse overtook him. He leaned forward, catching her lips with his own. Her mouth was warm and soft and something inside him went liquid hot when her tongue slid against his.
The kiss broke and he opened his eyes to find her gaze holding him. Erise tugged at the wrapping roughly and he winced, glancing down at his arm. She stood then, leaving the room without a word or backwards glance.
Her taste lingered.
**********
Bonus chapter for the holiday here as it's given me a little extra free time this week. I'll do my regular update Sunday as well. Thanks as always to
decantate for being my tolerant beta!