Life's Journey (The_Gladiator & darkangel76)

[The_Gladiator]

Taurean was still breathing hard, but it was evident to him that his own breaths were evening out much more rapidly than the priestess’s. This was only to be expected, for he was certain the conditioning he had been through was significantly more rigorous than anything the delicate woman had been through. That being said, Taurean could tell she was in shape and she hadn’t fallen apart…yet. She had allowed hints of her fear to show, the way she seemed to cling to him, the way she had a need to seek out the look of his eyes, despite the darkness. All that being said, she wasn’t in hysterics, hadn’t even cried that he had seen yet. Perhaps she was less useless than many of the women he had met who had lived a cloistered life.

Taurean merely grunted at her word of thanks again holding his tongue, he wasn’t sure if they were out of the woods yet, after all was there not a troll that could have gone over the falls with them?

Like Rhonwhyn Taurean let his eyes sweep the area and he could not really see much beyond the edges of the pool, surrounded by forest on 2 sides, the third was the river’s downstream flow. Looking back the way they had come Taurean had an impression of the cascading waterfall, and the tall cliffs.

He began to kick them back towards the falls, “I have an idea where we are, yes…” Taurean replied to her next question, “There should be caves around here somewhere, we’ll see if I can find them in the dark.” This extended response might have been the longest and most informative thing he had ever said to her. He could feel her grip, tiny hands tightening on his arm before she levered herself around in the water, rotating to face him. He started as she brushed his cheek, almost as if he had expected a much different touch, almost like a slap. He cursed himself for even that reaction, most would have missed even that slight pulling away, but he suspected this strangely intriguing priestess would see it. For whatever reason she pulled her hand back as quickly. He took a breath and put thoughts of it out of his mind, chalking it up to her need to be touched, it was not a far logical jump to assume that she enjoyed touching others as well.

Taurean resumed his swimming back the way they had come as he gave a grunt to her next question, “Not bloody likely. Nowhere is safe, not truly… the world is a harsh unrelenting place.” He said, his tone mostly flat but carrying the slightest undertones of bitterness.

Long minutes later they began to approach the rocks they had fortunately missed upon their plunging descent. It was as they reached the rocks that the attack came. Taurean had lifted Rhonwhyn from the water, his hands planted under her bottom to lift her, trying to ignore how soft her gentle curves were. It was the only way he saw to boost her up without leverage. He had no more than set her on the rocks, her feet dangling back into the water than something grabbed him and hauled him backwards taking him under. The troll roared its triumph as it started to drown Taurean driving him under.

Surprise filled the half-elf, his heightened senses had missed the approach of the troll, and he should have been more on his guard. He couldn’t help thinking it served him right, think about the beautiful woman’s butt, and now the fates were going to kill him for his indiscression. He twisted and thrashed struggling to fight free. His dagger slamming repeatedly into the troll. However, under the water Taurean had little ability to gain much speed or force, the water working against his strikes, and each stab and slash deflected harmlessly off the creature’s rubbery hide.

Taurean had one hand clamped around the wrist of the creature, trying to keep it from holding him under, ripping out his throat with those sharp nails, or snapping his neck. This was great, just great. What was he to do now; it wasn’t like the priestess would be any help.

As he surfaced he called out to her, belt pouch… there’s a magical oil of burning, fire is the only thing these things fear…” He had sheathed his dagger and was now hanging on to the beast with both hands. Finding he was unable to peal open the grip of the creature he reached down groping for his own belt pouch. He picked out the stoppered bottle and the tinder box. The oil would ignite upon contact with the air, but providing it a flame such as with tinder would make it happen even faster. He lifted the bottle to his teeth tugging at the stopper with them, but he could not get it free. He swore in multiple languages. “Here, catch.” He yelled the next time he came to the surface hurling the items towards Rhonwhyn, or where he had last seen her.

The tinder box landed smoothly in her hands, instantly recognizable by the feel what she was holding. The bottle however missed and fell beside her, hitting with the soft tinkle of glass. It was obvious that it had not shattered; however, there was the sound of it rolling as it began to slide back towards the water. Would she get it? Would she be able to save Taurean’s life? Had she understood what he had intended her to do? He hoped that lighting the tinder, if it was still dry, would let her see the combatants and she would be able to throw the burning oil all over the troll, hopefully missing Taurean in the process. There were a whole lot of ifs in that process, and Taurean was fairly sure she would fail and he would die, but nevertheless he continued to fight, both hands locked onto the troll’s arm his feet kicking ineffectually at the massive form’s body. He tried to continue to talk to her, so if she didn’t light the tinder she could throw the open viol at them by sound alone, but unfortunately most of his noises came out as gasps or chokes. Fortunately the troll continued to roar, probably giving Rhonwhyn at least some idea of where the combatants were. Taurean wasn’t sure what made him reach out and demand her help, probably self-preservation, he did not want to die, but perhaps there was a little part of him which did not want her to be alone either, without him she would certainly die out here.

 

[darkangel76]

His voice was rich and soothing to her ears, a welcome baritone as he finally moved to bring her toward some jutting rocks. Rhonwhyn did her best to shift her body slightly to aid Brandon, hoping it helped rather than hindered. But with how cold she felt, it was hard to tell if it did much if anything at all. Finally, she felt his hands reach underneath her bottom, lifting her up out of the icy waters to where it was dry. Never had she felt such relief, such...

Just as Rhonwhyn was about to mumble another 'thank you', she found her words stifled, cut short. Instead, she gasped, her hand moving to cover her bare chest and the swells of her breasts. Something had grabbed at Brandon, pulling him under the inky waters as if he were nothing but some toy, a plaything to taunt and tease. Terrified, she brought her feet up out of the water and scrabbled to stand upright.

Rhonwhyn's flimsy blue nightgown was soaked, clinging to her body like a second skin as she stood there trying to see what exactly was happening. Tiny shrieks escaped her as she watched the splashing struggle—guardian and creature—between dark silhouettes against the freezing water. Several times she reached out, her hand stretching as far as it could toward Brandon, though she knew the action was in vain. Even still, she could not stand idly by and watch the man who'd risked so much just struggle only to die in this manner. No. She couldn't have it. She wouldn't. She might not know him, not truly. But she was already feeling like she could trust him and that she wanted him near. He deserved life, not this morbid end.

Yet again, Rhonwhyn prayed to Ember and then to Brigantia herself, her pale eyes staring up into the sky. "Please," she begged softly. "Please..."

Looking back at the struggling Brandon, Rhonwhyn wished there was more she could do. She mumbled a few incantations in hopes to aid him, but they were simple at best. However, even simple things could prove helpful. Just then, she heard him grunt, his body thrashing though he seemed to move with purpose. Suddenly, he tossed something at her.

Rhonwhyn's first reaction was to recoil, her blue eyes unable to see as her head turned frantically from side to side to see what it was that had been thrown. She heard something strike the ground nearby. Something small, glass. Without hesitation, she got down on her knees and crawled toward the sound, her hands working desperately to find the item she knew that had fallen near her. Her hands found a tiny box first followed by the glass.

Biting down on her lip, Rhonwhyn picked up the items and stood back up. She looked back out over the water, squinting hard to see. But it was no use. She'd have to rely on her other sense for now. Swallowing hard, she lifted the little box—a tinderbox. Falling onto her knees she set the glass bottle on her lap and began to fumble with the box a bit until she finally ignite some tinder inside. She then took the bottle and managed to remove the stopper. Almost instantly there was an eruption of flames...

For the first time, Rhonwhyn caught sight of the creature in the water, her jaw dropping as she let out an audible gasp. Never had she seen anything like it. She also caught sight of Brandon as he continued his fight, her eyes locking onto him as she knelt there, her gown hugging her curves as her platinum hair dripped along her chest, her back. Shifting her eyes back at the creature, she immediately threw the flaming bottle at it. As the bottle moved through the air and toward the vile troll, she said another prayer to Brigantia that somehow her aim would be true and that somehow Brandon would stay safe.

 

[The_Gladiator]

The silence was broken repeatedly by the roars of the troll and the grunts of Brandon. There was the scrape of claws on leather as the troll swiped at Taurean with its free arm, the limb much smaller than the other limb that had Taurean by the throat. Seeing this shorter arm made Taurean wonder about the loose arm, however that was a problem they would have to deal with later. To Taureans great luck the armor held, and it only gouged the material rather than eviscerating the half-elf.

Suddenly the darkness around them, that unrelenting black was broken. There was the klink of flint on steal, and then the hissing noise as one of the shower of sparks caught on the dry tinder sending up a small flame, which would enable her to see what she was throwing at. It illuminated first the hulking 7 foot monster, ropes of green hair like snakes dangling from his head as it bared its teeth. The creature’s rubbery skin reflected the light. In that heartbeat Rhonwhyn could see the bulge of its bicep as it hauled Taurean farther from the water, doing its best to kill her protector. Then there was Taurean himself, dangling at the end of that arm. Thrashing and struggling. One arm clamped on the wrist of the creature while the other held his dagger again slashing and thrusting at the arm holding him now. He flicked eyes towards her and swore as the glitter of the flame spoiled his night vision, changing his eyes from the sight of heat to that of natural light. He caught sight then of a welcome sight. Her questing fingers had pried loose the stopper on the bottle and a spurt of flame had emerged.

He saw it arc through the air spilling flames in a spreading arch as they fanned out, seeking the troll. The wind for the first time working in their favor as they fanned the growing conflagration. The oil spilled out over the water’s surface burning and hissing as the water failed to put out the flame.

The bottle itself struck the troll in the back, where it detonated with a small explosion, the impact shattering the glass and spilling fire over the troll. The creature bellowed, this time in rage and pain rather than with murderous intent. It thrashed about wildly trying to escape the clinging fire, the unrelenting burn as its body began to catch fire, flaming to ash. It suffered and burned, as the one element that could prevent its regeneration, fire, took its toll on the beast.

Slicing off the hand that held him finally, Taurean pealed the still clutching fingers from his throat and disgustedly threw it into the sheet of fire on the water’s surface, watching it pop and crackle like some kind of macabre bacon. It did not take long for the whole troll to disintegrate into ashes eaten alive by the wildfire.
It was unclear if that last sentence was humor, or deadly in earnest.


“Well, that’s one potion that worked as advertised.” Taurean commented dryly, his rye words audible over the continuing crackle of the flames. “I told him I’d kill him if the potion failed me… guess he gets to live another day.”

Paddling back away from the heat of the still burning flames, Taurean slowly swam back towards Rhonwhyn. He approached her much more slowly this time, obviously showing signs of exhaustion. The half-elf was still gasping for air, where the troll had deprived him so long of a full breath. With eyes that shown as pale in the fire light rather than with their red glow he regarded her, this priestess that was much more than she seemed. She looked soaked, bedraggled, scared, and exhausted. Even with all of that, she had found the courage to save his life. Far more than what she seemed indeed. Taurean hauled himself up onto the rocks beside her where he sat, not even caring that his feet were still in the water for a moment as he struggled to regain his breath and composure. He should have seen that attack coming, should have not needed to be rescued by her. Granted he had told her what to do, or provided her with the tools, but still it had been her hand that saved his life. Had the troll not been distracted he could have not hacked off the hand before it succeeded in crushing his trachea. “Well now, that was fun.” He said sardonically, his stoic mask dropping a bit to let out the hint of dark humor that she had heard once before.

 

[darkangel76]

Rhonwhyn was sure that she felt her heart stop a thousand times over as she watched the flame arc over the water toward the beast while her new guardian and protector hung what seemed almost helplessly in the air by a beast unlike any other she'd ever seen. The troll was large and horrifying and made her blood run cold in her veins. She could feel her heart crying out for Brandon as the bottle suddenly struck the troll and she watched it engulf in flame, its hideous body sizzling as the fires slowly destroyed, killing it so that it would be no more.

A gasping whimper escaped Rhonwhyn as Brandon freed himself from the troll's grasp. She fell to her knees, as she watched him plunge back into the water. For a moment, she felt another pang of fear as she waited for him to resurface. When she finally saw his face above the water, she let out a tiny breath, her lips quirking up into the tiniest of smiles when she heard him muttering before swimming to where she was on the rocks.

The night had been cold and cruel, had toyed with them both and now... Rhonwhyn had no idea where they were, but felt a semblance of solace in the fact that Brandon had reassured her earlier that he did. Looking at him as he hoisted himself up, she suddenly felt her muscles beginning to relax, her body giving in to all they'd just been through. And she felt... cold. Tired. So very frightened.

And what of Torth? Had all of that been true of had that been a lie to further her pain and fear, her mistrust? Rhonwhyn wondered if she'd ever know the answer there. Watching Brandon, she began to shiver, her pale skin breaking out into goose flesh as she sat there.

"I do not think it was much fun for that beast," Rhonwhyn began as she shifted her body slightly, her hands moving to rub at her arms. Looking down at her lap, platinum curls dripping water, she paused a moment. "Perhaps we should come away from the water?" she suggested more than asked trying to stifle the chattering of her teeth.

Rhonwhyn found herself a bit fearful of the waters, her mind wondering what other beasts or nasties lurked within their inky depths. Besides, they needed to dry off, get warm before catching their death. They needed to rest, find somewhere safe... if that was even possible.

"Maybe search for those caves you mentioned?" Rhonwhyn's blue eyes turned hopeful as she looked at Brandon. "Are... are they safe?" For both their sake, she hoped they were. They needed to rest and regain their strength. And, she also knew, she needed answers. Answers as to who had wanted to kidnap her and why and... if they'd be back on their trail to pursue them once more.

As Rhonwhyn's mind swirled, she shifted closer to Brandon, her hand moving to reach out to him.

 

[The_Gladiator]

His cool gray eyes lifted to meet hers, the color still unclear but it was obvious in the lurid glow of the flames what he was looking at. “After all of that, you’re worried what it was like for the troll?” he asked coolly, all traces of humor gone from his tone, the words again flat, unfeeling. Slender fingers stroked his throat, feeling the gashes and bruises that had formed there already. He swore something under his breath in elvish.

As if her one comment wasn’t enough she continued to speak, “No, I thought we would just stay in the water until we succumb to hypothermia and die a slow agonizing death.” His words were biting, acerbic. “The caves were what I had in mind, as I already stated.” As he spoke he forced himself to his feet climbing out of the water completely, galvanized by his irritation and her words to get moving again. “Break’s over, back to work.” He muttered.

“If they’re not safe it’s your turn to stop them, I’m sick of saving your spoiled ass to only be thanked by some sort of misguided concern for how the troll felt. A piece of advice, don’t have sympathy for that scum, they wouldn’t shed a tear for you when they had ripped your head off to feast on your insides.” Even he realized his words were overly unfairly harsh, but his emotions were riding his iron willed control hard, threatening to escape his grasp completely.

As if he recognized this fact when she reached for him his hand was there to lift her to her feet. He held it for a second or two before he tucked it into his elbow once again as he began to move off through the rocks towards the cliffs.

It was not long before they approached the cliffs again, where the pounding falls made any further conversation near impossible. Passing to the left of the falls, he felt the spray washing over them as he lead her towards a cooler spot in the rock wall ahead, a cave entrance he had seen once before, one that he hoped would lead them into the cave system where they could find refuge from their pursuers.

Pulling Rhonwhyn through the opening he led her through a slowly slanting upward tunnel. His steps lead them back along the winding passageway until after perhaps a 5 minute walk in stifling silence they emerged into a larger round chamber, one with two other entrances leading in various other directions. It was here that Taurean stopped and took a deep breath, where he spoke the first words he’d spoken to her since the rocks by the water, “We will rest here.” He said quietly.

 

[darkangel76]

"I..." Rhonwhyn began, the tiny smile that had been tugging at the corners of her lips fading and quickly. All the relief she'd felt with that beast dead and gone, with Brandon safe as he sat beside her was starting to slip away. It was being replaced with that tension once more—tension of a different sort, one that made her insides twist into knots as her eyebrows furrowed and she suddenly found herself falling silent.

Rhonwhyn looked away from Brandon's eyes, no longer able to hold that gaze as her mind wandered to places she wished it wouldn't. She'd upset him, offended him. Her new guardian... after all he'd been through and done. She could feel her muscles tightening as she shivered, though this time it wasn't only due to the cold. But she wouldn't cry. She wouldn't.

Sweet Brigantia, she needed her and the strength of all her faces if she was going to make it on this pilgrimage... Truly, Rhonwhyn felt in over her head and was beginning to doubt if she'd been ready to leave Gomgoroth. If this was the world in al its cruelty and she'd merely only caught a glimpse... what other horrors lied in wait? Finally, daring to look at Brandon, she nodded as he took hold of her hand.

Rhonwhyn half expected her new guardian to refuse it, to scoff and tell her to get her 'spoiled ass' up on her own. Did she come off that way, she thought introspectively. She had honestly hoped she hadn't hindered him too much during their escape, that she'd even helped... a little. Oh, whom was she trying to fool?

As Rhonwhyn tried to rationalize, she felt Brandon's warmth as he wrapped his hand about hers, pulling her a bit closer as he held onto her hand and eventually tucked it safely in his own arm. The action caused her thoughts to halt, to become muddled as her pale eyes shifted to gaze at what he'd done. Peculiar actions for one spewing such venom, she thought to herself, but she didn't question him nor protest. Instead she remained silent, her mind wondering why this man was even helping her in the first place.

On bare feet, Rhonwhyn padded softly beside Brandon through the caves until they finally stopped. She had to admit, she was glad when they did. The thought of resting for a while seemed lovely and, at this point, was probably needed by both of them. She ran her fingers through her slowly drying curls and allowed herself to smile. The caves certainly were warmer than outside and, no doubt, safer.

"Thank you," Rhonwhyn said softly. "I feel very fortunate that you knew of this place and..." her voice trailed as she bit down on her bottom lip. Suddenly, she felt nervous, hesitant, as if she was being judged. "Thank you for being there when no one else was." She looked away, unable to hold his gaze as she spoke. "I do not think many would go to such lengths to save a humble priestess, but you... You did. And you did more than just save my life."

Suddenly, in that moment, Rhonwhyn could hear her own voice falter ever so slightly. Taking a deep breath, she turned around and clasped her hands together. As she exhaled, she turned back to face Brandon once more. Walking toward him, she reached out and dared to reach up and touch his face, a gentle brush before slowly dropping her hand. As she brought it down, it brushed against his own hand, still so very warm and strong and capable.

Rhonwhyn let out a tiny breath, her hand reaching for Brandon's. As she took hold of his hand—the one her own had accidentally brushed against—she knelt in front of him and placed her lips upon his knuckles. Peering up into his eyes, she softly whispered, "By Brigantia's light, I apologize for all the burdens I have placed upon you this night." Again she pressed her lips against his knuckles, her lips trailing light kisses along them. "And for the many more I may come morning."

 

[The_Gladiator]

Taurean realized that his harsh words had opened up a rift between them. It was a rift that needed to be there though, things would be easier for her if she thought him cold and heartless, then he couldn’t let her down like everyone else. It had been the heat of the moment that had let some of his guard down, but now he needed to put it back up, push her back away.

However, his actions had been gentle in contrast to his words, and as they used to say, actions speak louder than words. At least Rhonwhyn seemed to interpret things that way for rather than avoiding him like the plague she approached him again her hand brushing his cheek and then his hands. He knew the touch was a combination of the dark combined with her need for touch and he returned her touch with a gentle squeeze. “I was the one who deprived you of your protector treacherous as he was; I owed you protection until a proper replacement can be found.” His words were harsh but delivered softly. They were technically true, but by no means the whole truth, it was the reason he was going to give her. She did not need to know his wider mission at this time, as he had already thought to himself, decided on his own, she would be safer the less she knew.

He cleared his throat, “You are less of a burden than my earlier words would have suggested.” He said, the closest thing he had come to an apology in a long time. She had in fact surprised him more than once with her level head, and quick actions, even saving their lives once. However, he knew he couldn’t say such to her now, after his earlier words it would only come across as patronizing her.

He could feel the slight twinges of embarrassment as she almost abased herself before him thanking him. His words hopefully would show her that she did not need to do such a thing, however he knew this was her way and he had already insulted her enough this evening, so he allowed her, her moment before he slowly sank down onto the ground placing his back against the wall. He tugged his belt pouch free of his belt and began to dig through its magical depths. He was unsure of what all he had packed but he hoped he at least had something dry for the both of them.

He gently tugged his hand free of hers to help search through the pouch, his arm disappearing to the shoulder into a pouch that was clearly only 6 inches or so deep on the outside. He came out with a full clean outfit for himself and then a tunic for her, one that would probably be almost a dress on her. Because of the darkness he had to lay it directly into her hands, trusting her sense of touch would tell her what she was holding and what he intended. He yanked off his wet armor and ripped tunic. He let his hands explored his ribs, they were still sore, but thanks to her earlier work were nothing more than a dull ache, that occasionally throbbed, rather than the sharp breath stealing jolts he had gotten earlier.

Not wanting blood on his clean tunic, he figured he should treat the cut on his cheek and the bruises on his neck. He explored the wounds with delicate fingertips, and decided as much as it galled him he would need to ask for her help. His voice was somewhat gruff in the silence, as he cut it with his words. “Have you changed into the tunic? I am going to make a light, you will need light to help me bandage my cuts.” He did not ask her, his words sort of assumed she would help him. So, perhaps his manners were a bit rusty. “If it would not be too much trouble that is.” He said after a moment, seeming to rethink the harshness of his words.

He produced a lantern and then realized that she still had his tinder box. “I will need the flint and steal to light the lantern, unless you wish to do it.” He said sliding it towards her. He began to sort out ointments and bandages and needle and thread encase they needed it while he assumed she would light the lamp.

 

[darkangel76]

Rhonwhyn felt the tiniest flutter in her heart when Brandon told her she wasn't as much of a burden as she thought and, honestly, it was exactly what she'd needed to hear. It lifted the weight of the darkness that surrounded them both—an oppressive shroud that seemed to want to swallow them whole—as the night pressed forever on. She could hear the faintest traces of sincerity in his timbre as his voice resonated off the cave walls.

"Thank you," Rhonwhyn whispered, her lips smiling ever so slightly as Brandon pulled away, leaving her there on the ground as she looked up at his silhouette, still stark against the contrast of the darkness that engulfed them. She was glad he thought better of her than she'd anticipated given his earlier speech and even more so that he'd accepted her apology. Being allowed to express herself gave her an inner sense of peace, something she sorely needed after everything.

As Rhonwhyn shifted her body, moving to sit back slightly on her backside, her thoughts began to drift. Brandon had mentioned Torth, the man he'd come to replace. The man he'd... killed.

In that moment, Rhonwhyn could feel her mouth go dry. Truly those vile words those people had spewed had been true. Torth had betrayed her, had intended to give her away to those vicious people. By Brigantia's light why?! Why would he do such a wretched thing to someone?! She'd trusted him deeply and completely. Had she truly been that naïve? Feeling ashamed, she had no other alternative but to conclude that she had been and it made her wonder about so many other things... so many.

Just what other cruel things lied in wait?

Rhonwhyn shivered as she thought on those moments when she'd been tossed over the log, her body taunted and teased as that grotesque brute of a man—if he could even be called that—had looked upon her with greedy eyes and vile lust, his hands groping and touching what wasn't his. Suddenly, she choked on a sob that threatened to bubble up, but she managed to hide it. Clearing her throat, it was in that moment that she felt soft material touch her hands.

"Thank you," Rhonwhyn said with a nod. Slowly, she stood up, glad to have the memory interrupted as Brandon handed her what felt like a dry tunic to change into. It wasn't as luxurious as her nightgown or any of her usual dresses of her order, but it was soft and felt nice as she allowed her fingers to caress the material.

At that, Rhonwhyn stood up and began to peel her filmy blue nightgown from her slender body. The dampened material clung to her curves like a second skin, but fortunately she was able to remove it without too much trouble. Slowly, her fingers curled about the hem and she lifted it above her waist. Underneath she was completely bare, soft and pale like an angel from above. Finally, she pulled the nightgown over her head, her platinum curls falling through the neck hole like waves down along her back as she brought her arms down. Carefully, she folded the damp garment and then reached for the dry tunic. She brought the soft article of clothing to her face and rubbed her cheek against it briefly. It felt nice—so warm and dry. It would be nice to slip it over her head and allow it to cover her body.

After Rhonwhyn was fully dressed, she looked back over to where Brandon was and walked toward him. "Yes, I'm dressed and I can light the lantern," she said softly, almost shyly.

At that, Rhonwhyn moved to get down on her knees and began to work the flint and steel until she managed to light the tinder. All too soon the lantern was ablaze and her pale eyes caught sight of the healing aids that her new guardian was setting out. She tilted her head as watched him, her eyes truly looking at him for the first time though they'd been in each other's presence for several hours.

"So many gashes," Rhonwhyn said, a pang of worry clear in her voice. She reached out to touch one of Brandon's wounds, her hand pulling back just before her fingertips touched him. Her heart ached at the sight of all his injuries... injuries sustained as a result of rescuing her, saving her life. "I will see to your every injury, I promise you. If it hurts and I am able to help you... I will."

Rhonwhyn smiled at Brandon, her cheeks tingeing pink as she looked at him. Again, she reached out to him, her hand resting on his arm. She gave him a gentle squeeze, her blue eyes looking at him with reassurance, yet with a need for reassurance in return. It was so strange. Back at the temple in Gomgoroth, she felt so ready for this journey, but now? Now she felt so small, so fragile, so vulnerable. In a single moment, all that she knew had been changed, uprooted and altered. She just hoped she could find her way once again and somehow find her purpose.

 

[The_Gladiator]

There was the chink and click of flint on steal, followed by the chuff of tinder lighting. He heard her breath on the fragile flame, as she guided it to the lamp wick, and soon a soft glow of yellow light swelled lighting the room around them. The light revealed to Taurean what he had pretty much expected to see, the room they were in was an underground grotto of sorts, with 3 passages leading from it. Not the most defensible place, but the light revealed that along the 4th wall was a small cubby where Taurean figured the priestess could sleep and he could sleep just outside it, for it would be a tight fit indeed for them to both fit in it, however if she was protected that would be better than them both in the open.

The light also revealed the priestess to his gray eyes as he swept them over her. There was the pale hair he had seen under the torch light of the streets of Belbarren. The light reflected from the pale locks which draped down her back. The Eyes that he had known to be pale were a clear crystalline blue. He met her gaze for the first time when they could see one another. His own eyes were gray, stormy, swimming with blue undertones. They had the shape of an elf, although the color neither reflected the blue or green of a high elf heritage. His hair was cropped short, but it was clear that it was as dark as a raven’s wing, suggesting that if his eyes had been pure elven that they would have been green. His jaw showed the slightest shadow of a beard that no true elf could grow, again further emphasizing his mixed heritage. His features were a blend of the angular majesty of an elf with the rougher rugged look of a human, the human blood seeming to roughen the pure symmetry of the elven beauty, so rather than being beautiful he was more handsome.

His features were unblemished; save for a wicked scar that ran from his left temple down over one of his perfect high cheekbones. It was obvious he had come upon the wrong end of a blade at some point. It was unclear if the scar continued up into the hairline, if so the raven locks hid it. It clearly had missed his ear by inches. Almost as if in mockery of the scar, his other cheek was bleeding from a cut on the other cheekbone that coupled with the scratching around it suggested that he had been thrown into something rough.

His throat was covered in both bruises and scratches from the Troll’s claws and even as he met her gaze his hand wiped a bit of blood from his skin. He reached for his water skin, adding it and a second to his pile of things she could use to clean his wounds. The movement drew attention to his bare upper torso. He had his tunic and armor off now. He was not heavily muscled, but well defined, and each movement suggested his grace. The skin on his bare chest was unblemished, save for the bruises forming over his ribs on the right side, bruises she probably expected to see based on the injuries he mentioned sustaining to his ribs. The only other mark marring his skin was a scar over his heart that looked like he had been stabbed there.

His eyes dropped away from her eyes to take in the tunic he had given her. It went down long on her and the neck opening being larger made it appear low cut on her, but he supposed it would do. “It’s better than nothing I suppose. We will try to get you proper clothing soon.” He added. “You might want to lay the gown and my cloak out over those rocks so they can better dry.” He advised as he finished laying out the medical equipment.

“This one has water.” He said indicating the wineskin on the left, “And this one has wine.” He said indicating the other. He did not instruct her on what the rest of the items were; he figured that she could figure it out. The half-elf said nothing else, lost in his own thoughts. He was glad she had showed him no hatred for the justice he had hinted he had dispensed upon her former guardian. He sort of expected her to cling to the belief the man was innocent, so her lack of bile and hatred was surprisingly welcome. As his eyes swept over her, not for the first time the half-elf wondered how he had gotten into this position. “I will look for something more for you to wear, you must be cold.” He said and reached again into his belt pouch, his arm again disappearing to the shoulder. He came back with a blanket, “I do not think my pants will fit you, but if you wish to try I can let you try them on.” He offered after a moment. He himself still wore his wet pants and boots, the tight materiel looking even darker for the moisture in their depths and they contrasted strongly with the light skin of his bare upper torso.

 

[darkangel76]

Before doing anything further to tend to Brandon's various wounds and injuries, she picked up her damp nightgown and the cloak she'd been allowed to borrow and draped them over some rocks so that they had the chance to potentially dry off over the course of the night. Or, at least, dry off to some extent. Better damp than completely sodden. And who knew when they'd have the chance to let them air out and dry next. Once she was satisfied with how they were placed, she went back over to Brandon and sat back down next to him, her legs tucked up against her side.

Rhonwhyn took in the sight of all the items Brandon had been placing on the ground—truly that pouch of his was a magical marvel and she found herself wondering if it was Elven magic or some other dark enchantment that allowed him the ability to carry so many wonders inside. She was certain, however, he must've paid a pretty penny to come by such a treasure unless he'd been fortunate enough to be its heir. Either way, she was grateful he had such a thing and was thus able to be decently equipped.

"No," Rhonwhyn said, her voice still fairly soft, but certain. She reached out and touched Brandon's arm, his skin warm to the touch. "The pants are yours." Her pale eyes glanced over his body, lingering for a moment on his pants, which were soaked just as her own clothing had been. "Both of us will have something dry to wear this night," she added, her lips turning upward into a smile.

Rhonwyn's eyes traveled back up to look directly into Brandon's. Giving him a nod, she gently squeezed his arm. There was no way she was going to let him sleep in such conditions if she could help it. After all, he was being kind enough to aid her as he was, even if she didn't fully understand the why of it. She wondered if she ever would.

Biting down on her lip, Rhonwhyn hesitantly dropped her hand away from Brandon's arm. "No doubt you'd like to change?" she then suggested, her body shifting a bit where she sat on the ground so that she moved into a kneeling position.

As Rhonwhyn looked over at Brandon, her cheeks feeling a bit warm, she felt her tummy flutter a bit. In that moment, she decided to get a better look at the items he'd been setting out upon the ground. As she scanned them, she recognized a few straight away as various ointments and salves and other necessities that would help her immensely in treating Brandon. She also knew a few basic spells that could also potentially help should the need arise, much like she'd been able to do earlier on for his ribs.

Brandon's ribs. Rhonwhyn wondered how those were faring now that things had finally quieted, at least for the moment. She hoped he wasn't in too much pain any longer. Her spell had hopefully healed most of the injury he'd been bearing, but she knew it wouldn't be able to take it all away. However, if it helped, she'd be glad.

"By the way," Rhonwhyn mumbled, as her tiny hands began to sort the items Brandon had been laying out, her eyes fixed upon them as she spoke. "How... how are your ribs?" She bit down on her lip, her fingers suddenly working on one of the bottles.

Rhonwhyn was finding it difficult for some reason to open the bottle, but she tried not to let on. Looking up, her eyes found Brandon's gray and she gave him a smile. She truly hoped the pain had subsided. He looked exhausted from everything they'd been through. But then who wouldn't be? Her mind was swimming with so many thoughts, so many questions. So many...

And the cursed bottle still wouldn't open. Rhonwhyn frowned a little, though she quickly tried to cover it up with another smile. Her tiny hands continued to work at the bottle in vain. But it was just sealed too tightly. Finally, she gently set it down and reached for a different bottle, her cheeks reddening with embarrassment. Trying not to think on it too much, she glanced about the cave and took in her surroundings, noticing the various tunnels, nooks and alcoves. Finally, her eyes were resting upon Brandon again. She stared at his chest for what felt like several long seconds before she looked up into his face, her eyes connecting with his.

Tucking a platinum lock behind an ear, Rhonwhyn cleared her throat. "I do hope your ribs aren't bothering you too much... I'll have to take a look at them to see how they're doing."

 

[The_Gladiator]

Gray almonds gazed at the human Priestess as she began to sort the materials. “Yes, I will change, I figured I would handle that after we got the wounds tended to… no sense in getting blood on more than one set of pants.” He said softly. Then he thought he surmised part of her discomfort, “I will warn you when I do change, so you may look away…but let me tell you my lady, if one half-elf’s bare ass is the worst thing you have to see on this journey, consider yourself lucky.” Taurean smiled, slightly, a slight lifting of his lips, an expression that perhaps softened the potential for those words to come across as biting, when he obviously intended them to mostly be humorous.

He watched her small hands work to sort the materials he had laid out. She seemed somewhat nervous, and the half-elf found himself feeling somewhat to blame for that. He had been gruff and harsh to her, she might be naïve yes, but she was new to the adventurer’s road. Granted, Taurean never thought he himself had been that good-natured, and gentle, however she had proved herself capable more than once. So maybe he also cultivated his tough as nails persona, Brandon, the hardened warrior assassin, but could it really have hurt him to be a little kinder to a woman who had had her entire life uprooted and turned ass over teakettle? So what if his own life had never been perfect, did he have to take that resentment and bitterness out on this priestess? It wasn’t like this priestess; young as she was had ever had a hand in making his life more miserable, resent events excluded of course.

Taking a deep breath, Taurean blew out a long sigh. He would have to do better, he might hate people on some levels, however he did not wish to sit and watch the priestess be nervous and timid around him all the time. He was not a sick fuck who got off on other’s fear; yes he used fear in others to his advantage, but not like this. The priestess needed to learn that at least for now, Taurean was no threat to her.

His hands settled over hers, stopping her nervous fussing with the bottles. “They are much better.” He said his eyes meeting hers, “It was a brave and good thing you did earlier trying to help me. It was giving, and I’m not really used to that, I mean I know it was self-serving too, cause my being healed helped me save your life…” he cleared his throat, “But your inquiry now suggests perhaps that on some level you asked because you did not wish for me to be in pain.” He almost seemed surprised to say this to have forced himself to come to that revelation. “They still hurt yes… but, not as badly as they did before your quick actions.”

He took the bottle from her hands and set it aside. The priestess seemed comfortable touching him nervously, and when she wasn’t thinking, however when it came to tending to him in this manner, she seemed nervous. Therefore Taurean intended to help her. “Yes, you may examine them to see how they are doing. I believe you healed the break but I am sure your touch is much more suited to telling for sure.” With that the half-elf pulled her hands to his chest. Her hands had felt cool in his, still cold from the air; however they felt very warm against the smooth skin of his chest. That part of his mind that was Taurean, not Brandon, thought it was a little ironic that he had wondered what it would feel like to have this woman’s hands on his bare skin when she was healing him before, and now he was feeling it. He tried to clamp down on such thoughts, but for the moment, it seemed as if they were there to stay.

Trying not to make more out of the moment than it was, his socially inept way of reassuring her, Taurean picked up the bottles she had been trying to open and began to work loose the stoppers. His long fingers worked at the task of opening the bottles as he tried not to think about Rhonwhyn’s hands on his chest, touching him. It was necessary for her to touch him to help make sure of the extent of the remaining damage; even still, he was more aware of her touch than he would like to admit to himself. Such a moment would probably have been less awkward if Taurean was more social, however…small talk, was not one of his gifts.

 

[darkangel76]

The blush that had settled across Rhonwhyn's cheeks gave way to a tiny smile as Brandon suddenly shifted and moved to place his own hands over hers. His words and tone changed and, with it, so did the tension she felt squeezing her chest. Slowly, she felt the weight begin to lift and it was as if the bleakness of night was finally giving way to dawn despite the fact that darkness still hung heavy in the skies. At that, the smiled tugged harder at the corners of her pink lips, her tongue darting out briefly to lick them. Unable to stop herself, her pale eyes found Brandon's and she swallowed hard.

Rhonwhyn's thoughts were a bit muddled. But then, both she and Brandon had been through so much in just one evening. In some ways, it was hard to believe they'd just met. After everything that had just occurred, it had already felt like a lifetime, yet she really knew so little about her new guardian save a few things she was able to deduce due to observation alone. He was a survivor, skilled in the ways of the wilds as well as combat. He had a sense of honor, though she wasn't entirely sure of what all of his rules were there. She was certain there was more to be learned about this strange man—the one who'd killed her previous guardian, yet saved her life... the one who'd spew venom one moment, then dry humor the next—but as to what? She had to wonder if Brandon would ever let her in...

"I'm glad your ribs feel better," Rhonwhyn stated rather softly, her hands resting against Brandon's chest as he held her hands against himself. She bit down on her lip, her eyes looking directly into his as her slender fingers began to gently move along his chest.

Rhonwhyn took care to not press overly hard as she touched Brandon, his skin so very warm against her cooler hands. Slowly, gently, she let her fingers trail along his flesh, taking in the feel of muscle over bone, sculpted angles that made her suck in a sharp breath as each touch grew less hesitant. After several moments, she began to lean into her touches, her palms eventually going flat as she let them move along his abdomen. Truly, the man was beautiful in his roughened form and she found herself wondering if a man such as him knew this.

"I..." Rhonwhyn stammered. "Well, your ribs, that is," she continued, her hands suddenly stopping mid caress as she stared at his bared chest, her mind beginning to think too much. "They definitely seem much better." She gave him a shy smile, her cheeks a deep shade of scarlet. "I'm glad I was able to help you there."

Shifting her eyes slightly, Rhonwhyn eyed the bottles. She knew they'd be of use to help with Brandon's other wounds he'd managed to get thanks to those trolls... dreadful things. A shiver ran along her spine at the thought back on them. Looking back at Brandon, she brought one hand up to gently touch his face, the other still resting against his chest. She let her fingers trace just beside the cut he'd gotten on his along his cheek—one he'd gotten from a troll, no doubt.

"I... I can fix this," Rhonwhyn said, looking into Brandon's eyes. "There will be a scar and it will probably sting, but... I can, if you'll permit me to try." She bowed her head and hoped he'd give her the chance to aid him once again. After all, a closed wound was better than an open one and it was the one wound he had that seemed to still be bleeding.

 

[The_Gladiator]

Taurean continued to work on opening the bottles for her. However he found himself distracted more and more with each second. Her hands began to explore, to touch, to stroke. As she slid her hands over the ridges of his muscles, across the planes of his abdomen he could feel the muscles flutter involuntarily at the light touches, which were growing firmer, bolder with each second. The warmth of her hands contrasted highly with the cool of the air, and goose flesh rose on his skin. He typically had an iron will, and great control over even some of his autonomic functions, but some of the reactions he was exhibiting he found, he could not control.

He had not placed her hands directly on the wounds, however he had expected her to move quickly to the injured cite to inspect it. In contrast to his expectations, her hands were gliding in an almost sensual exploration of his body. As she touched him, her melodious voice floated into the air as she looked up into his eyes. He was aware of her relaxing and then as she tensed again, although the flavor of this tension was very different, as she licked her full pouty lips, lips that almost dared someone to kiss them.

Taking a deep breath his chest swelled under her hands as she spoke mentioning how they seemed to be doing much better, “You must have a healers touch, if you can deduce such when you have not even touched the sight of the injury.” His lips lifted into a slight smirk as he watched for the inevitable blush his words were sure to cause.

Whatever the reason, whether it be focus on something else, or just not reacting to his words, her left hand raised up to touch the cheek just below the cut. He had gouged himself on the tree bark when Grennen had hit him; however the gash on his face that was still bleeding had come from the troll as it had flailed at him. The beast had sliced open his face before it had latched onto his throat and proceeded to try to make him its next victim. Taurean had thought the cut merely from the tree, however that cut had since stopped bleeding, however the troll gash still bled.

Taurean listened to her words and snorted, “I already have a scar on the other side, I am sure that that will be nowhere as bad.” However, the fact she mentioned a scar told him that she did not have much healing energy left to her normally healing left the skin unblemished. However Taurean was not a vain person, he did not care if he added another scar to his appearance, and he was practical. This meant, that if she thought she could stop the bleeding, he was all for it. “You may proceed.” He said after a moment. He gazed into her eyes then, his gray almonds staring into her blue orbs. “I noticed you had not the strength to puncture my mental shields to aid in the healing. I felt your mental probe before.” This said much, that he had even been aware of her mental intrusion suggested that he had some magical or mentalist training. “If it will assist you I will try to lower some of my mental barriers for you.” He blinked; surprised he had offered such a thing. She was almost a complete stranger. However, he sensed no malice in this woman, and he trusted in his own abilities to keep her out of areas of his mind he did not want her to go.

His solemn words seemed to break a bit of the building tension between them. However he could still feel her hands touching him, and Taurean could no longer deny that her touch was doing more to him than it should. Was she like a siren? Was this some sort of trap? Was he falling into her web? At that thought he almost stiffened and pulled away, but he forced himself to remain still and stay where he was, however he was back on his guard, he wasn’t sure how she had gotten under his skin so easily, but he had ahold of himself again…for now.

 

[darkangel76]

Rhonwhyn could feel the burn as it spread across her cheeks. But it hardly stopped there. The flush that settled upon her porcelain pale skin ran the length of her neck, down along her chest and across the swells of her breasts that shown due to how large the neck hole of the tunic was. The garment wasn't meant for one such as her, but for someone larger of frame, rougher of body. As she shifted, the hem slid up along her thighs, revealing more of her flesh, baring more alabaster marble to the eye. If the material decided to slip any further, she'd lose all her modesty. But she was careful in her movements, making certain that the material covered what it needed to as she let her hands move over Brandon's torso, despite his words.

As Rhonwhyn finished inspecting Brandon's ribs, satisfied that they were in relatively good shape, she turned her attention to the bleeding gash on his face. Her pale eyes softened as she looked upon the wound, saddened that he had to endure such an injury on her behalf. How many had he sustained because of her? And how many more would suffer? She could hardly even begin to think on such things and already he'd surpassed Torth.

Torth... the man almost seemed like a distant memory. To think he'd lived and breathed just earlier that same night. Though Rhonwhyn had to shiver at the thought that she'd been so naïve as to think he'd been there to protect her, to guard and aid her. Truly she had much to learn about the world... As her blue eyes gazed upon the face of Brandon, she couldn't help but wonder what sorts of things he had seen and knew. She made a mental note to try and learn what she could from him while he allowed her to be by his side. No doubt she could learn many valuable things, things that could be a matter of death or survival.

After Rhonwhyn looked over Brandon's bleeding wound, she reached for one of the bottles. Biting down on her lip, she listened to him speak. She opened the one bottle and set it down beside herself, her eyes shifting their gaze between the bottle and his eyes. A hand reached up to play with a stray lock of platinum as she listened to him talk, mentioning that he could drop his mental shields if it would aid her. Her eyes widened for a moment just then.

Brandon had the ability to shield himself. It explained so much, though Rhonwhyn silently admonished herself for not realizing it sooner. The man was half-elven, clearly a ranger of the wilds. Of course he had abilities and knew magic that most did not. Of course... And it was why it took so much more of her energy to heal him as she had in the first place. He'd fought her to an extent, though not on purpose. It had been a guarded move, something she understood and didn't fault. She was novice, so the effects were more profound. Had it been the High Priestess of Gomgoroth administering, she wouldn't have felt the drain.

Blushing even more, the scarlet trail running along her neck and chest, Rhonwhyn nodded. "Thank you. And... yes. It would make things easier. I..." her voice trailed. "I wasn't trying to read your mind or anything. It's just how the healing goes." She hoped she didn't sound silly or trite. "I'd never pry, I promise you that."

Rhonwhyn shifted a bit where she sat, the tunic sliding up her leg a bit more, revealing just that bit more flesh. Tilting her head, she tucked a curl behind an ear and gave Brandon a smile. She then reached for the bottle she'd set aside and dabbed her finger on the lip. Reciting an incantation, she began to rub the solution over the cut.

While Rhonwhyn rubbed her wetted finger over the wound on Brandon's face, her other hand moved to rest on his chest again, slowly moving in lazy circles as she recited her words, her eyes fluttering closed as she spoke softly into the air causing a tiny light to glow about the wound.

 

[The_Gladiator]

Taurean wanted to smile at the way she blushed. She was so inexperienced, so shy that his joke had visibly flustered her. However her hands were still rock steady as she touch and explored the wounds. Her clear blue eyes showed what genuinely seemed like concern, and the half-elf again found himself surprised at the openness and genuineness of this gentle healer. She truly had a pure spirit that someone as jaded as he should envy. However Taurean again reminded himself he had never been that gentle or kind hearted, life had been much meaner to him than to this priestess he was sure… sure he had the scars to prove it.

“I know you would not pry, I was expecting last time for you to merely punch through my barrios as most healers I have interacted with did. I would have lowered them then, but we were sort of in a combat situation and did not exactly have time to meditate to lower my barrios.” He said a touch of that sarcastic bite returning to his words. But the slight smile softened the words again.

He recognized the solution she had dunked her finger in. It was a strong disinfectant. That was smart; there was enough bacteria under human fingernails, who knew what kind of disease that hideous troll had carried. The magic of a powerful healer would not need such a solution, but as tired and inexperienced as she was; she needed any help she could get probably.

Taurean was not sure she needed to touch his chest as she was doing, but dismissed it as her need to focus, to feel a greater connection to his life force rather than the light touch on his cheek alone. Trying to ignore the appeal of the touch, the assassin turned his thoughts inward. He found the place in his mind, where he had erected a wall around his thoughts. The psionic barrier was a skill he had worked hard to learn to form. It was second nature for him to shield. Whereas the untrained, the undisciplined mind was always open and took effort to shield, Taurean’s mind was always shielded and he had to concentrate to relax. Slowly the walls of the tower in his mind shimmered as if seen from a distance through desert air. Slowly they became hazy, insubstantial and faded to a thinness that she should have no trouble entering through. Of course this was just the best way to describe it, as it was all within his mind; the wall was the best physical analogy he could use to describe what the barrier did. Then he felt it again the glow spreading around her fingers on his cheek. Each fingertip aligned alongside the wound as she caressed his skin. Then came the tentative feminine mental touch. He felt it moving in deeper, as she joined with his life force, urging his body to heal itself, to speed his natural healing processes. He felt the sharp sting dissipate as she took on his pain. That was something he did not feel necessary, she did not need to feel his pain, but he also knew it was the way of a healer, they were trained to take the pain into themselves and then let it go, breathing through the pain, releasing the negative energy. He then felt her pushing deeper as she checked his bloodstream for poison or infection spread by the Troll. He was surprised she did that, was surprised she had the strength to do such. He knew the clerics thought their gifts came from their deities, Taurean believed it had to do with inner strength and magic, however he had no way to prove this, he was no healer or religious worshiper either…

Taurean could see the strain growing on her face, her words beginning to falter with her exhaustion. He had long since felt the wound knit, and based on the feel of her fingers on his face it had left no scar. Apparently she had had more power than she thought, or his lowering his shields had been less of a drain on her. Even so, she continued to search, to check, and to send energy into other cuts. He finally spoke, one harsh word, “Enough.” The single word breaking the spell, the reverie. As he spoke it he slammed back up his mental walls, shutting her out. He had started to feel vulnerable exposed to her like that, but moreover he had seen the strain the action had put on her. For some reason he couldn’t stand to have her hurt herself for his benefit, what was the point, why would she do such a thing? What had he done to deserve such a kindness?

After an awkward pause he cleared his throat and spoke. Her hands were still resting on him, her eyes still closed, “You did well, better than you think even I believe, but why would you cause yourself pain for me?” he asked trying not to make it sound like an accusation.

 

[darkangel76]

Rhonwhyn was lost in her words, her mind fixed on what she was doing as one hand worked on the wound while the other remained in contact with the bared skin of Brandon's chest. The words were just spilling from her mouth, rolling off her tongue as she recited the incantations that would heal him, repairing the areas where his flesh had been battered and torn from their earlier escapade away from Belbarren and their pursuers. As she felt each wound mend itself, her mind automatically went in search of the next, seeking out more and more injuries that needed her care, beckoning she aid and assist in making him whole once more.

But all too soon the link was broken, the spells and magic dissipating as Rhonwhyn felt her concentrating breaking the moment Brandon shouted out. Blue eyes blinking several times, she wondered if she'd done anything wrong? For several lingering moments, she tried to ponder what she'd done, if she'd gone too far. But she could think of no line that she'd crossed. Her intention had merely been to heal, to help, to ease the pains and cleanse the wounds on his body. There was no wrong there...

For what felt like an eternity, a silence hung in the air and Rhonwhyn was unsure of what to do. She retracted the one hand from Brandon's face, yet the other remained where it was firmly against the warm flesh of his bared chest. Biting down on her lip, her head tilted a bit causing platinum waves to fall forward over her shoulders, the tunic sliding over her small body with the subtle movement. She let her eyes drift then to his, seeking answers to the interruption and it wasn't long before she got them.

"I was just trying to heal what I could, I..." Rhonwhyn's voice was soft as she stammered, her lips almost trembling. "If I saw more, I wanted to fix it. If it was within me to do so, I wanted to try." She gave him a warm smile, her body shifting where she sat. "You deserve that after all you'd done," she then added, her one hand slowly beginning to move once again, tracing the lines of his body as she spoke. "You were brave and did things many would not despite the odds and now you are tired and weary. I have the chance to help you now and I have no idea if more things await in the future." Her cheeks flushed a little. "Besides, you'll rest better if your injuries tended to and isn't it better that I contribute by giving my all just as you did back there? Do you think you deserve any less?"

Rhonwhyn hoped that Brandon understood her reasons and would accept them. There was no mal-intent. She saw the goodness residing inside him. The very fact that he'd helped her, rescued her, had been honest despite some of his more biting remarks, she could see it. And not once had he wavered or faltered, not once did he give up. Why should she? Surely, his life had been much different from her own for him to wonder such things of her, of anyone.

Given the situation, Rhonwhyn wondered if Brandon would change his clothes into something drier and cleaner than the current pants he was wearing. Oddly, it made her realize for the first time that her hand was touching him, gently caressing him as she was sitting there. Not wanting to draw attention to herself or her thoughts, she just blushed harder, her pale skin going crimson as she let her hand resume what it had been doing.

 

[The_Gladiator]

Taurean swore softly in elven as he listened to her question his stopping her, defending her right to heal him. Here he was looking out for her safety and health. He could have continued to let her heal him until her strength was totally used up. Would have served her right….He silenced that train of thought, it would not have been right to take more than he needed from the priestess. However she seemed oblivious to the care he had tried to show her.

He finally growled, “I am no healer, but I know people, I make my living as an assassin.” He said his tones even and flat, as if he were saying he ate turnips for dinner, “I have tortured people for information, I know how far a body can be pushed.” His eyes were cold as he glared at her – how did she not get it – he sighed and continued, “That means I can sense when a body is tired, exhausted, pushed to the breaking point. So maybe before you get on your defensive high horse justifying your actions to me, as if I were ungrateful for your healing, which is not true, perhaps priestess you might want to search inside yourself, recognize that you were giving strength to me you could ill afford, and trust me I’m not worth it.” As he spoke he yanked out a mirror from his bag of tricks and handed it to her, taking the hand from his chest and placing the mirror in it. “Seven hells, look at yourself.”

With that the half-elf got up, his emotions roiling like a black cloud within him, the things she said, the things she did…hell, the way she touched him, why would anyone treat him in such a way? He sure as hell didn’t deserve it that was for sure.

Taurean took a moment to stoop back down and snatched up his clean pants. He thought of stripping in front of her just to scare her, to keep her from getting too close, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He cleared his throat, “I am going to change.” He said his tone much softer, more controlled now, he had safely locked up most of his emotions once again, and “You may want to avert your eyes.” Without further warning the elf unfastened his belt and then stripped out of the tight pants and boots. He had his back to her, revealing a perfect view of his muscled back and bare ass and legs. His back was covered in part by a tattoo of a heart surrounded by scrolling text in elvish script. In the center of the heart appeared to be two words, presumably names. Unfortunately part of one name was difficult to read as it seemed as if the scar on his chest went all the way through and there was a matching exit wound on his back, piercing the tattoo. However the other name looked fully intact, although not readable in the dim lighting. He also bore scars across his lower back that appeared to be caused by a whip or switch of some sort, perhaps a cane. It was obvious at some point he had been beaten.

Slipping into the clean pair of pants Taurean fastened them, replacing the wet utility belt hooking it closed it his waste. He turned back to Rhonwhyn. Sitting down beside her once again he cleared his throat, “Thank you again for healing me.” As he spoke he reached for the bottles of ointments, intending on dabbing the solutions into the remaining scrapes and lacerations, not that the priestess had left anywhere near as many as he had been dealt. He knew Rhonwhyn had said she would do this for him; however he doubted she would after he was so short with her. Besides, he was not sure he wanted her to touch him again so soon… well, he did want it… and therein was the problem for the half-elf.

 

[darkangel76]

The air suddenly felt so very cold and it wasn't the chill in the air that swirled about them that had caused it. Rhonwhyn hung her head slightly, her heart beating faster as a rush of adrenaline surged throughout her body while she sat there before Brandon. She felt so small in those moments as he spoke to her. Small and so unknowing of the world she was living in. It wasn't anything like what she expected, so full of people with manner and motive that she just didn't understand, just didn't...

At that, Rhonwhyn looked at herself in the mirror that Brandon had thrust her way. She looked at her reflection that stared back in the shimmery glass and it definitely was quite a sight to beholden. Her face looked worn and weary, tired from the night's events with dark circles under her eyes. The contrast was stark against her alabaster skin and angelic features. Biting down on her lip, her pale eyes shifted from the looking glass to her protector and she felt a flutter in her tummy. Already this man was assuming his new role and it seemed to run deeper than merely protecting her from trolls that lurked by rivers' edges. Just what was it about this man, this so-called assassin?

Suddenly, Brandon stood up, clean and dry pants in hand. Rhonwhyn gave him a nod in acknowledgment when he mentioned he would be changing. She understood, her body shifting a bit, causing the tunic she wore to slide up her thighs as she moved. Per his suggestion, she averted her eyes, a hand nervously moving to reach for her hair so as to play with one of her stray platinum curls as she waited. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his movements as he began to undress. For a brief moment, she couldn't help it, her eyes deceived her and she looked over at him while he changed. She caught sight of his body, it's shape and how his muscles seemed to flow as he moved. He had a definite grace about him, something that almost beckoned her attention. She noticed the markings—tattoos and... scars? Just then, she had to stifle the tiny breath that caught in her throat. Biting down on her lip, she realized she was beginning to stare. Averting her eyes once more, she waited for Brandon to finish.

When Brandon sat back down, Rhonwhyn looked over at him and attempted to smile, her hands reaching out to take the bottles away from him. "You're welcome," she said softly. She took the one bottle and began dabbing the disinfectant on her fingers followed by an ointment that should aid in healing some of the smaller wounds. Leaning forward, she began to just apply the contents of the bottles onto Brandon's remaining few wounds. "And thank you for being kind enough to protect me from myself," she then added, her free hand moving to touch his leg. "I hadn't realized what I was doing to myself and I... I needed the reminder." She gave him a smile as she pulled her hand away from him, her other hand still resting upon his leg.

Rhonwhyn put the bottles she'd taken from Brandon and had placed beside her back once more now that she was done. She leaned in close to inspect his wounds once more to make sure they appeared properly treated. Once satisfied, she nodded and let out a tiny exhale.

"Well, that's about all we can do for now," Rhonwhyn stated. "Those should heal up properly enough. Now you need to rest and let time do its work." Her hand gave Brandon's leg a gentle squeeze as she smiled at him. "And... hopefully your ribs will feel even better by morning," she added shyly, her cheeks tingeing a bit of pink as she spoke, her mind filled with curiosity about this man. Curious about the tattoo and even the scars he donned on his back.

 

[The_Gladiator]

Taurean allowed Rhonwhyn to take the solutions back from him and administer to his wounds. “You’re welcome.” He grunted by way of reply to her thanks. “I am sure your temple mistresses would tell you that you need to always be aware of yourself, the things you say, the things you do, both in healing and in everyday life. You must be aware of the world around you, take everything in, learn from what you see. I can tell many things about you just by looking at you just from our small interactions, I am sure you can draw conclusions about myself, although my guess is with less detail as you have not practiced to my knowledge, as much as I have at the skill.” He had intended his words to be an admonishment to always pay attention, but somewhere in the middle of speaking it had become more like a lecture, or the way an instructor would teach a pupil. His tone was not condescending, but rather even and calm. Why was he doing this? Why did he want to teach her? Perhaps it was so she could be less of a dead weight on their forthcoming travels. However, he had a suspicion that part of it dealt with his desire to protect her, to have her be able to protect herself, and because on some level he was growing to care for this stranger. They had been through a lot as it was.

He acknowledged her words about his wounds being treated and likely to heal with time nodding in agreement. “Yes time heals most wounds.” He said before shifting his topic back to his older words, “So, I will show you what I mean. You are a young woman, my guess is in her early 20’s, no less than 20 no older than 30, you are around 5 feet, give or take a few inches, your weight is light. You are at times naïve and at others very experienced, this suggests to me that you have been trained in many skills, yet not really had time to practice and perfect your art. You seem frightened and yet steady under pressure; again here your training falls into play. You have an almost unconscious need for touch and reassurance. You have at least some sexual experience, because even though shy, when you actually touch a man, in this case myself, you do without the faltering inexperience of a virgin.” Here he actually smiled, “I could continue, but we will start there. Did I get anything wrong? Do you see how being observant can show you so much about a person.” Why was he teaching her, what did he care. Taurean didn’t have those answers and yet he forged on with his lesson. “Now, you try it… what is it you think you know about me?” he asked his green eyes meeting her soft blue ones as he reached for his tunic, figuring his anointed wounds were dry enough. He slipped the black material back over his head, before he met Rhonwhyn’s eyes, “So, what guesses or observations do you have?

After getting dressed the half-elf pulled a small container from his bag, and produced dried meat and bread. “I know we are both tired, but eating is also important.” He said while he awaited her response to his earlier words.

 

[darkangel76]

As Brandon began to speak, Rhonwhyn moved into a kneeling position by his side, her hand involuntarily sliding onto his leg as his words began to spill from his mouth and into the small cave in which they now both found themselves. The space was dim with firelight from the lantern, but bright enough for her to see every expression and movement her new protector made. She looked upon him, her eyes transfixed, and nodded, platinum curls falling about slim shoulders as she watched.

Suddenly Rhonwhyn felt her cheeks grow warm, Brandon's comment about her touch—every word he uttered about her person, her thoughts, all of it—was correct. It was in that moment that she realized just how vulnerable she was, just how unaware she'd been. Torth had never explained such things, then again... he'd betrayed, had been willing to sell her body and soul to those wanting to use and harm, wanting to destroy any and all honor she'd had, all respect...

Tears pricked Rhonwhyn's pale eyes as realization set in, her hand moving away from Brandon's leg to rest in her own lap. It felt awkward to place it there, away from him, away from his warmth. She hadn't even realized her own actions, her own needs, yet this man in a matter of a few hours understood her better than most. It was unnerving. What more could he know if they traveled together longer?

Rhonwhyn allowed her slightly damp eyes to travel up toward Brandon's face, her mouth going dry as she locked eyes with his. For the first time in his presence, she felt nervous. "You're right," she began. "I'm but two and twenty and have lived most of my life within the walls surrounding the Temple of Trine at Gomgoroth." Her cheeks burned at the admission, glowing brighter with each word she uttered. "And... I'm no virgin," she continued. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, a vain attempt to wet them. "It's... it's a part of our... our training," she went on to explain. She shifted a bit, the tunic sliding a little along her leg, the neckline dipping low along her chest.

Rhonwhyn figured that Brandon didn't need to hear what he already knew, but that he'd appreciate her admitting and acknowledging what he'd been able to ascertain. That it would show him her humility and understanding of the importance in what he'd done by telling her such things.

"And... and you?" Rhonwhyn continued, biting down on her lip briefly as her eyes looked upon him. "I know I have much to learn, I concede that," she stated, lowering her eyes, showing her humility. "But I do know you aren't fully human. I knew that from the beginning." Her eyes looked back into his once again. "There is elven blood in you and you know of the wilds, how to traverse and navigate them." She paused a moment, her mind thinking about the tattoo and scars on his back. "And, you know of pain," she said, worrying she might be crossing a line. "But... I think you also know of love."

 

[The_Gladiator]

Taurean listened to her responses, when she confirmed her age he nodded. “So I guessed.” He simply said. He nodded as she confirmed the rest of the things he already knew. He was aware of her embarrassment as she realized how she had been touching him. He almost told her it was alright, but he did not, unsure he needed the emotional entanglement that the touch could lead to. He was aware of this aspect of her training, suspecting this was why she had been kidnapped, but he had not told that part, it was not necessary to tell all he knew. He of course was not surprised that his words had rung true; he had no doubts about his abilities.

He nodded approvingly as she began to speak telling what she knew of him. She started with the most obvious, “Aye, I am a bastard half-elf. Although the infravision’s telltale glow gave me away I am sure, but yet it is still good you noticed such, some would not.” He said, at first seeming to belittle her observation and then giving credit where credit was due and complementing her. It of course was very clear he had elven blood in the light, the light highlighting his almond eyes, arching brows, and the fine points of his ears.

He then responded to her second observation, “Yes, I have spent much time in the wilds; I am also a bounty hunter, not merely an assassin. They might not teach the differences between such things in your temple, but there are differences.” He then listened to her continue to speak. His face darkened as she mentioned that he had known pain and then that he had known love as well. “I’m fairly sure that someone peaked while I was changing and I had my back to you.” His lips twitched into a smile at that anticipating her blush, she embarrassed so easily. “Yes, I have known pain, pain you cannot even imagine in your cloistered pampered life.” This last statement sounded bitter, a bit resentful to be having the topic on this subject now. “Love? If I knew love I was very young and I sure don’t remember it. I wear those names for one reason and one reason alone, so I will never forget the price of failure.” This statement bore even more emotion, a twisting jumble of it, venom, anger, resentment, self-recrimination. His words sounded so final, and yet rang hollow in the air, they did not ring with truth, they rang with defensiveness. “Never accept failure.” His voice sounded more controlled now and yet still agitated. It was clear he was only partially irritated with her for bringing such up; most of the emotions were directed inward. “Never accept failure in yourself and expect failure in others, it’s how I live my life and has saved me a lot of hurt. The second you put your faith fully in someone, they will let you down. They will fail you. I mean look at that sorry bastard who sold you out. What’s his name, Torth? You gave him everything, your faith, your trust, hell I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t fucking him, I can tell you worshiped the ground he walked on.” His tone was only partially mocking, but more matter of fact. “You trusted him and where did that get you? He failed you. I’ll come right out and say it. Killing him was not in my contract, but killing him, watching his eyes fill with fear as he realized his sins had caught up with him…I relished every goddamned second of it. He earned a swift death, for you were of greater priority…my regret is I couldn’t have killed the bastard slower, made him pay for what he did to you.” He watched her, gaging her reactions to what he was saying. “And on the flip side as I said, just when you think you would, could never hurt someone, you inevitably will fail them. So as I said, expect failure in others, never tolerate it in yourself.”

Taurean closed his mouth realizing in that moment that he had probably said more than he should. He grabbed a piece of dried meat and began to chew, filling his mouth before he said anything else that probably wasn’t necessary. However what he had said was necessary, harsh but – necessary. The priestess needed to learn. She was not in her marble palatial temple anymore, she was in the real world, and the real world was a rough and unforgiving place.

 

[darkangel76]

More than a few times Rhonwhyn felt a fluttering wave of emotion wash over her as Brandon spoke. Her small frame shifting slightly as she knelt beside him while her pale eyes did their best to remain fixed upon his. She could feel the heat sweeping across her cheeks as it worked its way along her neck, down her chest and finally across the swells of her breasts as they heaved above the low neckline of the tunic she donned. His words struck her several times, especially his crude choice in how he said things. It made it difficult to gauge whether he wished to cause her discomfort or...

No. No. It wasn't that. Not really. Rhonwhyn caught Brandon's smile as she blushed, heard the bitterness in his words when he mentioned Torth... Again, she felt the heat rise, her porcelain pale skin breaking out into goose bumps as he seemed to mock the idea that she and her previous protector—no, her betrayer—might have been intimate, might have had relations that went beyond his oath as a guardian. Relations of the flesh.

But no. It couldn't have been farther from how it had been between them, though Rhonwhyn had known the man had at least appreciated her face, her form, her softer features. Overall, the man had kept his distance. Whether it was by lack of desire or due to stronger outside motivations, she did not know why he'd acted as such. But he'd made sure to keep a clear line drawn at all times between them both, however he indulged her the comforts he sensed she needed to ensure her happiness. Or had that been his guise the entire time? A means to lure her in, to make her feel safe, secure and at ease. Honestly, she hardly knew now given things. Torth had sworn to protect her from harm, to ensure her safety as she traveled the lands of the Kingdom of Ersheath and perhaps beyond. But the reality of it all was that his intentions had been dark and self-serving and she'd been blind to it all... and fortunate that this half-elven man intervened.

Still blushing, Rhonwhyn listened to Brandon as he spoke, her hands resting awkwardly in her lap. She had the urge to move them, to reach out and do something with them. Feeling a bit agitated, she slowly reached up and began to twist her platinum curls about her fingers in almost a nervous manner.

"I'll try to heed that advice, Brandon," Rhonwhyn stated softly. "Though..." she went on, her voice almost faltering as she spoke. "Why see the world in such black and white contrast, such stark tones. The world is much more complex than that, is it not?" She bit down on her lip for a moment, her fingers twisting her hair more feverishly, her other hand sliding along her thigh absently. "Full of grays and colorful tones, things I'm sure I'll never come to understand." Again, her hand was on Brandon's thigh without her realizing it. "Just what sort of past have you suffered to lose faith in all you come by?" Her hand began to gently caress him, giving him a slight squeeze. "Had I expected failure in you, I don't think I'd be sitting here... talking... breathing... living."

 

[The_Gladiator]

Taurean watched her as he spoke. Every action every movement was a study in nerves. She breathed agitation and discomfort like he breathed air. She seemed caged by her need to touch him and her will was trying to sublimate for she had felt shame for her actions when he’d pointed it out to her. He had not tried to make her uncomfortable with that offhand comment, and yet what he intended had not really mattered in the end.

However, as she started to speak her hand jumped back to his leg. “If you had expected me to fail you would have saved yourself, we all face such struggles where we are alone and the only one we can count on is ourselves. You lucked out this time that I was there, and that I remotely gave a shit about your plight, and that I had the skills to rescue you. There are lots of ifs in there. If I had not been there, if I had not cared, if I had not had the ability to rescue you, if I had been more seriously injured. Do you understand what I am trying to get at?” he sighed and fell silent. How could he expect this priestess to understand, she had been through so little, he was silly to think she could remotely fathom what he was saying? She was used to being able to wave her hand and have servants come running, for sure the possibility that she could have or worse hadn’t sunk in. She had never had to face a need for self-reliance, at least not to Taurean’s eyes.

The half-elf had ignored her question about his past, at least for the moment. He ate in silence, “Yes the world is filled with gray, but the gray often strays closer to black than white in the real world.” He finally said, much more softly than the last bit. His thoughts seemed drawn inward again, as he obviously in some ways was torn up by his own thoughts, perhaps that past she had asked about that he had not answered about. After a bite or two of food he finally spoke again, “My life is unimportant, do not patronize me priestess, you actually expect me to believe you care? I spent two years with Shyra Lath, she was my lover, and even she did not care to learn my history, so don’t pretend that you care to learn about me when you’ve not even known me more than a couple of brief hours. Then again we saw how much her history with me ever meant, she would have willingly slit my throat back in those woods given the chance.” This last sentence was the first slight hint that he might recognize that perhaps she might truly care, that she was not Shyra, for if Shyra were willing to kill him, that might explain why she never even bothered to learn his history.

He seemed so conflicted with Rhonwhyn, one moment nice and kind to her, the next minute pushing her away, his words biting. However it was growing more and more clear that some of his venom was not an attack on her but a defense of himself, his way of keeping her at a distance.

 

[darkangel76]

At first Brandon's words seemed venomous to Rhonwhyn's ears, words that were meant to sting, to hurt. Her body was on the verge of recoiling until he'd mentioned he 'cared'. Cared... A tiny slip of such a tiny word, yet the word itself held much meaning to her, though she had to wonder if it did for him as well or if he'd even realized what he'd just said or the impact it might have had. For a man such as him to use it, a man such as him who barely knew her... it made her wonder, ponder, question. Had it been subconsciously intentional? Had he been aware of his word choice? Had he...

At that, Rhonwhyn could feel her mind swirling with questions as it mulled the possibilities, drifting over how his words and actions, his intent and perhaps what resided behind his wall he'd built around him, shutting her out, seemed to clash so greatly. A complicated man, this Brandon—her protector and guardian. She could sense his pain, his frustrations as he continued to speak to her, trying in vain to explain things she knew she'd never fully understand. Though, for him, she found herself trying, found herself longing to understand with an almost near desperation under what she hoped was a calm exterior. But it hurt that he seemed to think so little of her, that he doubted her sincerity and motives. Never before had anyone made her feel so small. As it was, she already felt rather insignificant in the world, seeing just how big it was, how colorful and strange. Of course, she understood that not all of what the world had to offer and show was beautiful. That not all of it was fair or happy. But she liked to hope that such things could be found if sought, that it came to those who deserved it.

Pale eyes pricking with tears, Rhonwhyn looked over at Brandon, her hand still resting against his leg, caressing it gently as she sat there. She suddenly became aware of her actions, her breath catching as her eyes closed in embarrassment. Almost immediately, a heat swept across her cheeks undoubtedly turning them red. Biting down on her lower lip, she hesitantly, reluctantly, pulled her hand away and let out a heavy sigh.

"I am not your Shyra," Rhonwhyn found herself mumbling as she brought her hand to her lap. "I am nothing like that." Her thoughts drifted back to that moment in the woods when that woman willingly let the half ogre drag her into the woods. She could still remember the way that vicious brute had touched her, his breath had been hot and pungent, a stink she'd never forget. No. She was nothing like Shyra Lath. "So do not compare me and break your own rule when you do not even know my own history."

Rhonwhyn could feel her own anger bubbling up at the accusation, something she hadn't expected to feel. But the idea of being compared to someone so cruel and mean spirited, it just didn't set well. It bothered her and knotted up her insides. Tears began to roll down her cheeks so she looked away.

"Is it wrong for me to want to know about you?" Rhonwhyn then asked, her voice a mere whisper as tiny breath caught in her throat. Once again, her hand found its way back to Brandon's leg, her fingers trailing light caresses along it. "Is it wrong that I... care?"

 

[The_Gladiator]

Taurean let out an uncharacteristic growl of frustration. His words had hurt her feelings, he could tell, why did he care? Did he actually care? He found inexplicably he did and also strangely felt this desire to apologize. However he bit his tongue and then ground out, “I never meant to suggest you were Shyra. If you were I would slit your throat, and call it self-defense.” He gave a bitter laugh, “What is that saying? Hell hath no wrath like that of a woman scorned?” his chuckle continued, “She wasn’t real happy with me when I climbed out of her bed and walked away. Not that she ever gave a damn about me; I was a tool, just like everything is a tool to her.”

Taurean felt like he were trapped, this woman, this priestess was making him feel, he was cool, dispassionate – wasn’t that a fucking joke – He felt like caged fury. He wasn’t angry at her, but rather with himself, at the world around him. “Yes it is so wrong.” He finally said coldly, “No one else has given a damn, why should you. You are asking to know things that I have told no one… Tell me Priestess, what right do you have to such things, what have you done to earn it? Healing me? Although it was kind of you and I thank you, I only was injured because I was rescuing you. So clearly that isn’t a good reason. Tell me, what other reasons do you have?”

Taurean tried to focus on eating, but found the food already unappealing tasted like ashes in his mouth. There were too many things in his mind to be able to act completely blasé. His control was slipping. He finally set aside the food. Placing it in Rhonwhyn’s lap, for she had still yet to eat anything.

Her touch on his leg should have been soothing, but there was a part of him that did not want to be calmed, there was a wounded animal inside Taurean, and for some reason it was rearing its ugly head. Why now – what was it about Rhonwhyn that so shattered his aloof affections?


The flickering flame, the soft glow of the lantern showed Taurean’s face, it was painted in harsh angles, the rugged beauty of the half-elf seeming almost cruel and foreboding in the low glow of the flame. His lips were pressed together in a thin line and his eyes focused on nothing like he wasn’t really seeing the simple cave, but his eyes were far away seeing so many other things, other places. The depths of a past that Rhonwhyn could probably only guess at – would probably never understand – and yet, still she asked. She pried, invited, so gentle. Weren’t there predators that looked harmless? Could she be really as guileless as she seemed? No surely, the other shoe would drop eventually, she would get him right where she wanted him before she showed her claws and struck. Everyone betrayed, everyone hurt someone eventually – surely that was true….right?
Muttering a curse Taurean rose and began to pace the caged beast seeking an egress, an escape, driving him into action. Taurean didn’t fidget, didn’t waste energy. Or perhaps he did. It was Brandon who was calm and unfeeling, Taurean however – he had once been different. He had once been something different, before he became this – the killer – the adult.