Beneath the skin lies my heart. (Closed for the lovely Alana_ )

Name: Aaron
Age: 27
Occupation: Soldier, captain
Appearance: 6' Short light brown hair, green eyes, hard toned build, scars littering his body.

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The crows would not feast well today, but they would have their meal.

That grim thought skittered across his mind as he let his eyes settle across the battle field. The sounds of steel on steel, steel on flesh, and the screams of the wounded, the commands of men rallying were all pervasive. He could smell death everywhere. To think, all of this started because of a woman. Women were nothing but a blight. A joke played by the gods on men. Men were dying today, because a woman could not keep her charms under control. She smiled at the wrong man, and now there was death. When this was over, the woman was going to be strapped within an inch of her life if he had to do it himself!

A shift in the breeze gave him the moment of notice he needed. He heard the hiss of the shaft before the arrow struck him. Leaping to the side to save his life, he had to adjust mid air. Bringing his blade up as his body careened through the air sparks exploded from the contact of metal on metal. He could feel the jolt of motion flooding through his wrists, to his arms, then his shoulders. He landed hard, off balance for a moment, the much bigger man drew back the large, curved falchion.

He would not be able to deflect this blow. The larger man had far too much strength, and Aaron was on his knees to boot. There was an advantage to having a smaller blade however. It did not grant you reach and power to chop a man in two, but it usually allowed you to strike first. He twisted the long sword in his grip. Palms to the hilt he drove upward with a snarl of rage. Coldly, impassively he watched as the big man struggled with the sudden invasion of steel that parted flesh and sinew. The smell of entrails washed out as the veteran captain twisted the blade. He felt it catch on the lower lumbar vertebrae, and quickly he yanked back, pulling his blade out before it was snared in between spinal discs.

The big man struggled valiantly, he started to bring the big curved blade to bear and bring about a mutual slaying, but every man had a common enemy, and death was not an easy opponent to fight off. Skill with a blade could only get you so far in the end. The large blade fell from nerveless hands and as Aaron watched the light faded from his eyes. Realizing he must have severed the spinal cord when he pulled his blade free he nodded. It was a merciful death then, bleeding out while trying to hold your insides in place was a hard way to go. Painful, without the slightest hint of dignity. The good news for this giant of a man, he would not be around to see his guts spill out.

Rising with a grimace he glanced around quickly. The battle seemed to be dying down. There was a high butchers bill today, but thankfully from a quick look he realized it was mostly on the end of the enemy. Villagers attacking an armed host. Honestly, what were they thinking?

His voice carried over the din of dwindling battle. A voice hard, rough, made for just this environment. “Let them fall back. We have made enough orphans today men. Gather our wounded, and our dead, and form rank. I want to have a look around before we move on, I don’t want another battle today myself. It’s not even noon yet.” There was no emotion in his tone, but it carried a definite hint of command.

Leaning down he wiped his blade upon the fallen man’s coat. He had the look of a trades man, maybe a blacksmith? With muscles like that he had a hard life. It was over now though, and he would never come home, or return to his trade. All of this for a woman…
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The camp came up in a quick, orderly fashion. The horse lines were well away from the cook fires, and men set to guard them. They left an angry indigenous force on their heels, and angry locals would do just about anything for any small measure of vengeance they could have.

He drew a breath slowly. He felt used up right now. Laying in bed without a stitch he closed his eyes slowly. The smell of sex still lingered in the air. Odd how he had searched for comfort in the arms of a woman, when it was indeed a member of that gender that had caused him to loose fifty good men today. His hands were still sore from digging graves. The thought of this caused him to knead her breast a little more roughly than he had intended. She gave a yelp and pulled back to cover herself with her hands. She had become a favorite of his, or as close to as he ever let himself have. By favorite, it meant that she had shared his tent multiple times. She was already familiar with his habits, and his desires. She was not always the one he brought however. Something he knew she was jealous about.

He felt her body relax, and her arms searched out his skin. He felt her fingertips tracing his scared chest. He could remember clearly almost every scar, and how he had earned it. Each one had been a learning experience. Her lips were on his skin. Tasting the mingle of sweat and sex on his pelvis. He let out a soft gasp, his body instantly reacting to the feel of her. However he could not let his mind stop wandering. A part of him wanted to let her pleasure him again, but his mind quickly squashed the thought. He knew what she was doing. She was trying to win his affection by standing out as the one who gave him the most pleasure. She was trying to make a husband out of him. He could feel the longing in her kiss, the need in her touch. The need to feel like a cherished woman, and not just a vessel for his desire.

For a very brief moment he closed his eyes as he felt her lips curl around his slowly hardening length. His fingers curled into her hair in a manner that was very encouraging. She did know many of his desires, and what really made him more willing to give more. He tugged at her hair and let out a soft groan as he felt his length harden in her lips. She made a noise of blissful pleasure and her hands were on his stomach, raking her nails over his bare flesh. The urge to please him, to be worthy of him was in her eyes, he could read it clear as day.

He pulled her off his length with a quiet snarl. Shocked, the woman crumpled in a heap as if struck. He saw her body tremble with a silent sob, she looked at him with unshed tears in her eyes. He shook his head at her.

“Enough Myriam. We both have other things we need to be doing. I cannot lay about all day. Get dressed. I need to go check to see if my scouts have returned.”

She knew better than to break down and cry in his presence, she had learned very quickly that such a thing only made him more angry, and usually meant he took another woman to his bed after. He had kept her away for nearly a month once, when she had lashed out at him dramatically.

He threw on some clothing, and was about to head out of the tent when the flap came open. The startled runner took in the naked woman who clutched the nearest sheet to her bare form and then cleared his throat embaressed.

“Sir. Sorry to disturb you, but you are needed to look at something. The scouts found….something on the beach near by.”

The older captain furrowed his brow, the woman in his tent forgotten and perked a brow. “Something? Animal, vegetable, or mineral boy?”

The boy just shook his head and led Aaron to the scouts. A horse with a fresh saddle was waiting for him and he blinked. It must be a serious situation.

A quick report was handed to the captain and he was in his saddle quickly. The trotting horses made their way down the rocky cropping of the shore line. Dismounting there was an indistinct form laying in the sand. Curious, he leaped off his horse and with only a small short blade at his side he strode toward what was rapidly coming to look somewhat like the body of a some creature.

Only body was not the right word.

It looked as if whatever it was, had been skinned. Only there was no abrasion marks no torn flesh, no blood, no ichor. Almost as if whatever it was had molted and then moved on unconcerned. He heard a few men retching nearby and shook his head. Well whatever this was, he wasn’t going to just leave it here. It was too bizarre and strange a thing to let some young kid find. He felt eyes upon him and quickly cast his gaze around, devouring the surrounding rocks with an expert eye. He thought he saw something over on the south bank…

A thud drew his eyes back to his men. “Captain, I think Eric fainted.”

With a sigh Aaron scooped up the skin gently and pulled a cloth from his saddle bags. Draping the skin inside it to preserve it he somberly began to walk back to his men who were looking at him expectantly.

“I don’t know what this is, but we are leaving. Saddle up and take my horse with you. I’ll meet you men back at the camp.”

There were several horrified glances and even a protest to taking the empty husk with them. He silenced them with a glare, and they were in the saddles in record time.

An hour or so later he made his way back to the camp without the white cloth burden..

Eve

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The course grasses that matted the ground, chaffed Eve's knees as she squatted down, hiding in the dunes as she watched...Her eyes flitted from one figure to the other..
Horses , beasts that pounded the delicate sands , and scattered the slated stone mingled there as they tore into the surf , snorting as their riders controlled them and also watched..Watched one male..

He dismounted....She raised up enough to watch him...All watching..As he stood looking down..Eva sniffed the air...She could scent that scent that was her..The her that was she in the water...and she panicked....The skin..her sin..her rug of escape that was the other part of her. She had buried it...foolishly now she knows, too close to the shore...
The tide having dissolved the soft sands and shingles, and now it is found, revealed..and held in the hands of one that could claim more than the silken softness of a gray pelt. She shivered watching him remount, trying not to make a sound...tears trickling down her cheeks silently screaming Eve's fears...

The thunder of hooves stole her other self from her..Wrapped in the warriors fabric, taken away with nothing only quiet cries of Eve pleading wordlessly as she watches..Only watching..Her heart breaks under her fears..She has heard the stories of her kind being abused by those that possess what they have no right to.
The sand feels cold beneath her bare feet as she walks slowly towards the waters edge..Blinking to focus, she spies them..Those doe eyed gentle creatures that call themselves hers and she theirs...But today , she does not even belong to herself..She belongs to a stranger.

And she screams..Wailing as Eve drops to her knees, and the barks from the surface of the water quieten, as the possessors of those sounds see what has become of one that is no longer one of them...And dive..one at a time, beneath the folds of endless forever water, abandoning her....leaving her to find what she has lost, before she can return.

~

Finding the encampment was tiring, as the wind filtered the scent of the pelt , and smothered it with the scent of many...Two days she had hidden, hungry, thirsty, and freezing...For two days she had been without sleep, afraid to stop moving, afraid to break the pace as she followed a scent that was there one minute and gone the next..Her was over as she knew it..She knew that the minute the stranger had held the pelt...Did he even know what he possessed..If he had, why hadn't he sought her out?...It gave her hope...that maybe, just maybe, she could find it, and him, before he knew the control he now wielded.

Cold had driven her to do something she'd never done..She had stolen something that was not hers...A garment for warmth..The pale color of the shift that hugged her flat stomach, and dragged a little behind her as she walked , did nothing to hide the pallor of her face..It was as dirty as she was now, after being both garment and protector against the night ...Her bare feet ached..cut on gravel, chaffed on the rough dirt of woodland floors..Further and further away from the sea the scent took her..Inland away from her hope. Terror failed to describe what she felt..Grief for a loss so great was a small word to describe the numb ache in her heart.

Eve was terrified of the sounds she didn't understand on tracking the scent down ..The mock battles that were fought by campfires , served up with a liquid that stank of rotten apples were loud and course...Drunken laughter faded each night to be followed by the gasps and feral groans of dual couplings beneath blankets that did little to conceal the ritual matings.

It was at such a time on the second night, she ventured into the camp..The night was still..the scent of her skin was lusty, and Eve wanted it back...She was starving, and left over food spilling from discarded dishes left her craving nourishment...
Both hands full of roasted potatoes and dumplings, she ate quietly as Eve hung in the shadows, weary of the armed night guards that strolled around the quietening camp...
Smoke billowed like elegant ribbons upwards, as she followed the scent of what was hers...She stood with her head tilted back, but for a second, inhaling on fragrances that were heavy with lust and danger..Fear was tinged with the need to escape this place...but she needed to find..................................

The blow to her head knocked her out cold..She didn't hear the call from the brute that had landed the butt of a saber to her head..She didn't hear the gloating structure of his crude comments as he bellowed his self praise at his find..
Nor did she hear the horn blown in the air by one of the guards alerting everyone that the encampment had been breached...That it was breached by a mere slip of a girl, who was more afraid of living in this world, than of any death that might face her.

The camp itself was organized chaos. Each cook fire was surrounded with blankets, but from a distant view it was obvious that the fires were not allowed to get too big or be too crowded, and no fire was far enough away from the next so that aid could not come quickly. This was done to prevent thieves and assassins from creeping through the camp unnoticed, but also not to leave large numbers of soldiers prone to a devastating cavalry charge, in the case of a surprise attack.

The smell of cooking fires was dwindling, and now they mostly burned wood to stave off the evening chill. Most men were slumbering, or talking, or drinking. They spoke with a rough tongue, but there was no fighting, not even when men had a disagreement over a dice game. The laws and penalties were enforced swiftly, fiercely, and without lenience.

Sentries wandered from fire to fire, while others still just stayed posted at pivotal points of access to the camp. There was a twin pair framing the tent of the captain that the young lady so eagerly sought out.

The mood of the camp had a somber feeling to it tonight. The group of armed men had not moved much since the battle two days before. Their position was far too unknown, the territory had not been scouted to the full extent, and the maps at hand were old. Not to mention rumor put an opposing force within a days ride of them. So instead of wandering, they had dug in. The camp had a lived in feeling to it, barricades, stake lines were in place. Fall away rutted paths were dug to help halt any mounted, or unwary footmen who made it into the camp. They were marked with a subtle marker known only to the army soldiers, and followers.

It was a small miracle that Eve did not fall into one of those holes and break her legs, or neck. Yet she had managed to creep far into the camp before her presence was known. While she was pilfering a bit of food one of the men near the fire had spotted her. Instead of raising the alarm he waited until she drifted to the next fire and retrieved a guard. Quick words were spoken and soon the net closed around the unsuspecting young woman.

The rough end of the pole arm struck her unprotected skull firmly, but not hard enough to do lasting damage. She would wake with a headache, and perhaps a little blood on her scalp, but nothing more. She crumpled, and the captain was pulled from his sheets as she was brought to his tent. He looked at the woman and drew in a sharp breath. She looked wan, dirty, half starved, have frozen. He felt his heart clench painfully at the sight of her. Reaching out to trace fingertips through the silken hair of her unconscious form he frowned.

The alarm was raised, but quickly the commotion died, as Aaron was already clearly dealing with the situation.

Quickly he pulled his hand back and ran it through his short brown hair. His emerald orbs glittered in the dull light of the flame. “Bring her inside!” He growled to the guards and caught one of them by the arm. “You know we don’t use unessicary force. Especially with the local villagers. Look at her! She is about to fall over from malnutrition, and you tried to take her head off with a pike. You could have just grabbed her and brought her here. Does she look like a hardened assassin to you?”

He was showing an uncharacteristic amount of emotion tonight. Thoughts were already weighing heavy upon his mind, and now this! Now he had some lowly urchin to care for because his men used too heavy a hand with her. He could already hear Myriam’s voice from within the tent. He had been in blankets, but not sleeping. He let out a heavy sigh. “Report to me tomorrow and we will talk about this. You are relieved now, it’s time for watch to change anyway.”

Nothing else offered, he spun upon his heels and strode into his tent with a will. His hand nearly ripped the canvas flap as he tore it open. Myriam was standing over the limp girl’s body, who had been deposited right where Aaron was resting, and she was flushed livid. She wheeled on the Captain and opened her mouth to spew fourth all the vile she could muster. She would not share him with another woman! She would…

He silenced her with a look as sharp as a knife edge. He pointed to the flap. His words sounded like the hiss of steel coming free of the scabbard. “Out. Don’t come back tomorrow. Just because you were not given the chance to speak the words does not mean I can’t read your mind. Irreguardless of your intent, this is an arrangement of convenience. Currently, your emotions are not convenient. Go.”

With that he turned to the slumbering form on his bed roll. The lanterns that illuminated the tent gave him a much better viewpoint than he had outside in the dark. He felt his heart lurching in his chest, trying to run away with him. His pulse pounded in his ears, and strangely, in his groin. He told himself it was because Myriam had been working hard tonight to seduce him, before she just pleasured him. He knew deep down that was not the case however. She stirred something in him, just looking at her. He turned on his heels, intent on telling one of the guards to take her away. He paused. He could not do that. A woman of her striking beauty would not last in a camp full of men far away from wives and lovers.

He let out a heavy sigh. They were good men, but they were just men. He strode slowly over toward a chest. Bending he flipped open the top of it. Rumaging around through changes of clothing, and other various objects he produced a small medical kit. He gingerly felt his way along the back of her head. He felt a lump growing where she had been struck. There wasn’t much he could do for that. Thankfully the skin had not been broken.

This close to her, he could smell her skin. He could feel the heat coming off her flesh. He felt a longing stir inside him the likes that Myriam, the plain woman that she was, could never stir. He just stared at her sleeping form. Her lips were slightly parted, soft, beckoning and so delicious looking. Just one taste could not hurt. She was asleep what would she know of it? He leaned forward….

The tent flap opened and his blade came out of his scabbard in the same motion that he leaped to his feet. The tip of his steel met levelly with the soft exposed throat of the guard whom had been chastised for being so rough with her. “S..Sorry Sir. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I got some food for the girl. Like you said she looks like she hasn’t had a meal in a while, and I was just trying to redeem myself a bit. Here, sorry.”

He handed the tray to Aaron and rubbed his throat as he walked out on his heels, feeling a slight dot of blood on his fignertips.

The captain shook his head with a chuckle and set the tray near the bed. He felt the cool air rush into the tent at the man’s departure. The breeze kissed his bare chest and shoulders, leaving a trail of goose bumps on it. He had not taken time to dawn anything more than a pair of ratty breeches that were more hole than cloth. It was clear he had given up trying to patch them, instead he had cut them off into something like a pair of shorts.

He dug around in the medical kit and closed his hand around a small stoppered vial. Pulling the stopper he wrinkled his nose. He wafted it beneath the slumbering woman’s nose. The scent was strong, extremely strong. Strong enough to pierce the darkness of her injured skull and bring her back to the world of consciousness. As he saw her eyes flutter he stoppered the vial again and put it away.

He spoke in a calm, clear, firm tone. “Good evening, Ma’am. I’m afraid you will have a bit of a headache, but I don’t think anything worse than that. Now, can you tell me why it is you desired to sneak your way into my camp in the middle of the night? You were lucky you didn’t get killed.” There was no smile on his face, his eyes were guardedly neutral. He seemed to be totally impassive as he looked down at her, though she could smell a mix of emotion on his body, seeing as her sense of smell seemed fantastically acute. He was concerned, aroused, and slightly irritated all in one.

“When you have answered my question I have some food for you, but you will not get it until I have been satisfied by your answers.”

It was rank..The smell was a foul revival that shocked her senses to awakening. At first it was all she could define, but then the pain in her head reminded her..Reminded her just as she shifted, that she didn't know what had happened, and a voice coiled around her and Eve's eyes fluttered open.

Her surroundings basic, but comfortable.. She for the first time in days , felt warm..or at least warmer than she had since this trial began..Before she sees him, she sees the lack of sky over head, and a large pillar supporting the curved arc of a tent, as its heavy canvas billowed in an evening breeze. The air was full of scents as Eva drifted towards a voice that she heard before she fully understood..

"...............desired to sneak your way into my camp ..............."

He was there..Focusing on her, as she slowly did on him, the dull ache in her head distracting at first, as she gradually could clearly see him..See the male, that was now because a twist of careless faith, her world..The one from the beach..The one whose scent bore hers too on him, in the form of his forbidden find on the shore...The one that now also, as her nostrils cleared of the awakening vapors, smelled of another..A female.
Eve shifted ..It was an uneasy discovery....That he a mate?.

Her head cleared quickly, purely out of fear of what had happened..She watched him..looked past him around the camp, back to him ,eyes flickering from him to the surroundings, searching for a reason she'd been hurt.

Outside the camp grew quiet again, apart from the muffled discussions of a few lingering..wondering..about what was to happen. The night was full of verdicts as to who she was, and why the captain had been so volatile in his claiming of the young slip of a girl. A girl that had been feather light as she'd carried into the comfort of his camp..An unusual move. But one in its generosity, brought Eve right to the very one she'd been following.

Right beside her he sat, his face peering down at her in the shadows of dimly lit domed camp. She watched his lips move around each word..; heard and understood everything..He was firm..but his tone wasn't unkind..But Eve was afraid. Afraid of him...For it was him...The one that had what made her complete.

''.............You were lucky you didn’t get killed.”

With a cautious hand, she moved pulling herself a little away from him, and slowly upright..Her head throbbed badly, but her eyes focused on him , weary and confused about one that she feared, but drew her spirit to him...
Being one of her unique kind, she appreciated that this male, this very assured male, despite the battle scares on his body was physically beautiful....Dauntingly so. And she was so uncomfortable with such an unexplored awareness, that Eve reached for a rug that was folded back from where she'd been laid down, and gathered it to her, in harmless protection.

There was no awareness in her as to how innocently lovely she looked, kneeling upright in a stolen dirty shift, her face stained and pale, clutching the warriors blanket to herself. There was no guile, no coyness, no use or knowledge how to use herself to appeal to any man for her own gain.

“When you have answered my question I have some food for you, but you will not get it until I have been satisfied by your answers.”

There was a slow understanding then of what he actually meant...She was starving..and her hunger meant nothing to him until he got what he wanted. Her right hand shook as she brought it to her lips..Lightly her fingers tapped them, shaking her head, hoping he'd understand that she had no sound....Yes it would come in time...but just not yet.

Her head hurt..and Eve flinched as she moved more, further away again from him, taking the welcoming warmth of the blanket with her as she did..Her feet had been cold, but were warming now tucked beneath her behind, and again she tried to impart her soundless response..
Parting her lips, her fingers tapped gently again there, and once more she shook her head..Her eyes; deep brown fathomless eyes, appealed that he would understand..There was simply no sound in her throat yet.....And her lips formed a silent

'' None''

as she tried to ensure he understood she couldn't speak...Her eyes flickered from him then to the dish, and Eve looked away quickly..She couldn't bare to beg..Not for food...Not when there was a greater prize that she'd give her very life for..It scent was close...but there was smoke from the fire, a crowded camp....and him...All scents vying for dominance.
Again she looked back at him..this man that now was her possessor..Did he even know, she wondered what he had taken, and what rights it granted him.?..
She tentatively pointed towards the dish, her brow raising in nervous question...Could she eat?..Would he allow her?....Would she be hurt again, from the sightless source that had struck her down.

He drew a breath as he watched her try to speak and fail. Irritation spiked in his scent for a brief moment, but was then quashed down quickly. He watched as she recoiled from him and crouched like some sort of animal in a corner, covering herself demurely with whatever was at hand. There was innocence about her, and definitely a physical appeal. Underneath the dirt, the weariness, the strain of her journey he could see a beautiful woman who had a deep, intense need. For what he couldn’t put his finger on just yet, but it was there regardless.

He felt his pulse spike and start to race as he watched her, nearly trembling with fear. Why would he suddenly be aroused by this? There was a part of him that wanted to take this miserable, dirty wretched woman in his arms and hold her, soothe her fears, and taste her lips. He was totally baffled by his urge to tell her everything would be ok. It would of course, if she just played ball a little.

He rose and strode over to the desk where the food rested. She had just tried to speak a second time and mouthed something he didn’t quite make out. Was she a mute? Or just so parched she could not speak? He pondered this thoughtfully, trying to keep his mind focused on the task. However her adept nose gave away the slowly growing…interest he had in her.

He pulled the top off the kettle that steamed happily on the bench and sniffed the contents. The tea was bitter. There was no where to get honey to spare, not on the tail edge of winter. Besides it was a needless expense in his eyes. It was plain tea however, no special flavoring. He poured a glass of the dark substance and drew in the fragrance.

Cup in hand he turned on his heels with marked military precision and crouched down near the medical kit. He pulled a small, dried green leaf from a piece of heavy cloth and crushed it up into the tea. It gave off the faint smell of something similar to tyme, though just a touch sharper. He extended her the cup with a nod of his head.

“The deal is food after questions. If you cannot talk you can nod your head at least. I do not wish to harm you, but I must do what I have to do to get information out of you. I have a lot of men who’s lives depend on information. I put something in here to help soothe your head, and help you sleep. You need both from what I can tell. If your answers are satisfactory, and do not force my hand, you will be given some clothing, and a bit of food and coin before you are sent on your way. If not… you knew the risks before you walked into my camp.”

He held out the cup and waited for her to take a sip. He did not relinquish the cup to her hands. The message was very clear. He was in control of everything here, she was at the disadvantage, and she would get everything he had to offer, or she would get nothing, dependent on how her answers pleased or displeased him.

The first question came out quickly after she had swallowed the bitter, spicy liquid. “Are you a spy for another army?”

Receiving her answer he offered another sip of the tea, and at the same time the next question fired from his lips like a crossbow bolt. Straight unwavering, emotionless. “Did you come here to take my life, or the life of any under my command?”

His scent changed as he asked the question. It wasn’t fear, or anxiety, but more like a state of readiness. Similar to that of a hunting cat crouching in tall grass, preparing to pounce upon it’s prey. If she answered wrong here, she would not live to answer another question.

Luckily for her, she answered correctly. The next question waited as he extended the cup to her, and motioned with his head for her to take it for herself. “So then you have come here seeking something. I don’t know what, and I very much doubt your going to tell me considering you are having problems speaking. That should start kicking in shortly as well. I will leave you to rest. You may sleep here tonight. I will figure something else out. You are welcome to eat now, you will need your strength.”

He started to rise, and there was commotion out front of the tent flap. A moment later Myriam came inside with a bundle of clothing in hand. It was folded rather awkwardly, and it immediately drew his attention. He was sizing it up in his mind when he took in Myriam’s face. She looked like she had been crying, but there were no tears in her eyes now. She had focus, resolve, and she looked haunted. She wore the look of a woman with nothing left to loose. The bundle in her arms trembled as she looked over Aaron. Tears threatened to spill and her words came out hoarsely.

“I can’t loose you! Not another… and not to her! She…she is the reason I am here Aaron! She’s a witch! She entranced my husband and he left me for her. She took my darling Ned! I won’t let her take you too. I have given you everything and you haven’t even looked at me twice! I see you looking at her already like you have never looked at me. NOT AGAIN!”

She turned her stormy blue eyes to Eve and her face was a mask of rage and pain. Snarling she tore the fabric away. An old, battered, rusted cross bow was in her hands. She leveled it to her chest. Her hands trembled and Aaron quickly interposed himself between the two women. Raising his hands in a calming gesture.

“Myriam, your not making any sense. She’s not a witch, she’s just a woman from one of the local villiages. I haven’t had much chance to talk to her, but from what I gather we must have killed her brother, or husband or something. You two have more in common than you realize. Now just calm down alright? You know what the punishment is for murder in my camp, and just because you have shared my bed, does not mean I will let you get away with it. Put it down!”

The last was barked as an order. Myriam flinched as if struck and she seemed to crumble on the inside. He took a step toward her and smiled. She looked at him, tears streaming freely. “she can’t have you Aaron. Your mine!” He took another step closer and she jerked the ancient weapon to the side. She struck him across the side of the head, and he staggered backward, clutching his forehead as blood starts to trickle freely from the gash left, she had struck him with the barbed end of the bolt.

He recovered quickly and took two hurried steps to put himself between the two women.

Clack. Twang

The bolt was thrown from the channel fired with terrible speed. A weapon made for the purpose of punching full plate armor, fired at such a close proximity was easily a death blow. He shifted his body with as much speed as he could, but the bolt struck him in the arm. Flesh and tendons shredded, the bolt glanced off bone, splintering pieces off. Through the soft tissue it came and into more it went. Striking his humerus was the only thing that saved his life. It glanced off his rib and punched up through muscle. The point finally stopped it’s path of destruction, the head of the weapon coated with ichor and soft tissue, poking from his muscular shoulder.

It all happened so fast, at first there was little blood. Then it was as if his body truly took stock of the situation and reacted. Blood flowed freely, and he collapsed to the ground without a word. Groaning in pain, the gravity of the wound overtook him and he was quickly thrown into darkness.

Guards filled the tent and the alarm was raised. There was no need to explain details, as Myriam was still holding the battered cross bow in her hands in stunned silence. Even when the guards put the noose around her neck, she voiced no sound at all. She just stared at the crumpled figure of the man she loved. The sentence was a mere formality as she was taken out to the nearest tree and strung up. She was quite clearly already dead on the inside.

Men filled the room quickly with medical supplies. Staunching blood flow, padding wounds with gauze cloth and flushing it with water. The captain never stirred under any of it. Until they started to remove the bolt. His body convulsed and four men had to hold him down as his eyes shot open. He gave a scream of pure agony, between gasping sobs. Once the projectile was removed, he quickly faded into blissful darkness once more.

The questions alluded her full understanding..It was, in all truth simple lack of that understanding that had Eve shake her head no, rather than admit to anything that she knew instinctively she could not have done given the short length of time she was land bound.
He was cold..And it hurt that this was the beginning of what appeared to be a time of dim hope..futile wishes...and the loss of pride...He was making a beggar out of her with questions that were unfair in their design..He was making her cower beneath the sting of his authority..There was little that Eve could imagine herself as, only that she was to be one of those pained exiles, that were bound by the whim of the one that held the pelt.

The cup burned her hands as she took it from him...She had never held something of its warmth in her hand before, and Eve lowered it to the bedding instantly, flexing her fingers, before she attempted to hold it again....Hunger drove her to take what ever he offered..
Tomorrow, do or die, she would have to find what was hers, and escape his world...Looking at him, ..his power exuding from every fiber, every muscle, every pour of his body, ...she flinched under her inner realization that he could hurt her inside her heart..
Not because of the questions....but because he.....he who was her possessor, asked them. It was an ache Eve did not care for..For it made her feel weak..Why should she have expected more from him? . She was his after all, though he didn't seem to know it, to do as he pleased..And it seemed to be his will to overpower her with the composition of his war.

To sleep...She wanted to sleep, despite the gnawing hunger that grumbled in her stomach. The liquid warmed her inside, its flavor not something she was used to, but it was at least something.....Food..She had in her silence now earned the right to eat....
But he had soured her hunger with his coldness, his manner..his lack of ........Of what? What had she expected..Had he known what she was, would have been any different..She was inclined to believe now, he simply be like those she was warned about..One that would just take what he wanted, and when.

Flames flickered wildly from the fire pit..The smoke dispersed , as the tent flap was tossed back, and a women entered..Eve, instantly without having to see her expression, or hear a word, could scent the womans fury..She was livid..Wild in her anger, riddled with contempt, and stiff with an agony that flared even further every time she looked to Eve..She spoke too fast for Eve to follow everything..But she knew exactly what was said, as soon as she'd heard 'Ned'.

He had been a ferocious warrior, but gentle soul...Eve had cared for him, in the short weeks she had known him...She had ventured on land to bask in the sun, her pelt found by rouge who had spied o those gray beauties swimming off shore...And he'd instantly sold it on to the highest bidder..Ned, had not bid, nor paid..He fought for it and Eve's freedom. In his winning, he led her to the beach to set her free, and Eve had left him to return to what ever live had been his..

But he hadn't returned..Two days later, she had played off shore with the others, and spied him..He had set up camp on the very beach he'd let her go, and had waited for her..When she left the water, and sat with him, he had simply told her, she was a breath of fresh air.
He didn't leave her for a minute for three weeks...She was free, he told her..Just to promise she'd not forget him..Eve hadn't..He had proven to be a decent man, and when he touched her, it had been only to take what Eve was ready to give..
They had never been lovers, but then perhaps they had in their own way..She had committed herself to him, and he to her.....but time had stolen that last intimate moment from them...She had almost loved him...And he, on his last breath as he died, had whispered he had loved her from the first time he'd set eyes on her..
Some one..some snake in the dark, had come and , while Eve swam with the others, had struck him down as he slept..He had held on until she'd returned, and Eve had grieved for him..But she had never known until now, that he had a woman waiting for him somewhere else.



".............just because you have shared my bed, does not mean I will let you get away with it. Put it down!”.

Somewhere in the previous seconds, Eve had clambered from the bedding, the cup cast aside, draining onto the matted flooring..She backed away, squatting down, hands covering her head, as the woman aimed a weapon at her..The Captain, actually placed himself between she and the other female, and that heart beat of action festered into something that terrified Eve , to the point an agonized found wail burst from her throat as he fell to the ground; blood seeping from a wound that colored his skin with crimson, as his face reflected the shock and the woman's stunned silence , the severity of the maddening act.

It took nothing to take the woman away, with a robe knotted around her neck...Eve was entirely ignored, as the warriors needs were tended, and his agony echoed in the tent, as the arrow was removed, his wound cleaned, the designated 'surgeon' sitting with him for the remainder of the night..Eve was never asked to move, nor told to remain...She was simply there..They looked at her..they whispered as to what to do with her, but no one dared come close to her..Her eyes hurt with tiredness, watching as the night ended and morning finally came.

~

The second day of her ...seclusion.. in the Captains tent, began with a small elderly female creature, entering carrying a clean shift and comb for Eve..She smiled a toothless smile, and bid Eve to bathe , as hulking male entered carrying an oval tub..
It was her reward. She had barely slept since the incident, sitting with the captain, tending a wound that had infected, and raised his temperature.. He had been a silent patient, and only in the small hours had the fever broken, and Eve had curled up by his side ..on the floor...to steel a couple of hours needed sleep.
Again, no one asked her a thing....It had been assumed she would be the one to take care of him, after the daily visits from the 'surgeon', and the loyal men that called to simply sit, ..talk to him as if he could hear...and watch silently as she bathed him hourly, cooling his flesh, and keeping the wound spotlessly clean.

To bathe....It almost teased her, as she stood back in the shadows, as two large vessels of water where tipped into the tub, and the old lady ushered out the men that had helped her..She snapped her fingers at Eve to undress, and left her with a sound snap of the tents flap..
Eve waited..There was voices outside, but none came close, and in moments she felt secure enough to venture closer, and peer into the tin tub, and its clear contents.

She looked ...not at all like she would have expected..Her face was pale...Eyes looked lost in sadness, and her hair was dull, dirty, and she hated to see herself as everyone else must..Her prettiness was somewhere in the worried tiredness on a face that was not structured for sorrow...It was a beautiful face, and she had always been awe, that nature gave her an appearance to be thankful for.

Her skin was alabaster pale, in the dim light of the flickering fire. Eve undressed, aware of the Captain's closeness, but at ease as in his sleep..The water was warm..the soap , scented of some wild..roses perhaps...maybe honeysuckle, and Eve slowly washed, as she knealed in the tub, the water waist high..It was pleasure to pour a jug of the clean liquid over her hair...It was heaven to scrub and cleanse her dark locks, and feel clean..feel fresh..She shifted in the water with her back to the warrior, ..sitting, her knees drawn to her chest, as she sat there, just staring into the fire, the sounds outside dimming to nothing, as she remembered better times..

When he woke, would he be as kind as the few that now looked at her, other than some stray, some dirty creature that was nothing..? Would he see her, and grant her her freedom, ...Would he want to know why Ned had vanished for a woman that hadn't earned his heart, but who had cared enough when he'd died to bury him with her bare hands, and sit by his grave until the winter storms drove her back into the water?...

Would the Captain then know what she was......and what he had. And what it meant.

Through that first terrible night, his life hung by a thread. He was a strong man, whom had a strong body. Yet even the strength of body can fail. As his life’s blood ran out through his terrible wounds his strength ebbed away. After they had removed the quill from his flesh he made no other sound. He never opened his eyes even as the fever riddled his flesh. His body was fighting a battle, and loosing ground rapidly.

Even his mind had fled to the dark recesses of his soul. Afraid of the light, afraid of remembrance. People came and went, talking to him. His second was there to visit him every few hours, to give reports as they always did, as if the captain was well enough to give his gruff appraisal, or harsh refusal. It was obvious by the reverent way the men spoke to him, the way many people wanted to visit him that the men loved this man, that despite the rigid way he held his camp, they knew he held their best interest, and that they looked up to him.

Even a few of the camp followers had come to pay respects. No others were quite as emotional as Myriam had been, but several gave the young woman who tended his wound a gentle smile and a word of advice here and there. One woman actually kissed her dirty cheek and gave her a hushed thank you. Despite the roughness in the warrior’s exterior he was well loved by nearly everyone in the camp.

The age ravaged woman came upon the second day to clean Eve up. She worked quickly and efficiently despite the age gnarled bones, and the slight hunch in her frame. The men stepped lightly around her. She smiled at Aaron like an old granny would a favorite grandson and patted his cheek. She did not leave as Eve dipped into the water, just watched the girl with an approving eye, as if she were looking at a piece of meat for the market, judging, weighing, measuring.

Just as Eve had finished running that water through her hair the aged woman scuttled forward and crouched near the tub. “You’ll do I think. The guards told me the way he looked at you.” The gnarled old hand reached out to run gentle fingers along Eve’s bare shoulder. “Skin like ‘n angel, when properly washed. “

She gave a wheezing giggle, though there was something in it, mischief that belied the older woman’s years. “The Cap’n needs you girl. Oh he has taken women to bed a plenty. Especially after the butchers work that needs doin’.. He’s been looking for something for years ya’ see. There is a hole a mild wide in ‘is soul. He lost somethin’ Somethin’ dear n’ he don’t know what to do about it. Men usually don’t know what’s best fer em. It takes a shrewd woman to show ‘im he’s bein’ a fool.”

She settled down on a stool and looked over Eve once more. “He wears a cold gruffness on ‘im like armor. That’s what it is girl. He’s protectin’ ‘imself. He takes these men out ta’ fight, and he does not leave until each one has been planted in the ground with his own hands. That man has a big heart, and he froze it. IF you find out why, he will give it to you, I’ll reckon. A woman with your natural gifts should be able to make him forget about his pain without undoin’ his trousers if you take my meanin’? Make him feel like a man again. He needs ta heal. Not just his body mind.”

Without another word the old woman slipped from the stool and headed out of the tent flap. Moments later she came back and popped her head in. “There be a chest out here. When you are done lass have these oafs bring it in. All the finest the girls in the camp have is yours to pick from. Ya need to dazzle his eyes after all..” She was gone again without giving Eve a breath to speak.

Moments later the Captain began to groan. Consciousness was still beyond his reach, but words tumbled from his lips. Whatever dream filled his mind was a terrible one. His voice was hoarse from being without much water for over a day, only what they could give a man without the ability to swallow on his own. He started to thrash in his blankets. Calling out a name as tears flooded his closed eyelids and came crashing down his cheeks. “Erica… please wake up! Please! They killed Jason, I can’t loose you too!”

His face twisted in a mask of rage, a snarl surrounded his words. “You.. you did this! Why?! Tell me! I was no threat to you. None! That’s all changed now. I will never forgive you, never forget. I will find you and have my vengeance. You may be king now, but you will never be loved by your people! I would have died for you, now I live only to end your miserable life. You have done more than take the life of my wife and son this day you bastard. You have claimed one more life… your own! I will not rest until I have collected the debt brother!”

His words were broken by strangled moans of agony, Shuddering sobs, and soul wrenching tears. Still the darkness refused to release him. It was another several moments of writhing, wordless tears, and wracking sobs. He had managed to get himself quite tangled in the sheets, and then he twisted. He drew in a sharp breath as real pain, physical agony was enough to pierce the fog that held him. His eyes shot open and he sat up quickly. Remembrance was quick and he quickly untangled himself from the sheet. Looking at the bandages that littered his left side. With a grimace he turned from the display and slowly realized he was not alone.

His eyes turned toward Eve as she sat within the tub dripping water down her alabaster flesh. He drew in a breath and his sun darkened cheeks grew darker. She was bare, not a stitch of clothing on her skin! His cheeks continued to heat as he realized that she had heard all of his dreams. What else had he said when she was near? Shame and anger mingled with embaressment. He cast his eyes away from her form and to the tend wall.

A wave of weakness rolled through him and he closed his eyes. Pain started to seep into his mind. He looked down at his body and frowned. What was he to do now? He may never hold a sword again. His vengeance, the whole reason he was still alive may have slipped through his fingers, all because of a rash decision. He flexed his good hand and sighed. He felt totally drained of everything. He just wanted to lay back into his sheets and forget the world existed.

Sag back down into the sheets he did, slowly and tenderly. His voice was soft, barely heard even in the confines of the tent. “I am sorry, I had no idea that I was not alone. I will leave you to your task.”

He closed his eyes and drew in a ragged breath, gasping with pain that lanced up through his side. He wished Myriam had been a better shot.

With the return of the old woman, and her toothless smile, came her expressed hope, or perhaps, even belief , that Eve would be good for her lord. Her language was specific , salty even,.. stinging with her honesty as she in very economic words, informed Eve that the Captain's intimate arrangements were not so intimate that the entire camp didn't know them. Eve remembered the one that had injured him..the one she had scented on his very body the first time she'd been before him....., that empty creature that had pleaded and hurled her pride at him before attacking , or attempting to attack Eve, only for him to protect her.
That she had loved him, was evident..An almost angry love born of both her desperation and jealousy..Was that Eve's future? To be placed in a situation where other women would vie for his attention, and she would watch them shame themselves over a man that didn't care?..…....Would she end up as one of them?
She swore no. The capture of her pelt insured her captivity here...her servitude to him....What he did to her, he would control .....How Eve responded mentally was under her control. He may, if he wished control every physical moment her body endured,.......but he would never , no matter how afraid she was....control what she thoughts. That is...if he ever realized what it was he had found.

''.. he is protectin' 'imself.......Eve could understand that. For she too must now protect herself from an apparent destiny that met with the old crones approval...As the older one rose, her ancient bones stiff, Eve smiled at her warmly...a first true smile... ...A chest would come..for her to chose clothing from.....Eve was touched, humbled that this woman would show her a kindness....and she wished she had more words to relay her generosity....But those she had, she kept quiet, saying nothing, only to touch her hand to her chest , bow her head to the elder woman, in a silent 'thank you' to one she now saw as possibly a friend. She hoped so..If the Captain was protecting himself beneath his indifferent exterior, ...and had a fondness for women in his bed, Eve believed if the old woman's hopes for her were to blossom, Eve would want someone to turn to......even if in silence.

His voice behind her startled Eve enough that she turned to look over her shoulder.., her body twisting to look back in reflex...Had he addressed her.? God she hoped not!

“Erica… please wake up! Please! They killed Jason, I can’t loose you too!”

For a second, Eve watched him, unsure if he was speaking to her in some delirious error...A slept agony was gripping him, as he shifted, his feet tugging beneath the rugs, revealing much of the torso she had spent bathing almost hourly for hours and hours until his fever broke...Her hands clutched the tub to rise, but something in his tone forced her to stay put...This was not a moment for a man to know his private sleeping moments were revealing much about him..
She wished she could leave...Rush outside..But such an act would draw unwanted attention to his ramblings, so Eve remained quiet...very silent, the water almost still around her but for the drips from her hair...Was it desperately wrong to find that in his sleep, he looked divine?...That even in his pain, his sleeping agony, with words that struck a cord in her heart, ..he was as beautiful a male she'd ever seen.

Slowly Eve reached to the floor for a folded rug to dry in.., leaning over the side of the tub, mindful to watch him...His words lashed some unseen foe, broken, ...hurt..truly hurt, and full of hate that ripped from him as she heard too much..was privilege too far too much...A wife...a child..his wife and child...Gone..taken from him...From this foe.....But then one word slashed the air like an invisible knife, catapulting Eve's understanding of his grief to a new level....

''…...................not rest until I have collected the debt brother!”

Brother?...She sank back on her heals in the water, looking at him, still with her back to him, to the Captain.. Pity...there was pity in her eyes...It was a companion to her silent shock, as she absorbed what he'd said....She didn't want him to waken, ...to see her looking at him, ...so Eve quickly turned entirely away.. So this was what he protected himself from?..This was what the old woman meant...This vile dream, that reflected a truth that was desperately cruel, was why he hide behind a mask of his own.
Eve bore her own mask;...it was part of her birth..her life..her entire life...and the Captain wore his because of his past..., a past that used one brother to steal from another brother, what life saw as most precious..A child..
How would it feel to love....and create from that love a little being that depended on you for everything, only to have it destroyed...killed...by a parents very own brother?

“I am sorry, I had no idea that I was not alone. I will leave you to your task.”

She had been lost in her thoughts...Totally engaged in imagining herself with a child and feeling its loss if taken from her...She had imagined the Captains loss..To want to turn to a mate, a wife, and share that grief, but unable to, because they were gone too..
She did not dare suppose she could equate understanding that depth of grief, for grief itself..But she did accept it was little wonder, he while he had been polite with her, he had also been cold, and indifferent to her fears...How do you hope to have compassion if every emotion in your body has been closed off to shield oneself against grief.?

He lay back, and she offered no word to him..no more than she did the old woman..For the simple reason, there was no word that said enough..Voice had come, she was aware, but was of yet unexplored, and would remain so until she had something to say ..It was Eve's nature..She spoke, only when addressed or had to.., and only replied when and if she had a worthy reply. It was, she had learned long ago, best that way. Voice led to questions ...Answers led to more questions.....and on her short visits on land, silence was what protected her best.

Leaving the tub, gathering the rug around her, holding it at her behind as she patted her feet dry, she bid her time , allowing the Captain the minutes of privacy as she patted her shoulders and body dry, modestly concealing pale flesh, soft curves, and the swell of her breast beneath the thick fabric. Tucking the rug around her, clasped and tucked in at her cleavage, Eve then reached for a bowl, and stooped to open a small serving dish, containing a herbal and vegetable soup, that was to be her super..It had taken some impatient grunting of disapproval from the women when her untouched food was brought back outside, for them to realize that Eve never ate meat..At sea her kind lived on fish...on land too , or vegetables, but never meat.

She never looked at him as she rounded to where he lay, and lowered to her knees..Eve blew the nourishing soup, and sipped to test it from the side...Briefly setting it aside safely, she gathered a folded skin, soft and full, and leaned across the Captain, his breath warming one soft pale shoulder, as she slipped her hand beneath his shoulders , to gently and carefully urge him up a little, for her then to tuck the fur behind him.

Taking the bowl, Eve dipped a spoon in..He'd not had more than sips of water since his injury, and she slowly brought the spoon to his lips...and quietly instructed, her voice husky in its solitary first and only word...

''Eat.''.

He had not had that dream for some time now. How long had it been? Less than half a year since the kingdom had been torn asunder by jealousy and rage. Jordan…King Jordan Aaron corrected himself within his head had been the lesser of the two brothers. Not as strong, not as smart, and in no ways a patient and kind man. He held the crown because he had two years senior on Aaron, and that was all. In every other way, Jordan was the lesser man. So Aaron was given the position of first sword to the king. To lead armies against his enemies, and to protect his brother’s life even at the cost of his own.

Aaron never had ambition for anything above what he had already attained. He wanted not the weight of a crown on his head. He had a beautiful wife, and a wonderful little boy. He wanted for nothing, except more hours in the day to spend with his wonderful family. His brother ever the jealous one coveted. He was jealous of Aaron’s family, Aaron’s looks, and his charisma. The public loved the general of the king’s armies, more than the king himself half the time. How could the public love a man with no substance, no real value, no strong moral platform? He was a self centered, fragile man. None of that had stopped Aaron from defending his brother fiercely, because he understood him. Better than anyone else. Even when the king had tried to make advances on his wife, he had let that pass.

This…this was beyond forgiveness. This was Jordan’s revenge. To strip Aaron of all things that made him happy, just so that the king would have more. That day had broken the bond of brotherly love, or at least strained it to such a degree…

That was how this army came to be. Not long after the General left the castle grounds the king started to impart heavier taxed upon the public, and the king’s guards, those who had remained and not left with Aaron, began becoming endorsed thugs, not men to respect. The kingdom was in the grips of a terrible tyrant, and there was no one to reign Jordan in, anymore. The army’s number grew by the day, men who couldn’t feed their children, who could not keep a roof patched, could not afford the metal for their forge. Their goals tied in to Aarons retribution, so what started as a small portion of the kings army, became an open rebellion. This is what his life had become. Everything he had known, been brought up to believe; gone. The only value he had left was to protect the people from evil. Jordan was evil, and he had to be put down, like any rabid dog.

He sensed movement, but lacked the energy or will to even lift his head. Darkness had seeped into his soul and taken grip, squeezing slowly the light from his eyes. He almost prayed for the assasin’s blade. He felt himself being gently raised up by soft hands, a woman’s hands. Then propped up, he looked into the face of the woman. This was the woman who’s life he had purchased at the cost of his own body. The woman who had made Myriam go insane. Myriam… He winced. He had never meant the woman any harm. She was a sweet woman, a widow he had known, not of what cause however. So this woman had either killed, or seduced away her husband. He could definitely see why. Now that she was washed clean of the dirt of her travel, she was…startlingly beautiful. Like the sort of mythical creature men dreamed would steal them away and love them forever.

”Eat.”

Words from her lips, that husky voice it shocked him. She had told him she was a mute! Surprise quickly fled from his features, replaced with disappointment. So she had lied to him. He had wanted to believe in this woman, he did not understand why, or how, but he had wanted to put faith in her. His eyes raised to her, and there was no attempt to mask it. Sadness, disappointment. Was this world full of nothing but liars, traitors, and thieves? He was beginning to think he was the only man of honor left in this world. He opened his mouth to send her away, he felt disgusted, angry, and amazingly, he felt hurt. It must have just been his raw emotions from his dream.

She was looking at him oddly. Had he spoken out in his dream? He felt anger rise up and catch in his throat. Then he let it fade. There was nothing to do about it now. If she had heard him, she had heard. Nothing to be done about it. He glanced at the food she offered and realized his open mouth might be taken for an offer to be spoon fed. He was not about to loose his dignity too! “So… you speak after all.” The words were a bare ghost of his normal voice. Ugh he needed water.

His stomach rumbled loudly. So much for sending her away without eating. He would not be spoon fed! Sitting up slowly he grimaced as he put weight on his bad arm without thinking. The world spun as pain exploded through his arm, and his side. He was on his back. Feeling bile bubbling in the back of his throat. The pain was so intense he felt like he was going to vomit. Jesus how was he still alive? His body felt worked over in a way it may never recover from. He was weak as a new born babe, and felt like a strong wind would blow him apart. That hollow gnawing in his middle was starting to become demanding. Ok.. lets try this again.

He rolled over, and for the first time let his eyes really take the girl in. She was wearing nothing more than a towel. Right, big bath tub in the center of his tent. Well this was odd. His eyes quickly raised from the valley of her cleavage to her face. Leave it to a woman to make him spend the last ounce of blood in his body waking up his neither regions. He had not reacted like that at just the sight of a woman since the first time he saw Erica dance. No, this was dangerous thinking. He would not let her memory, and a state of vulnerability make him into an idiot. Not like he was in any position to act on anything anyway. He felt half dead. He opened his mouth and gave her a nod in silence. Oh this was irritating!

The tent flap came open and the second in charge stepped into the tent. He gave a start seeing Eve hunched over the captain without much on. He had the presence of mind to spin on heels, but he did not leave. “Forgive me sir! This cannot wait. A loan scout returned from patrol. With an arrow in his side. He’s being seen to now, but the kings army Is on the move. They will be here by mid day, if not sooner.”

Aaron grunted. Half a day? That means they pushed all night. He turned to the woman and shook his head, mumbling softly. “Later, please”

“Mid day means they moved all night, which means man and horses are going to be exhausted by the time they reach our position. Jacob was never a good student. If I know him like I do, and I do… He’s got calvary riding ahead of his infantry, archers in the back. It’s how he always moves. So I want you to rouse the men, get the pikes ready, and send out our light Calvary, no lances, horse bows and swords. They are not to engage his forces head on. Harry him, push him, bite at his numbers, see if you can get his lines to break and pick them off. Do not try to meet them in the field, we want them to be exhausted and enraged by the time they get here. With as few casualties as we can manage.”

The second nodded once after the torrent of orders were relayed and pressed hand to heart and walked from the tent. The Captain turned to the young woman and sighed softly. “The fact that you can speak will have to wait for another time. I need to get what I can in my stomach and prepare.”

There were senses in an animal that are more prolific than in a human..Smell, instinct..hearing..and in some, sight. And it was no different for Eve's kind..
In Eve, it was her sense of smell that both protected and taught her how to be what she was..A beautiful woman that feared never being the docile creature of the sea again.
And it was a sense that didn't leave her when land bound. She could smell literally the mood of body...She could scent joy, confusion...and most definitely fear. Fear left a body with tightness that stung pours with a sudden dart of sweat that was heavy in its flavor..Confusion was almost akin to it..But there was a difference, and that was where perception and experience defined the differences in the musk..

This man, that lay looking at her, was not afraid..nor was he joyous , ...but he was confused about her..And he protected himself from its revelation well. The old one had said he'd known the horrors of a great pain..And he bore it like an armor to protect himself..He was, Eve believed a strong confident soul, that liked to be, not so much in control of all around him, but most certainly aware of what was happening.
He looked at her and gave away little, but for the jaded claim that she could speak. And Eve sat back on her heals a little trying to find a way to disclose to him that her speech was slight, but still only developing. Raising one hand to press one finger to her lips, she sighed as one of his men entered, and looked to her, to his Captain, and turned quickly away.

The news he brought meant very little to Eve, she understanding the words, just not the implications of them. Looking to the Captain, she could feel the leader in him asserting itself in him, despite his obvious discomfort..and the movements that hurt. Her gentler instincts would have liked to sooth him..to comfort and ease the pain, just as she would with anyone....But Eve darn't . He was not 'anyone'..He was the one that held what was hers.
And while she wished for one instinct to be honest with her, she also fought it..She was a captive to his unwitting capture..It stole her will to comfort him from her, and left Eve with a lonelier sense duty instead. And it saddened her.

The other left, obediently to carry out his Captains orders..Eve looked once more to the laying figure of a man that was both leader now, and captive to his wound.. She could imagine his frustration in his bodies weakness, as she shifted a little closer to him, careful to retain a firm clutch to the folded knot at her cleavage.

“The fact that you can speak will have to wait for another time. I need to get what I can in my stomach and prepare.”

There it was again...It almost sounded like an accusation, and Eve looked away , feeling ashamed for something she couldn't fully explain..And as a comrade to his sigh, she too sighed, and stirred the soup again, refreshing the spoon, and offered it to his lips, her condemned voice gentle.

''Eat''

One word,...the same word....And she looked at him, appealing when she really didn't want to appeal, for his understanding. She refilled the spoon, offered it again, and reached then for water bag, pouring a cup of water and held it to him .. She did not like to be seen as a deceiver, and she sat back on her knees again, and took a sip of the water too, before sitting the cup down.. Offering more of the warm tasty fish broth, she waited until she was content that enough had been eaten, before she sat the bowl down, her hands clasped on her lap.

Her eyes moved slowly over him. His torso bare to his waist, his chest firm with the tight defined muscle beneath his slender frame. He was not spoiled with bulk..Rather each muscle served a purpose that did not hunger for size, rather it strived for perfection in his frame.
He was, ..beautiful. It was little wonder the woman had been frantic when she'd seen Eve, and her mind had fashioned a hatred for her. ..It was little wonder, that the air in the tent had had a lingering scent of sex on the night she'd first nursed him..It explained even why the old woman was so protective of him. He was loved apparently by all that served under him, and Eve looked slowly to the Captain, and found it hard to believe that he would be cruel. But then the stories had come to her, about good men finding the skins of her kind, and laying claim on something they'd no right to.....Not seeing the woman within as a woman , but rather a creature to possess and own. She'd heard of the abuses..the beatings,...the terror inflicted on heart broken lives of those that never saw life again as life, but rather a lifeless existence..
Ned had proven so many wrong....But he'd won Eve's trust by bringing her pelt back....instead of holding it. Like this one. The man that wasn't even aware of what he had, ..could do with it..and the brute he could become if he abused it.

She was too afraid of the stories to trust someone again.....anyone..Even him.

Wishing words could tumble from her lips, Eve moved back a little , and prepared to rise. She wanted to tell him '' I don't lie...Don't judge me...And I want to go home now...Please. Will you let me go when you realize what you've found...Where is the other part of me? Where did you hide it...?Will you send me away not knowing who I am?..Will you understand that I can't go? She stood then and looked down at him..To conceal was to deceive...And Eve, while she protected herself proudly, the tilt to her chin almost stubborn, she was not one that could look a person in the eye, and hide. Least of all the one that held what was not his.

''Eve......I..am Eve.''

Taking the cup and the bowl, she rose, and went back to the little flicker that remained in the fire, and added a log, leaving the bowl and cup to be taken outside, and remains of what was to have been her supper..She wasn't hungry now. Not when ''“So… you speak after all” hung in the air as if it earned his distrust. Why did it matter anyway what he thought? Why did it affect her when she was there for only one reason...to find the rug that would free her.

Outside the noises of the camp came to life, and Eve became aware of her undress, and reached for one of the pale flowing dresses the old one had given her..She would help the Captain once she was respectable, before more of his men arrived...Allowing the wrap to fall from her, Eve was fully aware of her nudity in the firelight, with the wafts of fresh smoke rising upwards, as she slipped into the dress, her body bound in a soft fabric that hugged and warmed her..She tightened the bodice at her chest, tugging on the strings as she turned still looking down at the strings, as she tied them carefully.

Again outside drew her attention....and Eve's sense of smell captured the many emotions as well as the dust , the smoke, the bodies of those rushing about. There was fear...there was excitement...there was a thrill that sparked even the fear with wafting smell of pride..Scents that were melding with one another, and Eve stared at the tent flap, her fingers slowly flexing and unflexing nervously..
The words of the other soldier started to make more sense. And she went to the Captain, taking with her a heavy over shirt for him, and leather bound vest . He'd said he needed to get ready...Why? He could not fight. He could not defend himself. She reached to brush the hair back from his forehead, his skin clammy in the heat of the tent...She wondered then if the one called Myriam had been the only woman to fear losing him.., to fight for him?..
She didn't believe so, ..as she touched her fingers to his weakened shoulder gently, and whispered sadly, her words broken, ..she trying to be sure of each that voiced the ache within her.

''I . .never. . . . lie..

I don't. . . know. . how.''.

He may have not had this woman’s gift of scent, or some sort of animalistic way of reading another’s body language, but he could recognize hurt when he saw it. His words had wounded her, and rather deeply at that. Was he over reacting because of his pain? Or was it his caution? Was he pushing her away because of the way she effected him? He was not sure, but he knew when it was time to stop being an ass, and start being a man. He owed her an apology. It would come when he could look past things that were happening right now.

Right now he had to focus on eating. His stomach though empty, was resisting the idea of keeping food down. The fact that it was fish broth did not help. He had nothing against it in truth, but the pungent auroma, mingled with the smell of medicine, his own sweat, and other scents in the room just did not mesh well. He felt his stomach boiling like a cauldron and each bite took effort to keep down. When she offered him the cup he drank greedily however. His body knew it’s need for water, even if it would not acknowledge his need for food. He still felt like a week old kitten. Strength had fled from him. That did not mean he did not have a job to do.

They were about to be attacked by a larger, better supplied force. By now the rumor of what occurred had spread to every ear that would listen. Despite the fact that the man commanding the other force was not a brilliant man, sometimes numbers were the counter balance to poor tactics. He had to give his men every advantage he could, and if that meant him standing on the front lines with them, then he would do it. Even if he could not wield a weapon to save his own life.

He took as much of the soup as he could take. Then as she dipped the spoon in for the next bite he shook his head softly. Still she clung to this gloomy mood, and it was certainly doing nothing for his own.

''Eve......I..am Eve.''

She spoke brokenly, as if words were coming with difficulty? There was definitely something he was not understanding. He felt about as tall as a blade of grass. He had treated her like a criminal, and the longer he interacted with her, he was recognizing that the gentle nature she wore was no ruse.

The bathing towel was dropped without warning and he bit back a curse and his eyes opened wide. He should look away, he knew he should but he was spell bound. He had never seen a woman so beautiful. Ever. He felt shame admitting that, apologizing to the memory of his late wife. She was simply the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He never did manage to look away, even when she was fully clothed.

She turned, and he was still staring at her. There was no doubt now, that he was not seeing a criminal, he was seeing an enchanting woman whom made his pulse race, and his hands sweat. Her ned had looked upon her the same way many times. When she closed the distance to him again with his items in hand, she could clearly detect the scent of physical desire, mingled with guilt, and shame. His movements were ginger as he tried to raise his arms so she could better dress him. He winced, feeling the skin in his wounds tear, the bandages quickly turned crimson as blood flowed anew. He swore in frustration under his breath and turned his gaze to her. His eyes were dark and shadowed.

“I am sorry, for the way I have treated you, Eve. My intial assessment was based on lack of information, and I was frustrated when the men handled you so roughly, and when I could not get the information I needed to figure out your situation. I have mistreated you, and I owe you a debt. The least I can do is offer you a place here. It is not the most ideal living situation for a young, beautiful woman, but it will keep you out of the rain, and keep clothing on your back and food in your stomach. I would like to keep you in my care, until I can get you back to where you belong. Besides, you have a gentle hand, and as you can tell I’m not really in the best shape right now. My name is Aaron. My brother is the king, and I am leading an army to his door step to depose him.”

He looked to her thoughtfully as he loaded her senses with information. What would she say now, knowing he was a traitor to the crown, to his own brother? He glanced at the shirt and shook his head with a sigh. “I can’t get my arm up to get into that. Going to have to skip it. Maybe some bandages around my torso will be a descent substitute. It will keep the leather from chafing enough.”

Somewhere in the moments from her dressing to returning to aid him, Eve felt the stress change in the tent. The accusation was gone, and replaced with the difficulty of being in limbo. Helping him, she listened to him also, and found that limbo was soon replaced with something she'd not envisioned..Hope.

His name was Aaron. And he was a kings brother. A king that he was challenging for reasons she didn't fully understand. But he was talking to her. Talking to her without the question in his voice, without the sting of his quiet accusation. Aaron, a name born of the mountain, and strong.
As always, his words were softly spoken..They gave both information, an apology, and an offer.
''............I would like to keep you in my care, until I can get you back to where you belong. ..''

And that was where hope sprung. She would be safe, and in the encampment where the skin was...He would not have to know about her..Know what she was.., and Eve could search, maybe find what was hers. And then, go.
She watched him struggle with the shirt, and Eve eased it back off his shoulder for him. Her hands were soft, and very gentle on Aaron, and Eve found that her hands liked touching him. Liked the closeness that helping him ensured.

Eve did as she was bid then, in binding his chest, and tucked the errant sleeve inside before helping the Captain with his leather vest. Standing behind him, her hands slipped from his shoulders slowly down his back, before she backed away, and moved around in front of him. There was no motive behind why she found looking at him so pleasing..There was no reason she could name, that explained why she was at ease with remaining in his care..his protection. The pelt , yes, gave her the logical reason....but it did not explain that other feeling..That one that flickered its heat in her belly, and almost had her thankful he had it.

Outside the world was full of the saddling of horses, the clinking of impatient weapons, and the rising of voices instructing men. There was a distinct scent of excitement..Even in the tent it wafted in, as Eve backed away from Aaron, her hands behind her back as one of the men entered. He'd been in and sat with his Captain the first night of his fever. Eve didn't like him. He made her feel uncomfortable, and while he was civil, it was forced.

He spoke now of men being ready...This man was ready to fight. He was proud, standing aggressively challenging, but respectful of his Captain. That he respected Aaron was evident in how he looked at him..It was when he looked towards Eve, casting her a quick almost abrasive glance that she shivered and needed to look away. He excluded Eve, pointedly standing between she and Aaron and continued informing his Captain about the mens readiness, and how the perimeters of the encampment were protected.

Moving into the sloped shadow of the tent, she squatted down and folded the rugs that had tumbled from Aarons bed. The canvas billowed gently in air, and smell of pine and ferns in the woods adding their musk to the smell of the campfires smoke. It was something she loved. But it didn't quell the need, the wish, the desire to smell the sea, and its salts again. Aaron had said he would like to keep her with him, until he could get her back where she belonged. And Eve already could envision that first moment the sea lapped her skin, with the other her taking her to the oceans depths.

Looking up Aaron from her little seclusion, Eve found that yes, she was well pleased it was he that held the other part of her....and not the one that turned to leave. The one that, as he glared at her, did so while looking her over entirely, marking Eve with the sting of discomfort.
No...She didn't like this one.

A warriors horn sounded in the distance..Eve rose quickly , unsure what to do...This was completely new to her, as the other rushed out to rejoin his men.
Eve looked to the Captain as the horn peeled the air again with its woeful hail, almost haunting as it seemed to linger on the air . It was hard to tell if it was one of Aaron's mens, or................

She was a gentle creature..both on land and on sea, so the rush of adrenalin in the air was confusing and frightening..Eve rose, and went to Aaron, one word all she needed as her hands were unsure in whether to dare take his, or indeed touch him. One word, but it was profound.

''Stay.''

She seemed to either be oblivious to the fact that his raw skin had peeled open, or was quick enough to not let it show and move on. It would have caused an argument that he did not feel he had the strength to partake of just this moment. His body felt beaten and battered, as if he had been wrung through a wash pain and rolled dry, only to be boiled in oil, to start the process all over again. Perhaps stepped on by a horse in the process in there somewhere. His uninjured side was fine, but it was his injured side that worried him. He couldn’t even move his arm.

He glanced at Eve and opened his mouth to ask her to bind his arm to his side to keep him from using it, but he thought better of it. Injured or not, he might need to use that hand to save his skin. Worse than that, it would make him a target on the battle field, something he could not afford right now.

It was an odd, and uncomfortable feeling; having your own life’s blood ooze down your skin and mingle with sweat, having sweat seap into open wounds and sting them with salt. He hid the pain from his face, but his scent was a mixture of agony, determination, and the crimson fluid that pumped through his veins.

He was pleasantly surprised at how quick she was to leap at his smallest request. She seemed to be genuinely helpful. It would be a shame to put her into someone else’s service after a while. He could not let her close, and her worse than any other, there was a danger. She was young, beautiful, enchanting to look upon. Something about her mannerism was disarming, it must be the vulnerability, the innocence. He had the over powering urge to take her in his arms, curl them around her and protect her from the world and all it’s darkness. It called to the man deep inside of him. Her very presence tugged at the deep parts of his soul he had buried so long ago.

Her hands on his skin did not help his thoughts. Even as he shifted his frame to help her better wind the cloth bandage around his torso, she could feel him relax against her hands. More than that, she could detect the change in his scent. He was pleased, soothed. It was all due to her presence, and her touch.

When she helped him into the leather jerkin he was forced to focus his thoughts. The garment was tight, meant to fit his form and not hinder movement. As it was cinched around his shoulders he let out a grunt of pain. Sparks swam before his eyes as his sight dimmed. Gods how it hurt! He couldn’t hide his agony from her, not this time, it was far too intense. He started to wilt like a flower in the summer heat, but suddenly strong muscles tensed like a bow string. His swaying stilled, and his face turned crimson with the effort of retaining his grip on consciousness. His jaw was locked hard and each breath was coming hot and heavy through his nose. Eat the pain, you’ve had worse, and the men are counting on you. You can be weak later. You have a responsibility, and a job to do! Eyes that were glazed and unfocused sharpened like steel points and he drew in a slow breath. The pain had not lessoned, but he had gained mastery over it, for now.

He gave Eve a reassuring smile as she stood in front of him, fussing with something on his padded leather vest. Normally there was a chain shirt to go atop this, but he wasn’t about to press his luck, not yet. The added weight just might be more than his body could handle.

The tent flap gave aggressively and a man strode forward in sharp salute. He took everything in with eyes that never missed a detail. The Captain noticed how they focused on Eve and narrowed. He drew a slow breath. So that was one place he could not send her. They spoke briefly and with a nod of his head and another salute the man retreated out of the tent with a lingering dose of what was that? Spite? Jealousy? Lust? It was too dark in the tent for him to tell. He would have to keep Eve close. Damn it.

He made his way over to a small rack of weapons. There were blades of varying shapes, sizes, and a few shields, even a short horse bow. He selected a short, one handed blade, and a few daggers which he tucked into place along his belt. The blade was sheathed to his hip on his wounded side so he could reach across and draw it quickly. He was fussing with his belt, trying to get the balance right as best he could with one hand when he heard one word pierce the roar of a camp in ready for war.

”Stay.”

It was not the volume of the word that pierced his senses and made him look at her, it was the intensity and weight behind it. This was not a ploy, a trick to keep close to him for some nefarious means, it was an honest soul wrenching plea. What drove it? She had stayed by his side and nursed his injury when he had protected her. Was it a debt she felt she owed him? Or just that she did not want to see her hard work ruined?

He hesitated as his eyes rolled up her body, he was not looking at her lewdly, on the contrary, his eyes were very respectful. It was not that which kept him from meeting her eyes for a moment, it was fear. Fear of what he would find there, and how it would effect him. After a moment of wavering his eyes met her, and he crossed the room.

The echoing peal of the horn called out a second time and he cocked his head. It was one of his. Two short bursts meant hostile advancement. Two more followed after several heart beats. Two hours or less away. He had time to deal with this, if only he had the strength.

He reached out slowly and took her hands in his strong, calloused ones. His grip was not rough ,but surprisingly gentle. Though those hands knew how to be aggressive, they also have known how to cherish a beloved woman, and it showed in the way he touched her now. “I must go, Eve. We are about to be attacked by a much larger force. While we have our own advantages, I will not let my men pay the price for my injury. Sometimes you have to pretend you are strong, even when you are not. Those men out there are about to fight for their lives, for mine, and for yours. They are fighting for all of the people in this land. The path they are on however is of my making. We have to stop my brother from taxing people into starvation, and enforcing things with such brutality. These men fight for me, I cannot let them bear that burden alone, not while I can still stand on my own feet. Do you understand what I am saying?”

He had been the man that had found the pelt...The man, she believed to be its unwitting possessor. He had been the man that gave her shelter, and then placed himself between her and the angry grief of the woman that had eventually wounded him.
He had been the man, whose body she'd admired as Eve had nursed him...She had not been blind, or unaffected by how her hands seemed to seek and enjoy the little touches that were to sooth and comfort him.

He had, to Eve, been needed, until she could find her skin...That silken mask that was the completion of her very being.
He had been respected by her because of his kindness, but he had been no more than the reason she had to stay, until she found what was her, and escaped.

He had been all of that, and no more .................until he took her hand.

Eve had no thought of shying away as Aaron made his explanation of why he had to go, just to her. He did not laud it for others to hear outside,.. he did not disrespect the fear she showed quietly in her asking him to remain. He allowed it to be, and simply gave Eve the minute that changed everything. There was an air of honor about Aaron, in his loyalty to his men. It was little wonder they looked at him the way they did. He was not a master of his forces..he was their leader. He was not their dictator, he was their guide.

The touch to her hand, the words spoken, the time given left Eve staring up at Aaron, and for the first time since she'd arrived, she trusted him. It was a strange feeling to know no fear of him, but also have no trust.
Its discovery, its unfolding, its revelation was a little startling, but Eve just nodded her head a little, understanding why pretenses were needed ..
She too would pretend then. Pretend that she was not troubled by Aaron's leaving. She would pretend that she was at ease with his departure, and trust in his return. She would pretend too however, that on his return, she would be unmoved, ...not joyous, ..not relieved..not warmed. He had no right to claim that stirring in her. Unless of course Aaron grew to know what had in his possession and he could claim what he wanted.. Don't let him know...By the gods I pray, he will never know. Why pray that? Because she did not want this man soiled by the effects of a power that robbed men of their decency.

Outside, the world seemed to come alive in the snorting of horses, and the arrival of Aaron's mount.. The canvas flap was flung back, and no ceremony was spared as Eve pulled her hand back embarrassed to be found gazing up at the Captain. The one that entered was empowered with the aggression of pending battle...the smell of death and the bodies to be slain driving his forceful stance into the camp where he proudly proclaimed the Captains men ready!.

And horn wailed in the distance.. The mournful almost beautiful puffed boned pipe eliciting a cheer from the warriors as again the horses snorted and drove their hooves into the dirt, clawing hungrily for speed. Campfires were billowing smoke up through the canopy of trees, birds scattering from their shelters as emboldened soldiers swung up into their saddles, the leather creaking, as they shifted their weight, and their weapons were secured.

The flap was again tossed aside, and the one from earlier entered, and once again paused briefly to look at Eve who backed into the shadows, as his jaw twitched and his eyes narrowed before looking away from her to snarl, '' They draw closer M'lord. Two scouts have ridden out of their front line, and one is riding hard towards us a days ride away. ''

He bowed..backed out, his massive shoulders strapped with leather and the quiver of a giant bow across his back, ...and once more he glared at Eve. Was it hate? She believed so..but why...? Was it more than hate?...He frightened her as his scent forced itself on Eve, and she looked away as the range of powerful implications wafted to her nostrils.

Quickly Eve looked to Aaron..She tried to smile....just to ease his departure..but it failed, and she in her regret stepped forward to him, the other warrior moving back watching her. Yes..She would pretend also.
Pretend it didn't worry her he would not return...Pretend she didn't feel the fear in the pit of her belly, that if Aaron didn't come back, and lost his life, her pelt was forever gone to her.
She would pretend not to hope he come back for that reason, and that reason only..She would pretend she didn't notice the chance in her own being, when he'd taken her hand in his, and the chaffed skin felt sublimely beautiful against her soft palm.

Resting her hand on his side desperately gently, Eve raised up on her tiptoes and whispered to Aaron for his ears only.

''Make...haste.''

And she lay her hand over the hilt of his sword, and looked down at the weapon that she assumed knew much death, and whispered quietly.

''Make haste ...M'lord''

He was not sure what he had expected when he had taken her hands. Fear, revulsion, anger? What he got was a visible softening of this woman before him. She had held herself at a respectful distance from him for the most part for the duration of his waking hours. Yet now he could see a change in her. He was not sure why or what had changed her perception of him, but it was very clear something he had done managed just that.

Her nod seemed hesitant, as she accepted his words. Clearly she understood his need to pretend to his men that he was fit and hale. He could also sense the fact that she did not like it. He could read the struggle in the tightness of her eyes. She was putting on a brave face and he could not help but smile. He started to reach up to cup her chin in his hand when the flap of the tent rolled back.

A man no older than his 19th year announced that his mount, and men were ready. The man nearly bounced on the balls of his feet with the excitement of impending battle. Most of the men bore that nervous, adrenaline fueled energy. It was only those who bore the burden of leadership who remained calm, because they knew they would have to ask men to give up their lives today. As the two stood staring at one another, she could smell the regret and the sadness on him. He could already feel the burden of death upon him.

The call of the horns were closer now. The men reacted to the call, roaring a challenge of their own, working themselves up, preparing themselves mentally, physically for the life or death struggle that awaited them. Some would not survive the coming dance, but with luck, more would, than would not.

The tent flap opened once more and his second stepped into the tend. Again his eyes burned upon Eve with some sort of hatred. He spoke words curtly and the captain raised a brow. “A day’s ride? Why am I getting conflicting reports? Our scouts said half a day earlier. Figure out what’s going on, I will not lead these men into a fog. Next time you are in my tent, you will not stare at anyone, are we clear, Eric?”

The captains mood turned sour as he glared at Eric’s back. What in the hell was the man’s problem? The woman had done nothing to him. He had the urge to punch the man square in the eye. His face was a thunderhead.

He turned to Eve and it all melted away. He stared into her eyes and all thoughts of anger were gone. She was vulnerable and struggling to wear that smile. It failed and she closed the distance between them. He found himself holding onto his breath as his heart leaped in his chest. With her acute sense of smell she could catch the scent of his sudden attraction to her. The only outward sign that he gave was the tell tale quiver of his bottom lip as his eyes met her own briefly. Swallowing hard as she pressed her hand to his skin and leaned in close. His eyes closed and his lips parted softly in surprise, his scent spiked with desire, anticipation, and shock.

Her voice caressed his ear, and goose bumps trailed down the length of his neck slowly, disappearing into his garments. He felt her other hand settle onto the pommel of his blade. She repeated her words again and added an honorific. He felt his cheeks darken as his mind tried to wander.

His scent slowly changed as she drew back, and he managed to compose himself. He was all calm cool collection again. Reaching out to take her hand in his own once more, he brought it to his lips, kissing the back of her hand gently. Murmuring to her in a warmer tone than she had heard him use before. “I shall, My Lady. I will have someone sent here to lead you to where those who cannot take up a blade are taken during battle. I will see you when this has all come and gone.”

He smiled at her, and there was no denying the warmth in his features. She had made an impact upon him today, and he could neither explain it, or defy it. When he turned upon his heels and pushed the tent flap aside there was an energy and a life in his step that had not been there before.

So she was left to her own devices as the man she had seen so briefly went into hiding, and the captain was in control once more. The tent flap devoured his body as he stepped out into the cool morning air. A flurry of men were waiting for him with reports and information, he devoured it all quickly and nodded. Passing orders to each man individually they all darted off in different direction. The camp exploded into organized chaos. He mounted his horse slowly and carefully with no small amount of pain.

Leading his horse off toward the line of pikes he turned his head to look back at the tent, hoping for a final glimpse of Eve before he had to be awash in blood, death and carnage. A ray of hope to wield against the coming darkness. He saw a young woman pop her head into the tent and lead Eve out and away from it, toward the knot of reserve soldiers, and the camp followers. She would be safe there… safer than anyone else. With that done he turned his attention to the coming storm.

It was an uneasy moment in seeing the Captain leave. Part of her was adrift on the fear he'd not be back, and she would never know her freedom again........But then there was the part of Eve, that knew a loss it had never known before. She's sampled pain in losing Ned as she had..But this was different. This cut at a part of her that was virginal in its emotional realms. She had no clue..no notion of how read this ...this feeling.
It did not sit well with her to feel so exposed. But there was something in his presence that drew her to him..There was something in how even when weak he was a king amongst his men..
There was an instinct in her that came to life when he looked at Eve, and she it pleased a feminine vanity in her that she felt he was afflicted with the same bitter sting of a feeling she should run from, instead of running to.

The flap fell closed, robbing her of the last glimpse of Aaron. It stole him into the last of the day light and the sounds of excited metal striking metal, and the clatter of hooves dancing to race and chase battles. A girl came, sent by the old one, and she guided Eve out into the encampment for the first time since her arrival. There was too much addictive power in the air for her to be noticed, as she was taken by the hand into the gathering hoard of women and youngsters who mimicked the warriors, waving their miniature weapons proudly.
She was lost in the folds of moving bodies as they hurried to the safety of the deep woods, and a deceptive cave hidden behind an entrance no bigger than the flap of one of their tents. Inside they waited. Everyone had carried provisions, the children taken into the back where their noise was muffled with the distance of underground spaces, and the women set about making the time normal.

Pots soon bubbled on the three campfires that were allowed close to the entrance until the stews were reheated, and fires quenched..Bed rolls were unrolled, families huddled together, and stories were shared about other times like this.
Eve listened, and learned of loyalties Aaron had earned. She learned of the brother that had murdered his brothers wife and child, and felt the cold horror for a grief no man should know. She felt she had spied on Aaron in hearing so much about him.. It was not offered as gossip..but rather as a means of letting her know what he'd survived and what drove him to banish a king that was not a king at all.

The night came with a longing to be back in his tent. It would have been her fourth night there, knowing his stirrings, tending him, ..listening to the mumblings in his sleep that had confused her until the women told her enough to understand. She thought of her ocean, and the family that would soon give up on her as the feeding grounds would need changing.
How had she been so careless not to conceal her mask better? She had been found once, because of stupidity, only to be freed by Ned. To have failed again, hurt. The rock bed beneath the shore's edge had let her down. It had spilled up its harvest on to the beach for Aaron to find, and now possess.

It was not his possession of her skin that intrigued her however. It was the man behind the strength of his convictions, and the gentle hand offered to her when he'd seen she was no threat. There was a 'something' about him that inspired the ache in the pit of her belly, and stole the calm from her breath. She sat with her back against the cave wall staring towards the small cave mouth, wrapped in a fur provided by the old one, who now slept in a wheezing crumpled ball by her side.

The women had been very giving. They seemed to know something she didn't. While she helped as she could, Eve was not expected to.. It was her own insistence to be included in the chores that perhaps brought about their companionship and the story of Aaron.
Was his heart yet healed? Was the pain of such a huge loss dulled enough that he might not take what was not his to take in her.., but rather dare tempt it from her with the stirring quietness and depth of his own masculinity she'd already felt in him? What she was thinking of surprised her, but yet it didn't. If she had to stay, would it not be better to stay because she wanted to, rather than because he had the power to make her.?
Would she want to stay?. The answer was too entangled with her worries to be certain.
Was he alright? Were his men all lost in a war that brother led on brother? What if he was gone...? What if his life was ended at the battles fore? What if he was gone for all time, and Eve would never know if she'd have stayed with him. Would Arron have wanted her to. Her head began to hurt. She was jaded tired, but sleep was denied her because of questions she had no right to think or ask. Why would such a man want a creature like her? Why would such a creature like her dare think she was the kind of woman a man like Aaron would need.

~

Morning came with the old one gently shaking Eve's shoulder. She smiled her tootless smile, her face older in the shadows of the cave. ''MaryAnne of Olan fix't ye some blueberry pancakes. We be movin' on te' hour. Eat''
It had taken Eve the early part of yesterdays time here to understand MaryAnne of Olan was Olan's wife. That Lillia of Bernard , was Bernard's wife and so on. She ate, rolling the thick pancake in the blueberry juice, and ate well. She was hungry, having forgo-ed the evening meal last evening. Sipping on a mug of hot milky coffee, Eve smiled as the old one returned. '' Aye, them's be comin' back 'ome''.

''Is the Ca...is...Are they safe''?

And the old woman looked at Eve, one eye almost closed entirely, as she chewed on something that stained her remaining teeth. She saw too much. Eve didn't like that the decrepit old crone read her and she looked away breaking eye contact.

''I'll be ready''.

Again the old woman watched Eve, having said nothing. Turning her head to one side, she spit the tary chewed substance from her mouth, and then looked back to Eve who sat with her head lowered.''Aye....Rider says we lost som'. He de'na say who be dead nor livin'.''

Eve rose quickly, brushed her dress down, and grabbed the fur rug to fold it.

''I'm ready.. ''

The old one walked away, casting one look over her shoulder at Eve...She smiled a knowing smile, and nodded to Eve, before being swallowed into the moving body of women and children, with the guards barking out their instructions, watchful of keeping everyone together for the trek back to the encampment. The walk felt shorter on the way back.
By mid day, the sun was high, and first arrivals were already lighting up the firepits, and the animals were fed. Getting everyone inside the spiked boundary of the camp, everyone soon found their place again.

Eve went back to the Captains camp to leave the fur cloak that was now hers inside, when the first horns blared in the distance. Instantly the camp came to a standing hush, until the second was heard identifying the returning warriors. No one cheered..no one raced forward. Returning warriors brought with them celebrations, but only after the dead were revered first..Who was to come back and who was not was a question Eve didn't want to know. She didn't want to leave the tent and join the others..Anyway she had no right to..She was not Eve of Anyone. She didn't want to search for the Captain on horse back, and not find him. She didn't want to answer the ache in her chest, and the sickeningly tight nervous sensation in her stomach.

No...She would stay where she was, and just be Eve, the one that wondered into the camp, and deny herself the wonder of seeing Aaron ride in.....or the hurt of not.

The reins of his mount itched in his grip. The desire to ride out to meet the outrunners, to get the information first hand was overwhelming. This was the worst part of battle. It was not the chaos, the blood, the dying. That was all just a matter of course, even when the battles changed that was always the same. It was this waiting for information to adjust the movements of his troops. The fog of war it was called, it felt more like needles under the scalp.

His mount caught his irritation and started to dance. He patted the horses flank and murmured a soothing word. He slowly shifted from his mount and settled onto his own feet. Instantly he realized what a mistake that had been. He felt bone tired and he had not even wielded his blade yet. Perhaps it would not come to that, perhaps the perimeter defenses could hold. He wasn’t placing any hope in it though. No use wasting the little energy he had wishing for something that was impossible.

He began going over the plan with those on the pike lines. They looked confused at first, but then they nodded in understanding. Hands were quick as they lathered the picket line with a thin layer of tar, and deftly hid larger resivoirs along holes that had already been prepared. Several of the tents would be casualties today, but hopefully lives could be spared that would otherwise be lost holding the pike line.

He drew a breath. The smell of tar and oil was heavy in the air. It hid the scent of sweat, excitement, and fear. How much of today would be remembered? What of those who fell to the blade? Would he be crushed under the weight of a better equipped, better manned force? Had he led these men to their deaths? He swallowed heavily and forced despair away. He had to keep a clear head if there was to be any hope.

Something tickled the side of his face and he turned his head to swat away whatever it was. He froze like a deer in headlights. Several strands of Eve’s hair had fallen from her, and mingled into the knit of his leather jerkin. Sometimes fate, or gods, or whatever it was that played havoc with the life of men had a way of twisting things until you could only look upon them and laugh. Laugh he did! Unwinding the locks of hair, he tied them reverently around the pommel of his blade. Perhaps it was a passing fancy that it would bring him strength? Yet he felt energy course through his weary body. Sometimes women really had no idea what effect they truly had upon a man.

A single horn blast sounded and his eyes cast to the horizon. His men were riding in, and hard. He could see dust clouds before he could see horses. Then horses and men came into view. The sky was periodically darkened as the men turned on their mounts to send shafts of death upon the advancing enemy. This was it, it was time.

He tested the wind and nodded slowly. This would work. He watched the horsemen ride into bowshot range and he counted to twenty. Then he turned his head. Drawing in a deep breath his strong voice carried as he barked the order. “Archers! Prepare volley!”

Men lined up behind the pikes with arrows already knocked raised their arms. The captain gasped air into his lungs and coughed violently. It felt like fire was exploding through body. Had stitches just come loose? Black flecks swam before his eyes as the coughing ran it’s course. Hunched over on the flank of his horse he wiped at his mouth. Blood smeared across the back of his hand. He grimaced and quickly wiped it on his tabard. If things did not go well it would not matter anyway.

Instead of verbally giving the command he raised his hand, he counted another five seconds and then dropped his hand. In near unison a thousand bow strings snapped wildly. Shafts of razor death arced up into the air. The day was warm, and the heat rising from the earth created a wonderful headwind. Just as the Captain had hoped for, the arrows caught the wind and sailed well farther than the average bow shot could unaided. It sailed over the shattered line of his own Calvary. The screams of surprised men, and dying horses filled the air as the king’s horsemen rode into a cloud of death. He could see the line of Calvary stretched wide with lances couched. He could read the frustration and anger in their faces. They had been suffering losses the last 5 miles without being able to deal hardly anything in return. They had come prepared for a traditional battle, not hit and run tactics of a rebel commander who was between a rock and a hard place.

He saw them draw reign at the signal of the commander. Smirking as he watched the other man assess the damage he made a signal with his hand and the archers dropped their bows a few inches and then released another volley. This man was slow witted. He had just given away any hint of advantage those lances and horses had offered him by stopping his momentum. Another hailstorm of death exploded among their ranks and men and horses died.

This time he waved his hand in a slow circle giving the signal for the men to fire at will and arrows rained steady. Most of these men had been serving with him for a while, and had the best training money had been able to buy when the king’s brother was still in charge of the royal armies. Now those expertise were being used against the royal army.

The captain watched as more arrows fell among the Calvary and he shook his head. He saw one catch their commanding officer and he muttered under his breath. “Good riddance, you were not worth all of that shiny armor you were wearing, son.” He felt hope swell within his chest. Just maybe they did have a chance to pull this off. Already his own Calvary were being fitted with lances and prepared to cover their flanks when the next phase of the plan came to pass.

The remaining Calvary broke and peeled away. For a moment there was silence and Aaron allowed himself a brief moment to lean against one of the stakes and just relax. Gods above he was tired. It was then that he realized that the silence had been broken. He saw infantry picking their way through the dead horses and men.

Several short horn blasts erupted from the enemy lines and the infantry formed rank. Two ranks to be exact. Aaron watched as a division of the infantry broke off and started to advance. He swore under his breath quietly. He had hoped Jacob would commit all of his infantry to the first charge. No time for regret now. Any advantage the pike lines had given them against horse, was now gone. He knew it was time to move to the next phase of the plan. Without a full commitment, there would be many more casualties on his side today, than if Jacob had committed all of his infantry.

The enemy line started a slow advance, and arrows rained from Aarons Archers, falling among flesh, bone, and steel. It was like trying to stop a tidal wave by throwing grains of sand into it. Each time a gap was created by fallen men, more simply filled the gap and the rush came onward. A barked command and the archers were among the pikemen. They were no longer firing arcs into the air, but firing directly into the ranks of the rushing wave of humanity.

Onward men came, the sound of their feet upon the trodden earth, the jingle of mail, plate, and bones blotted out most sound. Aaron signaled a bannerman and he gave three shrill blasts of the horn. His own men formed rank but quickly began to fall back and give ground to the charging behemoth before them. They kept tight rank and good order. Archers even found the opportunity to continue to pepper their rushing forces with arrows.

He knew his men would do their job, he had no concern about that. His eyes were fastened to the picket line, straining to see the first footsteps cross that all important boundary. Three hundred feet.. two hundry.. one hundred.. Now!

He mad a chopping gesture with his hand and a long low note reverberated from the sound of the horn. The infantry set their feet and brandished spears at the ready. They put themselves in front of the archers forming a wall of flesh and steel between themselves and the longbows. A small group of men came running from behind tents with lit torches. Handling specially prepared arrows to the archers whom knocked them quickly and waited calmly for the torchmen to light the tallow and linen covered missles. Aaron drew the short blade from his side and turned to his men. Raising the blade high into the air he took one final look at the men he was about to send into chaos and death. Then he dropped his arm and the blade sliced air as if it were flesh.

Arrows of fire streaked from the longbowmen and screamed from bowstrings and arced into the air. Weighed down by their payload the arrows distance was much shorter and barely touched three ranks deep. However that was not their goal. Many of the arrows simply found purchase on the wooden stakes made to prevent a Calvary charge, or struck the ground which had been carefully treated with oil and tar. Flames began to race along the treated area. He could hear the retreat blasts being sounded by the infantry commander, but it was too late now.

Explosions filled the air as the reservoirs of oil exploded into the air, shooting flaming oil into the air. For a moment the sky itself seemed to rain fire and death. Smoke darkened the field of battle and another series of short horn blasts signaled the archers to again step forward and loose arrows into the smoke and flame. They were fired directly into the darkness. It was an eerie sensation to fire them into a curtain of black and orange and not hear them strike home.

The smoke began to clear as the wind picked up. The flames were spreading out toward the ranks of the royal army slowly, but they were fueled only by the wind and natural mechanics of fire. The Captain called for his horse and mounted up slowly. He wanted the extra height to see past the billowing smoke and flame. Peering over the carnage he saw something he had not expected. A peace banner being waved from the enemy lines, and he saw a small group of men break away from the group. Parlay?

A little shocked he turned and exchanged few words and soon men were mounting horses ready to follow him. His own banner of peace raised. There was an uneasy muttering among his men as he passed their ranks and rode into the open field. Even they did not believe that it was really over.

The two parties met and the Captain raised hand to heart in salute of respect. The other man returned it, but sluggishly as if half hearted. Forgoing the usual courtesies the man known as Jacob immediately attempted to dominate the conversation with harsh words.

“So, as crafty as ever Aaron. It appears your downfall has not dulled your skills any. You are still just as skilled at killing peasants as you ever were. How is the wife and the boy then? … oh right I forgot. Shall we get down to business then? There is no need for this to continue lets just have your surrender now and we can all be on our way.”

Aaron stared silently at his former comrade and the rage was clear in his features. His cheeks burning an ugly crimson but he maintained his silence. Color returned to normal and he parted his lips to speak. “Always a pleasure, My Lord. I am afraid I am unable to offer a surrender at this time. However I am perfectly willing to accept your own. Our terms will be fair of course.”

Jacob laughed a vile laugh and shook his head. Wiping his eyes as if to remove tears. “Honestly, you never cease to surprise me. Here I was hoping we could settle this peacefully. You were always known as a diplomat. Suddenly you have put on two new coats. Rebel and warmonger. They do not suit you, Aaron. The king has revoked your lordship, and denounced you. I’m sure you know that. However I am of a mind that a man cannot be stripped of lordship. You are born with it, or you earn it, either way it is yours. So I will extend you a rare honor and solve this matter in one stroke. Single combat, you and myself. The man who wins dictates the terms for the other armies surrender. The looser retains his dignity in death.”

Aaron’s hand tensed upon the cantle of his saddle. This played right into Jacob’s hands. Clearly there was a spy, or a loose tongue in his camp. He drew a breath. A chance to settle this with just one more death, he could not pass up that chance. His forces mirrored his own physical state. “Agreed under one condition. If I loose my men are to disarm and disperse, they are not to be imprisoned or punished. They followed me, I am the traitor. They just follow their Captain.”

Jacob raised his hands as if warding off a blow and shook his head. “Now Aaron, you know I cannot make promises in the name of the king. He will decide their final fate. I can however offer you my word that I will let them go for now, and that I shall rally for their freedom in your place.”

Grimacing he let out a sigh of resignation. He really could not ask for anything else. That was the best he could hope for. He would just have to win then. He knew Jacob was the sort to give with one hand, and stab with a knife with the other. “Fair enough. Let us both have witnesses from our own ranks then. A trial by combat must be witness as fair.”

A rider left from either escort and rode back to the ranks of men sitting in wait. Soon enough a large number of bodies from both armies were marching forward with grim determination on their features.

The Captain accepted the help of his neighbor as he dismounted from his horse. The man stepped close and asked softly. “Sir.. your injured and he knows it. This is why he made the challenge. He is setting you up for failure. I know you know this, so why are you insisting on this madness? This is a death sentence!” The last words were hissed quietly.

Aaron shook his head with a faint smile. “Of course it is. Remember what your mother always told you however. Gossip is a flimsy thing to build truth upon. More than likely he thinks I’m near death. I will let him think that. It will give me the upper hand in the end.”

He stumbled forward and grimaced. If that was acting it was flawless. He drew his blade quickly and ground the tip into the soft earth to give himself support to keep from falling onto his knees. He bit back a soft groan, lips compressed tightly. He raised his eyes to Jacob and nodded his head in ready.

“This is so much more preferable to slaughtering peasants, wouldn’t you say Aaron? Two men settling their differences with honor in a beautiful, graceful dance of steel and death. Shall we show the rabble how it is done my old friend?” Jacob said with a wry twist of his mouth, his victory already assured within his mind.

Aaron could not help but chuckle and give a nod. Standing up straighter than before he focused his gaze upon Jacob. The blade was pulled from the earth and leveled at a hard angle as if thrusting to the feet of his opponent. He spoke softly “At least one man who deserves the term peasant will die this day.” Lunging forward the blade came straight up, intend on severing Jacob at the groin.

The blow was sloppy and slow and Jacob batted it aside, though not easily. Clearly he did not expect an attack so quickly, especially out of a defensive stance. He took a step back and smiled. “So eager… that is not like you either. You must be as injured as they say hmmm? I shall end your suffering quickly, old friend.”

Jacob drew back for a stroke, but had to adjust as the captain came in again with a hard thrust to the abdomen. Drawing his own blade in a wide arc he deflected the blow again with a curse. He followed the parry with a twist of his foot. Stepping forward to strike the Captain square in the abdomen.

With a groan of agony the Captain collapsed to his knees, but managed to have the presence of mind to backpedal in the process. Jacobs blade flashed like lightning. Striking just where the Captain’s head had been. Out of sheer desperation the Captain swung forward wildly. Striking out in wide arcs to keep the other man at bay. His knee’s wobbled as he got to his feet.

Sucking in air greedily he could already feel blood rushing down his side. He had to end this fight, and quickly. He locked his eyes upon Jacob and let his blade hang at his side. His free hand wrapping around his midsection to stall the flow of blood, but at the same time he fingered one of the daggers sheathed, hidden within the padding of his armor. He saw Jacob move in for the killing stroke.

Drawing a deep breath he lunged forward one final time. He thrust his blade low at Jacobs legs. He felt the metal meet metal as Jacob barely parried. He had not expected the sudden rush and that worked to the Captain’s advantage. Stepping into the other man Aaron lifted his leg and drove his knee hard into Jacobs mid section. The man doubled over with a grunt and Aaron lifted his blade high. Bringing the weapon down pommel first on the back of Jacobs skull the bigger man crumpled to the ground. Stepping hard on his hand Aaron could hear knuckles break as he released his weapon.

Kicking the blade away Aaron leveled the point of his sword at Jacobs throat and spoke in a voice strained with agony. “You lose, old friend. However I will not claim your life, there has been enough death today.” He could see Jacobs face relax for a moment, before he spoke again. “Besides, you have not earned an honorable death. Go back to the king, and explain to him that the reason you have not destroyed us is because you gambled with a peasant, and you lost.”

Cheers went up from the numbers of Aarons numbers. Jacobs own men stared upon the scene with shock. No doubt assured of their officers victory over a wounded man. Jacob himself had not moved, aside from staring up at Aaron with glittering hatred in his face. He spoke, and his voice was quiet, and lethal. “Your terms, then?”

Aaron nodded his head wearily. His limbs felt like they were encased in amber. His gaze rose to the skyline. Had it already been the most of the day? The sun was already peering from beyond the horizon. It would be dark in an hour. He drew a deep breath and grimaced as pain shot through his rib cage. The pain brought him back to the task at hand. He spoke again, louder than before so the men behind Jacob could hear. “Tonight tend to your wounded, bury your dead. However tomorrow you are all to make for the straightest, most direct course back to the castle, do not take up arms against us again. Any who wish to join our ranks are welcome, but know that what you fight for is the freedom of this land from the tyrannical leadership of my brother, and thus in joining me, you will become a traitor to the crown. At least until it changes hands. Remember history, there is a fine line between traitor and hero, usually it is defined by who writes the books. Now go back to your camp and tend to yours.”

With that he turned his back and walked away from Jacob and his men.

Jacob rose with rage turning his face an ugly crimson shade. With a wordless snarl he started to stalk back to his camp. Then his eye caught a man holding a loaded crossbow at his side. Reaching out, he seized the weapon in hand. Turning back toward Aaron’s retreating figure he took aim.

“Captain!” A voice from the crowd called. Aaron spun upon his heels and his instincts took over. The hidden blade he had contemplated using during the battle was pulled free. It flew from his fingertips quicker than lightning. The blade twisted in the air and struck Jacob square in the throat. There was a rush of blood as he drew a gurgling breath. The crossbow dropped from his hands forgotten as he clawed at the blade as if he could stave off death. His eyes glossing over he slumped to the earth as his heart beat it’s last struggling time.

“This is the honor of the men you follow, this is the honor of the nobles whom take your taxes. This is the respect you “Peasants” receive from them. My men and I fight to give all men honor and dignity, even if you are not a rich man.”

Aaron turned and his men parted to let him pass, then turned to follow him. He made it as far as the front lines of his own men before he sagged and lost the ability to stand. He sagged against the nearest man as he finally lost consciousness.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The evening passed without the Captain even stirring as they tended the freshly opened wound. He slept soundly and heavily. When the morning sun peeked through his tent flats he stirred and awoke to pain. His body was extremely tender from exerting himself the day before.

He took a few steps out of his tent and gave a broad smile. He saw men wearing uniforms of the royal guard mingling with men who had no uniforms to wear. Many were friends, neighbors, even relatives. He had dealt a major blow to his brother today, a portent of things to come in his estimation.

A man he did not recognize waited for him to leave the tent, then he put hand to heart in salute. He was wearing a royal guard uniform. “Good morning my lord, we heard that you normally see to the burial of your fallen personally, but you were wounded, so we saw to it in your stead, I hope you do not mind.”

Aaron couldn’t help but nod his head and smile brighter. “That’s just fine my boy, thank you. I’m getting a little old for shovel work anyway. Go get yourself some breakfast son, the women will be back soon.”

Not long afterward the men had made their way back to the main body of the camp where the women and children stood waiting. There was laughter from some, tears from others, and others wearing sorrow like a shroud. They had suffered casualties, but not nearly on the scale of the royal army. The Captain made his way to a high point in the camp and raised his voice high as he could manage. “we have struck a great blow today to our enemy. The ranks of many of theirs have willingly come to join our number. Those who have fallen have paid the ultimate price, but through their payment, they have given their strength to our cause. Now we turn his weapons against him. Welcome these men as you would brothers, for most of them never even drew steel against us. The battle was decided with most of the losses on their side. If they can find it in their hearts to come to us, we must find the courage to welcome them.” He said no more, he looked around the camp as his words were absorbed by the crowd.

Stepping down he made his way wearily toward his own tent and reached out to part the tent slowly with his hand. Peering into the confines of the tent his eyes drank her in slowly and he couldn’t help but smile. “I told you I would return….” And with that he stepped into the tent and let the flap close.

Why strike her ?!!

Ned's voice had rung out over the small gathering crowd, as the one that had claimed Eve's pelt hit her with the back of his hand across her mouth..Hard enough that the sting from his blow rose up through the nerves of her nose to her eye, leaving it watering . She'd fallen, was ashamed of her plight and kept her head lowered. There was a scuffle as Ned broke through the group, pushing his huge form to the front, and grabbed the owner of the pelt by the arm and swung him around to face Ned.

''She's 'alf your size ...How 'bout you hit me 'nd see if you knock me doone.?.

Ned flung him from him, and strode forward, pulling Eve upright, none too gently, but when his fingers tilted her head upright for him to check her lip, his touch had been kind.

''You got no right to touch her...She be mine now..Look!..''

And He raised Eve's pelt overhead, waving the soft dry fur coat in the air proudly, he proclaiming his possession of the girl ..The murmurs from the crowd ranged from curious, to envy, to fearful.
''Selki''. It was said in whispers, and Ned looked from Eve upwards to the pelt in the others hand, and promptly shoved her from him, only to turn on the owner of the hand that held her skin.

''I don't take kindly ter a man dat beats 'is woman....''

''She be no woman!..She be a mute...but she be my mute!''

to which Ned walked in closer, almost nose to nose with the one that glared at him, the others sweaty smell rank from unwashed skin and clothing , to which Neds nose curled, his huge frame impressively clad in a rough woven undershirt and the leather binding of his vest..His shoulders huge, his hair trailing in uneven lengths down his back, with braids interwoven randomly , even to his beard. He was an older man..Older than the one he squared up to, but it didn't stop Ned growling his warning quietly..

''Ye'll be lettin' 'er go now......Cause if ye don't...I'm goonna hunt ye, and pin yer carcus up along the coast ter warn 'er kind against pups like yer.''

Someone somewhere bellowed about there being a fight..Circumstance then drew both the men to dropping their sheaths and daggers, as in the back round someone else began taking bets on who would win..For the next few minutes Eve was forgotten..Her pelt kicked between the two huge men as fists struck bone and flesh, amidst grunts then spit blood being the sound closest to her over the shouts of those watching.

She cowered down, terrified of both men, ..one more so than the other..Her hands and feet dirty and chaffed from being hauled along behind Him on his horse, Eve with her hands tied to a tether, she having been made to walk barefoot along the dirt roads to leave her feet too sore to run away should she get a chance.

One hit the ground with a single dead sounding thud..She closed her eyes, her hands behind her head, on her knees as if trying to make herself as small as possible..A cheer raised higher than the groans and curses of disappointment, and suddenly Eve felt a huge paw of a hand grip her wrist, and pull her without ceremony to her feet...Her head snapped up....she had to know which of them had won the fight....won her..It was the one with the braids in his hair..the older one...His grip tight on her arm as he pulled her away from the crowd, and the slowly reviving other..

And Eves pelt was in Ned's free hand, her eyes wild as she felt a fresh fear grip her..She didn't know this one.., what he'd want.. The other had beaten her because he tired of her not speaking..But Eve's words hadn't formed yet....., and of course too, she'd not wanted to speak to him..Not wanted to communicate with one that had from the first second he'd found her, was telling her what was in store for her.

The fur was thrust against Eves chest..It's scent her scent..Her hand clutched it, as Ned continued pulling her along behind him, his steps huge, she having to try run to keep up..But her feet were sore..the skin broken...but for her fur, Eve would have run on broken bones to keep it with her..She didn't understand now at all what was happening..Ned reached his horse, swung his huge form up on it, the saddle creaking, the great animal snorting and clawing one hoof into the dirt as he reached down, and offered Eve his hand.

His patience was no greater than the others..as Eve shied back, unwilling to trust, not sure what to do..unable to speak to ask...so he just grabbed her roughly, and all but hauled her across in front of him on her belly, Eve crying out, then bursting into shamed tears at the rough handling of her rescuer, her ribs painful against the gilding on his saddle, she laying across his lap as he kicked his stead into a quick canter out of the camp, Eve feeling as if her ribs would surely spear her insides with the jolting ride.

''...Oh whist yer bawling girl....I'll be taking yer 'ome now, so shut yer trap''.

And Ned, ...sweet loving gentle Ned, who would later that day bring her to the shore line, right to the waters edge, to let Eve go freely back to her world, roared with laughter..Kind resourceful Ned, would watch her enter the water, sink beneath its icy cold surface and strip naked, only to resurface as she was born to be...He would sit watching her, then she would watch him make camp, to continue his wait....But wait for what?...She'd watched him watching her for days..Just watching, at times stretching out for exercise, bathing at a small tin basin by his campfire.. ..She would watch him from afar until her family would call to move on to newer feeding grounds...And Eve, after 12 nights of being watched.....and watching him, would refuse to go with them.

Why? By the time he'd have brought her to the waters edge, he'd have known her but hours...and Eve would have been fearful of him, lacking in trust....But his gift to her would be greater than freedom...He would give her 'choice'... And in time, Eve will chose to stay....to return to the man still camped on the beach, ..still watching...
This same man, that would ask nothing of Eve only what she was prepared to give freely, now still laughed as he smacked her on her behind and roared at his horse to hasten, as they broke free of the camps boundary racing into the woodlands bordering the coast.

~

Why now?..Why think of Ned now?...He had been her friend...He had loved her...truly grown to love her in their short time together..And Eve, had loved the giant of a man too....That no more had come of them intimately was simply because he had been taken from her. It had not been a wild passionate love..It had not been, nor if she were honest, would never have been..But it was a good love..an honest one. But why think of him now? Now when Aaron was back in the camp, and his men were with their women?..Was that why? Was it because the women rushed now in relief to welcome their mates, and their men welcomed the relief of being held by someone that wanted nothing only what they wanted to give. She envied the women the right to that embrace.....and the men for the power of its safety.

The flap snapped behind her, the smoke from the fresh fire broke and fogged the interior as Eve dropped her fur in a tidy bundle close to the chest Aaron had arranged for her, and she turned. The relief at his smile was beyond magnificent..The lurch of its effect was almost painful in her chest..It ran to her belly, to her fingertips, up her arms to almost smother her throat with its tight grip as she stood stoically looking at him...hiding her reaction well beneath the outward dutiful politeness as she bowed her head to him respectfully..

“I told you I would return….”

It sounded almost intimate, his words. She took one step closer, paused and nodded slightly, before she closed the space, and reached for the woven leather thong on the front of his shirt, opening it at will, to carefully peep inside at his bandages...He was pale, and looked tired...But his smile was reassuring....and it was for her..No one else.There was relief that he'd been tended...well tended as she looked at tidy wad of bindings around his torso.....but there was also concern, worry..desperate worry, that they'd needed to be changed at all....Her dark eyes looked up at him, Eve's face gentle, his breath warm on her cheek, the distance minute between them..Pale fingers slowly began to refasten the thong, her eyes lowering modestly as she whispered quietly..

''Welcome back M'lord.''

He smelled wild...Death did not stick to his skin in a dull harsh aroma...Only his own scent...his primitive scent...and scent of fresh salted skin, and the very outside world that the battle had been played out on..They were so close....improperly close, but she didn't move. Her fingers weaving the thong back into the loops of his shirt, Eve unable to look at Aaron, ..her focus her fingers, ..his chest.........his skin.
He was back...Thanks be too the gods. He was back...Why was it so necessary that Aaron was back? Because he possesses your pelt!Every time she thought of why she was here, it hurt...Smacked of a pain to her heart that she'd never felt before....Never knew she was capable of..Her pelt was her..it was what made her the woman-creature she was...And it caused her pain for the first time in her life........That the possessor of the pelt was clueless to its implications only served to win Eve over to him...He didn't need the pelt to capture her, and its control over her have her wishing to be.........................Wish to be what? His? You fool Eve...Men like him, don't take creatures like you as their own..They possess you...until they are done with you, but never call you theirs. God it was agony to know what she might be if he knew of the pelt, and what she wanted to be if there was no pelt.

The last loop is found, the shirt almost closed, and Eve looks up at Aaron, his eyes deep set, shadowed with the strain of being everything to so many..He was in that moment, the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen...Or more beautiful, than she'd thought him to be before..Adrenaline had subsidized her body's lack of proper sleep......and now seeing Aaron is back ..his injuries attended , his smile...his smile....His smile was a calm balm that soothed the worries of all the 'why's and 'what ifs' filling her mind.

Eve's body was jaded tired now in its relief that he was back.....She assumed that Aaron would have to be exhausted also.., his injuries unfairly challenging his body's strength..His reasons for tiredness greater than hers. Her quiet voice was just above a whisper, her words slow, without shame that they be too intimate...too suggestive. But she just desired the nearness of resting with him, and when refreshed would worry no doubt again, as to why she would need such nearness.

''I'm tired..the night was long, and my mind wondered......Lay with me and sleep''

It took a brief moment for his eyes to adjust to the relative darkness of the canvas covered structure. The sun was high in the sky, casting fiery rays about, and to go from near noon-day lighting, to the darkness of the tent swallowed his ability to see for a few moments. He closed his eyes for a moment to aid in the adjustment to the dark. When his eyes flickered open again and the darkness became less, she was there, so close to him.

Her whispered words struck him. He did not have her heightened senses, so he could not smell the myriad of emotions that she was trying so hard to conceal. However he could sense something in her voice. A delicate fragility that she had displayed upon his leaving; Yet now, it was even stronger than before.

She moved immediately to check upon his bandaged wounds. No asking for permission, no other form of greeting, she wasn’t even truly looking at him. She was examining her work. He remained silent as she examined the bandages. Even as she prodded and poked gently. She could feel his body tense, but other than that he made no move. Truth be told, he was tired.

She could see the subtle signs of his true exhaustion. The shadow in his eyes, the way his body did not stand up straight as normal. He was in a stance that spoke of being barely vertical.

She was apparently pleased that he was bandaged effectively, as she bound him back up without much comment. She did not however retreat from the close proximity. He was suddenly aware of just how close she was to him. He could smell her skin as well. Smell the light scents of soap mixed with her own natural aroma. He felt the closeness of her. Not just the physical proximity and the touch of her delicate fingers upon his chest, but the sudden flux of her emotions, no matter how she struggled to hide it behind her beautiful mask.

He felt his body begin to react to the presence of her own, but more than that, he felt an emotional stirring he had not quite expected. He was truly glad to see her. More than he would have thought. It was not just the fact that she was a startlingly beautiful woman and alone with him here in his tent, but there was something more to it. He had not felt the warmth that flooded him with any woman whom had shared his bed for longer than he would admit.

He had not made a move to attain physical connection with her yet. However inspired by this sudden rush of emotion he could not quite yet comprehend his arms stretched out toward her. His hands settled lightly around her hips, resting there gently. Finally her gaze met his own, and he felt something pass between them. Suddenly she looked nearly as weary as he was, but despite her own obvious exhaustion she was beautiful. Recognition glittered in his gaze, and it was not recognition on a physical level. He stared into her eyes and stared deep into the pit of her soul. His gaze was piercing and left no corner of safety.

He was holding his breath. He had not even realized it. He let it out in a slow controlled manner as he felt his heart fluttering. His body inching closer so that they were almost entirely entwined. Then she spoke and totally shocked him into realizing how close their bodies were to one another. Even as his brain started to realize what his body already knew, he did not take a single step away from her.

''I'm tired..the night was long, and my mind wondered......Lay with me and sleep''

For his answer his arms enfolded her fully and he pulled her into an embrace. His touch was gentle but there was something solid and tangible in his embrace that he had never given her before. She felt him pressing closer and the top of his head settling atop her own as he encouraged her to lean against his chest and take comfort from his embrace, strength from his body. After a moment of holding her to his battered form he spoke, and his voice was soft.

“That is the best idea I have heard in months. I feel like I’m about to fall over myself. I apologize that the evening was so long for you. There was no time to make things comfortable for everyone.”

He drew in a heavy breath, and with it came a rush of her scent. He started to feel the heavy mantle of leader settle upon his shoulders again. The tangy scent of stress pervaded him for just a moment, but he steadfastly shoved the mantle off his shoulders and let himself focus on the warmth of her skin and her soothing presence. Relaxation flooded him once more and he turned his smile to her and spoke again softly.

“Eve, would you help me with this? It’s been a while since I’ve not been able to dress myself, but it is what it is.”

There was a hint of laughter and mirth in his tone, and she could see warmth radiating from his eyes like the flame of a torch. That certainly had not been there the night they had met.

“That is the best idea I have heard in months. I feel like I’m about to fall over myself. I apologize that the evening was so long for you. There was no time to make things comfortable for everyone.”

In Aaron's holding her, his embrace had brought them closer...His scent engulfed her, ..filling every inhalation, ..coating her very skin with what was him. No other scent mattered now...What ever was happening neither resisted, both in need of what ever was being offered. Eve's body conformed to Aarons perfectly..;she fit against him, tucked in but yet not confined...He just held her to him....and she did the rest unwittingly.

That he was tired, worn out was as obvious to see as to hear in his tone. Tilting her head back, Aaron's breath velvet soft on her cheek, she looked up, the shadows beneath his eyes dark, his skin clammy beneath the weight of his open heavy leather vest and the shirt she'd just closed. It would have been very easy to just follow the course that seemed to be carving itself, and take an intimacy where intimacy seemed to be gently insistent..It was a lovely little coil of tension that crackled as she stepped back a little to help him...his smile still there, resistant to the power of his tiredness.

In an unfortunate necessity, she had to leave Aaron's embrace..moving behind him, to help him undress. Eve gripped the shoulders of his heavy leather vest, and as carefully as she could, she eased it from him at Aaron's pace , letting it drop with a buckled thud beside her..The back of his shirt was wet with sweat. It wasn't an unpleasant nor unexpected scent. Behind him, she wanted to touch...wanted to raise her hands and smooth away the tired sag to a proud stance, but Eve closed her eyes, took a little second to release the pent up surge of that desire...And then she returned to him...

Standing, not looking at him, rather at the loops of his shirt, as her hands insisted on shaking as loop after loop was undone again...Her own skin feeling as if it was on fire. Her back ached with the stress of that lovely coil that was sneaking its greedy little fingers around her.

And then she did look at him.

He had this way of seeing into her that was unnerving ....It would have been easier to look away, but Eve didn't. What she saw in Aaron was the mirrored reflection to what was happening within her. What ever it was, it was decadent. It was beautiful, and it was also frightening. Frightening because it drained the need for anything else out of her.

She did not simply remove the shirt from him when the last loop fell open...It was more profound, more complicated....,almost as if Eve revealed Aaron to herself. She saw the old scars, the newer ones....the dressing on his wound...She saw shadows define his torso...the rise and fall of his chest..and the tightly bound sleek body clad in a slender mask of muscle..This time she did touch...her fingers traced just above his dressing, before his chest knew their light touch,..her palm knew the tiny pebbled hardness of his nipples, and Eve's breathing stilled to an almost nothingness..

Was this right? ..She didn't have that answer for herself. But it felt right. When she looked up into Aarons face, she wanted more than anything to forget about had brought her here..she wanted to forget the scents of others around them..forget that nothing else existed but this moment, these seconds...She wanted to experience the release in her relief that he was back...and safe. And she wanted to share that with him..Make the moment something to be cherished , preserved...desired.

''Sit M'lord''

Her whisper was quiet, but it served Eve well, in taking her back to remembering why she was here..With her foot, she dragged a small low stool behind him to sit, and she lowered with her usual natural ease to her knees, and began undoing Aaron's boots. She was here to serve him..No more. She was not Eve of Anyone.., nor for that fact, was she anyone's Eve. She was just a selkie, a woman creature trying to go home......Only why didn't she feel so resolved to that now?

A warm bowl of water was soaped, and fresh cloth dipped into it, as she began to bath the one that held her pelt..She washed the ground in trail dirt from his hands, ..up his arms, and rinsed before rising upwards on her knees, to bath across his chest...Little soapy bubbles glistened on the short bristle of hair on Aarons chest, his scent freshening, ..her hands tender in their administrations as Eve cleansed him slowly.....It was an act that was proper....for a servant. Or it could also be an intimacy that could be shared with a........................
It allowed her to touch him. That was a need that even her will could not deny.

She was close again...One finger tilted Aaron's chin upwards as she wiped his face, a little smile flickering on her lips in doing so, before she wiped the warm soapy cloth over his neck..She did not move behind him...The cloth was rinsed, and Eve looked at him...right at him, and moved slowly, almost hesitantly in between Aaron's thighs on her knees..His body felt warm...very warm so close to her... ; and then as if to embrace him, she rested one hand on his shoulder, feeling how her finger tips felt on his flesh, before she leaned into him, bathing across the back of his shoulders with the other. Closing her eyes, her cheek brushed his, her lips to his ear as her quivering breath again almost silenced. The bristle on his jaw chaffed her soft cheek, but she didn't move...it was a sensation that was surprisingly sweet, as too was how his breath warmed her throat..

Out side the world was growing quieter, even in the earliness of the day. Lovers faded into their camps to reunite in their relief, ....and widows gathered their grief, sheltered with friends, quietly numb until the funeral piers later in the evening.
Inside Aaron's camp, the cloth slipped from her fingers down his back, to drop silently behind the stool..She did not try to stop it, prevent it....she just let it go, her fingers releasing the fabric...And she waited..didn't move, not then..She stayed as close to Aaron, for as long as she could, until nothing only humility insist she move. Eve leaned back then...enough to view his face...her fingers touching it with utmost gentleness, tracing the tired lines on his handsome features.. Her whisper was just above a breath..Her tiredness abandoned for the pleasure gained in finding a reason to remain this close...

'' Come M'lord, ..we should try to

..sleep?''

There were moments that seemed so potent, so profound that it had to be more than chance that brought them to occur. This felt one of those moments. Too many factors fell into place at just the right moment, for it not to feel like someone somehow had carefully laid out the plans and seen them carried through.

He was almost certain she would recoil from him; revolted by the man who had treated her with such an unkind hand, or just sickened by the trappings of death that he wore upon him. When she melded into him and seemed content to remain his surprise and relief where tangible things. He had not realized how much he craved the warmth of her embrace until the thought of losing it surfaced. The rush of his emotions could almost be read upon his face as if reading words on a page if one were looking.

Weariness was etched upon his face as he turned his head to look down at her. When she looked back up to him he felt a tingle rush through his body and explode through every inch of his living form. Her gaze held a power that he had not remembered. Had they ever traded looks like this before? He could not remember. Thought seemed to slow until he wondered if his brain had been replaced with gelatin. Her gaze was all consuming, drawing him in like the some inevitability he could not conceive.

He smiled at her, even as she pulled away from him. Trying to mask his disappointment from her, he did not want to display the true depth of what he was feeling. Despite what most knew about him his emotions could be fiery and intense, and they could be so potent that under their weight he could pass them off to others. He did not want anything to come from her in any manner of coercion.

His disappointment was not to last however as she began to assist him in removing the leather jerkin that was supposed to keep him somewhat safe. He relaxed himself as much as he could allow and surrendered to her tender ministrations. He helped her as was needed, but for the most part he just relaxed. Every time she accidentally brushed his skin with her fingertips she could feel a very real reaction. It was one that could only be called soothed or calmed; as if some very base desire was sated by her simple touch.

He didn’t even seem to notice as the leather vest was dropped heavily to the earth. Instead he focused on the feeling as she began to unwrap the makeshift shirt from his skin. Sweat and dirt clung to the bandages in some places. In other places the copper scent of blood mingled. His bandaged torso was still extremely fragile, and even the stress of making it back to camp mounted had taken a toll upon him. Yet for now he could shrug off responsibility, shrug off the stress of leadership and just be a man; soothed by the presence and touch of a woman.

As the last winding trail of soiled bandage was removed he shed a sigh of relief. His skin was begging for her touch. When she finally gave him what he was aching for his head drifted back and he sighed. He gave up trying to hide from her, trying to pretend he was not desperately craving her tender touch. His scent was full of soothed pleasure and his breathing became slow and deep; almost akin to one who was on the verge of slumber. She could see muscles relaxing, the tension leaked out of him like water from a split water skin.

As her touch continued his head drifted forward. His eyes opened only part of the way. Half lidded; his gaze took in her features, and even his smile was drifting on the verge of lethargy. He almost looked intoxicated by the level of pleasure her touch was giving him. A soft rumble began within the confines of his chest and echoed within the canvas walls. It was a deep baritone almost similar to that of a purring feline, but with a masculine resonance.

''Sit M'lord''

Her voice was a soft whisper, and he felt the stool touch the back of his legs. He eased himself down with only the smallest grimace of pain. His eyes opened more clearly as he watched her begin to unlace his boots. He saw the way her eyes fastened onto her task and not upon him. Had he been reading her wrong? Was she just trying to perform her task with zeal? No… he had been sure there was something more in her touch. No woman could touch a man like that without feeling something. So what brought on this sag in her shoulders and the downcast eyes?

“Eve… you don’t have to…”

His voice was soft, gentle, and packed with emotion that couldn’t quite be defined. She could scent his confusion, his upset, the stress of seeing her emotionally strained and not knowing how to soothe her in the same. Yet she transitioned from one task to the other without so much as blinking an eye. It was almost mechanical.

He decided it was not the time to talk, if she was already struggling with something it would not do to stop her now, it might further damage her emotional state, or worse her pride. He let her wash the sweat and dirt from his flesh, but the soothing that had taken place was now absent. There was a whole new reason for there to be knots in his shoulders and a furrow of his brows. It was not the concerns of a Captain over his men however. This was more intimate, more personal.

As she raised his chin with a single finger his countenance was a mask of concern. He started to speak, to find something to remove the sadness from her lovely frame. Yet when she raised her face to his, a secret little smile spread over her lips. As the soapy water drifted over his face he closed his eyes and tried to relax, tried to still his mind. He could not find that measure of relaxation no matter how hard he tried however… not by himself.

It took her proximity to shift him out of dark thoughts. Instead of moving behind him as he had expected, she instead pressed her slender figure close to his own. Again surprise spiked in his scent, but it was mingled with the very obvious scent of pleasure and a craving for more. She gave him just that as she nestled her cheek against his own. Feeling her smooth skin against his own, and her lips nestled tauntingly against his ear he could not help it; he let out a very soft moan of pleasure, and his frame trembled. His breathing started to come faster as his pulse once more raced, and the warmth of his breathing rushed over her exposed neck. He needed to do something to show her that he was thankful for her attention, but at the same time he dared not be too forward as to frighten her, or think he would take advantage of their situation.

Tipping his head slowly as he felt the cloth drop to the earth he brushed his lips against the curve of her neck. It was less a kiss, more like him dragging his lips along her vulnerable flesh so softly it was barely there; yet the tickle left behind, and the faint foot print of his saliva from his lips was enough to remind her it had been real. That was all he did. Shortly after she drew back and spoke again.

Her touch forced his eyes closed once more and he tried to become the master of himself. Yet just before his eyes were shielded behind the lids she could see the fire of passion stoked and mingled with concern. His voice was almost a whisper of it’s own as it rolled past his lips.

“Of course… Please it may not be much but my home is yours as long as you will have it.”

He stood and as he did so she could detect the obvious sign of a man whose body was reacting to that of a woman he desired. The faint bulge within his trousers was proof enough that her touches had done more than just soothe him. Yet he stretched out his hands to her and took her own within them and helped her to her feet slowly. Leading her by the hand toward the mass of blankets and pillows that were his bed he eased himself down slowly to one side and drew the blankets back. Settling to the right side so that his wounded side was away from her he stretched himself out slowly. Then he blinked in realization.

“Oh I’m sorry. My mind has apparently already gone to sleep. Do you need assistance with your dress?”

He looked totally abashed and his eyes flicked up to her own, and then flicked away. His embarrassment clear as spring water. He sat up slowly with a grimace of pain as his wounded side stretched. Then he raised his gaze to her own slowly wondering upon a reply.

What was this that was happening?
There had never been provocative provocation with her and Ned....There had been affection..no passion...loyalty...no fever...but it had been good.
This was more. She had no right to dwell on the feeling of Aaron's breath on her skin..the feel of his lips lingering in a touch that was just a touch, that didn't attempt to call itself anything more.

Even when he offered her his hand to accompany him to his bed, it was a simple gesture, doing what she had suggested..Her hand was pale in his, her fingers safe in his clasp, and Eve looked at him...down his torso, her gaze drawn along the firm tautness of his belly to his crotch...Why did her face burn then?
Why did she look away from the sight of his body's response, as she followed him obediently hand in hand?..
Had she intentionally provoked him...even herself?..What instinct was she following?...

She knew the answer of course when he lay back on his bed, and looked up at her..She knew. It was a primal beauty that was awakening....excentuating a femininity that was usually hunted and taken by force from her kind in captivity, but never allowed to flourish alone.
And now in Eve, it was easy to hear the tug of the first fingers of real desire on her flesh, and to relinquish the barriers raised to protect herself.

''...........Do you need assistance with your dress?”

It was a delight to know this fear.....this uncertainty .
It sent a shiver up her spin like no other fear had ever done. What was there to fear? The instinct within scorched its licking flicks of heat through Eve's pours, shredding thoughts of anything that might dare intrude..And yet again, she looked away ...How innocent was Aaron's question? Why was it now that she was afraid of this feeling, but not afraid of inviting it. Why was she daring to think about this..this impediment of a dress, instead of simply refusing its removal..

She turned slowly away, and closed her eyes...The faint light that filtered in through the crown of the dome lent only a golden shaft spearing into the smoldering embers of the campfire. Eves fingers tugged on the two leather thongs that bound the front of her shift together , loosening the dress, feeling it shift on her shoulders as she pulled the strings slowly from their loops down the front..Her breathing was quiet...her chest hurt , ..for it was a breathtaking sip of agony..

She was a coward now...The material hugged her..and her fingers were unfair in their unrelinquishing grasp..And she looked back over her shoulder to Aaron, ..the captain..he who could call her his and rob her of the choices being made. Choices now not made because of fear.
She was a coward, because the dress clung to her, and her fingers refused to let it fall, and it pained her...hurt her heart, ..and pinched at her shame relentlessly..

So Eve turned, the bodice opened down the front to below her navel, one hand crossed over to conceal her barely concealed breasts...Her flesh pearly white, one shoulder barren of fabric, her face pale,..the darkness of her eyes troubled and pleading.....Dropping to her knees by his side on the bed, she leaned in across him, her free hand placed beside his shoulder, and Eve fought for the words that would free her, or restrain her..She could see the flickers of color in his eyes..how his pupils dilated beneath her shadow......and feel the pleasure of his breath on her flesh..

Only then did she truly know the depth of her own need....The tremble that ran in her body with every breath....Only then did she know shame meant nothing now..With her whisper broken....almost a sob lost on a breath as she pleaded....And hid nothing..; was in fact opening herself to rejection, ..embarrasment.. even anger...
But for Eve, as she looked down on Aaron..not the Captain...not the man that possessed what was hers..., the bounty to be won was greater than the loss.

''I'm afraid............Help me.''

He waited for the answer to his question and it looked as if it were not going to come. He was sitting, watching her move almost like a doe whom knew she were being hunted by something unseen. She had grace, but moved timidly. She knew her task, yet was afraid to walk down the path she was walking. She stood framed by the small shaft of light cresting from the smoke hole of the tent and froze as if she had just spotted the hunter who dogged her steps. Her breathing was tight and strained; he half expected her to turn and bolt any second now.

Instead her hands fell to the task of slowly unwrapping herself from her garments. He watched for the briefest moment before turning his gaze away from her politely. It was apparent that she not only did not desire his help, but this was a straining endeavor for her. So he turned his gaze to the wall of the tent, and stretched himself back on the makeshift bed. When she turned her gaze to him at first he was not staring at her like some sort of ravenous hungry beast; he was a man lounging comfortably within his own home.

He heard the rustle of fabric and he fought the instinct to turn toward her. He needed to give her the proper amount of modesty. Yet there was a sirens call in the silence of the tent, he heard it calling him. When he ignored that call it started to wail, and then it began to scream. A sound only heard inside his mind of course, but he turned regardless and was met with a sight that stole his breath.

She stood framed in the sunlight with her dress barely clinging to her frame. One arm crossed over her chest to barely conceal her breasts from his gaze, but the fabric was open to reveal the skin all the way down past her navel. He thought he could see the point where her hips began. One pale shoulder displayed to his gaze, the other clothed. The sight should have been what? Comical? It was nothing of the sort. It light a fire inside of his body that he had not known in a long time. Something about her vulnerability, her fragile innocence, and her beauty in her attempt to hide the bounty of her body from him that made him hungry for more in a way he could not hide.

His face flushed with shame and his gaze broke to the floor. He should not be thinking thoughts like this about her! This was supposed to be a simple arrangement and he could let her go when she was safe and had enough coin to make it on her own. Yet his body was responding to the carnal calling of her soft pale skin. He did not look at her again, he ignored that silent screaming inside his head resolutely. He had shamed himself and no doubt her as well by staring at her with such open admiration and hunger.

He was just about to get up and find himself another place to sleep as if sleep could come now! He was angry with himself, and filled the point of bursting with shame. It was then he sensed movement next to him that stilled him. His breath halted as her pale arm drifted across his body and settled next to his shoulder. She was nearly draped over him and he couldn’t help but swallow hard. Her words crept out in an emotional rush that was broken by something akin to a sob. His own chest felt tight as her words sunk in. She was afraid? Of what? Of him?

There was no masking the hunger in his body, or in his gaze. Yet as he turned his eyes to her own slowly they were soft and warm. Reaching out he took his first true liberty of her and brushed his strong, calloused hand across her smooth pale cheek. His fingers curled back softly into her lush hair, but the palm and thumb of his hand remained brushing her cheek in a soothing caress. His voice was soft and almost a whisper to match her own.

“Eve, there is nothing to fear from me. I will not take something from you that you would not give me willingly. I do not bring harm to those who do not wish me harm, my dear. If my presence here makes you uncomfortable I can find elsewhere to rest. Please do not fear me, I am not certain my heart could bear it.”

By the end of his words she could hear the emotional strain in his voice; the pain at the idea she would fear him. That he desired her was absolutely obvious in his quickened breath, and the hunger that burned behind his eyes, but there was also no doubting his words. He would not take her without a very clear sign that it was what she desired. He raised himself up off the mass of blankets and leaned closer to her. She was the source of that sirens call; he knew it to be true. He ached to taste her skin beneath his lips and he could not stop himself.

Yet he had just made her a promise he intended to keep. Trapped between a desire that could not be denied, and a promise that could not be broken he forced a compromise. His lips very softly brushed across her forehead. They lingered there as he spoke in a tone full of warmth.

“If you are safe anywhere in the world, dear woman, then you are safe with me.”

He let silence settle between them and he tugged her more than half bared frame against his own in a gentle embrace. He could feel the parted fabric of her dress, and feel her bared breast nuzzling against his chest. He ignored the sensation as best he could and focused on trying to soothe her fear and bring her comfort.

She was learning fear can be a wonderful thing. It could in its duty, cause the expected terrors and pains that are familiarly discharged in threats, wars and warnings..But it also was a wondrous accompaniment to desire..An innocent desire, that surfaced unguided, untutored, and unexpectedly. Fear dressed innocence with a succulent naivety that enhanced desire, and forbade impatience. It was a good thing..She listened to it,...heard the Captains quiet voice, and felt a touch to her cheek that was to sooth, not demand.

Eve watched him, heard him...felt his words , .. and knew of their honesty.
This Aaron that spoke of safety...giving willingly.........and his heart. Her fear was her gift to herself, as he lay back, taking her with him gently, holding her to him, asking nothing of her, taking only the comfort of her warmth, and she his. She was safe...She believed him, ....despite the hovering shadow of her pelt.

How long she lay there, Eve had no idea. Sounds became completely silenced as Aaron's warm body gave its succor and comfort, and Eves arousal waited....and the fear that confused, and taunted became kinder, and let her drift away to some unknown destination.
She stirred against him, feeling the warm flesh of his chest against her cheek, and comforting rhythm of his heart beat..Her hand had come to rest on his belly, she relaxing into the conforms of his form, each curve pressed and fitting against him.

She knew then she had slept..Had fallen into the languid safety of a slumber, that led the early morning further into the day..Outside the encampment was still quiet, but for the sounds of women preparing food and tending fires. It was a sound of security for Eve. She'd never known safety on land among numbers. She'd always hid...spied and watched, listened and tried to learn..Until the ones that stole her freedom, until Ned came and freed her.

Ned. He had never held her like this. Yes she'd slept in his arms, ...had known the feeling of safety,.. but Eve had never known the fear of her own desires. She wished she had loved him...had wanted to. But the love he had wanted had never come. Ned..Sweet, kind, strong Ned. She had loved him.., but it was not the love of a lover.

Slowly Eve shifted..Very slowly she tilted her head back to look at Aaron...She couldn't see if he was asleep or awake, so she lay back, remaining quiet, her hand moving from between them, to rest on his chest. The dress had slipped to her hips as she'd rested, he keeping her warm against him..The fire behind was still ablaze, someone, perhaps the old one, had stoked it, and kept it lighting. They would have seen her...Eve..Semi nude, asleep in Aaron's embrace.

Again, slowly she moved..Only this time she pressed a hand beneath herself, and pushed herself up to sitting...There was no dress to conceal her, it trapped beneath her bottom, in a creamy ripple of fabric on heavy rugs..There was nothing to hide behind...just the slender arm she covered herself with, as she leaned over Aaron, and whispered against his ear, to stir him.

''I'm not afraid of you ''

She dragged her soft lips in a slow movement back and forth over his cheek, ..caressing him....inviting, ..teasing herself,his scent filling her nostrils; ...arousing Eve, tempting, bringing forth a flush of heat to her skin...She shivered beneath the glow of want, and paused her lips to the side of his mouth..
She touched him then...Abandoning her modest coverage of herself, as her hand searched the definitions of his chest, ..up to his throat....slowly guided by instinct down his stomach, to pause over his navel, before she lay back against him.
There was a calm now.....A beautiful calm, with a sultry warmth, ..that was shameless and with out fear...She moved in closer, almost draped over Aaron, and she whispered against his lips..

''I want this......You''.

Her modesty, her vulnerability, and yes even her fear taunted him. They called to him, screamed at the animalistic part of him to attack, to lunge, to seize this moment and take her! He was a predator and she was the prey. Pounce and take what is yours to claim!

It was a struggle to relax and let his body be soothed by her and not give in to his desperate need that only her touch could soothe. Yet he mastered himself with a supreme effort and let his body relax. With her own figure deliciously cradled against him his heart beat and breathing slowed to a crawl and the lethargy of sleep finally crashed in upon him. He was exhausted beyond all measure and sleep took advantage once it had a foothold. He was sleeping deep and heavy in moments, and those moments stretched on to hours…

Then he felt her small hand brush over his stomach. Her fingers touched the smooth skin that sheathed hard muscle; tangled in the soft fur that dipped into the line of his pants. He stirred just faintly, but he drew in a gasping breath and then let it out in a slow controlled manner. Her touch had instantly relit the fire that had nagged at him before sleep had taken him.

As with the manner of most men, when he awoke from slumber there was faint arousal evident in the part of him still draped with clothing. Yet if her eyes lingered, she would see the fabric strain as her fingertips teased his stomach. The muscles rippled as a rush of sensation caused his stomach to quiver in pleasure. He did not open his eyes as consciousness slowly came to him. If this was a dream he did not want it to end, would not risk the chance of it doing so.

Her hand came to rest upon his chest. Could she feel the pounding of his heart as her small hand settled in the hollow of his breast bone and fit there perfectly? It thundered like a drum and now it was his turn to call to her; his scent spiked with desire and gave off something else. The natural scents one animal gave off to attract another was strong in his skin now. It called to her, begged her, screamed at her. The hunger of flesh upon flesh, of two becoming one was written on his skin, was given off with each beat of his heart.
''I'm not afraid of you ''
His eyes finally crept open and he got his first look at her. She could see the lingering traces of sleep in his gaze for a few heartbeats, and then like water poured on a raging fire it evaporated under the heat. His breathing started to come faster, and was audible as his lips parted. His gaze lingered on her frame with only an arm to cover her from his gaze. Somehow that made it all the more enticing to him and he could not hold back a soft whispered word that slipped past his lips in a breathy tone.

“Beautiful…”

Thought was shattered and promises be damned he could not help himself any longer. He had to touch her. Her lips upon his ear had seared the last of his will away and her sultry whisper made demands of his body he could not deny. Finally he let his arms embrace her bare torso. His hands splayed wide over her bare skin and his rough fingertips moved over her skin in the strange dichotomy that was male desire. His touch was both hungry, but gentle, loving, but desperate, possessive, but reverent.

Her lips upon his cheek pulled out a soft moan from his parted lips. His whole body began to shift under her own as the urge to feel more of her against him became a need. Then her words gave him a moment of peace, before the burned him alive from the inside out.

''I want this......You''.

His lips touched her own and at first the kiss was gentle and tender. However it did not take long for his intense hunger for her to creep within and turn a gentle loving kiss into a hungry taste of her soft petals. One hand slowly raising along her bare back with his palm teasing her spine. Reaching the mass of her hair his thick fingers curled around it like it were the most exotic and desired fabric known to man. With only a gentle hint of a tug he pulled her closer, and she could feel him tremble from desperate need.

His free hand began to slowly brush over her bottom despite the cloth that covered her. He let himself explore her curves, and revel in the way they fit against him. She could feel his hunger manifested against her hips, straining against what kept it captured, throbbing with his rushing pulse.

He broke the kiss with a desperate gasp and stared into her eyes with such intense heat and passion it was a wonder he didn’t set her skin aflame. Yet he drew several slow and deep breaths and let his eyes wander along her face. He was trying to calm down, trying to gain control over his need. For all he knew this may be her first time, and if it was, he would not want it to be simply some animalistic need filled gesture. His hand disentangled from her hand and cupped her cheek gently and he gave her a passionate smile and murmured in a deep thick tone.

“I want you too Eve. You are perhaps the most beautiful woman I have ever met, and I cannot help but think that my meeting you was more than chance.”