((Immediately follows Blood Oath.))
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Liam had laid awake long into the night, watching Shaye as she slept, in wonder of this girl who'd come into his life, this girl who was on the verge of becoming a woman. This girl who, whether she knew it or not, held his heart in her hands. He watched her while she slept, feeling a tumult of conflicting emotions. Anger at her father, sadness for her pain, joy and wonder, hope and confusion, all rolled up together and warring inside him.
He'd waited until she was asleep before sliding his arms around her to hold her close and keep her warm. She'd nuzzled against him while she slept, like she always did, keeping close to share his warmth. It was the only time he could hold her close without worrying she might push him away, question his motives, or laugh at him. After a while, his eyelids grew heavy and he, too, drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
He awoke, as he had become accustomed to, just before dawn, the sky just turning gray with the coming morning. His gaze slid to her, slowly recalling the events of the previous day, and more importantly the night. Only a few short hours ago, he'd pledged his life to her, his heart, his entire being. If it wasn't for the throbbing pain in his thumb, he might not have believed it, but there was proof positive just beneath the crude bandage she had cut from the blanket.
A smile touched his face at the memory of it, despite the painful events that had caused it to happen, and he reached over to very gently brush her hair back from her face. He lifted himself up onto an elbow and leaned closed, hovering over her peacefully-resting face, frowning a little at the bruises that darkened her cheek and her neck
It would be so easy to kiss her. She might not even know it. Countless times he had watched her sleeping and had been tempted to kiss her, only to back off at the last minute, afraid she'd wake up and scold him, or worse, laugh. He frowned a little, gathering his courage, leaning forward to brush a feather-light kiss against her forehead, chaste, protective, brotherly even. He glanced at the window, realizing with a frown that it would soon be dawn. Quietly and carefully, he crept out of bed, pulling the blanket up over her to keep her warm while he was away. As quiet as a mouse, he pulled on his boots and cloak, and slipped out the door, clicking it gently closed behind him. He wouldn't be gone long, and if he was lucky, she'd still be asleep by the time he got back.
Shaye would normally have woken at the same time as Liam, early enough to creep from his bed and into her own to save face in front of their friends. But the exertion of the day before - the beating she had taken from her father; the exhaustion of crying herself out not once, but twice; even the depth of emotion that had urged her into making a blood oath - it had taken its toll, and so she slept on, rolling into the indent left behind by her friend's body as she unconsciously groped for him, aware even in her sleep that he'd left but too much in need of good sleep to wake up just yet.
But even the deepest slumber couldn't keep her from becoming aware that Liam had left her alone. Eventually, Shaye was bound to wake up, stirring slowly with a loud groan as the aches and pains of her beaten, bruised body rushed to inform her that they were still there and still very much acute and present. Grimacing with pain, she pushed herself to sit up, brushing her hair back out of her face, and realised belatedly that she had cloth wrapped about one hand. Her dark gaze focused on the makeshift bandage as the evening before flooded back to her ....and hurt flared as she looked around. Even after all that, after she'd promised so faithfully and meant every word, he'd gone. "Liam?"
There was evidence that he meant to come back, if she looked for it. His pack was still there and everything he'd brought with him in it, save for the clothing he'd worn on his back and his cloak for warmth. His knife was still there, right where they'd left it the night before, sheathed in leather, their blood mingled and dried on the blade. It was cold in the barracks, the sun not yet having risen to chase the damp chill away. The lantern had gone out hours ago, leaving them in darkness, until dawn. He didn't plan on being gone long - an hour, at most, if all went according to plan.
As her dark gaze fell on the knife, Shaye felt a swift pang of shame at her unworthy suspicions. She knew Liam better than to ever think that he would leave her all alone after the evening they'd shared. Shivering a little in the chill of the pre-dawn, she wrapped herself up in the blanket, coccooned in the middle of the makeshift bed as she turned her hands to cleaning her friend's blade and tidying his pack, passing the time easily as she waited for his return. It was better than trying to move around in the chilly air - as bad as the bruises looked this morning, they were nothing to the ache in her ribs from the kicking Fargil had given her when she had finally gone down.
Not long after she awoke, Liam returned, pulling the door open, a second pack slung over his back, arms laden with firewood. He stomped his feet off as he stepped inside, a fresh coat of snow having fallen during the night. He pushed the door closed with his back, looking over to find her awake and wrapped up in the blanket trying to keep warm. "You're awake," he said, stating the obvious. "I'm sorry it took so long. I meant to be back before you woke up."
Her brow rose as she looked back at him, grimacing at the sight of the snow that covered him. "No, I'm not," she told him in a drawling display of shivering sarcasm from inside her coccoon of blanket. "I actually died of cold when my bed warmer left and this is my disembodied spirit preparing to haunt you forever, as per our agreement." She flashed him a wink and a grin, deliberately using her bandaged hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. "What've you been doing?"
He grinned, in good humor this morning. And why shouldn't he be? He was tired and hadn't gotten much sleep, but he was in good spirits. He was going home today and he was taking his closest friend with him. "I have been foraging while Your Laziness has been sleeping," he teased, brown-green eyes dancing with amusement. He stepped further inside, setting the pile of logs down on the floor near the hearth, and shrugging the pack from his back, which he threw over to her on the bed. "Change of clothes and warmer boots," he told her as he knelt down to start a fire in the hearth. Over the last year, they'd learned how to survive in the wild, and making a fire had become child's play.
"Foraging, huh?" She grinned wider, leaning over to investigate the clothing he'd brought her. "Am I rubbing off on you, or did you actually pay for this lot?" she asked cheekily, shucking hurriedly out of her blanket and her thin vest to pull the warmth of a definitely sturdier shirt over her head without even a hint toward modesty. And she had definitely blossomed over the last year. "Makos catch you?"
Liam had laid awake long into the night, watching Shaye as she slept, in wonder of this girl who'd come into his life, this girl who was on the verge of becoming a woman. This girl who, whether she knew it or not, held his heart in her hands. He watched her while she slept, feeling a tumult of conflicting emotions. Anger at her father, sadness for her pain, joy and wonder, hope and confusion, all rolled up together and warring inside him.
He'd waited until she was asleep before sliding his arms around her to hold her close and keep her warm. She'd nuzzled against him while she slept, like she always did, keeping close to share his warmth. It was the only time he could hold her close without worrying she might push him away, question his motives, or laugh at him. After a while, his eyelids grew heavy and he, too, drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
He awoke, as he had become accustomed to, just before dawn, the sky just turning gray with the coming morning. His gaze slid to her, slowly recalling the events of the previous day, and more importantly the night. Only a few short hours ago, he'd pledged his life to her, his heart, his entire being. If it wasn't for the throbbing pain in his thumb, he might not have believed it, but there was proof positive just beneath the crude bandage she had cut from the blanket.
A smile touched his face at the memory of it, despite the painful events that had caused it to happen, and he reached over to very gently brush her hair back from her face. He lifted himself up onto an elbow and leaned closed, hovering over her peacefully-resting face, frowning a little at the bruises that darkened her cheek and her neck
It would be so easy to kiss her. She might not even know it. Countless times he had watched her sleeping and had been tempted to kiss her, only to back off at the last minute, afraid she'd wake up and scold him, or worse, laugh. He frowned a little, gathering his courage, leaning forward to brush a feather-light kiss against her forehead, chaste, protective, brotherly even. He glanced at the window, realizing with a frown that it would soon be dawn. Quietly and carefully, he crept out of bed, pulling the blanket up over her to keep her warm while he was away. As quiet as a mouse, he pulled on his boots and cloak, and slipped out the door, clicking it gently closed behind him. He wouldn't be gone long, and if he was lucky, she'd still be asleep by the time he got back.
Shaye would normally have woken at the same time as Liam, early enough to creep from his bed and into her own to save face in front of their friends. But the exertion of the day before - the beating she had taken from her father; the exhaustion of crying herself out not once, but twice; even the depth of emotion that had urged her into making a blood oath - it had taken its toll, and so she slept on, rolling into the indent left behind by her friend's body as she unconsciously groped for him, aware even in her sleep that he'd left but too much in need of good sleep to wake up just yet.
But even the deepest slumber couldn't keep her from becoming aware that Liam had left her alone. Eventually, Shaye was bound to wake up, stirring slowly with a loud groan as the aches and pains of her beaten, bruised body rushed to inform her that they were still there and still very much acute and present. Grimacing with pain, she pushed herself to sit up, brushing her hair back out of her face, and realised belatedly that she had cloth wrapped about one hand. Her dark gaze focused on the makeshift bandage as the evening before flooded back to her ....and hurt flared as she looked around. Even after all that, after she'd promised so faithfully and meant every word, he'd gone. "Liam?"
There was evidence that he meant to come back, if she looked for it. His pack was still there and everything he'd brought with him in it, save for the clothing he'd worn on his back and his cloak for warmth. His knife was still there, right where they'd left it the night before, sheathed in leather, their blood mingled and dried on the blade. It was cold in the barracks, the sun not yet having risen to chase the damp chill away. The lantern had gone out hours ago, leaving them in darkness, until dawn. He didn't plan on being gone long - an hour, at most, if all went according to plan.
As her dark gaze fell on the knife, Shaye felt a swift pang of shame at her unworthy suspicions. She knew Liam better than to ever think that he would leave her all alone after the evening they'd shared. Shivering a little in the chill of the pre-dawn, she wrapped herself up in the blanket, coccooned in the middle of the makeshift bed as she turned her hands to cleaning her friend's blade and tidying his pack, passing the time easily as she waited for his return. It was better than trying to move around in the chilly air - as bad as the bruises looked this morning, they were nothing to the ache in her ribs from the kicking Fargil had given her when she had finally gone down.
Not long after she awoke, Liam returned, pulling the door open, a second pack slung over his back, arms laden with firewood. He stomped his feet off as he stepped inside, a fresh coat of snow having fallen during the night. He pushed the door closed with his back, looking over to find her awake and wrapped up in the blanket trying to keep warm. "You're awake," he said, stating the obvious. "I'm sorry it took so long. I meant to be back before you woke up."
Her brow rose as she looked back at him, grimacing at the sight of the snow that covered him. "No, I'm not," she told him in a drawling display of shivering sarcasm from inside her coccoon of blanket. "I actually died of cold when my bed warmer left and this is my disembodied spirit preparing to haunt you forever, as per our agreement." She flashed him a wink and a grin, deliberately using her bandaged hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. "What've you been doing?"
He grinned, in good humor this morning. And why shouldn't he be? He was tired and hadn't gotten much sleep, but he was in good spirits. He was going home today and he was taking his closest friend with him. "I have been foraging while Your Laziness has been sleeping," he teased, brown-green eyes dancing with amusement. He stepped further inside, setting the pile of logs down on the floor near the hearth, and shrugging the pack from his back, which he threw over to her on the bed. "Change of clothes and warmer boots," he told her as he knelt down to start a fire in the hearth. Over the last year, they'd learned how to survive in the wild, and making a fire had become child's play.
"Foraging, huh?" She grinned wider, leaning over to investigate the clothing he'd brought her. "Am I rubbing off on you, or did you actually pay for this lot?" she asked cheekily, shucking hurriedly out of her blanket and her thin vest to pull the warmth of a definitely sturdier shirt over her head without even a hint toward modesty. And she had definitely blossomed over the last year. "Makos catch you?"