wrathfulwitch (wrathfulwitch) wrote in _fracture_, @ 2014-05-17 12:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | brett, chapter 2, eris, lavel |
the black knight and the witch
Who: Brett and Eris
Where: his place
When: morning
Brett hadn’t slept all night. He couldn’t believe that he had actually kidnapped a girl from the King’s jail last night. For all that he had no love for the ruler of Lavel, it was still a pretty stupid, if not fatal, move for him to make. Yet here he was, sat in the mouth of the basic, yet cosy cave that served as his home these days, keeping watch over a probably dying woman as the sun rose on a day that he was expected to spend fighting others.
There was a laundry list of reasons why this was a Very Bad Plan.
The morning was broken up by the normal sounds of the forest, though the birds fell silent, and a hush came over the area as a wolf silently edged toward the cave. It was bloody, limping slightly from damage taken the night before, and it’s eyes didn’t leave Brett as the man came into view.
Brett cautiously eyed the wolf. He didn't take his eyes off it either as he reached out sideways for his spare sword - his main weapon having been abandoned in the castle the night before.
A low growl sounded from it’s throat, but it didn’t bear it’s teeth. Instead it kept edging closer, but not to Brett. Instead, it was trying to get closer to the silent figure he’d taken from the dungeon.
Brett climbed to his feet, not openly attacking the wolf, but moving to try and scare it off. "Get, go on. Out of here," he said sternly, as if the wolf would listen to him.
The wolf cleared it’s sinuses, and seemed to gauge the distance between it, the woman, and Brett. Then, in one quick move, it went for the woman, making a leap for her. When it landed, there was a harsh, desperate gasp for air, and the nearly dead brunette moved.
Brett moved when the wolf did, crossing the distance and bringing the broadsword round in a wide arc. He cut through the wolf moments after it landed, practically cutting the thing in half. It fell to the ground, dead and bleeding out, but Brett had got to it before it could hurt the girl.
She let out a harsh, hoarse cry, and she barely pushed herself up on her arms, eyes on the wolf. She reached out, though didn’t touch it, since it was clearly dead. She coughed, curling up as they wracked her thin form. Everything hurt. This was the bad part about coming back to her body. She was dying, she knew that. She was starving to death, she was dying of thirst. It just took much longer because she jumped to to prolong the process. It didn’t reverse anything, however. It just got worse.
"It's okay, it's dead," Brett said, reaching for a rag to clean off his sword, misinterpreting the cry for one of fear.
“You didn’t have to do that!” came the harsh reply, which ended with more coughing. She looked around, disoriented. She didn’t know where she was, or why she was here, or who this guy was. But there were a few priorities that lept to mind. Water. Food. Weapon. Maybe not in that order.
"It was attacking you," Brett said, bluntly. Only, then she was coughing again and Brett belied his edging-on-harsh tone and surly demeanor to spring to get her some water, kneeling by her side to offer her the cup.
For one brief second she wondered if it was poisoned, but in the end she didn’t care. She grabbed the cup and tried to drink it all in one go, figuring at least if she died of poison, she would do it without that gnawing all consuming ache in her gut. It was glorious, for a few moments, but then it seemed like everything in her rebelled, and she wound up wretching.
Brett held her as she did so, one hand on her arm, the other resting against her back, rubbing light circles as he encouraged her to lean forward slightly.
She didn't have the strength to push him off, at least, not yet, and she found she was shaking. God, this was humiliating. She hated this with a passion. She wasn't that girl, that weak little thing that needed someone to hold her up. Only apparently she was now, because she'd been wasting away.
That thought brought her anger welling back up. “I'm going to kill that son of a bitch with my bare hands,” she said in English in a low, harsh tone. Reaching up, she wiped at her mouth, trying to support herself again.
The English surprised him, but maybe it shouldn't. He already knew there were hotel people here. Yet, the rumors of this woman had predated when Adam had apparently arrived. Brett leaned back a little, giving her a bit of space. "Which particular son of a bitch would that be?" Brett asked, switching back to English.
She was surprised when he spoke English, and she blinked at him. Then she cleared her throat, or tried, and shut her eyes a second, trying to clear her head. That was harder than she wanted it to be, but her anger was always there, always easy to reach. “That fucking spineless, double crossing, back stabbing evil jack off that sits on that cheap excuse for a throne,” she said. She realized it was possible that this guy would up and kill her for such slander against the king, but she sort of didn't care.
"Oh. That son of a bitch," Brett deadpanned. He got to his feet and retrieved the water, offering it to her. "Small sips," he instructed, gruffly.
She took the water, listening to his advice, even if it was hard. She still felt like she wanted to guzzle it all and like she was going to be sick again all at once. When she felt slightly better, she focused her attention on him. "Who are you?"
Brett left her, walking off a few paces for distance. "A guy who knows that, whatever you might have done, nothing warrants the way he kept you," he said, facing away from her. It was a fairly neutral statement. He wasn't intending to confess his real opinions about the king any time soon. "My name's Brett."
Sipping more water, she kept her eyes on him. She liked hearing that he disagreed with the conditions of her sentence, though he gave away little. She imagined poker with him would actually be challenging.
"Thanks for not leaving me in that hole," she said, eyes ticking back to the wolf. She wasn't so good with gratitude. But he had set her free after...god. how long? "What year is it?"
"Not got a clue," Brett replied, sounding a little bored. In actual fact, he was frustrated with that fact. People didn't seem to really care what the year was. Not in the absolute terms that he was used to. Everything was relative to everything else.
Eris took a long moment, gathering her wits, which was far harder than it looked. Then she tried to get to her feet. That was ridiculously difficult. She tried to psych herself up to do it, not asking for help at all. She grunted, and eventually made it, even if she was wobbly as hell. "Food," she said, looking out at the daylight. "Then I have a job to do."
Brett moved to catch her as she wobbled, supporting her once again. "A job? You're not going anywhere, Princess. You can barely stand - a meal's not going to fix that. It would be a start though. I have stew on the fire," he said, nodding toward the firepit. There were a couple of bowls set out, ready for them to eat.
"I don't need your help," she insisted, though her physical dependence on him to remain upright claimed otherwise. She eyed the bowls and nodded. "That'll do. But I do have a job to do. I have a king to kill. He made me into the boogeyman, now he's gonna get the full force of that."
Brett simply ignored her claims that she didn't need help and help her anyway, sitting her down and handing her a small bowl of stew and a spoon. "Small bites, not too much at once, or you'll be sick again." Her suggestion that she was going to kill the King was so laughable, he ignored it entirely.
She did as instructed, and was quiet for a time as she took stock of herself. She needed to bathe. She glanced his way. "I need to bathe. Is there a lake or anything near? Do you have anything resembling soap?" She asked, figuring not, but it didn't hurt to ask. Her gaze drifted to the slain wolf, and she reached out to drift her fingers through its fur. "I wish you hadn't done that."
Brett stood and disappeared into the cave, coming out a few moments later with a small leather bag, a large linen towel, and his spare cloak. "There's soap in the bag, and I can take you to the stream. It's not far, and large enough for bathing," he told her, gruffly. He glanced down at the wold corpse, but said nothing about it. He had long ago stopped expecting gratitude from anyone, even if he had saved her life.
She took another bite, feeling like she needed a short break. Her stomach was tender, still queasy though she was guessing the food would do her good. After steeling herself, she managed to get back to her feet. Still unsteady but trying her best, Eris started out of the cave. "If any animals come near again, leave them alone. Even predators."
Brett shadowed her as she walked, Blythe convinced she would make it alone. "If an animal looks like it's going to attack, I'll defend myself." He didn't add the 'and anyone I'm with'. He was nobody's saviour, even if, in reality, that was what he'd do every time.
"They won't be attacking," she told him. "They are drawn to me. So do a girl a favor and don't kill off her friends." She knew how it sounded. She knew it had taken a long time for her to come to terms with it herself.
Brett raised a brow, but then nodded, once. "Noted," he said. He didn't add anything else, though he thought it was strange. Some 'friends' when the girl had been surrounded by their corpses.
She shot him a look, though kept walking. "That's it? Just 'noted'?" she asked. "Whatever, it doesn't matter. I just need to get this done, then I'm out of here." Though as she walked, she knew that was going to be difficult. She felt already like she needed to sit down. It wasn't pleasant in the slightest. It made her feel weak, and she had spent enough time feeling that way. Her entire concentration should be focused on getting her revenge, not whether or not she'd even make it back to the castle today.
He barked a short laugh at that. "You're delusional, Princess. You're not going anywhere." There was no way that she would make it back to the castle, and even if she did, she didn't have the strength to do anything other than get herself killed or captured. Brett didn't intend allowing her to do either.
"Oh no? What, did I trade one captor for another?" she snapped, using the trees they passed to help her keep upright, though she tried her best to make it as unnoticeable as possible. Eris was a proud woman, and she didn't want to look as frail as she figured she was these days. "You planning on tying me up, or trying to get a ransom for me, black knight?" she continued. "Trust me, you want none of this," she gestured toward herself.
"I didn't rescue you just so you could get your bony ass killed," Brett shot back.
"I don't remember asking you!" Eris growled. She did look down at herself for a moment, however, to see how much the 'bony' comment applied. Sadly, it seemed to. Which was too bad, she'd always been happy with her curves. "It's none of your business. So, kindly take your little ideas about what I can and can't do, and shove them directly up your ass."
Brett grabbed her wrists, forcing her to stop and face him. "I'm not going to let you kill yourself, which is what you'd be doing, going after him when you're like this. It's fucking stupid. You can barely even stand. Just what do you think you'll even be able to achieve? You're half dead already!"
It didn't take much to stop her, and while she did actually try to pull back, she got absolutely nowhere. She was weak, and this guy was solid. He was big, had muscles that swung swords easily, and she was very aware that in a physical battle, she lost before they even started. But that didn't stop the defiant spark in her eyes, or the glare she shot him. "Who cares!" she cried. "I certainly fucking don't! I'm not stupid, I know I'm not going to make it that far, I just have to make it far enough! That's all! When I go down, at least I'll do it knowing his fat, lying, betraying, torturing ass isn't sitting on that damn throne!" If only her body were as strong as her convictions.
He didn't let her go, though he wasn't trying to hurt her either. "No, you'll die knowing you failed," he said, calmly. "You'll die before you even reach him, with one of his guard's swords through your belly. Screaming in pain, knowing that he's still sitting on the throne and that that's never going to change." He didn't contradict her assessment of the king. It seemed pretty accurate to him.
She pulled at her wrists again. "Let. Go." she said through clenched teeth. "And not if I go in with enough distraction, and...bears. And wolves. And anything else scary I can get." She knew her plan wasn't formulated well. She got that. Usually she was much more calculating with her operations, but in this case, with all she'd been through, all she cared about was getting her revenge, and then she was done.
He released his hold on her wrists, taking a half step back and looking,see her, assessingly, a friends etched across his face. "Last night. The attacks... that was you? How?"
She took a few steps back from him too, almost overbalanced, and caught herself on a tree. It wasn't his fault, though she wanted to blame him for it. But she knew better, it was just how messed up she was. She started walking again in the direction they'd been heading, thinking she could hear water nearby. "I should tell you why? The last person I told had me condemned as a witch and imprisoned for however long I've been down there."
"There's no such thing as witches," Brett told her, trailing along behind her. "That's superstitious nonsense." He paused, then barked a laugh. "Are you their legendary witch?" he asked.
"Nope. No such thing," Eris said, rolling her eyes. "And yes. I'm their legendary witch," Then she paused. "...jesus, legendary? It's been that long? My perspective is so..." she trailed off. It wasn't there, sort of. Her mind wasn't processing information like it used to. She knew that. And having been jumping from animal to animal for apparently enough time to have become a legend, she had no clue how long she'd been trapped. God, was she an old woman? Was she going to see her face again and see nothing but lines?
"There's been a legend of a witch for longer than I've been here," Brett told her. "I have no idea how long, or if it was always the same witch. I mean, I've been here a decade, and you look... Well, I guess you could have been a teenager when you got here, if you got here not long before I did. But, if the legend didn't fix on one woman, then that wouldn't really matter." He was almost talking to himself now, thinking things through, matching up what he'd heard, with the way that storytelling worked in this kind of era and linking it in with knowledge gleaned from books back in the days when they'd been plentiful and before he got strange looks for being highly literate and not a member of the priesthood.
"I look...?" she asked, wanting better clarification. "Like those people in those...those 'camps' they talked about on the news?" she asked. She listened to him reasoning things out, though she knew he was missing vital information here. "I don't know how long I've been down there, and sure, it's possible that there were other 'witches', it's probably me they're talking about. I was condemned as one. The Prince, once such a great goddamn friend, tried to strangle me to death himself. I was just lucky there was a cat nearby," she said, knowing she would have to explain the cat part.
"You're all skin and bones," he told her, though he frowned when she mentioned camps and the news. "Which camps?" he asked, after a moment of trying to puzzle it out, but then giving that up as a shot in the dark, given that she could have come from anywhere at all. He shook his head. "I don't know - just because you were condemned as a witch, doesn't mean you're the only one. Because, apparently, this 'witch' saved me from certain death and I'm pretty sure you and I have never met." He paused for a beat, then added, "Course, nobody else has saved me from certain death either, so... What I'm saying is that the stories they tell round here don't exactly depend on the truth to get them going. Or keep them going. One thing I can tell you from all of that is that we haven't had a Prince for a pretty long time. Our 'esteemed ruler' hasn't seen fit to have an progeny." He snorted. "No legitimate ones anyhow."
"Oh, good," she muttered to herself. So 'terrible' was how she looked. "The camps, the ones the Germans had, where they were exterminating people," she explained. There was a word they had used but her mind wouldn't spit it out. "A witch saved you?"
"No, a witch didn't save me. People just decided to believe that." It gave them another reason to hate and fear Brett. Like they hadn't had enough already. "People like to talk and they like to believe shit." He fell silent for a moment. "You disappeared in the 1940s? During the Holocaust? That's sixty years before I did," he said, quietly. Time was really starting to screw with his head.
Slowing, she looked back at him. "Sixty years?" She asked, voice quiet. It was a lot to wrap her head around too. "Oh," was all she could really say to that. Time was seriously screwing with her head too. It took her a second to start walking again, and all at once she was feeling her exhaustion more. "Did we win?" She asked.
"Yeah, we won," Brett said dully, mind on the number of people who didn't make it through that war.
She fell silent, the sheer idea of massive culture shock overwhelming her. Luckily, she spotted the stream they were trying to get to. She didn't hesitate a moment, rushing in her not so steady way toward the water. She pulled her clothes off, the material dry rotted and brittle. Then she slipped into the clear and cold water. Even if her teeth chattered almost immediately, she smiled, and dunked her hair into the stream.
Brett turned his back on her as she stripped, giving her some privacy. He waited a moment as she splashed, them lay the cloak down on the bank. "I'll leave this here," he told her, then moved off, walking far enough into the treeline that she'd be alone, but staying near enough that he'd be able to hear if she needed help or got into trouble.
Eris would have loved to bathe for pretty much ever, washing grime away until her skin was red from the scrubbing. But the water was cold, she was still weak, and that forced her to be fairly quick about it. She did stay in longer than she knew she should have, because it felt good. She felt like she managed to get herself clean, including her hair. That done, she got out of the water, and put on the cloak, holding it shut over her nudity. She was shivering and her lips were blue, but she felt better. "Done," she called, smirking faintly to herself.
Brett emerged from the treeline, checking to see that she was actually covered before coming all the way out, though he managed to do that without seeming meek about it. "You can't have been gone for sixty-odd years," he told her. He'd been thinking about it ever since she brought it up. "You can't be more than thirty, tops. I've been here for ten years, and I've aged tens years in that time. It doesn't make sense for you to have been here for twice your lifespan. I don't get how that would even work."
"Are all mysterious black knights in the woods such gentlemen?" she asked, because she had to get that out of her system. Then she started walking, trying to get her teeth to stop chattering. "I think I go into...some sort of sleep, or something, when I'm not here," she said, tapping her temple. "It's how I stayed alive at all while left down there to rot, how I survived being strangled to death," she continued. "Animals aren't only drawn to me, I can...jump my consciousness to them."
Brett didn't understand any of that. He'd never heard of anything like it - and because he didn't understand it on a whole new level of non-understanding, he kept quiet. Instead, he followed on behind her until the camp was in sight. Then he strode ahead, throwing another couple of logs onto his fire and drawing a pallet up closer to it so that she could get properly warm. He didn't know if the 'gentleman' comment was correct, but he wasn't going to let her get sick on his watch.
It was hard not to notice the total dead silence. And, if she knew how it sounded, of course. When he got the fire warmed up, She curled up next to it. Then she looked around. She shut her eyes, grasped the wooden ring, and started seeking. Calling. The first critter to show up was a bunny, and she jumped to it. The bunny shivered a moment, shook itself, then started to hop toward Brett.
Brett had sat himself down a little further away from the fire. Close enough for warmth, but far enough away that he was, well, away from the fire. When the rabbit hopped up to him, he looked down at it, long and hard. Then over to the woman. Then back to the rabbit. "You know generally you're my dinner."
The bunny wiggled it's nose at him, then hopped a little closer, to nudge his foot. Definitely not wild rabbit behavior, outside of a Disney movie. Eris' body remained still, unresponsive, just like she had been when he'd found her.
Okay, that was... definitely weird. And impossible. Or would be if Brett hadn't, say, been transported from modern day England into medieval France and had to live out the last decade as a loathed and distrusted knight. That kind of widened one's sphere of what was and was not believable. "I never said I thought you were lying," he said to the rabbit.
The bunny hopped back over to Eris' prone form, and nuzzled her hand. A moment later, Eris was blinking, and she reached out to pet the bunny as she sat up. "In my experience, proof is better than taking anyone's word for anything," she told him. She did pause and frown as she realized she'd lost her thread. She didn't remember why she'd been talking about it, or what her purpose had been, and she looked away, hating that her mind just didn't work like it used to anymore. "Anyway. I have a job to do," she said, latching back onto that in the hopes that he wouldn't notice her totally losing her train of thought and the thread of the conversation.
"You're not leaving. Not any time soon, anyhow. I didn't save your ass, just so you could go back in there and get yourself killed," Brett told her, though he didn't move a muscle from where he was seated.
"So what did you save it for, exactly?" she asked. "Are you planning on keeping me against my will?" Had she asked that already? It felt familiar, but she didn't know for certain. "I have one goal, one thing to do in this shitty world. What are you going to do to stop me?"
"I saved it because then you actually get a life," Brett pointed out, not giving an inch. "As for what I'll do to stop you? I think I can take you - if I have to. I'd prefer not though."
"But I don't get to do with it what I want?" Eris posed. "What the fuck are you playing at?"
"You're going to get yourself killed," Brett growled out at her.
"And?" she posed. "Look, you're late to the Eris party, here. But think of it this way. Whenever you're really from? I'd be dead already anyway. In this time line, I should be dead. Maybe I did die, it's possible I did. All I know is that son of a bitch really fucked me up. I...he just did. So, thank you so much for your bravery and heroism, but it can be done now. You saved me! Good for you! But what happens to me is no longer your concern, you did your part."
Brett looked unimpressed. "So, this is all about actually just wanting to die then?" he posed right back. "Because no way in hell are you going to be able to get anywhere near close enough to kill him. Even if you turn yourself into a fucking golden eagle and fly right into that damn castle. You do this and you're going to die. He's not. It's a waste of fucking time and if that's your only plan, then I may as well run you through with my sword right now."
"Kill him, then die," she said. "I'll figure it out. How about you don't worry about it?" She wasn't concerned with his bit about running her through. He could try. And hell, he might succeed, too, but oh well. She had her mission.
“How about you take some time. Get stronger. Y’know - enough that you can actually consistently support you own weight and take more than a couple of paces before falling against a damn tree. Then go on your mission. He’ll still be there,” Brett pointed out, reasonably.
“I'm going to spend that time where?” she posed. “Maybe you've found your niche here. Maybe you...why the fuck are you living in a cave?” she asked, breaking into her own train of thought.
“It’s not a cave. Or, sure - there’s a cave, but… it’s not just that,” Brett almost protested. He’d done a lot of work on this place over the past five years. There was a pretty nifty lean to out the front and all in all, it worked well for him. Plus, it was warm and cosy inside. He’d had apartments that were a lot shittier, that was for certain.
Eris merely gave him a Look, waiting.
Brett returned the look with a glare. “They don’t like me in town,” he ground out.
“You're a knight,” she said, then frowned, something else itching at her brain that didn't add up. “You said...” she tried to remember exactly what, but instead just went with the sentiment. “Something about a witch saving you?” She didn't know if that had anything to do with anything, but she knew they sure didn't like witches there.
He sighed. He didn’t like going into his past. “They thought me guilty of murder and wanted me dead. Things… It didn’t go that way. I left town. They decided I was in league with the witch. Or the devil. Or both. Whatever it was, doesn’t really matter. So, I live out here. Only go into Lavel for tournaments. They put up with me then - probably a good draw, having the murdering ‘black knight’ around. Up the drama.”
She rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what he meant there. “Who did you kill?” she asked. “And I'm guessing from your wording, you didn't do it,” she added. She'd caught the 'thought me guilty' bit.
“It’s complicated,” he said, in a tone of voice that was quite clear that what he was really saying was ‘don’t ask me about it’.
“Everything is,” she returned, and waited. Either he would clam up, or he'd give, she was going to wait and see which it was.
Brett didn’t answer. Instead, he got to his feet and retrieved another log from the neat pile at the side of the clearing, returning to throw it on the fire, causing sparks to jump up and play in the air. He picked up his sword as he sat back down again and, taking up his whetstone, started to sharpen it in long, regular strokes.
Eris found the cup she'd used previously, some more water, and drank a little more. The bunny who'd come to see her was still there, snuggled up to her. She kept absently petting it, eyes on him. “Well, Knight in Black Armor, it's been great,” she told him. “Have a good life.” She stood, steadier than she had been before, even if she knew she was still weak. She started out of the cave.
Brett inwardly sighed. Stubborn fucking woman. “It’s a three mile walk back to town,” he called out to her, still working on sharpening his sword. He made sure his tone was bored, disinterested, hoping he could get her to give up without him having to force the issue.
“Okay,” she said. She also dropped the cloak she'd been wearing, since it was his. Which left her naked, but whatever. She was going to see who was going to break here too. She kept walking out of the cave, taking it slower than she liked, but it made her steadier on her feet, which she felt helped her argument. It was complete bullshit, but still.
He kept on taking those long, measured strokes along the blade of his broadsword with the whetstone. “You won’t get past the river. It flows too fast to ford, and the only bridge is guarded by the Kings men, collecting tolls.” Which, actually, was complete and utter bull, but no way she would know that.
“That's what bears are for,” Eris called over her shoulder as she got further away. Just...extremely slowly. “Also? I'm naked. No one would know me on sight anymore,” she pointed out.
“You’re naked. Either they’ll arrest you on sight for public indecency. Or they’ll rape you and throw your body into the river. Either way, you lose,” Brett said, still with that same disinterested tone. It seemed as if his entire attention was given over to his sword. In actual fact, he knew exactly where she was, and he was poised to go after her at any moment.
“Bears it is, then,” she said, sounding unconcerned. Even if she was. That scenario didn't at all seem like one she wanted to be in. She also wanted to tell him that her powers of seduction were strong, but she still had no idea what she actually looked like right now, and she was still guessing 'bad'. So, she couldn't actually rely on that.
Brett didn’t say anything. There was no way she would actually make it back to town anyway. He had hoped to dissuade her entirely, but he figured that if he tried to keep her here, she would just keep trying to escape. So, instead, he let her go. He’d tail her, he knew. He could move pretty much silently through these woods by now. She could go, he would follow, and when she realised she couldn’t go on, he’d bring her back. Maybe she’d learn something.