OOC: Tags to goblins!
Their screams had rung like a bell.
Gong. Gong. Gong.
Much like the sound that echoed across the square.
Gong. Gong. Gong.
It had been over a year since the incident when the mordecai forces under the Allarrick family name had been slain. Rebels. Heathens. Killers. He had only just begun his training. He had been so young, just thirteen, but had been well on his training to be a soldier long before.
But the mordecai of Allar were another breed of warriors all together, and were greedily kept on their lands unless the Grand Duke did his best to persuade the Duke of Allar, other wise. But Zannrick's powers were find out when he was quite young. His Aunt through marriage had been a mage and suffered through some terrible fits of electric shock- But when Zannrick was just a boy and near her-
She had been all but cured. It didn't take long for them to figure out who was responsible.
Living in Allar he was brought forth before the crown, where Duke Allarrick was still training his son and only heir to fight among the mordecai elite. At first he thought his son, Calent, had been a mordecai himself, but it was then brought to his attention he was simply there to train with those elite. His father spared no expense to make his son the best at what he could.
Being similar in age, the two bonded easily, and it seemed they had similar view on the mage problem. Naturally, the pair were groomed well by their father's.
Zannrick was showing great progress and promise within the mordecai. It seemed his mordecai range was a potent one, if not a little stingy in the area it covered, but one that seemed to make even enchanted weapons waver. He was also becoming quite brilliant with his sword, having learned a lot from his own father, (one who had been a serving captain in the Allarrian army) and was always, ALWAYS close to the Allarrian crown. It was in such a way they were much more loyal to their own duke over the Grand Duke- the Grand Duke appearing just as a 'name' that had as much value as air. It was there, it was accepted- and also necessary.
Calent hadn't remained long with the mordecai before he had to be carted off for further education elsewhere. There was mention, something about the young duke to be going to the fell with his family, something more secret that only those of his blood line would come to know.
But so much happened to the guard while he was gone- for Calent and his father had only left a few months when the mordecai had been attacked- Zannrick being one of the few who had survived. The entire training grounds had been compromised, and it took many years to rebuild it to what it had once been.
They stationed the new training grounds further west than North, and the bells were ringing at the presentation of a new set of men (and women) to train. So far, those around him had all been men, men with the gift- so when a new set of trainees came along and it was announced their would be a woman among them- Zannrick had to wonder just what this meant, and how good could a woman truly be?
He had never been exposed to a woman fighter, but had seen a few mordecai and lilies in passing to know they looked as imposing as all the rest. But the first time he saw Alanna Lowe, he couldn't help but scoff. She was younger than he, a pretty, scrawny little thing who was simple in looks and he had to wonder if she was simple in her head. A lot of the other men of course held many initial prejudice; and in so doing, planted the seed for he.
He couldn't have known what to expect, but as he joined his men in full line up at the barracks, he waited, sweating beneath his armor in the mid-day son, anxiously waiting to meet the new recruits-
and also the new young woman who was meant to he treated as an equal to he.
The new recruits were marched in under the barking orders of one of the captains. They were sweaty and tired beneath their training leathers, having been run ragged all morning runs before being introduced to their senior Mordecai soldiers. The group of younglings were disorganized and tense. Fights had already broken out the night before among them as some of the burlier members attempted to break in the smaller and weaker looking recruits. The brawl had in turn led to the entire contingent being punished by being made to run from dusk until dawn, hauling grain sacks from the grainary to the mess hall and back again as a deterrent from fighting again in the future.
With empty bellies and heavy tongues thirty for water, the straggly group shifted about anxiously praying that they would at last be permitted to break now that the sun was high its resting place in the sky. Many of the senior soldiers eyed the new recruits, making silent bets among themselves as to would turn out to be the underdog and who would be kicked down several notches before finally getting it through his thick skull that he was not the hero of his little village anymore.
Among the recruits was a slightly worse for wear, Alanna Lowe. Her left eye was dark purple and swollen shut and her bottom lip was split and swollen in two places. The knuckles of both hands also sported several dark bruises and still bleeding scuffs that told the unspoken story that she too had been involved in the scuffle. Despite her injuries and having been run ragged she still stood tall before the screaming of her commanding officer. He made sure to dress them down extra for the amusement of the gathered soldiers, calling them all sorts of foul names and even roughing some of them up when their attention seemed to waver.
He couldn't believe what he saw. These were the most horrible looking batch of new recruits he'd ever seen (and he thought he'd seen them all!) He almost hadn't even recognized there was even a girl among the crew, but when his eyes first set upon her, he couldn't look away.
She was filthy, sweaty, with her clothing sticking to her body in a disagreeable way. her lips were fat from a fight, and she had sticky, itching looking wounds that he just knew she'd let go to fester. Even with her swollen eye, he couldn't picture any ounce of a pretty lady behind her.
He should have known the first mordecai girl would be nothing more than a male soldier wannabe. He snorted and the soldier beside him made a quiet gesture as well. And it seemed in a matter of minutes, all eyes were upon her.
But whatever attention was gained was knocked out of them as their commanded was off barking orders.
"These are your new recruits! They will be living with you, eating with you, shitting with you and training with you. They'll even have to share beds with you. And they will be sloppy, they will be as unrefined as you see them now. But in time... they, like yourselves, will be molded into the most elite soldiers this country has ever seen. We all started this way.. a shitted up mess of nothing."
The mordecai laughed.
"So don't be too hard on your new brothers." And the man paused to observe Alanna. "And your new sister." And he paused long enough for all of them to follow his gaze and take her in.
"Genders do not matter here. We are mordecai. We are the future of our country and we are few, and we are proud. Now, take to sounding off. Name yourselves down your ranks, mordecai!" And the line up of men began, from the most seasoned and down the line until it came to Zannrick's turn, and his blue eyes were fastened onto the girl's.
"Sir Zannrick Austengarde of Tamilee." It seemed he was one fo the few from the village just north of the capital city- one where the Duke of Allar's family kept their summer home. It was the second most wealthiest city in the duchy.
The names continued to sound off down the line and then it was the new recruits turn to introduce themselves.
"Sound off, new men!"
The mention of a sister only served to make Alanna openly roll her eyes. Yes she was a woman but Ansgar give her strength because they were driving her insane by making such a point of constantly pointing her out. What difference did it make what she lacked between her legs? She was a Mordecai and that is where the scrutiny should have ended for her. But no she had to suffer a thousand stares and unspoken words about her person and her capabilities. All of this she took with stubborn solidarity as she stood ramrod straight with her head held high.
The introductions themselves were relatively boring until a certain pompous asshole with his high and mighty tone sounded off revealing that he indeed was from as affluent a region as his perfect unblemished face screamed he was. Alanna could not keep the amusement from her face and as she snorted softly and smirked. She was already imagining how prissy his morning routine probably was when she looked up and noticed upon her. Not one to back down from a challenge she clearly dared him back with her eyes, silently asking what he was going to do about her.
Her gaze did not once falter from his though once it was locked on, not even when she was the last one left to call her name. "Alanna Lowe of Grover's Hollow," she called out firmly, her voice low but steady. She felt no shame in representing her very small and very poor village. They were farming peoples and had suffered much with poor weather, infertile soils, and low crop yields, but it was home and she was going to do her family proud as a Mordecai.
"You mean Groveler's Hole!" barked back one of the new recruits as he shoved her from behind and laughed. "They must truly be scraping from the bottom of the barrel if they're recruiting whores as soldiers now," he pressed onward, not noticing the way Alanna's eyes flashed in warning and her posture stiffened. She already knew from first hand experienced how much of a preening peacock Jacoby was. After all it was he that had started the brawl the night before when he dared insult the youngest of their group, forcing Alanna to stand in the boy's defense. The moment fists began to fly though Jacoby had fled so as to not have his perfect face ruined and instead ran and told their commanding officer, getting the lot of them into hot water.
"Watch your tongue, Jacoby lest you trod on it with all your wagging," she bit back, refusing to even turn and face him.
Alanna should have stilled her tongue, for the man taking out of order,a nd against order, was quickly reprimanded as their commanding officer marched before him with a purpose,and moved to strike the new recruit across the face with the butt end of the commander's sheath.
Unfortunately, Alanna was not spared for having spoken too, out of turn; as the sheath met to her with one quick strike.
"No one here talks out of turn! We are not peasants or dogs, but soldiers. No.." he paused to shake his head. "We are more than that. We are the elite. The mordecai..."
He lowered his sheathed weapon and shook his head.
"But the lot of you are not. You are only... just 'in-training'. No... you low lives still need to earn your title, earn your rank and earn your respect." His eyes had been on every man int he room, trailing over Zannrick once before looking back more heavily upon Jacoby and Alanna.
"The pair of you will see me in my office. The rest of you may break before the night rounds. Just remember your stations and remember the rules." And the man paused to laugh. "And it is I who make the rules, and it is only I who can choose to break them. Any further out bursts or instances will be met with strict repercussions. Do you understand?"
"Yes! Yes, sir!" came the unified response.
Their commander took them all in in their line with a series of nods.
"Good... You may all.." he went on, with a casual wave of his hand. "Disperse."
but he caught the eyes of Jacoby and Alanna- a look that meant follow.
Her head cracked to the side with the abusive strike but she otherwise kept her mouth shut. It was a mark of pride for her that she was able to take the hit like a man whereas Jacoby screamed like a girl and clutched his face dramatically. His was the only voice did not join the contingent's in responding to their commanding officer, a face that did not go unnoticed by aforementioned soldier.
As the men were dismissed, Alanna quickly fell in line behind Commander Reyshek with Jacoby quickly on her heels and purposely shoving and knocking into her whenever the officer was not looking. He marched them from the barracks to his private quarters and into his strategy office, closing the door behind him in disgust.
"I will not have this. I simply will not have this, do you understand me? We are not sniveling dogs! We do not fight for scraps like bitches in heat! And we certainly do not demean the honor of our station by engaging in in-fighting. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir!" both recruits barked back immediately.
"Lowe is a member of the Mordecai, same as you Winstonson. You will afford your comrade in arms the same respect you would afford any other member among the recruits. Don't think for one second I give a damn who your father is or how much money your family has invested in this duchy. Here you're nothin' more than wormfeed until I say otherwise. As punishment for your continued lack of brains the two of you will be placed on a special program to knock some common sense into your thick heads. You will each be paired with a mentor who will show you how to properly obey our rules here. You will bunk with them, you will bathe with them, you will shit when they shit and do what they do when they do it and how they do it until I say otherwise! Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Winstonson you're with Cranig," Reyshek barked, nodding to another man who had been standing quietly on guard in the corner. At the mention of his name, Cranig grinned a most evil toothy grin that sent shivers down even Alanna's spine. If Winstonson got that troll she could only imagine what horrors the martinet had planned for.
"As for you Lowe, you're to report to Austengarde since you seemed to find him so amusing earlier. Cranig inform Zannrick of his new assignment and get this filth out of my office!" the man growled, dismissing them all as Cranig all but dragged Jacoby out and Alanna followed closely behind while mentally cursing her unfortunate luck that paired her with the very man she knew would likely make her want to eat glass rather than deal with.
Zannrick hadn't gone to the barracks. Too many of his fellow men would be there and he found their company often times and annoyance or a bore. Instead, before their evening practice, he went for a warm up on his own. Swordplay needed to be handled daily, and not just that, but several times a day. He was the only one that would keep it up, early morning, evening, noon and night. Whenever he could, he was always swinging his blade, trying to force his body to take in the blade as one with his hand.
Strike forward, thrust-pass, slide. Guard, cut short, cut down, stab.
His moves were more like dances, and sometimes they were. He had been to enough balls to be able to handle the moves known for etiquette and parlay, but aside from that, he took to his own form of exercise, keeping nimble, and now drawing his blade up in a one leg up and limbs at their tallest type of stretch.
Then he'd carry the blade back again and lung forward, body rolling fluidly and feet seeming to carrying him with barely moving off the ground. The he'd lung, and work out a run, practicing counters against the dummies along the sparring walls before throwing himself at the nearest wall and kicking up and off of it, somersaulting and coming back down to land a blade straight and true through the dummies upper chest-
Though as he observed it through heavy pants, it seemed he only hit the thing through the shoulder. He cursed at his inaccuracy and yanked out his blade with a scowl.
Cranig had brought the pair to Zannrick just in time to see him in the final stages of his mock battle. The end result though caused Alanna to snicker quietly under her breath, earning herself an elbow to the ribs and a glare care of Cranig.
"Austengarde!" the man barked, grabbing Alanna by the forearm and dragging her forward. "You've been given a special assignment," he continued with a cruel smirk before shoving her into Zannrick. "Commander says it's your job to break the new recruit in. Wherever you go, she goes. Whatever you do, she does. Congrats on the new duckling." Cranig snickered as he relayed the news, truly believing he had the better end of the deal by not being stuck with the battered woman.
Zannrick turned with a blue eyed glare, and before he knew it, he was catching the woman in his arm as Cranig literally shoved her his way. But his confusion was short lived as he realized what the man said, and he moved away from Alanna, whom he had ensured could stand on her own, before glaring death stares at the other man.
"What are you talking about? Why did you bring this woman to me?"
Alanna straightened herself as soon as she was able to. She remained silent at Zannrick's side even as Winstonson snickered and Cranig blinked innocently. "Why these two got themselves in a spot o' trouble last night in a scuffle. Whereas the others seem ta have learned their lessons, these two have yet to learn to hold their tongues. As such Commander's decided to give them a spot of the special treatment if you will. Seems he thought you'd be fittin' for the job. Got a problem, take it up with him. I'm sure he'd love to hear it, Austengarde." Cranig sneered as he grabbed his recruit by the arm and dragged him off, barking orders off as he went. It was Zannrick's problem now and he was not about to stick around to experience the aftermath.
Zannrick made a disgusted face and turned sharply to Alanna.
"Explain yourself at once," he growled. He hadn't the patience for this, even if it was an order- that of which he was still skeptical about.
The female Mordecai raised a brow in disenchantment at her elder. She could not believe that he was seriously asking her for an explanation after being given one twice already. "Are you really that dumb?" she asked, unafraid of any reprimand he might bestow upon her. "You were given an order to oversee my training as a punishment to me for defending a young recruit and then standing up for myself." Alanna crossed her arms over chest, staring Zannrick down, daring him to ask her to repeat it all again.
Zannrick scowled and shoved her away.
"How dare you talk to me like that. Even a common idiot would question this charge. Getting the death sentence sounds far more appealing than.." his eyes flickered over her form. "Than keeping a woman like you."
She took a step back at the shoving but retained her balance. Zannrick was proving to be exactly the type of man she had pegged him as. He was a conceited pretty-boy with little honor or care for the person she was beyond being the only present female Mordecai.
"Well it seems that talking to you like that was the only way I could make an idiot like you understand what you've been told three times now. I would think though that a superior member of the Mordecai would have learned to follow orders without question by now. Perhaps though having you as my mentor is as much a punishment for you as it is me."
Alanna scoffed and shook her head in disgust. Of course she would be paired with a dud who would not only had her at his mercy but who would likely get her into more trouble than she already was in.
"Look I understand you don't like me. I don't like you either. But at the very least you could man the hell up and deal with this situation. I'm not looking for trouble. I already have enough of it being different than the rest of you," she spat, angered by her own gender that made her life as a new Mordecai so difficult. "I'm here to learn. If you're going to impede me then then just stay the fuck out of my way. Otherwise, teach me."
What a tongue she had! And he hated she was right.
"Then grab a blade. If you're to follow me like a shadow, then you're here to train as much as I am."
"Finally," she hissed under her breath as she cautiously took up a sword and moved to stand to the left of him. Alanna did not trust him to not suddenly try to attack her when her back was turned or when she was without a weapon. Instead she awaited his lead, keeping her blade before her in a defensive guard but otherwise lowered safely.
Silent and tall, Zannrick observed the woman, taking in every inch of her that he could. She looked rough, he wondered if she fought rough, or even had a good idea of a blade at all. No... those eyes spoke with some fierceness, and her attitude boasted at least some skill.
But what of her hands? He moved to smack at her blade, testing the waters, testing her hold.
The blade remained firmly in her hand. She parried back with a strong backhand before allowing her blade to rest in front of her again. Alanna was not about to leave herself open even as she circled slightly to keep her weak side away from him. She was a strong woman after years of working on a farm and defending her home from the wilds and bandits alike.
"You know," she commented off-hand. "If you spent less time prancing about you might have actually hit the dummy's heart. I mean it wasn't even a moving target."
His eyes narrowed, and he moved to smack at her blade again.
"The idea was to hit it while prancing,"he snarled. "Anyone can hit a dummy while they stand still and thrust a blade at it. Where's the challenge in that?" And he came at her again, this time, swinging his sword up sharp and high, towards her face, as if trying to slap her with his blade.
Alanna rolled her eyes and blocked before using her lunge to shoulder him backwards. She pressed her advantage against him, swinging for his unguarded side. "There's a difference between a ballroom and an actual fight, sir. There's no need to look like a show pony when trying to defend your very life," she hissed, bracing herself for his next move.
Zannrick smacked her swing back, sharply defending making it almost seem like she could have gotten through. But his moves were quick, years of practicing already under his belt, before he slid his blade roughly across hers in a push to keep her back.
"Come at me when you know the difference, but I have a feeling you're inexperienced in both. Of course we're here to defend our lives and many more, but do you honestly think battles are limited to the field?"
"Do I look like someone who would ever attend a ball?" she growled back, feeling his strength begin to force her backwards. "I'm a former farmgirl turned Mordecai from Grover's Hollow not some prissy, pretty-face from a monied family like you!" She grunted as he succeeded in fully knocking her back, their blades ringing as they broke apart from each other. Alanna landed on her rear with a grunt while scrambling to raise her blade to protect herself from a possible oncoming assault.
And there was an oncoming assault as Zannrick wanted to keep her down. He event put his whole weight into it as she snarled.
"Yes, it's already been established you're poor as dirt. But even a sorry sod like you was blessed by Ansgar." He smacked at her blade before pulling back to let her finally have the chance to get off of the dirt. "Stop shaming yourself. Or biting into your title. I've acquired my skills from practice alone, and once you stop keeping yourself back where you've come, you'll be be able to stand and grow strong, and be worthy at the end of my blade."
No, this was insulting, and he lowered his blade with a glare.
"You need washed up." He wasn't about to have some damn apprentice follow him like a lost dog looking like some mutt. "Get yourself out of the dirt and bathe, girl."
His words stung. Alanna was used to people putting her down and demeaning her perhaps even to the point of believing it all herself. But, hearing him say that she essentially should take more pride in what she was, hurt. She had always been proud to be a Lowe and a Mordecai. Even coming from the poor farmland of Grover's Hollow meant something to her and she took pride in that too despite what it may have meant for others.
Instead of pulling herself from the dirt she merely moved up to her knees and rested there with her palms on her thighs. "And how do you propose I do that, sir," she all but spat, "when I am not permitted to go anywhere where you yourself are not present. If I am to bathe then you must be there bathing. If I am to sleep then you must be there sleeping. Commander made it quite clear that whatever you do, I must do and nothing else."
At least the woman followed instructions- to some degree, or she wouldn't have come here. Had she kept her temper in check, and followed instructions before as she did now, they both wouldn't be here and be punished. He had to wonder what he had done to deserve this, but did it matter now?
His eyes narrowed poisonously.
"I will not keep a dirty peasant. Get up. We're going to bathe." Even if he wasn't in need of a bath, he'd shove her into the waters himself if he had to to scrub off that piss poor attitude from her as well.
Alanna was on her feet again quickly. She paused in following his orders, only to replace her blade back to where she had gotten it from. Once that was done though she was quick to follow him if only a half-step behind and to the side. Alanna kept her head down as they went, her face impassive as she endured the stares and murmured comments once they had passed by the other soldiers. All she cared about though was getting through her training in one piece. Her mouthing-off incident would not be her first indiscretion, of that she was nearly positive but at least if she played along long enough they would let her be and finally train her properly.
Not all barracks could boast what amenities this one offered, but the duchy of Allar spared no expense when it came to their mordecai. It was with good reasons they were known for bringing in the strongest haul and the most in numbers. This one was no exception, as Zannrick lead the woman through the halls and towards an area clearly noted as The Bathing House.
It wasn't just a place to wash up with simple copper baths in whcih one scrubbed, for as Zannrick opened the door and lead the woman inside, she'd see there was an entire pool laid before them, steaming gently from a fire pit brewing beneath it- and it was large enough to fit a good many men within it- though none of which occupied it at the moment. It was a communal bath, none for men or women, but both. Mordecai were seen as equal partners in this war, and equals as soldiers. One had to wonder if places like these were meant to have the females breeding witht he men here- after all, it put them in such a vulnerable position. That of which Alanna would soon find out.
He didn't wait to give her any orders, but began to clip off his heavy armor, unlacing boots and setting them neatly aside. No doubt her undressing would be much easier than his, and he paused to steal a peak her way- just to be certain she was... well, obliging.
She entered behind him, pausing only for a moment to eye the water warily before finally shrugging to herself and stepping further into the room. The thought of Zannrick possibly taking advantage of her never even crossed her mind, though the same could not be said of other men. Her mentor had a stick too far up his rear in her opinion to do anything dishonorable. Besides, Alanna had grown up with brothers and had often gone swimming nude with them and without a care in the world.
A heartbeat after Zannrick started, Alanna made quick work of divesting herself her clothing. Her clothes were neatly folded and placed in a pile beside her boots with care. She would wash them later as she had no current replacements with her. Alanna did not fancy the notion of wearing soaking wet clothing that revealed the entirety of her figure to every man in the barracks that dared look her way.
She was about to slip right into the inviting waters when she recalled her instructions to obey and follow Zannrick. Without him in the water she could not go in. Gritting her teeth, Alanna raised her head and squared her shoulders in a stance of attention, unwilling to allow her nakedness to embarrass her or get her into trouble.
Where she was prideful, so was he, keeping himself at a stance of indifference, even as he faced the naked woman before him. He picked up a soap bar nearest to him and tossed it her way. "Into the waters and scrub well," he told her, before moving to procure a bar for himself.
The waters weren't deep, but served their purpose well enough as he stepped in, glancing just once towards the doors as if to ensure the pair would be left alone. He didn't want to have to deal with the other men barking at a naked woman. It was bad enough he had to command her to bathe, and bathe along side her.
He was already working up a good, white soapy lather against his skin when he turned his attentions back to her and took in her body with scrutiny. For a woman, she needed some work. the bath would help plenty, but soap couldn't scrub out what was seething from her form. Pride. It could be poison. Perhaps he had it too, but this was meant to be her punishment, not his own. And he felt no remorse for his own pride. His, he felt, was at least well warranted. Her's? It was evidently barbaric.
"Be sure every inch is clean." The last thing he wanted to see was her soiling the bed linens on her first night, especially under his watch.
Alanna slid into the water quietly, quickly going to work on herself. She was not oblivious to Zannrick's looks but she pretended she was as she kept her eyes to herself and scrubbed her skin until it was lobster red. Every nook and cranny was scrubbed to within an inch of its life from the places behind her ears to between her toes and under her nails. If Alanna was going to be forced to take a bath then she damn well was going to use it and enjoy it to get clean.
She did forget herself slightly as she tilted her head back and began to scrub her long fiery hair. A soft sigh of pleasure and a smile crept across her features as her eyes fluttered closed and her long mane was finally free of sweat and dirt. Bless Angsar it felt good to be clean!
He didn't need the bath so much as he and was utilitarian about it. But the moment he heard her moan, he felt himself tense and the type of tension shift. And for the life of him he couldn't understand how nor why he gaped. Or how unfortunately warm his body felt.
Despite himself, he was a man. A young one. And too high strung. But discipline crawled out from his staring numbness like a threatening hornet as he looked away and began to rinse himself off excessively. Maybe the extra water would wash off the damn embarrassment presenting itself beneath the waters.
Once rinsed, he was quick to turn his back on her and wade over towards a folded towel, though he remained in the waters, he began to dry off his face, sighing into the towel as he did.
Alanna wrung out her long locks of hair, thrilled to have scrapped off every bit of grime and ounce of displeasure at the day with it. When she opened her eyes though some of her earlier feelings returned like a fish to the face with the sight of her mentor's strong back facing her. With an unseen roll of her eyes and a deep sigh of irritation, she waded up beside him, elbows brushing his as the young woman reached forward to collect a towel of her own.
She wiped her face off first before bending forward over the edge of the communal bath so that she could wrap her fiery mane up to dry. As she twisted the fabric about, her head turned and she unintentionally caught sight of his soldier standing in partial salute. Alanna blinked but didn't allow her gaze to linger, although she did suddenly note how her position caused her ample chest to hang and with her hair now contained, the curve her back was on full display.
'So much for unaffected.'
He wouldn't look. No, he wasn't.
At least that's what Zannrick kept telling himself. But against his own will, he caught himself catching a few long glances at her form.
He stepped out of the water, letting the cool air hit his wet form, the towel still dabbing away at the water of his face before he began to scrunch it through his hair.
"Good, you're clean enough. Now be sure to dry well. It would hardly do to slip into clothes with half the bathe soaking it from your hair."
He tossed a second towel at her.
She had so much hair she was a lion. The look he gave her now was near a sneer.
"Hurry up. We mustn't waste more time."
And he moved away to towel the rest of himself off as he stood before a fresh press of clothes. When he felt he was sufficiently dry, only then did he set his towel aside and begin to slip into his unbutton collared shirt and reach for his leggings.
And then he had to go and open his damn mouth. Her eyes flashed with seething fury that she kept barely contained by biting her tongue hard enough to draw blood. The pain may have temporarily gave her caution, the copper taste though made her fiery-temper flare back all the stronger.
"I am not a child sir. I am more than capable of understanding the concepts of cleanliness and drying oneself. What's next? Going to instruct me how to put clothes on my person as if I have not done so for many years now? Or do you assume learned at your dimwitted pace, sir?"
Alanna huffed, dragging herself fully out of the water and using the second towel to quickly dry the rest of herself off. She dressed quickly before finally allowing her voluminous mane of hair free of the towel and throwing the sopping thing right into Zannrick's face. If she was lucky perhaps the man would drown from so little water.
Zannrick was already dressed in his tunic and pants when the sopping when towel was thrown into his face, plastering to it and suctioning good, soapy and tight. Growling, he ripped the thing off and cast the towel aside, thick waters from the towel now forced his shirt ,and parts of his pants, to stick to his muscled skin beneath.
He immediately snapped at her, grabbing onto her arm roughly, teeth bared.
"What do you think you're doing?" He growled, his once towel dried hair a dribbling mess about his face.
Alanna didn't even bat at an eye at his outburst. She shook her arm loose instead and began the task of unwrapping her hair to section it for braiding into one long ginger rope. "Clearly treating people the way they treat others, sir. Do onto others as you'd have them do onto you sound familiar? No? Most be all your time spent on your back rather than your knees then."
The anger inside well up like a bubbling and poisonous acid pool. How dare she speak to him that way. He could have slapped her, hit her and it almost seemed like he would, hand clenched and tensed, have raised at his side. Instead, he picked up her sop of a towel and returned the favor in kind.
"No messing around, " he told her as a growl through his teeth. "Now present yourself so I can dismiss you from the bath. "
Alanna crossed her arms over her chest, hip cocking to the side some as a pale brow raised in disbelief and disgust. "Dismiss me? Seriously? I'm still stuck with you after this. What is even the point, sir?"
Zannrick hated that that statement was fact, but ground his teeth anyway.
"We have procedures here, rules to follow, no matter your view of them. And you'd do best to mind your tongue. Your rank doesn't allow for such casual phrasing and disregard for order. "
"And I am following those procedures, sir. I cannot be dismissed, so I cannot present myself for dismissal. I have followed every one of your orders and respectfully," she stated with venom that felt anything but respectful, "await your next orders and direction, sir."
Zannrick was about ready to explode. He was already less than thrilled about their partnership and it was as if he were being punished for her insolence earlier. No..he ground his teeth and swallowed down his pride.
She wasn't worth his rage. That anger...
It's meant for... them.
Sighing, he moved to stand at attention.
"Very well.." he began after a time, words tart but he managed to keep the gravel out.
"Follow me."
He was too frustrated to simply call it an early night and there was nothing further dictating their agenda.
"Let's take a walk."
And he turned from her briskly and once he was certain the pair were ready for travel, he set out towards the back gate.
Alanna fell into step two paces behind him at his order like a perfect little soldier. Or rather it would have been perfect if she hadn't been busy making disgusted faces behind his back. Her eyes crossed or lips drew back in a sneer. Thankfully he seemed distracted by...whatever it was that people like him with logs rammed up their tears thought about in the empty void they called their brains.
She rolled her eyes so hard she nearly gave herself a headache to realize this wasn't going to be a simple walk back to quarters but something likely far longer and more time-consuming.
"Permission to speak sir?" Alanna huffed out.
He often went for a walk to clear his head, especially when cooling off. Now was more than the right time to try to curb that temper- for despite his aversion towards her.. towards this, it was hammered into him to be honor bound to his country.
But when she spoke, he felt his brow twitch. He fully aimed to ignore her, but not wanting her to repeat herself (for he found that idea more repulsive) he nodded curtly and said, "permission granted. " But why did saying it, or simply the act of spitting out those words, feel like pulling teeth?
Alanna took a grounding breath before continuing. "Is there a point to this nightly sojourn sir or is this just your attempt to punish and break me further, sir?"
Zannrick paused in midstride and turned around suddenly to face her.
"Are you so broken the simple act of walking brings you pain?"
For Ansgar's sake, they had barely even gotten anywhere and she was complaining and whining it was punishment?
She wasn't going to last long here, that much was obvious.
"I never stated I was in pain." She replied calmly, chin raised defiantly. "And you failed to answer my question sir. Is there a point to this?"
"Pain can be interpreted in many ways," came his smooth reply. "Obviously you're irritated." He shot her a look, but they kept walking. "And yes there is. First of all, soldiers obey orders. They're to trust their superiors and keep in line." He eyed her before turning away, their path leading towards a trail that began to incline.
"If you can't trust your superiors, those in charge, than you have no business being in the army. We're all here for the same common goal. "
He shot her another look.
"Are you questioning your superiors motives?" He asked sternly.
"Blind faith in authority gets you killed," she intoned back without backing down. The incline they walked bothered her none as she easily kept pace. "A superior's respect from his subordinates is earned not demanded through his actions not his words."
Zannrick actually gave a small smile at that remark but said nothing, rather he continued to lead her upwards on the winding path until the pair found themselves stepping out onto of the tall hillside that overlooked the barracks.
Zannrick stopped nearest the more cliff like edge of the hill they had climbed and studied rhe busy barracks below.
"What do you see down there," Zannrick asked, clasping his hands behind his back.
Alanna rolled her eyes at his silence knowing she was right and more importantly that she knew HE knew she was right. The path uphill was not difficult and so by the time she reached the top her breath was still flowing easily through her breast.
Below them small campfires and torches flickered in the night. Soldiers milled about all with purpose within their set confines of operation. There was a quiet buzz if one listened closely to the conversation and orders being passed about.
"A hive," she responded.
Zannrick studied the barracks but said no further, letting the thrum of the atmosphere continue. Men were still out practicing, others tidying up, others preparing the lanterns for the on coming night.
A hive.
She wasn't wrong. It was one way to look at it.
"A hive .... but not your hive?" He questioned.
Alanna eyed him from the corner of her eye, gaze clearly irritated. "I never said that.
"Are you implying it?"
"Just observing your words. You've described it as a thing, but with no possession towards it," he said simply, eyes still looking down at the barracks below.
"I am not the queen bee. I have no right to claim possession over it. I am a worker in the great framework. I know where my place is. But, I also know my worth, woman or otherwise."