Tavath fidgeted uncomfortably as he sweated in the get-up he'd been forced to wear; the damned trade guild insisted that he wear their guard's uniform over his armour, and while the combination of his thick leather breastplate, the heavy wool cloak, and fur-edged boots would have kept him comfortably warm in the northern parts of Connlaoth, here in the humid, southern coast of Summervale, they only served to boil him. The envoy was busy haranguing some widowed trade magnate about the price of seashells or whatever it was they made here, leaving Tavath to his own devices.
Don't make a nuisance of yourself, was what the envoy had said. After two weeks at sea, Tavath wasn't feeling much like making a nuisance, but nor could he stand to be inside the small, modestly kept house any more. If this widow were a trader queen, she wasn't showing it off very well. The only thing that suggested she might have any money was the garden. Hoping the greenery would take the edge off of the humidity, Tavath made his way to a low stone bench near the centre of the garden. He leaned his spear against a thick-trunked apple tree and unhooked the clasp of his cloak. He loosened the straps of his armour, took the heavy green wool and rolled it into a tight bundle, using it as a pillow as he laid down on the stone bench and closed his eyes. Hopefully, the cooler air here would do him some good.
Dorothea needed some space, peace and quiet. Though it was true that she often fed off chaos and discord, there were just times when she felt that the world was closing in. Today happened to be one of those days. She wandered off the busy roads and searched for a quiet place to rest and think in quiet.
She found what appeared to be public garden and gave a heavy sign of relief. Dorothea inhaled the sweet-scented cool air and smiled to herself. Finally free from the world's stupidity. As she wandered down the narrow paths, taking in the sights of beautiful ferns of many colors and shades, she stumbled upon a man, a soldier from the looks of his uniform, resting lazily on a bench.
Tavath spotted the bright-red-haired girl wander into the garden just as he settled down for a short nap. Keeping his eyes half-lidded, Tavath shifted on the stone bench and snorted loudly, hoping to give the impression that he was exactly what he'd wanted to be - a dozy guard, taking a mid-afternoon nap. The girl wandered down the garden paths, seemingly at random, her hair always just visible through the foliage or above a shrubbery. As she neared, Tavath rolled onto his side and opened one eye, staring at the stranger.
"Don't rightly know what you're doin' here, lass," he said sleepily, "but I hope you've a good reason f'r trespassin' and ruinin' my nap. F'r both our sake," he added with a feigned yawn. She looked to Tavath's eyes like she was just barely past her fifteenth summer, and shouldn't be too difficult to eject from the Widow's garden if the need presented itself.
Dorothea was a bit startled, not expecting the man to speak to her, but did not show it. She gave a polite bow of her head; she was not one to completely disrespect others all the time. She could be pleasant if she wanted to. However, she was not about leave the garden. Dorothea didn't care if it was privately owned. She needed the peace of it for now.
"Aye," she called, moving forward. "I hadn't any idea I was trespassin' on privately owned property. I'm a-wanderin' and I meant only to step out of the busy road for some peace of mind is all. No harm meant."
Tavath grinned and nodded at the girl as he sat up. "Well, if you didn't know, then I suppose that all's forgiven; no harm, no foul." He considered the girl for a moment and shrugged his shoulders slightly - she didn't seem like she'd be any trouble, nor was she difficult on the eyes. Deciding he had best demonstrate to the Serenians that Connlaothians were gentlemen, too, Tavath stood up and laid his cloak onto the bench. "Did ye want to take a seat, lass? It's not exactly the softest, but the shade's not too bad."
Dorothea smirked, raising an eyebrow at him. How ridiculous he seemed to her, but she wasn't about to pass up a chance to sit. She sauntered over, a hand placed on her hip. As she took a seat, crossing her legs and placing her hands daintily on her knee, she cocked her head and smirked at him.
"So what is an soldier of your status doing in such a quiet place... taking a nap?" Dorothea asked, a hint of a flirt in her tone.
Tavath grinned and shook his head at the girl, silently thanking Ansgar that he had relented to the emissary's insistence that he be neatly attired and have his beard re-braided. He was doubly thankful for his beard being as thick as it was when she teased him. He could feel his cheeks flushing slightly and cursed himself silently. You're a grown man, for Ansgar's sake! Stop blushing, you fool!
"Well, lass," he said slowly as he shifted from one foot to the other. "I'm actually not on duty as such at the moment and I figured...It's right warm here this far south, you know. That an' the humidity, I just figured...well, aye, I was plannin' on nappin'."
Dorothea couldn't deny it: this was the perfect place to take a small nap. The breeze was just right, the smell of the exotic plants created a lovely and calming aroma. She, herself, had come here in hopes of taking a bit of a rest.
"Well, aye, soldier," she said, her smile and tone genuine. "It's lovely here... a perfect place to take a rest."
Tavath straightened slightly and smiled at the girl. She was right, of course - he'd had more than enough experience picking suitable places to doze off when he was in the Muster. He looked around the garden and nodded at the her. "Aye, lass, that it is. And I'm not a soldier; not any more, at least, thank Ansgar."
"My name," he added a moment later, realizing he'd yet to introduce himself to the girl or discover her name, "Is Tavath. Might I have the honour of knowin' yours?"
"You carry yourself well," Dorothea said, "For a man who is not a soldier."
She daintily lifted her hand, her petite wrist held up elegantly in the air, for him to take. "Pleased to meet you, Tavath-Not-Soldier," she gave him a silly little wink, "Aye, I'm Dorothea."
Tavath smiled at the girl's compliment and felt his cheeks warm as she winked at him. He gingerly took the girl's hand in his and hesitated for a moment, uncertain as to what he was expected to do - he hardly knew the girl, but she clearly expected him to do something.
Deciding that restraint was probably the better option in this case, Tavath bowed to Dorothea and released her hand as he straightened back up. "The pleasure's mine, miss Dorothea. If you'd not mind my askin', though, what brings ye this far south? Summervale's fair close to Adela, an' it might not be safe for folk to go wanderin' unarmed an' unescorted."
Dorothea gave him a coy smile, batting her eye lashes. "Who said I was unarmed?" she asked with a faux surprised tone. "And am who said I was alone? I believe I'm not alone at the moment; I'm with respectable retired soldier. Is there a reason I should be concerned to be in your company?"
Tavath's eyes widened slightly at Dorothea's suggestion that she was armed. She didn't appear to be carrying any weapons, nor did she seem like she was particularly dangerous - not, he told himself, that he was looking at her. Of course, he reminded himself, it the ones who didn't look particularly dangerous that wound up being the most competent.
"Well," he said with a small shake of his head, "Not much to worry about from me, Miss; I've no mind to do anythin' but keep outta the heat and, if you'd not mind, enjoy your company."
Dorothea raised an eye brow and nodded, leaning her head back, stretching her slender neck. Her long, vibrant red hair glowed in the sun beautifully, shimmering with hundreds of mixed shades. She inhaled deeply.
"I don't mind at all, sir," she said smoothly, sweetly. "I much enjoy your company."
Tavath looked away slightly as Dorothea stretched her neck, partly for modesty's sake and partly to hide his own blush. Ansgar!, he thought, Either I've managed to be the luckiest sod that's ever lifted a spear, or there's something she wants from me, and probably not in a good way.
Looking back at Dorothea, Tavath did his best to give her a charming grin. "Well, Miss," he said with a nod of his head, "I'll try not t' spoil it for ye. D'you mind," he added as he tugged nervously at one of his beard's braids, "If I had a seat?"
Dorothea slid over with ease and patted the bench beside her. She smiled up at him, her neck still leaning back. "By all means, sir, take a seat."
She could not help keep the seductive smirk from her lips. Inside, she was laughing. This would be too easy, really. She had this power over men and she loved seeing them writhe as they tried to control themselves. All she needed was him to admit his desires to her, and she'd have him in the palm of her hand.
Dorothea considered touching him, either brushing his cheek with her finger tips, or perhaps being so bold as to tug playfully at one of his braids... but she would hold off on that a bit longer.
Tavath raised an eyebrow and moved toward the bench. Something had to be going on here; some sort of trap or, worse, she was actually interested in him. Deciding it had to be the former rather than the latter, he adjusted the straps on his stiff leather cuirass, letting the armour swing open slightly as he sat down on the bench beside the girl. He looked over to her and smiled, bobbing his head courteously toward the girl.
"So," he said after a moment, "Where d'ye hail from, Dorothea? I've not seen many with your look about them here in Serendipity. If y'don't mind my askin', I mean."
Dorothea smiled leaning towards him a bit with a chuckle. "Where I'm from doesn't really matter, sir," she said. "What does matter is that I'm 'ere right now, on this perfect day, in this lovely garden, alone"-- she smirked, winking at him-- "with you."
Tavath's eyebrows raised as Dorothea leaned toward him, and he put up a hand defensively as he smiled at the girl. "Aye, well, there's that, Miss," he said quickly as he sat back slightly. He quickly glanced around the garden, half expecting an assailant to leap from behind a stand of alstroemeria or poisoned darts to fly from a rosebush.
An idea popped into her head. He was a man, a soldier, he would have to feel like he was being manly. She had been quick to assume he was weak, but now she realized how to play her cards just right.
She forced tears to her eyes and seemed to double over as if in pain. "Please, please help me," she cried, sounding very convincing. "Please. I don't know what I'll do!" Dorothea looked up at him, her beautiful eyes shimmering with tears, her cheeks flushed a bit more pink, looking at him as if she were seeing someone truly heroic and awe-inspiring.
Tavath stared at the girl for a second, unsure of what was happening. As her cheeks flushed and she looked like she was about to begin crying, though, he decided he couldn't afford to hesitate any further. Leaping off of the bench and kneeling in front of Dorothea, Tavath took one of her hands in his and, with the other, tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes. Her pupils didn't seem to have the tell-tale constriction of poison, nor were her hands particularly warm or cold. A sudden chill ran through Tavath as he realized it could be a magical affliction.
"Lass," he said, concern evident in his voice, "Dorothea, are you alright? What's wrong?"
Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she looked at him helplessly. "Oh, Tavath," Dorothea said, barely more audible than a whisper, "I'm scared. I lied. I came here because I'm being followed. I'm so frightened. My father, he couldn't pay our rents anymore... so he sold me...to a whore house--" She let out a sob for affect, "--but I don't want to go back. Don't let them take me back there. Protect me?" Dorothea buried her face, as if ashamed, with her free hand; she tightened the grip of her other hand in his, as clinging to him. She hoped her story would win him over.
Tavath stared at her for a moment, his face draining of colour before flushing a deep crimson. "Lass," he said quietly and evenly, "They'll no' have you, in any way, I promise you that."
He stood and tightened the straps of his cuirass, glancing back at the archway Dorothea had entered by. There didn't appear to be anyone there, but bandits were, he knew, devious by nature. Picking up his spear, he looked back at the girl and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring grin. "Don't you worry none, Dorothea," he said calmly, "I'll take care of 'em for ya. You'll just need t'let me know where they are. An' where yer Da's at; I'll want ta have a word or two with him."
She rushed to her feet, grabbing his arm. "No, Tavath!" she cried. "Don't go; they're too strong. Please, just... help me..." Her shoulder sagged. "I just need to find someway to get on my feet, so I can--" she swallowed a sob "--take care of myself. Is there... anyway you could get me a job?" Dorothea bowed her head. "Or if I'm too much a bother, perhaps just some supplies and I can be on my way. I haven't eaten in so long..."
Tavath looked at the girl for a moment and nodded. "Aye, yer prob'ly right, lass," he said slowly. "Just wait here for a moment, an' I'll be right back."
Without waiting for Dorothea to respond, Tavath jogged to the archway and poked his head into the street. He scanned the passers-by and, while was able to spot several character of no-doubt less than stellar repute, none seemed concerned with keeping an eye on the entrance to the garden. Nodding to himself, he walked slowly back to where Dorothea sat and smiled at her.
"Well," he said cautiously, "It's lookin' clear for the moment; if you've a mind, I've some bread, cheese and dried fruit that you'd be welcome to, lass."
Dorothea's eyes widen and she smiled widely. "OH! Thank you, thank you, Tavath," she cried happily, hugging his arm. "You' no idea how much you' helped me!" She hoped he would let her stay.
Dorothea's story, though not entirely truthful had not been a complete lie. She was indeed being followed; and, much to her chagrin, Dorothea was unable to cast herself a shield. Umeson had surprised her and she'd let her guard down. For the time being, she was as weak as a human man.
"But I will not let you give to me out of charity, Tavath," she said, placing her hands on her hips. "I will make sure I am useful to you in some way."
Tavath stiffened as Dorothea grabbed his arm. He hesitated a moment before awkwardly patting her on the shoulder and sliding his arm out of her grasp. He shook his head and smiled at Dorothea as he reached for his kit-bag.
"Don't ye worry about it, Dorothea," he said as he rifled through his belongings. "It's no hardship, I assure you. Besides," he added as he handed her a small, oil-skin wrapped bundle. "It's the least I can do for such a...lass as ye."
She took the small bundle, her hands lingering on his for a moment, as she looked up at him with shining happy eyes. "Oh, no! Whatever it is you might be needin' or wantin', you tell me, Tavath. I won't accept this as charity."
Tavath felt his cheeks flush at the touch of Dorothea's hand and shook his head. "No, lass," he said warmly. "It's not charity, lass; it's a gift. Besides," he added with what he was certain was a stupid grin on his face, "Bein' around a pretty girl's plenty reward enough for me."
Dorothea smiled and laughed. "You'ra sure good man, Tavath. Most men who have jumped on that offer... literally." She gave him a bit of a wink. "But I will find a way to repay you some way."
Tavath worked his mouth dumbly for a moment, and then shook his head as he gave Dorothea a half-smile. "Aye, well," he said, his voice tinged with a note of sadness, "I'm not sure what sorta men ye've been, uh, familiar with, lass, but...well, you've no need t'repay me. 'Specially not in that way."
He set his pack back by the bench and sat down, leaning against a dwarf pear-tree. He looked up at Dorothea and tipped his chin toward her. "You should eat, lass. Once tha's done, we can talk about what we're t'do with you. Fair?"
"You'ra good man, Tavath," she said again, taking a seat on the bench. "Honorable, and kindhearted. I envy the woman in your life." Dorothea nodded to him, thanking him again, before beginning to eat. When she'd finished a good portion of the bread, she looked up at him again. "Are you sure there'a nothing I can do...?"
Tavath watched Dorothea intently as she wolfed her way through the hard loaf of ration-bread and shook his head sadly. She was beautiful, true, but her...insistence troubled him. It was, he decided, a shame that someone as young as she was felt that she needed to offer herself up as repayment for a small kindness. Not, of course, that he'd ever be able to articulate that sort of thought in words - not to her, at least, and certainly not in any remotely eloquent way.
Tavath shook his head again at her offer and smiled. "No, Dorothea, I'm sure; it's not...Well, it's not that I'm not interested, lass, but, well, yer young an' ye've not had a good time of it, that much is clear. I'm not sure what kinda men yer used to, but I'm not like 'em. And," he added after after a moment, "there's no lady in my life. Nor'd she be that lucky, lass."
"Well, sh' be'd taken care of, any woman you might'in find you'self with someday, Tavath," Dorothea said, with her rough accent coming through. At times, it was just far too exhausting to try and hide it; it also added to her story of a rough life as a child prostitute. "Perhaps' some day that's how I'll repay you'-- I'll get you a woman, hm?" She giggled.
Tavath smiled at Dorothea and shook his head as he looked up through the pear tree's leaves.
"Well, lass," he said after a few minutes silence, "that may be a long time in comin'. But let's not think o' that for now. What of you?" he asked, looking back at the girl. "Can't leave ye here an', no offence intended, but sendin' ye back to yer da doesn't seem like the best of plans. Where've ye a mind t'go to? If it's Connlaoth-way, I might be able t' convince my employer t' let you go with us... "
Dorothea smiled sweetly, batting her eyes lashes. "Oh, please let-in me stay with you! I'm strong an-I can do good works!"
Tavath smiled back at Dorothea and shrugged his shoulders. "It's not really fer me to say, lass," he said slowly. "If I can finish up my contract without havin' to escort his nibs," he gestured to the house and grimaced, "then I can take ye most anywhere ye'd like. If they're wantin' me to head back north, well... It's their ship, y'understand?"
Dorothea grinned sneakily. Her mind was churning with ideas now; she wasn't sure what else she could do. She was running out of time very quickly; Dorothea had to find some way to snare him.
"Well," she said with a shrug, "couldn' you'in say that I have' to come with you?"
Tavath raised an eyebrow at Dorothea's insistence she come with him. He arched his neck and looked toward the garden's gate, then looked back at her and put a hand on the grip of a broad-bladed dagger at his hip.
"Lass," he said evenly, "There's somethin' not right, an' if ya want me to take ye along with me, I'm gonna need to know exactly what's goin' on. Now, please, what's this about?"
Dorothea looked alarmed, stepping back. "Y-you... I... I told you!" she cried, more tears coming to her eyes. "I just don' want to be 'lone anymore. I guess it' not to be; I' die before going back there." She grabbed at the dagger that he reached for, grabbing it from it's sheath quicker than he could stop her, and held it to her neck. "It's no life, back there as a whore... I won' go back, I won'!"
Tavath watched, stunned, as Dorothea reached for his dagger and cursed as she slipped her arms from his grip. He blanched as the girl held the dagger at her throat and put his hands up in a calming gesture.
"Easy there, Dorothea," he said, taking a small step toward the girl. "Just put the knife down, lass. Ain't no way I'd let you go back there. Ain't no life for a girl, but I don't want ye t'be thinkin' I'm some sorta hero ridin' in from a fae-story t'save ya. I'll do what I can, though, t'convince the envoy ta let ye come home with us, though. Just," he added as he motioned to the ground with his hands, "just put the dagger down, lass. Please."
Tears streamed down her cheeks, creating streaks. Inside, Dorothea was laughing. She enjoyed this sort of play; Tavath was weaker than he appeared. He wouldn't let a girl he thought might be unstable kill herself, and he wouldn't let her be left uncared for.
"No," she choked. "I can'in. Not if I have nowhere to turn. I can'in go back, Tavath. I can'in!"
Tavath took another step toward Dorothea and shook his head. "I never said anythin' about you goin' back, lass," he said, taking another step closer to her. When he was an ell and a half from the girl, he launched himself at her, wrapping his left hand around the blade as he tackled her to the ground.
As he lay atop the girl, he wrestled the blade from her hands and tossed it aside, drops of blood from the long cut in his hand splashing on the foliage. "Ansgar, woman!" he said angrily, "Are ye mad? Ye coulda died there!"
Dorothea shrieked as they fell. Her hands flew up, to defend herself; as the blade was pulled from her hand, she shoved her hands against the man's shoulders. Her heart racing, her breath coming in gasps, she looked up at him in shock. "I--Get off me," she said, although her voice was calm.
She was grinning inside. He had already stepped up to be more than she'd expected. Maybe he'd be useful after all.
Tavath stared into Dorothea's eyes, the braids of his beard and plaits of his hair beating against her chin as he shook his head. "No," he said firmly, his gaze flicking to where the dagger lay, five or six paces distant, then back to the girl. "Not unless ye promise yer not gonna get any crazy ideas, lass. Is that understood?"
Dorothea glared up at him, pushing at his shoulders again, but to no avail. She finally seemed to deflate. Her hands fell from his shoulders and down beside her head, on the ground. Bright, teary green eyes stared up at him desperately. "Tavath...?" she said, her voice sounded choked with emotion.
For a moment, Dorothea wondered why he cared so much. Perhaps he was just one of those self-sacrificing types? Well, if that were true he'd definitely be a faithful pawn to have.
Tavath nodded as Dorothea's hands fell to the ground. He rolled off of the girl and stood, pulling Dorothea to her feet as he did so. "Aye, lass," he said quietly as he wrapped the girl in an awkward hug. "Don't worry none; Tavath's not gonna let anyone hurt ye - you've my word on it."
Shakily, Dorothea returned the hug, although she wasn't usually one for hugs- even when she was pretending. Hugs felt a bit... awkward. She looked up at him with her teary eyes and tried to give him a reassuring smile. "I--I'm really... sorry," she murmured, her head bowing ashamed. As she bowed her head, Dorothea finally allowed herself to smirk. Now she had some of the upper hand.
Tavath looked at Dorothea and nodded as he took a step back. His hands still on the girl's shoulders, he smiled at her and looked around the garden. "Nothin' to apologize for, lass," he said gently. "Nothin' at all."
He smiled at her for a moment more, then quickly pulled his hands away from the girl. "Ansgar's teeth!" he cursed as he stared at the large, wet, bloody mark he'd left on the shoulder of her jacket. "Lass, I'm sorry, I didn't mean t'get yer jacket all bloody; I didn't even realize I was bleedin' and..." he trailed off and looked at Dorothea sheepishly. "Sorry, lass," he said lamely as he shook his head.
Dorothea glanced down at his shoulder, startled, but smiled softly. "It' alright, Tavatha," she reached out and took his bleeding hand. "Let me take care of this." She pulled him gently back towards the bench, and pushed him back into sitting. She plucked a few soft velvety leafs from a nearby bush and wrapped his hand in them, applying light pressure.
Tavath hissed as Dorothea pressed the leaves into his hand and shook his head. "No, lass," he said through clenched teeth, "Dorothea, it's fine. You don't have t' worry, it's just a gash, an' I've had far worse than it." He pulled his hand away from hers and flexed it, making sure that the leaves did not fall away. "Thank you, though," he said.
He looked around the garden and blushed as he looked back at Dorothea before quickly looking at a point on the garden wall some dozen or so paces behind her. "Well, uh, lass," he said after a moment. "What plans've you got for lodgin' fer the night? I mean, the envoy an' the rest of us, we're at an inn not too far from here, an'..." He trailed off as his cheeks flushed a deeper red.
She shrugged, bowing her head a bit. Her eyes seemed to glaze over, looking distant. "I haven't anywhere to spend the night, Tavath. I sleep wherever I can find a quiet place to lie my head down." Dorothea smiled up at him. "This place, this garden, that's why I came here. It's quiet and beautiful."
"Well, lass," he said hesitantly, "I'm fair sure you'd be able to stay th' night in my room. Not that," he added, his face flushing again, "Not that I was suggestin' we'd...I mean, you can have the bed, I'll be on watch f'r the night, so..."
Tavath shook his head offered Dorothea a sheepish smile as he shrugged his shoulders. "Y'know what I meant, right, lass?"
She gave a kindhearted laugh, that was actually genuine, and nodded. "Aye, Tavath, I understand what you mean. But are you sure?"