Spirits of the Earth

[ @Moonie <3]

Too many times he'd told himself this was the only way.  There was no going back.  Turning back would mean disgrace, dishonor and shame, and he knew he couldn't live with that.  He wouldn't be able to live with himself.  For Christer the act of leaving the edges of Connlaoth was much more difficult than he imagined.  Thinking it was always the easy part.  But taking the first step; it took everything in him not to break down.

How could he have failed in his duty?  What sort of knight let the daughter of the lord they served just run off and then lose them in the process?!  Oh he could never face his family again.  A soft impotent fear drifted into him when he thought about what would become of them.  Would his own failure have repercussions beyond simple banishment? 

Was his own guilt at his failure the only real cause of his exile...?

The last question was pushed far from his mind.  It didn't matter now he told himself.  He couldn't go back no matter how much he tried.  Being a knight was all he wanted to be, was all he was destined for.  And now that future was gone.

Christer sat quietly on his horse, overlooking the mountains that served as the border between Connlaoth and Serendipity.  It would be a long trek, and the mountain caravan that was guiding him through wasn't going to do so cheaply.  With what gold he managed to scrounge up, Christer paid for passage, walking alongside the horse when it was tired, and helping out where he could.  The others in the caravan ignored him and he was grateful for it.

The mountains were harsh and cold, the altitude difficult to assimilate too.  Popping ears had left him vaguely deaf on more than one occasion, however because so few cared to communicate with him, Christer had no real need for hearing.

He would tend to his horse, and the animal was content to nuzzle his nose against his cheek, or chuff to blow back the young knight's loose locks.

It would take close to a month for the journey to end, and every day went by like a burning stone in the pit of his stomach.  He was both sick and relieved, and he could feel a change in the atmosphere.  No longer was he in the safe confines of his Church, of his homeland.  He was just another wanderer, a vagabond, a knight without a lord.  He was no better than a vagrant, and that very thought only sickened him further.

Maybe that was why the other passengers aboard the caravan cared little to converse with him.  He could sense their scowls, their uneagerness to even be noticed by him.  He gave off an aura of misery, and only the caravan master bothered with him. 

"You're not going to make many friends with a look like that on your face," he said with a laugh.  "Look we're all going to be resting up for the evening, settling in and making camp.  Why don't you make yourself useful and help an old man gather some firewood for the burning?"

Christer stood up from where he'd been reclining against a tree when the caravan took break.  He frowned.  "Why me?  Can't Bartolomew help you?  Isn't he your assistant or something?"

The caravan master laughed.  "Ol' Junior can hardly count to five.  I wouldn't trust him with handling an axe for chopping wood, much less getting these people into Moonspear safely.  Besides, you don't think you've had enough rotting away sitting dere with that fancy sword.  Now quit being a sourpuss and take this ax, and do what I've asked ya.  There's a good lad."

Chister's scowl deepened.  He was a knight, not a woodsman, this was beneath him.  However with the ax shoved into his hand he saw he had little choice.  With a grumble he wandered off away from the clearing in which the rest of the caravan had settled.  The woods in the surrounding mountain lands were dark and deep where they appeared most, and for once Christer felt he liked them.

He wasn't much for the wilderness, or traveling long distances, but with others the journey was much less taxing.  He found some branches scattered on the hard, rough soil and raised the axe above his head, about to take his first swing when a rustling nearby caught his attention.  Suddenly he didn't feel so at ease any more, and the sickening feeling in his stomach returned with a vengeance.

Pausing now, he crouched, waiting and listening until he thought he might hear it again.  When he didn't, he tried to relax and let his eyes scan the trees around him.  It was a little hard to see with all this...brush in the way.  Cities were so much nicer...  A nice estate, with a nice soft warm bed, a pillow...  How he missed pillows.

The brush was disturbed once more.

"W-who's there!?" he barked.  Damn!  Why did he have to stutter then!?  "S-show yourself!  Or else!"

Perhaps the mountains and the forest would have seemed majestic in the evening light – under different circumstances. Many years ago, before the nightmare had settled over her mind and the shadows encased her heart, she thought she might have liked wandering under the looming canopy of the evergreens.

Now this place contained only foreboding and menace.

And she was alone.

It was the worst feeling of all; the sense of being completely isolated. Even the company of her master was preferable to that. Oh, her master! Just the thought of him brought a fresh wave of tears sliding down her cold, pale cheeks. For so long he had been everything to her. A vile creature she had hated, but her very life had depended upon him for so long she couldn't remember what it was like not to have him there.

Alison feared Victor, but as cruel and hurtful as he could be, the vampire had also been the only thing keeping her alive. It was a long, miserable, unnatural life, but it had been her life. As much as she feared him, she feared death even more. What would even happen to someone like her?  Was her soul condemned to damnation?

She had never gotten to truly live, and she didn't want to die – but she was going to. Alison was going to die out here in the middle of these trees where no one would find her and no one would care. No doubt that had been Victor's intention. One last cruel punishment for a crime she hadn't even committed.

At first she had fallen to her knees, screaming and begging for hours, until her throat was raw and her voice hoarse, but her master had not come back for her regardless of her pitiful pleas. She knew he wouldn't, but couldn't have stopped herself if she tried. Once resignation had settled in Alison had sobbed until even that was too much for her weakening body and spirit. Now she could only shamble through the trees, silent tears coming and going as she waited for the end of her strength to come.

Funny, she'd never thought she held any strength at all, but now she clung to life as fiercely as she could despite the hopelessness of her situation.

Terror filled her when she heard something large moving through the forest. There were surely dangerous beasts out in this wilderness, but as the sounds became clearer she realized what she heard weren't sounds of the wild at all. The creaking of wagon wheels, a steady drum of hooves and feet, echoes of voices – there were people nearby. Alison hadn't even known there was a road going through the mountains so close to her.

Why should she? She was far from home.

People brought their own problems. Part of her wished to rush headlong towards them, but the more prominent part could only feel terror at the idea of meeting anyone who wasn't her master. What would they do to her? They could be anyone!

So she hid, hoping they would pass. They didn't. She considered fleeing as the sounds stopped moving; instead the sounds of people making camp reached her. If she just stayed where she was and remained quiet they would leave in the morning, none-the-wiser that she'd been so close to them to begin with. In a strange way maybe it would even be comforting to have the subtle sounds just off in the distance to keep her company in what could be her last hours.

Alison didn't even know how long she had left. Hours? Days? Impossible for her to truly tell.

If only they would have stayed away. She could hear someone approaching, just one person. Had someone spotted her? No, not in such thick trees and brush from such a distance – she had never even seen the caravan herself.

Moving away from the man, an icy pit of fear settled in her stomach as she tried to remain quiet and out of sight. He had an axe in his hands, but she realized quickly that he was after firewood, not her. That would make sense. In her efforts to peer at him through her hiding place, she disturbed the leaves, causing a soft rustling.

Alison bit her bottom lip to suppress a soft whimper of fear as the man noticed her mistake. She'd have tried to remain perfectly still, to hopefully make him think it was nothing, but her body had begun to shake uncontrollably in her terror and her legs nearly gave out completely as she grabbed a branch to keep from collapsing from the strain of everything. All the stress, her weakening body, the fear and uncertainty was just too much.

She choked back a soft sob as the man called out, demanding that she show herself "or else". What could he do to her that had not already been done? In defeat, Alison stumbled out of the brush and fell to her knees, holding up her empty hands towards him and keeping her head ducked down.

"Please don't hurt me."

The sound startled him, and Christer jumped back and held the ax away from himself.  Realizing this he drew it forward to defend himself from the crazed woman ahead of him.  Crap, how he could get so scared of this...this pathetic creature in front of him.  For a short time the fear soon dissipated and he relaxed.  Although the tinges of his nerves remained wary.

"I....I won't....  Who are you?" he asked instead and carefully drew the ax down to his side.

She looked as if she hadn't eaten in quite some time, her skin seemingly malnourished, and hair disheveled.  Thankfully had a brush in his horse' saddlebags.  Hopefully she didn't mind a little bit of horse hair.

Alison kept her eyes on the ground, too afraid to even look up at him, so she didn't see the way he held the ax defensively in front of him. She might have laughed at that, hysterically rather than with any sense of actual humor. Who could possibly be afraid of someone like her? There was no doubt in her mind she looked a scrawny mess.

"Alison...my name is Alison." She wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered, though she wasn't sure if she was cold or just afraid. "What are you going to do to me?"

What?  Did she think that he had any plan or intention toward her.  She was just a strange looking girl in the middle of a mountain forest.  At least that was his first impression.  Christer shook his head and gulped, snapping his jaw shut, not realizing it'd gone loose during his staring session.

"Me?  I'm not gonna do anything with you," he said gently.  He put the ax down and slowly approached.  She seemed harmless enough.  "Wow, you look like you've had a rough time of it.  Are you all right?"

He knelt down before her and shuffled around his belt for a flask of water he kept on him, unstrapping it and offering it to her.  "My name is Christer.  Are you thirsty?  Hungry?  Do you need help?"

It probably sounded a strange thing to say to him, but for Alison it seemed perfectly natural to assume that anyone she came across would harm or use her in some way. That was just how life had been for her. Not to mention her master had warned her many times that it was dangerous for her to be out alone in the world without his protection.

He wasn't protecting her anymore.

Alison shrank back slightly as Christer got close to her, only finally looking up at him when he knelt down before her. Was she all right? Nothing was ever right.

Tears were threatening to spill down her cheeks once again and her lower lip quivered with the effort not to break down sobbing once again."Only master can help me, but he left me out here to die. I was a good girl. I did everything he ever asked me and he's still punishing me."

She ignored the offered flask, even though yes, she was very thirsty and very hungry. Human comforts wouldn't help or save her. Why waste his things on a dying person?

Whatever she was accustomed to, Christer was just as much out of water.  He literally a stranger in a strange land, and in these northern Serenian mountains where the air was crisp and light, and made a soft chill coil down his spine, he wanted only to do what anyone else wanted: survive.  However, he was no longer in fight or flight mode.

His concern became the state of this young creature before him.  Not because he expected anything in return, but because what kind of person would he be if he didn't.  Christer tilted his head, not sure he understood.  "Your master?  Are you a slave then?  You got separated from your owner?" he asked.

Alison shook her head, bringing her hands up, fingers curled around and almost poised to chew her fingernails. "I don't have a master, he doesn't want me anymore. Now I'm going to die out here, alone and far away from home."

And there was nothing she could do about it.

Her head fell into her hands and she choked back another hopeless sob. She couldn't survive without her master's will and his blood. "I don't want to die. Please help me."

He was hesitant to touch her, but he couldn't stand to see her hysterical.  Which this seemed to be in his limited experience with people in general.  Christer held his hands out, palms forward in an effort to calm her down.

"You're not going to die!  I'll help you.  There's a whole caravan of people that would be happy to help you, okay?  You're safe now.  No one is going to hurt you, and you won't die," Christer assured her and only then did his hands fall onto her wrists gently to pry them from her crying eyes.

The caravan had practically slipped her mind, but being reminded of it wasn't a comfort. A thousand people couldn't help her. No, but one could. She needed her master's blood, but...did it have to be Victor?

It might not work, but Alison knew it was her only real hope. She needed a new master as soon as possible.

Trying to quiet herself came much easier now that she had a plan; even if it was a flawed plan that she couldn't be sure would actually save her. A tiny glimmer of hope was better than nothing. Sniffling a little she let her hands be drawn away as she lifted her eyes to meet his. "You'll really help me? You promise I'll be safe now?"

A glimmer of hope that she saw, a ball of confusion is what he felt like he'd become.  Christer could only help her in order to keep himself from panicking and bolting right out of the clearing.  He always could; just pretending he didn't see her, return with some twigs, and be yelled at for how incompetent he was, and he'd make no mention of the strange girl in the forest.

And he'd prove himself the coward he feared he was.  Perhaps knew he was.

"I'll help you.  I promise," he said.  There'd he'd said it.  Now he couldn't take it back.  He just hoped he wouldn't live to regret it.  "You'll be safe.  I can protect you, I'm a knight."  Was he still?

Her pale, cool hands gripped at his forearms weakly. "Thank you, thank you so much. I didn't want to be alone."

A knight? Well, her father had been a lord, and he'd had many knights in his service - knights trained to kill monsters like Victor - and they hadn't been able to protect her. Alison didn't think it would be very beneficial to point it out. She was just grateful someone, anyone, was even willing to help her.

Even if he couldn't help or protect her after all, just having someone there at the end, to not have to die alone and forgotten, meant a great deal.

Christer gripped her hands back, his touch gentle and the ax long forgotten.  In some ways the people of the caravan were forgotten.  He smiled, trying to keep his expression gentle.  It came easier than he thought, and that was one less thing to worry about.  He helped her to her feet, standing in the follow through, and he could hear hollering coming back from the direction he came.

"The other people in the caravan will help to you.  Is there anything I can do for you now?  Are you hungry?  Thirsty?  I suppose fear doesn't make things any better," he said with a shy smile, he turned his head away a little.

It should have been obvious to anyone as Christer helped her stand just how shaky and unsteady Alison was on her own feet. A long, long time ago she'd have been embarrassed by being so obviously weak. Now her weakness was just something she knew to be part of her affliction.

"Yes." She whispered through trembling lips. Gods she was starving and her throat was raw and dry, her voice was probably raspy and harsh on the ears. Alison was still human, for the most part, but food and water would only help if she had the far more vital blood only her master could give her. She licked her cracked lips and dropped her pink eyes away from her kind-hearted stranger in shame.

How could she ask him to shoulder such a burden?

"Christer...I have no right to ask you for anything. There is something you can do for me, something I need but..." The words lodged in her throat. She wasn't even sure it would work and they knew nothing about each other. He was obviously a kind and honorable sort being a knight and offering her help, but to him she was just some unfortunate lost slave.

Whatever it was that she had to ask for would have to wait until later.  The sound of those approaching would draw Christer's attention.  He stood up, and walked out of the clearing, coaxing Alison along with him.  "I found someone.  Someone that needs our help," he said as he saw the caravan driver appear before him.

"What!?  How did you..."  He stopped short and saw there was no firewood with him.  He shook his head fiercely, sighing fire through his nostrils.  "I just sent ya to do one thing boy!  Fine.  Go and get her back into your tent.  I'll get the firewood.  I'll check on ya two later."

He looked the sallow girl over.  She didn't strike him as being very well, but then again neither did Christer.  He didn't understand if there was just something wrong with a person's lack of common sense these days.  Nevertheless he'd go about the task himself.  There was no point in whining about it.

Christer did as he was told.  This time, and helped Alison back to camp, and back to the tent he'd set up for himself.  His horse was happy to see him, however he was less than enthused with Alison's sudden appearance, and whinnied in faint distress.

Whatever hesitation or fear over meeting the people with the caravan Alison had, her conditioning to obey was far stronger, so he had no trouble getting the fragile creature to follow meekly. Of course she immediately shrank back from the driver, hiding behind Christer as much as she could as the man seemed angry.

She was only slightly relieved when they were dismissed.

Back to Christer's tent meant joining the caravan full of strangers whose intents she couldn't possibly know, despite the kind young knight's reassurances. Alison kept her head down, refusing to look at anyone and relying heavily on her companion's help just to reach the tent.

The horse beside the tent, she assumed it belonged to Christer, seemed uneasy around her. She wondered if it was because of some lingering energy from Victor or because of herself.

Either way she shied away from the animal warily. A bite would hurt terribly and a kick could probably kill her. "I'm sorry. I'm already being bothersome. I don't meant to cause trouble for anyone. He was angry at you. That's my fault. And your horse doesn't like me. You should have left me there..."

She began wringing her hands as a nervous habit.

"I think you're over thinking everything," he said with a nod.  Christer took her hands gently in his and led her away from his horse.  The animal watched them both, and gave a snort when they vanished into the tent.  Even if he was distrustful, his horse in general was skittish and preferred Christer's company alone.

"Come here, let me look you over," he said with a soft tone.  Christer guided Alison to sit down while he went about fixing a tin cup of cold tea.  It wasn't ideal but it was all he had to offer at the moment.

"Don't be nervous.  No one here will hurt you.  Why are you afraid?" he said, kneeling before her.

Alison couldn't help but notice how warm his hands were as she was gently led into the tent. She couldn't remember the last time someone warm had touched her. Victor was always cold; and so was she. He had done that to her, taken all the warmth from her life and cast her into a cold darkness.

Trying to pull her mind away from the past, she sat when directed to, and watched him prepare tea. It was very strange to have someone doing things for her; even stranger to be treated kindly.

"I'm always afraid, I almost can't recall a time when I wasn't." Alison ducked her head down, staring at her pale hands. "You are being so kind to me. I don't know why, but I am so grateful. I hate to ask more of you, but please, please you must help me find a new master. A kind master, like you. If I don't find one soon..."

She'd die. Her pale pink eyes looked up at him imploringly as they shimmered with barely held-back tears.

"Gods, please don't cry.  I don't know what to do when women cry.  I doubt slapping you is the right response, somehow it just seems to bring more tears," he said, growing flustered.  "Just why do you need another master?  Aren't you free now?  Wouldn't you rather be free?"

Just hearing the word slapping caused Alison to flinch and lean back, reflexively withdrawing from an incoming punishment. She didn't really think that Christer was going to slap her, but she couldn't wipe away eight decades of ingrained behavior that had, until this point, served her well.

"No! No, I can't." Eighty years ago she'd have shouted yes without hesitation, would have stamped her feet and demanded to be released immediately because her father was an important lord and he would not stand for any of this. She knew that because it was exactly what she'd done. How very naive she'd been back then!

"Please, you don't understand. My master was a monster. I can't live without him. He...he...cursed me. I don't know how to even explain it, but he made sure I would never truly be free again." What a joke, live as a slave or die free, what choice did she have?

It was a lot to take in and for all Christer could tell, this was nothing more than the ramblings of a crazed woman.  He was quiet for her entire expulsion, listening and feeling himself grow more and more reserved from what he had just done.  He did promise to protect her, but in the end how true was such an oath...

Except he was still a knight, and he'd given her his word...

"Then perhaps I can help you become free.  What do you need me to do?"

Help her become free? Alison felt desperate frustration welling up in her gut. Even if becoming free was possible, she'd never live that long! He wasn't listening. Although she supposed if their positions were reversed she'd have struggled to fully grasp or understand. She sounded entirely insane.

"I just need to find a new master." Alison could only repeat herself, there was nothing else that could be done. Well, there was one thing. "Or I just need to accept my fate."

If she was asking him to become her master that notion had completely gone over Christer's head.  Until it slowly began to sink in, like a body laying dormant in quicksand, and slowly sinking to it's demise.  Only then did his eyes widen. 

"Oh....  You want me to become your master?  I...couldn't let anything happen to you.  You're rather pathetic looking, just putting it out there.  But I don't want you to die.  Sure, I'll be your master...  I have to be honest though I don't know anything about ordering anyone else around."

"I don't know if it will work if you're only my master out of pity. You have to really want to keep me alive and you don't even know all of it..." Alison didn't know if it would work even if Christer did agree to it.

"My master, I wasn't exaggerating when I called him a monster. He was a vampire, and he...did something to me. Only his blood kept me alive, and I don't know if I can even survive with a new master, but I don't want to die." She kept her gaze down on her hands which were tightly clutched together in her lap. "You don't have to do this. You have no reason to do this."

Christer huffed out a sound that sounded a lot like a laugh.  "Like I've got a lot else to do, here. I'm no better off than you.  I mean...everyone makes mistakes.  But some of them are harder to live with than others," he said with a soft sigh.

"I don't have anyone.  I don't have much of anything.  So, really the question is, what have I to lose?  And nothing is probably the answer," he said with a nod.

Mistakes had definitely been made, but it wasn't her mistake Alison was paying so dearly for. Christer sounded like he had regrets of his own he was battling with. Well, at least he still seemed willing to help her even after all the incoherent and insane babbling she'd probably done over the past couple minutes.

"Alright, then let's see if you can be my new master. If this works...I'll owe you my life." Alison pointed at his hand. "A small cut should work. I only need a little, but remember - you have to want it."

"I can try.  I want to help, I do," he said. 

He looked at his hands, pink and warm with blood even with the frigid temperature.  He took a knife and he carefully poked at his palm, in the soft section just below his thumb.

Alison didn't know why he would really want to help, except maybe Christer was really just that compassionate of a person. She hadn't met many of those.

The why hardly mattered, she wasn't exactly in a position to question any help she could get.

Her eyes widened a little as the knife poked into his skin, but as the first drop of blood welled up she leaned forward, wincing at how eager she was. It couldn't be helped; she was too desperate. With a sheepish glance at his face, Alison scooted closer to him and hesitantly reached for his hand. "I'm sorry. I don't want to need this."

He held his tongue, finding himself at a bit of a loss for words.  This was about the strangest thing that'd happened to him since ...well, he supposed this whole journey was rather strange.

Being in a strange country didn't help.

"It's okay," he found himself saying and pushed his hand gently toward her.  "I don't see anyone else offering to help you.  I don't see anyone else offering to help me.  What do I have to lose?"

"Maybe nothing to lose, but what are you gaining?" Not a lot, as far as Alison was concerned. I mean, sure, her loyalty, but that was hardly worth much as far as she could tell. She would just have to do her very best not to be burdensome.

If this worked.

Letting out a nervous breath she lowered her mouth to his hand, glancing up at his face as she gently latched on. Unlike a real vampire Alison was fangless. The first thing she noticed was Christer tasted so much different than Vincent. It was warm and coppery on her tongue, but other than the taste she didn't notice anything happening.

If it was working she should have felt something, right? She honestly wasn't sure how it worked. It wasn't as if Vincent had bothered explaining the process to her.

With a soft sound of frustration she pulled away, licking her lips and turning away with a sniffle. Although she quickly wiped at her eyes and bit her lip. She wasn't going to annoy him with more crying. At least he had tried to help her.

"Thank you, for trying, and being kind to me. It's been a long time since someone was truly nice to me." Alison wiped at her eyes again and folded her arms across her stomach, hugging herself in an attempt to self-soothe. That was about the time her tongue began to tingle, a soft rush of warmth coursing through her chilled body.

She gasped softly in surprise and brought her hands up to her cheeks, which flushed softly with the human heat. Sure, she didn't feel strong, but she felt a small change.

Christer hadn't noticed anything more than the suckling sensation.  He made a face but overall it was painless and he soon tucked his hand tightly, one into the other to keep the blood from flowing.  It would clot soon, most likely.  He watched her, quiet for a time as he thought over what he'd just done.  He didn't feel anything either, other than what was physical.

Did it even work? What if it didn't?  He supposed then all he'd lost was a little bit of blood and his dignity at not having been able to chop firewood.  He knew he was going to hear about that later.

"It's okay.  It was worth a shot," he said, not hearing her gasp.  Instead he turned to pour some water from a skin into a kettle to boil over the small fire just outside the tent.  He returned and pulled the blanket that'd been his horse's and gently placed it over her shoulders.

Alison was still struggling to decide if it had actually worked or not when Christer left the tent to boil some water. She felt different, but was it because it had truly worked or because the human blood was having some strange effect on her? The only blood she had ever needed or craved had been Victor's, and vampire blood was different than human blood.

For starters it was colder. Christer's blood was so warm, and it made her feel strangely warm and tingly.

She jumped slightly when the horse blanket was gently laid over her shoulders. Her attention had been so focused on trying to decipher what her body was feeling that she hadn't noticed him coming back. Sheepishly she pulled it closer around her, sparing a soft smile for her would-be knight-in-shining-armor.

"Thank you." Alison's voice was quiet, but she felt stronger than before. Yes, yes she definitely felt stronger. The ache in her stomach had even faded some. "I'm starting to feel a little better. If nothing else, you helped, but...I think it might be working."

It was strange.  How could he go so far and somehow achieve nothing in the entirety of his miserable life.  "Stupid, stupid," he murmured to himself, brewing the tea he was now making for himself.  And her, although she didn't say she wanted any.

Still, he wasn't going to let a guest in his company go without it's warmth.

He turned to her, unsure if what he heard was correct.  "It's working?" he said, eyes wide with wonder.  It was working?  "But how?"

How?

"I don't know how exactly it works." Victor hadn't exactly shared his secret methods with her, but Alison didn't care how it was working as long as it was working. "But I feel so much warmer."

She moved closer to him to place a hand on his cheek so that he could feel the difference in her hands. They had been chilled and almost lifeless when he'd found her, but now there was a soft glow of warmth pulsing under her skin. "See?" Tears welled in her eyes again, but from relief rather than despair. "Everything hurts less. Oh thank you Master, thank you."

"Oh-OH!"  Feeling her touch made Christer's eyes widen considerably.  He'd forgotten the tea in that moment and found himself staring into her eyes.  Feeling her hands on his his face, his own reached up to brace the back of hers, and the dull cold was gradually fading away.

"That...is fascinating," he breathed.  He didn't hear the word she'd called him, as strange as it was.  "It's almost like...magic."  How else did he know to describe it?  "Why it must be?  But...why would your former master do this to you?  Make it so you need another for your very survival.  Many people need..but not like this."

The tingling warmth deepened on her cheeks as his hands moved to cup around hers. It was probably a slightly strange sight, the two of them staring at each other in that position. Alison hadn't really taken the time to notice Christer's eyes until then, they were rather unusual and beautiful.

"I think it is magic." She said softly, blinking and dropping her eyes down as she gently tried to pull away, feeling awkward again. "Victor did it to punish my father, and to make sure that I could never try to run away from him or be rescued by my family." An old, familiar welling of shame gripped at her. "The last time I saw my father he looked at me in disgust and called me an abomination. All because of what Victor had done to me."

It broke his heart to hear that.  And suddenly he started to feel ashamed of himself.  Who was he to think his plight was terrible beyond all others?  Christer turned his eyes away, and felt his chest burn painfully.  He needed that tea now.  Still, his hands fumbled with it.

"That's...incredibly sad," he said, his hands finally finding the tea he'd had in his tent, and placed it in a small screened receptacle and carefully poured the water into the cup.  He let it brew, sitting more comfortably.  "You said Victor did this to punish your father...did he ever tell you why?"

Was it sad? A long time ago she had felt a lot of things about her situation. Alison could remember feeling angry, sad, and bitter for the longest time, but fear overshadowed everything even now. She shifted around until she felt more comfortable, pulling the blanket around her a little more.

"He did, many times, but he didn't have to. My father belonged to The Order of the Moon. They kill monsters like Victor. When father heard of an infestation of vampires he took his men and destroyed them. Except their leader escaped. Since father killed his "children" Victor took me. I was the youngest, and father's favorite so he knew it would hurt him most."

Alison paused to shudder. "Victor said I wasn't worthy of being a real vampire, but he forced me to drink his blood. He was my master after that. He made father bury all of his children, except me, before killing him too. Then he left me to die since my purpose was over."

Maybe Christer didn't have the capacity not to share his sympathy.  He was never so heartless, and perhaps that was his own undoing.  Not to pursue someone he was supposed to protect, to let them run off to some terrible fate...  That happened anyway, and it wasn't like he saved anyone anyway.  What kind of knight was he?

Oh there he went again feeling sorry for himself, he thought.  What good did that do for anyone?  He tilted his head to her story, understanding her plight a little better.

"That's tragic," he said.  "Almost like a fairy tale read to children."  Except this was real and the truth was huddled in a blanket right in front of him.  Christer kept his hands busy, making the tea at last once it was done brewing and offered her the cup.

He smiled and tried to appear welcoming.  Perhaps as a means to distract her from recalling those terrible memories.  "Here, for you," he said.

"Tragic? I guess...after so long I've become a little numb to it." Alison couldn't even recall the faces of most of her family members. Well, she remembered her father's face, that moment he found out what Victor had done to her. Her older brothers and sisters had aged without her and she hadn't exactly been welcome home after becoming a vampire's slave. "I'm surprised you believe me. I doubt everyone would. Or even most people."

She made a soft sound of surprise when Christer offered the tea to her. Looking rather sheepish she wrapped her hands around it. "Thank you. Here I am the one that should be serving you and you've been so kind to me. I promise I will make your trouble worth it. I can do lots of things now. I learned how to be a good servant. Mostly."

"I'm just as surprised as you are.  I guess stranger things have happened...  People that come from where I come from, tend not to believe things like that, or are quick to condemn it to the impurity of magic," he said.  He didn't feel like he had any right to condemn her, not after his own trespasses.  He was no saint.  He was in a way like her, a servant led astray.

He blushed a little, averting his gaze to fix himself some tea.  His hands were shaking a little.  But he tried to think little of it.  "I don't know if I'm worthy to serve, but I understand it was the place your old master put you in.  Maybe...we can be friends first, or at least refer to each other as that?  I'm not much for being the master of myself, let alone of someone else.  You said your father was Serenian, then you must know this country yes?  I have no one here.  I'm alone like you.  Perhaps you can help me...understand these strange people?"

"The impurity of magic?" Honestly she hadn't even realized that Christer might not be Serenian until that moment. Alison had no idea how close to the border of Connlaoth she had been abandoned. "The first thing you have to understand about Serendipity is that you're going to see magic pretty much everywhere. A very large amount of the people here have some type of magic."

She didn't even touch the idea of them being friends. When had she had a friend? It had been too long to really remember. Besides, Christer was her master now. She couldn't live without him. That didn't seem like friendship so much as her leeching off of him.

Alison brought her cup to her lips and sipped the tea thoughtfully. "Does it bother you? The idea of me serving you or calling you master? I think you'll be a very good master."

Christer hadn't know how to approach the fact that he was not Serenian with her, he thought it was quite apparent since he was not quite as slender as the others around him, but he supposed it wasn't a point of interest for her at the moment.  And neither was it for him.  It wasn't like being Connlaothian had given him anything more in life.  He wasn't any better off than she.

"It isn't something I'm used to," he said with a nod.  He met her gaze, searching her features.  "I don't think so.  I'm a bumbling fool.  I'm not even a very good knight."

It hardly made much of a difference where he was from. He had saved her life for no other reason, that she could see, than that he could. Alison felt her cheeks flush a little when his eyes caught hers, they were like a much darker pink than hers. "Well you don't have to be a good knight to be a good master."

She really wasn't sure why someone would object to having a willing slave. Of course back when Victor had first taken her she'd fought him with all her might, pitiful as it had been, but she had spent far longer a slave than free by this point. Freedom was unfamiliar, even frightening, to her after so long relying on a master to direct her actions, she didn't feel comfortable making her own decisions.

Alison was sure she was bound to make all the wrong ones. "I can call you Christer instead of master, if you prefer." It was only what she would be calling him. In her mind he was still Master.

He supposed it wouldn't be so bad.  It was a turn of events that though unexpected, made him somehow feel comforted in knowing he wasn't alone now.  Even if she didn't even know him or who he was exactly.  He was content in doing what he could to help her.

"Christer will be good," he agreed with a nod.  He smiled and sipped his tea quietly for a moment.  "We are going south further into Serendipity.  I forgot how could it could be in the mountains," he cleared his throat after a second.

"Are you feeling better now?  How's the tea?  Would you like some sugar in it?" he asked.  Clearly he'd gotten the grasp of what it was to be a master.

"Yeah, the mountains are a bit cold." Alison mused softly, still cupping her tea in both hands as she enjoyed the warmth seeping into her fingers. She scrunched her shoulders, shrinking down a little with a blush as he asked about her tea. "Oh no, that's okay. It was so nice of you to make me tea at all. It's good."

It hardly mattered if it was good or not. Christer's kindness made it good. She took another sip before clearing her throat softly. "Have you been to Serendipity before? My family is from Moonspear."

"I...have never been outside of Connlaoth.  All of my family is from the north.  Alrein, a small township.  My father was a knight.  His father was a knight.  I think you can probably see a pattern here," he said with a chuckle.  The warm tea was a nice distraction, and he sipped it when he wanted to mull over his awkwardness.

It was still sinking in he had to admit.  He wasn't accustomed to the thought of having a personal servant.  Which was probably why the name bothered him so much.  If they kept talking though, maybe it wouldn't be so weird.

"I've heard of Moonspear.  The name sounds...hrm, tough.  For a Serenian name.  No offense meant.  What is Moonspear like?  Tell me all about it."

Alison couldn't help but smile softly as he spoke of his family. A family tradition of knighthood was certainly admirable. Her father and brothers had served Serendipity as knights, specifically the Order, and she had great respect for knights. What young noble girl didn't admire knights as they grew up?

"Moonspear was named after the first Queen, who was Shaith the Moonspear, after the enchanted weapon she wielded, so I guess it would sound tough. It's in the Riverlands, and borders Kia's Court, which is the Queen's province. The rivers provide excellent trade routes so the province is prosperous." Alison furrowed her brow as she tried to think of other things to tell him about her previous home. "I think the current ruling family is Orlov...we don't have dukes in Serendipity, the provinces are ruled by the High Lords and Ladies."

Christer never did well with emotions, not when they were coming from someone else.  And not really when they were coming from his own person come to think of it.  But coping had little to do with the conversation at hand.  They both could only do with what life had given them.

"No wonder things are so crazy down south.  But...I guess up North isn't much better.  Our dukes are always fighting, many of them petty squabbles.  Nothing that has been serious, until recently."  He grew quiet, taking his time with the tea.

"To be honest, I've always been sort of curious about traveling.  I guess now that I'm doing it...it seems more daunting.  But I can't turn back.  I'm already headed in one direction.  It'd be senseless."

Alison didn't know what he meant about it not being a wonder things were crazy "down south" just going off what she'd said. Because they didn't have dukes? The High Lords and Ladies were fairly comparable in their roles, she thought. She was no High Lady, but she had been a lady, a long time ago.

"What made you decide to travel now?" A lot of people thought about traveling, not all of them ever went through with it. She supposed Victor had forced her to travel a little, but the farthest she'd wanted to go was to Arca and to her married home - wherever that would have been. "Was it the war? I heard things were bad right now." Well, even worse than usual. Mages always had it bad in Connlaoth, at least that was what she'd been taught. She didn't know why any of them bothered to stay in a country that hated them so.

"I..."  Christer didn't want to say it out loud.  It would make reality far too much to bear.  Yet the fact of the matter remained.  It was real, and he couldn't escape it.  He could only atone for what he'd done.  What kind of a knight was he if he didn't face up to his mistakes?  His accountability was all that would save him.

Or was he beyond redemption?

"I failed," he said quickly.  If only his tongue could maintain that speed of thought.  "I failed...my duty.  I made a mistake and now I must atone for it...  Do you know what it's like?  To have your whole life crumble around you in one fell swoop?"

Gods what a stupid question.  He immediately blanched.  "Oh, I'm sorry...I...wasn't ...thinking.  I never do..."

Alison wasn't sure what traveling had to do with atonement, or what mistake Christer could possibly have made that obviously upset him so much. His rather insensitive question did make her face fall a little, but that was more from thinking about her family than being insulted.

"It's okay." She said softly as he tried to apologize, setting her cup aside with a sigh. "Just because you think someone else might have it worse than you doesn't mean you can't feel bad about the horrible things that happened to you. I'm sorry that you feel like your life is in crumbles, but Serendipity isn't so bad. Maybe you can make a new, better life if you don't beat yourself up over past mistakes?"

"Thank you.  Those are kind words.  I'll think them over, I guess time is all I really have now.  And you so to speak.  I guess we're kind of lumped together in this now aren't we?" he asked with a chuckle.

Christer reached across and put a hand on her cheek, making sure the coldness he'd felt earlier had dissipated.  He smiled with some satisfaction, happy that he'd been able to help somebody.  Maybe she was right.  Maybe there were such things as second chances.

A smile twitched at the corner of her lips, a soft flush coming to her face as his hand pressed against her cheek.

"Yes, we are. We've got each other now, Christer. Neither of us have to face the world alone." She said softly, placing one of her hands against the back of his as she closed her eyes and pressed a little further into the warm touch.

He supposed it wasn't customary to toast with tea cups, even small wooden ones like what he'd had with him, but he was happy enough to do so in that moment.

"I'll toast to that," he said and lightly tapped her cup with his, only spilling a little bit of the tea out of it.  "Sorry.  I'm a little clumsy.  I'm surprised I didn't fall on my sword in squirehood."  He laughed.

"But...thanks though.  I mean it.  It's nice to...not be alone."

A soft giggle escaped Alison as their cups rapped together and a tiny amount of tea splashed over the edge. She brought her free hand up to cover her lips with two fingers as she tried to stifle the sound. It had been a long time since it had been safe to laugh or for there to be things to laugh about for that matter.

"It's nice to have good company." She agreed with a smile. "And don't apologize for being clumsy. I'm sure it just adds to your charms."

"Oh...h-huh?"  It didn't take much for his cheeks to flush burning red at the mention of 'charms' even if the word was meant in little more than innocent phrasing.

"Hrm, it's uh, uh-um.  I mean, thanks," he said with a smile, nodding to her.  "I'm just trying too hard I'm sure.  You should have seen me try and handle riding a horse for the first time.  I think I broke my wrist the first time.  Then sprained my ankle the second.  But I'm much better now I promise."

Her head tilted slightly as Alison observed Christer's now burning cheeks with a sheepish smile. Had she embarrassed him?

Whoops.

"Oh dear, really?" Her pink eyes were wide as she looked him over. It would be quite a rough go of things if her master was so prone to injury! At least she was there now. To her it sounded as if Christer was in need of someone looking after him. "Either way it sounds as if I will have my hands full trying to take care of you."

Great.  Now what did he do?  She now thought him clumsy and incapable of taking care of himself.  He supposed in part that was true.  This was all very new to him, and he forced himself to keep from focusing on the negative.  It was easier said than done.

"Oh...I guess I'm lucky to have found you then.  It'd be...nice to have someone looking out for me," he said, growing quiet.  "Gods is it hot in here?  Or is it just me?"  His cheeks were burning red.  And he avoided eye contact as he sipped his tea...until really he was sipping the nothing that remained.

A voice called his name from outside, and Christer stood to see it was the caravan master.  "Boy!  Get out here!  NOW!"

And Christer immediately obeyed.  "Y-yes?  Is something the matter?" he asked.

"Yes!  I told you to get firewood, and what did you come back with?  A girl!  A strange girl in the forest.  Who is she anyway?  She better not be thinking she can catch a ride for free when everyone else paid good money.  Including you!  No Stragglers!  Give her food and water and send her on her way."

"I-I can't!" Christer immediately countered.  "She needs help.  And I'm not going to leave her behind.  How could you be so heartless?  She's with me.  I-I'll work guard duty tonight or-or something....to make up for the inconvenience."

"I'm the lucky one, you saved my life. You're my master now, and I want to be a good slave. Taking care of you will be much nicer than serving him was." Alison pointed out, watching him with a tilt of her head. Had she done or said something wrong? He'd pointed out that the mountain was chilly just a couple minutes ago.

She jumped when a voice suddenly yelled for Christer. Her pink eyes went wide as she was left alone in the tent. For a moment she's forgotten that there were other people just on the other side of the flimsy walls.

Alison listened to the exchange silently for a few moments, until her sweet master was attempting to fumble for a way to make up for the inconvenience of having her there.

She couldn't let him shoulder any more trouble on her account. Gathering her skirts, she scrambled out of the tent, tears welling up in her eyes already. She didn't know how sympathetic this man could be persuaded to be, but tears couldn't hurt. Not that it took much to make her cry. "Wait, please. Sir, please don't take anymore out on Christer. It's my fault he didn't bring wood. He's been terribly kind to me and I understand that everyone has to pay their way. He shouldn't have to do even more for me."

Alison clutched her skirts, looking up at the caravan master and avoiding looking at Christer. "I- I don't have any money, but couldn't I earn my keep some other way? I'm a hard worker, even though I know I don't look like much. I can clean, I can sew, and I'm not a horrible cook. Can I pay with service, please?"

He hadn't expected Alison to show up beside him.  He didn't interrupt her sudden interception.  And the caravan master certainly looked surprised.  And probably not at all pleased with the action.  However, he kept his lips shut, and kept his arms crossed as a show of his displeasure.

He gave a grunt, one Christer was sure was going to follow a large wad of saliva catapulting from his mouth.  But instead he shook his head.  "Just don't make no trouble.  And you're with this one.  On guard duty.  We could always use more eyes to keep folks safe."

The caravan master stomped off away from him.  Christer unleashed a deep breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in.

"At least he didn't as you to scrub his boots," Christer said, nudging her side gently.

For the longest moment Alison worried that her only partially feigned display of helpless desperation wouldn't move the grumpy caravan master even an inch. It was a relief when he left with only instructions not to cause trouble and to join Christer on guard duty.

She blinked over at her master owlishly as he nudged her and attempted some humor on the situation. "Yes, but you're still doing extra work for me. I'm sorry Master, I tried."

"It's okay, Allison," Christer sighed and looked to her.  Honestly he hadn't really known what to expect when it came to having her...as attached to him as she now seemed.  Christer felt a jolt go through him, nobody ever bothered to speak up for him before, even if it was someone that now deemed herself is servant.  That aside, he thanked her anyway in a gentle squeeze on the arm.

"The Caravan Master is kind've a cranky old man. He would have conned me into working guard duty one way or another.  I guess I really should pull my weight around here.  Still, though, thanks for trying.  At least I won't be alone."

He smiled at her and gestured for her to go back into the tent.  The caravans usually didn't stop for long, not more than a few hours.  But it seemed, having come this far, an overnight stay wasn't going to hurt.  They still had a long ways to go.

The Caravan Master could be as cranky as he liked, as long as he didn't direct it towards her! Alison frowned softly, but it melted into a slight smile as she turned to look up at Christer as he thanked her. Victor never thanked her for anything. Of course she could never do anything good enough or right as far as he'd been concerned.

"At least we won't have to tip-toe around him forever." Surely once they were further into the country where the main roads could guide you they'd leave the caravan behind. Although what they'd do after that, she couldn't really say.

Sighing as she thought about it, Alison ducked back into the tent as her master had wanted. What would they do?

Night fell gradually and when the time came for his patrol, Christer was ready. Maybe he looked ridiculous in his get up, but he couldn't help it.  He was a knight, a respected warrior, or so he told himself when he tied his sword belt around his waist.  He supposed if Alison was going to be helping him, she couldn't very well stand watch with him unarmed. So he gave her his dagger, and tied the belt securely around her waist.

"You ready? It's going to be an all nighter," he said, gently prodding her side with his elbow.  "Here you can take my cloak, it will get fairly chill."  He wrapped the woolen cloak around her shoulders and threw the hood over her head just for good measure.

Things were very quiet once back inside the tent. Alison was too tired to ask questions, and didn't want to irritate her master by talking too much anyway. Since they would have to spend the night guarding the caravan she took the time until nightfall to sleep while she could.

When it was time to go she got up without complaint, watching Christer get ready and mostly just waiting. What could she even do to prepare for guarding anything? She really doubted she'd prove much of a guard, but if it kept her master out of trouble, then it was just what she would have to do.

Even if she blushed and fidgeted nervously as the dagger was belted around her waist.

"Ready." Alison's voice squeaked softly. She doubted very much that she was ready but there wasn't much else for it. Surely they'd just walk around a bit and be bored, right? Her pale cheeks flushed again as the cloak was wrapped around her, hiding under the hood thankfully as it was pulled over her. "But won't you be cold?"

"I'll be okay," he said.  "I'll be next to you. So it shouldn't be too bad."  He tried to smile, but even that felt forced.  Truth be told he didn't quite like being on guard duty. He deserved his sleep just like everyone else, so why couldn't the caravan master find someone else more willing for the task.  But...he would carry his own crucifix if necessary.  Alison herself didn't deserve it either.

"I'm sorry," he said, finding himself apologizing. "You didn't have to do this...  You still don't.  I mean...would you like to go back inside instead? You deserve rest."

"I'm not sure that I'll help much with keeping warm." Even as she said it Alison pulled the cloak a little tighter about herself. Her pale skin was usually cool to the touch. The cold didn't bother her quite as much as it used to, but warmth had left her a long time ago. It probably had to do with her cold vampire master.

She shook her head, peering up at him from beneath the hood. "I don't deserve rest any more than you do. It's my fault you got stuck with guard duty."

There wasn't any fighting to be done about who should do what, and it was high time Christer accepted his fate. Going about the fire, he crossed his arms over his chest and sighed, small puffs of white emerging from his lips as the night cooled considerably.

"When you say things like that? What do you mean?" he asked. "I mean when  you say you don't deserve such things?  Or take the blame when you shouldn't? Frankly, it piques my curiosity."

Alison trailed behind him, rather unsure about what else to do except stay close to his side. With her old master abandoning her she still felt very lost and was desperately clinging to her only lifeline. Christer had saved her life, and as far as she was concerned, was now her master. She'd been a slave and servant for so long she didn't know what else she could possibly be except more of the same.

"I don't understand the question?" Her breath produced a fine mist as well, and she kept her head tucked down, not looking up at him. "I don't deserve anything, and I am to blame. If not for me you would have gotten your firewood and the caravan master would not be annoyed with you."

"Now that is an untruth," Christer shrugged. "For all you know, I could have gotten the firewood, brought it back, and the caravan master would have still been annoyed with me. You don't decide how he feels, he's just a grumpy old man that probably tries to masturbate to no avail. And I'm just the current object of his wrath. All we can ever do is whatever we can to make things easier for others."

He smiled at her, amused a little by her incredulity. "You have nothing to do with that. And you deserve, if anything, kindness. Because you have treated me that way with nothing but."

Alison couldn't stop the grimace that crossed her face at the very mention of the grumpy master trying and failing to masturbate. What a very unpleasant image to poke into her mind! No, she very much did not want to think about that.

"I've treated you with kindness?" Had she? Honestly she wasn't sure if she had been kind to him. Christer was the one that had given her a taste of his own blood just so she could live. She, a stranger that meant, or should mean, nothing to him. "You are the kind one, Ma- Christer. Nobody has been so kind to me since...almost before I can remember. Since I was stolen from my family, for certain."

"Then let us agree on our mutual kindness and let that rest," he murmured, smiling gently at her. "So, as your....erm, interim master, I command you to....uh, stop feeling sorry for yourself."

He blushed, embarrassed that he even tried to say that and shrugged.  "It's a surprisingly quiet night.  Or maybe I'm just easily distracted.  Say, did you notice anything strange?  Or is that bush moving far across the camp?"

He pointed to a plant-like shape to a tent far from the fire, a dim thing with sprigs of branches and flowers over it, sliding across the ground.

Was it feeling sorry for herself if she truly felt as if she deserved every bad thing that happened to her? Alison sighed and hugged herself subtly. "I'll...try?"

It was a strange request, but everything was strange to her right now. After so long with her old master nothing felt quite right, even if things looked as if they would be better going forward. Christer was a kind man and would not be an abusive or cruel master. He didn't seem to really want to be a master at all, he just didn't want her to die.

"A bush is moving?" Alison peer across camp at the flowers and leaves sliding over the ground. That really was strange. She gave a soft whimper and half hid behind him, grabbing his shirt lightly. "Yes, I see it."

Christer hoped it was just a trick of the light. The darkness had a way of making the mind see that which wasn't really there. As much as he wanted to believe it, a cold sensation slipped into his gut. And he knew that it was his duty to investigate what it was exactly.  He reached behind and gently clutched her hands.  "It's fine I'm sure.  I'll...go look."

She had a dagger, she'd be okay!  He assured himself of this and freed her from his grasp, carefully crouching forward and wandering toward the shifting bush.  It seemed rather benign and he took a torch with him just to get a better look.  It seemed that way and he waved back to her.

"It's just a bush," he murmured.  And that was when a humanoid figure burst from hiding and swung their blade rightward.  Christer was momentarily caught off guard the edge of the blade catching the torch and making him reel backwards.

"Its!  IT'S NOT A BUSH!" He howled, trying to pull his sword out.

Alison nodded her head numbly at his attempt to reassure that it everything was fine. Not that she felt like things were fine. Still, she gripped his hands tightly for a moment, but reluctantly let go when he crouched forward.

She felt like maybe she should be doing something, but what could she do? Terrified, she clutched the dagger Christer had buckled around her waist earlier and leaned forward. It felt super heavy. In reality it probably wasn't that heavy, but never in her life had she actually used a weapon on someone. The idea of hurting someone turned her stomach.

Too much of her life had been spent being hurt for her to be comfortable inflicting harm onto someone else.

That was one reason her heart jumped into her throat when Christer howled out that it wasn't a bush. Although the bigger worry was immediately his safety. What would she do if harm came to her brand new master? She couldn't live without him and didn't think she would find another kind soul to take a wretch like her in before she died.

"We're under attack!" Alison shouted as loud as her little lungs could manage. They'd been standing watch, so alerting everyone was what she should do!

That was the end of her knowledge of what she should do.

It was the end of her knowledge as to what she ought to do, but for Christer this was just the beginning. As he flailed backwards, he managed to pull his blade out in time to deflect another strike but it just gave his opponent time to press the attack.

Christer dropped the torch onto a tent beside him, and the cloth caught flame just the other caravaners began to rise from their slumbers. To his horror, this bush wasn't the only one that was odd outside their encampment. And others soon joined their assault, brush-clad bandits, pulling branches and leaves off their person, as they got to work slaying those that couldn't defend themselves.

Christer pulled out the blade and as the man came forward, he shoved the blade deep into his gut, screaming as he did so, more because he was terrified than in the rush of adrenaline.  And as the tent beside him caught fire, he looked up and around.  "ALISON!"

What terrible sounds! Metal scrapping against metal, and then screams as more and more attackers appeared, hacking at those not quick enough to rise from their beds.

Everything became chaotic so quickly, Alison could have sworn she had barely blinked before fire was rising from one of the tents. Where had Christer gone?

She had stumbled back and fallen to the ground, shuffling back along the ground trying to avoid notice as she shakily pulled the dagger from her belt and held it before her in a very pathetic show. One of the bandits caught sight of her, coming towards her with evil purpose. She heard her name being called. "MASTER!"

"ALISON!" Christer called out again, trying to avoid much of the chaos. It was nigh impossible and as he maneuvered around the side of the encampment, only there did he see another of the bandit's heading straight for her.  Except he didn't think he was going to reach her in time.

Christer pulled out a tent post, wrenching it from the ground and raised it over his head like javelin. It wasn't a spear, had nowhere near the accuracy, and even this wasn't something he was practiced in. But it was his closest chance.

And he flung the post out over his shoulder, the point flying forward like a massive arrow, and hitting the bandit in the neck, making his body flail over Alison's.

With all the other noise it was hard to hear, but she thought she heard her name again. Christer was calling for her, but he didn't sound close enough to help her. Alison thought that she might die here after all. She had tried so hard to survive since being abandoned, and just as things looked as if they might turn out okay, something like this had to happen.

Holding the dagger out in shaking hands, she closed her eyes tightly and waited to feel herself being hacked to pieces like the people she could still hear screaming.

Nothing stabbed her, but she did scream and open her eyes in shock when something heavy fell on her. It took a few moments for her to realize it was a person. A dead person. The man that had been about to attack her. She let out another strangled scream and began flailing desperately to try to wiggle out from under the body.

Blood was dripping all over her! It might have seemed weird to someone else, that it would freak her out so much considering she drank blood to survive, but that was only her master's blood, and only because she absolutely had to!

Somehow she managed to half shove the body off and squirm her way free, dragging herself through the bloody mud. She was still clutching the dagger tight in one hand as she looked around frantically for her master. Was he okay? Why hadn't she stayed right at his side? What if he left her? Christer had been kind to her so far, but she did not see why he might go out of his way or endanger himself for her sake.

"Master?!" Alison called out to him feebly as she stumbled to her feet again, heading towards Christer almost blindly as the fire, smoke, and utter chaos made her feel a little disoriented.

The moment the body fell on top of Alison, Christer lost sight of her.  His heart was already about to burst from his chest and leave behind cavity of hysteria to be taken as another body to the earth. As if the earth could even handle all the anxiety he had floating in his head.

So Christer shot forward, pushing past the old caravan master that had tried to intervene before him, and Christer completely ignored anything that spewed from his mouth. No words could abide him, and Christer rounded the tent to the other side, reaching to pluck Alison into an embrace amidst the chaos.

"Thank Ansgar's balls!" he prayed loudly.  "We've got to get the hell out of here!"

Because stating the obvious clearly made the situation that much better.

There was no organized counterbalance around them. And even as innocents got slaughtered, soon the bandits joined the dead around them, as weapons were brandished and skewered bodies left and right. The fire now began to spread across from one tent to another, and even lit one of the bandits on fire with the foliage he had covered himself in.

Trembling arms immediately clung to him, as Alison near collapsed against him with a choked cry of both terror and relief. Her master would protect her, Christer would keep her safe! She told herself that, and then convinced herself it was an absolute truth. After all, she had relied upon her master to care for and protect her near as long as she'd been alive. Just because it was a different master than before didn't mean that had changed.

"We have to hurry!" She pleaded as she collected herself once more, forcing back the fear as best she could. If she was too scared to move she would only be a burden and hindrance to her master.

Alison grabbed him by the sleeve, tugging urgently as she pointed towards what appeared to be a small opening or lull in the chaos. The bandits had surrounded the camp, but most were already engaged with those members of the caravan that had taken up arms.

"Master this way," she urged again, trying to pull him with her.

Christer didn't know if they could escape. Every corner around them seemed to be covered by chaos. Or perhaps he was simply delirious from the adrenaline and his heart was pounding wildly in his chest.  Suddenly he whirled around and looked towards his tent.  Pulling Alison with him.

"M-my horse!" he cried out and wrenched himself back toward the direction of his own part of camp.  The animal fought against his tether, and raised himself up on hind legs to thrash wildly against his attackers.  Christer's fog cleared the closer he got, and he raised his blade to cut between the shoulder and neck of a bandit that tried to ensare him.

"Quickly!  On the back of it!" Christer blurted and reached around to snatch Alison up, throwing her onto the back of it. The blade hacked against the tether and he climbed up behind her, turning the horse with his legs and snatched his hands into the mane, the horse ready to bolt into the trees.

A soft squeak escaped her, pink eyes wide and terrified as she felt herself wrenched in another direction. Any protest died in her throat as she clung to Christer as he pulled her along a different way. Alison felt rather helpless to do anything at all. Besides, her first instinct was to trust her master and do as he wished.

So they ran to his horse.

When Christer cut down another bandit she couldn't help but let out a soft scream, throwing her hands over her eyes. There was too much violence! Too much blood! She didn't want to see anymore.

She gasped as she was lifted from the ground and tossed onto the back of this horse she did not know and that didn't know her. When had even been the last time she'd ridden a horse? Alison didn't know, and her arms instinctively reached for Christer as he jumped up behind her. Her body was awkwardly in the saddle, but it didn't matter. She buried her face against him, clinging for dear life as they took off.

Alison might have been sobbing against his chest. She really wasn't even sure at this point.

Christer wasn't any hero, and he knew he was going to die if he stayed. As would Alison, and he'd be damned if he was going to lose someone he was protecting twice. She had asked him for help, God help them both.

They galloped out of there, Christer's horse [coughwhoneedsanamecough], pounded loosened earth, disappearing into the nearby trees. He didn't know where he was going, and frankly he didn't give a damn, he just wanted to get away from the blood and iron filling the air with mist. 

The sounds behind them drew further away, and suddenly there was just silence between them, save for Alison's sobs. And only then did Christer realize he too had been crying.  His chest suddenly heaved with the lapse of adrenaline and be buried his face in her hair.

"Gods, I'm so sorry, Alison! I almost got you killed!!!!" he sobbed against her.

Maybe Christer wasn't a hero, but at least he wasn't completely useless. Alison on the other hand felt like worse than dead weight. People dying all around her and all she could do was scream and cry and run.

The silence as they grew far enough away was almost worse than the sounds of screaming and dying. Had anyone else escaped? Could others have escaped if they had helped fight off the bandits? Of course they would both have likely been slaughtered with the rest of the members of the caravan, but she couldn't help the survivors guilt that ate at her heart.

It was the sound of his sobs joining hers, and his apology, that got her to attempt to get herself back under control. Alison managed to suppress her cries to shuddering breaths and sniffling hiccups. She had never had to comfort her master before. It felt a little strange. Her body was still pressed against his as she clung to him in the saddle, but she tried rubbing his back in a soothing gesture.

"No Master, no. It was those nasty men. You saved me." He'd saved her twice now! She really did owe him. Somehow she would find a way to repay him for it.

Christer shuddered against her, trying to get a hold of himself. The stress compounded in the after shock of battle and then came the gradual realization that he could have very nearly gotten her killed. Yes he blamed himself, and he knew that bringing her into that camp was his doing, and having her guard with him was his as well.

"No-no, I didn't save you. You nearly got killed, and I was supposed to protect you. It almost happened again, and I'm sorry, Alison. This is exactly what happened with the last noble I was meant to serve," he hiccuped against her.  Somehow the sorrow was compiling on even more now.

When his lungs ached for breath, only then did he pull away, slipping from the saddle of his horse and trying to calm himself, wiping uselessly at his eyes, which were now red and sore and his nose giving only swollen sniffs.  "Fucking hell," he hissed, trying to get a hold of himself. "I'm sorry."  Turning back to her he laid his head against the side of horse's neck, and he felt the pulse racing therein.

"Don't call me, Master, Alison. Please. It's too much to be borne," he sniffed, looking up at her with glossy eyes and a face burning with shame.

Except if he hadn't brought her into camp with him she would surely have died alone out in the forest, and it was she who had saddled herself with guard duty.

Alison was holding him, letting him sob and trying to soothe him, but she tensed up at the mention of the last noble he was meant to serve. That was not at all right, and this was not the same at all! "I'm not a noble, and you don't serve me. I-I serve you!"

Yes, maybe her father had been a lord, and if her life had been very, very different she would have been a lady and married to a lord and so many other things. Her life wasn't different though. She truly did feel helpless and useless as he slid from the saddle. Not having him to cling to nearly tipped her right off the back of the horse, but she grabbed the pommel and shook softly.

She was cold and upset. Looking down at Christer only made her feel worse. His face was all botched with his crying, and overall her master seemed rather pitiful in that moment. Why did he have to apologize?

"Don't be sorry. I'm sorry. With all the chaos, and I was so afraid...I forgot. Calling out for my master was just...I know you want me to call you Christer. I'll try to remember better." Alison blushed, looking down with shame that she had disappointed or upset him. Using the title master felt more natural for her, but she would get used to calling her new master by name, because that was what he wanted. She was determined to please him and be a good servant to him.

Christer did his best to push the disappointment out of him. Drowning in a sea of his own self-pity was never what his father would have wanted from him, and he knew that if his family saw him now, they would think very little of him. Feeling sorry for himself had gotten him nowhere. Now here he was right in the middle of it.

And the person that needed him now was sitting alone on top of that horse, and he'd made his promise. She was still alive, or as alive as she could be in comparison to the rest of the caravaners, and here he was wallowing in his misery. Christer took in a deep breath, looking up at Alison, no longer crying and only sniffling a little.

One hand on the sword at his side, Christer staggered over to Alison and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face against her.  He was just thankful that this time, he hadn't failed. Almosts were not certainties. Could haves were not dids.  "Can we both be sorry?  At least just a little," he said muffled through the cloth on her leg, shifting his face to look up at her.

Never in her life had Alison felt more like a fish out of water. The poor girl felt she was floundering and far out of her depth in this situation. At least she was no longer crying. Her pale face was a bit puffy and her eyes were red and swollen, but the overwhelming emotions of fear were back under control for the moment. Too bad they had been replaced with confusion.

Letting go of her death grip on the saddle with one hand, she used that hand to smooth over Christer's hair when he held her by the waist and laid his head almost in her lap. She wished there was a better way to reassure him, because so far she didn't have a clue what to do or say.

"Yes...I suppose so." Alison still didn't think he had a reason to be sorry, but if it made him happy (or at least appeased him), then how was she to deny him? It wasn't as if she could make him feel a certain way. Although she could try. There was bound to be some way to cheer his mood eventually. For now somber seemed rather apt. They'd just survived a bandit attack, after all.

"Um, Christer...what should we do now?" She didn't really know where they were, and she looked around at the darkness timidly. What if bandits followed them? They could find them eventually, unless they ran far enough for them to give up. "I don't like it here. Can we please go further?"

Not that she knew how far might be far enough to make her feel safe again.

Yes she was right. Christer climbed up behind her on the horse again, and carefully took those cut reins back in hand again. The horse was calmer now that the danger was farther away. With Christer firmly planted behind her, his arm slipped around her and for once he was thankful for her presence. Even if he was a little pathetic in showing it.

"I think the only thing we can do is try to find some kind of town. Maybe alert their guard that there are bandits up the road. Find some kind of shelter, for the night.  But either way we have to keep going. I'm not going to risk them finding us again," he said, voice firmer now, and the air cooling his hot flushed face.

Christer kept his chest firmly pressed to Alison's back.  "I...I know I keep apologizing. I...don't know what came over me. I haven't been that scared in a long time. I also have never...been in a real bandit attack before."

A sense of relief went through her when Christer rejoined her. She leaned back slightly against him, into his warmth. No matter how pathetic he seemed to think his performance during the raid had been, Alison felt safer tucked against his chest. Plus the warmth, she was cold.

"I've never been in one either, but I'm always scared. It's okay to be scared. You can't be brave if you aren't afraid." Right? Sure thing! Christer had been brave enough to save her from that one bandit and then get her to relative safety. As far as she was concerned her master was vastly heroic and good.

Christer guided the horse down the hillside, finding a small passage that the horse picked his way downward. He chuckled enough to feel calmer. She had a good point at that, even if Christer hadn't felt very brave at the time. There was a small shame at leaving everyone else behind, but at least in his cowardice he didn't leave her behind.

"Thank you," he murmured. "I'm...pretty good at being afraid. I was a castle guard for most of my training. I figured it would be an easy job one that would afford me a comfortable career and I would never really have to do anything. But then...the daughter of the noble I served ran away, and I was the only one that went after her.

"When I came back and was without her, I knew I failed then. And I've kind of been on the road since then."  He cleared his throat and reaffirmed his grip around her waist.

He blushed and just rested his chin against her shoulder for a short while as the ground flattened out and the trees parted as a stream rushed out beside them.  It would be nice for the horse to drink for a bit and for Chister to wash the blood off his face.  "Do you want to clean up?" he asked, looking at her from over her shoulder.

Sure there was pity for those left behind, but Alison wouldn't have changed the fact that they had run from it all. The life of her master was worth far more than that of anyone else to her. Saving themselves was just looking out for their own best interests. Although she still felt her life was quite expendable next to his.

He barely knew her, but he had saved her anyway.

Nestled on the saddle in front of him, with his arm securely about her waist and his chin on her shoulder, Alison listened quietly to his story. She felt a pang of sadness for him. Her entire life had become a giant failure, so she thought she could understand his pain at least a little.

"It isn't your fault, you know. None of the others even tried, at least you did that much. If she ran away, then she obviously wanted to be gone. If you hadn't failed him you'd have failed her, right?" She grew silent again for a moment, before continuing even more softly than before. "I didn't run away, but no one tried to save me."

Alison shook her head, driving away the dreary thoughts. Or at least trying to. His question did make her perk up a little. Bandit blood had been splattered across her and she was eager to get it off her skin. Too bad it was staining her clothes. "Yes please!"

Christer rolled that thought over and over in his mind. She would have been gone anyway, whether or not he was there. That was a harsh reality to swallow, but it made it no less true.  No matter what he did, it changed nothing. He was here now with Alison, and he forced himself to focus on the present.

After all, it was supposed to be a gift, wasn't it?

Slipping from the back of his horse, he helped her down and sat down beside a rock alongside the water. He unstrapped his boots, pulling them off and setting them aside, unstrapping his greaves until he was just in his breaches. "If you want to wash up alone, I can, er, turn around I guess?  You don't need me gawking at you. I can tend to the horse," he smiled and stood up, stepping over the smooth pebbles and unsaddling the animal brush them down.

Too bad he left his brush back at camp.

As soon as her feet were on the ground, Alison nearly skipped over to the running water, crouching down at the edge to test it. It was near freezing cold, definitely fed by a mountain spring. At least it was fresh and clean.

She turned to watch as Christer stripped to his breeches, trying to take her cues from him. After all, she didn't know how long he intended to be stopped. His partial undressing suggested for at least long enough to properly scrub herself down. Although with the temperature she thought cleaning quickly was for the best. They didn't even have a tent for shelter now.

"It's okay if you see, Christer. There's no one else out here and it'll be hard to avoid seeing each other a little if we're going to be traveling together." Alison smiled at her master, shaking her head a little as she pulled off her slippers and stockings. Next she wiggled out of her dress down to her slip, which was thin and only reached to about her mid-thigh. "Did you lose everything back at the caravan? When we reach a town I can help you find replacements."

The slip was the last thing to go onto her clothing pile. It was a good thing she was used to being cold, because she hissed as she stepped into the water, but only up to her ankles as she crouched down and poured handfuls of the frigid water over her skin as she rubbed at the blood and dirt, washing herself as quickly as she could.

His initial intention had been to undress and bathe quickly himself. He couldn't remember the last time he had a proper bath in a not-river, and indoors at that. Daring and hoping to dream would only make him long for the place he once called him. That world was no longer.

Just as he sat down to pull off his tunic, he watched her from the corner of his eye and stared. Oh God, what was wrong with him. Christer's gaze was momentarily averted when she asked him a question. Wait, what was that? 

"Ooh, um.  I...guess so. I had everything else that wasn't already attached to the saddle. But I guess there's little point now in mourning it," he murmured, peeking out from behind the horse to spy her again.  She was beautiful, and he didn't want to say anything that might ruin what brief glimpse she allowed him. Truthfully they were probably going to see a lot of each other like this. So he saw it best as she did to simply get it over with as quickly as possible.

So off came the breaches until he was as bare as see was and quietly skirted around the horse, that drank slowly and daintily above them.  Christer tiptoed to the edge and crouched, trying to hide his own manhood and found it was probably easier if he just skirted further into the waters.  "Ansgar's balls!" he abruptly cried at the chill that coursed up through him.

And lost his footing and landed on his ass against the embankment pebbles.

"No, I guess not, but we will still need to get essentials." Alison shivered against the cold, and the water certainly wasn't helping. Her pale skin was covered in goosebumps. She hadn't glanced in his direction since she began undressing, and so didn't notice his gaze lingering over her.

Even if she had, well, she had said it was alright if he saw. Eighty years ago she'd have been mortified at the idea of a man watching her while she was naked, but her old master had been a sadistic vampire. Having Christer see her naked was nothing compared to some of the awful things Victor had done to her through the years.

She had managed to at least get the blood off when suddenly Christer shouted and fell. Alison started, whirling around and losing her own footing in the process. With a soft splash she landed in the water, smacking her butt against the smooth rocks on the bottom.

"Ow." Was all she could say for a moment. For a moment she had been completely terrified, fearing that maybe the bandits had found them. Realizing that her master had simply been alarmed at how cold the water was - and how he'd fallen on his ass - Alison momentarily forgot that she was sitting in the cold stream herself and started laughing.

It had been a while since she had genuinely laughed out loud, and the sound was one of relief as much as humor.

Maybe it wasn't a big deal to her, but Christer just didn't see naked women on a daily basis. So it was somewhat jarring to just see breasts as plain as day. He could appreciate them, however, and he smiled at the state they were both in, asses flopped into the water.  As much as his bum hurt, he chuckled, slowly at first and then loudly, cackling with his head thrown backwards.

"Gods, we are a pair aren't we?" he said, snorting and getting up to walk over to her, forgetting momentarily about his nakedness. He crouched down to help her up and pulled her up beside him. Christer smiled sweetly, sobering now that he had gotten over his inhibitions.

"Are you okay? Your bum's not too bruised is it?"

Well at least he was laughing too. Alison would never have dared laugh at Victor, not for any reason. Laughing felt so good, she almost didn't want to stop, but managed to stifle herself to giggles at Christer's comment, watching him walk over while covering her mouth a bit to try to further subdue her mirth.

Plus there was an eyeful. They were both naked, but it didn't bother her too much. Sure, she felt a little curious - he wasn't like Victor at all! Everything about Christer was warmer and more appealing.

Forcing herself to keep her eyes upwards, she accepted his help, hauling herself out of the water with a bit of a grin. Although his question made her pull a bit of a face, one hand rubbing her sore butt where she'd hit it on the rocks. There was probably going to be a bruise later, but nothing too terrible. Sitting in the saddle was going to be even less fun.

A moment later she was chuckling again and shaking her head though. "I'm okay. Are you?"

His hold was steady until she was upright and he kept his hand only on hers because he had failed to pull it away. And even still he didn't want to. Her touch was soothing, after all it was she that roused him from his self-loathing.

He smiled and brought her hand to his belly, vaguely grasping it closer to his heart, as if it were an endearing thing, and he blushed as he carefully let it go. "I'm okay," he nodded to her. "Maybe we should look out for each other on the water yeah? You wash my back, I'll wash yours. Hm....maybe less figuratively than I meant."

He maneuvered around behind her and saw her back.  "Oh...you haven't had a bath in a while huh?"

There had been a faint rosy tint to her normally pale cheeks already, but that was due to the laughing and sting of the cold on her face. As he pulled her hand against his stomach she felt her face flush a little for an entirely different reason - even more so when he blushed and let go. It took a moment for her to pull her hand away, but for the first time since undressing she felt shy and a touch awkward as she looked away.

"N-no. I've been out here alone since..." Well he knew since she'd been abandoned, but she didn't know how long that had been. A few days? When had been the last time Victor had let her enjoy a bath before that?

Alison blushed even harder, finally feeling self-conscious as she looked down at the water with embarrassment and wrapped her arms around herself. "I don't like being dirty, sorry."

"Don't be sorry. You have every right to be clean. And if you're going to serve me, we'll both have to make an effort on cleanliness, no?" Christer offered and washed the dirt off her back. "It'll keep the both of us... Or just me I guess, relatively alive.  And that's good for you if I heard you right."

He scraped off anything that was too hard to get and although his touch was gentle, it was firm enough to get the job done.

"There, all grime free. At least there.  Now, you get my back?  Makes the washing easier, yes?" Christer said and cleared his throat. Because he'd been staring at her back for a few minutes, and just south of her back was her behind.  Which he only briefly touched with a quick swipe of his hand to pluck off a pebble that had gotten stuck to her left cheek.

"I am alive." Alison protested softly, "But yes, you alive is very good for me. I can't stay alive if you aren't." She still kept her arms wrapped around her front sheepishly as his hands swiped away the days of accumulated filth from her back.

When he plucked away the pebble from her behind she blushed and only jumped a little. A sigh of relief rushed out of her when he declared she was done, and she turned to look up at him.

"It's kind of nice to have someone to wash your back. Even if the water is very cold." If they had access to a warm bath she doubted they'd be helping each other bathe, though. Christer seemed a bit shy about the whole idea of seeing her naked at first. They'd have probably taken separate baths.

Alison carefully circled around behind him, holding his arm to help keep her from slipping again. She used enough water to loosen any dirt, blood, or sweat, then gently and thoroughly wiped it away. Like him, she made a point not to go too far down his back, but she did give a quick look to make sure that he didn't have pebbles stuck to him. There were a couple small ones she dusted off quickly. "You're going to have a big bruise on your backside. It's already darkening a little."

She didn't laugh, because she knew she probably was going to have one too.

While she was busy thwacking rocks off his butt, Christer jumped a little at the contact, and flushed furiously. Easy now, he chided himself.

"You think so?  Is my backside big enough for a big enough bruise?" he asked and turned his head to look over his shoulder. "I think I got so used to standing in one place, I didn't even know the bum could bruise like that."  He chuckled, trying to push away the awkwardness of it all. Really though, he was the only one that was embarrassed.

"Okay then. With our backs washed, I guess I'll take care of Checkers," he said, gesturing to the horse. "Um, thanks, Alison."  He didn't walk away just yet, and turned to face her, smiling small. He didn't quite know how to finish a conversation like this. So he did the only thing he could think of and leaned in to quickly peck her on the cheek before maneuvering himself over to the horse.

"Oh yes, it is as easy to bruise as any other part of a person, but don't worry - you don't have a big butt. I mean, for a man. I...guess? I haven't looked at a great deal of them to really compare..." It just wasn't something you went around doing. Alison didn't make a habit of staring at men's behinds, as a general rule.

She blinked up at Christer in confusion when he thanked her. He didn't have to thank her for anything, as her master it was her duty and, in his case, pleasure to help him in any way that she could. She even got so far as to open her mouth to say as much when he bent down to kiss her cheek.

Alison's pink eyes widened slightly and her cheeks flushed. It was such a sweet, innocent gesture. She wasn't used to affectionate attention, although she supposed it shouldn't have surprised her from him. He was so nice to her.

When he went over to take care of Checkers she hurried over to her clothes and started pulling them back on. She was cold and they would help some. Snuggling against Christer while they rode father would be even warmer. Were they even going any farther tonight? "Should we...try to find an okay place to sleep and try to find a town in the morning?"

Christer shivered a little coming out of the water. He wasn't sure if it was because of being wet though. His flushed skin was cooled in the chilly air and he wandered over to Checkers to brush him down and massage the sores in his back. He supposed if they had to camp at some point. Checkers gave him an expectant look as if there were still apples in the saddlebags.

Where there some?

"I don't really know where I'm going," Christer admitted, looking at the stream and the direction it flowed. "But I think we could probably find something within traveling distance down that way."  He got redressed and shrugged his tunic back over his shoulders.  He placed the belt back around his waist, securing it tightly and looked sadly at Checkers.

"Sorry, bud. We're going to have to go riding again before we'll get some good hay for you, okay?"  Replacing the saddle back onto the horse, he climbed on and pulled Alison up along with him. "So, you're from Moonspear right? What was it like, growing up in Serendipity?"

"I don't either." Alison sighed softly, because she was just as lost as he was. This was unfamiliar territory for her. They were much too far north for her to recognize anything at all. She'd never been so close to the Connlaothian border before. "Yes, following water is usually a good way of finding more people."

She watched him saddle the horse again and felt bad that the poor thing didn't get to rest and eat before being put to work again. It couldn't really be helped, she guessed.

Her mind was completely taken off worrying about Checkers when Christer pulled her back into the saddle. With a sigh she resumed snuggling against his chest. He really was so warm to her. Alison hummed softly at his question, thinking it over before speaking quietly. "I doubt it was that different from growing up most anywhere else. I had two older brothers, and three older sisters. Mother made me take lessons and Father doted on me. Aaron and Samuel picked on me because they were brats, but they also would have beat anyone else up if they ever made me cry. Molly, Sarah, and Annie taught me how to embroider and dance."

She trailed off at the end, going quiet and just thinking back to her family. It was so easy to see them all again now, in her mind. Alison tried to forget that they were all dead. She forced down the sadness as best she could. "What about you? Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

Her response was something to listen to while they traveled to. And he relished the pressure she left on his chest. Even if it had felt awkward at first, he settled into it, and didn't see any reason to fight it. There wasn't any harm in letting her relax against him. Her hair smelled like the river.

"Hmm, I had a brother. Gratien," he said gently as Checkers flicked his ears as if he were listening too. "He was a soldier in the Connlaothian army. Serving the Grand Duke. But he died not too long ago. I miss him a lot. He used to tease me about wanting to be a knight, but I knew secretly he was proud.  Our father was a knight. Erikur. And my mother was Farrah. She went through a lot between the two of them...  Funny, until now, I never thought about not being able to see them again. It does leave me a little forlorn."

He felt himself unconsciously squeeze Alison tighter to him and he curled his shoulders into her. "Sometimes I feel like my brother is watching over me. But that's a silly thought isn't it?"

Alison's reaction to the extra squeezing was unconscious as well, pressing into him and seeking comfort from him. Perhaps a little selfishly, but Victor had never been a comforting presence for her.

"I don't think it's silly. It would be comforting to think any of my family was still watching over me. I'm sorry about your family Christer." Losing her family had been hard, so she could empathize very well with being forlorn, as he put it. She's just had a lot more time to adjust herself to the loss, even though it still hurt if she thought about it too hard or too long.

Absently one of her hands stroked his upper arm, hoping that she could be a comfort to him as much as he was for her.

For him it had been just the opposite. No time to adjust, no moment to truly fathom what had happened except to deal with it. Christer had lost everything he knew that was his life in a matter of months, and he knew that if he took a moment to stop and think about it, it would all coming flooding back to him.

And for now he'd spent enough time feeling sorry for himself.

Eyes flicked to her hand on his arm. It did, and a gentle chill trembled up his arm and back.  He relaxed against her as Checkers picked his way down hill and when the sound of wood creaking nearby snapped his attention, Christer looked up, and saw a waterwheel slowly turning against the flow of the stream.  And just as if he'd predicted it, there it was.  A village.

Small and a little squat, but it's quaint appearance was a much needed relief and Christer smiled for the first time in a long time. "At least we can get some real food here," he said. "I'm sure Checkers is real tired too."

The horse only glared at him.

They traveled in relative silence, but Alison didn't feel like it was awkward at all. She was weary and cold, but snuggling against Christer helped with both. So much so, that she drifted asleep there in the saddle. Creaking wood didn't wake her, but the sound of her master's voice did.

Sleepily she opened her pink eyes and looked around, catching sight of the village and making a soft sound of surprise.

"Food and rest would be good." The frail girl yawned, before reaching down to lightly pat the horse. Maybe Checkers wasn't fond of her, but she wanted to try to get along with her master's horse. "Thank you Checkers. I'm sorry you had to work so much tonight."

No Checkers was not happy. No, Checkers was not content to simply let the pair ride him while he had to do all the work. And yes, Checkers was really REALLY irritated that out of all the things that Christer managed to salvage from the burning caravan camp, it was the silly useless girl, and not his apples.

The horse only made a soft whinny in response to Alison's patronizing touch and words, flicking an ear and turning his gaze back forward. Christer dismounted and kept Alison on the horse as he entered through the slumbering village, the daylight having grown stronger and only one person coming out of their home now. 

The building with the waterwheel had a short plump woman come out of it and when she saw the trio, she spooked, and stared at them with horror.  "Oh you poor dear!  You look terrible!"  Her round form flew far and fast on tiny feet and she met them just at the bridge that crossed over the stream.  And when she reached them she was petting Checkers' nose and chin, nuzzling him with soft words of sympathy.

Well, she didn't know much about horses, but she didn't think the beast would ever like her. The last time she'd even been on a horse had been before her master had taken her away from her family. Alison turned to watch Christer slide out of the saddle, looking only slightly distressed that he was leaving her alone up there.

She gripped the saddle and just did her best not to look scared of falling.

At least until the plump woman appeared and ran towards them - and started petting the horse. Well, it wasn't as if she wanted any sympathy. With a little effort she managed to climb down from Checker's back, only to hide behind Christer, clutching the back of his shirt lightly.

"Ma'am, there were bandits. They attacked our caravan." Her voice was barely a squeak. "Are there guards we can tell?"

As much as it was nice that Checkers was getting the right amount of attention he deserved, Christer had to reach forward and gently grasp the plump woman's hand to bring her attention closer to him. "Please, stop. Just for a second."

She hissed and pulled her hand away.  "Sorry. I just love darling ponies."  She glanced up and looked between the pair, furrowing her brow and frowning. "Bandits you say? Oh, no that's terrible. I...don't know if there are any guards here that can help you. But if you keep going down that way, you'll reach Watership Keep. There's soldiers there. But they don't bother us too much here in the village," she explained.

"Who are you anyway?"

"Names Almira," she said. "And you?"

"I'm Christer Theirn.  And that's my...friend. Alison," he said, gesturing up to Alison.  Slowly he reached around and helped her down from the saddle.

As soon as her feet had hit the ground, Alison was hiding behind Christer and clutching his shirt, barely daring to peek around him at the pony-obsessed woman. The woman's answer was hardly encouraging and her face fell a little. No guards?

"Christer, we can't keep going now. Your horse needs to rest and you haven't slept all night." She whispered softly, looking up at him with those wide, pink eyes.

"You're right. Don't worry, Checkers deserves some rest," Christer agreed, looking at Alison then back to Almira. "Madam, would you be willing to help out a few strangers. I can pay you for you trouble." With what little gold he had.....on his belt.  A stray hand touched at the light purse and the woman raised her hands up, waving him off.

"You two look like you've waded through shit to get here. Whatcha need?"

"Can you take care of Checkers for me while we go up to this Watership Keep?" he asked and pursed his lips thoughtfully. The woman squealed and gasped.  She reached up to run hands along Checkers' face, brushing off the little pieces of leaves and crusts of dirt that were stuck there. "I'd be happy to. No charge. I can take care of your pony.  Don't worry."

Christer gave a deep sigh and nodded to Alison. "We should at least try to meet with the holder of this Keep? Checkers' will be all right."

Alison nodded her head slowly, still clinging lightly to his shirt. It was silly to be hiding behind him, there was no one but this woman - who seemed weird, but harmless. Still, she remained where she was, feeling safer just tucked so close to her master.

She made a soft sound when Christer made his request, but held her tongue. It wouldn't do to contradict or question him in front of this stranger. Although she was worried that if they left Checkers with the pony woman that they might have a hard time getting him back. Maybe she was just being paranoid after the whole bandit thing.

More importantly, she looked up at him owlishly when he suggested they try to meet the guy in charge of the keep. Alison tugged gently at his sleeve, her voice still a soft whisper. "Christer, you haven't slept."

He was right, of course, they needed to warn about the bandits, but she looked up at him with a concerned frown.

Yes the woman was a little weird, but she was also their best bet on having Checkers properly cared for. And the fact that she was willing to do so for free was a bonus. Truthfully Christer didn't at all feel tired until Alison mentioned that he hadn't slept. And that was the truth of it. Now the ache was present in every muscle and bone and he sighed, looking back to Almira.

"Um...before we leave ma'am, you wouldn't happen to have any room for two more would you? My friend and I have rested as much as the horse. We haven't slept in two days. Would you have somewhere for us to sleep?"

He said 'us' but he wasn't sure if Alison needed sleep at all. He was content to let her rest though, just in case. It wouldn't be very kind of him to simply let her stay with all of his stuff while he got to a siesta. He turned her and nodded. "Thanks for the reminder."

"All right. I have a little room with a cot. Just one. No funny business, and ....don't touch anything," Almira glowered only to smile when she pet Checkers again.

Alison had slept a little on the ride, not long or well, but she hadn't needed to guide Checkers, and it had been warm against Christer. She pressed her head against his arm and nodded when he thanked her for reminding him. He was her master, she had to look out for his well being. Plus he was kind to her and she just wanted to.

"No funny business, and we won't touch anything. Promise." She said quietly, looking between Christer and Almira shyly for a moment.

Now Checkers could have some real relief, and he was happy to be unsaddled, watched with little interest as Christer and Alison were allowed into the house. Almira had told them the room was in the back, a little cubby just underneath the stairs. It was covered with a blanket on a cord, draped over the entrance.

Christer parted the curtain and revealed a small cot tucked in a corner, a pitcher of water and a bowl on a table beside it. There was a small cut out for a window above the bed, with wood coverings over it. And small threads of daylight trickled through.

"Good thinking, Alison," he said and squeezed her arm. "You can have the bed. There are some blankets in the corner. I can make a mat on the floor."

It was a relief to follow her master to the small cubby under the stairs. Alison had managed to sleep a little curled against Christer as they rode, but sleeping in a saddle wasn't nearly as comfortable as having somewhere to actually lie down to rest.

The room was small and the cot narrow, but it looked fantastic to her.

Alison blinked up at the man beside her when he squeezed her arm and smiled softly at being told it was a good idea. She felt like getting him to rest might be at least a small accomplishment. Tiny as it might be, she had managed to do something right for him; although she had to shake her head when he offered her the bed. No matter what he said, Christer was the master and she was the slave.

Slaves didn't sleep in a bed while their master slept on a floor.

"No, you should take the bed, Christer. I couldn't make you sleep on the floor, even with some blankets. Besides, I did get a little sleep, not much, but more than you. You need the rest more, so you should get the more comfortable place." It sounded perfectly logical to her, and she hoped he'd accept it as she started pulling out the blankets he had mentioned.