@DragonSong
The smith travelled on further north. Trade between Connlaoth and Serendipity was often hard, arduous. There were few reliable passes through the mountains, making it easy for the southern lords to keep track off merchants. However, there were a number of smuggler paths, but these were poorly maintained and unpatrolled, making them dangerous.
At least, most were unsafe. One, which Joshua was on now, remained fairly secure thanks to an odd band of vigilanties. They looked ragtag, a batch of fighters armed with halberds and matchlocks, their armor mostly of quilted jack. One wore a brigandine, clearly an officer by his gait. The halberdier saluted and Joshua nodded his gratitude as he continued into his homehand.
"That was Coburn, an agent of the Ash Guard. They have agents all over and friends in high places...low places too." The smith's companion had not asked but he had felt the need to explain.
"We should be getting close..." It was hard to see the Compound over the foothills but once they were out in the open, he peculiar looking structures would be visible.
"Any last questions before we get there?" Joshua asked. He wanted to ensure she felt at ease. As a Serenian mage, it was natural for her to feel uncomfortable in his homeland...
Tara, sore and tired from long travel and a still-healing wound, shook her head. "No, I'm...I'm good. Let's just get there," she murmured, squinting to try to make out any detail of the compound.
Initially, the most visible part of the Ash Guard compound was the palisade. It stood almost two stories tall, hiding what buildings had been built within but the sprawling nature of the settlement made the wall appear quite squat. There were a handful of wooden watchtowers, bristling with cannon ports but this mostly offered the artillery range and height advantages, rather than for its defense.
A small gatehouse was the only access to the camp and a pair of guards flanked the open doorway. It was usually left open and would only be closed if a threat approached. One of the guards, a halberdier with a salt-and-pepper goatie gestured for the wagon to stop, so Joshua hauled in on the reins. It took the older man a moment to recognize the smith. "Josh! How the hell are ya? It's been too long!" He offered a hand for the young man to shake before continuing. "I didn't know you'd be comin' this way. What brings ya out here?"
"Well enough. Just coming by to check up on my work." Joshua nodded toward the battery towers. He had cast several cannons for use by the Guard several years ago. He could cast the steel faster and better than other gun makers in the Grand Duchy.
"Uh-huh," the guard said, incredulous. He was looking at Tara now. "Never figured ya for the settling down sort but if you're lookin' to get hitched, you'll probably have to," he said, clearly misinterpretting the pair's relationship.
"Knock it off," the smith snapped. "She's a client. Bounty hunt possibly."
"Ah, alright." The guard pulled down his kettle hat, clearly embarrassed. "Well you know the way to the command tent. Captain's out but the First Lieutenant might be willing to see you." The guard shrugged, adding, "No guarantee, though."
"Thanks." The smith waited for the man to stand clear of the wagon before urging the ox beyond the gate. The second soldier glance from the bard to the smith before catching his eye and offering a conspiratorial wink that only confused Joshua.
The interior of the ward was a large village of tents and canopies. However, while the camp was supposed to be ready to pack up and go at a moments noticed, a few sod housed had cropped up, built with thatch rooves to keep out the rain. Most of the soldiers were off duty, taking brakes from their training and contracts. A few trained, a man and a woman sparring with leather dussacks. There was a stable, and a hand put up the smith's beast. This freed the travellers to head for the largest canvas structure, with several peaks where the roof was supported by log pillars.
Pulling Tara aside, Joshua took a moment to mention something he thought might set the bard's mind at ease. "You should know that most of the Guards don't have a problem with magic. Even those from Connlaoth have mostly outgrown their prejudice, so don't worry about threats. No one here will threaten you."
Tara couldn't help chuckling a bit at the guard's misconception: she'd expected it, honestly, it was usually the assumption people jumped to with a man and a woman traveling alone together, silly as it was.
And really Joshua's irritated reaction was just precious.
She refrained from teasing him about it as they entered the camp, simply looking about to take in their surroundings. When the smith pulled her aside to inform her about the camp's attitude toward magic though, she returned her full attention to him. He was trying to put her at ease.
How...sweet.
Tara smiled crookedly and shook her head a bit. "I'm not worried about it, lad," she told him quietly. Her eyes were a little softer than normal, an indication that she wasn't just playacting for once. "I didn't think you'd bring me somewhere that I wouldn't be safe."
It was only after she'd said it that she realized she meant that.
Joshua did not truly know many people. Tara was among the few people he had spent any real time around, aside from his transactional relationship with the Guard. He noticed something in the way the bard reacted; a candor that did not seem to come wholy natural for her...
It was not something either wanted to ponder at the moment. The smith walked toward the command tent and a man wearing a rapier stood guard. He nodded to the pair and pulled a flap aside.
The interior was predictably dark, so rather than force pair of visitors go inside, a tall man stepped out. Though not hulking, he had the baring of a powerful man. His pale face was clean shaven, his short blond hair has been swept back out of his face. Joshua had never met the man, but he could comfortably assume this man was First Lieutenant Michael Wolfram, the the steel pin of a wolf head helping to drive the point home. "So, you are the young man who made our guns." The mercenary spoke with a powerful voice. Offering a hand to shake with the smith, Micheal asked, "What exactly brings you by?"
"Lieutenant Wolfram?" Joshua verified. "I would like to ask a favor." Gesturing to the bard, he continued, saying, "This is Tara. I'd like if you could listen to what she has to say."
Wolfram turned to the girl, brow furrowing. "Tara?" he repeated.
"Ah..." She glanced from Joshua to the lieutenant, shoulders a little tense, eyes wary. "Yeah. Um...hi." She nodded as politely as she could manage.
Joshua noticed the sudden tension but before he could ask, Wolfram cleared his throat. "Shall we have a seat?" the mercenary suggested, left hand resting against the hilt of his long sword. He signalled the pair to a covered outdoor lounge-ish area. Several tables and a number of chairs had been arranged in the shade of a large canvas tarp, held up by half a dozen wooden poles.
The blond swordsman waited for the woman to sit before he could ease himself into a chair opposite her; Joshua felt compelled to mimic the courtesy. The tall warrior seemed stiff, glancing at the smith before returning his attention to Tara. "I'll...Hrm...Please, tell be what I can do for you. I won't guarantee any given outcome but I can promise, if...we take the job, to do what we can."
The fighter seemed to be picking his words carefully, as though trying to avoid a subject. However, for the life of him, Joshua could not understand why.
"Well, ah..." Tara hedged, glancing at Joshua again. She wasn't used to just...outright asking for help. No game, no scheme, no seduction, just...asking.
"I'm...looking for someone," she said cautiously after a long moment. "And I-- I need some help tracking him down."
"I gathered that already," the swordsman commented. Shifting back in his seat, Wolfram studied the bard a moment. "The man you're after; can you tell me about him? His name, what he looks like? And what his crime is? I assume this is in regards to some...personal offense."
Joshua noticed the mercenary seemed to relax, less tense than he had been. The smith was left wondering why he had seemed nervous before.
At around this point, a young man approached with a basin of water. He had the dusky beige complexion of a southern clime and if the smith hazarded a guess, the youth was a diviner. "Also, if we find him, what would you have us do?" It was hear that Joshua glanced at his recent companion. She seemed like the sort to want to kill the bandit herself rather than let another do it.
Tara felt herself tensing with every question, and she had to force herself to relax. Slowly, she began describing their target-- though she made no mention of his crime, other than to say, "He's a killer, and the world would be better off without him in it."
She shook her head at the last question. "I don't need you to do anything to him. Hell, I don't even really need you to find him find him. Just get me some leads and I can do the rest." She glanced at Joshua, then back to the mercenary. "How much is this gonna cost me, exactly?"
A shadow of recognition crossed the blond man's face. "Karrian," he wispered, leaning forward. The mercenary set his elbows against his knees, fingers tented as he began to ponder his options. Whatever his concern was, Wolfram refused to share and as the silence dragged, Joshua thought to address the Mercenary.
"Do you know Karrian?" the smith asked.
"...Yes..." It was a cautious reply, clearly leaving much unsaid. "I am quite familiar with how he operates." Sitting back, Michael turned to the bard. "I have my own reasons for hunting this savage. In this instance, there is no fee." This surprised Joshua, as well as the other youth, who offered Wolfram a nervous glance. "It's fine," he assured his silent subordinate. "I will cover the cost myself." The man with the basin shrugged, setting the vessel down finally.
The swordsman, shifting his attention back to his...'client' almost did not seem the propper word any more. "I can assign a jäger team to the area. Once they set up, they can relay any information they find to you."
"Whoa, wait." Tara blinked and looked between the two men. "Why? Why are you doing this for free? What's the catch here?"
Tara's question seemed appropriate and Joshua was just as surprised at the mercenary's apparent generosity. For his part, Michael offered an unreadable smile. "I have my own personal reasons for wanting the man dead and I have been personally funding the search..with little luck." By now the servant had left...leaving Joshua
wondering at his earlier assumption.
Wolfram stood, stepping up to the basin and unbuttoning the cuffs of his doublet. The purpose of the water became clear when the tall man plucked out a hard cake of soap and began to scrub his hands. "Our hunters should be returning soon. If you're hungry, you're free to share the day's catch." Taking a hand towel from the back of the chair, the mercenary dried himself as he added, "If you feel you must pay, perhaps a song or two? We don't have many visiting minstrels." So he had mad note of the woman's profession, Joshua realized.
"Oh. Well." Tara blinked and glanced at Joshua again, then shrugged as she looked back to the mercenary. She smiled, slipping easily into her more charming persona. "I'd be delighted to perform for you and your men, of course."
The sound of a hunting horn came some while later and batch of hunters carrying their various prizes returned through the wooden gates. The kills - a stag, 4 hares and a boar - were arranged on a table near the central bonfire, their respective slayers went off to store their rifles and traps while the but hers got to work. Michael broke from the pair, looking pensive as he fingered the angular pommel of his sword; clearly cotemplating the potential opportunity to draw it in the future...
Joshua stayed beside the bard, wandering the camp as things started to pick up. Looking to Tara, the smith said, "I'm a little surprised things worked out so well." He had honestly not expected Worlfram to be so accommodating; perhaps Karrian really was as evil as the girl had said.
"Yeah." Tara's friendly smile had dropped as easily as it had appeared, replaced by pursed lips and a slight scowl. "He's not telling us something," she murmured. "I don't know if I trust this..."
As much as he did not want to, Joshua agreed with Tara. One did not survive by trusting everyone. The leaders of the Ash Guard seemed genuine in most of his dealings with them though, so it was hard to mistrust Wolfram outright. "What would he gain by turning on us?" It was an honest question. Turning in a mage or two did not seem lucrative and would likely backfire violently given some of the groups other deals. Working with Karrian seemed simply was not their style...plus Wolfram's distaste regarding the bandit seemed real.
No, for the life of him, the smith could not think of an angle that benefitted the mercenaries in any meaningful way. "I think we can trust Michael. But if you must, you can try to get some better answers out of him." It seemed like the swordsman was keeping things close to the vest but it could not hurt to try...
Most of the camp was massing in the center, drawn by the smell of cooking food. Nearby, a girl held a simulator. Wolfram was giving her instruction, nudging her feet apart, showing her how to hold the blunted sword. Joshua could not yet make out the words, though and could not guess at the complexity of his advice.
She considered a moment, then shrugged. "Well, if you trust him I suppose that's good enough for me."
She watched the training a few moments longer, one brow quirking up, and eventually called out, "Oi, you're teaching her how to fight like a soldier, not a merc. What's with you lot?"
Hearing the bard's exclamation, the swordsman paused, turning. A number of other mercenaries did as well but most returned to their own converstions. Wolfram stepped away from his student and said, "I wasn't aware there was a difference between them." It was a sentiment Joshua had to agree with. "Mind explaining your meaning?"
The girl with the practice sword stepped close as well. She seemed to expect this to turn into some sort of added lesson, whether from Tara or her instructor.
With the attention on her, the bard felt herself shrinking back a bit. "Just...you're teaching her like she's gotta fight to protect. Mercs fight for coin."
Michael glanced over his shoulder briefly, then shifted back to bard, offering her a condescending smile. "You speak not of combat but battle. Yes, a mercenary joins a fight for money...but you can't spend silver when you're dead."
"Actual combat comes after that," the warrior explained, pacing a circle around Tara. "Now matter the why, everyone finds something in the moment protect." Once more, he came to stand before the mage and paused. "This-" he said, jabbing at her sternum before rapping her softly on the brow; "-and this. Heart and head. Every soldier, whether paid or not fights to save his own skin and nothing more." Turning back to the girl, he continued his lecture. "Everything else doesn't matter."
Joshua, though slightly engrossed by the mercenary's words, notice a slight shift in the camp and caught sight of soldiers serving themselves. Even a few casks of ale came out and cups were filled with the sweet beer. Wolfram caught the direction of the smith's gaze. "Ah. Well, it seems supper is ready. Shall we?" He gestured for the two ousiders to collect their food first.
"Mm."
Tara did not appreciate the way he spoke to her, but she knew better than to snap at a hand offering food. Forcing herself to shrug it off, she replied to her companion breezily, "Sure, right behind you."
The smell of cooking venison, wafted from the nearest fire as a round woman began slicing off cuts of meat for each man who passed with a plate. Most also took a hunk of bread and a small pile of steamed vegetables before slipping back to their groups as their conversations continued. Wolfram elected to leave the gamey meat for later, taking two loaves of bread instead and finding a seat and a bowl of thick vegetable chowder.
Joshua let Tara go before him but eventually slipped away, going toward the cookpot serving rabbit stew. Filling a bowl, he took a mug of beer and found a seat next to the blond mercenary before trying to get Tara's attention. If she wanted to question the man further, this would be her best chance.
The bard followed easily enough, though she gave her own bowl of stew a cautious sniff before she put it anywhere near her mouth.
she was content enough to simply sit and observe, for the moment. "You sure we can trust these people?" she whispered to Joshua out of the corner of her mouth.
This was the second time today Tara had expressed these concerns and once more the smith said, "What would they gain?" Taking a sip of ale, followed by a bite of the soft bread, Joshua wondered at a way to set the girl's mind at ease.
He need not have bothered; Michael spoke up after downing a mouthful of the sweet tasting alcohol. "I understand your suspicion, Tara. But please believed me when I say that betraying you serves us no purpose. There is nothing the Church, nor Karrian, could offer us that would justify the hit to our reputation." Offering the bard a smirk, he added, "Whatever fears you have are groundless. So please, when you are here, you are safe."
"Mm." She still wasn't entirely convinced, but she was at least sure by now that they weren't going to poison her. She tucked into the stew, only just realizing how hungry she really was.
The wound to her side twinged painfully as she curved forward and she winced, but mostly ignored it, watching the people around her carefully.
There was a lull in that conversation as the trio ate. The other mercenaries continued to talk, though, filling the air with a meddly of voices that spoke of little important. Joshua spotted the student from earlier. She sat next to another young man close to her age. They seemed close and the smith had a twinge of envy.
Before he could ponder it too long, the swordsman spoke up again, interrupting Joshua's thoughts. "Sorry about mocking you earlier, Tara." Adjusting his posture, Wolfram rubbed crumbs from his palms, his meal finished rapidly. "War is my profession and I took your words as an insult to my trade." The warrior was somber now, watching his men relaxing. There was a weight upon him but for the life of him, the smith could not guess at what was behind his eyes.
Tara shrugged, sitting back slightly and bracing one hand behind her. "Oh, I don't much care. I've learned not to pay too much attention to men's opinions of me," she quipped with a wicked little smile.
She rolled her shoulders, stretching a bit, and her hand bumped against Joshua beside her. She drew it back quickly-- not blushing, it must have been the heat from the fire warming her face-- and cleared her throat.
"'Sides, my trade is music more than anything else. I just know what I need to get through a fight with my life intact." Most of the time.
The smith felt the touch of Tara's hand and glanced over. He almost swore he saw a touch of scarlet come to her face but could not place the meaning behind it. "So far..." Wolfram's words went mostly unheard but pulled his attention back to the conversation, a whisper the Joshua barely made out. It carried a genuine concern for the bard but the warrior seemed to want to keep his worries to himself.
Joshua intercepted the discussion, turn it away from what could become a heated debate. "Speaking of music, Tara, you said you were willing to play something for the crowd?"
"Ah, yes," Wolfram added. He rose from his seat, only half turning back to say, "Feel free to play whatever you like." The mercenary stepped away from the pair of guests, moving toward his private quarters.
"Oh. Uh, yeah, sure." Tara smiled, falling back into a more comfortable persona: the performer.
"What would you all want to hear, then? A ballad, a jig? What's everyone in the mood for?"
There were some calls that came as jargon as the voices fought for dominance. One though crept to the fore. "Somethin' cheery," the young student from earlier shouted. "I wanna dance!" The latter comment seemed directed equally to her young lover.
Agreement sounded among other women; even some of the warriors smiled in silent assent as finished plates and bowls were set aside.
Tara laughed, reaching for her fiddle and swinging it over to settle into the crook of her neck. "Alright, then."
She strummed a few chords, adjusted her instrument, then began to play. A few bars in, she lifted her head and began to sing, eyes falling closed. It was nonsense syllables at first, "la"s and "da"s "dee"s.
Then she smiled, rose gracefully, and began to truly sing (https://youtu.be/5K4TIQXCmPQ). She swayed back and forth to the melody she created. Then in a sudden burst of movement she whirled around the fire, kicking her heels high and leaping and gliding in graceful turns and bounds that carried her back to her original seat.
She jumped up onto a log, still playing and singing, and began keeping time with a a small, rhythmic dance, hitting heels and the balls of her feet against the wood to create a psuedo-drumbeat.
The song was cheerful sounding. While the lyrics that the crowd understood came off as critical of their subject, the rhythm and melody made the words sound teasing rather than antagonistic. Many found it easy to ignore the message entirely, rising from their seats as skirts flipped into swift, hectic dancing. The pair that had called for the song had been first to stand. Still, the Connlaothian dancing did not seem to trully match the Serenian music.
For his part, Joshua only watched the bard. She seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself, though given her continuing tension, he wondered if it were just a mask.
A tap at his shoulder drew the smith's attention away. Wolfram stood there, wooden mugs in hand. "Mead from my private stash," he explained. "I need someone to taste it with me." The mercenary took the drink before looking up at the dancing woman. He had a faraway expression now. "She's been through a lot. I can tell that much..."
Joshua turned back toward Tara at this. It made some sense and would explain so much of her distrust. But the smith wondered at the other man's certainty. Any question he might have asked were interrupted by a call for a private toast. "To home, wherever it may be found."
Once the people dancing around the fire had taken up the tune, Tara laughed softly and twirled her way back to where she'd originally been standing.
Laying her fiddle to the side-- though the air seemed to still hold the shivering notes of the instruments-- she held her hand down to Joshua.
"Dance with me."
Tara's end of the music faded from hearing as the soldiers and the other women began singing. Joshua had not seen when but one of the group had brought out another instrument. Most lacked the expertise of the bard but the amateurish take on the song proved enjoyable enough.
The smith did not really focus on this, his mind elsewhere until the Serenian girl danced close. The swordsman had made an odd comment, and Joshua almost fell into Tara's distrust...
But now Tara wanted her turn to dance. The sound transitioned as the makeshift band spotted the bard's intent. Feeling eyes on him, the smith tensed before taking the woman's hand. "I would love to," he admitted as he rose to join her. He was sadly unpracticed but would do his best not to humiliate himself as the joined the circle.
Tara smiled, then laughed as he stood and she pulled him with her back toward the fire. "Don't be so stiff," she teased lightly, laying one of his hands at her waist as she threading their fingers of their free hands together. "Just follow my lead. I won't make a fool of you, I promise."
Most of the crowd around them would have been classed as commoners and their dancing reflected this. They moved in a quick, staccato rhythm, mixing quick steps and twirls in an exciting flurry. Joshua assumed Tara would attempt something similar, and began moving in a manner to emulate his peers.
He forgot for a moment that Tara was Serenian, likely raised with a different school of dance...
Tara nearly tripped over her own feet as Joshua began mimicking the dancers around them, then laughed. Serenian dances tended to be smoother, relying more on motions that emulated air and water, but she did her best to adjust.
"Oh!" A particularly excited twirl from a neighboring dancer bumped her into Joshua's chest, and she looked up at him with wide eyes and a quick laugh. "Alright, enough of this."
Rolling her eyes, she took her partner's hands and placed them at her waist, her own resting on his shoulders. "Follow my lead, okay? I'm afraid I've no idea how to do...whatever it is everyone else is doing, so you're stuck with what I do know."
Joshua offered a sheepish smile. "Alright, alright," the smith conceeded, giving up on his flawed attempt as lead. Taking a breath to shift his center, he did his best to follow the bard as she began her own take on the dance...
Tara was conscious of her partner's caution. "Just hold onto me," she murmured with a small smile, guiding his hand to settle at the small of her back as she began to sway lightly back and forth.
Tara's tempo was clearly based on the pace of the song and proved easy enough to follow as Joshua mimicked the bards movements. There seemed little else to do. The music was simple; performed by warriors and hobbyists rather than true minstrels so the song itself was not hard you follow...
The bard closed her eyes for a moment, just allowing the music to move her. It was...nice.
"Thanks," she murmured abruptly after a few moments. "For, um...Y'know. Bringing me here. And all." She cleared her throat, looking away awkwardly.
In the time he had come to know her, Joshua had never known Tara to be bashful. This brief exchange seemed out of character, but given what he knew...which was precious little...gratitude likely came hard.
The smith drew her in close and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "It's no trouble," he promised. He hoped her gratitude was not misplaced; Wolfram's willingness to offer help seemed suspect given his profession, but he did his best to hide his anxiety.
He continued to follow the bard before the music began to die down and people filtered off. The couple that had called for the dance went off hand-in-hand, the young woman giggling as they vanished amid the canvas jungle.
Michael had already arranged a tent for the pair as well.
"Well, um..." Tara cleared her throat, then abruptly stepped out of the smith's hold, clasping her hands in front of her body. "Looks like they've got a tent set up. We should...get some rest."
That seemed a good idea. It was, after all, quite late, considering how long they had been dancing. Joshua noted the bard's sudden nervousness, a sign her defenses were still down and the smith was unwilling to exploit the opening as the pair approached the canvas structure.
The tent was fairly spacious, held up in the middle by a tall pole with eight shorter poles reinforcing the walls. The enclosure was internally partitioned by thickly quilted dividers that hung between the posts, creating a pair of quarters (a comically appropriate term in this case) on the side opposite the entrance. The travelers' sparse luggage had been arranged about the entry, illuminated by a lantern that hung from a simple cord near the ceiling. Joshua sensed, rather than saw the flame of the other two, hanging in their respective bedrooms...
"I...guess we have our own rooms," the smith said, dumbly. He advanced toward one of the open flaps before pausing to turn to his companion. "I...will be right over here if you need anything," he added, not wholly certain of his words.
Tara smiled at him vaguely, for the first time in a long time feeling a little out of her depth. "Right. Um, thanks. Same here?"
Awkwardly, she coughed and ducked her eyes, then mumbled a hurried, "Good night," and bolted for her side of the tent. Demons above and below, girl, pull yourself together! She needed to get a godsdamned grip.
When the bard departed for her section, Joshua mirrored the act, ducking into his own corner as he undid the flap. There was enough room for a camp bed as well as a sitting mat, spartan accommodations not unexpected among the ranks of this militia force and the rapidity of the tent's set up.
The quadrant was illuminated by a hanging lantern affixed to one of the poles, allowing the smith to find his unfolded bed and sit. He was unsure how he felt about Tara. He knew she was developing feelings for him but like her, Joshua found it hard to act on his own feelings. He had been alone most of his life now and he did not want her to have to carry his baggage along with her own.
The young man sighed, trying to drive off his worries for the time being, undressing to his linen underwear and going to bed. He would leave tomorrow's worries until tomorrow...
Tara couldn't sleep. She tried, she really did, but the combination of an unfamiliar environment combined with the lack of proximity to her traveling partner just...set of her off-kilter. She had gotten used to sleeping within an arms-length of the smith, knowing that if something were to happen, she would have backup within reach.
It wasn't as though there was really all that much space between them, but the partition made it feel like much more.
The bard tossed and turned for an hour or so before she finally sat bolt upright, glaring resolutely ahead. This was ridiculous.
With a huff, she wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and got to her feet, marching determinedly through the partition and around to Joshua's side. She pushed the curtain aside and strode to the smith's mat, flopping down beside him and turning onto her side so her back was to him.
"Scoot. I can't sleep."
Joshua found himself doing as demanded almost without conscious thought, sliding back as the bard made to join him. In the time the duo had been travelling, the smith had grown accustomed to being close to her and as much as his presence seemed to comfort her, he found her presence reassuring.
Perhaps had he been more awake, Joshua might have been in a frame of mind to reflect on these feelings or even the fact that his small cot was not likely wide enough accommodate the pair with any space between them. He simply lifted his own blanket, offering what space he could to Tara so that she might join him.
The bard shifted back until she was properly on the cot, Joshua's warmth starting to tingle over her skin. She sighed softly, feeling herself begin to properly relax. Finally.
"Night," she mumbled as her eyes fluttered closed.
It was hard to say what pleased the smith more: the simple presence of the attractive bard, or that his normally distant companion trusted him so much. But as she began to fall asleep, Joshua folder his arm around her, wrapping them both in the confines of his blanket...
----
Night passes quickly in sleep and in what seemed like mere moments, light would filter through the canvas walls to wake the pair, even as the morning air was disturbed by the far-off sounds of the camp.
Tara slept through the night, which wasn't usually a common occurrence. She groaned quietly and rolled onto her side, butting her nose up against Joshua's chest as she did.
"Mmph." With a yawn, the bard struggled back to consciousness. She blinked, squinting against the morning light. "Joshua? What time is it?" she muttered, rubbing at her eyes.
Gods, she was just tired. And feeling...well, a little off balance. She couldn't remember the last time she'd shared a bed without-- without sharing a bed. It was strange.
Nice, but strange.
Tara's movement had been enough to wake the sleeping smith. He was a little surprised to the bard turned around to face him...before remember his physical state and rolling to avoid embarrassment. He hid the act pretending he was trying to hear.
The sound of clattering wood could be heard in pockets but he also heard the voices of women shouting orders. The odor of spiced porridge carried surprisingly well within the camp, suggesting how early it could be. "Early enough for breakfast to be cooking," Joshua suggested, glancing back at his bed-mate.
The young half-breed had generally considered the fair bard attractive but had found the fact ignorable for most of their journey. Now, perhaps ready to blame his grogginess, Joshua craning his face closer to Tara's, pressing his thin lips against her forehead. It was a tender gesture, but ended quickly; it was the most intimate he had ever been with a woman and his inexperience showed by his rapid shift to scarlet. "Uh...sorry," the smith said, offering a weak smile.
Tara pushed herself up onto one elbow and tilted her head at him slowly, considering. She couldn't deny the soft shiver the unexpected contact had sent down her spine, but she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to really explore what it meant. Not right this moment, anyway.
"You don't have to apologize," she said after a moment. "It's...alright."
Shaking herself, she turned to the side and climbed from the little cot, arching her back and reaching her arms up over her head in a long stretch. "Uhg. Gods, I'd kill for a real bed," she chuckled, only a little forced.
Joshua, had a moment of hope when Tara said his kiss was "alright." She had locked eyes with him for a moment and the smith suspected she had similar feelings for him. The bard quickly changed the subject as she got out of bed.
The young man chuckled a little at his companion's complaint. "I don't know. Seems a step up from the ground." He slid off of the straw-filled mattress behind Tara. Glancing back down though, he had to admit, "It is a bit small..." It was comforting, speaking of such small things. There were problems in the world, and the pair was in a place inherently hostile towards them, making mundane concerns a secret blessing.
Still, Joshua had something he might to offer. "Here," he offered, pressing against her shoulders to help work out some tension. He focused a small amount of magic into his palms, using his the heat to help the woman relax. "We should probably think about heading out soon. Don't want people wondering too much..."
"Mmmm..."
Though she tensed when he touched her unexpectedly, when she realized what he was doing Tara was quick to relax back into his touch. She noted the use of his magic and applauded it silently, wondering if she might be able to employ such a tactic.
Probably not, fire had never been her strongest element.
"We can head out when you're done," she groaned happily, letting her head lull from side to side to work the kinks out of her neck. "Don't you dare stop..."
As Tara stretched, Joshua's warm hands shifted closer. Heat slid toward his fingertips and kneed his thumbs into the base of her neck. He felt her tension easing as muscles softened under his touch. He had few chances to just let his magic run wild; even the Ash Guards, as accepting as they could be, grew uncomfortable around magic itself and tried not to use it when possible. Not to mention they were no true family to him.
Soothing hand slid lower, working another knot from between her shoulder blades. To go lower, the smith stepped closer, his thumbs drawing rings along her spine, his massage trailing toward her waist.
Tara relaxed even further back into his hands, her eyes closed and a soft, contented hum thrumming in the back of her throat. As his hands trailed lower, a familiar if slightly disconcerting tingle traced up her spine.
"Ah, Joshua..." She swallowed, cleared her throat, and continued with a little laugh, "Um, whatchya aiming for there?"
Right, make a joke. That was safe.
Given their time together, Joshua was finding it easier to recognize the bard's sense of humor. That did not protect him from the moment of embarrassment when he understood her meaning. He turned red at the suggestive comment and his hands reversed direction, sliding back up toward Tara's shoulders.
Sounds from outside the tent were starting to pick up; a clatter of wood not to far, the sound of crockery. Conversations...many seeming to lack coherence for the time being.
A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest when his hands quickly started heading north again, though she tried to suppress it.
After a few moments listening to the sounds outside the tent, she twisted her upper body to face the smith. "We should...probably get moving," she murmured, almost reluctantly.
Almost despite herself, she made no move to actually follow her own suggestion. Yes, the massage was quite excellent, but if she was being honest with herself it was the closeness she found herself nearly intoxicated by. It had been so long since she'd been like this with someone else, just...with them. Sex was different, she could be sharp and passionate and in control. This felt...
Naked. Vulnerable.
Joshua, for all his inexperience, recognized Tara's reluctance; to some degree he actually shared it. Sliding in close behind her, his arms crossed around the bard's waist. As always, his body radiated heat beyond the norm, even through the kiss he placed on her neck. He decided to try and mimic the young woman's humor as he said, "Probably for the best. Don't want to feed the gossips, do we?"
A sound of falling wood drew the smith's attention towards the front area of the tent, and breaking from his companion, he poked his head out to see a camp steward pouring water into a large wood basin. A few more maids shuttled in more hot water as the first woman said, "Mister Wolfram thought you and your guest might like a bath this morning. It should only take a moment to get things ready."
Joshua did not speak immediately, glancing toward Tara, who was still invisible to those getting ready. The maid began to hurry the others, adding, "Should the young lady like to bathe first while the gentleman waits, or...?" There were a number of other options the woman was too proper to admit in the company of chatty young girls.
The smith could tell the question was spoken for Tara's benefit and inwardly thanked her as he looked to Tara for her intention. "I could step out for a while. There are always chores I could do around camp." He spoke in a manner that made it hard to necessarily tell who he was speaking to, capitalizing on the servant's discretion.
A shudder rippled through Tara's whole body as his lips brushed against her neck. Immediately on its heels, she tensed, glancing down to where his arms clasped around her waist. She forced herself to chuckle a bit at his joke and nodded, trying to control her suddenly erratic heartbeat.
"Right, of course not."
She breathed a small sigh of relief when he moved toward the tent flap to see what was going on outside. A little closeness could be a dangerous thing, apparently. How had she forgotten that?
The sudden reminder somehow didn't stop her from suggesting blandly, "I mean, if you're alright with it I don't see the point to waste the hot water. I don't mind sharing."
Wow, that was stupid.
The suggestion caught the smith off guard and he visibly blushed. The maid on the other hand, broke into an almost exaggerated laugh that drew the pair's attention. "I won't fault you two if ya do." Glancing past Joshua, she further addressed the bard; "Not like I've never felt randy myself."
The suggestive comment caused the smith's blush to flare more as he sputtered. "That's not what she said!" It took all his will to not look to Tara for some cue to indicate her full meaning though and a part of him wondered, or perhaps hoped it was what the maid assumed.
"Doesn't need to say it to mean it," the maid reminded, as though reading Joshua's thoughts. "Seem you two aren't bein' honest with yourselves so I may just leave you to it." Leaving behind a tray of soaps, the maid quickly darted through the flap of the tent, even as Joshua rushed to overtake her.
He failed, coming up short at the entrance before eventually turning back to his companion. He coughed awkwardly before finally mustering the courage to speak. "I guess we won't be getting help bathing," he observed. It was a dumb comment but was all he could come up with for the time being.
Tara quirked an eyebrow and smiled a little crookedly at him. "Do you usually need help bathing?" she quipped lightly.
She seemed to consider for a moment, then gave a mental shrug and moved toward the wooden tub, trailing her fingers through the water and deciding the temperature was suitable. Without bothering to look at her companion, she started to strip briskly, noting, "I meant what I said. Water will only stay hot for so long-- I don't mind sharing."
She didn't bother to mention that either one of them could probably heat the water up again with magic if it did cool; she found herself almost saying the words as though she was offering a challenge.
She slipped out of her underthings and paused, her head turning just slightly to glance at him over her shoulder. Waiting to see what he would do.
For a moment, Joshua could do nothing more than watch as his companion disrobed, before he remembered it was improper to stare. Turning, the smith began to undress as well. He was distracted, unable to think to correct Tara's assertion before dropping his pale shorts.
Despite his perpetual embarrassment, Joshua held the flap open as he peered out, finding the tent as empty as before, then gesturing for the bard to join him. The wooden tub had fairly low walls but seemed just large enough to barely fit the pair. Steam rose gently from the warm fluid but the fire mage tested the water to ensure it was the right heat. He found soap and some other cleaning items set aside on a nearby stool and slid it within reach of the basin before awkwardly returning his attention to Tara.
After a moment of pause, he said, "Right...um...did you...want to get in first?" The man knew he had to stop thinking about it, as every second that passed made this feel like an increasingly worse idea...
Already waiting by the wooden tub, Tara allowed her eyes to move up and down Joshua when he approached, almost appraising.
Slowly, cautiously, as though approaching a frightened animal, she stepped around the tub to stand in front of him, arms folded loosely in front of her body. She kept her eyes on his face— though whether that was really for his benefit or hers she really couldn't say.
"If you're uncomfortable, I can wait behind the divider," she murmured after a moment, not answering his question but rather seeming to rescind her own unspoken challenge.
Joshua had trouble finding a response to the woman's advances, or her offered 'out.' He knew that taking turns would be far less awkward but did not which to part either.
"No," the smith finally replied nervously, before taking Tara's small hand. "Stay." He tried to coax her into the water, letting himself sink down. As expected, there was just enough space for the pair to share the warm water if she sat in Joshua's lap.
Tara flinched slightly when he took her hand, and for a moment she just stared down at it in silence. Then, slowly, she allowed him to guide her into the water.
There really wasn't any space for her to be anywhere but pressed against him, but she tried to arch her back just slightly to at least create the illusion of some distance between them.
But despite the sudden tension in every line of her body, the hot water felt positively divine. She sighed quietly and let her eyes drift closed for a moment. She shifted slightly, moving to lean up against the side of the tub, and rather abruptly realized that she'd never let go of Joshua's hand.
A very faint flush crept up her neck and she disentangled their fingers carefully, then forced a quiet laugh. "We'll never get anything done if we can't use both hands," she murmured, trying to keep her tone playful but not sure that she quite managed it.
Joshua acknowledged the bard's intent, muttering, "Right; of course," before letting go. The smith turned away for a moment, evading the moment of humiliation while also retrieving the soap round, as well as a palm-sized brush, from the nearby stool.
Nervously, the smith shifted back so that he could sit facing Tara as he began to build a lather with the supplies. "I-if you turn around, I can reach your back," he offered. There were other tools as well: combs and a hair-brush, ear-spoons, nail-picks, -trimmer and file to name a few...
That aside, the pair's mutual nudity pushed Joshua to hurry, lest his interest be revealed unnecessarily....
"...Alright."
It sent every single one of her instincts firing into intense wariness, but Tara put her back to the smith and reached up to pull her damp hair over one shoulder. She inhaled, reaching up to comb her fingers through her hair almost in a nervous gesture, then forced herself to release the breath with a soft shudder and slight release of tension.
It would be so, so easy for Joshua to break that comb off in the back of her neck, go for her throat and she wouldn't have time to avoid the attack.
He's not going to hurt you, she told herself firmly, clenching her hands in her lap under the water. He's not going to hurt you, this is fine...
Repeating that mantra silently, Tara reached out to pick up the comb and began running it through her hair slowly, trying to focus on keeping her breathing even.
Joshua did his best to focus on only the most immediate task, rubbing the soap against Tara's skin using the brush to drag out the grime of their earlier journey. He first cleaned the areas that Tara would likely have difficulty reaching and move outward. She could stop him at any time but it seemed she was content to let him work.
Still, he had expected he to handle her own...front, and was at a loss when it seemed his chosen task seemed half done. Before long, though, the smith reached for a nearby bowl and scooped water against the bards to rinse away the filth, before offering the simple cake of soap to Tara. "Could you get my back, too?" he asked, though he secretly hoped a reversal in their position would put her at ease.
Gradually, almost despite herself, Tara began to relax under the gentle attention. She allowed him to move over most of her back, sort of absently scrubbing at her face and neck.
Then he offered her the soap, apparently giving her her own turn in this odd game of trust and nerve, and she nodded, taking it. "Turn around," she murmured, twisting in her own spot carefully so she could face him.
Turning away from Tara gave the smith a chance to obscure himself. For all his emotional turmoil, he was able to easily drift though the rigors of his bath, using a handful of lather to wash most of himself, even kneading the substance into his scalp. Gradually, the water darkened as the soap pulled more and more dirt away form their skin and hair.
Still, his mind ventured toward awkward fantasies that took every ounce of discipline to try and ignore. The pair likely had other things to do that day and remaining too absorbed by this intimacy...Joshua quickly forced his thoughts elsewhere.
As before, the rhythms of a familiar activity were oddly soothing, and after a few moments Tara found herself relaxing slowly. Her eyes occasionally flickered toward his hand, still instinctively preparing for him to make a sudden move, but consciously she found that...well, she actually wasn't all that worried about it.
Eventually, she laid the soap on the side of the tub and simply sat behind him with her hands resting flat against his back for a long moment.
Then, moving almost dazedly, she leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to the nape of his neck before allowing her cheek to come to rest between his shoulder blades. "...Done."
Despite the growing intimacy of their moment, a deeply pessimistic part of Joshua's subconscious told him that he should stop this. His awkwardness was reveals in a sudden tension pulling through his naked back; he doubted Tara would fail to notice.
Still, she had kissed him. It was a new experience and the smith was unsure how to respond - he was content to let the bare relax a moment. Eventually, though, he turned, darkenning water churning around them as he came to face his companion, putting an arm around her waist. It was a spur of the moment response as leaned in to return her intimate gesture.
Tara's eyes widened--she probably shouldn't have been surprised, but somehow she still was. Maybe she just hadn't thought he'd be bold enough to return the strangely intimate gesture, even if--despite the fact they were both naked in a bath--the contact between them was still rather chaste.
She sort of hitched up against him, not sure herself if she was really trying to lean into his chest or lean away from his arm.
"Joshua..." Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips instinctively, but they were so close that even that tiny movement caused her bottom lip to brush against his. She froze, unsure and awkward in the sudden increase in intimacy. It was a rather new experience for her.
Though she had leaned in close, Joshua could feel a moment's discomfort flow through Tara, made more obvious by her nudity. This, combined with his own nervousness, guided the smith away, hands sliding up to her shoulders as he leaned back. With a moment to think, the smith realized how unprepared he was and gave an awkward cough before turning way from his companion.
He was about as clean as he could be and said as much, rising out of the tub. "I'll let you finish up..." he added before grabbing a thick towel and walking toward the divider, slipping into his quarters again. He needed to dress, as well as calm himself down; he was turning somewhat red despite himself...
A soft, shuddering sort of sigh that might have been relief or disappointment--and she really couldn't tell which--shivered its way through Tara's body as she sat back and averted her eyes while he climbed from the tub.
"Right. I'll just...be a few more minutes," she mumbled, hoping she sounded at least a bit more relaxed than she feared she did. She waited until he had vanished behind the divider before rising herself, quickly making her way back to her side of the tent to dry herself off and dress.
She was blushing. She never blushed.
Gods be damned pyromancers...
Once he had done up the last button of his yellow doublet, Joshua was reluctant to pass through the improvised washing area but knew that staying and listening to Tara bathe would only fluster him further. Talking a calming breath, the now dressed smith steeped back out, steeping toward the tub. "I was going to see if there was work to do for the Guard..."
It was an awkward thing to explain in context but once said, Joshua made his stiff way toward the entrance...
"Wait."
Tara stood from the tub, having snatched up one of the towels that had been left and wrapping it rather haphazardly around herself. She just stared at her companion for a moment, then shook her head and glanced away, a hint of color dusting her cheeks.
"Just...gimme a few minutes so I can get dressed and go with you." Trying for her usual sardonic smirk, she added, "Who knows what trouble you could get into without me?"
Please don't leave me alone. I don't know these people, I don't know what I'm doing, I...I'm scared. Don't leave me here alone.
She didn't say any of that, of course, just picked her way out of the tub and back behind the dividing curtain so she could dress herself. She wasn't sure if Joshua would humor her or not, but...well, she could hope.
He was unsure what but something told the smith that the bards words did not match her feeling. In all fairness, he was not really a friend with the regiment, only familiar with few of its members so it made sense that the girl would be at least somewhat uncomfortable...
Tara was quickly finished dressing and as she exited the partition, she found Joshua had remained, somewhat redfaced from a momentary flight of fancy. Clearing his throat as he shugged off his ideas, he said, "So...uh...shall we?" He held the entry flap open for his companion.
Outside the tent, things seemed rather busy. Soldiers and servants were moving rather quickly, getting gear and supplies together. Amid the commotion, a blond spearman marched toward them. "The Colonel wanted to speak with you," he informed before giving a vague signal for the two outsiders to follow...
The bard tilted her head at him, taking in the slight redness to his cheeks. She tried not to let that go to her head.
She just nodded to him as they stepped out into the camp--then had to resist the urge to duck back behind the smith as the bustle around them hit her full force. Tara straightened her shoulders out as the spearman approached.
"Oh, the Colonel. Right. Thank you." She glanced up sidelong at Joshua. "Shall we?"
The soldier led the back to the headquarters. A handful of halberdiers stood guard, marking the groups passage but not impeding the trio. As they neared the flap, raised voices could be heard through the canvas barrier though exact words could not be made out.
A Tara and Joshua's approach, one of the guards signalled to stop just as the argument ceased. Within moments, the tall swordsman from the night before stormed out of the tent, almost bumping into the bard in his haste. Forced to pause, Wolfram took a moment to glance over his shoulder before bending close to the girl's ear. "Meet me by the stables later..." Before she ask him to elaborate, the Lieutenant took his leave, clearly aggrevated by whatever had transpired.
Joshua knew this could not bode well but could not think of anything specific and could have only shrugged if his companion questioned him. Before they would have had a chance to ponder things further, an authoritative voice from within demanded that they enter...
Within they found a woman, seated in a simple camp stool, appearing darkly pensive as her lips pressed against her clasped fists. Her brooding demeanor was only amplified by the raised red scars radiating down from her temple. Still, her pale eyes flickered up to her two guests and she quickly pushed herself to her feet. "Joshua, its always good to see you," she said, clasping his shoulders and pecking him on each cheek. "I'm sorry I could not welcome you back myself."
Oh...Uh, its fine," the smith replied awkwardly. Despite being Connloathian himself, he rarely found himself in situations where he might be greeted so conventionally. Or perhaps that was just an inward excuse to explain himself. Glancing back to his companion, Joshua quickly sorted through his words. "Colonel Mandel, this is Tara, a...friend." It felt lame and noncommital to simply introduce her as his friend but it was all he really had to go with...
"Of course, Tara. A pleasure to meet you." The officer offered the bard the same greeting as the young man, a light kiss on each cheek before stepping back. "Again, welcome to the Ash Guard." Gesturing to the other stools arranged around the room, Mandel continued: "Have a seat. We have something to discuss..." Joshua could not help but find those last words ominous.
Tara tensed up visibly when the Colonel kissed her cheeks, her fingers twitched. She had to bite back a sigh of relief when she stepped back, and resisted the urge to actually take a step back.
She eyed the proffered seat a little warily and lifted her eyes to the other woman's face again. "Ah...thanks. But I'm good standing, I think." A quick, almost unconscious glance in Joshua's direction, then she caught herself and leveled a calm, disinterested look back at the Colonel.
"What exactly did you want to discuss, Serrah?"
The officer slid back to her own stool but did not immediately respond to the bard's question. Despite only being a few seconds at most, the silence seemed to drag before Alexis sighed and looked up. "I understand you made a deal with my subordinate regarding hiring use to assist in what I can only assume is some kind of personal vandetta?" Though they were framed as a question, the woman's posture suggested otherwise.
"I am afraid I must withdraw his offer."
The bard just stared at her, expression utterly unchanging. The only indication of any reaction was a slight tensing of her curled fists pressed against her ribs, arms folded over her chest.
She let out a low, slightly harsh breath, then tipped her head to the side and smiled. "Of course, ser. I understand. I apologize for...taking your time."
Her voice was perfectly polite, even. But there was just the barest hint of magic beneath the tone; magic she wasn't entirely controlling, slipping into her voice as the only indication of the turmoil of emotion that she outwardly kept on a strict lock.
The Adhara either failed to register Tara's unconcious working or saw no threat in it as she steepled her fingers, leaning forward. Still, she seemed to notice the bard's reaction and said, "I wish I could offer better, but my men and I..." The Colonel sighed, explaining, "We are soldiers, and with the war ongoing...we're needed here. We can't simply drop everything and send manpower into a foreign land on some, indefinite snipe hunt..."
Joshua could tell this was all a blow and thought to go to his companion, perhaps to comfort her. Still, he felt what lay beneath those emotions and hesitated, fearing what power seemed to bubble just beyond sight.
"I wish you better fortune going forward and hope you find your closure someday, Miss Tara, Master Joshua," the mercenary said before offering a small bow, dismissing the pair of guests. It took all his courage for the smith to take his friends arm, that he might guide her away before something went wrong...
...Well, more wrong...
"Really. Thank you. I understand," Tara repeated, keeping her voice cool and even. She allowed Joshua to take her arm and lead her from the tent--she finally seemed to have noticed the magic swirling in the air around her, and was now making a conscious effort to keep it contained.
There were enough mordecai around that she couldn't really do much, but she could still feel the power swirling beneath her breast, aching to get out. The longer she kept a lid on it, the more explosive an inevitable reaction was likely to be.
Through gritted teeth, she muttered to her companion. "I--I'm going for a walk. I need to get some space from this place." Her fingers were twitching at her sides again, curling and uncurling into fists.
Joshua was unsure what to say. It was very much clear that the Colonel's words had been a blow to the girl but as much as he wished to comfort her, the smith had no idea how. Hell, she might have prefered he remain silent...Haltingly, he offered, "I'll...I can come with you? If you like?" It sounded lame to him.
Elsewhere in the camp, Wolfram donned some of his armor; despite Alexis' orders, he could not let this go. He had a chance to right an old wrong and was in no mood to pass up the chance. He had even managed to coax a dozen Jagers to join his foolish crusade, offering a tidy sum to convince his comrade to provide aid. "What mother did not know wouldn't hurt her," he had quiped. He only hoped it were true.
Now, all he needed was for Tara to join him...
The bard shot him a vaguely wide-eyed, almost nervous look. "I..."
Magic surged beneath her skin again. She gritted her teeth. "If you like. I need to get away from the damn mordecai."
She had no idea just how many auras she was competing with at the moment, but her magic was roiling in response to her emotions with nowhere to go. Voice clipped and tight, she warned the smith, "I'm about three minutes away from a severe magical backlash. If you wanna keep close, on your own head be it."
@DragonSong Much like the minstrel, the riders had had the idea to assemble some distance away from the Colonel's tent. Even as they walked, the pair of visitors might have noticed a handful of men, suited up for combat slipping away from their comrades. How many rebel Mordecai had secreted themselves among the Guards was impossible to know but either way, Tara and Joshua came about the tall mercenary, surveying the dozen riders that came to organize their horses.
At a nod from one of his men, Wolfram turned before lifting the helm from his head. "I was wondering when you two would show." Still holding the reigns of his sturdy destrier, he gestured with a jerk of his head, saying, "These are the men I promised."
Tara's eyes were bright, almost feverish, and her chest rose and fell sharply as her breath started to come fast and shallow.
"You--what--what?"
She couldn't cope with this. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. She knew she was supposed to feel something--relief, maybe, or even satisfaction--beyond the surprise. But with her magic sparking treacherously beneath her skin and her mind whirling in an effort to calculate just how far away from the mordecai she would have to get to find any sort of relief, she couldn't focus beyond the buzzing panic.
She didn't realized she'd grabbed for Joshua until her nails started to bite into his wrist. Tara snatched her hand back quickly, wrapping her arms around her middle as she stared up at the mercenary blearily.
"I--I need a moment."
The tall man offed a sideways nod. "Of course," he said, seeming a little nervous, looking to the smith for a cue.
Saddly, Joshua had none to offer, just as clueless as most Connlaothians on the complexities of magic, which had few real rules beyond those imposed by each practitioner's nature. Instead, the fire magus put an arm around the bard to pull her away.
As far as most know, Colonel Mandel was the only Mordecai in camp and an Adhara at that; her range had never been impressive, only reaching three or four paces. Still, given their history - their culture - it was mostly unsurprising that the dozen riders pulled away from the foreign mage, seeking to avoid getting caught in what ever hell erupted from her.
Tara kept her arms wrapped tight around herself, but she leaned into Joshua’s side when his arm went around her shoulders. She stumbled along where he led, too focused on figuring out the safest way to siphon off the panicking power roiling inside her to care about how fragile she seemed.
She’d worry about it later.
Fire. Joshua was a pyromancer—if he wasn’t going to get some distance from her, she had to focus through an element that had the least chance of hurting him.
Of course, fire had always been the most unpredictable part of her magic. Fuck it. Needs must.
“Get—“ She pressed a hand against the smith’s chest, trying weakly to push him back a few steps. “Keep back, I don’t—not safe—“ She couldn’t keep pressing it down, she had to do something.
Breath in, think, focus, fire. Her mouth opened and her voice rang out, high and fierce and clear, a single sustained breath of music that ripped up through an octave in a burst of noise and magic. Flames licked up around her feet, then spiraled up her form into a miniature cyclone of glowing orange and gold. The heat curled her hair, dried her throat, but it didn’t hurt.
Then it was over. She slumped, allowing her arms to fall to her sides. She took another breath before she risked glancing up at Joshua, expression somewhere between sheepish, wary, and resigned. “...Sorry. It was—it was just a lot, I couldn’t...think of any other way to let the power go.”
The gilded flames of the bard's wild magic consumed the grass as the smith's feet, even as he stumbled back at the girl's push. Green turned to black and Joshua felt his hair rise as it was sapped of moisture by Tara's firestorm. For his part the man absorbed as much of the heat as came toward him, his own eyes glowing orange as fire died lapping at his clothes, leaving to mark except here his sleeve had caught, though he quickly swatted that down. A minor inconvenience.
Still, when his companion awkwardly returned to him, he was unsure what to say. He had never lost control of his magic and found it hard to sympathize. "Right," he said dumbly, looking for a line that would not offend. "I guess it's all been a bit...much?"
Offering a brief glance toward towards the mercenaries - Wolfram's rouge Jagers - Joshua took the bard by the shoulders and asked, "Uh...Are you gonna be okay?"
His hands closed over her shoulders and she flinched, but she didn’t pull away. Tara’s eyes followed his toward the Jagers. Slowly, she nodded.
“You...do you trust this? Them?” She looked back into Joshua’s face. Her eyes were bright and uncharacteristically unguarded. “I don’t know these people. I don’t know what Wolfram wants. But if you think we can trust this offer...” She dropped her eyes, taking a slightly shaky breath. “I—I trust you.”
And the terrifying thing is, I mean it.
The admission almost seemed to be dragged unwillingly from her throat, and it hovered heavy in the air for a few moments after she said it. She cleared her throat and avoided Joshua’s eyes, not liking the sudden wash of vulnerability. “Right. So.”
"Um...yeah," Joshau almost mimicked, recoginizing her awkward attempt to avoid seeming week. He let go of her, hands lacing behind his head as he looked for something to do with them.
His eyes again flickered toward the riders as the nervously fidgeted with their mounts, hoping for some semblance of safety. "I..." The smith paused. He could not tell Wolfram's motives either. "I think he has his own aims..."
"If nothing else," the mercenary said, having approached the pair to defend himself against Tara's suspicions. "Trust that when we cross into Serendipity, whatever advantage I may have over you is gone and the only thing I desire is to help hunt down your prey." Offering a hand for the mage-girl to take, more a symbolic gesture than anything. "Would you be willing to trust me that far?"
The bard eyed his hand for several long moments as though it might suddenly turn into a venomous snake. Then she sighed, reached out, and clasped it firmly if briefly.
"Fine." Her eyes flicked up to his, the indigo deepening to something almost black. "But if you try to hurt either of us, I will whistle the air from your body and watch you choke."
She meant it, but the threat didn't have quite the same weight behind it that it might have normally. She was too raw, too tired. Too confused.
Without really thinking about what she was doing, she pressed her shoulder against Joshua's, making a united front as she looked up at the mercenary and folded her arms over her chest. "So? When do we leave?"
Wolfram was accustomed to threats and gave no reaction to Tara's magically enhanced menace. Still, he had little interest in fighting an enraged magus to he chose not to push back on the matter.
At her question, though he only had a simple response; "If you're in a hurry, we can go now." It was better if the small band was away before the Colonel could stop them and they already had their horses and sladdles ready. He guestured to a pair of extra horses brought forward for the pair.
"Um," Joshua began, seeming clearly awkward at the offered gift. "I can't actually ride," he admitted, eyeing the horse, seeming to ignore Tara's closeness
"You can ride double them," Wolfram informed. Looking back to the bard, he added, "If you have trouble with horses, the same offer goes." The armored warrior indicated his own stallion to illustrate his idea.
"I'm fine," Tara replied promptly. Linking her arm through Joshua's, she added with a bright stage-smile, "Ride with me."
Even she knew she was being a bit paranoid at this point, but she didn't like the idea of letting him ride with one of the mercenaries. And there was something uncomfortable about not traveling in close proximity, after they had done so for so long. Though that wasn't exactly a thought she wanted to examine too closely.
With a shrug and a nod to one of the indicated animals, she added, "I mean, I'm a fair rider, and I'm...well, little." Damnit. "We won't be too much weight together."
"Fair enough," the armored man said, palming his sallet over his head. He took on of the offered horses, guiding it to the two mages after a signal to take the spare away to one of his men, who hurried away. The beasts were not exactly large, but they were visibly muscular - powerful. Each could carry two fully armored men (though this was rarely advisable), and neither Tara or Joshua were knights.
Turning away from the guests, the officer addressed his men: "Alright, mount up. We' got a rabbit to catch." At his order, the rides stepped into their stirrups, easily kicking over their saddles as they waited for the mages and their commander...
The bard swung into the saddle with an ease that indicated long practice, if not necessarily overt comfort. She held a hand down to her companion, eyes flicking over his head to watch the other riders warily for a moment before she gave him a quick nod.
"C'mon then. Just hang onto me, and try not to bounce around too much," she told Joshua with a flicker of a smile, trying to keep her tone light and teasing.
As best he could, Joshua hooked his foot into the stirup, letting Tara help him up as he took his place in the saddle behind her. It was a tight squeeze and he was forced to grip the pommel around around the bard's waist; a position that elicitied a few suggestive glances between the mercenaries.
Wolfram had mounted his own horse in the meantime, and now gave a shrill whistle to bring his men to attention. "You've got a job to do; no getting distracted by gutter fantasies." Wheeling his horse alongside his Serenian client. "I'm guessing we'll be heading south to look for our man?" They could easily figure out where to go beyond that after they crossed the border...
(( @DragonSong - This or your next post might bring the topic to a close? PM me to set up the next arc. ))
Much more used to such attention than her companion, Tara smirked at the mercenaries' glances and snickers and gave an artful toss of her hair. "No need to be bitter 'cause you're jealous, boys," she hummed, voice light but eyes a little flinty.
She subtly maneuvered their horse to keep Wolfram between the two of them and the rest of the party. It wasn't that she didn't trust these men, it was... Well, she didn't much trust anyone.
Except maybe the smith at her back. But that thought was too raw and complicated to linger on for long.
"Aye, south." She gave Wolfram a nod, then glanced back over her shoulder at Joshua, just for a second, and found she was suddenly and powerfully grateful that she wasn't doing this alone. "Right." She exhaled sharply and kicked their horse forward. "Let's catch a rabbit."