She was pondering upon how it had all started. It just seemed that he had a way of showing up when she was feeling unsure, scared, angry and ugly. She lays for a long time thinking on it, and remembers one night in particular...........
She had not been sleeping well, there were just too many thought that were plaguing her hear and soul. It was no wonder she had fallen asleep at the fire. She thinks that she had been having a pleasant dream when she was startled awake by the bellow of the bosk singer. It goes without saying that she was embarrassed. Had she been snoring, maybe drooling? Oh skies, she hoped not.
Sitting up, she had tugged at her skirt, touched her hair, making sure everything was proper. She had even gotten him water, offered him food, just like she was supposed to do. It was quiet, and they talked, and not once had he said anything about seeing her naked. He was a bit miffed at another that had turned him down. She had tried to make him understand what the woman might be going through, to no avail, for the most part, so they let it drop.
Conversation turned to the upcoming move, all the things that needed to be done. She had even offered him the use of her girls to help him get ready. It was then, that he had reached over, ran a rough finger along the back of her wrist. There was something inside her that was screaming for her to snatch her hand back, but here was also something that found the touch comforting. The talk was of normal, daily things. How was his day, how was her day. The banality of it made it comforting.
He took her hand in his. Slim fingers wrapped around his larger, calloused ones. She could not help but think of the music that had come from them, of how he had coaxed it from the leather stretched over the gourd. It was probably because of their previous conversations on the subject, that she was not entirely surprised by his question. "Will you ever take a mate again?" Her answer to him this time was different. Yes, she thought she would. When enough time had passed, for her to trust her heart, yes, she would mate again. It seemed to settle something that had been hanging in the air. But for some reason, the entire conversation just seemed right, natural.
They sat for awhile longer, talking of the move. She told him of a place that she was looking forward to seeing, a place where blue wildflowers grew in abundance, and when the bosk tread through them, it was if they were walking in the skies. He said that he would look forward to sharing that sight with her.
Time came for his patrol, and he had stood, taking both of her hands to help her stand. She had teased him about how good he was at doing that, and that she hoped he was around when she was so heavy with child that she could no longer get up by herself. He vowed that he would be there for her, whenever she needed him, he would be there.
The kiss he placed upon her lips was tender, nothing lustful about it. Sweet. Sweet like the touch of honey upon ones' lips. He had sent her to her wagons. As she walked away, the could not help but turn to look at him, and bid him to stay safe. He would stay safe, for he wanted to lay in a field of wildflowers, his cheek pressed to the swelling of her belly. Those words lifted her spirits probably more than he knew, but in another way, they scared her.
When next she saw him, he was in the company of others, teasing, flirting, simply being himself. They had been on the trail for a couple of days, and she had began to miss some of the others, and had been hearing rumors of some left behind. Being the warrior that he was, just the thought of this was unsettling, and he decided to go back and search for them. When last she saw of him, he was leaving the fires with another, and she had stayed behind to pack food for him and his men. She cannot remember what had possessed her that night, but into his saddle bag, she had placed a talisman. A talisman to keep him safe.
That had been the last she had seen of him for many days. Days that had turned into more than a full moon. She worried. She wanted nothing more than for him to be safe. And it was during this time, that she had heard confessions of love for the man from another, one she also cared about. The one that he had left the fires with. It was then, that she realized that perhaps she had been seeing something where nothing existed.
When next she saw him, he was with that woman, in a very intimate venue. Was she jealous? That is hard to answer. How could she be jealous of something that did not exist, so no. She was more worried for her friend, than jealous. In all honesty, she felt foolish, very foolish.
She had not been sleeping well, there were just too many thought that were plaguing her hear and soul. It was no wonder she had fallen asleep at the fire. She thinks that she had been having a pleasant dream when she was startled awake by the bellow of the bosk singer. It goes without saying that she was embarrassed. Had she been snoring, maybe drooling? Oh skies, she hoped not.
Sitting up, she had tugged at her skirt, touched her hair, making sure everything was proper. She had even gotten him water, offered him food, just like she was supposed to do. It was quiet, and they talked, and not once had he said anything about seeing her naked. He was a bit miffed at another that had turned him down. She had tried to make him understand what the woman might be going through, to no avail, for the most part, so they let it drop.
Conversation turned to the upcoming move, all the things that needed to be done. She had even offered him the use of her girls to help him get ready. It was then, that he had reached over, ran a rough finger along the back of her wrist. There was something inside her that was screaming for her to snatch her hand back, but here was also something that found the touch comforting. The talk was of normal, daily things. How was his day, how was her day. The banality of it made it comforting.
He took her hand in his. Slim fingers wrapped around his larger, calloused ones. She could not help but think of the music that had come from them, of how he had coaxed it from the leather stretched over the gourd. It was probably because of their previous conversations on the subject, that she was not entirely surprised by his question. "Will you ever take a mate again?" Her answer to him this time was different. Yes, she thought she would. When enough time had passed, for her to trust her heart, yes, she would mate again. It seemed to settle something that had been hanging in the air. But for some reason, the entire conversation just seemed right, natural.
They sat for awhile longer, talking of the move. She told him of a place that she was looking forward to seeing, a place where blue wildflowers grew in abundance, and when the bosk tread through them, it was if they were walking in the skies. He said that he would look forward to sharing that sight with her.
Time came for his patrol, and he had stood, taking both of her hands to help her stand. She had teased him about how good he was at doing that, and that she hoped he was around when she was so heavy with child that she could no longer get up by herself. He vowed that he would be there for her, whenever she needed him, he would be there.
The kiss he placed upon her lips was tender, nothing lustful about it. Sweet. Sweet like the touch of honey upon ones' lips. He had sent her to her wagons. As she walked away, the could not help but turn to look at him, and bid him to stay safe. He would stay safe, for he wanted to lay in a field of wildflowers, his cheek pressed to the swelling of her belly. Those words lifted her spirits probably more than he knew, but in another way, they scared her.
When next she saw him, he was in the company of others, teasing, flirting, simply being himself. They had been on the trail for a couple of days, and she had began to miss some of the others, and had been hearing rumors of some left behind. Being the warrior that he was, just the thought of this was unsettling, and he decided to go back and search for them. When last she saw of him, he was leaving the fires with another, and she had stayed behind to pack food for him and his men. She cannot remember what had possessed her that night, but into his saddle bag, she had placed a talisman. A talisman to keep him safe.
That had been the last she had seen of him for many days. Days that had turned into more than a full moon. She worried. She wanted nothing more than for him to be safe. And it was during this time, that she had heard confessions of love for the man from another, one she also cared about. The one that he had left the fires with. It was then, that she realized that perhaps she had been seeing something where nothing existed.
When next she saw him, he was with that woman, in a very intimate venue. Was she jealous? That is hard to answer. How could she be jealous of something that did not exist, so no. She was more worried for her friend, than jealous. In all honesty, she felt foolish, very foolish.
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