Now, when Fonce had joined them, she notice something that she saw him do quite often. He was worrying his thumb nail, picking at it. You have to realize that she has a different attitude towards the warrior than most do. She considers him her best friend, and she has actually known him longer than her mate. They have a friendship that some do not quite understand, and that is fine. But, she also looks at him as she does her sons, and has that same motherly, commander attitude towards him. Call it the wooden spoon mentality, if you will.
Getting up from her place on the furs she invaded that precious personal space of his, sat down and took out a small pouch that she carries for tiny emergencies and situations like this. Holding her hand out she tells him to let her have his hand. Well, you would have thought she had asked him to face a legion of the fiercest warriors on the plains. In fact, he would probably have rather done that then to hand over his palm to the slender woman sitting beside him, wiggling her fingers for him to hurry up, give her his hand.
Amusement danced in the hazel depths of her eyes as he reluctantly surrendered his hand to her, probably because of the ribbing that he was getting from Yamka and Asria. For whatever reason, he did and she went to work on it, taking out a small pair of tweezers and quickly plucking the offending hangnail out, then rubbing the thumb to try and make that small pain go away. Ow! Did he just say......ow? Her head shook as she laughed softly then took out a small piece of sandstone and began to file the nail down. And no, she did not stop with that thumb, she managed to hit each nail on that hand and made mention that a little soap and water would probably not hurt it any, just as she would chide her sons about the same thing.
Now, ask her sons about soap, water and "the brush" and you will see them almost quail in fear. Every few days, from One all the way down to Two, they were subjected to a small tub of water, and a thorough scrubbing down by her and that soapy brush, then had a bucket of water dumped over their heads. Well, she had to get all that dirt, grime and dung off of them somehow, now didn't she? That mother in her just swelled with love and pride when she saw their little behinds take off running to find clean clothes to put on, and she felt she had done her duty. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately for him, he was too big for the scrubbing down with the brush, but do not think it had not crossed her mind.
He had pulled his hand back, and inspected that thumb, probably certain that she had caused some sort of damage that would last the rest of his life. It was almost funny in a way, the way the little boy seemed to flicker in and out of the big, brave warrior. Then suddenly, she had another inspiration.
Again she held her hand out for his, wiggling those fingers, asking for it back. And of course, he was reluctant, maybe fearing she would find some other way to torture him via his hands. But, there is that trust between them and he slowly extended his hand and she turned it over, palm up and bent her dark head over it.
Yamka and Asria were clearly amused as they watched. Ba'atar? He was not even aware the rest of them were there, he was too intent on his slave. Right now, she was basically in a teasing, entertaining mode, at poor Fonce's expense.
Slim fingers made what she considered mysterious motions over his upturned palm, and she spoke with that same mysterious tone in her voice, to read his fortune. He ask if she needed to look at his palm to see his fortune, he would tell her how many bosk he had. Hush Silly. I am reading your future here. Well, that brought a small curious look to his almost black eyes. Curiosity from a spex? She must be doing a good job!
In a soft voice she began to tell of his future, of a dark, mysterious woman that lurked there. Yep, she had his attention, so she goes right in for the kill. A mysterious woman that had a wooden spoon in each hand and that was going to lay them upside the side of his head if he didn't wash his hands.
Well, she waited for it to sink in, fighting a laugh. The laughs came from Yamka and Asria, then from him! Now from time to time they would get a wry chuckle or a smirk from him, but he laughed, a nice, deep down from the depths of his belly laugh, and even smiled and showed that wealth of nice white teeth. Releasing his hand, she was laughing too, and it felt good. He gave her a brotherly hug, resting his chin on her dark head for a moment, still chuckling.
Yes, it felt good to laugh, and to see others laugh and to know that you were responsible for it. She might just need to do this more often. She had a sense of humor, but did not really show it all that much, maybe she should.
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