Chapter 70: Change
The throbbing headache persisted, though it was taking a back seat to the other sensations around him. His arm was resting over his eyes to block out the sun, his head comfortably laid in Pan’s lap as she gently ran her claws through his hair.
They had decided to spend some time together outside after the funeral and subsequent irresponsible quantity of alcohol he had the displeasure of working off, Pan sitting on her ankles to offer him a pillow in the strangely warm garden. It was a nice departure from the hazy recollection he had of the night before.
Though Pan was confused at his inebriation, Sahari or Tel must have filled her in, because she happily accepted his drunken demand for a cuddle-buddy and the full-body encasement that followed. Unfortunately, despite his usual enthusiasm to occupy time they had alone with something more stimulating, the recent events just made him want to hold someone. He wasn’t even aware of when he passed out, but he awoke as he slept, Pan silently in his arms with a smile plastered on her muzzle from a night of being entombed in limbs. Tel had apparently continued her absence from sleep, but he would do something about that later.
The wind blew gently, cooling what excess heat the sun imparted upon him from above as the ground did the same to his back, him tring to ignore the pain pulsing through with every beat of his heart. A soft touch on his lips had him return the kiss and abandon his reverie, Pan’s small huff of amusement making the sensation in his head more bearable.
“You needed something, Joe?” Harrow called, the sound of clacking wood confirming that Jax had accompanied her, his bandoleer proving to be a noisy part of his equipment. The Human kept his arm pinned to his face, preferring blindness to whatever the hell direct sunlight would do to him.
“Wait for everyone,” he groaned out, only allowing himself to focus on the soothing sensations against his scalp. Jax fixed his bow, no longer making sounds as he moved, but the slight grunt nearby suggested he had chosen to take a seat. Harrow followed suit, taking a spot next to her mate as he felt her fur against his outstretched arm until he moved it to his stomach.
“Is something wrong?”
“Nah, just gotta work out what we’re doing.”
The inquisitive tone she returned with suggested she was giving him quite the look. “What are we doing?”
“Shhhh... Headache. Loud.” he complained softly, nuzzling his cheek into his bonded girlfriend since the fluff was preferable to anything else at the moment. Jax, taking advantage of his lack of inclusion in the request, raised his voice slightly. It was just enough to bother the Human without leaving behind the excuse of ignorance.
“I believe our Grand Hunter has perhaps decided on a plan of action.”
Joseph groaned, flipping off the general direction of the male’s voice and bumping the orange-furred female in the process. “Sorry, Harrow. Fuck you, Jax.”
He felt his hand be held by a furry paw, Harrow pushing it into herself. “If you wished to feel my chest, you need only ask.”
He snorted, a smirk forming until the thump of his own heart hurt his temple. “That’s not your chest, but good try.”
“Oh? You sound pretty confident there.”
The blush had him close his mouth, a frown fading when Pan rubbed her pads over his cheek as she giggled, the sound replacing the expression with a smile and giving him enough footing to retort. “You keep joking, but if you wanted it, you could try actually asking me.”
He heard Jax burst out laughing, Harrow presumably caught in a similar reaction that he had. A french-accented voice called from nearby, the sounds of the facilities door closing informing him that the rest of those he expected had arrived. “Finding yourself unsatisfied, Grand Hunter?”
“Offering, Sahari?”
She chuckled, sitting nearby as Nalah huffed in amusement. “I believe you had denied last moon. Have you changed your mind?”
Harrow released his hand, the subtle sound of sniffing leading into her boisterous excitement that ruined the back and forth. “WHEN?”
“Ow. Harrow. Headache.”
He heard the regret in her voice as she apparently settled herself from her energetic shuffling. “Sorry...”
Sahari spoke, her tone smug, yet also warm as she ignored the yelled question. “We were summoned?”
“Tel?”
“She is occupied at the moment, though she sends her apologies,” Jax provided, the tone of his voice showing he was suppressing his laughter at the continued exchanges on top of the genuine disappointment that he hadn’t brought her along.
Joseph nodded, regretting the decision instantly as he flinched from the pain. A mug placed into his hand had him take a cautious drink of the water offered. “Thank you.”
“It is my purpose, sir. No gratitude is required.”
A breath preceded the sigh, him not having the energy to temper the tone of the Blade further than he had already managed. “Thanks for getting everyone Scarlet.”
“Of course, sir.”
“So why are we here?” Nalah prodded, her voice containing a subdued contentment. He lifted his arm enough to peek at her, shunting his eyes closed and replacing the blockade after seeing her leaning into her new lover with a satisfied expression.
“We gotta figure out what we’re doing.”
“Which is?” Harrow continued her previous line of questioning with curiosity, the slight bounce of her leg nearby brushing him with the fur as inactivity failed to quell her liveliness. He cycled a deep breath as he prepared to lay out what he wanted their input on.
“As you guys know, we’re some vague pack that stormed onto the stage and caused trouble.”
“That would be you,” Sahari corrected teasingly. Joseph rolled his eyes, though the arm removed any effect.
“Fine. I caused trouble. Anyway. Word got out, and people who would be better off here are fucking terrified. Add in the matter of the Atmo that might be around, and we need to think about how to advertise. Given that ‘Marketing’ wasn’t a department I have experience in, I’d like your input.”
“Didn’t Pan run a store?” Harrow asked.
“Yes, though it was a small local tailor affair,” Pan corrected, her being the only voice toned down so that it wouldn’t stress his ears. He felt her tail lay against him in a small embrace as she felt his thankfulness without the need for him to speak more than necessary. The bond was useful at times. “Considering my condition and the size of the town, word of mouth was sufficient for my needs.”
“We could ask Bratik to speak well of us,” Jax offered, a casual tone taken now that there lacked easy material to joke about. The Human grunted agreement, though followed it with a questioning one.
“Would he, though? Like, what do we ask him to do? Just spread the word that we’re accepting people and that we won’t whip them?”
“Sounds better than a few things I can think of,” Harrow admitted, a slight tapping proving that she was doing such against her muzzle.
“Hit me.”
“Well.” She laid a paw down, her arm pressing weight into his as she shifted to get comfortable. “We could give him a better bow?”
Sahari started to disagree, stopping when Joseph raised a finger for her to wait. “Why?”
“We could show that there are material benefits to befriending us,” Harrow clarified quickly.
“He is one of the Great Hunt, and his mate is of the church as well,” Pan offered, her gentle stroking pausing as she used her paws to accompany her speaking. “It is unlikely that he would do more with such gifts than speak well of us, assuming he requires further motivation.”
Joseph nodded, not really getting why religion was being brought up, but conceding that Pan seemed convinced of his character. “So, recurve or crossbow?”
“Recurve,” Harrow answered firmly. “It beats out anything else floating around without showing our claws too easily.”
“Should we give him enough for his pack? Help him out a bit?”
She hummed in thought, hesitant to part with their advantage so easily. Jax voiced his opinion. “I believe we would only stand to gain from such. If we provide them in a hidden state with instruction to unveil them within the privacy of his den, we may also avoid the informants gleaning our progress.”
“Right, right. Those guys. How is that going?”
“They’re pretty busy with Heralt and I,” Nalah explained, a mild annoyance working its way into her tone. “Looks like they’re more interested in our construction and metalwork than anything else, so our distractions are working.”
“I don’t really care if they learn how to build a house,” Joseph admitted dryly. “Alright. We’ll gear em up with some bows. Toss in some armour too. Grieves and bracers. Should be just as easy to hide and will give them a hint to work off of.”
“Find yourself fond?” Sahari questioned innocently, though the sentiment was a valid one.
“Dude stuck his neck out for us. We’re helping him. End of discussion.”
“As you command, Grand Hunter.”
He couldn’t help but smirk at the satisfied tone. “So Bratik gets bows and armour on the condition that he spreads the word and maybe sends any servants or the like that he can’t support for now. Everyone okay with that?”
The unanimous sounds of agreement was marred by Harrow. “For now?”
“I’m not against housing a friend for a spell. If it’s a permanent relocation, that’s fine too.”
She hummed in understanding, though the slight uncertainty was present in the sound. If it was enough to sway her opinion, it didn’t show.
“Now. Atmo. Suggestions?”
“Isn’t Violet a Queen?” He chanced the headache to raise his arm, his questioning brow raised in her direction. Jax was slowly rubbing her back as she spoke, the female seeming rather pleased with the soft touch that she let herself fall into a bit. “Couldn’t she send out a summons?”
He opened his mouth to argue the point, faltering as he thought about it. “Scarlet?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Can I ask you to grab Volta and Violet?”
“As you wish, sir.”
She bowed, walking away silently in a way that Tel would be proud of. Or judgmental. Her opinion of the other Blades seemed to fluctuate.
“Volta?” Pan asked, her tilted head flopping one ear to the side above him. He chuckled in amusement at the adorable sight before wincing. Worth it.
“Got plans for her,” he replied, replacing the arm. She nodded lightly, the slight shake rocking his pillow somewhat.
It wasn’t a long wait, probing questions from Harrow being rebuffed by the newly mated pair, much to her annoyance. Scarlet announced the arrival of those she had left to fetch, the procedure being sort of useless, given that Violet had laid on top of her adoptive father before the Blade had even finished.
“Oof. Hey, sweetie. Dad has a headache, could you settle for not crushing him?”
Pan giggled as Violet adjusted herself, resting her upper torso over him instead of her entire weight, though she clicked in disapproval before purring as he switched the arm covering his eyes to run his fingers over her back. Volta’s voice came out short but polite, from what he could remember from his lessons, Pan offering translation.
“I am here, as summoned. I pray the sun is treating you well, Grand Hunter.”
A mental sigh was given as he fought the urge to wave off the formality, Violet occupying the hand anyway. “I need you to do something, but I’ll get to that in a second. Violet, do you think we could give Bratik something to show other Atmo? Would they come if you asked?”
His daughter paused in her rumbling enjoyment of his touch, righting herself to fetch a tablet, the soft clacks of wood proving that she had several on hand in case she needed to communicate. He waiting for the scratching to stop, raising his arm from his face when she gently tapped him with the sign.
[Can ask? Tell foun hoomn nest? Is sef?]
Pausing to read, he ended by snorting at the misspellings and feeling impressed that she managed to form a coherent string of thought with her limited English writing. Pan praised her daughter, the expression bordering elation when compounded with his own pride in the young insect.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“She could make small plates that the High Hunter could distribute,” Nalah suggested, receiving an approving bounce from the Queen.
“Is there anything we could put on it to say it’s from Violet?” Harrow questioned, already ahead of the Human who hadn’t thought about possible counterfeits or doubtful Atmo.
“Would the script not be telling?” Jax countered.
“Well, yeah, but Joe said there might be another Queen, right?”
Violet scratched out something for them, Harrow nodding in agreement after a second of reading.
“She said that her blood-mother’s name is enough.”
Joseph felt a pang of sympathy, something that Pan reciprocated as she softly joined in on the scratching. He was curious, but the wound was still too fresh for him to dig into it to any degree. “Sounds good to me. Vi, can you write small enough for it to be put on easily concealable tablets yet?”
[Can try]
“We don’t have a lot of time before they need to leave.” He chewed his cheek slowly. “Can I ask you to see what you can do? Harrow, copy it over if it looks too big.”
[Okay,] she wrote, the text mirrored vocally by the Head of Technology before his daughter nuzzled into him and headed off back towards the base. Volta stood passively where she was, waiting for him to address her.
He lowered his arm, squinting at the sun until Pan shifted herself to block it from his eyes, giving him a view in the process that he had to quickly avert his eyes from before his thoughts led to a reaction that became a centrepiece for the gathering to look at. Harrow laughed as she noticed the slight blush on the both of them.
Satisfied that the minor crisis had been avoided, and his dignity saved, he cleared his throat to address the rest of his plans. “Volta, could you take the Blades under you for a bit? Start with Scarlet then manage the others?”
She blinked, her eyes widened in confusion as she glanced at the mentioned Blade, the latter maintaining her trained subservient posture, though a brow raised slightly in response.
“She is asking what she might provide,” Pan offered for the confused female.
“Well, it’d be helpful for them to do more than skulk around, and it’ll sell the image I want for them if they get familiar with more basic tasks. Plus, with all the new members, there’s going to be an uptick in cleaning needs. She can’t manage it all herself, so it’ll be nice if she has help,” he explained with a wave of his hand, dismissing any concerns for the moment before aiming his response more directly. “Take two at a time to train up once you get her familiar with the work so that we keep two for other shit if they’re needed.”
“You are not going to ask if they wish to do so?” Sahari questioned passively, her tone remaining neutral, though curious.
“Scarlet?”
The Blade bowed deeply, a slight smirk playing under the subdued facade. “I have dedicated myself to your design, sir. Any wish you have of me will be met.”
“The rest?”
“They are of the mistress, sir.”
“Not anymore,” he stated lazily, his tone brokering no argument. “Same arrangement. Whenever they’re not busy with Volta, and neither are you, train whoever you’re with. I want all four of you on the same level. Preferably, you’re all able to disarm people like you do. I want each of you able to lower guards while staying in plain sight.”
“Will you wish of more uniforms?” Pan asked, looking down at him. He smiled up at her for the faith she put into him, not even thinking for a second before trusting his decision. The others would point out if he stepped too far, but she’s more than happy to see through his choices.
“Could you?”
She nodded, returning the soft look of affection. “I will do so between garments for the new members. It will be a lower priority, however.”
“Please.” He turned his regard back to the two who received his orders. “So, yeah. Volta, you get help. Scarlet, you get to tell the others what to do. As the only one I actually trust to be around, I hope you knock some of what you learned into them.”
Volta hesitantly nodded, likely conceding that it would be helpful to have more hands on deck. Scarlet straightened her posture, opening her eyes slightly to look at him. “What shall I tell the mistress?”
He grinned, knowing that this might annoy her, but that she also kind of deserved it. “Tell her that I’ll take over until she changes my mind.”
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The cleaning compounds they were using were fairly makeshift, the alcohol being used in sensitive or frequently touched areas, while the diluted cleaners they had taken to using from the baths were used most everywhere else. The ability to sanitize surfaces as well as make everything look cleanly wasn’t something to dismiss, however.
The thing Volta wanted to dismiss was the Blade she was tasked with teaching, ‘Scarlet’ being a studious example for the sun.
The well-dressed female had barely said a word since they were dismissed from the garden, following behind silently in every form. It was somewhat eerie to know such a lethal Lilhun was in such close proximity, and that Volta was teaching her to clean, of all things.
It wasn’t that she was slow, nor a bad student for such a task, but that she quietly observed and listened to everything that was said, copying what was shown with a blank expression that seemed permanently glued to one the blue-furred female would expect from a professional, if tired, service industry worker.
Were it not for the known background of the female being trained for a different sort of cleaning, then she would have assumed her fairly harmless.
Being fetched from her initial setup for the sun by Scarlet and led to the back of the den, Volta had no idea what might be asked of her by the male that she tried to avoid—if she could manage it without ignoring her tasks, that is. The Grand Hunter struck her as an odd combination of casual and intimidating before, his voice soft and commands unvoiced, but seeing him using the Huntress as a bed had carried with it a slightly different image.
He was far more firm in his choices.
Where before he would seem hesitant to ask much of anything from those around them, as far as she could tell from his tone, this time he had delivered his decisions with confidence, even when it seemed that he was consulting all under his direct command for their input.
It was an odd mix, as far as she was concerned. One that was only compounded by the serene expression upon the Paw’s face as the Huntress gently caressed her apparent bond while the latter, almost dismissively, assigned assassins to learn how to scrub floors.
Huntress Pan had worn her new garments for the pseudo-meeting, the top holding to her form alluringly and the bottoms highlighting the curvatures of her legs. It was quite the endeavour for Volta not to stare, if she was to be honest. The sunlight illuminating the edges of her fur gave the female an almost ethereal presence, as if the Hunt Mother had descended herself to personally bestow the gifts of beauty upon her.
It was fortunate that she was so understanding in Volta’s failure to restrain the young Atmo to within the confines of the den, the imposed urgency of her services availing a time-frame in which the insect could exit without supervision. Instead of chastising or berating her, Huntress Pan had instead dismissed the notion with a small gratitude for doing as much to that point, assuring her that such was an oversight of her own. The magnanimity of such a distraught female, one whom was feeling the pressures of such an emergency, no less, had plucked at the heart strings of the cleaner yet again.
It was terribly vexing that she seemed so enamoured by the alien male, a species she had since learned were called ‘Human.’ Though try as she might, Volta was unable to find any obvious signs of abuse in any form. Something which should have eased her compunctions, yet only made her more anxious for the fate of the scorned defective of their people.
Perhaps it was the additional elation upon the female’s face that shined brighter than the star which illuminated the outside when the insect was communicating upon wooden tablets. The look of pure joy and pride one to be expected when dealing with one’s own kit attributed to the young of a race that held no passing similarity to the proposed ‘blood-mother’ that the Huntress had claimed position of.
Perhaps it was jealousy.
“I believe such area would be completed by your standards,” Scarlet commented plainly, though respectfully. Volta looked down to see that the section of the bathhouse she had been working on had begun to wear into the rag she was using from repeated friction due to the lack of cleaning solution remaining as it dried. She cleared her throat and placed it back into the basin, moving it to the next section they would be working on.
“Apologies, I was lost within thought.”
“Is my performance insufficient?” the female asked with only what might have suggested a hint of displeasure, though if it was there at all, it seemed to be directed inwards. The cleaner shook her head and passed the female a new rag, gesturing to the recessed seating that would need to be done before they could permit a refilling of the bath.
“It was merely my own ruminations, worry not. Your work is surprisingly acceptable. I have worked with many whom were still employed and did not possess half the thoroughness you have shown.”
Scarlet bowed her head, unable to perform the full courtesy due to her kneeling posture. “Your praise is unnecessary, though I am pleased to hear I am satisfactory, mistress Volta.”
The blue-furred female’s ear twitched, a slight confusion working into her voice as she hesitantly wiped down the ledge. “What might I have done to deserve such a title?”
“You were tasked with overseeing my forging,” the Blade responded, her tone suggesting that such was expected.
Volta hummed understanding, though felt the need to prod into the female whom apparently was tasked with the Grand Hunter’s safety.
“The Grand Hunter is the one undertaking such, to my understanding, no?”
Scarlet slowed her work, a curious glance afforded underneath the stoic expression. “My master has seen it fit to include such abilities to my repertoire. I may not understand the reasoning for his decisions, but even his subtlest breaths upon my steel have honed my abilities. Should he wish this of me, I would be a fool to question it.”
The cleaner paused fully, concerned with the title, but wishing to know more about the character of a male whom drew such expressions from the Huntress. “I was under the assumption the grey-furred one was your mistress first and foremost. Apologies if my ignorance is a detriment to my understanding.”
Scarlet shook her head, a faint smile being a surprisingly open visage. “My previous master was Grand Hunter Trill. Mistress is his offspring and the heiress of the Blades, should she choose to follow in his footsteps. Master Joseph has chosen to change that which has crafted many. Perhaps I may still be a Blade, but I know not what I may be when he is finished. All I know for certain is that I have surpassed the machinations and limitations of my kind due to his influence.”
“You seem quite convinced in his competence,” Volta commented absently, resuming her work through her puzzlement.
“I question not his ability,” she confirmed, shifting to work on the next seat, “I only question if the others will.”
“You think they might resent the attempts?”
“Perhaps,” Scarlet mused, exchanging her rag for another. “The others are reluctant to acknowledge his influence, merely basking in the results in their ignorance. I suspect his insistence in their reforging will mitigate it, however.”
Volta nodded, though she wasn’t quite she was following properly. They continued their work for some time, nearing the end of the duties for the sun, when she felt compelled to ask a much pondered question. “What do you think of the Grand Hunter? As one whom oversees him, I mean.”
The Blade glanced at her, noticing the amendment but seemingly disregarding the haste in which it was added. She resumed wiping down the last of what she had been tasked as she answered, a slight edge to her voice reminding Volta of what she was talking to.
“You take issue with him?”
“N-no,” the cleaner stuttered, mind grinding to rectify a mistake that could likely end with Scarlet cleaning a new type of mess. “I am merely-”
“He will do no harm to those dear to him,” the female interrupted, a smirk playing under the composed visage. There was apparently some joy to be had in terrifying her.
Volta cleared her throat to work off the remnants of fear that had her fur standing on end. “I suggested no such thing.”
A slightly twisted giggle escaped the dark-furred female as she concluded her work. “Your gaze was not unlike his own, mistress Volta. The object of your desires is quite evident.” Her tone cooled slightly as a side-eyed look was given for an instant. “As was the one of your mistrust.”
A new origin of fear crossed her mind, though it was swiftly stopped by the Blade tossing her rag into the basin.
“You are of his pack, worry not. He is not of the character to harm those interested in his mates.” She seemed to contemplate something for a moment. “Provided your admiration remain to yourself, that is.”
Volta felt the blood drain from her ears as she swallowed, Scarlet resuming her posture of subservience. The female gestured to the private bath of the High Huntress.
“Shall we?”
The cleaner nodded, pretending not to notice the predatory glint to the Blade’s eye as she passed.
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“Didn’t come to bed last night?”
Tel glanced down from her perch, a stray patch of trees in the meadow that offered good coverage so that she may watch over the Hall where the visiting Blades had taken to resting. Joseph leaned against one below her, his back against the trunk as his arms crossed in front of his chest, his black ‘trench coat’ worn loosely over him as the slight breeze caused the hem to sway. She thought about it for a moment, noting in her mind that she had not slept since the moon that Pan had managed to coax her into rest.
Be it conflicting feelings over the words she hazily remembered the Paw uttering as consciousness left her, or the helplessness that followed after when the servant passed and she was unable to offer comfort, Tel had taken to the task of confirming the movements of the others of her kind as a method of distracting herself from thought. An uncomfortable feeling wriggled through her mind as she fought back that which suggested she barricade her male from the world, lest he fall to its unpredictable subtleties.
Between the fate of many sheaths before her own—including the one of her blood-mother that was reiterated as warning time and time again—or the presence of Blades whom may seek to take him for their own, she felt an unusual sensation of anxiety rampage through her unless she personally ensured that not one drew breath within the same general area as Joseph.
It was a long forgotten feeling, one she thought extinguished as emotional inclinations gave way to cold calculations at the behest of weapons fire, yet it plagued much of her mind whenever she thought it safe to return to his side, the belief renewing as she fidgeted knowing not of every twitch they made.
Even the Blades whom called her ‘mistress’ being posted to observe did not quell her unrest, her only curious ease being found within the one whom Joseph himself had taken to moulding in his image and her odd obsequious manner when stationed under him.
It was another oddity to consider.
Her male had imposed acquisition of the Blades, Scarlet informing her personally. At first, it had struck her as a doubtful claim that ran contrary to his character, but there was a firmness to the female’s words that she felt genuine. She acquiesced, placing them under the dark-red-furred female for whatever training her Sheath would have in mind, when Scarlet informed her of the Grand Hunter’s condition for disputing his claim.
‘Change my mind’
It was a challenge, that much she was sure of. One may think of it as a motive to perform checks and combat against the moulded, break and highlight faults within them so that she may prove her lineage’s methods superior, but the thought quickly dissolved under internal scrutiny.
He yearned for more. He wished for her touch to proceed past their boundaries, for comfort within her acceptance beyond words and platitudes. He wished an end to their ‘games’ and a true beginning to her claim other than a slowly weakening mark that he could not gain reassurance in.
It pulled at her to meet his need. To indulge within his scent more than she had allowed herself to and to sate her own desire to sink within his grasp as he would within hers. To close the gap which remained tentatively open without a threat of demise peeking in their doors to strike while they are otherwise unaware.
It burned her deeper to hear his disappointment at her absence.
“I must remain vigil,” she replied, fighting the urge to glance down at him lest she give into her passive want to be close.
“Tel, it’s been days. Didn’t you deal with them already?” he asked, a slightly hurt inflection paining her.
She had spoken to the Blades that Trill had sent, if such could be referred to as any form of conversation. It was a short series of questions that were met with terse answers and a conclusion of disinterest, the Blades having fulfilled their duty and merely awaiting when they might leave unbounded by their agreement to observe the High Hunter and company.
Much as she suspected, they wished to know if she had found a prospective Sheath, her blood-father insisting one should be found post-haste lest she be assigned one from a suitable pool. It wasn’t that she was particularly bothered about the one whom she should follow being filtered by him, the male had raised three generations of Blades and was quite competent in such matters, but the underlying wish to find her own as her blood-mother once had was what pushed her away from the den in the first place.
Finding what she had been looking for after all this time, and being so hesitant to proudly proclaim such, was what bothered her. It was hardly a secret within his response that he held little concern for such things like ‘love’, the male only trusting blind loyalty within his following. It was a curious case that he felt the need to buy his way onto her particular ship and refrained from further tampering, however.
Besides the most pressing issue, neither Blade was privy to any instruction regarding acceptance or removal of her Sheath once she had implicitly stated that Joseph was her chosen, the two either feigning ignorance or were genuinely not instructed to do much of anything in the event besides ensure adherence to the contract with the caravan.
It was that uncertainty that drove her through the moons.
“I will ensure they do nothing untoward,” came the response, her inner monologue leaking from her lips instead of the thinly veiled assurances she intended. Joseph sighed, a dejected note to a hum following.
“Fine.”
She looked down, expected to watch her male return to whatever it was he felt was required. Instead, he walked towards the Hall, stopping in front of the closed window where the two Blades had taken to relaxing for the last while before resuming their idle wanderings.
A shiver of fear passed through her as he knocked on the window.
Before she could launch herself from the tree to gain a more favourable angle in which to still what might seek to harm him, the plank moved aside, revealing a tired male that Tel had incapacitated the sun they arrived. His eyes widened as he blearily registered whom had disturbed his rest, the expression shifting from irritation to surprise as the Human laid his arms on the barrier between them, the wrists hanging limply within the room.
“Tel. Come here for a sec,” Joseph called out, not breaking his lazy eye contact with the male, the latter shifting slightly as he seemingly became uncomfortable. She complied, wondering what he thought he was accomplishing by placing himself so close to possible danger. Her claws twitched to her roped daggers, her tail feeling for the retraction mechanism as if she was confirming the state of her own body.
“Ask if he’s here to do anything to me.”
She placed herself to his side, cautiously repeating the question as the Blade grew uncomfortable with the stare her Sheath was giving. The male tried to remain stoic, answering in the negative after a prolonged moment.
The glare remained, tension growing until Joseph nodded, a satisfied smile donned upon his face as he turned and waved farewell over his shoulder, lowering the arm to fall around her and pull her along. “Good. Come on, Tel.”
“What were you thinking?” she hissed, glancing over her shoulder to see the male watching them leave with a slightly disturbed expression.
Joseph gave a wry smirk. “I was thinking that I missed my pillow.”
“And it was required for you to risk yourself for such trivial things?”
He shrugged, a sliver of his prototype bracer showing from under his sleeve. It took a moment for the odd choice of resting his arms against the windowsill as he did to register.
He had levelled a weapon against the Blade without the latter noticing in the slightest. It wasn’t a matter of blind confidence or folly, he had willingly armed himself with the intent to bring it to bear should the slightest hint of danger be unveiled, all without displaying such. She narrowed her eyes, searching his face for a hint of what might have caused the change.
“What happened?”
Her male slowed in his step, herself allowing a slight separation to better look at him. “I’ve made up my mind, Tel.”
The sorrow in his voice drew her paw to his cheek, her touch forcing a small smile as her own speech carried a slightly melancholic tone. “What has my male decided?”
“I’m done playing by everyone’s rules, I’m done worrying about every little thing, I’m done giving a shit what people think.” He nodded, confirming with himself before allowing his eyes to meet hers, the diluted reflection of her worried expression a sobering image. “I’m doing whatever it takes. I’m sending out summons to the Atmo, invites for the Lilhuns, and a middle finger for Trill if he thinks I give the slightest fuck what he thinks.”
“You seek to spite those you wish the favour of?” she asked, her tone showing that she merely wished to clarify. He shook his head.
“I’m letting them know that I do things different here. No servitude, no reckless endangerment, no iron fist.” He leaned in, a possessive paw wrapping around the small of her back to pull her closer, his gaze gaining a flicker of heat and determination that she felt scorch her lowers in response. “And not one motherfucker is taking anything from me without losing more.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, her protest hitching in her throat as her arguments surrendered along with the strength in her legs. An involuntary purr made its way into her voice as she gave up on fighting the urge to have him, her claws dragging lightly over the skin down his neck. “And if I take you?”
He let her go, allowing her to stumble in the effort to catch herself. A blink was required to clear her mind enough to process the absence of his warmth pressed against her. Joseph walked away, a smug and teasing tone following behind as he made his way back towards the barracks. “Gonna have to do better than that, Tel. I’ve gotten used to that part of the game.”
She watched in disbelief as he sauntered off with his paws resting behind his neck, the bravado doing nothing to hide the slight heat trailing behind him. Her found herself licking her lips as she planned out her next move.
If he wished to forge his own Blades to Scarlet’s standard, then perhaps they may be enough. His Paw had instilled an idea within her, one that she had resisted due to the inability to trust within others than herself to eliminate that which seeks to harm him. With the admittance that none of the visiting Blades were able to locate the ones within the settlement, and a further reluctance to voice that the one whom had fallen under Joseph’s direct guidance had swiftly disposed of a Blade without so much as being noticed, it was possible that they may reach such level and allow her to truly claim him.
Her tail spun in spite of herself, her body ignoring the wishes of the mind as it only sought to complete their pairing, plans churning out by the dozens as the part of herself she had denied refused to be contained further, waiting for its chance to free itself fully.
Soon, Joseph. Soon, she would show him how she truly wished to play.
Soon, she would change his mind.