So with his Adventurer's Mark changed to Iron Micheal and Vivian agreed to travel together. She said nothing of the costs, but bought him what looked to be decent traveling gear putting in orders for what couldn't be bought right away on rush jobs. She had the local cobbler, Hugh Pat, craft a pair of leather boots to his feet of which he remarked on the size, and the tailor, a Miss Taylor Jenkins, took his measurements while being rather free with her hands to investigate his scars and the muscle under his worn and tanned skin. Vivian watched that with amusement, but when they left the shop with promises from Miss Taylor that the work would done on the morrow conveniently just the same time as Master Pat would have his boots finished he did notice that the ties of Vivian's blouse had been reduced another rung of its corded collar. Perhaps it was only the heat of the day, but there was really no ignoring that way she moved her tongue with her mouth just open when she looked at him sometimes, and worst of all she would blush when she knew she was doing it. She didn't seem to do it consciously all the time which was all the more unsettling though it had his heart beating every time he noticed.

  Their next stop was into the combined Bowyer and Fletcher. This shop had a sign that shown a longbow crossed with a staff and arrow, all of a size in the depiction making either the arrow absurdly large, or the bow and stave meant for children, but inside they found Masters Tom Pat, twin brother to the cobbler, and another man Jor Belvadin. Hugh and Tom Pat had both lived in the village for some time and as Micheal had learned, helped with the harvest each year as well as ran both of their shops. Each had a family waiting for them in houses in town that were teeming with children. Both of their wives were kept busy dealing with the small army and keeping them busy with chores, education, and work around the village while the men worked their shops.

   Jor Belvadin was an out of town man, or had been near enough to seven years back, but had lived in the area since. He had eyes for Miss Taylor down the street and had somehow heard of her supposed fondness of the tall, dark, and handsome adventurer that had been recovered from the orc camp. At least that's how Jor seemed to think Micheal thought of himself from what the man said, but Vivian quickly had the man talking all about all sorts of staves and wood. Micheal knew the basics of trees. Like oak, maple, walnut, and could easily tell most species apart that he knew, but clearly that would not be enough for very long.

   'Twist Grain Yew'. 'Heartwood of the Yellow Featherleaf'. 'Shore Oak' and 'Barkless Great Apple' wood. All were trees he had never heard about in his own world or wrote about in this one and those were just the ones he could remember as he listened to them talk. They went through the variety picking through and talking of the strengths and weaknesses of each of the woods. Vivian and the man Jor talked and went through his stock of staves set into barrels at the back of the shop. Indeed the man had seemed to eye Vivian before he spotted her ears, but then did everything to keep his eyes away right up until Vivian got him talking about the various shafts of wood arrayed along the side of the shop. Then it was all business, and wood. Lots of wood.

   The two of them settled on a rounded length of Shore Oak that was just taller than Vivian. The two of them poured over the piece a little while longer talking price. The uncut piece Jor claimed could make a longbow one day that would drop a man at four hundred paces. Vivian argued he would never get the order for such a bow because the draw strength would require attributes in strength and dexterity of B rank or better to shoot with any accuracy. Jor tried to argue it could happen, but Vivian made a few comments about just how far Jor was from the nearest Silver rank equivalent adventurer, and casually remarked how confident he was in the safety of the village if such an adventurer were nearby. That made him grimace and the price was brought down to Vivian's terms.

  Tom however had a lot to say about his family while the other two talked. Turns out in the last couple years both he and his brother Hugh had been blessed to have a set of twins each, and then a set of triplets. All on top of the other three children they had both had. As he went on about it, the lack of sleep, the crowded beds, and the need for more rooms in the house became all too apparent. He even revealed that their wives too had been twins and both were currently with child again. The man looked a bit worn until he spoke of that. Somehow it picked up his mood to know more were on the way, but talking of his struggles with his current children brought him down. It seemed likely from what their wives and the village healer could tell that both women were with at least twins again. Tom spoke then of how the village council was preparing some funds to be put on loan to help the family build a larger, less ramshackle house on the edge of town. He mostly seemed indignant, and more eager to do it himself, but it made clear the village of Rosebridge was a determined and tight knit community that took care of each other. As much as the man complained as he worked with Micheal watching there was an easy air about him and a confidence in his manner. He felt safe and at home here in the community he helped support. It was like a breath of fresh air, a bit of normalcy, with his recent memories being what they were. More and more as the day went on he felt in the back of his mind how his thoughts were avoiding touching those memories. Certain words and questions that brushed the topic felt like he was sticking his hand over the heat of a hot stove and his mind would draw away.

   Micheal said goodbyes to Tom when he and Vivian left the shop and she turned in the street to hand him the staff. She put her hands on her hips and eyed him up and down. He wore a ragged pair of pants that fit, but which the legs ended mid-shin on him, and a large linen sack cloth shirt the innkeeper, a lovely plump woman named Clarissa Fenwick, had cleaned and hastily made into a sleeveless shirt for him. Other than that he went about barefoot in the muddy streets as they went along. His feet were tough as nails after the...after what he had been through.

“Why a staff?” Micheal asked with his eyes drifting over to the blacksmith down the road. His anvil rang as he worked on something inside the awning of the shop front. Being a nerd who enjoyed fantasy literature all his life he had always wanted a proper sword.

Vivian shifted her weight onto one foot with her hands still on her hips. She caught his gaze down the street and caught on to what he was getting at easily.

“Learning any sort of sword play takes time. Far too much time, and we might not have that much before things get dicey. A polearm, which this staff will likely be the base of unless you begin to learn a good deal of magic from someone or by fighting, is easy to learn and to teach. Learn to fight with a quarterstaff and you are on your way to being proficient with the spear, halberd, or even a glaive or poleaxe. The bow is out for the same reason as the sword, and the fact that your dexterity is one of your weaker attributes and you lack the bow skill. We can also hope for you to manifest some magic, but we won't be able to count on it being effective for combat—and still a staff will be more likely to manifest that than anything else other than a wand and you'll have an easier time defending yourself with a great big stick than a little one.” She explained.

“What makes you think I can't shoot a bow?” He asked both curious and defensive. He had gone bow fishing plenty of times. His compound bow was simple and light, but he pulled a good many carp from the waters of the Cedar River in his days.

She tilted her head and tapped the back of her left hand. “It's not in your skill list. In fact you had no weapon skills in there at all. It's part of why I believed you. Even villagers learn the spear, bow, or quarterstaff. Danger is a part of life here, as you must have learned in that camp. If you can't defend yourself you will be dead within an hours walk of the village.”

He raised his eyebrows at her. This place seemed a little safer than that. They had walls in a way, it was a little gap-toothed to be a true fortification, but even then the walls were nothing that couldn't be scaled in the night or toppled by a large and dangerous sort of monster.

She rolled her eyes in return and stepped a little closer.

“Well maybe not right away, but a troll, a gnoll, certainly goblins, even some of the aggressive wild beasts will come after you if they feel you are undefended or weak. You can get away with carrying a knife like these villagers do if you stick to the roads, but even they know how to use them, or can at least fake it when they need to. As big and tall as you are, if you're out alone carrying a big stick the lesser creatures that could otherwise run you down will think you're not worth the thumping they might take trying.” Her green eyes sparkled in the noonday light as she looked up at him. What she said made sense, but he had other thoughts on his mind.

  A junebug, or whatever equivalent made that long loud buzz here called from somewhere nearby. The wind lightly tossed to loose ends of Vivian's braided hair and the scent of her drifted into his nose almost completely separate from other smells of the town. For a moment he saw in detail every little thing about her once again. That scar on her cheek, the way her clothes moved and leather bent as she moved, the many tied ends of her clothes looking like unadorned tassels in the breeze. A sudden breeze brought fresh air almost like never he had never really know what fresh smelt like before, and for a brief moment he felt he was glad to be here. That of course made it the first time in a long while. It almost startled him. There was no real medicine or comforts as he knew them here. No police or emergency services. But he liked it. This world seemed to have magic like he had if not totally worked on the details of; there were elves, old timey villages with sprawling family houses, everything was local and there was unlikely to be any sort of interchangeable parts system in place giving everything that personal custom job type feel. There was some sort of basic agreed upon measurement system, but keeping that consistent with med-evil technology would be a challenge if not impossible across a nation. Likely he would have to get his own set of weights he trusted or be scammed by a merchant's personal set once he had the coin. Assuming he would at least.

Vivian reached up to pat his cheek softly. She smiled up at him as she grabbed his attention. “You will do well with time. Don't overthink it. We will take care of things one at a time, and we'll manage.” Somewhere between her eyes and the soft touch of her hand he almost forgot where he was. Her smile widened at whatever expression was on his face, and she whirled about gracefully to continue on and possibly to hide another sudden blush. What on earth was going on with this woman? She was reserved and calculating one moment and then flirty and blushing the next. Not that he didn't like it exactly, but it certainly didn't help him decide on what to think about her.

They went down the muddy street with people waving and giving greetings that varied from warm to reserved as they went, but they were at least friendly on the face of it. Some of the women did look back at Vivian as they went the other way, but most of them watched the men of the village like angry hawks ready to dive when they were in the street together. Likely whoever slipped and let the village women notice him looking at Vivian would be paired up with a woman within the week to set him straight. At least that was the feel he got from what he could catch of the fading conversations of some of the women. Always someone had a cousin or sister in this village or town nearby who needed a good husband to take care of like a man was like a good chair or some kind of useful farm animal.

They went down one more street and they turned to go into a large store that for all the world looked like an old west general store right down the painted sign on the front of the building. Inside the appearance was confirmed. Bottles of alcohol with strange writings were arranged in order with some he could read on the first shelf; like over stylized times new roman letters lined various parts of the walls along with all sorts of other bottled liquids. A few daggers were laid out in a case case beside a barrel of swords stood next to it; a few size sorted and unstrung bows leaned up against the shelves above in a barrel beside the swords, sacks of grain, straps, buckles, belts, sewing kits, fire starting kits, branded potions with stamped labels, the same of poultices and other cures, and all manner of other things from tiny bottles to large packs or traveling gear were neatly set about the shelves set along the walls and in stands and freestanding shelves set up in the middle of the large room. There was even a rack full of clothes on some sort of wheeled cart in the back, but none of it looked to be close to fitting him.

The shopkeeper greeted them, offering them welcome as adventurers. From the empty crates set neatly atop each other just outside the door it looked at though the man had done a great deal of restocking with the departure of Vivian's guild members. What had their name been? The Unbroken Guards? He wasn't sure if he remembered that right.

She brought him to a section in the back near the clothes where a shelf was set with all sorts of leather goods. It held mostly things like sacks, belts, and straps and the like, but Vivian picked up a pouch that reminded him a little of a fanny pack if it had come with a belt. And indeed she checked the buckles, tested the stitching on the straps with sharp tugs, and turned it inside out to inspect more of the stitching.

“This will do.” She said as she pressed it into his hands.

She thumbed through the belts on the rack set next to where she had gotten the pouch and quickly made her way through their number to the longest of them. She turned back to him long enough to pull the belt around his middle and check the fit with the pouch. Both were satisfactory it seemed and the belt she picked out went into his hands too. She pulled apart bags and leather sacks, checked drawstrings and the like before settling on a large leather bag looking thing with shoulder straps made into it. The top had a flap of some kind of treated or oiled linen, the bottom had leather strips neatly tied into tight bundles that could be undone and secured around a bedroll, the bottom rim of the bag seemed to be rigid and formed into a square shape by something inside like the stiff spine of the thing going up the back. There around its modest girth was stitched to it many rugged looking oiled linen pouches of varying sizes.

“Yes I like this one. Stitching is good too. Can never have too many pockets.” Vivian mumbled half to herself before shooting a glance back at him and blushing again.

Right now Vivian appeared to have no more pockets than a few small belt pouches barely wider than the belt itself and the large leather one about the size of a large book that hung on her left hip. She kept her coins in there in sometimes long and sometimes fat linen bags depending on the coin that reminded him of long baby socks and the larger the little bags fancy bottles of alcohol came in sometimes. She was very neat it seemed. Anyway that pouch was divided into sections and looked to be well used and cared for. Every time she opened it he saw she had a writing set, ink bottle tightly stoppered, and bronze pens slotted into leather shaped leather holes next to a slot in the bag that held a small leather bound book. She had taken notes of each of her expenditures in town, but it looked like the writing on the One Ring. The writing must have been some sort of Elvish and he couldn't read it for the few glances he had of it.

Before long however she had him struggling to carry all the little things she was handing him. A suture kit, fire and knitting kits, spare needles, thread, a waterskin, a hooked skinning knife, a fillet knife, fine braided fishing line, small steel hooks, a small shovel with a little T handle, rolled bandages, a number of small tins that declaimed some ointment or another across the top, a bundle of fine ropes, steel rings and three foot long springy steel poles that she said was a snare for small game; A thick glassed bottle of some other oil, a few bars of wax paper wrapped soap, a crude looking tooth brush made of wood and bleached animal fur, and a tin of something mixed with baking soda that was for cleaning his teeth. It went on for a little while until he had to start sticking things into the pack she picked out via its oil treated linen covered maw.

The man who ran the general store looked at them both with raised eyebrows as they finally came to the counter. There was a good deal of small spaces on his shelves now, but he would make a good deal of money today as it appeared he had before and seemed to be pleased enough once he eventually saw inside Vivian's hip bag. All three of them worked together then with the contents of the bag spread out on the counter. Vivian handed Micheal items from the pile and advised him about where they should go in his new bags as the shopkeeper wrote down what they were purchasing. Luckily the shopkeep knew all the prices so it was easy for him to list up a total once they were done. The whole of it ended up being a whole big gold coin of some make and some spare silvers and coppers, but Vivian counted them out to the man, and he checked their markings and got out his scales and weights to compare against the ones she had that weren't of Ruldanjan make. It seemed a good deal of money from what Micheal could pick up; they had hardly spent this much at the other stores. The shopkeeper kept shifting his mustache and looking he and Vivian up and down as if he were unsure how to pair up the two of them. He did quickly notice the mark on the back of Micheal's left hand, but that seemed a piece of the puzzle he quickly put away. He also raised an eyebrow at Micheal's obvious lack of familiarity of some subjects, but other than that he didn't say much, but to advise on the storage of one material or another.

There was so much room left in the pack once they were done he almost didn't believe it. He pulled it shut and threw the stiff linen flap cover over the top and buckled it down over the sagging top end of the leather sack. Vivian really knew how to fit everything away. The shopkeeper had helped as well and offered them a few accessories to go with what they were buying to better keep the products. He did not charge for the small leather case that would go with his belt beside his pouch that would hold the knives and fishing gear they had bought. He even gave them a few waxed and sealed bricks of hard tack that were wrapped in paper that was covered in red script different from both what he could read and what Vivian made notes with in her little book.

Once he was paid Micheal threw on the pack and made his way with Vivian back out into the street. It was growing late into the afternoon now. It wasn't quite dark, but already lights were coming on in houses and a man went around with a burning ember glowing on a long pole to light lanterns Micheal had seen refilled during the day by a man with a ladder. They had spent a good deal of time picking through the general store, much longer than he would have thought.

As they made their way back to the Inn he reached out to take Vivian by the hand and pull her to a stop. He had to say something to her. He had to thank her for this, but even as he got her attention his thoughts slipped from his mind and he had to hastily bring up words again or simply gape at her.

She looked back at him curiously, the setting sun showing golden in the street all around them. The light seemed to glow off her skin and her hair turn from auburn to a golden red. Her green eyes shown in the amber light of the summer sun. It took him a moment and he felt his tongue take off at a nervous gallop after his mind found his thoughts again.

“Thank you Vivian. For saving me. For buying all these things for me. I would really be lost without you to guide me.” He said to her his voice growing heavy with emotion he had to wrestle down as he spoke. It rose from somewhere in him as he had one of those moments where he knew his life was about to change. Not a horrible sinking moment of terror, but of rising hope, expectation, and wonder. If this really was the world of his books and the Dungeons and Dragon campaign he had made he was at least partially excited to explore it. Not to mention the fact that he would see and perhaps perform the magic of the world himself. That in itself was a dream, a fantasy held since childhood, and the lingering imaginations of that child had grown into the drive that brought him to write stories of his own instead of just diving into more books.

She looked back at him with a slightly expressionless face for a moment, but that melted away into one of her smiles and a faint blush. She took a small step closer and took his hand in both of hers level with their waists. Micheal took the chance he gave her to better state his appreciation for the woman who was clearly ready to take him under her wing.

“I have nothing here, but what you and the villagers are willing to give me. I will do the best I can to learn everything you are willing to teach me, and I'll try my best to meet whatever standard your guild or whatever will require of me.” He said to her and meant every word of it. Her strong hands squeezed his back as he gave hers a grip to match his sincere thanks.

She laughed softly, and stepped right up to him with her hands still around his one. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. It was getting harder to see in the rapidly fading sunset light, but her blush was still there and her eyes twinkled as he spoke. To his very slight shame it made butterflies start up in his gut that hadn't felt so strong since middle school and his first girlfriend. Vivian was beautiful, independent, and cared enough to stay behind to get him back on his feet. Could he really ask for a better friend and first companion than what she offered?

“You've seen some of the worst of this world already. I'll show you how much better it can be as long as you keep trusting in me to show you the way. You will become strong in time, and the guild will have need of what you will be able to do. Attributes like yours aren't for the standard adventurer, and the change to Iron on your mark after pairing up with me makes me think something is on its way toward you. Whatever fate has planned for you changed when we agreed to travel together. Good or bad as adventurers we're in this together.” She said, sounding as sincere as she could be. Her hands gripped his tightly and her shining green eyes looked confident.

“You didn't say a lot about that change. It just seemed to set you into motion.” He mentioned feeling a bit nervous and still very fluttery inside with her standing so close to him still.

She nodded and brushed back a strand of hair over her ear. That was a classic motion he was sure all women knew how to use. For some reason it brought out the lines of their faces, and the glance away as they did seemed to brighten the color of their eyes when they looked back.

“I didn't finish telling you about the mark. When it changes like that it's almost like that its the closest you will get to a warning. The sudden changes at least, and the ones that happen when you're supposed to be resting right after a job.” She explained. Her fingers were slowly interlacing with his, and it was drawing a great deal of his attention. His staff leaning on his right elbow was slowly slipping as both their hands touched. “It's easy to notice on marks like yours with it just on your hand. I can only really notice quick changes like that in the bath and only if there's mirrors around.”

She wasn't looking right at him, her eyes seemed to be wondering the line of his collar bone, and maybe watching the way his adams apple moved when he gulped, but he raised an eyebrow at her all the same.

“Uh...should we umm..” He began feeling a little nervous as he did. “Check your mark?”

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She looked up at him then and smiled in an almost predatory manner. After a tense moment of meeting her eyes one of her hands slipped away from him and she pulled back the collar of her blouse without a word.

He had to stand even closer to her to fully make it out and the angle of the sun didn't make that easy, but he was able to peer down the back of her shirt to see the letters and script from the wrong way round and the mark’s bronze outline.

“What color?” She asked her breath in his ear as she very nearly leaned back against him.

“Bronze I think, it could be copper, but its hard to tell in this light. It's darker than mine was before at least and not bright enough to be gold.” He answered, doing his best to keep his voice from cracking as he saw the soft lines of muscles going down her back and the intricate and beautiful mark spread across her shoulders and back like a tattoo.

“You sure you don't need a better look?” She asked in a very soft voice in his ear as she actually leaned back into him. He could almost feel the energy of the smile on her face. Her fingers touched his hand and ran between his with a gentle, lithe energy where he had pulled back her collar a little. Standing so close with her he could almost feel what it would be like to have the woman in his arms. His heart was starting to pound so loudly in his chest that he began to forget the butterflies.

He struggled to speak in the short moment she gave him before she pulled away from him. However she wasn't put off by his nervous reaction and took his hand again with fingers interlaced before heading back to the Inn.

She bought them both dinner there, another few coppers noted in her log book for that on top everything else, and a bath besides. Sweet Mistress Fenwick did have a hard time accepting they were going to be bathing in the same room, but Vivian talked her into that at least after having given up on them both using a singular large tub. Part of him wanted to politely disagree with Vivian and side with Mistress Fenwick, but there was a large number of the little men in his brain that lobbied together and threatened retribution upon himself if he did such a thing. It left him to be quiet and thinking about anything else going on in the room to fight down the butterflies. Micheal wasn't much a fan of ales and other such brews, but the one that had been brought to him before that conversation was empty after. It had been years since he had been so familiar with a woman and bathing with Vivian sounded like either a dream come true, or some other kind of fantasy. Which he was in technically already. So maybe it fit? Either way that ale did loosen him up a little, and it wasn't so bitter as some he had back home.

In much too short a time their cleaned dinner plates were pulled away to the kitchens and Vivian dragged him along to bathing rooms. Inside two large copper bathtubs held fresh steamy water, each with a copper framework holding bars of soap and scrubbing sponges on short shafts or with small handles. There was a plate holding a few brushes and the like on a small table against the wall that held up a mirror supposedly for the bather to be able to take care of their hair.

Vivian undid belts and ties faster than he had mind left to him to compare to. She laughed loudly throwing her head back and giggling as she worked her long braid out standing stark naked before him taking in his shocked reaction as she did. They had only barely got the door shut.

“You're as red as cherry apples Micheal!” She laughed.

“I didn't think you'd just strip like that!” He replied trying not to look at her lovely subtly supple curves on what he thought was going to be a more lithe or remember where there were scars against the lovely tan silk that was her skin. She was a warrior, a fighter, and was proud of her strong body. She didn't shrink down or try to hide herself or any of her scars instead standing proudly and laughing as he peeled his eyes away from her.

He pulled his rough sack shirt over his head and began struggling with the ties in his sad excuse for pants when he heard her soft bare feet come across the rough tile floor of the bathing room. She pressed against his arm and then smiled up at him when he looked at her. It felt like he swallowed a lead weight, and his heart was practically galloping in his chest.

“This won't be the first time you see me undress.” She said softly, but in a manner as serious as it was teasing. “I will have to be able to change around you when we travel outside of these towns and villages anyway so you might as well look.” Her eyes were twinkling and her small little grin was definitely predatory. Sexy and predatory. Though she was blushing bright red all the same and almost giddy with it.

His eyes almost crept down the length of her before her smile began to split her face enough to show teeth.

“Besides.” she said. “There's only one bed in my room, and I didn't buy you another day in the other. That lady is nice, but her rooms are expensive.” Her blush seemed to grow, but she only seemed to grow more encouraged by the moment as he struggled to keep his eyes off her and the way he was shying from her touch and desperately trying to keep his eyes from taking in her long limbed and muscular form.

He coughed and was suddenly aware of what he might reveal when he dropped trow, but then did it anyway and with her giggling on his arm walked over to the tall baths and offered to help her in. She giggled and laughed, shaking her head as she let him go and slipped into the other tub. For some reason she seemed to go between blushing and laughing all the while again. It was very unsettling to say the least for a man who hadn't been intimate with a woman in years, but she had such a wonderful laugh and her bright, encouraging smiles washed away his uncertainty when they came onto her face.

As he climbed into his he had to fight with the sensation of her eyes on him, but soon enough he was in and was focused on getting himself clean. It made him think of all the times in that camp he had wished for a shower or even a bath like this. Each thought incredibly sobering as they came, and yet brought a different tamber to the racing beat of heart. How he had missed his little apartment, and it's nice little heated bathroom. It had seemed someone at least had given him a rough sponge bath to get off the worst of the grime he must have been covered in, but he was still pulling plenty of dead skin and other build up away as he washed. It made him feel like he was shedding, peeling away the old dirt and grime that had stuck on despite someones attempts to clean him while he was in bed. He tried to ignore the raised legs, and playful stretches Vivian displayed in his peripheral vision as she washed and giggled to herself in an almost drunken girlish version of the cool display she maintained most other times.

It wasn't long before the water went dark and soapy and he found he wanted out of the bath whether he was in warm or not. The soapy water had quickly darkened with him in it. Vivian slipped from her own much cleaner tub of water to come to him and point out a large cauldron with a few buckets in the corner of the room. He tried to take into account what she said about them traveling together, but every time he looked at her shapely form it made his blood go hot and she seemed to know it. Her smiles and grins were turning slowly, a little less playful and something a little more, but her eyes were painted with concern as she picked up on the mood that carried him during his silences.

They went over to the cauldron together and Vivian showed him the bucket and ladle that was used to rinse off once out of the bath proper. She admitted she should have scrubbed him down a little before he got into his own bath, but made up for it with a few buckets turned over his head and her body pressed up against his back. She scrubbed his hair after mixing a soapy looking powder into it with a little water and she worked his scalp to pull away what felt like a second skin of dirt and mud stuck inside where his previous caregiver had not been able to reach without dragging his unconscious form to this room. Oily mattes deep in his hair came loose and apart as she worked. Of course she laughed again when she came around in front of him and saw the effect she had on him, but the feeling of being washed by a woman was so pleasant that he didn't find any thread of complaint even if she was really just teasing him for now. In fact it was growing difficult for him to be bathed in such comfort and pleasantness. Like the mats being worked out of his hair by the soap and water it was loosening something in him too. Each bucket of almost steaming hot water felt like it was eating away at a long forgotten icy core in his middle.

She carefully rinsed him clean again and again. Her hand ran down the scars on his back and across his arms and shoulders. He had only thought he had felt clean before when he woke up because that had been an incredible change from where he had been. The change was no less significant now compared to that change with the addition of Vivian's soft touches. She worked a tension out of him he didn't know was there with the gentle touch of her fingers as she ran the soap across his back. It had been so long since he had been this close with a woman. Just to be near her, hear her laugh, and touch him was therapeutic in a way. He felt a genuine affection building for her in his heart even though he was unsure of what to make of it yet. Was she just a friend unafraid of teasing him, or would she be a lover? He knew which he wanted right then, but he respected her too much to make some kind of move on her after what she had said, and what she had given him already. Still he wouldn't ask her to stop for the world right now. Compared to that place...that camp this was...this was...

She went to the cauldron again to retrieve another bucket and dumped it over herself before filling it once more. It wasn't cold in the room, the summer heat actually made the air rather thick inside the bath, but the warm water was certainly better than sweat. The tiled floors held the heat of the water well, and besides there was a chimney and fireplace built in around the cauldron itself through the fire was very low beneath where it hung.

She set it next to him as she came around behind him as he sat on the stool there. Her wet body leaned in gently against his back. She was smooth compared to the furrows of scar tissue there. Her arms touched the back and sides of his own as he sat leaned down with his arms on his knees. More smoothness against the vile marks on his body. Her arms came up them and around his neck to hold him in a gentle embrace. She had to be seeing his hands shaking, not to mention the occasional tremble in his body. That ice was still melting with each new sensation of comfort as it washed over him, and as the ice left what was left underneath seemed broken into shards. Memories assaulted him as he relived the first weeks or maybe just the first days of his captivity. The days that had been the worst. Before he had resigned to the pain...before something in him had broken...

“It feels good to be clean doesn't it?” She asked softly, leaning her head against his. The weight of her muscled form felt light compared to anything he had carried in the camp. It was comfortable even. An anchor that made this place feel a little more solid. His vision blurred and he tried to convince himself it was just the heat, but his hands were shaking and his breathing was hard.

“Yeah.” He said. His voice sounded a little husky. It was hard not to think of her body against him, but he was still shaking and there was a dam breaking inside. He was trying to hold it back, but now that he was clean and in the presence of such a lovely person he couldn't hold on.

“It feels good to have someone take care of you a little sometimes too.” She said just as softly, and idly, as she laid her head against his back after looking up to find his fingers with her own.

“Yeah.” He agreed again. His voice wasn't much better this time and there were more emotions boiling up inside of him other than lust. He felt the tears running down his face running through the steam and hot water.

One of her hands came free and touched the many scars across his back and the backs of his arms. She stayed that way against him for a long time just feeling his scars and touching his back, his sides, his ribs that likely showed through against his loose skin.

“You saved a lot of them.” she whispered to him.

Memories came and made him go stiff again. He remembered the whips used against him; The flail tipped with bits of iron, the orc shaman's beating rod.

“You took punishments for them?” She asked softly.

“Yeah.” He croaked back in answer.

“They said you made the shaman leader see how they could be more useful kept alive. --Used as a more permanent work force if you all were fed better and allowed shelter from the elements.”

“Some of them just wanted to die.” He mumbled.

“But they lived.” Vivian said with gentle insistence. She kissed his neck softly and wrapped both her arms around him again. He felt her legs move as she needed to gain the height to do so. Each touch sent sparks through him regardless of his emotional state. “They're alive now, and in better places, because you helped them survive there.”

His arms began to shake and tremble more violently and there was nothing he could do to stop them from it. A tiny part of him wanted to remain strong at least in appearance for her, but it was pressed aside easily by the flood of pain and hurt she was wringing out of him with her gentle hands. “It was hell.”

“A hell you helped them live through.” She replied instantly, her voice soft, but firm.

He couldn't fight them back any longer and soft sobs escaped from his lips.

“We've never saved so many from a single camp.” She said to him, her soft whisper loud and clear close to his ear.

She leaned her head against the back of his own bowed low as it was and held him tight. Her silky hair spilled down mixing with his own long and freshly cleaned rough hair.

“And you saved me too right there in the end. You almost died from that blow to the head you took for me.” She went on. One of her hands reached up to touch his face and wipe his cheeks of tears. Endless work. Beatings. Being whipped for not working fast enough. The screams of the women taken just out of sight by an orc, or the screams of those given over to the goblins, children working, dying of thirst, hunger, exposure or exhaustion. How had he kept on? How had he suffered it all and still remained sane? It was all so blurry still. How had he had the spirit left to raise against them at all? It began to pour out of him. Sobbing and shaking he cried openly with Vivian making soothing sounds and running her gentle hands over him.

“I'm really glad you made it out of there.” She whispered in his ear. “I'm really glad you didn't give up. I'm really glad you found the courage to come to my aid, and I'm really glad you survived the blow, and the shock of healing. I'm glad and proud of you wherever you came from. I'm glad you were here for all those people who survived, and I'm very happy that you saved me too.” She said that last with a little laugh. Her words calmed him a little and made the hurt and fear he felt inside fade as she continued to wash him with warm water. She stayed close to him in the humid air of the bath until he managed to calm down.

“If you're okay now would you be willing to help wash my hair?” She asked. She kissed his neck again from behind him and had her arms around his chest now as he slowly managed to sit himself straighter.

“Yeah.” He said in an even more husky voice than before.

They switched places and he did his best to wash her long hair thoroughly and gently. She laughed when he hesitated while washing the soap from her hair and body and soon had her guiding his hands over her supple curves, down across her breasts, and over her legs. She was adamant that one washing with whatever hair soap they had here just wasn't enough and made him wash her hair a second time. This time as he used the bucket and ladle to wash the soap from her his hands did not hesitate to go where the bubbles needed washing away. She smiled and leaned back against him as he kneeled on the tiles behind her. Her eyes watched him, those large green gems burning like a furnace inside and this time she did not look away or blush more than the heat of the bath would show.

Just as he was finishing the second wash and she was completely free of the soap once more she turned on the stool and pressed her lips into his. It really did take him by surprise, at least he didn’t jump, but he gave back into the kiss as much as he knew how after the brief shocked moment it took him to recover. She pressed against him lovingly and her arms were like a vice around his neck, soft and firm. The embrace was too nice, too soft, and too much what he needed right then to even think of how he had just met the woman. It made his heart beat in a way that told him he was very much alive. He had survived.

She opened her eyes after the kiss and smiled at him as she did that small movement with her tongue in her mouth again very playfully this time. She was also beat red, but there was a hungry light in her eyes that washed over whatever embarrassment was there.

“I thought so.” She said. “It would be better without this.” She said touching the roughly trimmed growths of hair on his chin and upper lip. It almost made him laugh, but she seemed satisfied with the smile. He felt that little trip, the little latch in his mind flip, at that moment and knew regardless of what he thought otherwise this woman had charmed him. With that kiss the last of his reservations, the vague reasons not to take up the other signs she had been giving vanished. He didn't know what to make of it yet, he wasn't a teenager to just fall head over heels for a pretty girl, but Vivian certainly had him falling a certain sort of way and he couldn't have said he didn't like where it seemed he might land when the ground finally came up. It was still hard to believe, but it was one of those little undeniable things. It showed in her smile, and in the bright humor that twinkled in her eyes. For whatever reason she liked him. That much at least was certain.

After that she got another bucket of warm water and brought him over to the table with the mirror. She was truly startled when he refused any knowledge of the straight razor that had been with the brushes and other things there, but then before long she was guiding his hand as she led the way for him on one of the many skills he would need here.

Up in Vivian's room both freshly dried and hair brushed to a sheen, Vivian had out a small tin of an ointment similar to one of kind they had bought at the store. She took a sharp smelling dab of it and was smearing it gently into the cut on Micheal's cheek where the razor had bitten him as he sat on her bed. He had on what was one of the Inn's winter bathrobes. A soft green woolen thing that was thick and warm in the summer heat, but it was the only one that fit over his frame and was long enough to cover him decently. Vivian wore one of the short and thin linen ones meant for the summer heat. Their clothing was being laundered by one of the serving maids in the kitchen. Well maybe Vivian's clothes were. Micheal wasn't sure if what he had been wearing would survive the large mangle he had seen the woman working as they made their way past into the back stairway to return to their rooms clad only in their robes to avoid the common room.

The ointment burned like an old fashioned remedy at least. It bit and stung at the cut.

“I mean your dexterity is low compared to your other attributes, but this is a little silly. A scrape I would believe, but you actually managed to cut yourself. All that blood totally ruined the moment you know.” She said as she took another dab of the stuff and rubbed it into his cheek.

He sighed and tried to take her ministrations with grace.

“We have yet to work out how we're going to be sleeping tonight. It will be a little tight for the two of us in this bed.” He said instead.

She paused and looked at him with her finger still raised and dark green with ointment.

“I thought we could just tire each other out and it would be fine. Who needs room after that right? --All sweaty and stuck together?” She said with a seemingly innocent smile that was only spoiled by the redness in her face which only seemed to be getting worse.

“We just bathed.” Was all he could say.

She frowned at him.

“So you don't want to?”

“I didn't say that.” He said carefully, swallowing a nervous lump in his throat. “It's just we just got clean.”

“Isn't that the best time?” She replied applying a little more to the cut on his cheek before wiping the rest off on a wash towel. “It's been years for me, but I remember liking being clean beforehand. Makes everything go a little more smoother if there's no unpleasant scents.”

Micheal blinked.

“How old are you anyway Vivian?” He asked reaching for anything but directly talking about sex with a woman he just met. “I have no idea how long elves live. Is it longer than humans?”

She looked at him with a flat stare. It was then that he remembered that his time was much different with things like a woman's age; he felt-or maybe heard- the little men in his head collectively facepalm. Sure some people did consider it rude when he grew up, and some other areas, but most women he had met were fairly open about now that he was in his late twenties.

“So if I said I was eighty? Or maybe a thousand? What would you think? Afraid to be with a woman older than you?” She said with a haughty raised eyebrow and cool eyes. “And I'm not just an 'elf'. That's rude, but you probably don't know. You called yourself Human too so I don't think wherever you came from has the context you would need for that.”

“What do I call what you are then? Or myself for that matter?” he asked with a slight smile on his face. He felt the bubbly edges of nervousness, but couldn't ignore the bright smile Vivian still wore.

She looked at him quizzically, but then sighed. “You should call yourself a Ruldajan if someone asks. They might not believe you, but there's a few mountain tribes in the passes that grow men almost your size.” She sat on his lap then and flung her legs onto the bed beside him with her arms around his neck. “I am one of many races of Fae Born.” She said carefully. She paused and seemed to be waiting for some sort of reaction from him, but other than cataloging that as another thing that had been formed of his ideas in his writing he had none. “We're species of other worlds that overtime adapted to life here and gained body structures much more similar to that of you humans than what we were originally. No one really knows what we started as at first, but our tribes and clans pass down records of our beginnings as something not of this world. Maybe like you, but on a larger scale. Whole nations of people coming into this world from outside and becoming part of it. Any of those races, collectively or not, are called Fae Born, even me technically. While rude it is somewhat accurate to call me an Elf as I have pointed ears and other features associated with most Elves, but it's better to say I am a High Elf if you must say it. Even better is to say I am a High Elf of the Forest and Winds.” She booped his nose with her finger before she went on. With her sitting in his lap so possessively it was hard not to take notice of her every little movement, but he did try to listen.

“A High Elf is any elf who can speak and be negotiated with and is generally civilized. To call me just 'Elf' is to say that I lack civility, manners, and any sort of honor. Not to mention relation to those horrid feral creatures of that name.”

“No shame though?” He asked, unable to resist a small jab at her as she was currently draping herself over him. He was getting hot with her over the robe like this.

She gave him a flat look and pulled the belt of her robe free playfully for emphasis.

It made him laugh, but he took initiative on the invitation to pull her close and kiss her with his heart pounding and uncertainty flooding his mind as his body almost moved on its own. Feeling her skin against his own after shaving really did improve the kiss he thought.

She squirmed a bit at the sudden movement, but was quickly kissing him back leaning into him and running her hands up his neck and into his robe.

He pulled away after a good few moments, but had to have his robe off. The room in the upper floor of the Inn was rather warm in the summer. Night air was blowing in the open window, but the breeze was intermittent. He was boiling in this thing. He set Vivian aside from him for a moment, somewhat surprised at how easy that was.

He got his robe off and was surprised again as Vivian snaked her arms around his neck, her face beat red, but with her green eyes smoldering. She kissed him, her tongue caressing his own, her strong willowy limbs gliding over him, her hands tight against his flesh sending ripples of heat and fire down his body. Micheal lost his thoughts of anything else, of the room entirely except for the bed where with a little strength he managed to put her down on her back.

He kissed her neck, lifting her legs and running his hands down her sides once he had her pinned, but at the same time she was fighting to kiss the life out of him. They were both very and suddenly lost in lust. For too long had Micheal suffered and seen horrible things, his mind banished all thought or motivation embracing every sensation of Vivian's eager flesh and embroiling his whole awareness in taking, in tasting, touching, and memorizing every shape and curve of her lithe muscled body. Vivian gasped and clung to him as he fought against her own movements to position herself properly under him. Instead he took the time to kiss and touch every part of her body even as she seemed to urge him up for the main event.

There was something wild in her, in her eyes, and it showed in the way her hair spread out over the bed in a fan of fire. Something deep in her nature pressed her to be this way, it was a powerful burning drive deep in her eyes now, but she wasn't afraid. Thought or shame of any kind was gone and the two of them simply fell into each other in the moment. She drew him up practically growling through soft ragged breaths as he kissed up the length of her body and over her breasts before she firmly pulled herself into line with his own hips and drew his mouth down to hers. Her hands twisted up in his hair and her legs clung to the backs of his thighs as they touched first gently and then with renewed effort. Micheal's mind was a blank void of nothing but the sensations of Vivian's body, her tongue on his own, his hands running down her back and to her hips drawing her up slightly as she ground her hips against his own.

She gasped making a low sound in his mouth as he finally managed to press into the warm folds of her body. It was like silk and fire coming to meet him, wet as the touch of their tongues between their mouths and it consumed him. All the hate and vileness he had felt, all the pain, all of it vanished for at least a little while as the strongest call of life took over his mind in almost pained desperation. He didn't know her, but there was nothing to hide from this woman who had seen where he had been, lifted him up, cleaned him, and brought him here. Though he was still slightly weak the love making brought out his hidden strength gained from endless torturous hours of work in the camp and he poured every ounce of his being into bring out more sighs and soft moans from the lovely woman who had taken him in.

She dug her fingers into his back, her eyes filling with tears at some point during their pairing, but she was always smiling or at least on the edge of the same sort of desperate joy he felt himself. Her eyes filled with deep longing and a bone deep satisfaction as he held her close and finished within her time and time again until he could not so much as move or writhe against her any longer. She lovingly held him all the while, as he panted, and when he fell to the bed next to her, and when they laid down in each other's arms. He didn't know why, or what else she wanted from him, but those thoughts had been lost early in their coupling. He laid there and knew his thoughts were reflected in her own as he stared into the warm deep pools of emerald that were her eyes. They were both alive. Their hearts racing in their chest, their blood running hot in their veins, and the touch of one another was undeniably real and warm against the cool edges of death that lingered in memory.

She laughed softly then and she drew her arms tight around him as he leaned his head close to her lips, his forehead almost to her mouth. He closed his eyes too tired to do more than give into sleep after pouring everything that was left in him into satisfying her needs. He felt her draw him in, her body seeming to overflow with strength, and providing him and his endangered mind with much needed comfort. Even then he knew it. Most of his mind was drawn away for the moment lost in the pale golden feeling of the afterglow, but she had provided him with bliss and distraction enough to begin a little healing. A much needed first step and foundation to rebuilding what and who he was.