Rain poured through the tendrils of moss hanging off of trees. Shining drops tangled into Constance's hair, making inky black curls stick to her pale skin. She stood panting under a tree, watching the distance as best she could through the thick boles of the forest. Rowan watched her dark eyes scanning the distance, the frown creasing her handsome face. He couldn't hear anything other than the patter of rain and his own harsh breathing. "I think we've lost them." Her voice was husky and he thought that she must be tired. So much had happened to her, and this day had not been any easier.
"We can't stay in this rain all night, m'lady." He stood and took her elbow; she looked unsteady on her feet. "There is a hunter's burrow close by that I know of..." She frowned at him for a long moment but only nodded and followed him as he began weaving his way along the forest path.
So few words passed between them, still he had a sense of her that he couldn't shake. She was strong and courageous and fought more valiantly than most men, but something made him see her as a woman that was passionate and lonely. The men around her never spoke of her as a woman, even when they called her a Lady it was just a title. It seemed impossible when she stood in contrast to her sisters and mother, all so delicate and soft spoken. The train of thought he was on would only lead to trouble he figured and quickly turned his attention to watching the forest for danger.
It wasn't long before both were stumbling over roots and grunting with effort. The forest steadily climbed the lower edge of the Crone's Cradle, though it wasn't a steep climb the extra effort was starting to wear on them. "I thought you said this place was close." He glanced back to see her holding her ribs, her other hand bracing her against a tree. He walked over and braced her arm around his shoulder.
"It is. Stop being childish." He said, forcing her into motion, the look on her face was worth whatever punishment she could come up with later. She barely leaned on his shoulder but seemed to move more quickly now that he had admonished her. It took them until a little after sundown to reach the burrow. It was a small structure, well hidden in the moss and tangle of brush. He let go of her and kicked away a fallen log and lifted the trap door that led into the dark, but dry burrow. "Come here, let me help you down." He reached for her but was only offered a bundle of heavy trappings, including her quiver, bow, and sword.
"Hold these." She grunted and made her way down the rickety ladder. He followed behind her and it closed the door, blotting out the square of light that had lit the interior. He heard her sigh and shuffle around.
"Sit still. I'll light a lamp." He dumped their things on the floor and moved forward. He moved around the dark hole trying to feel his way toward the table where he knew the lamp would be. His hands felt out word and caught on wet fabric. He stopped and moved his hands quickly. "S-sorry." He mumbled, feeling Constance side step quickly. There was a thunk and a soft oath and then something that felt like a lamp was shoved into his hands. "Oh I see you found it."
"So I have." She hissed and he could hear her patting her way around the table. "Hurry up and light the damned thing." When he finally managed to get it lit they both sat for a good while blinking as their sight adjusted. She stood before him her face drawn, hair hanging wildly around her shoulders in places where it had fallen from its bindings. She looked a mess and it made his lips tug up into a small smile. "Is there something you find amusing?" She asked him quietly. He could see her eyes droop tiredly and she collapsed into a chair.
"No." He walked over to the small stove in the corner and started piling it with kindling. "Don't get comfortable. You'll catch your death if you don't get dry." He said walking over and undoing her mantle.
She shooed his hands away and took the wolf hide mantle and cloak off. "Don't fuss." She mumbled and bent pulling her boots off. He didn't reply as his mind had gone blank seeing the way her shirt clung wetly to the line of her shoulders that at the moment looked delicate. He had a brief moment of curiosity at how the cloth would hug to other parts of her body before he caught the errant thought and forcibly locked it into the back of his mind. The process was made easier when he heard the Captain hiss another curse.
"Are you hurt?" He stepped forward and she held up a hand. The other was hugging her ribs again. "Your ribs are hurt. Here let me see..." He reached out but stopped short as she shot him a glare over her shoulder. "I won't think less of you simply because you are wounded." He assured her smiling.
"That really isn't the issue." She muttered as he turned her around and unfolded the arm that was protecting her middle. His hand pressed flat against her side and she sucked in breath.
"Is there pain here?" He asked quietly his eyes intent on his work. She shuddered and he tried to find a sign of trauma. "It feels fine."
"That because it isn't hurt there you idiot," she said. He looked up to see her pointedly looking at the wall. He frowned and looked down, his hand was still pressed to her side and he could feel the erratic thumping of her heart. Her skin was heated and when he looked back up he could see red across her cheeks.
"Do you have a fever?" He asked his hand moving to her cheek. She flinched away and narrowed her gaze at him. "If you hurt yourself it could have weakened your body and caused a fever. Let me look at your ribs." He put his hands at the bottom of her shirt and gave a tug. Her hands came down painfully on his.
"Have you forgotten?" She rasped her face darkening. He could see pain floating behind her dark, amber eyes. "I am the daughter of the Northman. Don't you think you are being a bit forward?" He blinked and his warm smile found his lips again.
