It's always a little fun as a writer to take two characters who have little in common at first glance and toss them into a closed place. Without their lives to get in the way, a sort of human magic might appear and things can happen that would normally never be possible. You can doubt if you wish, but as an example, there was a huge power outage across the Eastern half of North America around 1966. Millions of people found themselves in the dark for maybe 12 hours or so, some of them in situations of close proximity such as stuck elevators.
Nine months later, there was a tiny baby boom. Go figure.
Anyway, we continue here with our unlikely pair. I can see maybe another three or four chapters coming from this and I hope that they're enjoyed.
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As they sat eating an odd dinner in the strange situation, the priestess listened as the fighter outlined what he had to do, when it had to be done, and the resources that could be used to accomplish it. He mentioned the possibility of acquiring the servants as assistants, and then he told her of the stipend that he'd been given to run both his household and the school. All of this had to be planned so that he could tell of what he would do and what he'd have ready for the first of the small groups of fighters that he'd have to teach. He had to be ready to explain this in two days.
The priestess listened as she ate carefully, not wishing to be sick from eating too much at one sitting after having gone without for a time as she had. After she was finished eating for the moment, he watched as her fingers began to move in what appeared to be patterns, slowly at first, but getting quicker as they talked. Finally, he asked about it.
"I am praying," she shrugged slightly. "This is the reason that they bound my hands apart from each other and my fingers together partly. I am praying as I listen and think of what I might do to help you." She held up her hands separately and he watched her fingers. "It has been months since I could do this and now it is hard to do, but I draw comfort, ability and strength from this." She stopped her motions and went back to the problem at hand.
She decided on the split in the money between the school and the other expenses and told him that she would hold an amount aside. When he looked at her with raised eyebrows, she told him that it was to purchase the servants. "Please," she said, "allow me to do the bargaining for them while you stand present. I am sure that I can get them and still leave you some of this."
He agreed, and then the priestess leaned forward to stand and she saw her chance. In the blink of an eye, she seized his dagger, turning it to point at herself and clasping her hands on the haft of it.
The warrior sprang up and clamped his hand over hers and a part of the cross guard. Before she could realize that he wouldn't allow her to pull it toward herself, he also placed his other hand on her breastbone to prevent her from pulling herself to the dagger. She then tried to get it higher so that she might cut into the artery on the side of her neck. He wouldn't allow that either.
She glared at him as his words hissed at her through his teeth, "Do you not wonder how I know of you? Will you not hear the words that I have for you? And the old woman," he growled, "what of her? You miss something important here."
She looked down and cried out because he'd cut his fingers on the blade trying to keep her from killing herself again. She instantly gave up the attempt. He stepped back with the dagger and laid it down on the table. "Hear me out, priestess, and then if this is still so disheartening to you that you feel that you must die, I will accept my failure and allow it."
He pointed at her with his uninjured hand, feeling more than a little frustrated now, "But YOU must hear me out first!"
She stood sobbing as she looked at the cuts. She took his hand in one of hers and passed the other one over it. The wound and the pain were gone, the blood vanished from where it had fallen on the table, the dagger lay on the table, clean. To his amazement, she kissed his hand.
"Forgive me," she whispered, "In my haste, I have done something terrible."
She looked up sadly, "I owe you much already, fighter. I have made it only worse for me with this here." Her head hung again and she wanted to weep, "I have removed my own escape myself, by hurting the one who is kind to me."
They stood like this for a moment. "Your hand feels very warm," she whispered, liking the feel of it against her chest.
He took the hint and apologized, but she stopped him and told him that she didn't mind. "I am so sorry that I hurt you."
He shook his head, "I am only sorry that you hang your head again, for that is worse to me. Cuts are nothing new. There is nothing that I feel slight over and you have even healed it," he said softly.
"I can even understand you. Only please allow me to tell you what I must." He looked toward the terrace. "It grows cool now. I will light the fire and close the shutters up. Please wait for this, and I will tell you everything that I know."
He looked over at the sound which came to him and was startled as the hearth glowed with a healthy fire in an instant. When he looked past her, he saw that the shutters were closed. She shrugged. "I can do some things for us and save you the effort."
He reached out slowly to touch her face, "Wait but a moment here, if you would. I have words that are for you alone, and I have things which you may need soon. Can you do this, or must I take the dagger along too?"
She sat down again. "I have no escape anymore because of what I have done to you. I have lost my chance to pass the power on. I am a fool."
"No," he said, "you are only too earnest and far too quick."
"Perhaps," she said sadly, "but it is our way that kindness must never be answered with hurt. To do that only causes an obligation." She looked up at him, "You do not know of this, but it makes no difference to me for it is done. I am a slave to you by the will of your lord. You would have none of it between us, you said. But for what I have done here in my thoughtlessness and haste, I have chained myself to you more firmly than I was before."
"As you wish," he said, not wanting to argue over a subtlety that made no difference to him, "though I do not consider it in this way. To me, it was a mishap, nothing more. But if this means that I might trust you with your own life for a little while, then I welcome it. Please wait," he said turning away, but then turned back a little, "and please be alive when I return. I need only a moment."
She nodded, still feeling foolish.
He walked away and came back a moment later, handing her one of his singlets. The priestess smiled softly and pulled it over her head. Just as he'd told her, it almost slipped over her shoulders to fall off, but he caught the open part of the neck and began to lace it so that it might at least stay on her. He looked at her and they smiled at each other as she brought her arms out through the holes were his were meant to be.
"Even this cannot hide your beauty," he said with a little admiration.
Her reply was a shrug and a grin, "I feel like a stick-girl inside a scarecrow, but I thank you all the same."