Daughter of Treason Ch. 05

The knocks continued and, by the time she was pulling on her dress, she was out of patience. "Hold your damn horses, I'm coming!" Unfortunately, while this gave the visitor pause, it also woke up Miranda who cringed, looked around in confusion, then at Kei in, apparently, relief. Kei, for her part, was in no mood to deal with any of that 'Yes, Mistress. No, Mistress.' Nonsense, and saw an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. "Miranda, go see who it is." She paused. "If they try to force their way in, scream."

The taller woman nodded, clambered up and zoomed downstairs. Kei hadn't even gotten halfway into the dress, thanks to the ginger movements her hurt body necessitated, when the blonde returned, saying quietly, "He says his name is Gerome, Mistress."

Kei breathed a sigh of relief. At least she wasn't going to have to fight anyone half-naked. Or put on boots. "Excellent. Show him in, please."

Miranda darted off again, leaving Kei to finish getting dressed. Shino was already reclining on the bed, hands under his head, watching her with a lazy smile on his face. "What?" she asked.

His grin widened. "Nothin'. Just enjoying the view."

She scoffed, shaking her head, but as she turned away, the corners of her mouth turned up in a grin of her own.

She finished dressing and headed downstairs, though not before she paused to grab the rapier belt, just in case. She heard voices on the ground floor and, on impulse, trod lightly as she descended, so as not to disturb it. "...have you been here?" Gerome was rumbling.

"My Mistress took me from my old master last night." Came Miranda's demure reply.

"Took?" Gerome's voice was uncertain. "Like, as a slave?"

"Yes. My old master was not kind, and beat us regularly, but my Mistress has not even hit me yet." A thoughtful pause. "Except once at the beginning, but I did not listen, and so needed to be hit."

Kei's stomach lurched, and from his tone, Gerome felt the same. "She... bought you, and then hit you?"

"No." responded Miranda airily, and as she continued, a note of pride crept into her voice. "My old master was powerful, but my Mistress is beautiful and strong, and he was no match for-"

"That's quite enough of that," interrupted Kei, taking the last few steps at a run, wincing, and clutching her side only after she came into view. Miranda went from proud to submissive in roughly half a second, and Gerome just stared at the dark-haired woman, who in turn was suddenly regretting her decision to clutch the sword belt in her right hand.

She ambled over to the chair which Miranda had awkwardly seated herself next to. Does she ever use furniture? Kei found herself wondering, but said nothing. Instead, she seated herself in the chair and leaned the rapier against in an attempt to appear at least marginally less dangerous.

What effect might have been lost by discarding the sword was made up for five times over by her presence; her stern countenance, her regal bearing, complete with bowing servant on her right, and, most of all, the unspoken and utterly unchallenged assumption that everyone would do exactly what she wanted all contributed to her general air of 'Don't fuck with me.'

Kei, for her part, was unaware of this; she assumed that Gerome was looking at her like an avenging god because of Miranda's slip, rather than her own, if not overtly hostile, at least unfriendly bearing. "Welcome." The utter lack of sincerity was apparent in her tone. Trying again for pleasantries she didn't have to lie through her teeth for, she asked, "What brings you here?"

Seeing the tall, dark-skinned man stutter made her smile; here was someone two heads taller than her, decked out in armor to her simple dress, and he was stammering like a schoolboy. "I, uh, I said I would, uh, come back and check on your friend, uh, and, uh, I didn't know you kept slaves."

The last part came out in a jumble. "Generally speaking, I don't." She tried reminder herself that he was only here to help, and that both she and Shino could use any healing he could provide, but her words were arched regardless. It probably didn't help matters that he would probably ruin the moment she had been trying to preserve. Pushing the disappointment out of her mind, she pressed on, "You said yesterday that you might have some extra spells left. Is that the case?"

"Uh, yes." He seemed off-balance, but not entirely displeased with the change of subject. "I actually managed to save several spells; I wasn't sure how much better or worse he'd be, so I thought I'd swing by here first."

She nodded. "We're grateful. Are you prepared to heal him now?"

Gerome nodded. "Sure, lead on."

Kei brought him upstairs, Miranda staying behind, and entered the bedroom to find Shino gloriously nude on the bed. "You might," she said to him with an amused smile, "want to cover up; we have company."

Shino scrambled to get himself under the covers as Gerome stepped into the room. "Hey, boyo. How're you feeling?"

"Uh, good." He was blushing and it took some verbal prodding to get him to admit that his belly still was pretty tender.

"Let me see." Gerome conducted a quick but thorough examination of the embarrassed elf before announcing, "Impressive. You're mostly healed; it looks like there's just some muscles to knit, which shouldn't take much. Let me just give you a few cure minor spells, and we'll see if we can't get you good to go."

The process went quickly, with Gerome casting for a few seconds and leading Shino through a series of stretches, asking what hurt, then repeating. She noted that, when casting, he seemed to simply be uttering a brief prayer to the Wild One in draconic. Is magic so easy? She wondered, and resolved to ask him about it. The ability to heal could be invaluable.

It took six of Gerome's Cure Minor Wounds spells to get Shino up to something close to functional, but he had reservations about going farther. "I don't want to use a light spell on him if he doesn't need it when there are folks back at the temple who do." His explanation was apologetic, but firm.

"And you cannot cast more minor spells?"

Gerome shook his head. "I'm drained for that circle."

She nodded. It was a long time ago, but her tutor had once explained to her that magic was divided into ten concentric circles of power, the innermost of which contained the weakest spells like Cure Minor Wounds and Dancing Lights in the center, and more powerful spells in the outer rings. She remembered something about a principle which forbade more powerful spells from being divided into several less powerful ones. Principa non Descendere Potendi, it was called, but the finer details eluded her, so she declined to press the point. Instead, she came at it from a different angle. "Do you have anyone you can call on to finish your work? I'd rather avoid living him half-healed."

"I'm fine," interjected Shino. At Kei's disapproving glance, he amended, "I mean, I won't be running any marathons for a few days, but really, I feel fine. But what about you? You can't have healed that quickly."

Gerome fixed a concerned gaze on her. "You're hurt?"

"It's nothing," she dismissed automatically. It was less that she didn't want healing, and more that she had, in her time in Islandport, developed a justifiable aversion to showing weakness, particularly around men.

It was, therefore, a relief when Shino scoffed. "Yeah, right. Now that I'm intimately familiar with stab wounds," the grin he gave was hollow; his joke covered a newfound aversion to the pointy ends of objects, "I know a deep cut when I see it, and the ones I saw last night weren't cat scratches."

Her annoyance at being caught in a bluff was drowned out by her relief at getting back to 100% sooner. Her usual discomfort with magic was lessened; while the wizard's spell were all chanting formulae in halting draconic, this kind was clear and earnest in its presentation. A payer for healing could not be easily mistaken for a curse or a domination spell. Of course, this relaxed air lasted until Gerome asked, "May I see the wound?"

She blanched. Showing him her arm would be easy enough, just a matter of rolling up her sleeve and removing the crude bandage she had fashioned, but her side was inconveniently placed between her butt and her breasts, and the dress was all one piece. "It'll help me know how much you need," he was saying.

"Yes, um," she stalled, trying to think of an excuse, and when none came asked simply, "May I have a minute?"

His eyes widened in a way she wasn't sure she liked, but all he said was, "Sure."

Gerome left the room and closed the door, and Shino, noticing her discomfort, asked immediately, "What's wrong?"

"I, uh, I'm trying to figure out how to show him my side without displaying, ah, more skin than necessary."

"Oh." Shino blinked, then his eyes widened. "Oooh. Well, ah, what about the bandages? You could wrap most of your body, but leave your side exposed, right?"

She thought he was, perhaps, a bit too happy about this. "How much bandage do you think I have?"

"Well, you could only wrap the important bits..."

"I might as well stand in my underwear," she groused, but couldn't see any alternative. Ultimately, she opted to sit on the bed, let the top of the dress pool at her waist, and drafted Shino into helping her wrap her chest. She had grown used to doing it herself, but not while one arm didn't want to move and her side refused to let her twist her torso, so she needed and hand. And, admittedly, having Shino in such close contact was hardly a chore. If the occasional grope was any indication, Shino thought the same.

"You're feeling grabby today."

"Sorry, I can't help it." He announced with a cheery lack of remorse. "I'm feeling perky today." He paused. "Should I stop?"

"Mm, soon, but not yet."

He continued wrapping, and as the bandage began to run low, he spent more time resting his chin on her shoulder, massaging her breasts. Finally, the bandages were tied, and they had no more excuse to stall further. Reluctantly, she called to Gerome, "I am ready, now."

The wrap was, while as good as could be hoped for under the circumstance, less than modest; her belly was exposed, which while necessary for exposing the cut on her side, brought to her mind an image of a belly dancer. This notion was only enhanced by the notable amount of cleavage shown. The wrap was looser than usual as its purpose was to cover, not restrain, and consequently left the tops of her breasts exposed, and if Shino was any indicator, the valley between them demanded a substantial amount of attention.

She sighed. There was nothing to be done. And, as Gerome entered, he at least made a concerted effort to keep his gaze at eye-level. The widening of his eyes, motions jerky from excitement, and focused facial expression all made her very, very nervous; this level of attention had been paid to her before, and rarely with good intent. Mercifully, all the warning signs dropped off abruptly when he got to her side. "Oh gods. You've just been carrying this?"

All traces of personal interest were gone, replaced by an appalled professionalism. Kei nodded, still shaken from his less-than-detached interest previously. Gerome's response was to shake his head. "I've seen men bedridden by lesser injuries! This one is deep." She winced as he prodded, testing and examining the wound thoroughly before leaning back and saying, "Normally, I'd start you off with a minor spell, just to get an idea of how much you actually need, but..." He shrugged. "The light spells have some variation on them, so you might need another. You ready?"

She nodded, then noted with a flash of nerves that he had some unfamiliar hand motions accompanying his prayer. Had she been on guard, she might have flinched away from the unknown, but before she could even finish the thought, he completed the spell and planted on hand firmly on her side, and she felt the energy rush through her. It felt like hot coco on a cold, rainy day, waves of warmth and comfort which swept through her in an instant, stopping at her side and arm. Her eyes glazed over, and though the spell had finished, she tried to recapture the feeling.

"Huh." said Gerome, drawing Kei back to reality. "Have you had much healing before?" he asked.

She shook her head, mostly to order her thoughts, though as her wits came back to her she adapted it to function as an answer. "No. Why?"

"Well, you seem to be moderately resistant to magic. Usually we see it in folks with a naturally hardy constitution, but folks with a rougher lifestyle, warriors and the like..." He trailed off, glancing at the daggers perched atop her black night clothes. "How did you say you got hurt again?"

A long pause. "I didn't."

It was not, perhaps, the best way to deflect his curiosity, but her knee-jerk reaction was to lie, which wouldn't have been bad but for the fact that the best explanation she could think of was 'cut myself while preparing a roast', which held about as much water as a basket. Therefore, rather than giving an obvious lie, she opted for the more blunt 'mind your own business' method.

For his part, Gerome took it well. "Okay... um, as I was saying, folks with more, uh, violent lifestyles who have to receive lots of healing tend to grow resistant to cure spells. I mean, as time goes on, it takes more and more powerful cure spells just to get them back up to running. Which means," he said, glancing meaningfully at the daggers, "it's better to give up such a life sooner rather than later, so you'll be able to get help if you really need it." His preaching was subtle, as far as preaching goes, but she was growing impatient. She drummed her fingers on her thigh. He noticed. "Uh, anyway, one way or another, I'll have to give you another spell. Ready?"

Ultimately, it took another light spell to close the wound, and another two before she could comfortably move around. There was still tenderness, but compared to the restrictions the pain had produced, it was total freedom, and even that slight stiffness, Gerome assured her, would be gone in a day or two.

Other than that, he marveled again at her apparent resistance to cures, and then started trying to show her the error of her ways again. "You know, there are good ways to make a living, here. Temple acolyteships, artisan apprenticeships, servant positions, and those are just to start."

"Hm."

She intended the noncommittal noise as a message to stop trying to turn her from a nonexistent path of wickedness, but he instead took it as encouragement. "Yeah, you get paid as you work for the first year or so, then you can open your own shop, all without ever having to face the business end of a knife!"

"Hm." This vocalization definitely held an irritated undertone to it, which Shino caught on to.

"Hey, uh, I think you might have the wrong idea about what she does-"

Gerome interrupted with a wave of his hand. "I'm sure I do, but whatever it is, there's got to be an easier way to make a living-"

"I appreciate the help you've given us, but you understand neither what it is that I do, nor my impetus for doing it. I am set in my course, and I sincerely doubt your words will sway me, so let us allow the subject to drop."

The silence which followed was palpable. Gerome appeared shocked, and Shino was markedly uncomfortable. Eventually, the dark-skinned man spoke, "I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."

"You did not," she lied, but her tone kept its edge, "but you don't have the facts."

"And you won't explain them to me."

His deep voice may have seemed more menacing if there hadn't been a touch of petulance in it. "No," she responded, "No, I'm afraid I won't."

"Then how am I supposed to believe that you're anything but a thug?"

Kei bristled, and Shino managed to choke on some spit and go into a coughing fit. Gerome couldn't help but to see her expression darken, and tried to backpedal, "Uh, maybe I got ahead of myself there-"

"Yes, I should say you did! I am obligated to thank you for your assistance, so thank you. Now, if you've nothing left to discuss, I imagine you have better things to do than attack my private actions. Miranda!" Within moments, the blonde was at the door, and for once Kei was pleased with her proximity. "Escort Gerome outside."

The taller woman bowed deeply to Kei, then turned to Gerome and began leading him out by the elbow. He paused, as if to say something, but between Kei's glower and Miranda's distinctly disapproving gaze, the atmosphere was so unwelcoming that he merely bowed his head and allowed himself to be towed away. Just outside, he muttered, "I didn't mean to offend-"

"You called my Mistress a thug." Even as they descended the stairs, Miranda's response was crystal clear and filled with distain. "I have not been here long, and even I know that she is a lady."

Silently, Kei admitted that Miranda was well on her way into the shorter woman's good graces. Suspicious as she might be of flattery, she was not immune, and being assigned the label of 'lady', combined with the apparently steadfast defense of her character against a common foe did not leave her unmoved. When the blonde returned to report that Gerome was gone, Kei favored her with a smile and a heartfelt "Thank you, Miranda. That will be all."

As the blonde bowed deeply, all but glowing from even that implicit praise, Shino looked conflicted. When the servant had left, she sighed and said, "Out with it."

"Wha-?"

"You want to say something, I can tell. You object to my conduct?"

"Huh? No. I mean, yeah, it would've been nice to keep him buttered up, but I can understand that he wasn't making it easy for you." She could tell by his tone that, despite this comprehension, he did object, but didn't press the point. "It's more that... Well, before I had forgotten the Craftsman's Challenge, on account of being hurt and broke, but now..."

Kei resisted the urge to massage her temples. "Right."

"I mean, I suppose I could afford to wait another few minutes-"

By his tone and body language, this was an appeasement, and not his first choice. "No," she said with a sigh, "You're already a day behind, and I won't exacerbate the problem. Go start working."

The relief showed on his face, and he excused himself to fire the forge with a heartfelt, "Thank you."

Kei remained, dress around her waist and bandages around her chest, wondering what to do now. After a few moments, she stood, stretched experimentally a few times, slipped the rest of the dress on, and went downstairs.

Shino was busy gathering wood, and she had to all but grab him by the elbow to get his attention. "Oh, hey" he said as if coming out of a daze. "What's up?"

"Last night you commented that we had more ademantium than you needed."

He blinked, trying to catch up with her direct approach. "Uh... yeah?"

"I want some."

"Oh." He paused, his brain kicking into gear. "Sure." Another pause. "Why?"

"If you have a surplus, I think we might want to sell some of it off; there are a few more things we could use, and having liquid funds never hurts."

"Sure, take as much as you want; you got it, after all. Just... uh, leave some for me, will ya?"

"She nodded. "Certainly. How much do you need?"

"Uh... five ingots?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you making an ornamental hammer or a maul?"

"Heh." He rubbed his head sheepishly. "It never hurts to have extra, you know?"

She stared at him. "You're planning something."

He frowned. "It's that obvious?"

"Yes."

His frown deepened, then disappeared with a shrug. "Well, I was hoping to make it a surprise, but I guess the cat's out of the bag n-"

"Surprise?" her tone, previously dark from catching the elf in a lie, lightened to mere confusion. "What do you mean?"