The Brush Tiger of Derven Ch. 21-23

Following them across the boardwalk, Lucas laughs. He places his hands on the door knobs to the tavern and smiles regretfully before opening the door, "I don't think you'll be able to."

The tavern doors swing wide open, revealing a bustling crowd. Dozens of people at tables, walking around and on stage stop moving when they see Rick. Collectively, they turn to him and bow. Flabbergasted, Rick leads Mora inside. They walk barely through the doors before the questions start.

"Is it true, Prince Varickan, are we going to war with Alumenia?"

"Will any of the other countries help us?"

"We need to train, will you help us your highness?"

Stunned, Rick lets go of Mora's hand. He slowly reaches up to touch his head, realizing the crown is still on it. He takes it off, holding it in his hands like it is a magical object he has never seen before. He turns his back to the crowd, coming close to Mora.

"I want you..." he whispers so only she can hear. His voice is full of wanton and regret.

She can't help but smile. She reaches out, her own hands stroking his before she takes his crown. "You have me."

She looks at the people waiting eagerly for his help; Sceadu once again has a Prince. Mora swiftly trots up the stairs, a sense of relief washes over her when she walks into Rick's bedroom. It has become like a second home to her and she feels comfortable there. She changes quickly, grabbing her gloves on the way out, in a hurry to get back to the excitement downstairs. By the time she rejoins her friends, everything is in full swing.

Lucas and Daniel are standing separately, each with clusters of townsfolk around them. Daniel shows an old man how to hold onto a spear, demonstrating where to put your feet before throwing. Lucas wraps a young boy's hand around a sword, showing him how to stand just like he showed Mora her first night in the tavern.

Rick gives her a small grin; he is up on stage directing a younger man on how to attack James, who waits patiently on the other side.

Near the door, Sari talks to the small handful of women who were brave enough to come into the tavern. All of the women look uneasy and rather small compared to her but they give her their undivided attention. Sari looks annoyed but dignified as if all of her hard work leading up to this day is finally acknowledged and justified.

Mora weaves her way among the crowd. As the tavern is almost full to the brim, she has to take a long indirect route to get to the bar, where Todd struggles to keep glasses full. He spots her and by the time she reaches him, he has a glass of wine waiting for her.

"Would you like something to eat, Mora?" he asks politely, though it is obvious that he is stressed.

She smiles, "Your cooking is wonderful Todd but I think that you have more important things to do than to tend to me." Not only does she not want to be a bother, she doesn't feel hungry. Mora can't tell if it is all the excitement or the wine that has caused her lack of appetite; she thinks it must be the excitement.

He nods before he rushes off to the backroom for more beer. Mora turns around, resting her back against the bar while she takes in all of the action, sipping her wine slowly. She has never before been a part of a war, let alone the cause of one. The closest thing she has to compare it to is the Huntress Festival; all of the women who have been through it no longer worry but each year the new girls that join them are excited and terrified all at the same time. Though the people of Sceadu are tough and trained, the air has a smell of apprehension in it.

She looks up when the door opens and sees John, Eric and Dell walk through, all clad in regular clothing. Mora can't help but smile at how odd they look dressed as normal people; they remind her of the first time she saw Rick and how his clothing seemed too tight. She figures they must have come to help with the training or at least Eric used that as an excuse to come talk to her, knowing he is probably upset that she ignored him in the Meadow. Mora doesn't really want to talk to him because she's afraid she will do nothing more than hurt his feelings; after seeing those women fawn over Rick, she knows how Eric must feel about her. Despite her reservations, she finishes her glass and leaves the bar to greet them.

Mora has noticed that her time in Sceadu has caused her inner anger to roam freely in her body. Though she still values the peace that all Derven hold dear, her temper remains unchecked which is dangerous because her anger is the first thing to react before her mind has time to reevaluate the situation.

Weaving her way around the overly full tables, she is forced to pass by one with a particularly loud, drunk group of men. One of them makes the mistake of reaching out and slapping her on the backside, calling rudely to her, "Bring us some more beer, wench!"

Her anger is quick to respond before she has a chance to consider his ignorance is due to his intoxication. Though all in the bar hear his shout, it isn't until Mora grabs his arm, twists it behind his back and slams his head into the table that everyone stops what they are doing to watch. She can feel her face growing hot, irritated that he would consider treating any woman like that.

Her pleasant voice comes out with a growl, like velvet when rubbed the wrong way, "In Sceadu, a tavern is where you go to get into a fight and happen to get drunk. Since you seem to already be drunk, perhaps you would like a fight instead?"

She waits patiently for an answer but doesn't get one. Mora looks up at his companions; the whole table looks completely dumbfounded at the idea that a woman like her has their friend pinned. Their shock only deepens her irritation.

She twists his arm a little more causing him to scream in pain, "I'm sorry, I don't think I heard your answer?"

"No--no fight. I'm sorry, ma'am, that I touched your...rear," he cries out, almost in tears.

"Very well then," she lets go of his arm, feeling slightly bad that she hurt him over something so stupid.

"That's my Princess!" Sari hoots from across the bar. Her words of encouragement cause Mora to smile, flustered. She turns away from the man and gives Sari a slight bow of thanks. When she rises, she sees that the Wardens have made their way across the room and now stand next to her near the rowdy table. Eric's sincere smile hits her with a pang of guilt. She freely looks him over, trying to come up with something to say. He is cleanly shaven, freshly groomed hair brushed back. Without his stubble, if one could ignore the sheer massiveness of his body, he appears soft and kind despite the scar on his face.

His green eyes wander over her; sensing her apprehension, he speaks first, "How about a fight? I'm obviously more your type then he is," he continues to smile as he points over to the injured man. The drunk table bursts out in laughter. Eric, who stands more than a foot over Mora and is probably three times as wide, seems like a formidable foe. He is undoubtedly the largest man in the bar, his size even making Rick seem small.

She smiles at him, thankful for his lighthearted attitude. From the corner of her eye she sees Rick looking over at them from on stage. When she wonders if the expression on his face is concern or jealousy, she drops her head, removing her eyes from Eric's. She doesn't ever want to give Rick another reason to doubt her faithfulness.

Speaking to the floor, she says it louder than she intends, "Don't you know, Warden Eric, you're only supposed to pick on people your own size?" Despite the fact that the table of men behind her want to see her lose, they laugh at her comment.

He reaches out, lifting her chin gently. She feels malfeasance by the familiarity of his touch, knowing that Rick is watching; but Eric, the first man to touch her in a loving way, ignores the stares, "Yes, but you don't know that, Princess. Besides, I need to assure myself that I beat you last time because I could, not because you were injured."

Mora pulls away from his touch, saddened to see the hurt look on Eric's face. She pulls her gloves from her pocket, rubbing the soft leather between her fingers. Though confused at first, the group of men behind her start to connect the dots; they shift nervously, whispering amongst themselves.

"Very well then," Mora gives in. She pulls her gloves on, turning from Eric to climb up onto the stage. The previous fighters, having just finished in a draw, take seats with the rest of the crowd gathered to watch the fight. Rick looks at Mora curiously; though she thinks he is jealous, she doesn't blame him. She was too, when those women sat on his lap. She offers him a wink as reassurance. He snorts at her, standing ready to proctor the fight.

"What weapons are you using?" He softly asks Mora.

"Swords," Eric responds for her, climbing up onto the stage. It takes him less than six steps to cross it to the wall of weapons; he picks out two, handing the smaller one to Mora.

She takes it, twirling her wrist to check the weight. She finds that it has a feel similar to a staff; stretching her right arm above her head, she bends to the left to loosen her muscles while looking at Rick. His expression is definitely jealousy. Smiling to herself, she walks to the opposite side of the stage from Eric; the fact that he is jealous of the idea of her fighting another man seems absurd but it must mean that he loves her. Rick, standing near the wall in the middle, gives them the go ahead.

Eric trots to her, swinging the sword at her left side. Mora blocks easily, expecting the force of his hit to send a jolt of pain through her arm but it doesn't. She is surprised to see that his fighting style is significantly delicate, unlike the brutish rough one of Lucas. He is very experienced, moving deftly away from her attacks but coming right back without hesitation. They fight, moving back and forth across the stage, Rick circling them cautiously. Within minutes, Mora spots Eric's weakness.

When he strikes her, she defends but twirls her sword around his, causing it to fly up into the air. She catches it easily in her left hand. Knowing that he should have been holding onto it tighter, she gets the feeling that he is pretending to be weak, to make her look better. She pauses for a moment before she throws it back to him, slightly irritated that he would try to throw the fight, "You're not trying very hard, Warden."

He catches it easily, grinning at her in response "Neither are you, Princess."

Finally dedicating himself to the fight, Eric comes at her harder this time, swinging at her feet. She dives out of the way, tucking her body into a roll. By the time she draws herself up, she is astounded by how quickly he crossed the stage. His sword comes down from overhead. Mora holds the hilt of hers tight in her right hand, bracing the flat side of the tip on her left palm. There is a loud ringing sound when the two swords impact. Eric pushes hard against her, forcing her to step back or buckle under his weight. Not letting up, he tries to force her down to her knees but she keeps her body upright, retreating reluctantly until her back is pressed against the wall. Without the use of her hands, she's pinned under Eric's force.

A cocky grin crosses his face, now assured that he could easily beat her in a fair fight; she shakes her head at him, knowing that he has once again underestimated her too soon.

"Ready to give in?" He leans in so that he is inches from her face. He looks at her like a thirsty man looks at water.

"No," she says honestly. She sighs, already lamenting what she has no choice to do, "but I will admit, you do have something I don't."

"What's that, darling," he mocks her, his arrogance giving her the last bit of affirmation she needs.

With a swift jerk, Mora's knee connects with Eric's groin. He instantly doubles over in pain, dropping his sword when he falls down to his knees; a collective groan comes from the men in the crowd while the few women try to hide their snickers.

She kicks his sword away from him, leaning down so she can see his face, "Ready to give in, darling?"

"Is that legal?" Cringing, Lucas asks Rick.

Mora looks over to her love with a smile; his jealousy is gone, replaced by a small amount of pride knowing that she is his. Rick shrugs turning back to Lucas, "All is fair in love and war."

She pats Eric on the back, "Sorry, you didn't give me much choice. I'll count it as payback--consider us even."

"For what?" He huffs out, getting to his feet with her help.

"You bit me, remember?" She laughs, punching him in the arm, "Now walk it off."

He throws his arm over her shoulder. Struggling under his weight, she does the best she can to help him off of the stage.

"So, what is this I hear about you and the Prince?" He says quietly while he deliberately leans more of his weight on her to slow her down. Mora avoids his eyes. She can't help but smile at the thought of being with Rick. Since she doesn't know what to say, she keeps quiet. She finally finds an empty chair which she deposits him in. Eric finally catches her attention; he has a remorseful look, as if it finally occurred to him that he never stood a chance. She feels sorry that she hurt his feelings. Before she turns to walk away, he grabs her hand, making her look back at him. He offers her a smile, "You deserve to be happy...but if you change your mind, let me know."

Mora reaches up, touching his cheek gently, grateful that he understands. "Thanks for not killing me that day in the woods."

He closes his eyes, leaning against her hand. She quickly lets it fall to her side, not wanting him to suffer anymore. Before he can say anything else, she turns and walks swiftly to the bar, keeping her eyes focused on Todd.

He waits for her, sliding a full wine glass across the bar when she reaches him. As she brings it to her lips, she sees Todd look from her to something behind her, before looking back at her again. He raises a brow. Mora takes a long drink, the hair starting to stand up on the back of her neck. She slowly turns around to find everyone in the tavern looking at her. Cautiously, she sets the glass down, not sure what is going on.

*

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