The Girl in the Red Cloak Ch. 02

Although Lukas crossed her mind occasionally that day, on the whole Clara was far too busy to give him much thought. Between administering the valdir and using her own powers to help the sick, she scarcely had a free second to eat, let alone ponder the mysterious Maharian. Her work was rewarding though, and she saw with relief that the valdir was doing its job. It appeared there would be no more fatalities from this plague, provided she continued her careful observation and care. By the time she'd seen to the last baby, the sun was nearing the horizon, and as she stood, her weary body complained and she wondered what had possessed her to offer to return to the Maharian that night. She briefly considered reneging on her promise, but the healer in her balked at the idea, and if she was being completely honest, she had a strange longing to see him again.

As she neared the woods, she wondered if Lukas would still be waiting. Perhaps she was foolish to trust the word of a Maharian, and her effort tonight would be nothing more than a fool's errand. Perhaps, but she did not believe it. Something about his promise rang true, and she believed that though he might be a bit of a bounder, when he gave his word he meant it. Why she felt this way, she could not say.

You like him.

The thought sprang up unbidden, and she was quick to brush it aside, dismissing it as the product of her overtired body. Healers had no time for such folderol as romance, and if she did it certainly wouldn't be with that arrogant Maharian! A fellow healer, perhaps. In her training, she had grown rather close to one of her fellow students, a boy named Thomas. There were very few male healers, but he was one. They had been the same age, and so thrown together often by their teachers. She mused over the memory as she entered the woods and made her way to the clearing.

Thomas had already been there when she had been brought to the temple for training, though only by a few weeks. At first, he had been an insufferable know-it-all, boasting about his skills and being rather bossy to Clara, as if she were far younger than him. Her quick aptitude and eagerness to learn soon saw her surpassing him, and though he was a bit put out at first, he eventually came to respect and admire her skills. Within 6 months they were friends, and by the end of their first year they were nearly inseparable. Clara had felt very warmly toward him, though as they neared the end of their group training and prepared to go their separate ways for apprenticeships, Thomas had made a declaration of love for her.

Clara had promptly discouraged him, reminding him of the long years of training and separation still ahead of them. Thomas had persisted, claiming time and distance were immaterial to such a love as his. Though Clara loved him very much, it was not with the passionate fervor that Thomas displayed, and she refused his advances. Thomas promised that he would always love her, and held to it until they were separated for their apprenticeships. They had kept in touch initially through letters, though there were long gaps in between; healers were hard to stake down to a specific location.

Eventually the letters became even more scarce, and now Clara heard only about Thomas through fellow Healers she happened to meet on the road. Still, she'd always imagined when she was ready to settle down, if she ever was, that it would be with someone like Thomas - stable, strong, and perfectly able to understand the demands on a Healer's time. The few Healers who had married outside their own ranks almost all seemed to have troubled marriages. Their husbands, who at first had been captivated by their wives' powers and abilities quickly became jealous of the time spent away from them on others. Very few were understanding enough to cope with what marriage to a Healer really meant.

It was said that Queen Amelia had initially been sent to Healer training, but after meeting then-Prince Roderick, she had forsaken her training, ignored her gifts, and become his wife. It was only rumors, and none of Clara's teachers would confirm or deny the truth of the matter. Clara could not imagine turning her back on her powers, they were such a strong part of her. They were ingrained in every fiber of her being, and she might just as well decide to stop breathing air as to stop using her powers. All her teachers had said her gift was exceptionally strong, but even if it had been less powerful she believed it would be painful to ignore it. How Queen Amelia must have suffered! Of course, the Queen's troubles had been over for many years now, and more was the pity, for perhaps her Healer's heart would have guided her to influence her husband against the war.

"Red."

Clara jumped, startled out of her thoughts. Lukas slunk out from behind a tree, giving her a little half-smile.

"I didn't think you would really come." He seemed genuinely pleased, and Clara felt a warm little tingle at giving him pleasure.

"A Healer always keeps her word," she said simply, betraying none of her nervousness over seeing him again.

"And alone, too. I'm a little impressed."

"Well," said Clara with a little toss of her head, "You don't know about the alone part. I might have an entire Lotharisian squadron behind me, closing in on you."

"I've been following you almost since you entered to forest. If you had another person following you, let alone a squadron, I'd know." He stared her down and Clara felt quite unnerved. She'd had no clue that he was there; he must have moved very quietly indeed.

"Then let's get down to business," she said brusquely, to hide her surprise. "If you would be so good as to remove your shirt, I'll examine you."

Lukas grinned broadly and made an elaborate show of setting down his weapon and pack, and very slowly pulled his shirt over his head. Clara tried to be professional and not gawk like a love-struck school girl at his firm, bronze body. His muscle definition was visible beneath his skin, at least until it came to his chest, which was slightly obscured beneath his curly chest hair. His arms were large, but not bulging, and his trousers hugged against his hips in a way that made something inside her ache a little bit. She'd seen plenty of undressed men before, some completely nude - Healers saw all - so why should this man with only his shirt off be affecting her so? She moved toward him hastily, zoning in on his wound. Somehow on him, the slight imperfection only increased his visual appeal.

"You see these red marks around the wound," she said, her finger gently tracing the edges, "If you had listened to me this morning and spent the day resting, they would not be here. You might even be nearly healed by now." His stomach was warm under her touch, and she knew it wasn't just the energy the wound was giving off as the healing process made it knit itself back together again. The night had grown a little chilly and she relished his warmth against her fingers. "It seems to be coming along nicely, though. I'll just check for any signs of infection." She pressed her hand against him and felt, though she doubted she'd find anything. She'd purified it the first time she'd touched it. Still, it was nice to be touching him, and by the way he was smiling down at her he didn't mind much either.

"Are you always so hands-on, little Healer?" he asked.

"I have to touch to get a sense of the injuries, and without touching, I cannot heal. The power flows through me, out through my hands. I have heard legendary tales of the Healers of old, who could heal without touch, but if the tales are true, those powers have long since been lost to us." She continued her magical probing at his wound, for there was no sense in having him get an infection just because of her hubris. After all, he had been traipsing through the underbrush this morning, and doing who-knows-what after she'd left him. A little bit of sensing and probing was such a trivial drain on her powers that she did not fear a repeat of the blackout incident of the night before.

"Your hands are extra sensitive then? Or are they merely a conduit for the powers?" Lukas seemed genuinely curious.

"A conduit," said Clara, still probing. "I need my hands, but I'm afraid that there is nothing special about them, other than being attached to a Healer, of course." Satisfied that the wound was clean, if a little aggravated after his non-Healer-prescribed activities, she removed her hand. She was slightly disappointed that the search had turned up nothing, for it would have given her a valid excuse to lay hands on him longer.

"And the rest of you? Is anywhere else particularly sensitive?" Lukas' eyes seemed to gleam in the light of dusk.

"N-no." Clara stammered, feeling suddenly shy.

"So for example," said Lukas, raising a hand to her face, "If I were to touch you here" - his thumb moved over her bottom lip in a gentle caress- "you feel nothing extraordinary?"

Clara was all of a sudden aware of just how close he was to her, his body mere inches from hers. Her lip trembled at his touch, and she yearned for more.

"No, a simple touch of a finger does nothing to me," she said with a slight arch of her brow. Even Clara was astonished at her boldness. Why, she was practically asking him to kiss her. Her stomach flopped at the thought, yet she couldn't deny her desire for his mouth against hers.

"Hmm," said Lukas, and leaned closer to her. "Perhaps we should try something else." She could feel his hot breath on her face, and without knowing exactly what she was doing, she found herself tilting her head back, the better to match the angle of his. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Lukas leaned closer to her, till finally he was only a hairsbreadth away from her. Her lips parted of their own accord, and he must have taken it as consent, for suddenly his mouth was hot against hers, his tongue plundering her and evoking feelings deep within her that she'd never felt before. Her hands crept up his still unclothed torso, twining themselves into his chest hair. His own hands grasped her waist, slipping under the red cloak and pulling her yet closer to him. If she'd felt warmth radiating from his wound earlier, it was nothing compared to the heat emanating from his full body pressing into her. He pulled her up and closer, and she was nearly on her tip-toes, lost in the kiss, lost in the moment.

His lips were surprisingly soft, in stark contrast to his stubbly facial hair which rubbed against her cheeks. His tongue probed at hers as she had earlier probed at his wound, and she completely surrendered herself to him, voicing no objection even as he slid a hand up her body to stroke the outside slope of her breast through her bodice. She hungered for more, feeling the passion pulse through her every vein. She must be crazy, to allow a Maharian such liberties, yet she seemed unable to stop him, nor to make herself want him to stop. He withdrew his tongue and bit tenderly on her bottom lip, the sensations it caused making her knees go weak. She wanted everything and yet nothing from this enemy soldier, her body craving for more even as her bemused mind worked overtime to figure out what she was doing with him.

At last Lukas drew back, and Clara was disappointed, though she immediately composed her face, as if she did this sort of thing every day and it meant nothing to her. For all he knew, she did routinely kiss or couple with her attractive male patients. Not that he was that attractive. For a Maharian, maybe, but of course like any loyal citizen of Lotharis she was not seriously interested in the enemy. Alright, maybe he was good looking, but he was still arrogant and ill-mannered, which practically canceled out the looks.

Lukas watched her changing facial expressions with his own look of amusement.

"I see you are quite sensitive there after all, mila- Clara."

She huffed at him and hastened to salvage her dignity.

"I suppose in Maharia it's considered fine for a gentleman to steal a kiss from an unsuspecting lady, but here in Lotharis we have more polite standards. You merely caught me unawares, Sir, and unable to defend myself in time." She realized as she spoke that her hands were still pressed against his warm, firm chest, and dropped them to her sides instantly.

Lukas merely smiled at her, that coy half-smile she found so irritating.

"Oh no, Healer Clara, in Maharia the rules are quite the same- " Clara opened her mouth to make a sharp retort, only to be cut off by Lukas. " -for a gentleman." With that remark he swiftly brought his lips to hers again, and to her chagrin she was instantly returning the kiss, hot and burning beneath his mouth. Her own tongue sought his, dancing against it as he once again pressed her against him, an unmistakable hardness growing between them. Clara had healed quite enough men to be familiar with male anatomy, and the firm, insistent presence brought her back to her senses as nothing else would have. She pushed back from him, her hands having clutched at him again without her being aware of it.

"I really should be getting back," she said, with a haughty toss of her head. "I'll need a proper rest to continue my Healer's duties tomorrow." She made to take a step back, but found his hands held her fast.

"I'm afraid I can't let you go," said Lukas, his grip firm.

Clara stared at him, aghast. Surely he didn't mean-

"I can't let you go," continued Lukas, "Until you admit that you like and even wanted that kiss."

"How dare you," Clara drew herself up her full height, though it was hardly imposing next to his large stature. "I am a Healer and and I have Healer business to attend to! You would stand in the way of that?"

"Not at all," said Lukas, that devilish amusement dancing in his bright blue eyes again. "If only you'll admit this one tiny thing." Clara struggled against his hands to make an escape, but to no avail.

"I could have you hanged for this," she said. "It is against the law to detain a Healer." She wondered if her bluff was fooling him at all.

"Your Lotharisian law means nothing to me," said Lukas. "If they caught hold of me, I imagine they'd have far more exciting charges to levy against me." He raised an eyebrow slightly, challenging her to prove him wrong.

Clara saw the logic in that argument and swiftly abandoned it. An enemy soldier on home territory, who had been skulking about on enemy business and had killed at least one Lotharisian soldier here, and probably more? His minor offense against a healer would mean nothing at all if he was caught, and it would serve him right if he was.

"You should think of the children, if nothing else," she pleaded, unwilling to admit even to herself how much she'd enjoyed the kiss.

"And if you are still here come morning, when the babes awake and need your services, I shall surrender to your imperial will and beg your pardon with my humble apologies, and send you on your way. However, it looks to be a long night till then." He gazed skyward, at the stars that were just beginning to show themselves.

Clara sighed. She could see no way around it, for she certainly could not afford to waste an entire evening's rest in the company of this brute. And, perhaps, if she was being completely honest with herself, she had wanted it a little? Only as a reprieve from her exhausting duties as healer, of course, definitely not because she liked him. Any farm boy or shopkeeper's apprentice close to her own age would have suited. Lukas - this Maharian - only served because he happened to be near when she happened to need a distraction, and nothing more. His arms about her waist reminded her that although any lad would have done, this one in particular was holding her tight, and she could see no other way of escaping short of giving him the answer he desired.

"I suppose," she said slowly and reluctantly, "that it might be construed, or perceived that I did, perhaps, enjoy it a little. A very little. Only as it served as a necessary distraction from the hard work of the day. It might have been anyone," she declared more loudly, seeing his triumphant smile, "who could have served the purpose, you just happened to be the first..." she searched for the right words "Able-bodied, unwed specimen of masculinity I came across." There! That might knock some of the wind out of his sails!

To her surprise, he only grinned more broadly.

"Such an honor it is then, to be such a specimen."

Clara sniffed and pointedly looked back in the direction she had come. He parted his hands and allowed her to step back. She immediately went about the business of straightening her clothes and her cloak, brushing imaginary dirt from them where he had touched her.

"Might I escort you, Healer Clara, to the edge of the forest?" He was making that ridiculous half-bow again. He was so arrogant! So sure of himself, and she'd only fed into it by letting him believe she wanted him to kiss her.

Clara glared at him, letting ice creep into her tone as she responded.

"I will find my own way, and I'll thank you to find yours!" With that, she turned and flounced off, her cape billowing out behind her as she heard his laughter follow her.

"I'll be here again tomorrow, Red, just waiting on you!"

Honestly, was the man dense? That was never, ever, going to happen.

**

Clara woke grumpy the next morning, still annoyed at the Maharian. If she was honest, she was also annoyed with herself, for in her heart of hearts, she could not deny she had wanted the kiss, had enjoyed it, and even now she grew heated and flushed thinking of it. Part of her wanted another, and more, and part of her wanted to run to nearest outpost and inform the Lotharisian soldiers of his presence. She wouldn't, of course, no matter how annoyed she was. Only if he'd done something truly dreadful, like coming into the village and taking innocent lives would she resort to that. She spent an extra few minutes in bed allowing herself to feel annoyed before rousing to begin her rounds. Regardless of his lack of integrity, he had not hurt her, and she had duties. Trying to put the Maharian from her mind, she donned her red cloak and left the inn to check on the little ones. The inn-keeper's wife pressed a warm loaf of bread and a flagon of cider on her before she left, and Clara smiled gratefully. She nibbled at the loaf as she walked, for if the babes needed much of her attention she might not have time for food till much, much later.

To her surprise, when she reached the make-shift nursery that had been set up in the Mayor's common room her old teacher, Bimi, was already there. Clara had sent out word requesting more healers, but she had not expected one to come so soon, and certainly not Bimi, who was like a mother to her.

"Bimi!" she cried, and Bimi looked up from the baby she was attending, broke into a grin, and dashed across the room, meeting Clara halfway in an embrace.

"It has been too long, little one," said Bimi, pulling Clara to arms' length so she could get a good look at her. "You've grown. Taller, and more beautiful."

Clara blushed.

"Beauty is as beauty does," she replied, which had been a favorite saying of Bimi when Clara had been an awkward, gangly teenager, looking at the beautiful older girls and despairing of ever looking like them. The two shared a little laugh over the old joke.

"I didn't expect you to come," continued Clara. "Last I heard, you were over near the coast." The Healers took it in turns to teach at the Temple of Healing, some choosing to stay longer than the required 2 years, and some leaving the day their time was up. Bimi had stayed until Clara had moved on to her apprenticeship and left the temple, but now she was another wandering Healer, like Clara. Time and age had slowed her a little, but only a little, and her impish eyes still sparkled with laughter and love as they had when Clara was a young girl.