Uncertain Future Ch. 05

Lara was aware of his eyes on her every move. She felt a faint uneasiness from being watched, and a slight embarrassment because a male did it.

"Master. Your shirt. I need you to remove it," she said.

"Just call me Tarok. I never like being called 'master'" he said matter-of-factly. "'It reminds the slave of his place', they said. They were probably right. But I just find it stupid," he added after seeing her blank stare. Moving his hands slowly to avoid disturbing the wound, Tarok ripped the shirt from the neck and carefully extended the tear downward, made a detour around the knife. Lara helped him removed the torn garb.

Lara found herself trying not to ogle at Tarok. She had looked at his naked body many times before, but the distressing circumstance as being his slave prevented her from truly seeing. His chest was impressive. He had hard, defined muscles adorning his torso. His pecs were broad and pronounced, each as wide as her own face. Below them were the stony hills and deep valleys that formed his abdominal, and Lara could gleam the enticing V-shape of his lower abdominal that went further down into his trousers. His body was decorated with a multitude of scars large and small, telling the history of countless battles and violence encounters. The sheer display of power and masculinity sparked some inappropriate tingle inside of her. She quickly resumed her job to hide her own fluster.

The dried blood below the knife took some scrubbing to clean off, but Lara was careful, Tarok had endured so much already. It was unreal that after losing this much blood he was still alive and talking, a normal human would have succumbed much earlier. Lara saw around the edge of the knife there was a thin beet-red crust of clotted blood, sealing the wound temporary.

"You know what to do next Lara?" Tarok asked.

Lara nodded. "Yes, mas..., um, Tarok. There are some dried yarrow leaves in the backpack. I can make a poultice with them to stop the bleeding." She searched the backpack and pulled out a handful of desiccated grayish green mass.

"Good. You do that. I didn't expect a priestess to know anything about first aid."

"It isn't required to know. But as a child I tended to trip and scratch myself a lot. So, I must know," Lara said. Despite the difficult task ahead, she felt a bit relaxed: they were making small talk.

Lara washed the bloody rag with water from the flask. She then crushed the leaves in her hand, poured some water over it and squeezed until she had a soggy mess in her hand. Finally, Lara pressed the moist material to the wet cloth, and the poultice is done. She looked at the knife expectantly, her stomach churned with apprehension.

Taking a deep breath slowly, Tarok gazed down at the knife. He gritted his teeth, his right hand grabbed the handle. His eyes went to Lara and saw that the girl was observing the ground beneath his hooves.

"You're not going to faint, are you?"

Lara jumped, then she shook her head. Her apprehension seemed to amuse Tarok as he grinned weakly before bracing himself.

In one swift motion, he yanked the knife out of his chest. The explosive pain was excruciating and Tarok dropped the knife, his eyes squeezed shut. For a second, he could feel nothing but paralyzing pain; however, the reeling shock passed quickly, leaving a shivering numbness on his chest. When he opened his eyes again, Lara had washed his wound and pressed the poultice to it. Lara hurriedly secured the poultice with a few loops of bandages around his torso.

When everything was done, Tarok resumed slumping against the tree. He panted hard while Lara examined her handiwork. She had never done a full chest bandage wrap before. For a first-timer, she did a decent job. The bandage was tight enough and there was only minimal bleeding.

"Th-thank you, L-Lara," Tarok uttered breathlessly and quickly drifted off, his ragged breathing slowed down to normal.

Lara sat where she was, watching Tarok to make sure the bleeding didn't worsen. After ten minutes, she decided that the poultice had worked well. A good rest was all he needed right now and there was nothing more she could do.

Lara sighed. At least one thing had gone right today.

Lara foraged near the glade to collect more branches and twigs. After carrying two bundles of wood back she decided she had enough firewood for the night. The food could be enough for both of them, at least for two days if they rationed it. She hoped so.

Lara sat down and watched the fire. Everything is well enough. Well, almost everything. She looked at herself. Her body was dirty, her hands covered in dirt and her feet in mud. The dress fared even worse: it was stained with both and dried blood. Lara hated grubbiness. Being a Verea's priestess meant she had to keep herself clean, both inside and outside. While taking a bath once a month or even, Verea forbade, once a year was the standard for people around her, she took a bath every day and prided herself for her cleanliness.

Lara looked in the direction of the stream. It was only thirty minutes away.

Also, with the full moon on cloudless night, there wouldn't be total darkness like she had fretted. She could find her way around.

Lara looked at Tarok. She doubted her sleeping master would be angry if she took some time for herself. Besides, it wouldn't take long.

Oh, and the flask needed to be refilled. That's it. That's her job right now. Refill the flask.

Lara set a few slices of bread in front of Tarok in case he woke up. Picking up the flask, she tiptoed out of the glade and ran towards the stream.

--***--

If some night traveler was crossing the forest at night and stumbled upon a small stream lined with small round pebbles, and if he walked past a fallen tree on the bank, he would think he was in a dream, because in front of him a woman was sitting on a flat white boulder. Her slender backside would captivate his gaze with her mouth-watering elegant curves. Her skin was paler than the rock and shone even brighter than the rippled moon submerged underneath her dangling feet, her wet hair glistening under misty light as if it was made of quicksilver. That traveler would stand rooted as he watched this water nymph humming a tune known only to the river gods of the deep. But then, amazement would turn to confusion when he observed the beatific nymph recoiled in an undignified manner when a cool late autumn breeze passed by.

Lara shivered as she dropped down from the boulder. She had been sitting there for five minutes, waiting to dry off, but the breezes had made that difficult. She'd rather be wet for now and dried herself by the warm fire later than suffered more of these bone-chilling gusts of wind. Lara strolled towards the fallen tree to fetch her dress, which was draped over the trunk.

It was strange bathing in the forest, Lara thought. She was sure no one was watching, but she checked anyway before stripping. How silly of her for doing that. The only thing that she could found eyeing her was a frog on the other bank. Lara wondered for a second if there was a prince behind those bulgy eyes. If there was, then he must be a very happy prince.

When Lara was a few steps away from the tree trunk, a strong gust of wind flew by. Lara froze, not just because of the wind, but also because she saw the dress flew graciously up, peaking at ten feet in the air, and flowed in beautiful rippling waves down into the water.

--***--

Lara sneezed. She felt like a walking icicle, her legs wobbled from trying to run and shake at the same time. Right now, she wished nothing more than to sit by the camp fire again. Thankfully, she could see the warm glow of it right now.

When she barged into the glade, Tarok was already awake.

"Where did you go?" he asked.

"I was, at the stream, fetching water," replied Lara, raising the goat skin flask slightly.

"Why are you wet like that?"

"I, um, I was bathing, and my clothes fell into the river."

It was then that Lara noticed his gaze had dropped from her face to her body and currently creeping lower. She looked down. Back in the stream she couldn't see clearly under the dim moonlight, but in the illuminating camp fire, Lara watched in horror how the semi-transparent wet fabric had clung to her body, accentuating the curves of her body. More embarrassingly, she saw clearly her twin hard pink peaks poking the front of her dress. To add more crimson to her rapidly redden cheeks, the dress's hemline, which hung mid-thigh after she tore it, was pushed further up during her rush to return, exposing almost all of her thighs.

Lara immediately flopped down as close to the fire as she could, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and strategically folded her legs, her eyes downcast to hide her mounting shame.

For a moment there was only the warm crackling of the fire. The fire was the only thing between Tarok's eyes and Lara.

"There's some food before you." Lara's voice rang out from her hair-veiled face.

"I know. I'm not really hungr—"

"Please eat it."

"Lara I'm not—"

"Pleasee."

Tarok's eyes didn't leave Lara. When her body hunched forward like that, she looked like a wet cat that's guilty of something. That's kind of charming. Charming? He mentally added that to the list of new thoughts that had recently materialized in his mind.

He picked up a slice of break and was about to bite it, then he looked up, as if remembered something.

"Do you want to eat?"

"No."

Tarok put the piece of bread down. "I won't eat if you won't."

"I will, but later. I just need a moment to dry my clothes. I promised."

Tarok rolled his eyes and began his supper. "You know, if you don't want me to look, you can just ask," he said after swallowing his first slice and grabbed the second.

Lara stayed silence. For a while no one said anything. Occasionally she would glance up and saw Tarok being fascinated with either the bread or the ground or the trees on his side, basically anywhere but the girl sitting opposite him. She drew a thankful breath and loosened.

After a while, the dress lost its last bit of moisture, and therefore its transparency. Lara felt confident enough to stand up and walked to Tarok to grab her dinner. She sat down and nipped the bread timidly, not forgetting to hand the flask over to Tarok, who took two swigs from it.

When Lara had done with her meal, there was only an awkward silence...

...which got progressively more awkward.

Lara coughed and spoke first, disrupting the choir of crickets, "Are you feeling better, Tarok?"

"Certainly. Just a little dizziness, but I'll live. All thanks to you. That's a great job you did, patching me up and gathering supplies."

"Thank you. I'm glad to hear it." She smiled at him.

He replied with a tired smile of his own. "I didn't have the chance to say this before, but you are very brave Lara."

"Brave? Me? That's kind of you to say, but I'm not," Lara quickly dismissed the compliment but couldn't help but reddened a little. She's not used to praises.

"Nonsense. You are brave," Tarok reasserted. "Look at me. I'm alive because of you. You saved me, Lara. That fire, the food I ate, all thanks to you. Hell, you helped me defeat Melisza," he said in a passionate voice. He looked as if he had swung his arm around if he wasn't wounded.

Lara's face darkened at the mention of Melisza's name. Tarok saw it and cringed. He shut up.

"Lara," Tarok called to her. The gentleness of his voice reminded Lara when he pleaded for her to be brave. She looked up to him. "I know what I did at Melisza's lair was harsh and cruel. It had to be done. But," he inhaled and sighed, "I regretted that you have to witness it."

Lara listened to him and gave a slight nod.

"Tarok, why did you leave me at the lake?" she asked.

"Umm." Tarok coughed. "When I came to destroy to gem, I saw how you look at me. The same look of disgust that I have gotten since I was young. I figured the last thing you want was to see me again, so I left you there by the lake. At that moment I just thought that, well, you can figure a way to get out of the forest. Guess I was wrong."

"It's not disgust. I'm just...shocked. You strangled Melisza, right next to me, how did you expect me to react," Lara complained. "When I woke up and I didn't see you, I was so scared." She looked at her lap and didn't see the surprised look on his face. "Besides, even if I knew the way out of here, I wouldn't leave. You were wounded. You needed help. I couldn't leave you alone in here to die."

"You... would? You would stay to help me?" asked the minotaur.

"Of course. You are my master, and you had protected me. Then I, as your slave, will take care of your need," Lara answered dutifully.

They said nothing more after that. Both of them looked at the fire for a while.

After an owl began to hoot, Lara said crisply, "I think I should go to sleep. It's been a long day. You should sleep too, Tarok." Lara stood up, walked to the opposite side of the fire and lied down.

Lara closed her eyes, yet she couldn't sleep. The night was cold, even the slightest breeze caused Lara to shiver violently. She slept facing the fire, and as a result can only keep her front warm, while every inch of her back screamed with agony when a whiff of night wind flew by. The flimsy fabric of her dress didn't offer any insulation, and she couldn't move any closer to the fire without burning herself.

So cold.

"Lara. Lara. Come here. I need help," Tarok called to her.

Lara blinked several times and quickly pulled herself up. "What's the matter? Are you bleeding?" Lara asked as she approached him.

As soon as she was near enough, Tarok swung his right arm around Lara, grabbed her firmly by the waist and pulled her to the uninjured side of his chest. The grab was sudden but not too violent, and Lara was pressed to him before she realized what happened, her face met his chest.

"What are you doing?" Lara screamed and tried to wiggle. However, Tarok, despite his weakened state, was still too strong for her.

"Calm, Lara, or you may attract the wolves," Tarok said calmly, his arm strained to contain the distraught girl.

"Wo-wolves?" Lara whimpered and quit struggling. Closing her eyes and inhaling sharply, she said, as calm as she could, "Tarok, why are you doing this? Please, let me go."

"Are you cold? I saw you shaking when you sleep," he said.

Lara peered up at him in utter confusion.

"I'm not hurting you, if that's what you think," he added quickly when he sensed fright in her brown beady eyes. "I just think, you should sit right here with me. Then you can stay warm. Sorry I pulled you in, but I've got a feeling you wouldn't agree otherwise."

"That's...what you want?"

Tarok nodded. "I want you to be comfortable. I swear I won't do anything inappropriate."

Lara thought for a second. His body was indeed warm, and she could feel her back melting with joy due to the heat from his melon-size hand. But an objection bubbled up immediately in her head.

"I don't trust you," she uttered. Her rebuke took Tarok aback.

"On my second night on your bed you said you would give me time with my virginity, but then you threatened me with anal sex," Lara said. Her voice shook with emotions.

"That...what I said was your real virginity, not the other—," Tarok said, but shut up immediately when he saw Lara's petite body shaking. She was distraught and not listening.

"Please, Tarok. Let me go," begged Lara.

Tarok inhaled, then said, "Lara. You might not believe me, but I swear with all my life, this is true. I wasn't going to do it. It was a stupid jest. Stupid and vile. I knew you were not ready. I never forced that on my slaves, or any girls. My intention was just to scare you. I was waiting to see you frightened, then I would release you. It was a fell jest, nothing more. I swear. I didn't mean to actually do it."

The traumatic memory replayed in Lara's head. It could be true. He did let her go, at the same time that Lara plunged forwards to his neck. That's why she overshot his neck and kissed him instead.

Lara sat still on his lap, yet she wasn't fully convinced. Tarok let go of Lara's back. She gingerly removed herself from his chest, although a tiny part of her brain yelled at her to keep pressing her face in his warm, muscular chest. It was so comfortable.

Suddenly, Tarok squeezed her hand, and when he let go, Lara saw a knife in her palm—the knife that stabbed Tarok, its blade still had some dried blood.

"Take this. If I try anything vile or vulgar with you, then slit my throat or stab me in the heart with this," he said firmly. Seeing Lara's face grew softer, he pressed on, "Lara, I hate seeing you shiver in the cold. I swore nothing inappropriate will happen. Besides, it would be really embarrassing if you survive that evil witch, then died of simple cold."

Lara though a moment. Then her eyes turned to the knife. Finally, she stood up, turned around and sat down, her back to Tarok. Without looking at Tarok, she threw the knife into the fire. It made a "thud" sound and disappeared beneath the flames.

"I don't want to touch anything from that witch," she said. "And it is a great insult to a priestess of Verea to suggest she commit violence."

Tarok opened his mouth to apologize but Lara was quicker. She turned around to face him, tiny sparks of tinder flared in her eyes. "And you swore. If you try anything, then I...I will..." Lara trailed off. In her impulsive hotheadedness, she forgot that she had never made a threat to anyone before and found herself without anything menacing to say. "...then I don't know what I'll do."

She did an about-face and sat back down, her back to Tarok. Her face grew red, but not because of the anger. Just great, she thought, she'd picked the lamest thing she could say.

Tarok bit his teeth to avoid snickering. Not one of his slaves, not one of his men, hell, not even Erika had dared to yell at him before, and this girl sitting between his legs had just done it. But he didn't feel even a speck of anger, only amusement.

"Fine, fine. You have my word. Don't want to be yelled at again," he said half-jokingly. Lara said nothing and just folded her legs into a square, she smoothed her dress to cover her legs as much as possible.

Tarok slowly put his right hand around her midriff, his palm pressed against her belly, covering it. His other hand was put on her left knee. He didn't do anything more than that.

Lara watched as he embraced her. Being bashful, Lara would've complained but felt too good to object. In the end, she decided that she could live with this.

"You could lean on me to sleep. Mind the wound, though," he suggested. She was sitting upright; her back an inch away from him. Then Lara slowly leaned back and almost moaned. His body was really warm. Out of the blue, she wondered how it must feel to sleep like this while hold his arm like a hugging pillow, but quickly pushed that strange idea away.

As comfort as she was, Lara didn't feel sleepy. The little commotion with Tarok had made her wide awake. She tipped her head up to find Tarok's eyes on her.

"You said there are wolves?"

"Um," he mumbled weakly, his eyes shifted. "Actually, I've never seen one in this forest, and neither did my men."

"Wait. So, you don't know if there are any wolves that live here?" Lara raised her voice.

"But if there are," he said quickly, "I wouldn't worry much if I was you. I'm sure their bellies would be full after they have eaten me, so you'll be fine." He held his breath.

"That's not funny!" she protested and whisked her head down.

Tarok breathed out carefully. She didn't get up and walk away, that's good.

He inhaled and notice a faint pleasing scent. It was from Lara's hair. He discretely dropped his head lower and breathed in. It was the same scent that he smelled from her in his bedroom. It didn't ring a bell then. Now, he remembered this scent from long ago but hadn't encounter it again until Lara showed up. A flower, yes, and it was white. He tried to remember, but the name of it eluded him. He inhaled again. Was it...?