As A Stranger Or A Friend?

Axtapor - 11 Rain's Hand, 1245 A.D.

I didn't sleep the night before. There was so much on my mind that it was impossible to. Above all, I felt like a fool. I thought we were on our way to something more or that she was warming to my company as she seemed more docile in my presence, perhaps even becoming comfortable with me. But as it turned out, she was trying to seduce me in her own bumbling way because somehow she had gotten into her head that I wanted to fuck her. And it wasn't that I didn't have the desire to, but it was as I had told her, I didn't want her if she didn't want me. I had no desire to rape anyone, especially not her, when she was special to me for one reason or another.

I spent the whole night combing my thoughts for what I might have said or done to make her think those were my intentions. After the morning I rescued her, I didn't kiss her again, I hadn't embraced her, and I certainly hadn't been peeping on her when she was bathing, changing, or doing any other personal activity. I hadn't even really flirted with her, perhaps the odd wink here or there, but I didn't think that was enough to convey such a garbled message. Of course, I looked at her, and part of that was because she was nice to look at, but also because I needed to make sure she wasn't on the verge of collapse as before. I had already been careless with her once and told myself I would keep a more watchful eye on her to avoid such a thing happening again.

All that said, I could come up with nothing that would suggest to her what she seemed to believe was an indisputable fact. Perhaps I could have been more forthcoming about what I wanted from her, but that would be nearly impossible because I didn't even know what I wanted. Not truly, anyway. All I wanted was to be near her, but for what reason? There really wasn't one, not one that was properly defendable anyway. If I told her such a thing, she might become suspicious of me, even fearful, and what good would that do? Despite all of my scrambled thoughts, I knew one thing: I didn't want her to be afraid of me.

I sighed and looked out the window. It was sundown now, and unlike most other days, she had not come out of her room. She was clearly trying to avoid me, but she couldn't keep that up for long. I decided we would travel at night since she couldn't withstand the heat, and given it was already sundown, she would have to come out of there soon. We had to move; we had already been here for too long. I got to my feet and knocked on her door.

"We must go."

"I-I don't want to!" Her tiny and defiant voice came from the other side of the door.

I sighed frustratedly. Why was she acting like such a child? Had she forgotten that she was being hunted? We couldn't just stay here!

"We must—" The knob would not turn. Had she really locked herself in there? "Open the door, Mariel."

"N-No!"

I let out a small growl, taking a step back and kicking the door in with little effort. She screamed and smashed herself into the corner of the room with a dull-looking knife in her hands. She was clearly frightened, but if she had just opened the door as I had asked her to, she wouldn't be. She was usually so cooperative; just what had gotten into her all of a sudden?

"Gather yer thin's." I commanded.

"N-No! I-I don't want to go with you! I can't— I can't take being around you anymore! I have nothing to give you, and you won't tell me what you want!" She screamed at me through her sobs.

I tried to advance towards her when she turned the knife on herself, pressing it against her neck. I stopped immediately and felt my gut twist. Did she truly hate me so much that she would rather kill herself than be in my presence? Why? How? What had I done that was so wrong?

"Put the knife down, lass. Ye nay know what ye be doin'." I said to her in as steady a tone as I could.

"N-No!" She screamed back, hands trembling.

"Will tell ye what it be that I want, ey? Just put the knife down." I continued, hoping she would listen to me.

Her tiny chest was rising and falling quickly, and her glassy eyes scanned me as if to determine whether or not I was being truthful. I would need to do more if I wanted to convince her that I wouldn't avoid her question or lie to her. I raised my hands slowly and began to kneel. She seemed surprised by the gesture and, after a few moments, lowered the knife from her neck. I felt a lump form in my throat. Was I really going to cry? What the fuck was wrong with me? It must be the belated shock of seeing her attempt such a thing... And while I knew she was confused, she had to know I was too, didn't she? I knew she was not cruel. She was sweet and gentle and kind; she could muster no such ferocity or hatred. She was all things good.

"Tell me what you want." She said as she sniffled.

"Yer heart." I blurted out, "I want ye to stay with me; that be all I want. I mean it well and true. But I nay knew how to say as so to ye."

She dropped the knife and braced herself against the corner of the room with both hands. To say she was in shock was an understatement; she looked paler than I had ever seen her. And behind her eyes, I could see an endless flurry of thoughts, each fighting for a place to be held and understood. I wanted to avoid that look! I wanted to avoid that shock! But she left me no choice!

"You— You want my heart?" She eked out in the tiniest and most breathless of voices.

"Aye. I nay know when— Mariel!"

She fell to the ground in a tiny heap. I got on my feet quickly and gathered her in my arms. She was completely limp; no doubt the shock of my revelation was too much for her to handle. I supposed I shouldn't be surprised, but I was still frustrated that she forced my hand like that. If she had just been more patient, then perhaps I would have been able to tell her more gently, and she wouldn't suffer this way. But now that she knew, things would change. I sat down on the bed and cradled her in my arms selfishly. She was mine, and when she woke, I would tell her I was determined not to let her go.