Man, this chunk was hard to write. I'm sitting in the library with my friend and, while I've managed to get a lot of words out, I know that this part is going to require extensive editing in the future.
A quick note- some of this might be a bit uncomfortable to read. It was very uncomfortable to write. Don't worry, things will get much worse.
For nearly two hours they played Mistress Ayodelle’s favorite game. Jack insisted that they stay within the otherwise abandoned Herder cabin and Daisy wondered what his pack brothers would think if they some him playing hide and seek with a giggling young mistress. From what she knew of their personalities, she assumed that they would be perfectly fine with it- but would tease him relentlessly on principle.
Mistress Ayodelle won every game, though she did not use her mental connection with their tags to give herself a greater advantage than nature already had. Daisy was quite proud of the fact that, despite his intense confidence going into the game, she beat Jack nearly as often as he did her.
When he had demanded to know how she found him so easily, she had answered with flushed enthusiasm that it was her job to find the lost and, while her targets were usually the defenseless lambs that had wandered away, rather than the more fierce and wild prey that he sought out, she still had a great deal of tracking ability bred and trained into her. He had looked rather surprised and pleased with this.
Not long after that, as Daisy was guiding her flock out to graze, she felt a presence approaching from behind her. She had automatically spun, dropping into a defensive crouch and baring her teeth. Jack had given her a very amused smirk in response, but slowed to keep his distance. When she realized who it was, she blushed and stood, arching her brows at him curiously.
“I saw you leaving,” he explained with supreme confidence. “We do not hunt today, so I thought that I would come and watch you work.”
She wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It was unusual for a human of a distinctly working breed like a West Barrow Hunter to express any interest in a job that they were not specifically bred to. She did not want to contradict him, so she just nodded and, feeling embarrassed for reasons she could not completely define, dashed off to get her sheep back into order.
Jack did not assist her as she ran back and forth behind and around the flock, whistling or occasionally giving them a little shove to keep them moving together in the direction of her choice, nor did she expect him to. She pushed herself to be the best Herder that she could, running fleetly from one side of the flock to the other, controlling her wards with just her intent gaze and keeping the animals in a neat little group as she brought them to a place that she deemed suitable for them to graze.
The sheep were uncomfortable with Jack's unfamiliar presence and showed it by reacting more skittishly than typical, particularly when she brought them to a halt. They scattered away from him and she even had to run and catch one of them when he decided to make a break for it, cuffing him once on the head for making her look bad as she brought him back to join the rest.
Jack seemed unconcerned with the minor chaos he was causing among her flock and settled comfortably on the grass to watch with his penetrating yellow eyes. When she had finally gotten her wooly charges settled, she moved near him, sitting in the tall grass nearby and gazing at him out of the corner of her eye, curiously. For a time, he did not acknowledge her presence and continued to study the sheep as they searched out the most succulent patch of grass to consume.
Finally, the agitated crawling under her skin, waiting for him to speak, got the better of her. “What do you think of the flock?” she blurted, then her eyes widened in horror at her lack of manners and she ducked her head to stare at her knees.
Slowly, he turned just his head to face her, a wide grin on his face and she realized that his aloofness was his form of teasing. She relaxed a little and studied his expression, liking the lines that his smile put around his mouth and eyes and feeling impressed with his long, sharp canines. “I find them to be idiotic, smelly animals,” he said, calmly. Her heart sank a little until he met her eyes and continued, “Though their Herder is much more appealing.”
A flush of pleasure spread across her cheeks and she wondered what he saw when his yellow-eyed gaze lingered on her like that. She knew that she wasn’t as fine looking as her sister, though they shared many similarities. Her hair fell in black waves to the middle of her back, though when she was working, as now, she kept it in a thick braid. Her skin was blotchy white and gray, not a sleek, silvery-gray like Jack’s but a darker, foggy gray that was liberally freckled with black spots, particularly down her back, across her shoulders and around the outside of her face. She dressed like a typical herder, with side, loose trousers, a thick, well-fitted tunic and simple sandals that were well strapped to her swift feet.
She felt terribly awkward and plain compared to his dignified appearance, with his smoothly shaven head and bare chest. And what difference did it make, anyway? The most she could hope from him was a simple friendship. Different breeds would never be allowed to have any sort of relationship beyond that. The masters would consider any such thing to reduce both of their values and certainly would not be tolerated for any sort of breeding.
Realizing the direction that her thoughts had turned, her face flamed up again and, seeing the quirked brow and amused smirk on his face, she considered quickly digging a hole in which to bury herself. “My sister has a bigger flock,” she said, haltingly, trying to prevent him from giving too much attention to what she might be thinking. “Master Athanaric thinks that she is more trustworthy than me.” Her shoulders sagged a little as she found herself really saddened by this fact for the first time. “Perhaps she would be a better person to observe, if you want to learn about Herding.”
Jack snorted softly, “I think not.”
Daisy could not refrain the tiny smile that this brought to her lips. They sat mostly in silence for most of the afternoon, but Daisy thought that it was perhaps the nicest day she had spent since coming to the estate.
Jack sought her out from time to time after that, when he did not have a hunt, though it was infrequent enough to keep from drawing suspicion to his absence and to leave Daisy feeling bereft and hollow when she guarded her flock alone. When he was with her, he told her stories about hunting and his pack brothers. She never met them in person, but she came to know Rocky, Joe, Westy and Lion through his stories as if they were old friends. She told him about her childhood at the old house and about her mother and other sisters and brothers. He was politely impressed when he learned that her father was Gray, a Herder who had won many local competitions.
Their friendship was an unusual one, by any standard. While Daisy felt very close to Jack emotionally, perhaps more so than she had ever felt to anyone before, they never touched. He never came close enough to even brush his shoulder against hers when they walked. The only time she had felt his skin on hers was that day when he had lifted her chin to stare into her eyes. Still, she could still feel the electric current jumping from his skin to hers and back, despite the distance. She thought that he could feel it, too, if the dark gazes that she felt on her from time to time were any indication.
After about a year of going on like this, Daisy had a jolt of reality that shattered any foolish fantasies she had managed to concoct. She had come to their room for bed somewhat earlier than Rosie that night and was laying on her bed thinking about Jack’s pale, yellow eyes with a pillow clutched to her chest. Rosie rushed into the room and abruptly told Daisy, “You need to leave, now.”
“What?” she asked, sitting up and pushing a strand of hair out of her face. “I was just-”
“You need to leave,” Rosie repeated, cutting her off. She was moving around the room quickly, tucking things into order and snatching up a brush to run through her hair. “Master has decided that it is time for me to begin bearing Hayl’s children.” Daisy’s breath caught and she studied her sister, but a slight tightening around her eyes was the only indication of how she felt about the situation.
“Rosie-” she began, but was cut off again.
“Leave, Daisy!” her sister snapped, spinning to face her. “I’m- we’re going to need some privacy. Just... find somewhere else to be tonight. Now.”
Slowly, Daisy rose and, taking her jacket from the peg by the door, left with one last lingering look at her sister who was staring at herself blankly in the mirror.
It became something of a ritual after that. Every third or fourth night, Rosie would shoo Daisy from the room with the announcement that Hayl was coming. Daisy generally spent the next hour or so with her sheep and then made her way back to the room, finding Rosie curled in a ball under her covers and unresponsive to any attempts Daisy made to speak to her. After the third night, Daisy stopped trying.
She told Jack about it on his next visit and confessed her secret fear of the time when it would be her turn for breeding with the Herder male. Jack stared at her as she wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. She didn’t think she had ever seen his expression that blank.
Rosie was quite pleased when, three months later, she found the first signs of pregnancy. A visit to Master Athanaric confirmed her finding and, to the relief of both Rosie and her sister, the visits from Hayl stopped.
Her sister was much more open about the situation, now that she was with child, and allowed Daisy to dote on her. In hushed tones, Rosie told her about her experiences with Hayl and the male’s apparent delight in causing her pain and degradation. Once, she had hung her head and sobbed softly as Daisy held her and stroked her back, making soothing hushing sounds as best she could. It was the first time she had seen her sister cry since they learned that they were being sold to the Master and it increased Daisy’s terror at the thought of her own breeding far worse than anything else could.
On the day that Rosie first had to seek out a larger tunic for her Herding duties, due to her swelling belly, the Master came to Daisy. She stared at him with ice in her veins as he told her that he would be sending Hayl to her that evening and warned her to be ready for him and sternly advised her that he would not tolerate any fighting. She was robotic as she guided her sheep out for grazing that day and had to snap at a few rambunctious ewes who took advantage of her distraction to wander.
It was the most welcome warmth that washed over her when Jack found her. The expression on his face told her that, somehow, he knew what the Master had told her. She was shocked when he did not stop at his customary distance, but came directly up to her, resting his hands on her shoulders and pressing his forehead to hers. “Daisy,” he whispered, brokenly.
This soft intonation of her name broke through the dams that she had hastily piled up to protect herself from the fear and sorrow of the day. Her hands raised of their own accord to press against his bare chest and her voice cracked as she replied, “Jack.” Then the tears started. He drew her into his arms and tenderly held her while she sobbed and shook, unmindful for the first time ever of her flock.
When the flood of emotion was finally again dammed, she drew a long, shaky breath and raised her eyes to his. His hand came up to cup her cheek tenderly and he surprised her again by pressing his lips softly to her forehead. “Daisy,” he murmured softly against her skin. “My Daisy.”
They were curled in the warm, tall grass, his arms around her protectively and his expression wrenching at her heart. His lips brushed her face again, just below her left eye. “I can’t stop this or protect you from him this time,” he said, as if admitting a great sin.
“I know,” she said, trying to sound at ease. “It’s not your fault, Jack. I’m just...” her throat tightened despite her efforts, “Rosie says that he’s horrid...”
The lines around Jack’s eyes hardened as his arms tightened around her. “My Daisy,” he whispered into her hair, “You are so sweet and gentle. You deserve so much better.” His hand trailed down her back and the electrical current was suddenly stronger than ever. His breath was hot on her skin as he pleaded, “Let me? Before he has you, let me show you better?”
Her skin felt hypersensitive as she formed the words to protest. The Master would never allow it. Hayl would know. There were so many reasons to restrain themselves. Instead, she heard herself answering, “Yes. Please.”
Under the warm sun, watched by the uninterested sheep, Jack made tender love to his Daisy. He was gentle and attentive, taking every effort to make it as pleasant an experience as possible for the young woman, because the night would be worse than she could have imagined.
No comments:
Post a Comment