The Taming

So Little Sympathy

"Your deep sympathy is overwhelming." His tone was dry.

"I'm not sympathetic." She said as acidly as usual.

"Aren't you sweet."

Approaching quickly, she drew near enough to see his face. Once his vibrant blue-green eyes were visible, she flicked her eyes red to better see in the dark. Letting her animal take in the sight of him. She could now see the claw marks tearing his skin from his chin up the side of his face.

He didn't move. Unafraid of her despite her past aggressiveness.

"Are you okay?" She asked urgently. Without realizing what she was doing, she'd grabbed his square jaw and angled it down to her, so she could better inspect his injuries.

Your hands are warm.

Put them lower. It'll make me feel better. But he was too tired to banter.

"She scratched me when she realized what I'd done to the dram."

"Looks like she did a good job." She turned his face to the other side to see the wounds from a different angle. Murmuring thoughtfully, "You healed right away when I did this to you."

"Yes, but then I wasn't using my magic to maintain a disguise, cloak her panicked screams, and fight the effects of the poison myself."

"Poisoning a woman, were you. Is that why she was screaming?"

Her off-handedly accusing tone was not lost on him.

But he was too tired this moment, to adequately defend his honor.

She should know better.

She's the only one I ever think about undressing.

Without meaning to, my eyes dropped lower. Trying to get a glimpse of the alluring bit of cleavage her pretty dress left unattended.

Elsabet's hand trailed the path of the wounds down his neck, and she absentmindedly began shoving at the cloak on him to part the lacings. Chasing the slashes over his collar and disappearing from sight under his tunic.

His brows lifted in interest. Yes...

Lower...

Her nimble fingers made short work of his shirt lacings.

Getting warmer. He felt the swirl of eagerness. Wondering how low her inspection might go.

One can hope.

"Finally." He said with a weak grin. Unable to hide his hopeful amusement any longer.

She only gave him a partly annoyed glance, but didn't slow her mission.

Seeing the hint of worry marking her pretty brow, he felt the need to stop her from finding where it got very deep along the side of his ribs.

He lightly swatted her hand away. "Cease woman. You're not to be stripping me when I'm too weak to fully appreciate it."

She didn't acknowledge that either, gaze fixated on where scar lines thickened as they disappeared under his customary white tunic.

"Will you be scarred forever?"

Who knows?

"I haven't the faintest. I've never drank poison afore to know how it effects my healing."

Or prevents it.

She was gnawing her lip as her eyes trailed the marks on his face. Her palm lingering over the raised scar on his upper chest.

Her touch is warm. He started to lean into it, nearly purring as it soothed the ache in his muscles. He stared down his nose at her. Eyes glowing slightly under the hood.

"That look of worry on your lovely face is not quite doing the trick for me either. Perhaps some strawberries might change it to something more interesting?"

He suspected goading her would banish her fears.

He smiled at the memory of her on her toes kissing him the last time she'd had strawberry wine.

I'd certainly take a bit more of that.

She glared up at him. "You're not amusing!"

"As you've told me." He sighed.

"Who hurts you so?" She demanded. Tiny hands fisting at her sides.

"You. Always refusing plump, ripe, sweet strawberries. Pastries, cakes, everything I spend so much effort finding for you...It wounds my fragile heart..." He feigned a forlorn tone.

I'd dearly love to see that sweet reaction again.

"You'll not fool me again." She dismissed with a dark look. Unamused by his attempts to be playful.

But she is showing less interest in my wounds, the longer I annoy her.

That thought made him laugh roughly in a raw throat.

"Who harmed you?" She demanded again. Tugging at his shirt so roughly, he rocked forward and back. Her face was inches from his chest, and he was highly tempted to catch the back of her head and press her lips to his skin.

Would she kiss me? Or bite me? He decided the latter was more likely.

"Why?" He grinned in the dark. "Would you defend me? Leap at the chance to take on my attackers?"

Gaze falling, she took a step back. Taking away that warm touch.

"I-I-" Her eyes scanned the floor rapidly. "No. I..."

She turned and began walking away. Aborting whatever she'd nearly confessed.

Leaving him a bit disappointed.

She'd almost admitted it.

"Run girl. Run." He said playfully. Shaking his head.

"I'm not running." Whipping around, she marched back. "Why do you always accuse me of that?"

He met her charging steps to tower over her.

"Why do you always flee from me?" Swaying forward he dropped his face down to hers. Nearly nose-to-nose.

"I-" She huffed. "I" She bit her cheek. "I...do not."

"Aye. You do."

"It's not cowardice!"

"Aye. It is. Raw fear. And arousal."

"It's not!" She shook a finger in his face.

"It is." His chin lifted to look back down his nose. Eyes burning gold as he whispered. "I can smell it."

Her face was shocked. Eyes saucers. "Do you taunt me?"

Usually.

"Some." He shrugged. "But I speak the truth nonetheless."

"Who-who's the cat?" She desperately changed the subject.

"Cat? I've many cats."

"The big one. Black."

"The panther?"

"Is that what it is?" Her face was awestruck. "He's beautiful."

"Yes." Bast smirked. "He is. What've you named him?"

"I do not name things! Naming things means you care for them."

"And caring for them implies weakness." He faked her voice. Shaking his head as quick as he could, in mock horror.

She nodded stiffly. Teeth gritted.

No shred of sense of humor now.

Where's the girl that would hide my brandy from me?

"So..." He said patiently. "What've you named it?"

She glowered.