Inked

8

The new fire filled him with a warmth unlike any he had felt before. Farid felt so strong, so invincible as he coaxed the fire into the unique forms Soleil had taught him. Of course, he had had to coax Soleil to tell him how.

The girl stood a few feet away, correcting him if he messed up, though as the hours wore on, she had to correct him less and less.

Farid had never felt this way while learning from Dustfinger. The fire had always enticed him, intrigued him, but it had never made him feel so powerful. Even after they had returned to the camp, Farid could not wipe the smile off his face. Meggie, on the other hand, only regarded him with disdain, though his confidence clouded any guilt he felt.

"Thank you," he told Soleil as they entered the circle of robbers' tents. He had an impulse to plant a quick kiss on her cheek, but the Bluejay was watching them, and Farid feared him a lot more than Meggie.

Soleil and Farid parted ways, and Farid could still feel warmth spreading from his head to his fingertips, though he couldn't tell whether it was from his newfound ability or something else. Or perhaps it was both.

"Where have you been?" Farid could taste the false sweetness in her voice.

Meggie would not ruin his mood now. He really didn't want to deal with her at the moment. In fact, he wasn't quite sure how much he even cared for her anymore. Just last night he had wanted to impress her, but the new fire replaced those feelings, those foolish longings. Maybe their love had been solely based on fear and not real attraction. After all, fear had been a constant in their lives for quite some time.

Forcing himself to be patient, to look into her eyes and act like he cared, at least so he wouldn't be slapped, Farid answered, "Soleil just so happens to be a fire-eater -- I know, strange, huh?" He misinterpreted Meggie's incredulous look.

"She was just teaching me a few tricks Dustfinger hasn't taught me."

"And I'm guessing you taught her a few of your own," Meggie muttered, and Farid had to take a deep breath to keep from exploding.

"And how has your day been?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Wonderful," Meggie said tersely. "I helped Roxane prepare a balm for the bear's dry skin, Jehan and I gathered nuts and berries, and Doria took me to see the sun set behind the castle." Farid narrowed his eyes at the sound of Doria's name, but he didn't press the subject any further.

"How... wonderful," he managed to say. Meggie, feeling she had succeeded in making him uncomfortable, smiled broadly, and Farid hated it all, that beautiful smile and that voice that had made him fall for her in the first place. Meggie placed her hands on either side of his face and brought it to hers. Farid, sensing all eyes on them -- after all, they were standing in the middle of the camp -- returned her affection, although its credibility was questionable.

Meggie strode away, glaring at a cool but confused Soleil and ignoring a hurt and jealous Doria, leaving Farid baffled and perplexed and flabbergasted and befuddled and whatever other words Fenoglio had in his old head to describe the feeling.