Blood And Stone

Chapter 40: Trust Among Enemies

The pitch-black paws moved along the stone streets, following its master's newest chambermaid, as the teeth of the beast nipped playfully at her backside. She gave a little yelp of pain before turning to glare at the beast. Though her current task was serious, Lyric could not keep the smile from curving her lips. Noir had been increasingly affectionate since she had regained the majority of her strength, choosing to divide her time equally between Lyric and Rissa. The wolf's insistence on accompanying Lyric had forced Rissa to give her much more freedom than the other slaves, allowing her to act as though she were a leader of sorts, though she held no real status or power.

Noir nuzzled Lyric's side, pressing her cold nose onto a hole that had been worn into the fabric from the handle of the cart she was pulling. Lyric continued to pull, ignoring Noir as she pleaded once again for Lyric to rest. Noir let out a pained whine as she threw her body onto the dirt as they reached the slight plateau halfway up the hill. Lyric's eyes nearly made their escape with the severity of their roll as she collapsed on the grass beside the wolf. Her hands found their way into her fur while she spoke. "For such a string wolf, you sure whine like a pup a great deal."

The indignant huff that left the wolf's muzzle emphasized the playful demeanor she felt while she dragged herself closer to Lyric, resting her chin in her lap. Lyric's head fell back against the cart, her fingers slipping down to Noir's chest to feel the scar that lay there. The long, jagged mark was raised, forcing her fur to look longer in that area, but it had healed nicely for being so infected. It would likely cause her pain as she aged, but that was typical of any scar. She was just glad to have this sweet animal beside her now, keeping her company as she pulled the bodies of the Sithaurian Guard up the hill. Though she had been permitted to bury them, she could not perform the burial that they deserved. She didn't have the status to execute it. So, she chose to take them to the top of the hill and bury them in the only way she could. It was a long, arduous task, but she was determined to lay them to rest.

Noir nipped at her fingers, bringing her attention back to her. "You are not helping pull the cart. They are my kin, I will do it. It's because of me that they lost their lives. It's my responsibility to give them the best burial I can." Noir's huff of protest did nothing to sway Lyric's opinion on the subject, much as it hadn't over the past few days. Instead, she chose to relax in the early afternoon sun, letting the warmth run through her. The weather had begun to chill, the wind carrying a bitter nip as it crossed their skin.

The two sat there, resting in the sun for a decent period before a shadow crossed their faces, forcing their eyes open again. Rissa stood in front of them, one hand holding a bundle of something wrapped in cloth and the other resting on her hip. Her silver eyes ran over the pair with irritation, causing Lyric to rise to her feet and mumble rushed apologies. "Aye, sit down with my Noir. She wants your company." Rissa spat as she pulled a freshly killed rabbit from the bundle and tossed it to the hungry wolf.

Rissa and Lyric both sat next to Noir, though Lyric attempted to put more distance between herself and the animal. Rissa pretended not to notice as she handed her a lump of bread and a thick piece of cheese. She had made it a habit to pretend to notice many different things about Lyric, finding it irritating how much the girl intrigued her. She sat by and watched as she healed her companion and accepted the girl's kindness when she was at her weakest. Despite her anger towards her, Rissa found herself spending time with her more often, Ce's insistence on seeing Lyric's point of view echoing in her mind daily.

As they sat, eating their food, neither of the women spoke. Lyric kept her eyes down, acknowledging her subservient role a little too easily for Rissa's liking. She had expected some fire from her, a little resistance, not total acceptance of her slavery. It was almost disheartening how reserved she was acting. Rissa stated at her, her eyes taking in the way her skin had started to tan from the exposure to the sun. She had been given so many tasks that required her to be outside that it was impossible to keep the pale luster she had gained from her time with the Sithaurians. A confusing pang of loss skirted through Rissa's chest, making her cough force the feeling away.