The Skabelse

Are You Daft?

As the hour passed, Rowan had almost gotten used to the men's pungent smell. They were awfully loud and as they indulged on spirits and mead it had only gotten worse. At her table sat herself, Tursa, the red headed man Falkstan, Bjorn, her fellow Sister Arabella whom she did not know that well and her mate Zolan. Both of the pairs of tributes had become to take a liking to one another and put her and Bjorn to shame. Arabella, like many of the other women she had noticed, was perched on top of Zolan's lap and giggled like a child at his every word. She rolled her eyes and wanted to retch her dinner that was served earlier in the evening.

Bjorn had watched Rowan and was quite amused. She had her arms tucked folded across her chest and glared at the sights around her. It irritated Bjorn as well but a small part of him had almost liked the fact that his paired tribute shared his disgust. He had ignored her purposefully in the beginning to show his lack of interest in not only her but the entire Skabelse itself. She only spoke when spoken to by the large blonde woman who led them here or when Falkstan would ask her a question. The other woman and Zolan had been caught up in their own conversation to even notice that four other's sat with them.

Another half hour passed and many of the men were drunk along with a small amount of the women. Bjorn looked across a few tables and spotted his friend Horan. You could tell her was desperately trying to make his chosen mate like him but by the scowl on her face he was failing miserably. It was then that he noticed the similarities on her face that matched Rowan's and he assumed them to be related as he studied her. Rowan noticed Bjorn looking back and forth to between Darsa and herself and answered the question he was wondering flatly, "Cousins."

Bjorn remained silent and threw back the rest of his ale not even sparing her another glance. It wasn't enough to get him drunk but it would warm his body and put him to sleep.  He usually detested spirits but he needed them more than ever on this night. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and retreated to the confines of his tent.

Rowan glared at her mate for once again ignoring her as he pushed through the large maroon flaps on their tent. It looked as if he was one of the only ones to be having a problem with the Daughter's presence. Everywhere she looked people were laughing or softly talking as they got to know each other and she wondered if there was something wrong with her and the thought slightly angered her. At least she was trying.

Rowan huffed and stood up from the table as well. "I'm going to bed," she said in a low voice to Tursa and made her way to where the raven haired boy had disappeared. She almost thought of announcing that she was coming in but thought against it. "It is my tent as well is it not?" she though, and stepped inside.

The first thing she noticed was the vastness of the structure. The tent looked quite large from the outside, but the abundance of space inside had surprised her. There was a large bed, a small table, two large trunks for storage, and a place to change. The second thing she noticed was the half naked man who sat on the corner of the bed. He was shirtless and had lose fitting pants on while sharpening his blade. Rowan couldn't help notice the strange markings on his torso that looked to be apart of his skin. She noticed that many of the men sported them but this was the first chance she got a close look. It was also the first time she had ever seen a man's bare chest and torso as well and couldn't help but notice how different it was. Where she had breasts, he lacked them and in their place was well defined muscle.

Bjorn felt the girl's eyes on him and he tried not to smile. "Do you have a staring problem or something?" he asked quite rudely as he looked up to meet her cobalt orbs. It was the first time she had heard his voice. It was deep and almost sounded dangerous. 

Rowan's mouth dropped open in astonishment and embarrassment. "You ask if I have a staring problem? Was that not you earlier as you could not keep your eyes to yourself?" she asked not faltering.

Bjorn could feel his face heat up slightly but said nothing as he continued taking care of his blade.

Rowan walked over to the small table in the room and took a seat, sighing, "Forgive me for lingering on you. I couldn't help but to notice that your body, is well, different from mine. I've never seen someone with a physique like yours."

Bjorn nodded once, "Thank you. I take pride in staying fit."

For a moment Rowan thought he was joking, but then scoffed at his incompetence when she realized he thought her to be serious. "Are you daft? I was talking about your strange markings and lack of breasts."

Her insult angered Bjorn. How dare she refer to me as being slow?! "Listen here Rowan," he spat her name like it was poison, "I am far from being daft as you are. I've taken it upon myself to notice that neither of us are fond of each other or this damned Skalbelse. Seeing as we have no choice in the matter I think it is best that we remain adversaries and only speak to one another when needed."

Rowan couldn't help but wince at his harsh words. Why, out of the other forty-nine men did she have to get the most cold hearted and uncouth one? They sat in silence for a moment before she responded, "Did I do something to offend you? Am I not attractive enough to please you? If that is the case I will be more than willing to see if Tursa will make arrangements to switch me for another."

For the first time Bjorn's face twisted from anger to guilt. He sighed and ran a hand through the his dark locks, "No, that wont be necessary. You did nothing to offend me personally. It's just that you're well, a woman."

Rowan nodded her head, understanding the reason behind his resentment. She watched him as he began to sharpen his blade again and became lost in thought.

It wasn't until he crawled into bed that she realized that she was tired herself. Quietly she left the tent and retrieved her bedroll from the base of the tree. She couldn't help but to notice that the camp had emptied and everyone had gone to their tents. She shivered at the chilly air and scurried back inside her own.

After she laid down on her bedroll at the bottom of the bed, she could only focus on the sound of Bjorn's breaths. They were deep and rhythmic, letting Rowan know her mate was asleep. Much time passed before she herself could fall asleep.

Sometime during the night Bjorn had awakened and he sat up rubbing his eyes. He looked to his right expecting to find the beautiful women by his side and was surprised when he did not. He checked the floors and found her at the edge of he bed sleeping on her bedroll. He noticed that she didn't bother to change into nightclothes and remained in her armor. Her face was quite peaceful and she looked younger than she really was. Just then she mumbled something in her sleep and he almost smiled.

He decided to check on the encampment and stepped outside, then shivered as the damp air caressed his bare skin and entered the tent once more. It would be dawn soon so he decided to get ready for the day.