The Necronomicon

Chapter Ten

As the next day dawned bright and early, Meredith groaned. She had been up for two hours already, walking, and she glared frostily at Frederick's back. Her knapsack was heavy on her back, as it now contained a few more items Frederick had lent her: a bow, and a quiver full of arrows.

She groaned audibly, eyes on Frederick, hoping he'd see sense and forbid her from trying, but he ignored her completely.

Since he'd told her to change and wash her hair (and insulted her gravely), she'd flatly refused to speak to him. But when he'd silently handed her some soap, and conveniently left some fur out, she'd waited until he'd gone off somewhere (probably searching for food) before scrubbing her grimy body clean in the river. She'd laughed as she did this, thinking she was manipulating Frederick as she used the fur as a towel.

Meredith had discarded the now wet fur, and had changed into another magnificent dress — one of her red ones, that at times she found too much. But she'd felt particularly vivacious, and thought red suited her mood.

Now here she was, a short sleep later, following Frederick as he located a good place for them to hunt. "Meredith, you don't need to stay with me. You can walk on, do whatever you're doing, alone," He smiled graciously.

"I know."

"But I think that you need me, Meredith," He continued.

"I don't," She assured him, and he laughed.

"Well, if you insist on walking on alone, I must first show you how to hunt. You don't want to starve to death."

He was a fast walker, even when carrying so much on his back. She struggled to keep up with him, nearly colliding with him as he abruptly stopped. "Here," He said. "Take out the bow and arrows I gave you." Instead of helping her get them out, he picked up some mud from the forest floor and slathered it over a tree trunk, attempting to form a target.

"What's that?" She asked, chucking her bow on the ground.

He turned around. She hated how perfect his hair looked when she knew hers was a mess from sleeping in the grass. "You're going to try and hit it. The bullseye." When Meredith raised her eyebrows, he expanded. "The middle."

"I know that," She replied, even though she hadn't. He smirked quietly, but didn't make any further comment. She shot a glance at him, infuriated when she saw his eyes weren't on her. Instead they were firmly trained on the target.

"How do I —" She began, bending down to pick up her bow, the skirt of her dress sticking to the mud. "My dress!" She complained, sighing, and he shrugged.

"Should've worn a less fancy one, then," He retorted, standing and coming over to her. He stood directly behind her, and she clutched the bow helplessly. "Here, let me help you." He said, reaching around her as if to hug her, his hands resting lightly on hers.

Meredith let him guide her, his hands startlingly warm as they moved one of hers to the string of the bow, and the other to the front. He pulled one of her arms back, and using her other one slotted an arrow in. "I'm going to let go now," He told her softly, his taut muscles relaxing as they let go. "All you need is to release, here," He tapped one of her hands gently. "And aim."

Without his guidance, her arms wobbled, her mind cloudy, but she attempted to steady herself. Breathing fairly quickly, she raised her arms confidently, and let go.

Her arrow missed the tree by miles, almost a 50 degree angle off.

Frederick howled with laughter, and she reddened. "It's not like you can do any better," She challenged him, and he raised his eyebrows.