Helpless

Writers: Bree, Eimi
Date Posted: 6th July 2006

Characters: Verora, Meijah
Description: Verora looses what is left of her sanity when Meijah leaves her alone for a few days.
Location: Garnet Valley Hold
Date: month 12, day 22 of Turn 3

By the time Meijah finally returned to the little cot in the hills, Verora had gone a little mad. It had started when she'd woken up to find him gone. Her initial elation--she was _free_ of him had given away all too quickly to suspicion.
Why would he leave her behind when he'd made such a point of telling her how much she was worth as a bargaining chip. She spent half the morning studying the surrounding forest and wondering if this was a test. Perhaps he was watching, waiting to see if she'd try to escape. She could envision it all too clearly--a first step into the woods, the slightest hint of freedom--

And then those hands, tightening around her arms until bruises rose in the shape of his fingers. That hateful voice, whispering things in her ears that made her knees weak. Sometimes from terror, and sometimes from something else entirely. She still didn't know which one was worse. Only when the gnawing ache in her stomach got too sharp to be ignored did she venture forth, only to realize that he'd taken all but a days worth of the food. Enough to keep her from starving--if he came back. Verora couldn't hunt. She couldn't have cooked her own food if she'd known _how_ to hunt. She ate as little as possible and wondered how far it was to the nearest cothold.

When dawn came on the second morning, she was awake and freezing. The wood was gone, but she was too scared to venture into the forest to find more.
The food dwindled and suspicion gave way to desperation. She couldn't live without him. Even if she could have reached the nearest cothold, she was a fugitive. She'd killed the Lord Holder of Garnet Valley Hold, and by now there was probably no one who didn't know it. Her trial would be swift and there would be no question about her punishment: death.

By nightfall of the second day, Verora would have given anything to feel Meijah's hands, or to hear his voice, or to have any indication that he hadn't left her alone to die as a punishment for not knowing how helpless she was. She fell asleep in a tangle of dusty blankets and quilts that night, shivering and hungry with tearstained cheeks and the sure knowledge that she truly could not live without Meijah. When she cried herself to sleep, she still didn't know if she was crying because she wanted Meijah or crying because she didn't want to need him.

The sun had just peaked over the horizon. He had figured it was safer to move in the dark. The former guard knew he would look too suspicious, especially carrying what he was carrying. Humans did not generally carry saddle bags like pack animals. Meijah kicked off his boots as he walked into the cot. He new Verora was probably still asleep. Throwing the stolen goods carelessly next to the door he made his way back to the little bedroom and began stripping off his tunic. It was still cool up in the mountains, even though spring had come to the lower elevations, but Meijah liked the cold. He did, however, want at least _one_ blanket. "I need some covers too, Verora," he said as he began pulling on one of the guilts she was wrapped in.

She awoke with a start, her eyes focusing on him slowly, as if she couldn't believe he was standing there. She stumbled from the bed, tripping over her own feet and ending up in a puddle of skirts and blankets at his feet. She didn't care. "You came back," she whispered, pressing her forehead against his leg as she let relief overcome her. "Shard it all woman, get up off the floor," he sighed as he side stepped her. "Of course I came back. You wouldn't survive without me. Now get back into bed."

Verora crawled back into the bed, the familiar knot in her stomach returning. She was so glad to see him that she didn't care if he snapped. Or did she? It was so hard to know what to feel, when gentle touches were lies and pain was honest. A hysterical sounding noise broke free of her lips when she realized that she was actually trying to decide if she liked having Meijah hurt her or not. "What are you laughing about?" he snorted as he lifted the blankets to slide between them. She shook her head and ignored caution, wrapping herself around him as soon as he was between the covers. She was freezing and he was warm and at least if he was rough with her or hurt her, she wouldn't have to feel so violently grateful that he was back anymore. Feeling her wrap her still most definitely female body around his, Meijah could feel himself become a bit more alert. "I would say you missed me," he murmured as he reached down and began inching her sleeping clothes higher with his fingers.

Verora didn't want to want him. She didn't want to feel the thrill as his hands brushed the skin of her legs. She didn't want to be excited by his need. She hated everything about it... and still her lips found his all too willingly.

Meijah had known Verora a long time, and he knew just how to touch her to take her breath away. He also knew how deliciously grateful she was to have him back. So, his little day trip scared her into her place. There was a time when she had been dominate, when he had been just a thug and she was the ambitious schemer. He had only been her stooge. But look at them now.
Now _he_ was the master over her and in more ways that she could ever have dreamed possible. He was master over her survival, master over her passions and her body, now he wanted to be master over her mind, over her very soul.

Rolling over on top of her he braced his hands on either side of her, surrounding her, looming over her. "Tell me that you were scared that I was never coming back."

She shuddered, her fingers digging into his side before moving to his back.
"I was terrified," she whispered brokenly. "I thought you were going to let me die." His lips curled into a sneer of a smile before he leaned down to take her throat in his teeth. With nips and kisses not quite rough enough to hurt, but enough to remind her that they could he let his mouth travel up until it reached her chin and stopped, pushing himself up to look down on her once more. "So you know now that you would die without me. You would die if I ever really left you."

The slightest bit of pride flashed in her eyes, struggling against the madness-inducing terror that she'd been living with for the past months.
When the words finally slipped from her lips, they were low and angry and desperate. "I need you."

His eyes were hard as he looked down into hers, just daring her to disagree with him. "You are nothing with out me."

She didn't need to answer. They both knew the truth now--and Verora would never be able to pretend again.

Last updated on the July 9th 2006

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Helpless