Westward

Chapter 6

////Drama much??? Aowyn is a little whiny bitch doncha think??? If you don't think that already you will by the end of this chapter. Hints of heterosexuality.////

Aowyn woke to an aching side and stinging hands and feet. Her mouth was dry as parchment and her toungue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Legs throbbing and with bruises most likely, hair stuck to her sweaty forehead. Her hands hurt but felt compressed and warm, the same with her feet. A damp blanket was spread over her body which should have sent chills, but Aowyn realized that she wasn't cold at all. In fact, slightly warm.

It took a moment to get oriented again. To remember the terrible deaths of her family and the wounded hands and feet. How that guard, Jay, had rescued her. How all those stars had driven her to darkness.
Aowyn smelled the tang of bitter pine needles that was pleasantly faint. A sweet scent of blackberries was stronger though. It filled the air around her so far that she could practically taste the ripe juices that oozed out to her toungue, the miniscule seeds getting caught in her teeth, the connecting bubbles of bitter sweet bursts. Her mouth watered as she opened her eyes, finding the urge to resist the twitches of her fingers.
Jay was sitting on a log, knees almost up to his chin. Hands clutched together in front. Face heart-shaped and pale as ever yet it glowed yellow in the light of the fire in front of him. He had taken off the outer jacket that held his ranking pin, leaving a pale blue shirt that seemed a bit baggy on him. Eyes looked focused but nervous, and reflected hot coals that burned a foot away. He had not noticed that she was awake again. She was not eager to reveal.
There was no flame in the sticks and pinecones, only orange glows from beneath and cinders surrounding it, edged in white ashes. A fuzzy warmth emanated from it that reminded her of home. This felt like a welcome home present from the misery she had gone through.
In a quick motion that made Jay jump, Aowyn sat up, pushed off the damp jacket. Her hands, she realized were wrapped in a torn blue cloth, blood spots appeared on the palm side which were curled into a near fist. Aowyn stared at Jay awakwardly eyes wide, waiting for explanation. His expression was no less stunned. Eyebrows had shot up and he sat straighter, staring at her like she had sprouted horns.
"What happened?" She asked, stupidly gulping down saliva. He pursed his lips as his gaze darted back to the coals, appearing to be trying to stifle his surprise.
"Miss Dulay..." He was looking like he wanted to go to her but didn't know how to approach. She peered into his face, just as confused as ever. Now where was she?
"Well, I stole the mare as the dogs seemed to sense us. They came running just as you passed out. We crossed the river at the bottom of the mountain and the hounds stopped. This point here," he waved his hand out in no peculiar direction, "seemed the best place to stop." Aowyn raised an eyebrow and peered around their camp. An overhang of branches made a nice cover for and snow though the lightly coloured dirt suggested little rainfall. About ten yards from her feet, solid ground stopped and dropped off for, what looked like, quite a bit. A cliff. She frowned, thinking.
A palomino mare stood off to the side, a bag of oats hooked to its muzzle. A rope was wrapped three times around a pine trunk and tied intricately to the halter. It had a streak of blood on its flank but did not seem to have a cut. The hounds?
Aowyn held up her her cloth covered hands, trying not to stare awkwardly at Jay as he prodded at the coals with a stick.
"How long has it been?" She asked. Maybe they had only left The Blue Prison a couple of hours ago?
"Well we got here this morning. You've been passed out with high fever this whole day." A whole day. Jay squinted at her and smiled with only one side of his mouth. " Asleep is the only time I have ever seen you not in some kind of pain." Aowyn's nostrils flared as she felt a sort of resentment towards him even though he had just saved her.
" Well that is likely enough, knowing that you haven't seen me much." She snapped. "Is the fever broke?" She felt her forehead even though she couldn't tell herself, it felt hot though. Jay threw down the stick with the charred end and looked up, a grim expression carved into the tired lines.
"The last time I checked, no. I tried to cool your body with the wet cloth, but it may not work." Aowyn curled her lip and bit the tip of her toungue. She was indeed very hot.
She started to try and unwrap her hands, it was nearly impossible without fingers. Jay reached out and started to unwrap them himself.
Aowyn did not like this sudden show of affection.
She squinted at him but did not complain as he peeled the last of the material off her hands. The cuts were scabbed and rough, bumps of dried blood crusting each line of pain. Stiff and tingling, Aowyn found that her fingers were trying to twitch. Clenching her teeth against the pain she halted the spasms, nerves sensitive to every movement.
Jay held her hands tenderly, examining them as if the thing in his hands were a wounded chick. So gentle, opposed to the stoic and merciless guard that he hid behind so much.
"What happened before I passed out? There was sombody screaming." She asked. Aowyn peered through her lashes at him. He furrowed his brow in confusion, continuing to examine her fingers.
"I didn't hear anybody scream. The only sounds were the dogs barking." He looked concerned. Not the fake sympathetic kind. Actually worried. " You were clawing at your head though, and crying. Maybe it's just the fever." Aowyn remembered the agony and the screams. Suddenly becoming scared. Scared that this would happen again. Scared that it wasn't fever. Scared that somthing was wrong with her. She pushed the fears back.
"I'm sorry you had to carry me. Why were you limping though?" She sucked a chunk of hair that had fluttered near her mouth, hoping the story was short.
"Are you sure you want to hear?"
"Yes."
"To skim over a couple of details, the Sarasonians visited our village about six months ago. You can probably guess how that turned out. I got shot in the side with one of those newfangled rifles." He lifted his shirt a bit to reveal a enourmous blot of purple and blue bruises on the side of his abdomen. Near the center, was a scarred spot about an inch wide, it was sewn together with cerulean blue thread that matched the bruises surrounding it. Aowyn gasped in quiet horror at the bullet wound, cupping an aching hand to her lips.
"Oh. I'm sorry. How did you survive?" He raised his eyebrows at her and sighed through his teeth.
"Well, I actually don't know the whole story. Apparently, I had lost consciousness from blood loss. Somehow, by bittersweet coincidence, the Narcians found my mother and I. She, I assume, is dead. They...healed me, and I became a consul guard. He is, as you may remember, not very forgiving."
They were both silent for a couple of seconds. Aowyn remembered the gruesome beatings.
"Why did you help me escape? You could have just saved yourself." Aowyn banished the depressing thoughts behind. Slowly drawing back her hands to be tucked in her dress. She felt his calloused skin slide over hers and wondered if it was normal to continue feeling the shadow of his hands on hers. The impression did not fade from her nerves.
"I told you. To erase our scars." Aowyn's eyes automatically darted back to her own scabbed hands. "No. Not those ones." He drew his lips into a tight line and moved back to the log he had sat on before, drawing his knees up.
" Other than these, I don't have any more scars." Aowyn murmured, still staring at the mangled mess of skin. "I mean, there are small ones, but... That's not what you are talking about, is it?" She bit her lip and moved her legs away from the coals, sitting up in a way that didn't bring back the pain of the bruises on her hip. She tucked her feet away, careful not to irritate the wounds. Aowyn thought that she knew what he meant.
"I have as many scars as you do. Some physical, some mental. And some from being with certain people. You have it even worse, so I've heard. That's why I rescued you. It'll take a while to heal. All the soil to clean out' . All those memories to be overlaid. That's why I rescued us." Aowyn sat in silence, trying to digest these words.
"Time will never heal a dead girl's scars. They only turn to dust." She whispered. "I will never heal. Never forgive. Nobody will love me or remember me. Nor you. We are gone to the world."
Jay turned his head down, nostrils flaring. Aowyn realized how hurtful this must have sounded. She didn't care.
"The point of the escape was to save us both from just that. Sombody will remember you. Sombody will care. We can walk together until we reach that point."
Aowyn was silent. Struck by his words like a stone to her head. Something about it seemed worth fighting for but felt too unattainable. They were wanted by the second strongest military. They were in the middle of practically nowhere. They were sick and hurt and unwanted. How could anything like that work? He was too optimistic, overcome by the stories that told of the loved and powerful, blinded to the solid truth of reality that it would never happen. Or maybe she was the one who was blinded by grief. Nothing made sense anymore in her head.
"Whatever walks in my heart will walk alone." Aowyn snapped, tears pricking her eyes. She turned away, suddenly starting to breathe hard, not knowing why she felt so angry at him.
" I know how it is, but you are not bound to the loss and silence. I've felt it too." Aowyn flipped around and gave a watery glare.
"Stop saying 'I know how you feel' how can anybody know how another feels?" Her voice broke as she realized that her brother had once said that same thing. "Sorry, I'm just being ornery. I don't even know what my own thoughts are telling me. Even I can't explain how I feel anymore, everything is just so messed up, that even I don't understand them."
Pressing her knuckles to her eyes, sqeezing away the tears of frustration. Frustration for everything living and dead, the dark trees above, the hard earth beneath, that city that lies down somwhere across the mount, and for the man before her.
"Stop it." He commanded too softly, yet she listened with full ears and heart.
"What?" Aowyn whimpered.
"Stop being that helpless, weak, confused, little girl. I know you more than you may realize. Be yourself." Jay jabbed a finger at her, becoming serious.
Aowyn drew back.
"Who are you to tell me how to act!" She retorted, voice raising to top his.
"I don't even know who I am anymore! When you have lived long enough to hear the sound of a gun, long enough to watch your friend betray you, long enough to feel your mind be severed by grief, you are never the same person." Aowyn realized that she had stood up. Her feet stung so badly that she almost crumbled.
Suddenly, a scream shook through her body, ripping through the muscles and flesh, it tore into her skull. Gripping her ears, she stumbled back, feeling numbly the pain of her feet. Sound pounded into her ears, just as loud as with her hands clapped over ears as not. Aowyn broke to her knees.
Jay was there in a flash, kneeled in front of her and gripping her bruised shoulder.
The screams went on.
She was sobbing now, fingernails scraping at her cheeks, leaving streaks of hurt down her face. Jay was trying to pry Aowyn's hands away, peeling each finger off her sticky cheek.
The screams went on.
She could feel every nerve in her body, buzzing with anticipation of pain. He gripped her hands together do that she wouldn't go on hurting herself.
The screams went on.
Her throat hurt, and Aowyn hardly realized that she was screaming, she would just keep doing it until her throat bled, until nobody cared, until the earth was burning up.
The screams faded into a whimper, stabbing her mind every time. Aowyn went on sobbing, no longer struggling to free her hands.
"Why is this happening to me? It's so loud..." Jay was muttering somthing, and then released her hands. Aowyn held them up to the sky, head down; letting the hot tears roll off her cheeks. Asking silently for forgiveness for whatever she had done to deserve this.