The Skabelse

Letting It Out

Three days had passed before Rowan visited Ubba and he removed her sutures. She was in disbelief at how quickly her wounds healed. Only dark pink scars remained where there had been four deep gashes five days ago. "What is this medicine?" Rowan asked as she examined the left over paste he had given her. "The plant is only native to the Venetian forest and people pay a great price to have it's leaves. I mix it with some of my own medicine and it serves as a major healing remedy. We are very lucky that it grows so abundantly by the creek," he had answered. Rowan made sure to bring some back with her when she returned to the Glade.

Over the past few days Rowan had helped with what chores she could, falling into an uninteresting and tiresome pattern. She would rise early and help prepare and serve breakfast, then clean all of the dishes and start on lunch. Afterwards she would to wash her soiled clothes and hung them to dry with the others, then help prepare the remaining meals. She attempted to speak with Darsa numerous times when she would sit with her and the others to eat, only to practically be ignored by her. She was too busy speaking to Horan and the others to pay any attention to her cousin. Rowan noticed that Darsa had changed drastically ever since their run in with the bear; it was like she was  a different person. No longer did she complain or bicker with her mate, instead she was always blushing and following him around like a chick would to it's mother hen. Rowan realized that the majority of the woman had come to act in such a way and was curious as to why. Were they falling ill? Had the men of Rorik somehow bewitched them? Would this happen to her soon?

These were her thought's as Rowan washed her and Bjorn's clothes the frigid creek following day. She tried her best to keep those strange feelings she had felt from returning so she only spoke to him when necessary. At first Bjorn kept trying to figure out what was wrong  and attempted to joke around her, but he could tell that he was forcing herself to laugh and knew she was keeping herself busy to avoid him and decided to just leave her alone. It hurt him more than it should have, and he found himself confiding with his cousin one night as they hunted for meat in the forest. They were lucky and had shot a few deer with a bow. "She will come around just give her time," Horan had told him as they cleaned the animals. "I hope so," Bjorn replied, and that was the end of the matter.

Suddenly she heard someone come up behind her and she whipped around, automatically reaching for her absent blade. "Oh, it's just you," Rowan said as she recognized it was just Darsa. She held a large bundle of clothing and looked surprised at the way Rowan had reacted.

"Of course it is me. Who else would it be?" Darsa asked as she walked next to Rowan and started scrubbing her and Horan's clothes.

"I figured it would be anyone but you," Rowan retorted, not looking over to see her cousin's reaction. She had grown lonely over the past week and she knew she was being rather harsh to her but at the moment she was too angry with her to care.

Darsa's mouth fell open as she shot daggers at her, "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Rowan gave her a shrug, "Why don't you ask Horan?"

Again Darsa's mouth fell open as she could not believe the word's coming out of her cousins mouth. Sure they had had silly arguments growing up but this one was something entirely different.

"Excuse me?" Darsa asked, astonished.

Rowan refused to meet her eye and only scrubbed at the stain on Bjorn's shirt. "All I am saying is that you act like a child who has received a new toy and Horan is the toy I speak of. So why don't you continue to play and run along and let the adults do their bidding." She knew the words sting her cousin and she didn't even know why she said such a thing. After all Darsa was almost two years her superior and Rowan hardly felt like an adult half the time.

"Maybe if you actually spent time with your mate instead of trying to avoid him you would understand," Darsa spat, then quickly collected the bundle of clothes and walked a few yards down the creek and joined a group of women washing as well, leaving Rowan alone once again.

She growled and threw the shirt she had been scrubbing into the creek, splashing herself in the process. She sighed and ran a hand through her silver hair. What she wanted more than anything was to swing her sword around to release all of the pent up emotions until she was tired and could barley walk. Anytime she ever needed to clear her head she knew she could always rely on it to be there for her. But now she couldn't even do that.

Huffing, she snatched the shirt from the water and quickly scrubbed the rest, then hung them by her tent. She looked and spotted Bjorn climbing down a make shift ladder and desperately wished she could confide in him with her troubles. So great was the urge to run to him and pull him away and rant, but she knew she needed to stay away from him if she were to suppress the strange feelings she had gained towards him.

Sighing, she trudged back over to the elaborate pavilion where the food was prepared and helped with dinner.

An hour later and a half later, Tursa, Rowan and Drekka and single-handedly prepared dinner for the one hundred tributes. As they served their meals Rowan noticed Darsa and purposefully avoided eye contact and did not acknowledge her cousin.

"I think I'll eat now if that's okay," Rowan muttered as she grabbed a plate, not waiting for an answer. She didn't want to sit with her cousin or anyone for that matter so she brought her food back to her tent and at in silence at the small table.

She didn't hear Bjorn enter the tent and almost jumped when she heard him clear his throat. She turned around and saw him standing there with a plate in one and and a metal tanker in the other.

"I didn't see you with the others so I figured you be in here," he said, the raised his plate and cup up, "Mind if I join you?"

Rowan looked up and down, then slowly nodded her head. She knew she wouldn't be able to avoid him for ever.

Bjorn half-smiled and took a seat across from Rowan. I'm the firelight her scar looked more prominent, but he only found it more fitting and unique to her as it suited her face, almost looking like war paint.

They sat in silence as they ate their food, when Bjorn could no longer take  being ignored. "You're not okay, are you?" It came off more as a statement then a question. For the first time in days she meet his gaze and shook her head, "No," she said softly.