bytheblood | (no subject)

Bandits were one thing. Taneris had probably killed a hundred bandits in his travels, small-time thugs looking to rob anybody who crossed their paths. They seemed to attack more frequently now that he was with Cordelia, for whatever reason. Perhaps they underestimated the fighting prowess of a mermaid and a man who only looked like any given drifter in any given tavern.

But the ones today were different. They were no ordinary bandits, but trained soldiers. What was usually a minor inconvenience turned into a near-disaster and it was only by sheer luck that he and Cory escaped with their lives. He'd gotten a little banged up in the fight, but his wounds were bandaged, and Cory seemed none the worse for wear.

He couldn't just shrug it off this time, for whatever reason.

Their camp was by a deep stream running off into the woods from a spring, to accommodate Cory. She was behind him, bathing from the sounds of it, and he was stoically, resolutely refusing to turn that way until she was through and clothed. Instead he stared at the campfire in front of him, feeling annoyingly somber about the day's events.

Any minute now, Cory was certain to notice. She'd gotten very good at seeing through his quieter moods as of late. That was annoying in its own, warm, special, stomach-tightening kind of way.

"You're sure you're not hurt?" He spoke over his shoulder. "It looked like you took an arrow back there."

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Cordelia could guess at why they got attacked so often - when her sisters (metaphorical and literal) went up to the surface, they were always warned about slavers. Mermaids fetched high prices on black markets, and the scales from their tails were said to be a cure for aging. Put those two things together, and she was a walking moneybag in the eyes of some.

At least Taneris had been there. Secretly, she doubted she would have gotten out of that ambush without him, no matter how prepared she was. She could handle herself in a fight, most days, but the land was still awkward for her, and it had been nearly a full twelve hours since she'd gotten into some water. She wasn't exactly operating at peak efficiency.

At least now she's got a deep stream. She'd almost leaped into the water, her clothes completely abandoned by the side of it (read: her shirt, completely abandoned) happily washing her hair and splashing her tail around.

"It just grazed my shoulder," she calls over said shoulder, flipping her tail up and down in the water. Really, she knew full well why Taneris was being so grumbly about it - she'd taken that arrow for him. He hadn't noticed the man in the trees, so Cory had been forced to toss her spear. It had gotten him, but he'd let the arrow loose in the process. And since he'd turned to look at her - yeah.

Still, it really had just grazed her. Kind of. It had gotten into her, but only surface deep. Well, a little deep, but her arm was fine. "The water's doing wonders for it anyway, see?" Cordelia adds, swimming to the side of the stream and placing her palms flat on the bank, lifting her upper half out of the water so he can see her shoulder, the wound already starting to close a little.

And her breasts are hanging out, but they're just there. She isn't even pushing them up, or anything. Men can be so jumpy about that kind of thing.

"Yes. I imagine it is." He rolls his eyes at the sound of the splash, and smiles, despite himself. He can picture the precise way she's posing right now, half out of the water, topless, and probably preening about it. And since he knows exactly how she looks behind him, she knows he certainly won't turn around to look at her.

It's not that she's "shameless..." That word hardly means anything to a man who sells his sword. It's that he knows better than to put a real image to a body he's increasingly found himself imagining when he has a minute. And neither of them need that.

"I hope we never cut it that close again," he says. "It's not right for you to be getting hurt on my behalf." He'd long since stopped badgering her for money to escort her on her travels, but it was still the principle of the thing.

"I'm..." Long pause, as he gears himself up for it. "Sorry. That you were hurt. I underestimated them."

She definitely is preening - making sure her wet hair is tossed over her shoulder in just the right way. When he refuses to turn around, she huffs.

"You're just embarrassed," Cordelia says, posing at the edge of the water for a moment longer before finally giving up and returning to her bath. "About seeing me, and about someone else doing something for you. It's cute to see a man your age acting so boyish, but you really could relax."

She runs her hands through her hair, not that he can see, letting the clear water of the stream wash the dirt and grime and, yes, blood, out. "But I don't like close calls either! And no matter how cute your whole stoic act is, you're much cuter when you're at ease. So I agree. We should be more careful from now on."

He scoffs. This would be the part where he mocks the idea of being embarrassed, but she's called him out on both possible counts before he can even protest. Has he really become that transparent for her? Skies, that's the thing that's embarrassing.

"I was complacent. But I won't let it happen again." Taneris stirs the fire in front of him with a long stick.

With a sigh, his shoulders sag, and it seems he may finally be ready to let the whole thing go. He really ought to. They're both safe, and it was perhaps the wakeup call he needed not to take his prowess in a fight for granted, particularly when there's someone else along for the ride.

A minute or so later, he's at it again. Though the subject's changed.

"You know, most people would think it's dangerous to flirt with an armed, rugged vagrant. Particularly not when you're a lovely young beauty like yourself. He might take you seriously."

"Most women would, however, think it's quite natural to flirt with a rugged, handsome man who's saved your life at least a half-dozen times. Particularly when he could probably use the attention," she immediately counters.

They've been going back and forth like this for half the continent - there's something a bit more insistent in Cordelia's tone, this time, but outside of that there's barely any difference.

"Though you'd be a bit less vagrant-like if you took more baths. The water's nice! And for a man your size, barely a puddle. Or are you embarrassed about not being able to swim, too?"

"My poor, pretty maiden." That draws a laugh out of him. "You really needn't worry about what kind of attention I could use. That implies things."

He sets down the stick and turns his attention to dealing with his long, thick hair, nimbly setting to braiding it into a more manageable state. It keeps his hands busy. Keeps him from the temptation to turn around and take her up on that. Whatever his stubborn, and quickly fading reasoning is, that's the best way to distract himself from it.

"I'd get hip-deep in that water, panic, and you'd have to save me from drowning. I think you've rescued me more than enough for one day. Not to mention I've only so much dignity left to lose today."