Silk strands of raven hair flitted across her chin as she gathered the small woman in her arms. Her body was small but by no means frail. Her muscles stood beneath her skin, hard as stone, unwavering even as she relaxed against Rissa's chest. Her skin was so soft that it made her seem as if she were nothing but a specter, a light fleeting wisp of mist in the cool, night air. The firelight danced along the outline of her face, glowing golden in the dark. The woman's face was relaxed, her breathing soft and warm. She peacefully snoozed as Rissa stared down at her. Her soft curves were as comfortable as they were enticing, bringing Rissa's heart rate up another notch.
How could this be? How could such a beautiful young woman want such a battle-hardened warrior such as herself? The scar that ran along her face did most of the talking for her but, what it failed to say, her eyes always shouted. Rissa watched the indentation in the woman's skin as she ran her fingers down along her arm. Her skin was as pale as fresh milk and smelled delightfully sweet. Even after a hard day's work, this beauty always smelled sweet. You would never find a sour scent on her.
The woman's eyes trembled slightly as Rissa's finger traced a purple mark on her neck. She couldn't help but smile, her mark for the world to see on this girl was more than enough to prove that she was the luckiest warrior in the land. "You smile far too much at my unconsciousness." That warm honey voice reached Rissa's ears and forced her smile to widen.
"How can I resist a smile when gazing upon the Gods' greatest creation?" Rissa leaned down and kissed her gently on the forehead.
"You daft twit." Rissa pulled her head back in shock. "Stand still you rumpled ass!"
"Excuse me?"
"If you'll not stand still, I'll have to shove it through you!" Rissa cocked her head in confusion. The honey had melted from her voice, leaving it low and rattled. A harsh groan of a thing that could make even the thunder sound like music. "I'll strangle ye till ye eyes pop free from ye skull!"
"Honey...." The maiden sat up in Rissa's arms, her eyes wide and flickering. Flames danced from inside her, darkness and power that choked the words from Rissa's mind. The woman's jaw dropped, stretching her skin to impossible lengths. It caught her jawbone, leaving it dangling by the tight skin. It paused only for a moment before it began to tear, blood pouring from her beloved's sweet face. A scream erupted from her throat, the demons of hell screeching out in the night. Rissa covered her ears and rolled away, her own terrified scream overpowering the devil woman's easily. Blood dripped from her ears, leaking out between her fingers.
The pressure in her head grew until the painful limitations of her solid bone was reached. The cracking began. The pain grew as her head began to swell. Her fingers clawed at her face, digging into her skin and peeling it away in an attempt to lessen the pressure. The rushing sound of blood filled her ears. Rissa's vision began to fade and wave, turning the tent around her into a den demonic faces. Her nails sunk into her skin, bringing ribbons of flesh away from her face. She reached for her eyeballs, desperate to pluck them free, to end this vision. Clutching, ripping, tearing, she tried to release the pressure. The crackling grew louder, her vision left her eyes forever, and she resigned herself to death as her skull split apart and left her unmoving in the dirt.
Rissa sat up, her sword coming up to cross her chest in defense. It took only a moment for her to understand what her eyes were telling her. She rolled away from the sleeping maid in her bed, stepping quickly across her tent and out into the cold night air. A few more strides brought her to the three men wrestling next to a fire. One man stood behind another, holding his arms behind his back while another stood gripping the arrow that protruded from his shoulder. Rissa's blade went right to the third man's throat, forcing the group to stop moving and stand as still as stone.
"One more move and I'll cut ya throat free from your decomposing neck." Rissa spit at the ground, cursing at her accent as it made its debut. Her free hand found its way to the man's shoulder and bit down, her nails sinking into the cloth of the man's shirt. "What kind of stupidity have you unleashed on this world now, Frandril?"
Frandril was a tall man, though most men looked quite short next to Rissa. His head stopped just under her chin, his mess of hair tickling at her, a sensation she could see herself enjoying, were it any other man. His beard grew in patches but luckily grew enough to hide most of his decaying teeth. He was a brave man but as stupid as they could come without reaching the point of burden. Despite his drawbacks, he was an excellent cook and axeman. His axes were an extension of his arms, looking weightless when he threw them about. His arms held perfectly still, his right hand firmly gripping the arrow just beneath its head. As still and solid as he stood, Rissa could still feel the shiver of fear that ran down his spine.
"Will ye answer me or have ye become as lame as a dead man's cock?" She pressed her fingernails into his shoulder harder, feeling a satisfying pop as the material broke.
"I...we was just having a bit of fun, me lady." He nervously muttered.
"A bit of fun that has cost me a scout. Yer mother must have dropped ye on ye head as a child. That or ye wish for death." Rissa's words sliced through the men like a knife, shaking the group as a whole and forcing the injured man to cry out.
Without a single word of warning, Rissa threw Frandril to the dirt, swung her sword down on the arrow shaft, and yanked it through the man's back. He groaned in pain and slumped down to his knees as the man holding him let go in surprise. Rissa reached down and pulled him back up. "To the healer with you." She shoved him away and rounded on the two left standing before her.
She took a couple of breaths, using the moment to stick the tip of her sword into the ground at her feet. "Out with it." She spat, grateful that her accent disappeared once again.
"We was..." Rissa cuffed Frandril on the back of the head, forcing his silence as she looked down at the other man. He was relatively new to their warband. He was young but strong, his arms bearing most of his muscle. His chest was wide and hard, usually standing bare except on nights like tonight, when the wind carried a chill as sharp as her blade. His hair fell down his back, fair in color and braided to keep it from becoming snagged.
"Frandril bet him that he could shoot an apple from the top of his head. He turned at the last second and the arrow struck through his shoulder. Would have pierced his heart had he not turned in fear." Dreck said. Dreck was a fine ranger, hardly ever missing his mark. Frandril, however, was shit with a bow. "I stepped in to try and remove the arrow, malady but, the coward wouldn't hold still."
Rissa gave a nod. "Well fine position you've put us in, Frandril. Down a scout while we hunt for my father's killer. I'd have liked it to have been you shot or dead, one last ass to have to trudge around behind us, consuming our rations." Rissa thought for a moment. "Aye. Frandril you'll be stepping in as scout. Pray to the Gods that you'll be struck down with a better-aimed arrow than your own." With a wave of her hand, she dismissed the two. The look of shock on Frandril's face was more than enough to tell her she had selected her punishment for him well. He hated not being surrounded by others but the lesson would be good for him, so long as he doesn't waste it.
Rissa pulled her sword from the dirt and tossed it to the weaponsmith, who caught it and nodded. It wasn't until then that Rissa realized her naked body was feeling the cold. Silently, she strode back to her tent, dismissing the maid who had awakened at the sound of the scuffle, dressed herself, and slid into the woods. She walked along, her hand resting gently on the hilt of the knife sheathed behind her back. She had neglected to grab her cloak despite the chilly air and was beginning to regret it until her eyes caught sight of the pond.
The dark waters rippled in the moonlight, shining like silver and reflecting the sky with perfect admiration. No fish were jumping and hardly any bugs seemed to be hanging about, the lone hoot of an owl echoed across the empty land. Her hand slid from her knife as she stared at the sparkling surface of the water. It made her think of the woman in her dream, the way her eyes sparkled with silver and gold flecks.
That girl. That girl was something else. A goddess if she walked the lands for sure. Rissa had never had a fully sexual dream about the woman but she never needed to. Just the few moments she does have with the woman is enough for her. Of course, there's nothing wrong with the maids she brings into her bed from time to time. They are all beautiful creatures but, there was just something otherworldly about this dream woman. Something deep and lasting that she didn't believe she would ever actually find.
Rissa stooped and picked up a small stone, pulling her arm back and tossing it, watching it bounce over the surface of the water before sinking into its silver depths. She needed to be focusing on the woman that killed her father, not the woman she would never actually find.
Rissa sank to the bank of the pond, her eyes falling finally to the ground beneath her. She wasn't ashamed as she let the tears roll down her cheeks. She hadn't expected life to become this. Her leading an army of men to hunt down a small woman. If it weren't going to be a testament to her strength as a ruler, she would just lead her warband home to Thayer. She sighed as she thought of her home. Memories passed through her skull as her eyes gazed up at the stars. After several long moments, Rissa pulled herself to her feet. She was not going to sleep so, her men would be awake alongside her. It was time to move if they were going to be useless.
Striding back into camp, she tossed a command over her shoulder, telling them to wake and gather around the fire. Rissa slipped back into her tent and roused the sleeping maid, telling her to dress and begin taking down the tents and preparing the horses. The girl clutched her clothing to her body as she ran out the flap and began issuing orders.