The darkness suddenly turns to light and my eyes shoot open. I open my mouth to breathe, but nothing enters. Not even more water. Faintly, I can feel pounding on my chest and shouting. Over and over again. Pounding, and shouting, pounding and shouting. I fear my ribs will crack.
Suddenly water fills my throat. With a cough, it bursts out of my mouth and fresh air enters. I am quickly flipped over onto my stomach and the rest of the pond water in my lungs leaves.
I gasp for air. As it enters my lungs, I try to remember the last time it had felt so fresh. I can’t.
“You’re all right. You’re all right,” a deep voice mutters, breaking through the sound barrier that seems to have formed around my mind. My eyes shoot open and through the shadows cast by the shining sun, I see Garrick leaning over me, his hair dripping wet and his eyes closed in fatigue. Breathing heavily, he pulls back and sits on his feet, his knees folded beneath him.
I groan and my throat is suddenly set on fire. I wince and clench my neck, praying that the sharp pain will soon subside. After a few moments, it does.
I slowly push myself up onto my elbows and wipe the wetness from my face. Even through the water soaking me from head to toe, I know that tears have also contributed to my sodden state.
“How are you feeling?” Garrick asks.
“Uh...” I shake my head, trying to clear my water-logged mind, “Um... I think I’m fine.”
A twinge of pain at the back of my head has me going back on my words, “Actually...” I reach back and tough my scalp. My hand draws back, blood soaking the fingertips, “Actually, now that I think of it, not so well.” I chuckle joylessly before flinch at and glance at Garrick. His face is set into disapproval.
“You don’t have to make light of this, Maeve.” He places a hand at the nape of my neck, supporting it. I let my head relax and the sharp pain dulls a bit, “You have a right to be frightened, angry, worried...”
“I don’t want pity.” I argue.
“I normally don’t say this to people, but right now, you sort of deserve it. There aren’t many who have gone through what you’ve just been through. You almost died.”
Before I can respond, something crashes into the clearing from my left and I turn to see Tyrone, “What wrong? Is everything all right?” he shouts at seeing us.
His eyes rest on us and he kneels down beside Garrick. His brows are creased with worry and he says, in a softer voice, “What happened?”
“Just a little tumble into the water,” I explain, shooting Garrick a glance that hopefully he’ll interpret into, Don’t let him find out how serious it was. I have had enough pity to last me until my dying breath. “I’m fine. No harm was done.”
Hiding my blood-stained hand behind my back, I send an embarrassed smile Tyrone’s way. “It was stupid, really. I wasn’t looking where I was going and I tumbled right off a boulder. Thankfully, Garrick manages to pull me out right away.”
Tyrone leans back, sighing in relief, “You really gave me a scare there. You should have seen the frenzy your scream put me in. I barely had the self-control to tie the horses up before racing back here.”
“Why didn’t you bring them with you?” Garrick asks, smoothly changing the subject of conversation.
“They wouldn’t go through the dense bush. Not that I can blame them. It was hard enough by myself. I will have to take them back the way we came. Could you bring Maeve back to the village once she has eaten and dried up?”
Garrick nods, “Of course.”
“I will see you back at the village.” Tyrone tells me before disappearing once again into the forest.
“Thank you. For saving me.” I tell Garrick once Brogan has gone out of earshot. My eyes cast down and guilt fills me for the way I got angry with him when all he did was play around a bit.
Garrick smiles weakly. “What? Did you expect me to leave you there to drown?”
“Well, no. But I didn’t expect you to risk your life to save mine. We’re barely know each other.”
“Risk my life? Now, why would you think that?”
“Wait, you didn’t risk your life? Are you saying that you know how to stay afloat in the water?”
“Don’t you?”
“Absolutely not. Why do you think I almost drowned?”
“I don’t know. I kind of thought that pesky rock at the bottom is what almost cost your life. You should learn.”
“To swim? Why? So that I don’t almost drown again?”
“Yes, and because it is enjoyable.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“Why not give it a chance?”
“Why on earth would I deliberately subject myself to be completely surrounded by water? Intentional self-drowning? I don’t think so.”
With a sigh, he takes out a small blanket from his satchel. He wraps it around my shoulders.
“Do you carry half your home in there?” I ask, with a chuckle that turns quickly turns into a chatter.
“Only the useful half.” He grins and I can feel myself relax. “I can teach you to make a fire if you want,” he offers.
I laugh, “I’m not completely useless. I know how to make a fire.”
He meets me grin for grin, “But do you know how to do so without any flint?”
“Of course not... I’ve never had to.”
“Would you like me to teach you?”
I smile, happy that the heavy atmosphere has been lifted, “I’d like that.”
“Help me gather some sticks first. Make sure that they are dry and brittle. Those burn the easiest.”
We separate, Garrick heading a few meters into the forest while leaving me to search the grounds of the clearing for any wood that we may be able to use. Once I have a small stack, I lay it down in the middle of the grass clearing just as Garrick returns, a large pile of wooden logs in his arms.
He drops them beside my stick and looks down at my pile, looking pathetic beside his. “Good job. They are perfect; the smaller ones burn much faster than the larger ones which are only good once the fire has been started.”
I snort, “Thanks for making me feel better.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
Instead of replying, I just stare at our two piles.
He looks down at them, perplexed for a few moments, but then laughs. “I was being serious. The smaller ones do burn faster.”
I shrug and he quickly shows me how to make a fire. He set up the pieces of the wood into a two-layered tent like structure, placing the smaller sticks in a cone in the middle with the larger logs in another cone overtop. With two small sticks that he procures from his sac, he shows me how to rub them in a way that creates a smoke. The first stick is softly rounded at the tip and the other has a long groove in its side. Garrick places a clump of dried grass on one end of the grooved stick and showed me how to quickly rub the first stick inside the groove. This, he explains, creates heat and, eventually, enough smoke to light the brittle grass.
After a few attempts, I succeed in lighting the grass but the wind quickly stifles the flame, sputtering it out, its dying light shadowing the disappointed expression on my face.
With a bit more encouragement from Garrick and his body being used as wind protection, I manage to light the entire clump of grass on the next try. He quickly picks up the flaming pile and stuffs it under the tent of sticks.
Upon hearing my stomach grumble, Garrick decides that it would be a good time to make use of the fire and forage and hunt a meal.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he tells me, “I’ll have a rabbit in no time.”
“What? And leave me behind? I don’t think so.” I drop the blanket from my shoulders and square my shoulders.
Garrick shakes his head, “Are you mad? You almost died only a few moments ago. I’ll not have you traipsing through the forest in your condition.”
“My condition? What condition? Frustrated and furious?”
“The answer’s no, Maeve.”
“Well, as much as you’d like it, you don’t actually have the authority to tell me what to do. You can’t stop me from following you.”
“I’ll tie you to a tree.”
“No, you won’t.”
He snorts, “Yes. Yes, I will.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care if you don’t believe me. I’ll do it.”
“Then do it.”
He stares at me for a few moments and he licks his lips.
I grin, “You don’t even have rope.”
“Fine, you can come, but be careful. You’ve had enough excitement for one day.”
With a mutter about packing rope next time, he quickly puts greens to roast over the open flame, their thick aroma their aroma drifting into the air as he leads me into the forest.
Garrick shows me the simplest snare. It was the first one his father taught him and only consists of a thin rope, a branch, and bait.
First, we tie one end of the rope into a tightening loop and lay it on the ground close to a trail of hares. Spreading some grass, leaves, and a wild vegetable that we had found into the middle of the circle, he threads the remaining rope over a tree branch and behind a bush were I wait, breath held and heart racing.
“Are ye sure this will work?” I ask and Garrick glances at me, his expression slightly annoyed.
“Are you doubting my father’s trapping abilities?” he questions, teasingly.
“Absolutely not. I’m doubting your sanity. What animal would be dumb enough to step right in the middle of a circle of rope just to get some food when there’s plenty of grass and leaves around. Even the vegetable isn’t too rare. Are you sure that you’re following your father’s instructions properly? I doubt that simple hunger is enough to make them risk death.”
“You’re right. It isn’t. However, curiosity is. The food, especially the vegetable, is to lure the animal close. Curiosity over the rope will have them stepping right in the trap.”
“I think you’re overconfident.”
“I think you should be quiet,” he whispers, a finger to his lips as he points through the bush and over to where a wild hare appears, its eyes set on the small mound of food acting as our lure.
The hare’s long, brown-grey ears twitch apprehensively as it hops closer to the trap. Even from where I crouch, I can see its nose curling as it takes in the air tainted with the scent of the bait.
I move my weight to my left leg as the right one starts ache. A twig snaps in protest and the hare jumps up and takes off back into the bush.
I cringe. “Sorry.”
Garrick huffs, “We’ll just have to wait for another to come around.”
Soon enough, a large brown hare comes bounding into view. Although not as fat as the previous one, it is larger. It heads straight for the trap and waits on the border, sniffing the air. Thankfully, the wind is against us and the hare doesn’t pick up our scent. Deeming the small clearing safe, all his attention focuses on the tasty treats. He takes a cautious step into the trap. When nothing happens, he takes another, both front paws now in the loop.
With a sharp tug, Garrick yanks on the rope. It tightens around the hare’s limbs and pulls it flying into the air. We jump up from out hiding space, grins on both our faces. Leaping over the small bush hiding us, we walk to where the hare hangs, desperately trying to nibble through the rope. Once we get near enough, it lashes out at me its sharp teeth only inches away from my skin. All my dread at its killing vanishes as I jump back in shock.
With a careful lunge, Garrick grabs hold of the hares ears and takes out his knife, quickly silencing the animal.
We quickly return to the clearing, our prize hanging from Garrick’s belt. Thankfully, the herbs smoking over the fire have not burned and their scent makes the air warm and homey. Garrick sprinkles the greens over the rabbit and places the fresh meet on the spit.
We wait in a comfortable silence as the hare smokes. Once cooked, the meat is quickly deboned and divided evenly between the two of us, even after my protest that Garrick should get more than half since he was the one who actually caught it despite my doubt. That, and well, he was almost twice my size.
We eat in silence, the soft meat warming our insides. As soon as he is finished his meal, Garrick takes off his wet leine and lays it on the grass before laying down himself and closing his eyes
I blush at the sight of his bare chest. I am used to such a sight as many of the males in our village walk around in such a manner in mid-summer but normally, their torsos are bulging, and covered in layers of hair. Even some of the warriors’ chests are rounded and soft. Not so with Garrick’s and I turn away, thankful that he has his eyes closed.
“Enjoying the view, are we?” Garrick suddenly says. I jump as I feel my cheeks warming up and my ears flaming. Why does he always have to put me in such uncomfortable situations?
“It could be better.” I state, hoping to regain some remaining shreds of my dignity.
He snorts. “Doubt that.”
I doubt it too. My eyes involuntarily drift over to him but I quickly pull them away.
Deciding not to let him know how embarrassed I am, I kick off my boots and take a seat beside him. Running my feet through the soft greenery, I let my hair flow around my shoulders as the soft breeze makes them dance. My tired body falls back onto nature’s bed. The thick grass cushions my fall and it feels as if I’m lying on a bed of soft and fluffy clouds. I close my eyes and breathe in deep the smell of spring. The scent of the small flowers dotted across the clearing reaches me and the faint aroma is like breathing in a taste of Any, the goddess of the earth. I stretch out my arms, a silly smile on my face as I contemplate falling asleep.
With a yawn, I turn over to my side and watch Garrick. His eyes are still closed but a ghost of a smile rests on his lips.
“We have an hour until the setting of the sun,” he says.
I nod sleepily as my mouth becomes occupied by yawn. “We should head back to the village soon.”
“That we should. Your sisters and Tyrone might be worried.”
I shake my head, “I don’t think so. I’ve barely seen either of them the past few days. They won’t notice I’m missing.”
“What of Tyrone? He’s probably regretting leaving you with me.” Garrick’s voice hardens.
“Why on earth would he be?”
“Well, it’s obvious that he’s really protective of you.”
“Maybe just a little.”
He shrugs but his shoulders are still tense. “If you say so.”
“I do say so,” I shoot back with a contented sigh. “What about your father? Would he worry if you went missing for a bit?”
Garrick seems to think this through, “I don’t know. I hope he would but history has proven otherwise.”
I sit up, perplexed. “Why’s that?”
“Well, he has always treated me as an equal, letting me take care of myself if he can’t. My mother died as I was born and my father was away in battle during my birth. He only came home once he heard that his wife had passed on. He didn’t know how to care for me. I know that he loved me and cared for me the best he could but there were just some things that he couldn’t do because he didn’t know how. So a lot of my childhood was spent following my father around as he trained and then worked at his forge when he got injured. He taught me to be independent and he knows I can care for myself. We’re more like friends than anything.”
“It must have been difficult to care for such a young child with no help.” I remark, “He must’ve been really emotionally and mentally strong, especially with his wife so recently passed.”
Garrick meets my gaze, a strange glint shining from his dark eyes. “Most people don’t see it that way.” He says, “They shun him for raising me without a mother since most men would have taken another wife. They think he could have done a better job had he been less stubborn about being faithful to my mother.”
“I’d love to meet your father.” I say, “He seems like a great man.”
“You would? Really?”
I nod and shrug, “Maybe one day.”
“Maybe.”
We lapse into a comfortable silence
Garrick sighs but gets up and places his wet leine into the sac. He pulls out another leine, this one perfectly dry, and pulls it on.
My eyes widen, “You... you did that on purpose just to see me squirm!”
“What? Don’t be daft.” The sides of his lips quirk up, “I would never do such a thing.”
Sending a smirk over his shoulder, he swings the satchel over his arm and takes off for the eastern side of the clearing. I jump to my feet and grab my boots, unsteadily slipping them off as I try to catch up with him. We dive into the thick woods and I race to keep up. His strides are long and fast and I pray that I won’t loose sight of his back or the sound of his footfalls.
More than once, Garrick prevents me from tripping over logs or getting lost. His voice guides me and his hands lead out of the darkness and into the fields. We continue in this way for a little under an hour before breaking free of the woods and into the fields.
The walk through the meadows is lovely. No awkward silences or uncomfortable conversations. We talk about everything, from our childhoods, to our favorite food, to the different traditions between our two villages. Even the silence that comes after our conversation dies down is pleasant and peaceful.
The air smells of freshness and the soft cool breeze of early evening has given the world a clean feel. The sun is halfway hidden on the horizon, stretching out our shadows.The grass is tall and the most brilliant green that I have ever seen. I reach down to pet it and the softness is too much to stand.
Sending a sly grin to Garrick’s back, I fall back into the pillow of grass. Its buoyancy reminds me of the clearing back in the forest.
“Maeve! Maeve!” Garrick calls out in the distance. I consider shouting back out to him, but think better of it. With a giggle, I bury myself deeper into the soft green foliage.
For a few minutes, his footsteps get closer and closer until I feel something bump against my foot and Garrick trips over me, landing by my side.
I can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of me as Garrick looks at me in complete shock before a smile also melds onto his face.
Once his chuckles and my giggles die down, he pushes himself up onto his feet and holds out his hand to me. I take it and he pulls me up.
“I was scared for a moment there,” he says.
“Why?”
“I thought I had lost you.”
I raise my eyebrows and grin. “Are you saying that you actually care?”
“Of course. I don’t want to take the chance of being skinned alive for not bringing you back.”
After about another hour of walking, we finally make it to the village. We part ways at the village centre, Garrick heading for the barracks.
With a last glance at him, I turn towards my home and enter. I quickly strip my body of the heavy, damp, dress and slip on another. I take out my comb and begin the slow process of de-tangling my hair.
Loud knocking on the door sends me jumping in the air and tumbling off my chair.
I yank the door open. “What on earth- Oh! Hello, Garrick. You should really learn to knock properly. My heart almost stop-”
“Would you like to meet my father?” He asks. His fingers fidget and he sounds a little out of breath.
“Of course I would. I told you as much back in the clearing.”
“No, I mean now. Would you like to meet him right now? By the time we reach his forge, he will be almost ready to close up for the day.”
Now that I am actually faced with it, I realize the gravitation of it all, including all the underlying implications. Meeting Garrick’s father sounds quite serious. Especially with the way he is asking. Awkwardness fades in and out of his expression and his hands don’t keep still. Even his foot is tapping restlessly.
I stay silent, not trusting my words. I don’t even trust my own mind to give me the right words to express my opinion. I don’t even know what opinion I have. Garrick is implying that he is interested in me, which I am not sure I am comfortable with.
If I were to accept, I would be drastically lowering my chances of being chosen by Brogan which is the main reason that we are here in the first place. I might even offend him and Callen.
Although Garrick is giving me a great compliment by asking, I am not sure if I can accept. He is asking me if I am available, if my heart is not otherwise engaged. He is showing his interest in me as a woman, and not just a friend.
The most frightening thing about it all is that I am actually considering accepting his offer.