A Very Long Day

Kate lay perfectly still in her bunk praying that sleep would come. It seemed to have been the longest day of her life. Early that morning mass had burst into a brawl over whether or not the guards would allow the Templars to bann ale from Cove. Things had simmered down some what, and at the promotion parade she had been amazed as she was to be moved uo to the rank of Watchman. The thought of it still made her glow with pride. It was an odd feeling. For one thing she now was allowed to wear full ring mail, and for another, every other guard some how treated her differently as soon as she was promoted.

Then Kas had been captured. Kate frowned and rolled over again for the up-tenth time. They had been patrolling looking for signs of the mage after a Vesper woman brought them the news that she'd seem him being drug off by a band of ragged looking men. After a long search they had yet to find him and a cold knot of dread had formed in Kate's gut. As they were trooping back to the barracks Kate caught a gimps of Marie and a strange man through the trees. With out even calling to the others she took off at a run. The scruffy looking man seeing her, swore and fled. Kate hesitated only long enough to slash Marie's bonds with her boot knife before she tore after the unknown man. He lead her straight to the others.

They had drug Kas off to some ruins and as Kate came running into their midst, with the rest of the patrol and Marie hot on her heels, the men scattered. Furry has pulsed through her blood at the sight of them. The rage that she'd felt watching her brother die as she hid helplessly in the hall watching years before came flooding back. She didn't wait for the others, didn't even stop to see how badly Kas had been harmed. The fiends were in her sight and she had their tracks. Nothing else in the world mattered at that instant. She was going to kill them or die trying. The last time she'd hesitated, and the killer had gotten away. She'd spent four miserable years on a pirate vessel trying to track him down, stewing in her hate and craving revenge. The other guards told her later that she'd been ordered to stop, but she hadn't heard a word. She'd charged on, ignoring the weight of her new armor, and the tree branches catching her as she flew after the men that had captured Kas. They had hurt some one she cared about: they were going to pay for it.

One of them finally stopped, and she drew her sword with a feral growl. Kal Shadowhand had been near by, either following her or possibly missing the orders to stop as well, she wasn't really sure, and didn't really even register his presence then in any rate. Three more turned back and charged Kal, the one Kate faced off with wore no armor but carried a cutlass. He struck first with a paralyzing blow, and she stumbled, wrenching her ankle. The follow through was a blow to the head. Her plate helm a blessing and a curse, for as it saved her life, the blow reverberated so badly it knocked her unconscious.

A kindly wandering healer had paused long enough to wave a vial of wakeflower under her nose, and make sure she wasn't seriously harmed.

Grunting Kate pulled her pillow over her head, her cheeks turning as red as they had when the healer revived her. Revenge is a dish best served cold. The admonishment came back to her after the fact. She had been thouraly embarrassed she'd let herself get so run away with, and still dazed from the blow that had knocked her out as she shakily made her way back to Cove.

Sighing, keeping the cool underside of the pillow pressed over her head Kate kicked her self mental for a while more.

There had been a mess with Locke being injured, and her accidentally going through the gate with the unconscious celt. Instead of finding herself and the grievously injured mercenary in a healers hall she realized they were just outside the main gate of Trinsic. Even stranger was the fact that the trio of Kaladorians that came upon them as she was trying to stem the flow of blood from the gash in Locke's side. Instead of killing her out right they actually helped. One of the men was a cleric of obvious skill, and the other two didn't even really jeer, they seemed more concerned with aiding the dieing man. The Kaladorian's even quietly opened a portal back to Cove after the cleric worked his magic. It was hours later and she was still slightly woozy from all the magic she'd been in contact with through the day.

After the trauma was over, and she found out Kas was all right Kate fell apart. There really was no other word for it. At least it happened in the store room with no one else around but Ryan... He'd offered to help her find the armor cleaner that they kept stashed away to get nasty things like blood and swamp scum off. Her gauntlets had been soaked in blood by the time the Kaladorian healers had taken over things. When the adrenalin wore off as she was searching through the trunks the events of the day had started to sink in. She had seen men she fought with die before, but they were just pirates; scum she couldn't even begin to trust. The thought that some one had captured Kas, had hurt him, and could have killed him struck a chord. Not simply because it was bright, cheery, helpful Kas, though that was bad enough, but because it could have been any of the other guards she called friends. Some how in the last month the guardsmen of Cove had wormed their way into her heart. It hit her like a ton of bricks that these men she cared about deeply could fall any day, and there might not even be a damned thing she could do about it. She'd wept, feeling terrified.

Ryan, who normally didn't get a full sentence out with out sputtering or saying some thing insulting, comforted her. Her eyes welled up again remembering the things he'd said to her, and she rolled over snuggling the pillow to her middle. It had made her stop being mad at her self for crying, and thinking she was just being a pathetic weak woman, yet some how knowing that the men were occasionally wracked with similar feelings bothered Kate on an entirely new level.

Because she was a noble woman, and she knew her duties well, her heart had always been tucked away. Any friends were to be seen as potential spies, any lover or romantic pursuits could get in the way of a political marriage. There had really been no one she'd allowed herself to care for past her family. Even at that her father was distant and demanding, the brothers she'd once been so close to turned into soldiers she had barely been allowed to talk with, and her mother had ever been more interested in telling Kate what she should be doing than being her friend.

Which is an entirely different problem in of it's self. Blinking sleepily Kate's thoughts drifted over what had happened when she'd gone to check on the injured celt. She'd wanted to finish polishing her armor, but the majority of other guards were getting ready for sleep. Thinking to kill to birds with one stone, she'd bundled up her armor and the cleaner and crept off to the den she'd stashed Locke in. He was sleeping peacefully, and hadn't been looking nearly as pale as he had earlier. She was nearly half done cleaning and polishing the ring mail when the burly man had started to toss. Having more than her fair share of nightmares Kate paused watching him hoping he wasn't a sleep walker. When he'd finally sat bolt up, grabbing for a sword that thankfully wasn't there she'd waited till he acted coherent before telling him where he was and relating what had happened. The celt had had ideas about getting up and heading out then and there, but he could barely stay on his feet. Kate talked him back into the bed, and tried to convince him it would be safer if he didn't go out into the woods in the middle of the night when a determined mongbat could finish him off. That was when he kissed her.

The passion that often drove Locke's reckless behavior was nothing compared to what the celt poured into that kiss. Typically if some one were bold enough to kiss her with out her express permission Kate would amaze them, then beat the life out of them. Despite her best judgment the young noble woman was fascinated with Locke, he might have gotten off lucky with one good punch to the gash on his side, but she didn't. She couldn't. As he kissed her it seemed like the very soul of the wilds woods he came from were pouring into the void she'd kept in her heart. Her ears buzzed, then the sound cut out except for the racing beat of her heart. His muscular arms pulled her close, holding her against his powerful form and she trembled at the contact. Locke had smelled of sweat, blood, and faintly of leather. The heavy scent of him wrapped around her mind confusing her more thouraly than poppies smoke. All she could do was cling to him and return the kiss with one of her own that held a lust she hadn't know she could muster. There was a man in the bed with her, one more alive and vivid than any one she'd ever met. Desire that Kate couldn't even fathom practically radiated off of him; it touched, and spoke to something deep with in her buried cold heart. It didn't matter in the slightest that he was twice her age, it didn't matter that in the long run this entire evening was probably a very bad idea, it didn't matter that she didn't love him. All that mattered was that for the first time Kate was very much aware that she was alive. She trailed her fingers through his hair as his hands and lips moved gently, but with barely restrained urgent ness over her body. He had been the one to stop.

After that first kiss, after telling her more clearly than any words just exactly what he wanted from her, Locke had stopped. She wouldn't have. As she stared up into his clear blue eyes she realized she was flushed and trembling. Kate tried to regain some semblance of control over herself, but couldn't. The sweet nothings that he whispered had been all the things any woman would want to hear. And Kate had relished them. The words helped, even as she enjoyed hearing them some part of her mind slowly began re-building its defenses as he spoke. And now, barely an hour later laying in her bead Kate frowned.

What did she really know about Locke? And out of those facts, what of them were good things? She disagreed with nearly every principal that he biased his life on. He would more than likely be an endless bother, a social eye sore and a source of conflict between her and the other guardsmen. All of whom disliked the celt for one very good reason or another. They say that the taste of fire is worth getting burned for. Is it? Is it really? Love maybe, that is supposed to be more important than every thing, but risking it all for passion, vibrancy? And who's to say that this won't fade? I trash my life and reputation for this idea and in then end it's just some animal lust. That made up Kate's mind. To her nothing was more important than duty, and what one was supposed to be doing. She'd given up idealized dreams of marrying a knight in shining armor easily enough as a young girl, Locke was basically the same page out of another book. At tiny part of her asked, "but what if this is what you must do to be happy?" She ground that part of herself down. He may have said he wouldn't challenge her duties, and she might have meant it when she'd told him that she would kill him if ever ordered to do so, but it was abundantly clear that if she took up with the Celt it would take that much more of her attention away from serving Cove.

The idea of simply having a tryst with him than going on her way also occurred to Kate as she drifted off, nearly asleep. There were risks involved in that, non of them worth what she stood to gain. Locke is like ale, the more I drink the worse the addiction.... The comparison did some thing to clear her mind more thouraly for on the pirate ship Kate had become a terrible drunk. Bloodlust and revenge can only keep you occupied for so long, and when that was wearing thin she'd turned to opiates and alcohol to dull her mind. ...besides, it would upset Ryan.

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