The Lowlander Pt. 01

"I see they've recruited you in the cleanup," Hanna commented, making her way up the stairs.

"We volunteered," Kara corrected her, sitting back to rub the base of her spine. "They seemed like they needed help."

Hanna sat on the top step, carefully positioning her bottom so she'd avoid the river of blood. "Thank you for offering to come with me. I can't tell you how grateful I am."

"You're welcome," Bonnie said, flipping her blonde braid behind her back and dipping her cloth into the clean water. "It's not like we have anyone or anything to return to in Caverna. This is a welcome distraction from that sad fact."

Kara agreed, slapping her cloth on the stone floor yet again. "What happened between you and the Commander?"

"Nothing. She won't talk to me."

Hanna picked up a clean cloth and played with the unraveling seam.

"I don't blame her," Bonnie said, in her usual honest way. "If someone did to me what you did to her..." She shook her head, unable or unwilling to finish that sentence.

"I know," Hanna said quietly.

"But, on the bright side," Kara chimed in, "You know it only affected her because she felt something for you. You just need to prove to her how sorry you are to bring those feelings to the surface again."

"Hanna," Bonnie said, her voice serious. "We know why you did it. We understand. All of us would have done the same thing given half the chance -- we were on a mission and that takes priority over everything else. But you're done now, done with your obligations. Show her that she's your priority, if you really want her."

"That's sound advice," Kara agreed, reaching back to rub her back again. "But in the meantime, could you help us get this place clean? My back's on fire."

Hanna groaned and dipped the cloth in clean water.

Between the three of them, they managed to clean the small church from top to bottom in just under four hours. At the end of the day, they could barely stand up straight as they lugged the buckets back to the square.

Everyone else had been hard at work as well. If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn't have guessed that a battle had taken place at noon.

A few fires had started and fat hunks of meat roasted over them. Children sat around, awaiting their turn to rotate the dinner so that it cooked evenly. The brewery had broken out its stash of ale; the brewer handed out generous mugfulls to anyone who walked past. He was delighted to see Hanna and shook her hand with enthusiasm she felt in her spine. He'd seen what she'd done for their village and couldn't thank her enough.

She smiled through his praise and was about to pick up her mug when a large shadow fell on her. Her heart lurched in anticipation as she took in the feathered armor. But her face fell in disappointment when she realized it was only the Second Commander.

"I've never seen someone so disappointed to see me," Finn commented, taking in Hanna's frown.

"Sorry. I just thought you were-"

"The Commander, I know. She's in conference with the Chief."

"I see." Hanna sipped her ale, looking down at her feet.

"But you'll see her later. She's obliged to attend the feast."

Hanna nodded, looking into the rapidly growing crowd.

"Your friend is very pretty," Finn commented, taking a deep gulp of her ale.

Hanna's eyes snapped to her in surprise.

"Well -- I suppose she is, but Bonnie's got the fiercest tongue of any woman I've ever met."

"Not Bonnie. I'm talking about Kara."

"Kara?" Hanna's head tilted as she zoned in on the clumsy newest recruit of the Coven who was seated around a fire with Bonnie. She'd only known Kara for two years and she'd never thought her pretty. Perhaps cute, like one would consider a little sister. Adorably clumsy, with a little too much baby fat to go along with it. The girl trained just as hard as the rest of the sisters but found it hard to shed the weight. In spite of it, she was a fierce warrior and an excellent shot with a bow an arrow.

"Yes. Kara. The red hair is captivating. And those freckles on her cheeks..."

Hanna smiled. Finn seemed to be genuinely mesmerized by Kara; she was unable to look away as Kara laughed and sipped her ale.

Then she shook her head.

"It would be wrong." Finn straightened her shoulders and finished her ale. "She's half my age."

Hanna looked up at the warrior, brows furrowed.

"Why aren't you married?" she asked, watching Finn closely.

Finn reached up to run her fingers through her hair. "Uh -- I've been preoccupied with climbing the ranks. Marriage never seemed to be a concern."

Hanna made an approving noise at the back of her throat. "Any mistresses?"

Finn's face flushed. "No, not anymore."

Hanna paused for thought.

"You're right, Second Commander. Kara's very young. And she's the loveliest, most trusting person I know. You could talk to her if you like but if you ever take advantage of her, I'll give my bow a workout. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good." Hanna handed the brewer her cup for a refill. "You didn't hear this from me but her back's aching from scrubbing the church all day. Perhaps you could help with that?"

Finn shared a smile with Hanna.

"Perhaps I could," she called over her shoulder as she walked toward Kara and Bonnie. Hanna watched as Finn sat next to them and joined the conversation with ease. Kara laughed at whatever Finn said, her cheeks flushing a little.

Maybe there was something there after all...

*

A stranger handed her a change of clothes, thanking Hanna profusely for helping the village in a time of need. But it was Hanna who was more grateful than ever as she stripped off her muddy clothing at the stream and sluiced clean water over her overheated body.

She waded in and wet her hair, wishing she had her scented soaps to scrub herself clean. Instead, she settled for the calming effect of the water, feeling it ebb and settle around her body like a gentle caress, washing away the mud she'd lathered herself in for battle.

Her heart was heavy. But she had to pay for her mistakes -- such was life. As she dragged herself to the bank and scrubbed her muddied clothes, she fought back tears.

The clothes she was given were just a little too big in the bottom and too short on top. The ensemble played with the conventions of modesty by leaving her midriff bare, but she soon realized it was the way of the lowlanders when she returned to the feast to find similarly dressed women. She just hoped Kara and Bonnie wouldn't be scandalized by it.

Dusk had fallen. The roast fires lit the night like beacons, beckoning villagers to the feast. Festive music permeated the village square as fiddlers and drummers broke out their instruments to signal the start of the celebrations. Women carved the roasted meat and handed out lean strips to those seated around the fires.

Hanna's eyes searched the crowd but she didn't find the person she was looking for. Sighing, she made her way to her sisters and Finn, and took a seat with them.

Finn winked at her -- at least someone was having a good time.

She was handed a slice of tender meat, which she accepted gratefully. She hadn't eaten since that morning, when the coven had come across a tree that bore fat fruit. But before she could take a bite, a loud cheer erupted around her -- the loudest of which came from Finn. Startled, Hanna caught her plate just before it hit the floor.

She followed the direction of the villagers' gaze to find Jem, walking tall and proud with the Chief by her side. Hanna had no fond memories of the old man -- he had a foul demeanor and never seemed the type to crack a smile. It was his edict that had seen her in chains in the first place.

Perhaps I should thank him then... Hanna thought candidly.

As the Chief took his seat on the raised stone throne in the center of the square, the villagers rushed forward with offerings of food. Each offering was sampled by a guard standing nearby before the Chief accepted it with thanks.

Hanna watched Jem, every bit the strong and stoic commander she was during the day as she carried out her duties to her village. But Hanna knew different -- a side of Jem that many wouldn't have seen, wouldn't know existed. She knew how that rough touch could turn gentle with a single 'please', a single kiss. How those lovely brown eyes could soften and glaze over with pleasure under Hanna's fingers.

Hanna felt the phantom pressure around her neck, just as she'd recalled countless times over the past two weeks. Goosebumps raised her skin as memories of that night came flooding back...

*

Two weeks earlier

"Hello," Hanna said, her voice a little rusty. "I believe it's time I gave you pleasure."

Jem smiled as Hanna pulled her lips down for a thorough kiss. Hanna's fingers stole beneath the collar of Jem's loose nightshirt, her small hands clasping the back of Jem's neck. She slipped her tongue between Jem's lips, wanting -- no, needing -- to get closer. To feel Jem all around her like a flame. To feel her fingers and tongue on every inch of skin that yearned for it.

Jem reached back and pulled her nightshirt over her head, baring her body to Hanna's gaze once again. Only this time, Hanna was allowed to touch the sculpted dark planes she'd so admired hours before.

But when her gaze locked with Jem's, her fingers stilled. The soft brown eyes that had been emblazoned with passion only moments before were now uncertain and sheepish.

Hanna let her fingers wander down the curve of a shoulder, down the arms that were strong enough to serve and protect. Jem's muscles jumped under her ministrations; Hanna could tell that she was trying her hardest not to flinch.

Hanna entwined her fingers with Jem's.

"What's wrong?" she asked, scooting closer such that they were only a hair's breadth apart.

"I..." Jem hesitated, biting her lip. "I don't have the curves most women do. I'm not soft like you are."

Hanna blinked.

"And?" she asked, leaning forward to place a quick kiss on Jem's generous lips.

"My body's not as pleasing-"

"Stop." Hanna cut Jem off, her eyes daring Jem to say another word. "Your body's beautiful. These muscles have protected your people for years. They only speak of your commitment to your beliefs, your loyalty to Goldhurst. These muscles are your badge of honor... and they're beautiful. You're beautiful."

Jem's eyes searched hers for evidence of falsity. Hanna met her unwavering gaze, the truth of her statement evident in the reverent strokes of her fingers over Jem's hardened stomach.

"So beautiful," Hanna repeated, her fingers dipping low to toy with the curls at the juncture of Jem's thighs. She watched as Jem's breath caught, her lips parting on a silent gasp.

Jem raised a leg and placed it on Hanna hips, drawing her even closer in the dimly lit room.

Hanna seeking fingers slipped lower into the welcoming warm heat of Jem's core. A powerful surge of desire and satisfaction rushed through Hanna as she watched Jem's throat work, her gaze never wavering from Hanna's.

"Lower," Jem breathed, her pupils dilating with pleasure as Hanna's fingers thrummed the button at her core.

Hanna obliged, her fingers slipping into the crevice that needed her attention most. Jem exhaled a deep sigh as Hanna slid her fingers in slowly, pushing past the tightness against her fingertips.

Sweat broke on Jem's forehead as Hanna withdrew her fingers and slid them back in, mimicking the rhythm Jem had set earlier.

"Faster," she breathed, her breath catching.

A wicked smile twisted Hanna's lips as she shook her head. Consider this payback, Commander, she thought a second before rough hands clasped her throat. Jem's fingers pressed hard against her pulse points but carefully avoided her airway. Hanna's eyes drifted closed at the surprised spark of pleasure the aggressive move ignited in her belly.

"You think you're in control, little girl?" She heard Jem's voice in her ear, her breathing harsh. Hanna was wise not to answer the question.

"You'll do as you're told. Open your eyes."

Hanna's eyes were glazed over with pleasure; Jem's words seemed to go straight to her core. The fingers on her neck only heightened the sensation.

"You're going to fuck me, little girl. And you're going to do it right. Curl your fingers."

Jem's large frame shuddered as Hanna did as instructed.

"Thrust."

And just like that, Hanna felt the need to please Jem overwhelm her. Was it a need if it eclipsed her whole being, all her thought? Hanna's fingers renewed their vigor, thrusting in time to her heartbeat, Jem's moans of pleasure spurring her on.

"Oh god," Jem's breath caught on a moan as she shuddered, her core closing over Hanna's fingers. Hanna watched in fascination as Jem fell apart, her back arched like a bow, lips parted in a silent O.

Beautiful. So beautiful.

*

Jem stood next to the Chief, staring straight ahead, her eyes watchful for potential danger. The woodland guards had been reposted but the ease at which the marauders had infiltrated their defense was worrying. She knew she'd be up half the night re-organizing defense tactics and perimeters to ensure her people would be safe as they slept.

She caught sight of the woman seated around one of the feast fires with her sisters and Finn. But Hanna's face only held sadness as she stared into the flames, the hunk of meat uneaten on her plate.

She was wearing traditional feast clothing -- someone must have taken pity on her and lent them to her. If the sight of Hanna in her tribe's colors warmed Jem's heart at all, she ignored it. Instead, she tried hard not to focus on Hanna's bare stomach and the curve of her hips accentuated by the loose-fitting pants.

Jem took a deep breath and looked away, but the memory of rose-scented hair pervaded her senses. The feel of soft, pale curves under her fingers was a crippling memory.

She's yours, a voice whispered inside Jem's head. You claimed her. In the eyes of your people and hers, she belongs to you.

Jem closed her eyes and took a deep breath, fighting the anger, the pain, the deep, debilitating longing those words caused.

There was no going back. Hanna had made her choice when she'd left in the middle of the night, leaving Jem behind like a used toy, one that had served its purpose and was no longer required.

But if that was the case, why was Hanna back in Goldhurst? Why had she helped Jem's army against the marauders?

She felt a hand on her arm. The Chief gave her a nod, indicating that her duties were over. She caught Finn's eye in the crowd and the Second Commander rose in an instant. She bade a quick farewell to the sisters and walked over to take Jem's place.

Walking through the crowd, Jem accepted a plate of meat from Paula and sat with the children, listening to their rendition of the battle earlier that day. She couldn't help but smile at their over-exaggerations but she didn't try to correct them. If these children wanted to remember her as a savior to all mankind, who was she to stop them?

A shadow fell over her as she raised a mug of ale to her lips. She found herself eye-level with the delectable dimple of Hanna's belly button. Jem forced herself to swallow the ale in her mouth.

"We need to talk." Hanna's tone left no room for argument.

Jem simply raised a brow and looked away.

"Stop it. Stop ignoring me, Jem. You won't get rid of me that easily."

Hanna dropped to her knees, trying to catch Jem's gaze -- a seemingly impossible task.

"Jem, I'm sorry about how I left. I truly am. I had no choice -- surely you understand that."

Paula, perceptive soul that she was, ushered the children away from the couple.

"Please, just-"

Jem stood and poured the rest of her ale into the fire, not sparing Hanna a glance, sprawled on the earth. Hanna scrambled to stand as Jem walked away from her with long, quick strides.

"Don't leave!"

Hanna's impassioned plea didn't slow Jem down one bit. So Hanna did what she was trained to do. She took a running leap, locking her legs around Jem's waist and throwing her arms around Jem's neck.

"You will listen-"

She barely got the words out before she was forcibly set on the earth again, her bottom digging into the dirt. She stayed there, watching Jem disappear into a cluster of houses.

Kara and Bonnie were by her side in an instant.

"That was quite a scene," Bonnie commented, helping Hanna up.

Hanna swiped tears from her cheeks angrily, frustrated beyond comprehension.

"You know, Hanna, she doesn't seem to want to hear your apology. Perhaps we should just leave Goldhurst." Kara's voice was soft and hesitant.

"I can't." Hanna's voice was soft, pained.

"Oh, Hanna. There are others out there for you -- perhaps someone who'll actually listen to what you have to say? You don't have to put up with the rejection. You're a beautiful woman with a generous heart -- you'll find a mate in minutes." Kara's tried to reassure her but Hanna only shook her head.

Slowly, Hanna slid down the sleeve of her top, revealing the claim on her shoulder.

Bonnie cursed. "Of all the stupid things... How could you let her-"

"Now's not the time!"

Hanna and Bonnie's eyes snapped to Kara. They'd never heard her raise her voice before tonight. Kara enveloped Hanna in a hug.

"It's going to be okay, Hanna. Let's all calm down and talk about it. Finn has offered us a bed for the night."

"Are you sure that's for all of us?" Bonnie snarked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Kara flushed. "Yes, I'm sure. She won't be around for a while so let's use that time to talk. We'll help you fix this, Hanna. At least I will."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "I'll help, too." She conceded, expelling a long, loud sigh. "Now, where's Finn's house?"

*

There was no easy solution to her problems -- that's what they agreed on after too much ale and too many tears. The damage had been done and it looked as though there was no turning back.

Hanna knew Jem was angry. She probably felt betrayed as well. Hanna didn't blame her. She could work with that anger, slowly chip away at it one day at a time by proving to Jem that she was in Goldhurst to stay. For good.

Finn found Kara and Bonnie asleep on her bed when she returned from the tactical conference. But Hanna sat on the edge of the bed, her face twisted in a mask of determination.

"Are you well?" Finn asked, shutting the bedroom door behind her.

Hanna shook her head without looking up. "She won't even talk to me."

"I saw what happened. I think the whole village did."

Hanna's face flushed at the memory -- at being rejected in front of hundreds of people.

"Time heals," Finn said simply, slipping her armor over her head.

Hanna stood and headed for the door.

"You're not staying? There's still about a square inch of space left on my bed."

"No, but thank you."

In the dark of night, Hanna made her way up the steep hill towards Jem's house. She couldn't help but remember that the first time she'd made that walk had been in irons, with a guard dragging her along. She'd been scared, desperate. The last thing she'd expected to find at the top of that hill had been kindness. Passion. Maybe even...

Jem wasn't home -- that much was evident from the darkened rooms. It wouldn't take much to scale the modest house and enter through the large bedroom windows that faced the stream. But she doubted she'd be a welcome houseguest.

Hanna raised her hand to the wooden door, her fingertips moving silently over the dark carved wood. On the other side of the door were the vessels of her memories. The bedroom where she'd learned the soul of a person -- the bed where she'd finally come alive. The window that had determined her fate.