Private Tales Old Habits

[Nathaira]

Violence had a way of finding Nathaira.

“Scaleborn,” they had called her, after beating her mother to death. As they carted her to the deepest catacombs beneath Vel Anir. While they trained her by whip and hook to become even less than half human.

It had found her in Samskaya on her dream quest, almost killing her as she wrenched free of her rune’s control. It had followed her home, to the ones she could now call family, when Rumer murdered their captor and Kasimir sacrificed himself to save her. Nathaira had almost killed Kasimir to protect him from his own rune, and in doing so nearly lost him his shadowy companions.

For the first few months, Nathaira had been wary. Their new life was fragile, and she was convinced it would fall apart at any moment. Yet they made it through winter.

When spring came, she was certain Anirian hooves would beat the newly thawed roads to find them, that someone would have reported the monsters in their midst, taken a reward to feed their families for years… but none came.

After almost a year, Nathaira finally allowed herself to accept, if not fully trust, their safety. Vel Anir had changed, so she’d heard, and had seemingly no interest in reclaiming “lost property.” They could be truly free, if they chose.

Now Nathaira cursed herself for thinking she could outrun violence forever. She cursed herself for finally feeling secure enough not to strap a dagger to her thigh at all times. She clenched her flexible jaw and scowled beside Kasimir, seated on cramped pews in the dim, dusty village chapel.

In fleeing Vel Anir’s sphere of influence, they had sacrificed its stability. Out here anyone with enough gold could fund a small army, and two such self-proclaimed lords had done just that. Their conflict had avoided the village thus far, but armies grew hungry, and boots needed filling. So it came to be that one such company had been marching north, consuming towns and settlements alike. Their small, quiet hamlet was directly along their path.

Thomas Greenwater, the closest thing to a community leader by virtue of owning most the fields and livestock, had delivered the news from the pulpit and was having a great deal of trouble controlling the ensuing chaos.

“I will not risk my family’s lives. Come sunrise, we are packing up and going as far away as possible.”

“We’ll be safer on the road together, we should form a caravan.”

“You won’t outrun their army. The only choice is to surrender peacefully and hope they will be merciful.”

“I heard they burnt Merrymire to the ground! Razed it with the people and livestock.”

“Those is rumors, those is. Armies need soldiers, food. Make ourselves useful to ‘em.”

“I’ll be dead before I give up my land!”

Thomas held up his hands for order, but none would come. Nathaira remained silent, grinding her sharp teeth even harder.

 

[Kasimir]

"All will be well, Nat," Kasimir said softly and placed a hand upon her knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Unlike his amore who had sunk into a deep, icy rage on hearing the news of the forthcoming trouble, the Tiefling had taken the news calmly in the same way one might receive the news that it was due to rain tomorrow. He had been listening to the movements of the two armies for weeks now. Odd survivors had staggered into their town or an odd man or two had arrived to buy weapons to arm his family with in the town over from the smithy where he worked. Perhaps it had mentally prepared him for when the news had come it was their small corner of paradises turn to face the warmongers.

Kasimir had taken to life in the village the easiest out of the three of them. It had seemed as though he had been destined for such a quaint life and had fallen into the simple rhythms with joy. He'd barely bothered to make new deals with the Shadows that had once coated his body thinking them safe. Foolish, perhaps, given the situation and yet... he still was not worried.

Maybe he was just in denial.

Or maybe it was because he knew he would let nothing disturb the happiness he had carved out for them all here.

"We can offer our knowledge, make the town ready. If we are too much trouble the armies will move on."

 

[Nathaira]

Kasimir's hand did not console her as much as he might have hoped. It helped to bring her thoughts back to the here and now and away from shadows past, but the here and now was still noisy and panicked. Her tongue flicked out of her mouth twice in quick succession. This whole room reeked of sweat and fear, and she hated the sweetness it left in her mouth.

Monsters do not change.

She hissed beneath her breath at the intrusive thought and turned to Kasimir. He was so... calm. It wasn't his practiced mask of indifference, Nathaira had learned the difference. No, he was actually unbothered. All will be well? How?

"Thesse people are not ssoldierss," she retorted. "They will be sslaughtered." They had both seen what happened when the common man rose against an armored hand. Good intentions did not guide blades. She took another look around the room where half the people were arguing, the other half holding their families close.

She sighed, sending a few braids slipped over her shoulder at the motion. She hadn't covered her head, hadn't done so in several months. The people here were kind and didn't recoil from her appearance. They didn't snicker at her lisp or comment on the copious amounts of furs she wore when days were cold. They had offered her a grace she did not deserve. And now they would suffer.

She rested her own hand atop Kasimir's and laced her fingers with his. "They do not know our passt." She swallowed. "They will assk how we know what we know."

 

[Kasimir]

Kasimir hesitated for a moment as though weighing up her words and his response before inclining his head in agreement. But only on one point.

"They do not know for certain," he corrected in that soft way he did when Rumer's art skills needed critiquing. "There is no way they do not suspect we come from somewhere where our pasts were dark. Out of kindness they haven't pressed, just accepted. I do not think they would sharpen their pitchforks if we revealed we knew a little of these things."

Of course, saying they knew only a little was an understatement. Even Rumer had had two years of training in the Forsaken ranks and could kill an enemy without battering an eye if she so wished. Like she had done to Norris in the end. The thought of asking the sweet girl who was as much a daughter to him as Nat was... his. had never crossed his mind before that moment. As soon as it did he vowed vehemently to keep her out of it entirely. She didn't even need to know of the threat.

Gently, he squeezed Nat's hand again.

"They don't need to be soldiers if they have us."

 

[Nathaira]

Kasimir was right, of course, he was annoyingly consistent in that. Their newfound friends were not fools, they were simply too kind to let their curiosity get the better of them. Even kind people had limits, though, and Nathaira would not fault them if they withdrew that kindness after learning the truth.

She had done terrible things. They both had. Yes, they had been under the yoke of Vel Anir and near-unbreakable magic shackles, but Nathaira did not grant herself these excuses. She had rarely been given an order more specific than to kill a target. It had been her choice to kill others along the way. It had been her choice to torture, extort, and terrorize. And she had enjoyed it. She did not deserve kindness.

Perhaps not even Kasimir, as steady and warm as he was, did not deserve kindness either. But Rumer did. Nathaira would not let Rumer’s second chance be taken.

Her brooding took her to the end of the village meeting, and they followed the throng out into the night. She watched the crowd thin out, viper pupils dilated wide against the dim. Her lip curled as the small recesses along its upper edge traced their fading heat. To her right, the unmistakable brilliance of Kasimir’s constant warmth blinded her.

”We cannot fight a whole army for them.” She finally answered to Kasimir’s statement, and her tongue flickered in and out in agitation. ”Even if we teach them, many will die.” Her jaw twitched, and every part of her felt sick for what she was about to suggest. She pointed her amber eyes directly at Kasimir. ”Or… we could do what we do. Remove the leadership. Destabilize the army before it arrives.” No one would need to know it was them, no one here would have to die.

If they acted quickly enough, the army might fall apart before reaching the village. She hoped it would, a roving band of desperate mercenaries was not much better than a fed army.

 

[Kasimir]

Kasimir's almost silent footsteps came to a abrupt halt at Nat's suggestion. His amber gaze flickered from her to the people closest to them, quietly assessing whether their human hearing would pick up their dark line of debate. Clearly he wasn't satisfied, for he put a hand on Nat's back and hurriedly walked her in the opposite direction to the main townsfolk. Thankfully it wouldn't look odd given they technically lived within the forest that bordered the town's Eastern edge.

"We gave up that life, Nat," Kasimir's tail flicked to and fro, the only outward sign of his agitation. His tone, in contrast, was its ever constant hushed murmur. "We don't do that anymore. We can teach these people to defend themselves. What is the human expression they like so much? Give a man a fish..." his brows knitted as he tried to recall the rest of it then, with a shake of his head, he dismissed it as unimportant and moved on. "The point is, it is better to pass the knowledge on. These might not be the only threats this village face."

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira allowed herself to be shuffled to the darkened wood's edge. The night air was cooling, and Kasimir's hand was blessedly warm. It would be difficult to argue with him when she couldn't help but lean against him, and his voice was so damned... calming all the time. She sucked her fangs in a nervous tic as he spoke. Her whole body wanted to squirm away at the notion of teaching these people how to fight and kill, not because of some moral quandary, but because she was so much better at killing humans than conversing with them.

"How do you ssuggest we do that?" She was so close that her tongue tickled Kasimir's collar. "Hello, we are the strange half-breeds from the woods that you welcomed into your homess, and by the way we've been able to kill all of you thiss whole time?"

She was not used to acceptance, nor was she keen on losing it once gained. She had almost made a friend, even, a plump older woman named Greta who traded her herbs and greens for the rabbits she caught, and who taught her new braids for her hair every so often. Was she now to teach her how to hold a knife?

She sighed, sucking in the cool night air and hissing it back out. "You'll need to make a lot of armor."

 

[Kasimir]

Kasimir's lips curved downwards at the term Nat used: half-breed. He had never liked the term that had always been thrown in their face by nobles in their attempt to make them feel less. Unworthy. There was nothing half about him. He was Kasimir. Fully, unapologetically. It mattered not what quantities of human or Teifling made up his blood.

"It's not like that," but it was to some extent. "The point is we didn't. We came here in peace, wanting to be a part of their world," his argument sounded flimsy even to his own ears which only increased his souring mood. His tail lashed against the forest floor in a rare flash of anger and hurt.

"And what do you propose instead, Nat? We sneak out in the darkness, kill these armies and pretend to them we had nothing to do with it? Do you not think they will piece it together we are the only thing those other villages did not have and they stand whilst the others don't?"

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira literally watched Kasimir's temperature rise. Despite its lovely warmth, she diminished slightly from it. Kasimir was so scarcely vexed that Nathaira had, perhaps, forgotten to consider it a possibility. Though she did not apologize (she was still too miffed for that) her face did soften around the edges.

She didn't speak right away. If she did, something snarky or cruel may come out. That is what snakes did, after all, when cornered: lash out. People should not ask questions when their lives are saved, and they shouldn't go looking for problems when they have been spared them. But that is what people did. At least one villager would dig where they should not, and if they discovered the truth...

She swallowed. The people would be far less forgiving to killers discovered hiding in their midst than they would be to those offering their knowledge openly. Fuck it all... Kasimir was right.

She took a breath, and then another, letting the cool night air slow her thoughts and her heartbeat. Assassins or instructors? Both were terrible beneath Vel Anir, and Nathaira had been cruel in both roles. Rumer could forgive as many times as she pleased, Nat knew she did not deserve it. Still, maybe she could be better this time.

She leaned her head on "husband's" chest. "Can we talk about it tomorrow?"

 

[Kasimir]

Kasimir's shoulder's sagged with relief. It wasn't quite winning the argument, but it wasn't losing it either which he so often did with his Nathaira. He never liked to anger or upset her and more often than not she was right. It was easiest to agree and he preferred it that way for he knew that Nat always wanted the best for them.

Mostly.

He slid his arm about her waist and nuzzled into her hair in silent agreement.

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira slept uneasily that night. She was unable to keep her thoughts still as she contemplated what tomorrow would bring. If only she could claim she didn't know how to execute such a plan, where to start or how to enact it... but the pair of them were far too clever for that.

Nathaira knew exactly who they should present their idea to, who to first recruit, who to go to for supplies and support. She, and likely Kasimir as well, had catalogued each person in the hamlet according to their role, their connections, and the threat they could pose. It was an unconscious but quite permanent effect of Nathaira's life underground. As much as she hated herself for it, the former Forsaken could probably destabilize this village in a single night. Saving the village... that was a much more difficult puzzle. The earliest birds were already chirping in the dark when Nathaira finally closed her eyes, and she only stirred once Kasimir began to move.

For almost all of her life Nathaira had not had choices in clothing. She had a singular attire that was as functional as it was cheap. When it became clear that wearing the same outfit day after day would draw suspicion in their new home, she had chosen her clothes based on what would draw the least attention: something common and plain and that hid her more inhuman features. With time and comfort, however, she had become bold enough to choose things that she actually liked.

Today she went back to simple - a dark tunic and pant combination that she hoped would soften the insanity of what they were going to suggest. Her multitude of mossy braids fell about her shoulders as usual, unhidden by hood or cowl.

She did not eat, it would make her sluggish, and she had no appetite from the apprehension she felt. How much she would prefer to stab her way through this particular problem... but that was not who they were any more. Kasimir's words echoed in her head as she met him in the singular main room of their home.

"Misster Greenwater will not have left for the market yet if we're quick." Proposing this plan in private seemed prudent.

 

[Kasimir]

At Nathaira's wish, Kasimir had left the conversation alone for the rest of the night and put it from his mind when morning came too. He knew that if he was patient that she would come to him when she was ready to discuss it. Or... she would attempt to kill those men on her own in her twisted attempt to spare him from bloodying his hands. The latter was in part why he had risen early and set about preparing the morning meal for his little family. Rumer had yet to wake still and so the pair were alone when Nat approached him with her quiet comment.

It took the Shadow Singer a moment to process what exactly Nat meant when she spoke of the Smithy whom Kasimir worked for. His head tilted to the side and his brow puckered before realisation smoothed the creases. Surprise then something akin to happiness flickered over his features.

"Very well," he said in his soft way of speaking and finished off the meal he had prepared. With care he wrote a simple not for Rumer and left hers covered on the side, and parcelled up their meal to take with them on the road.

The trip to town was not long and the familiar one they now trod to the Smith was even quicker for Kasimir had found the shortest route during the first few months of procuring work with him. As it was they caught Greenwater just as he was finishing loading the cart for the morning market.

"Kas! I didn't have ye down for working today," he smiled when he saw the pair but the smile faltered a little at the expressions on their face. "I... take it this ain't a social call?"

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira’s tongue flicked through the air all the way to the smithy’s. The morning’s odor was thick with dew and moist dirt that the sun had not yet baked dry, while Kasimir’s carefully prepared meal remained a constant backdrop. The tiefling’s scent was one she had become most intimately familiar with, and it helped steady her nerves and dull the prickling doubt at the nape of her neck. It had been over a year since she had snuffed out the rune that was branded into that spot, but she scratched at it all the same. While it lay dead, she could still feel the shape of it etched against her flesh.

“Afraid not, Ssir.” Nathaira answered the smith. Her amber eyes scanned the area for his wife and children, luckily neither of which were present. “You were at the village meeting last night, yess?” She knew he was. Everybody was.

“There iss… much we must discusss.”

Nathaira knew how to speak to Mister Greenwater. She knew what to say to get him to agree. She had been trained to get people to agree, willingly or no. The trouble was that she now cared what he thought of her, Kasimir, and (predominately) Rumer. It had weakened her, and made her fear losing the man’s kindness.

Better than him losing his life, she reminded herself.

 

[Kasimir]

Leo Greenwater seemed to study Nathaira for a moment before deciding the weight of her gaze was enough to be late to market this day. He took a breath and unhitched the wagon from his horses, tying them up once more to the side of the forge, then motioned for the couple to follow him inside.

The embers of a forge never truly died but they were all banked in their furnaces this morning, for nobody worked on a Sunday. For many it was a day of religious significance in this region, but even for those who were outsiders it was a day of family. Work didn't happen on such days. The Master Blacksmith motioned for the pair to sit on one of the benches they would sit on to take a rest in between swings of the hammer.

Kasimir found it odd to sit there when not covered in hard earned sweat but he did so, trying to radiate calm to Nat.

Greenwater sat opposite them with a grim expression.

"So... yer ready to tell me where you come from I take it?"

 

[Nathaira]

The forge was warm. Not as warm as when it was in full use, where the heat was oppressive even to Nat, but warm enough to put a pinch of extra vigor in her step. She took a seat on the bench as close to the furnaces as she could.

The smith’s astuteness took her off guard, and she could not suppress a single flick of her tongue. It brought back scents of ash and metal.

”Where we are from,” she began, ”What we learned, it could be of great sservice to the village if… if the worst should arrive.” She allowed the warmth from the forge to soak into her and felt her mind quickening, her thoughts coming crisp and clear. She looked Mr. Greenwater dead in the eyes as she continued. He had not shied away from her serpentine gaze before, hopefully he would not lose his resolve once the truth was out.

”I fear you would be in much greater danger if you knew where we come from. Ssuffice it to say, we know how to fight. We know how to fight very, very well. We wished to never do so again… but we can help.”

That last part had been difficult to get out. Nathaira still didn’t fully know if they would be helping the village, or guaranteeing their slaughter.

 

[Kasimir]

"We  want to help," Kasimir gently corrected and took Nat's hand in his, setting it on his lap to give her further support. "You have all been so kind in accepting us, making us a part of this community. Giving us a... home. We want to fight to keep it."

Master Greenwater seemed surprised by how much Kasimir had spoken. The teifling enjoyed his silence and usually the pair exchanged little more than a few words throughout the day. He cleared his throat and shook the shock off.

"Well... I can tell how much it took for yer both to come and say those things and I'm sure we can get by without needing to know the specifics of where you... studied. But what could you teach? Most of us with experience are grey in the beard and the youth can't possibly learn in the time we have. What's your plan?"

 

[Nathaira]

Plan. That was a generous word. Nathaira didn’t feel like they had a plan. They had an idea, a notion, but not a plan. Almost every plan Nathaira had made before ended with someone being killed. Their escape had taken some planning (and a tremendous amount of luck and improvisation), but it had focused entirely on themselves. A truly selfless act? No. No that was novel territory.

To be honest, the smith was echoing Nathaira’s initial doubts. No matter the Forsaken’s skill, they had little time to teach let alone practice. Her tongue tasted the air again. Soot overpowered most other scents, but she could detect Greenwater’s sweat. It was nervous.

But they had committed to this plan of action. Nathaira took a breath. No turning back.

”We will need armaments, and the support of the people, both of which you can provide.” She felt her anxiety rise. He could provide these things, but would he?

”Kas can explain.” She volunteered him. He had talked her in to this madness, he could likely convince the smith better anyway.

 

[Kasimir]

Kasamir's yellow eyes flickered to Nat and lingered there for a brief pause before returning to the smith.

"We can teach basic drills in a few short hours. As you say, these men are not soldiers but knowing how to hold a sword or an axe is better than not being able to," it would give them a chance. A chance they wouldn't be given without it. He took a deep breath. "You have all welcomed us into your lives here and we have appreciated it... more than you can imagine," a glance to the woman who sat beside him laden with meaning.

"We would repay this kindness with... attempting to stop this disaster even reaching you. We could have gone last night but we did not want to do this from the Shadows. It would seem... an insult to the kindness you have shown us."

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira furrowed her brow for just a second. Last night he had not approved of them assassinating the warband’s leaders. Had he had a change of heart? Did he just want to be honest to the town about what they were doing?

”We have time,” she chimed back in. ”It iss unlikely the army will reach us sooner than five days. Four, if they are quick.” It was still a very short time to attempt turning farmers into fighters.

”Anyone who cannot, or will not fight musst go. Those who sstay will keep the town running, and will have to fight.”

She subconsciously slid her hand along the bench closer to the furnaces and their heat. This was where he would either tell them he was in, or that they were out of their minds. He hadn’t immediately disavowed them, though, so that was already better than Nathaira could have expected.

 

[Kasimir]

The Old Smith's brows drew into a frown as both of them spoke and the type of expression Kasamir had seen him get when considering a piece of ore that would not bend, descended over his face. He knew when his mentor got that expression it was best to wait so that is what the teifling did, with a gentle pat to Nat's hand to reassure her all was well.

Eventually, the smith seemed to come back to himself with a nod.

"It's not right to ask you two to fight for us alone. This is our town too and I know it don't sit no right with me, and I know a few others it won't be sitting right with either to send you young people off alone. No matter what you say you can do. I can get a little group with no trouble, there'll be enough here to tend to issues. But that's my counter."

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira focused her attention on the forges while the smith thought, letting the comfort of the heat overpower the unease of the situation. She laced a quiet finger around Kasimir's thumb and held there. She liked to touch Kasimir when she needed reminding to think as a pair, as a group, and not a lone assassin.

Her jaw was tight at Greenwater's reply, but she did not protest. She gave a curt nod in acceptance. "Can you get thiss group by tonight?" They did not have time to slowly convince people, and if they were to have any hope at all they needed to start training yesterday. By now her body had been warmed through, and she was getting antsy.

 

[Kasimir]

Kasimir expected Nathaira to protest, or at least give him the type of look she sometimes gave him when Rumer was about to do something unwise. It said well, are you going to do something? But it never came. Still, he found his eyes flickering to her face to see if she would give away anything of how she was feeling. Of course, like all Forsaken, it was near impossible.

"Yes, I can meet you both this evening when the church strikes six. We will meet here," he nodded, seemingly content that the pair had accepted his deal. One of his more usual smiles wound its way across his lips. "It never did fit well with me letting the fight get here. Anyway," he slapped his thighs and stood - a sign Kas had come to learn was a humans way of wanting to end a conversation and get on their way - "Get your affairs in order and I'll see you then."

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira nodded and stood quickly. Her muscles felt strong, warm, and ready to go. She remembered to thank the smith for his time just before pulling Kasimir from the forge. She wasn’t taking them anywhere in particular, just away from that painfully uncomfortable conversation. Even though the smith had not said anything hurtful, nor had he lost his faith in the pair of them (quite the opposite, it seemed), Nathaira still grew very anxious at prolonged discussion. It was as if the longer she lingered, the better chance someone would realize, all of a sudden, that she was a grotesque monster.

The sun had risen higher and begun to bake dry the morning dew, though the air was still cool compared to the forge. Nathaira did not let go of Kasimir’s hand and kept walking at a brisk pace along the country path until the smith was obscured from view.

Only the did she drop Kasimir’s hand and turn to him. ”We need to make ready,” she said, and started pacing. ”We can use one of the fields to train, or perhaps a barn… but combat will probably be outside. It will be mostly men… pikes would probably be easiest but we haven’t the numbers… we could teach basic swordplay to most of them...”

She was clearly agitated. Her tongue flicked in and out regularly, slurring her words. The heat in her body kept her mind and muscles in motion as she turned over ideas. This wouldn’t be so bothersome if she didn’t care about these villagers.

 

[Kasimir]

Kasimir came to a stop and slid his hands into his pockets as Nat began to pace. This was the difference between the pair. Nathaira had to work out the answers quickly, come up with a plan, and work to it. Her feelings bubbled up to the surface in moments like this and could overwhelm her decision making. Kas, on the other hand, turned inwards and quiet when trying to process what to do next. He couldn't work out the solutions or plans as quickly as the woman he loved - a quality in her which he admired immensely. He often felt useless to her in these moments for he could offer nothing useful just an ear to listen with.

When she finally trailed off, he stepped forward wordlessly and enfolded her in a tight hug. He stayed like that for some time. Quiet. Unmoving. Hoping that she could feel all of the things he wanted to say but for which he had no words for yet.

"We will work it out," he promised with a kiss pressed against her forehead. "These are things we could do in our sleep. They will be well and perhaps... perhaps they will not need to fight at all."

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira allowed Kasimir to hold her, and allowed herself to fold into his arms. She inhaled his scent deeply, listened to his heart beating next to her ear, let his warmth soak into her. She let the thoughts fall away, bit by bit, feeling them dissolve into quiet nothing. She could pick the pieces back up later. Or not. Maybe she would just stay like this forever. Maybe she would crawl under Kasimir's coat and shirt and live there happily ever after.

She could only relax like this next to him, and even that had taken quite some time. It took a long time to trust anyone enough to let her guard down, to let herself be placed in a vulnerable position. Even Kasimir, who she knew would never harm her... it had taken practice.

The kiss snapped her out of her more ridiculous fantasies. "Unless we sslay them all, the people will need to fight," she argued, but her heart wasn't really in it. It was hard to be anxious when she was being gently squeezed and warmed from her ears to her toes. Her tongue lashed out again and tickled the edge of Kasimir's shirt.

"How can you sweat all day in that forge and still smell this good?" She could feel her thoughts being pulled back to the "mission" at hand and tried to keep herself rooted by the man that was in front of her. "Makes me hungry," she murmured, and she leaned a little closer against him.