[maikafanawen]

When Wren came to her senses she was on the forest floor, the dense fog of the downs hovering just over her head. Sitting up was strenuous due to the massive headache she received along with the blow to the head. She felt the back of her neck and found a very large bump, the size of a robin’s egg. Grimacing she stretched and adjusted her eyes to the dark, making out a single man before her. He was hooded, although two barely discernible black eyes looked out at her.

“Well hello,” she said innocently, “tell me, are you my savior or my captor? I can’t keep things strait these days, or it could be the amount of damage done to my head in that last attack.” The man stayed silent and stared humorlessly at her. “Quiet one, aren’t we,” she said as though they had just met at a social gathering. She shrugged dramatically and pulled vainly at her hair. “This damn weather is treacherous to this. Can’t do a thing with it honestly. I’m going to be spending weeks in hair-therapy when—er—if I get home.” Her last sentence broke the stranger’s silence and made him laugh sadistically, revealing his raspy voice.

“Good girl. No savior to you am I.” He chuckled evilly, though Wren counteracted him with an unexpected laugh.

“Oh good. I’d be devastated if my savior turned out to be the likes of you. I was hoping for someone more along the lines of dashing, charming, sweep-you-off-your-feet—”

“Shut up!” hissed the man. The sound of footsteps could be heard audibly through the mist. It was Rangar & Co. (as Wren had took to dubbing them). It would be foolish to let them know she was there because the man before her did not seem hesitant in the least to kill her. Sitting back against the tree she waited until they passed before trying to speak again, but when she opened her mouth he shushed her again. The stranger stood, and grabbed her arm, pressing a dagger into the small of her back and steering her forwards. “Be quiet, you’re coming with me.”

“Yes,” she muttered sedately, “it would appear so.” The noblewoman dragged a hundred paces away from they were, and came upon a low outcropping covering a dry area of ground. He shoved her under the rocks and ducked in after her, concealing the both of them in the shadows. The dagger pressed into her back, working a hole in the back of her jerkin. “Mind the fabric please,” she whispered. He shot her a menacing look before peering back into the night fog, tightening his grip and not withdrawing the dagger in the slightest bit. “Well really,” she huffed. “I don’t see why you’re so cross. Problems at home perhaps?” He ignored her comment and pulled a cloak out of his pack, covering the two of them, causing them to blend more readily into the shadows. “Ah!” said Wren, recognizing the cloak as the one that belonged to the man who had first attacked her. “Well I suppose that covers that topic.” She peered out into the darkness abortively. “It’s dark as hell out there. What are you looking for by the way?”

“If you say another word, I swear to Eru I’ll slit your throat.” Wren went silent and waited for a good half hour until the man relaxed her hold and leaned back against the stone, pushing her a good bit away from him. He held the dagger up so she could see it plainly. “If you make a single move that makes me think you’re about to escape this will be your end.”

“I haven’t even considered escape! Now that you have completely captured my attention I can’t wait to find out what this is all about. What a story I’ll have to tell when—ah ha! Oops—if I get home. That doomsday thought yet again,” she chuckled.

“If you continue to aggravate me, you won’t be able to do much of anything ever again.” The threat went over the noblewoman’s head with a foot to spare.

“Shouldn’t we be finding something to eat? I hate to be the voice of reality but I don’t know how much longer I can last on an empty stomach. Believe me, you wouldn’t want to see me hungry, I can be very annoying,” she winked at him, and he stared back at her in disbelief, cursing his bad luck at choosing a hostage. He pulled forth a ration of dried meat and handed a small handful to Wren. She recoiled in mock disgust. “You jest! I can’t eat this!” He began to withdraw his offer but the woman reached out quickly, snatching the measly portion of food from his outstretched hand. After examining the food carefully she popped a piece into her mouth and chewed. “Puts up a fight, doesn’t it?” She swallowed dramatically and unclasped her water canteen from her belt taking a large gulp. “Ew. Nasty stuff that meat is.” She ate the rest quickly and washed it down with her water. When she was done she leaned up against the rock. The man sat motionless across from her, glancing every now and then into the distant gloom. “Do you suppose we could light a fire or something? I can’t see a damned thing.”

“What’s there exactly to see? There’s nothing but rock, ground, and fog. A fire would draw attention you fool. Of course you’ve realized that,” he twirled the dagger between his fingers, the blade swishing through the thick air. Wren nodded.

“Never overlook the obvious. I suppose we could talk about something else.”

“Must we?” he said leaning in and twirling the knife exceptionally close to her face. “I’d prefer if you didn’t say another word.” The noblewoman sighed.

“Well if that’s how you feel on the matter of conversation, fine with me. Don’t want to waste my talk on such a negative person now do I?” Wren spoke as if she had greatly insulted him, and turned away in a pout. Then she sighed, clapping her hands on her knees. “Shall I take the first watch? Not that I could see anything, mind you.” The man snarled.

“First watch? You’re a hostage!” he pointed out. “I’d sooner trust a thief.”

“That says a lot about your disposition,” she mused. “But if you insist, I’ll just doze a bit if you don’t mind. Goodnight.” The noblewoman folded up her cloak and curled up as if she was lying on a satin sofa. Within minutes she was asleep, or so it appeared. The hunter growled and turned his attention towards the forest. He would kill her the moment he got what he needed. It was his usual routine, and her annoying persona only made him hate her more.

* * *

Wren lay awake in the darkness for an hour after she pretended to be asleep. Her mind swirled with fear and her heart beat frantically within her chest. The man not five feet from her frightened her unlike anything had before. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep her act up before one of two things happened: she was rescued, or he killed her. The latter thought made tears of dread well up in her eyes. Forcing them back the noblewoman took a deep, melodramatic breath as though she was dreaming. Sleep came slowly and trouble with nightmares.

[ May 13, 2003: Message edited by: maikafanawen ]