.. | the waterstreet mill | chapter 5 At first I paid no real attention to Ghen's words. I occupied myself with work and was rewarded to find how patrons who were used to my face would leave an extra bit of money for me as they left. Ghen told me to keep it; he said it was my reward for working well. Real money in my hands was a new feeling, and my first thought was to send gifts to Archer and Aislinn. What to get them would require more thought, so I saved and saved. Very soon I had to ask Hunter to do something with it for me, since I couldn't keep that much money just sitting in my room. As the weeks went on I soon forgot Ghen's words, too involved now to think whether his warning had any true meaning behind it. I was in no danger of falling for Hunter, was I? After my first few faltering encounters with him, surely I had collected myself enough to handle it. I mean, how could I ever be foolish enough to fall for something so unattainable? Well, perhaps because I'd done it before? For those first few weeks it remained quiet in the back of my mind and I went on with my routine. However, as comfortable as I was becoming, I had been at the Mill only a month before I started really noticing something strange about the staff. And then it was only two weeks later when something terrifying happened that would change my outlook on life forever. What I noticed was how in the back bar it was only I and a few select others that seemed to be the ones doing any of the real work. All the rest of the staff would get sidetracked by something or someone, and most could be found actually sitting and sharing a drink with their tables. At first I thought it was something to do with how long they had been working there, but after a while I saw that even this wasn't the case. It made no sense to me, but being the newest one I felt it wrong to question anything. I should just go with it. After all, when I was lax with the work as they were I was certainly given reprimand. It must simply be the way of things. So I didn't voice my observations, when even Hunter didn't seem to notice that half his staff was sitting with the patrons instead of getting them food and drink. I supposed he never stayed long enough; eventually he would always wander out and I would be left with nothing to focus on but my work. A couple weeks later, however, the unbidden truth came hurtling at me. I was tending my tables, getting very used to their cat-calls and suggestive manners. Ghen had been choosing my clothing, and for that I seemed to invite double any attention I might have wanted. My shirts were always loose or partially open to the muggy air, trousers snug and fitted to my body, hair gently mussed and in my eyes. He seemed to take great pride in dressing me up- every night before the crowds swelled, he would flick my hair and tell me again that I was adorable. And then I would smile shyly and look away. The heady atmosphere was addicting. To be able to smile openly and to be smiled at; that was something I never thought I would be doing. I know now that my first lessons had really begun around this time, before Hunter, and before I... well, I'll get to that. All of my tables were filled but the one nearest the back that had only one occupant. He was ruggedly handsome and looked like he was into some rough trade, leatherwork or the like. He was dark and brooding but with a flash of a white smile he seemed to save for only me. It was a humid night, though an occasional brisk wind outside foretold that the air would get colder later on. The breezes hinted at the coming winter and rain. For now, though, I was still wiping sweat from my brow with my wrist, probably looking quite the part for what he was looking for. "Hot?" he asked, his voice smooth. I set his ale down and wiped my hands on a towel. "The same as any other night," I replied politely, giving him a smile. "Anything else for now?" He flipped two gold coins on the table and we watched them spin to a stop. I'm sure I just stared at them for a moment. There was no way I could make change for coins like that, and I was just about to tell him so when I caught his wink. "There's more where that came from," he said. Unsure of what to make of it, I slid only one coin from the table, sure that I could gather enough to give him change back. "I'll be right back," I said and retreated into the kitchen. Hidden from his sight, I leaned against the wall, clutching the coin in my hand. My heart was beating so fast, but it wasn't excitement I was feeling, or even nervousness. This feeling was apprehension. Uneasiness. There was something I hadn't liked in his smile this time. After a few breaths I chided myself for being so suspicious. He'd been in here before several times. Had always been friendly, even flirtatious in his own way. He always paid well and left extra for me. He was as good a customer as any. I scraped up his change and prepared to go back out, but when I turned to leave the sidebar of the kitchen, he was suddenly right there in front of me. Startled, I felt my heart spasm in my chest, but outwardly I plastered on an innocent smile and reinforced my reserve. I was about to dig out his money when he caught my wrist. "I was about to bring your change," I said. He smiled. "Clever boy. I didn't want change," he said, his grip tightening and my alarm beginning to rise. My eyes darted around but back here no one could really see us, not with his larger body blocking the way. It was only a narrow hallway and behind me there was a door that lead to the back courtyard. If he would let me go I could escape through there- How easy it would have been to just yell for help. But my mind still hadn't registered what he wanted, nor was I really planning any kind of escape just yet. Not until his smile turned ugly and he roughly shoved me back through the door. I tumbled down the few steps to the ground, dazed. "I heard you get what you pay for in this place," he was saying. My head throbbing, I could only look up at him as he came down the steps, boots heavy and loud. "And I want what I've paid for." I would learn later that about that time Ghen was peeking into the bar room to check on me, as was his habit. When he didn't see me, he checked the kitchens as well and then asked a few who were nearby if they had seen me. By that time, however, I was already running through the back paths with that dark man close at my heels. Ghen looked a few other places he thought I could be before he blessedly noticed that the man I had been waiting on was gone too, his unfinished drink and a gold coin still sitting on the table. Not waiting for further clues, he bolted through the bar room into the back hall where crowds mingled in a quieter, more… conducive atmosphere. He found Hunter where he knew he would, but where I would have never thought to look. In a dark corner away from everyone else, his back to the wall and his hands in the hair of the attractive young man who knelt in front of him. Mind you, I found out about that later, much later, and that's a whole story unto itself. But I can just see Hunter leaning there, his head tilted back against the wall, lips parted. I can see him lazily turning his head in slight confusion when Ghen came up to them and said, "Micah's gone and so is that creep who's been stalking him all night." I was running, my heart beating like it would pound a hole right through my chest. My body ached from my fall- I'd hit my head on the stairs- and now the branches of the trees I fled through cut me like whips. Somehow I had passed the garden walls and was in the open woods behind the property, blind to everything. Besides the vague hope that I could lose him in the trees, it was only the most basic of survival instincts that kept me going. I could hear him running behind me in rhythm with my own panting, the sound of his boots crunching debris on the ground the only way I knew how close he was. My mind was screaming for help but my throat refused to work at anything but getting air into my lungs. I tripped, inevitably. The ground met me with the force of my speed, knocking the strained wind out of me. It took me longer to get up than it should have, and he was upon me by then. With a desperate growl I rolled over on my back and kicked at him, fought him with my hands, raked my fingernails across his face. So many years of hardy work had not left me a skinny wraith, but the sheer size of the man was subduing enough so that all he had to do was bear his weight on my chest enough to squeeze the breath out of me. When he let off I gasped in cold air and swung out with all my strength. My fist landed itself and I heard the crack of his jaw which gave me reprieve enough to think I could get away. Momentarily free, I thrashed about in the moist soil, my fingers digging in, trying to pull myself out from under him. It didn't last long. He was upon me once again, dragging me back. I kicked and screamed and scratched and fought, but for all my struggles it appeared that I was only putting off the inevitable. He'd managed to rip my shirt open and his hand was now working to snap the laces of my breeches. I could smell the alcohol he'd been drinking mixed with the scent of the forest on his clothes. I could see flashes of his eyes, hungry and merciless. It was hopeless. I was exhausted and hurt and it seemed that his determination would hold out longer than my strength would. When I felt the night air on my exposed flesh I renewed my struggles, but inside I think I had already given up. I wanted Archer. I wanted the comfort of Aislinn's arms. I hardly remember what came after that; it all happened so quickly. My assailant suddenly let out a loud howl and arched his body. He slumped down on me with the force of dead weight, gurgling in his throat. I could smell blood, feel it on my hands but that was the least of my concerns. Almost blinded by sweat and dirt, I managed to look over his shoulder. Hunter was there, straightening up his posture from the long-blade knife he'd just thrown deep into the man's back, severing something vital along his spine. Hunter's brow was moist and his breathing labored as he leapt some fallen tree branches that blocked his way to me; he must have been chasing after us, only a few seconds behind. Dazedly I saw that Ghen had come too- he made it to me first. With a curse, he shoved the body off of me and helped me to sit up. I could feel his hands shaking as he hugged me against him, brushing dirt from my face and hair and whispering soothing words to calm me. I clung to his wiry frame numbly, staring at Hunter as he slowly knelt beside us. He took only a second to look me over. Through blurry vision I stared up at him, still clinging to Ghen like a frightened child to his mother. But when Hunter whispered my name and reached a tentative hand out to me, it was too easy to just lean into his arms. Up until now I had not shed a single tear, but when I felt Hunter's arms come around me, I couldn't help myself. Shamelessly, I clutched his open shirt, buried my face against his throat and began to cry. He rocked me gently and smoothed my hair, whispering in my ear that it was all right. I remember his warmth and solidity, the softness of his shirt and the strength of his arms. The heat rising from him had his scent. I closed my eyes against my tears and felt safe. Hunter carried me all the way back to the inn and up to his rooms by a back route so that no one saw us. Ghen was close at his heels. Maneuvering me around as if I couldn't move on my own, they sat me on the side of Hunter's bath and he started the water running. I must have looked a frightful sight, covered in dirt and spattered blood, but I didn't care at that point. The smell of the woods and that man's breath still filled my nostrils, and I could still taste grit in my mouth. I wanted to scrub my flesh so hard it bled, but my limbs refused to heed me. With Ghen by my side, my tears stopped as I found a strange comfort in him being there with me, staying in bodily contact with me. I suppose I had never noticed how lithe of a frame he had until I had begun to cling to him. From under Ghen's chin, I numbly turned to watch Hunter, noticing also for the first time that he looked as if he'd been right in the middle of undressing when he'd gone in search of me. His shirt was open, the top laces of his breeches undone. My muddled mind managed to reason still that the night was too early for him to have been readying for bed. A cold realization settled in as I figured out what he must have been doing when this had all happened. I had only days before begun to know with absolute surety that when he left a room with someone it was always for one reason. I hung my head, fighting back more tears. My poor mind could only be so sorry for causing so much trouble and disrupting everything. How could I have been so blind and stupid? So helpless? I suddenly wished they would both go away and leave me alone to wallow in my humiliation and shame. "Ghen, can you get some fresh towels?" Hunter asked as he knelt in front of me to pull off my boots. When my friend left, Hunter paused and looked up at me. He saw me looking at his open shirt, and read my thoughts in my face. "It was no one," he said gently, over the din of the water basin. He peeled off my dirt-stained shirt and took the time to inspect the cuts and scrapes that marred my arms and elbows. With warm fingers he tilted my head back to see the bleeding bruise on my temple where I'd hit my head on the stairs. Satisfied that my wounds weren't too serious, he set to work on my breeches. I let him, not feeling my nakedness whereas otherwise I'd be blushing furiously under his scrutiny. It just didn't matter to me at that point. He guided me to the water and rolled up his sleeves. Ghen came back in, carrying his stack of towels. He set them nearby and whispered something in Hunter's ear. He nodded, and Ghen was gone. Hunter turned back to me, soaking a sponge and reaching to scrub my dirty face. With a gentle hand he tilted my head back again to see me better in the light. "We'll take care of everything," he said finally. "Try to relax." He set about washing the dirt from me and cleaning my cuts, touching me with a gentleness that reminded me of Archer when he had tended my wounded back. The recollection was unwanted. Still a little weepy, I simply sat there with my arms wrapped stiffly around my knees, and Hunter had to wrestle with me a little to reach my body, but did so gently in letting me otherwise close myself off. He picked the twigs and leaves from my hair and washed it too. "Come on," he said softly when he'd deemed me clean. He pulled me out and used the towels Ghen had brought to dry me. I was wrapped in the largest of them and he took my arm to guide me to the main room. Wordlessly he pulled back the rich covers of his large bed. "You'll stay here tonight, I want to keep and eye on you." I suppose I must have looked a little confused, so he gave me a gentle smile and a little push. "It's all right, Micah," he said. After he saw that I was tucked in and comfortable, Hunter excused himself to settle things downstairs. I rolled over and curled into a ball, clutching the sheets and breathing in their lavender scent. The sheets were fresh and immaculate- Hunter was very known for his addiction to clean and expensive things- but I couldn't help but wonder how many had lain here, or if there were many at all. Hunter had always been so discreet about his liaisons, at least when I was around. I wondered if they ever made it to the bedchamber at all. My mind wandered, attaching to anything but what I had just been through. Only a few moments later, right as I had turned to lay with my back to the door, I heard the hinges swivel and Hunter come back in. He had evidently settled the night's activities, or left someone else in charge so that he could be here with me. I listened to the soft sounds of rustling cloth while he changed into more comfortable linen from his night out clothing, and waited to see what he would do next. The bed moved. Hunter slid under the covers and touched my back. "Are you asleep?" "No." My voice was hushed, as if I had not used it in years. I felt his hand smooth back my hair. "How do you feel?" he asked softly. "Okay," I whispered. What else could I say? He didn't move but I could feel his stare. What was he thinking? Perhaps he thought that I wasn't really 'okay'. Perhaps he was right. "Come here," he said, reaching out for me. Amid bruises that were beginning to make themselves known, I stiffly rolled over so that he could pull me into his arms and rest against his chest. Hunter pressed his lips to my forehead, careful of my cut, and whispered something to soothe me. I sighed and closed my eyes. At that time I didn't realize what was happening; things were still a little too surreal. I didn't think about his warmth or the weight of his arms around me. I really didn't think about how our bodies were pressed together, so snugly that I could feel his chest and belly press with breath against mine. This was really the first bodily touch I would experience and it had to be in this manner. It had to be him, and I didn't even notice. Exhausted both mentally and physically, I nuzzled my cheek against the soft linen of his loose shirt and thought nothing of it. The only thing registering was that I was safe. I felt for all the world like I belonged there. Now here's a confession, and probably not a very surprising one at that. I think that was when I first really began to fall in love with him. Before, he had been Hunter, handsome and unreachable. Now he was Hunter, who'd been there in my darkest moment, rescued me, and I had slept in his arms. But I was not so enamored of him yet that I wasn't somewhat upset the next morning when I found out that no one had been totally honest with me, especially him. Because I wasn't privy to certain… information, I had not known what that man wanted or, more importantly, how to deal with it. At first I was alone when I woke up. Hunter had probably been up for a few hours already but I had been allowed to sleep far past the usual wake up time. Stiffly, I sat up in his bed, a little disoriented but my memory was still very fresh as to the events of the night before. It had not been a dream. I rubbed my weary eyes and allowed myself a good stretch of sore muscles. Tenderly I touched the large knot on my temple from my fall down the back stairs. Nothing appeared to be too out of place or mangled, nothing too sore or scraped up. A few moments later, right as I had begun to contemplate seeking out my own room, the door swung open and Hunter entered. He was bathed and fresh and indeed looked as if he had been up for some time already. My heart fluttered to see him, grateful he'd taken time out from his normally busy morning to look in on me. However, as I watched him come in, I began to realize that this was not a social visit. By the look on his face I could tell how little he cherished what he had evidently come to tell me. But he had always masked his emotions well, and after that momentary slip, he let a calculated, thoughtful smile creep to his lips when he saw me awake. He reached out to me the plate for breakfast he'd brought with him, but when I refused it, he didn't push me. Instead, he quietly set the food down and began his pacing, trying to figure out how to explain things. Finally, he stopped and looked at me. "I should have told you," he sighed. "But at the time I didn't think you were ready for that sort of thing." "What sort of thing?" I asked quietly. He hesitated. "There are people who work here that choose to... make a little extra money of their own accord." At my questioning look, he continued. "They make the choice whether or not to sleep with someone, and keep whatever recompense they may receive for it." My eyes widened. I was not so innocent not to know what he was talking about as a million words for the same thing crowded my head. Whores? Prostitutes? I looked up at Hunter. He'd started pacing again. "It's done under my roof but that is the extent of my involvement," he clarified. "It's their choice, I don't make them do anything. A lot of the young men who come to work here are poor when they start out, and I wouldn't stand in the way of a decent living." I was just mortified to the point of speechlessness. "Does... everybody do it?" I finally got out. "Most of them," he said softly. "Ghen?" He nodded again. "... You?" He didn't answer, but the look on his face was evidence enough that even he wasn't wholly innocent of it. "Not anymore," he finally answered. "I used to, when I was younger." I couldn't think of anything else to say. But now that he had told me that, I began to realize the obvious truth. The flirtatious way everyone conducted themselves around the guests suddenly made sense. Why I had always seemed to be much more busy with serving than most others, who merely sat there and talked. How, oh how could I have missed something like that? Hunter came and sat next to me on the bed. "I should have told you," he said again. "It's my fault you weren't prepared." By the guilt in his voice I knew that he'd been beating himself up over it. In my naivety I couldn't even be angry at him; he had at least been there to save me. I had not been ravished or killed, and selfishly enough I had come out of it knowing the comfort of sleeping next to him. He exhaled again, looking down at the coverlet. "Micah, I'm sorry," he said softly. I absently fidgeted with the lacings of his shirt cuff where his hand rested on the bed next to mine. I was looking at his fine silver rings. "I'm all right," I whispered after a moment. We looked at each other again for a long time before he got up, uneasy at our gaze. Dazedly, I watched him move away. Hunter cleared his throat. "Well," he started. "You get some rest. I'll send Ghen up to check on you later if you like." Why did it hurt so when he said that? Was he really so uneasy around me that he wanted send someone else? It didn't make sense, but I nodded silently anyway. Some company was better than none. With an approving nod, he turned towards the door and was gone. I just sat there by myself, wondering what in the world had just happened. In a few moments, Ghen came in. He fell back on the bed without ceremony and put his arms behind his head. I remained silent. "You seem to have landed yourself a comfortable spot," he commented with a little smile. "I wonder if we'll ever see you downstairs again." I fidgeted with the coverlet. "He'll toss me out soon enough," I mumbled. Ghen tilted his head at me, then gave a slight laugh. "I expect he will," he agreed. "Once he's sure you'll survive." I said nothing. At my silence, he sat up and looked soberly at me. A few quiet moments passed and I avoided his gaze. I wondered what Ghen was thinking as he sat there looking at me. "It happened to me, you know," Ghen said suddenly. "When I was a kid. Only I didn't get away." When my eyes met his, he gave me a little smile. "You get over it," he continued, casting his gaze to the ceiling. "I wish I could tell you that you'll eventually forget it, but-" He looked at me without finishing his sentence. I nodded again, realizing that Ghen was telling me something important to him. That I should learn from this, that it would be worse for me to try to forget it. But the selfish side of me was less concerned with what had occurred last night and more with the uneasy look in Hunter's eyes right before he'd turned away. Had I done something wrong? At the thought, I moved to get up. I had caused enough trouble already. Ghen watched me curiously as I wrapped myself in blankets from the bed. "What are you doing?" "Going to my own room," I said hurriedly. A quick peek out the door revealed an empty hall and I got ready to make a dash for it. Ghen caught my arm. "What's wrong with you?" When he turned me around I could tell by his face that he was surprised by my expression- I was almost in tears. He pulled me back into the room and sat me back on the bed again. In halting words I tried to explain myself. "I'm really all right," I insisted. "Besides, I don't want to be in the way, he's cross with me already-" "He was worried about you," Ghen cut in harshly, straightforward and true to form. "He blames himself for it. I can't imagine what he would be going through if he hadn't been able to reach you in time." Never mind what I would be going through. Ghen's slender hand brushed my hair back to soften his words. "What is it that's really bothering you?" he asked. "Come on, you can tell me." Up until now I'd never heard him be so serious, or dare I say, tender. I found it unsettling. Ghen was supposed to make me laugh and feel better with some campy remark. Instead he was beginning to push an issue I didn't want to face. I drew my legs up to my chest and hugged them, subconsciously trying to close myself off, and hid my face against my arm. "I don't understand him, I can never tell what he's thinking," I finally mumbled, as close to the truth as I could get. "Even if he likes me at all, or if I'm just a bother. I don't know any more about him than the day I got here, and I get so confused sometimes around him that I-" Ghen cut me off with a little laugh. "Is that all?" His making light of my feelings grated against my nerves even though it shouldn't have. He didn't know the half of what was going through my head about Hunter. "Here, I shall enlighten you," he said, sitting next to me on the bed and getting comfortable. "Hunter is what we like to call, well, premium stock," Ghen said with a turn of his wrist and a smile. I had a feeling it was another inside joke. "And everyone wants the top choice, right? But the thing is, he's been in this trade so long and has seen so much that it's not a way of life to him anymore. It's just business. Do you see?" Unfortunately I did all too clearly. If it was all business, then that meant that to Hunter, I wasn't a part of 'the family', as Ghen called it. I was just another commodity. Part of a well-oiled machine that wasn't pulling its weight. I had been accepted here to work and work well, hadn't Hunter said that himself? And so far all I had done was cause trouble. Such wretched things were running through my head back then, what a self-pitying child I was. Despite the accuracy of Ghen's perception of Hunter, could I ever have been more wrong about everything? "But he's still human," Ghen continued. "And believe me, he knows very well that he could have who he chooses." "He does?" How small my voice sounded. Ghen looked at me curiously. "Of course." He went on to tell me that when Hunter made his rounds through the bars at night, they usually concluded in one way. He would entertain and charm his way through patrons with self-assured ease, not even really searching for anything. But if an opportunity that was worthy enough to him should arise, he was not one to turn it down. What that meant was that he didn't just choose anyone. He was careful about it. Discerning and shrewd in who he did what with, and where. So why did it upset me so much? Why did I care so much when I thought I had already decided that I shouldn't reach for the unattainable? Was it because he embodied all that I wanted to be? Confident, self-possessed. Someone with enough conviction in what he wanted to get it. Archer had been like that as well, although in a much gentler manner. And like Archer, Hunter had captured my attention and respect the very first moment I met him. Ghen was considering me with a gentle gaze. "There are a lot of prospects out there," he said after a moment. "You could do it easily, if you wanted to." He played with my hair. "And who knows," he said, "with a little experience, you could even become premium stock." Within a day I had decided that it was best to try to get back into routine and push our conversation to the back of my mind. My return to work was something I didn't look forward to; surely the news of what happened was all over the place among the staff. I didn't want to see the stares and hear the whispers. I just wanted to fade to the background like I always did. However, as it turned out, everyone kept a polite silence about it except for a few who offered gentle smiles when I caught their glances. But that was the only acknowledgement of it. In their acceptance of me, I realized that the incident was over, and I should move on. Move on, but not forget. So that's just what I did. Life returned to usual and I adjusted as well as I could to the new way of things. I no longer worked myself into the ground in the bars at night. Instead, I adopted the more languid pace of my coworkers, but made it very clear to patrons that I was certainly not interested. Ghen had given me those exact words and they seemed to work well enough. No one ever gave me trouble or tried to argue; they just simply moved on. And I breathed a sigh of relief every time. It was hard on me, however, to have those blinders of mine removed. Everywhere I looked there was possibility and prospects. Open smiles, gentle touches, smooth words. It was a wonder those first few nights that I managed to escape without blushing myself into a fever. But soon I became used to that too, and could handle overtures with a little smile and a shake of the head to tell them that they were not for me. Hunter proved a little harder to deal with. I made it a rule to keep out of his way and out of trouble, though he treated me with the same courtesy that he always had, and even favored me with smiles that could be called encouraging when he saw that I was working hard. We never spoke of what had happened, mostly because I think his biggest fear was that things could have been so much worse. I myself got to a point that I hardly thought about it directly anymore. My lesson was learned; all was not safe and clean in the world, which wasn't so harrowing of a thought as it would seem. I grew up a little after that; Archer would have been proud. I had moved on, though the resulting caution of my ordeal remained, as it always will I think. A month passed. Then two. The winter of my twentieth year was full on and the bars were ironically more packed on those nights than any other season. It was the throng of warm bodies, the flow of heated cider and the heat of the coal fire grills. People packed in to enjoy the cold; it provided even more of an excuse to stand close together. I felt a familiar little pang of heat inside when I caught sight of young men nuzzling or kissing as they shared drinks and conversation. I suppose it still threw me off that I was one of them, that I could do that very thing that openly if I wanted to. Yet I still felt separated from them, because I still had not done the very thing that should make me "one of them". That reality was beginning to weigh on me. Of how I was faced with such contact every day, enveloped within our little world that advocated a preference that had gotten me scarred for life. I ached for it as much as I ever had when I still lived with Archer at the keep. It just didn't make sense! Here I was, able to explore to my heart's content all that there was to know about "my kind", and yet I remained on the outside, as much a spectator as ever. What did I fear by avoiding their suggestive smiles, their open invitations? What held me back? I could no longer blame it on my past experience with that dark man. No, this ran deeper than that. Whatever it was, I was getting anxious over it. I would lie awake at night, wanting nothing more than to scream out my frustration. I ached, I pined, I wanted, I needed. But I still didn't know how to get. One night, as a gentle sleet slushed against my windows, Ghen sauntered in, dressed in his silky nightclothes. I was tucked comfortably into the linens reading a book. He sat next to me on the bed with his usual grace and reached to play with my hair, a habit of his as a way of getting my attention. I watched his hand, finely boned, like a bird, but averted my eyes back to my book when he saw. "You've been here almost a year and still you come to bed alone," he said. "We should give you a pedestal out front and name you our resident vestal virgin." "I'm reading, Ghen," I said, not looking up from the page. "Oh, misery on your sodding book," he huffed. I let the book fall back on my drawn up knees. "What is it then?" He smiled, triumphant that he'd gotten to me, and continued his teasing. "Yes, our resident virgin with wandering eyes. I saw you staring tonight." "I wasn't staring," I protested. He put a finger to his lips in mock contemplation. "Hmm. Cute, green eyes, light hair. I saw you. You were planning your wedding already." I wanted to bury myself deeper into the bed sheets and hide from his gaze. I had been staring, watching that young man all night in fact. He had been tall and handsome, with a winning smile that he'd cast at me more than once over the evening. I'd had no idea that Ghen was spying on me. Ghen looked at me seriously for once, letting go of his teasing. "Micah, can I see your scar?" he asked suddenly. I stared blankly up at him, taken aback by the question. His curiosity didn't surprise me so much as his bringing up the subject at all. Indeed I had expected to be asked to show it much more than turned out, but that could have been just the politeness of people. So far, Hunter was the only one here that had seen it. After a moment's hesitation, I sat up and pulled my nightshirt over my head. Ghen gently brushed my hair aside and touched the faded scar with cool fingers. "Did it hurt?" he asked quietly. I pressed my cheek to my shoulder. "For a long time," I answered softly. He pushed me to lay back again and fixed me with a gentle smile. "But it healed," he said. "Yes, it healed," I echoed after a moment. He gave me a smile. "Don't you wonder what it's like?" he asked suddenly. Of course I did; he knew that well enough without me having to answer. I looked away. "Good," he said, "because I figured it out. How to get you the next green-eyed boy that walks through those doors-" He leaned forward, as if telling me a secret. "Join the game, as we call it." "Ghen-" "Don't give me that look. You could do it, I know you could," he continued, laying back on the bed like an excited child. "Think about it! In no time you could have your little green-eyed boy on his knees begging for you to-" "Ghen!" I squealed, hiding my face with my hands. "I could never do something like that!" He pulled my hands away. "Hey, it's business," he said seriously. "And what better way to build your confidence than by making them beg?" I was shaking my head but he insisted. "That's all you'd need, Micah," he continued. "A little assurance and you could have anything you wanted. Anyone you wanted." In his eyes I saw that the green-eyed boy was forgotten. He insinuated more than he would ever speak aloud- that there were bigger fish in the sea. Perhaps the biggest of all. "That's what it's all about," he continued gently. "It's the name of the game to know what you're worth. But it's not about the money, see, it's about what they're willing to do for you." He paused, touching the tip of my nose with his finger. "But I wouldn't know what to do," I said meekly. "Ghen, I have no idea how it, you know… happens." He nodded gently at my confession with a little smile. "Easy," he said. "You find somebody to teach you." "Teach me?" I couldn't believe I was actually continuing this conversation. Ghen appeared thoughtful. I knew he would never have considered it himself; he was too much of an older brother to me. And sometimes too much of a mother. "Someone tall and handsome," he said finally, "who knows what he's doing. Someone you trust." He knew all too well what he was doing all in giving me those measures. There were only two that came to mind that I would ever trust enough for something like that. But in my consideration of it, did that mean that I actually approved of the idea? When had I decided that? Yet, in the back of my mind I knew Ghen was right in his judgment of me. I was going nowhere fast if I continued to stay on the safe side of the road. I needed to fit in, to take another step forward. And what could happen after that? Who knew? All of a sudden, the idea began to intrigue me, of course while being equally flabbergasted at my own eagerness over the prospect of it. Two months ago I had been abhorred at the thought of that going on beneath this roof, and now I was actually considering "joining the game" myself. Dear god, what was happening to me? What I was beginning to realize, even as Ghen sat there, was that for now my scar meant nothing. I'd done nothing to merit it and yet the pain of it still resided permanently in the back of my mind. Was it for nothing that I had suffered so much? What had I lost my family and home for? I wanted to know. So I suppose that was it. I had decided to try something new, something scary and exciting. Something completely not me. Was it this place that had done it to me? I had grown up so sheltered compared to all the people here. Even at Archer's keep, where he had tried to teach me life, I was still tucked away from the rest of the world. With all their good intentions, I was realizing that I had still grown up shy and withdrawn. In being here on my own, was this plan a sign that I was finally growing out of that? Whatever it was, my decision marked a definite change, even if I hadn't gone through with it. Whether or not I became one of them didn't matter. At least now I believed I was brave enough. The only thing stopping me now was the fact that I had no idea how to go about... well, doing it. And that's where Ghen's suggestion had come in. The worst that could happen was that I would get turned down. And to tell the truth, I wanted to ask. Some strange side of me wanted to be face to face with him, posing that question. I felt that if I could get up the courage to ask something like this of him, then I really could do anything. If he said no, then I couldn't be much worse off than I was already. The other side of the question both interested and terrorized me much more. What if Hunter said yes? part 6 | back to part 4 | back to main