18-Apr-2001
"Where will we go, Warlord?" Her lieutenant stood by her, ever watchful.
"To the druids. We cannot simply march upon the capital to slit that bastard's throat. There are too few of us and he could easily convince the mob that we were attempting to violently over throw Elsinore." Charmiane sneered in disgust. "In Tipharies the mob rules."
"Elsinore is in danger." Haod frowned in thought, his deep cobalt eyes hidden under the fringe of his messy bangs.
"No. Dakalil will see to it that she is safe for the time being, but there is a limit to even your lover's resourcefulness." Charmiane knelt in the ashes of her ruined keep and for moment wished for the release of tears. She felt adrift in the world, without any grounding. The weariness ate at her soul. Haod gentle touched the young warlord's shoulder, a gesture of empathy and comfort in its rarity. "We will go to the druids."
"The druids?" Haod's voice betrayed his distrust. "Are you sure they will help us?"
"They have more reason than we to be hate the demons. They may not love people, but they love their land, their precious trees, and will fight to protect them." She rubbed her gauntlet-covered palm against her thigh where the wound from her last battle was a distant memory. "Rhiannon will help us."
"I hope so, Warlord." Haod watched the wind cause the dust, smoke, and ashes of his ruined home dance in the air. He ached, almost as much as his lord, for the loss of his adopted home.
Charmiane stood and tightened her fist until a few drops of blood leaked out from under her newly bandaged hand. She had sworn a blood oath, and she intended to keep it. Rhiannon would not like it, but she would understand Charmiane's heart. She always had before. "Tell the men to mount. I want to be at Tuatha Nuar before sundown."
"Tuatha Nuar. The place is cursed." Haod's eyes were a touch wide, almost impossible to tell, but Charmiane could see it as she could see the thin white scar that ran across his left cheek.
"Stories the druids' spread to keep from being disturbed. There is no more magic there than there is here." Charmiane stood in one smooth movement, her thick cloak sweeping thing ground. The pale mid-winter sunlight glinted dully over heavy war armor.
"They are sly folk, Warlord." Haod muttered as he stalked beside her. A man well accustomed to the sharp edge of the blade, anything that smacked too much of invisible forces made his hackles rise.
His lord rewarded him with a half laugh; bitter and sharp-edged like broken glass. She didn't turn, but he knew her full attention was on him, and he shifted uncomfortably under its weight. "The druids are honest, Haod, more honest than any other people you could hope to find. And that's why their frightening."
Something in her voice, some catch in it, whispered a hint of what thorn turned in her slender side. Haod slowly let out a breath half in wonder, half in frustration. "You've fallen for that silver haired witch."
"Watch what you call her, Haod." The chill calm in her voice carried a more deadly threaten then the rumbling warning of the dragons. She turned to stare into his dumbstruck face and smiled softly. "You aren't the only warrior to be tamed by sweet words, gentle hands, and a pretty face."
"Nor will I be the last." Haod shook his head. "A druid, Warlord?"
"A harper, lieutenant?" Charmiane asked in a half-joking, half-mocking tone.
He held his lord's gaze for a long time before laughing. He walked to his side, shrugged, and spread his hands in defeat. "Does she know?"
"She will, eventually." Charmiane muttered, scowling. Then a look of grim fatalism crossed over her face. "Perhaps it would be best that she never know. We are going into a war that I will most likely not survive."
"Those are a coward's words, Warlord, and I have never known you to be a coward." Charmiane frowned in thought at Haod's calmly spoken observation.
"Perhaps." The blonde looked out to the unnatural still sea, her eyes dark with internal conflict.
"They are planning to drop the colony, so it is most likely that they will evacuate with Relena in less than six hours." Heero merely nodded as Dorothy relayed the information that she had found. "Making sure the colony doesn't drop is, obviously, your primary objective, but try to rescue Relena as well."
"There will not be time, according to these calculations."
"Try, dammit. Just try."
He might not have caught it--that subtle change in her voice, but for a second he heard the fear under the frustration in her voice. A fear that he had felt when Duo had been captured rode the undercurrents of her voice. He understood that fear too well. "You love her."
"Yes." It was a simple question for a painfully simple question. Dorothy did not even blink as he asked; her expression was of one that has already given up on the possibility.
"Does she know?"
"No."
If he had been anyone other than himself he would have pushed her for a reason, an explanation as to why she would allow herself to be cut so deeply by her own inaction. But he understood perfectly well. "Tell her."
Dorothy closed her eyes, and smiled faintly. "No."
Heero scowled at the white static that filled the screen. He had the haunting feeling that this conversation had taken place before.
End Part 5
(:./dan/wyrd5)
