Amanda nodded and looked at her keys again. Her keys now. Her money, and her caravan. It was her responsibility now. Having been protected and mollycoddled almost her whole life, never been allowed to talk for herself, fight for herself, or make a decision for herself, she suddenly had to take care of herself now, in a world that wasn’t known to be forgiving or merciful about mistakes. It wasn’t before she looked up to see the two mercs’ faces blur that she heard the choked sobs and realised that she had spoken her thoughts out loud; and overcome by terror and grief she felt her last strength leave her.
Her knees buckled under her, and as one of the mercs caught her arms to prevent her from hitting the ground she fell against him, shaken by helpless sobs as if caught and rattled in a giant fist. Feeling the man stiffen she realised what was happening and tried to fight for strength and composure, fight down the tears and sobs. “Sorry... oh god, I’m...” She weakly attempted to push herself away from him again, ashamed, no, mortified for some reason that these men should see her like this. After a second, however, she felt the merc clumsily put an arm around her and pat her back. “It’s all right girl”, he said in a low voice, it was not the ginger one called Steve, but the other, the taller, broader one whose name she didn’t know yet. “Maybe it’s better if you just get it all out.”
Too spent by so many tears and too worn out by so recent, raw grief she was unable to refuse the luxury of being offered a shoulder to cry on. She dropped her head against his chest and wept, for how long, she had no idea. In the end her tears ran dry, her breathing calmed, and as a strange, heavy numbness spread out inside her when she realised that he was still holding her, and that his arms around her had their own calming effect on her. He felt solid as a rock and his smell, sweat, leather, gunpowder and cigarette smoke, together with the strength of his arms gave her a strange feeling of security she had never known in her life. But even as she wondered how she could feel like this about a complete stranger she didn’t even know the name of, she recoiled with the realisation of what she was doing. She pushed herself away from him and this time he let go, his face unreadable as she looked up at him.
“Sorry”, she muttered again. “Sorry for bawling like that. I’ll... Thanks.” “No need to apologize.” His voice was dark and low, but somehow gentle. “At least that’s given to you. Would be terrible if there was no one willing to give a few tears for those who passed away.” Wiping her eyes again Amanda shrugged, wondering briefly what had made him leave his home behind and embrace the long road, the harsh and difficult life of a mercenary. “They’re my parents.” “Exactly.” With that, he turned away and lit another smoke that he had between his lips all the time.
Harkness came back before she could think of another reply. “I found you a place to stay, Miss Amanda. Please follow me, I’ll see you there.” Amanda nodded and bent down to pick up her crate, but the merc called Steve was faster. He shouldered it in a quick move. “Here, let me.” With a shy and embarrassed nod of her head, Amanda clenched her hand firmly around the keys and followed the security chief who had given the wiry man a nod of approval and thanks.
The place Harkness had found was hardly more than a broom cupboard, a small and narrow cell, but it had a cot, a small shelf in a corner and a door you could lock. “It’s not much, but it’s private”, the chief said as the merc dropped the crate off in a corner, and handed her the key. “Here.” “Thank you”, Amanda said again. “I still don’t know... You really don’t have to do this.” “Trust me”, Harkness said after a firm look into her eyes that made a small feeling of unease creep down her spine. “I do.” With that he gave her a nod and left her to stare at his retreating back in puzzlement.
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timeasmymeasure
Stronger than death itself 4c/?
Date: 2012-05-10 03:31 pm (UTC)It wasn’t before she looked up to see the two mercs’ faces blur that she heard the choked sobs and realised that she had spoken her thoughts out loud; and overcome by terror and grief she felt her last strength leave her.
Her knees buckled under her, and as one of the mercs caught her arms to prevent her from hitting the ground she fell against him, shaken by helpless sobs as if caught and rattled in a giant fist.
Feeling the man stiffen she realised what was happening and tried to fight for strength and composure, fight down the tears and sobs. “Sorry... oh god, I’m...” She weakly attempted to push herself away from him again, ashamed, no, mortified for some reason that these men should see her like this.
After a second, however, she felt the merc clumsily put an arm around her and pat her back.
“It’s all right girl”, he said in a low voice, it was not the ginger one called Steve, but the other, the taller, broader one whose name she didn’t know yet. “Maybe it’s better if you just get it all out.”
Too spent by so many tears and too worn out by so recent, raw grief she was unable to refuse the luxury of being offered a shoulder to cry on. She dropped her head against his chest and wept, for how long, she had no idea. In the end her tears ran dry, her breathing calmed, and as a strange, heavy numbness spread out inside her when she realised that he was still holding her, and that his arms around her had their own calming effect on her. He felt solid as a rock and his smell, sweat, leather, gunpowder and cigarette smoke, together with the strength of his arms gave her a strange feeling of security she had never known in her life.
But even as she wondered how she could feel like this about a complete stranger she didn’t even know the name of, she recoiled with the realisation of what she was doing. She pushed herself away from him and this time he let go, his face unreadable as she looked up at him.
“Sorry”, she muttered again. “Sorry for bawling like that. I’ll... Thanks.”
“No need to apologize.” His voice was dark and low, but somehow gentle. “At least that’s given to you. Would be terrible if there was no one willing to give a few tears for those who passed away.”
Wiping her eyes again Amanda shrugged, wondering briefly what had made him leave his home behind and embrace the long road, the harsh and difficult life of a mercenary. “They’re my parents.”
“Exactly.” With that, he turned away and lit another smoke that he had between his lips all the time.
Harkness came back before she could think of another reply. “I found you a place to stay, Miss Amanda. Please follow me, I’ll see you there.”
Amanda nodded and bent down to pick up her crate, but the merc called Steve was faster. He shouldered it in a quick move. “Here, let me.”
With a shy and embarrassed nod of her head, Amanda clenched her hand firmly around the keys and followed the security chief who had given the wiry man a nod of approval and thanks.
The place Harkness had found was hardly more than a broom cupboard, a small and narrow cell, but it had a cot, a small shelf in a corner and a door you could lock.
“It’s not much, but it’s private”, the chief said as the merc dropped the crate off in a corner, and handed her the key. “Here.”
“Thank you”, Amanda said again. “I still don’t know... You really don’t have to do this.”
“Trust me”, Harkness said after a firm look into her eyes that made a small feeling of unease creep down her spine. “I do.” With that he gave her a nod and left her to stare at his retreating back in puzzlement.