Completed A Slow March [Sigrun]

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats 32nd of Winter, 513 AV, Late Afternoon Ninus waited nervously. He was at the edge of the Wildlands, too close to Syliras for any form of comfort. He squatted nervously, keeping his profile low and down. He'd hidden Jack behind some mulberry bushes, which the horse was enjoying with relish, curling his lips around the leaves and yanking them off the stiff branches. The poisoner hoped the horse would be quiet...he'd removed most of the packs from Jack's spine and moved them along the horse's sides and flanks. If he needed to mount the horse quickly and run, he could. Cricet was bristling. She was quiet, but her fangs were bared and the fur along her back was raised. She didn't like this. Syliras used to be her home, as it had been Ninus', but they were far too close to the place where her master's family had been executed. Their graves were a season and such cold, but it unsettled her as much as it did Ninus. The poisoner had loaded the brass syringe. He was taking no chances; a poultice quickly made from yew berries was contained within, with plenty of air bubbles. To be safe, he'd coated the shaft of the needle as well. All it would take would be a scratch, and a knight would be injured or dead. His first choice was to run, however. Taking on a heavily armoured creature like a knight toe to toe was a poor idea. He was still extremely thin from his season or so of starvation in the wilderness, though the dog meat would put a little muscle back on his frame. He still would never be as strong as those who had been trained to wield blades. However, he didn't need to be. He chewed his thumbnail as he waited for Sigrun, his ears pricked, eyes keeping an eye on any ambush spots. Even the slight noises of Jack's foraging were making him nervous. He found himself twitching when the horse yanked on a branch a little harder. He found it a struggle to keep his heart rate down...adrenaline was flooding his veins. "Thy feet must be fleet." he muttered to himself, frowning when he felt blood on his tongue and looked down at his torn nail. Sigrun needed to come back to him.

[Sigrun Dominic]

"There there, hey," was all she cooed throughout her walk down the road past the Syliran gates. Her new Zavian had a pale forehead with dark spots that matched the ones that marked the blanket of white upon his rump. He had deep auburn fur and a rich black mane that waved against the cold wind in time with his ebony tail. She loved him immediately.

It was the attachment she'd lost in the death of Snowe, an attachment that immediately found its way onto the silently grunting stallion whose name she had yet to decide upon. She was afraid to ride him, of the galloping sensation that will be unfamiliar to her, as the years that had passed since the time she had first learned to ride were dauntingly long. She lead him instead, with his leash, admiring the harnesses, the collars, the bridles, and the saddlebags she had to ask assistance for in order to put onto him. Luckily, Serena had assisted her with the equipment before she had left, and had even attached the new wagon behind the mount.

The wagon, although pricey, had been a good idea. The young blonde had not realized how many possessions she had had until she was going down the creaky staircase of the Traveler's Row with so much cutlery and cooking materials in hand. She had also purchased food for the travel, a sack of apples and even fish, hoping that she had either brought too much or just enough for her and Ninus, and even his large rat. She had only purchased enough horse feed for her Zavian, but nonetheless she felt willing to share a bit of it.

The wagon was weighted down by the sacks of food, the chest of cooking items, and a backpack filled with clothing. The Zavian, while already dressed in saddlebags holding shelter equipment, fared well nonetheless, his powerful muscles proving to be filled with strength. Sigrun's fingers shook lightly whenever she brushed them through the horse's silken mane, nervous and afraid. But he seemed to be warming up to her rather quickly, as he had even allowed her to feed him a bit of carrot before their journey.

That fact, however, did not conclude any newfound bond. Sigrun continued on walking slowly, liesurely, so as not to upset the horse. She sped up gradually to help him get used to the road, to the travel, until they were trotting a little faster, and had gone a lot farther. Sigrun smiled at the sky and at the late afternoon, at the orange lights and the growing shadows. Never before had the twilight looked so hopeful.

"Twilight," she looked at her new Zavian, speaking as if to suggest the name to him. The horse grumbled and shook its head.

"I agree," she laughed sheepishly, "too feminine."

She finally took notice of Ninus in the distance, sitting in the cold, sparse grass, looking nervous and alert. His horse was nowhere in sight. Sigrun shrugged, assuming he had hid him somewhere nearby so as not to alert any nearby knights. The young blonde smiled to herself. She was excited.

"I hope he likes walnuts," she muttered absentmindedly, having purchased the nuts out of impulse, thinking it would be a good snack to have on the road.

"Walnut?" she asked the Zavian meekly. His response was bleak as well. Sigrun shook her head and laughed to herself. "Perhaps I shouldn't leave it you, but I can't help but make sure it's what you want."

The horse nudged its nose against the young woman's cheek. Sigrun smiled and pushed on until she was within speaking distance with Ninus.

"I'm all set," she said happily, patting her new horse on the head and gesturing behind him, "I have all my things, and I've got us some food as well, all in the wagon."

"Though, I need a bit of help in uh- riding," she blushed slightly.

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus was on alert when she drew close, but luckily the cart was loud enough to herald her coming. He hadn't been expecting her to purchase a cart, but it would be something welcome to ride in when they were tired. He stood and settled the syringe in his kit, nodding to her. If the Zavian was connected to the cart she couldn't ride him...it would put undue stress on the horse. Instead he lifted some of Jack's heavier packs and settled them in the cart, nodding to the old stallion. "My companion is a calm soul. He will tolerate thy inexperience better than one already saddled with a burden." Ninus pointed out. It was good to at least get some of the weight off of old Jack. Some of the old books, weapons, and canvas were wearing more heavily on the old horse than a slight girl would. He brought Jack over to meet the Zavian. The warhorse snorted loudly at the other stallion and laid his ears back a moment until Ninus patted his neck and guided him toward Sigrun. He knelt and knitted his fingers together, offering her a leg up. "Put thy foot in my hands, and push thyself up. Thy horse cannot carry thee if he also carries his burden." he pointed out. Cricet leapt onto the new cart, examining the new things as well as the new horse.

[Sigrun Dominic]

Sigrun's spirits were lifted up at the sight of the dark-haired man. This was real, this was happening. Every single day before today was a struggle, a failure to find the strength and resolve to leave the citadel and find comfort in the company of strangers. The faces in the crowds of the Nettle District never once became familiar to her and yet the sight of all the people collectively was an image she could not forget. It was the scene that stayed the same, and because of that, so did the memories.

The memories hurt, and now that she was embarking into the unknown, to a place she'd only once heard of in passing, she could escape the past that has been haunting her for so long.

"My companion is a calm soul. He will tolerate thy inexperience better than one already saddled with a burden."

Sigrun's lips twitched. Did Ninus mean Jack? She gazed over at the old, black, stocky horse. Although he was bigger than her new Zavian, he looked decidedly weaker due to his age. His rump and saddlebags were so filled that it pained the young blonde to see him have to carry so much. Did he mean that he would teach her how to ride through the old horse?

Ninus began lightening the horse's load and placing some items into her cart. She watched, almost cheerfully, however, as the young man's large rat bounded over to the cart and observed her items.

"Careful," she found herself speaking to the creature, "save the food for when we need it!"

It was strange speaking to a rodent. Sigrun could only recall speaking to Snowe, and no other animal. Having no attachment to Ninus' pet, and more so any understanding of keeping a rodent for a companion, Sigrun felt slightly odd about it. She only hoped that it would not try and open the chest full of cooking materials. It would not be sanitary.

Rats, she thought. I completely forgot to bring water.

She hadn't purchased any, filled any bottles, nor refilled her waterskin. Sigrun bit her lip. Perhaps we'll find a stream.

Hopefully. She blushed with embarrassment, and was about to inform Ninus when he placed both his palms together and settling it in front of her, offering to give her a boost. The young blonde raised an eyebrow.

"Put thy foot in my hands, and push thyself up. Thy horse cannot carry thee if he also carries his burden."

"Oh," She responded sheepishly. But would Ninus walk?

A thought came to her suddenly, and her blush deepened, however for different reasons. Would the poisoner place her upon the horse, suddenly take her Zavian, and then leave with her cart full of items and some of his?

It was a swift, instinctual thought. Sigrun looked at the items he'd left on Jack. There was still a considerable amount that she assumed that he would surely miss. If this had been his plan all along, he would have incapacitated her instead and made a run for it while leaving the old horse behind.

But he knows I can fight, she thought, while settling her foot upon his palms and pretending to struggle with lifting herself up. She had never killed or injured anyone in her life, however, and that must be plain to see in his much more experienced eyes.

Either way, she decided, while hoisting herself up, there is still a lot of things on Jack that I'm sure he wouldn't abandon.

She trusted him. Sigrun finally managed to get herself onto the old horse's back, her cape almost getting caught between her hand and the saddle as she gripped upon it. Settling herself in, she thanked Ninus with a smile and a nod.

"But where will you stay?" she asked, grabbing the reins. She had no clue on what to do next; that much was evident on her confused expression.

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus took the reins of her new horse and patted his neck, watching Cricet curl up in a few of the blankets and fall asleep. She was far more suited to napping in the sun than destruction. Besides, she knew Ninus would have her hide if she ate half the supplies. Ninus clicked to the new horse and began leading him. "My place is on my feet." Ninus told Sigrun with a soft smile, leading the cart at a walk. Jack stayed stock still until Ninus glanced back and whistled to him. The old warhorse flicked his ears forward and followed the other stallion. It was a slow pace, but their muscles soon warmed and Ninus was able to stretch his legs. He kept his eyes on the horizon, leading them along the road. They would be able to stick to it for a while, then the rough road would begin. He looked up at Sigrun. "Thou art alone, as I am?" he asked. "Thy hearth and bed forsaken by others, no vow about your wrist nor babe at your breast?" The thought hadn't occurred to him before that she might have family she was leaving behind in Syliras. She was young, and he didn't want to take her away from a husband. Especially not to go to a place like Sunberth. His heart ached for companionship, at the very least a friend. He walked quietly, listening to Cricet shift and snuggle down in the blankets. "My poor lady deserves her rest. A valiant lance she is." he smiled fondly back at the large rat. It seemed Cricet might be his constant companion. Jack had a few odd possessions on his person that the poisoner wouldn't abandon for the world. One of them was a large zweihander that, despite his wants, he couldn't have left behind in the woods to rust. He'd left a sufficient altar to his brother's dear goddess, but the blade was for him. It was wrapped in canvas, but the handle stuck out near Jack's left shoulder. He'd had to hang it lengthwise from the saddle, as it was far too heavy to be anywhere else. A few tattered books were worth their weight in gold. His mother's knives. "If thy suspicions lie with me running alone...have faith. Thou hast my dearest possessions, and my father's dearest friend." Ninus reassured Sigrun as they walked.

[Sigrun Dominic]

"My place is on my feet," Ninus smiled softly, his hands reaching out for her Zavian's reins, leading him forward.

A sense of calm filled the young blonde, but she still had no clue how to urge Jack forward. Eyeing the horse's neck and body, she gave the stallion a puzzled look. Ninus whistled, signalling the old horse to begin moving. Sigrun gasped, her hands tightening around the reins in fear of falling. It looked to be quite a long way to the bottom from where she was sitting.

Her inner thighs had already begun aching slightly when Jack finally caught up to Ninus and her Zavian, his hooves finding the rhythm of the younger horse until they were trotting leisurely in unison. Sigrun sighed with relief and smiled, ignoring the soreness that came from her sitting position the best that she could.

"We could switch places," she offered, "when you tire out."

"Thou art alone, as I am?" Ninus asked after a brief pause, "thy hearth and bed forsaken by others, no vow about your wrist nor babe at your breast?"

Sigrun bit her lip. "Yes, I'm alone."

She paused and shifted her position on the horse, levelling her gaze towards the horizon instead of her traveling companion. It wasn't uncomfortable to talk about, but it was uncomfortable to say.

"Someone had forsaken me once, everyone else..."

She took a deep breath. It didn't make any sense, at least, it didn't to her. Her words could have easily been misconstrued into implying that she had lost a lover, either by his own cruelty or the seduction of another. Nothing of the sort had ever happened to her in the least bit. She wanted to continue the story, but she had paused far too long and he had began to say something else.

"My poor lady deserves her rest. A valiant lance she is."

She turned towards him, lips parted, before she realised that he was referring to his pet rat. Sigrun craned her neck to look at the creature. Her expression softened at the sight of it sleeping soundly in the piles of fabric. The young blonde hummed in response.

"She's sweet," Sigrun commented, glancing over to the rat.

After another brief pause, he spoke again. "If thy suspicions lie with me running alone... have faith. Thou hast my dearest possessions, and my father's dearest friend."

She grinned, eyes twinkling at the sentiment. "Thank you."

She turned to the old horse and ran her fingers through its soft mane. It was easier to humanise a creature with a more conventional sentimental value. She only wished she could hear more about the young man's rat to be able to understand how they had come to be so close.

Silence had begun to pervade the atmosphere. Sigrun watched the trees that lined the side of the road and found that nothing but the leaves were rustling. She took another deep breath and exhaled heavily.

"My father left us when we were young," she kept her eyes on the trees as she spoke, "my brother was seven, and I was fourteen."

She turned towards him with a sad smile. "My mother passed away when she gave birth to my brother, Sigmund. After that, my father was never the same."

"I had to take care of my brother by myself," she looked down at her fingers, wrapped around the leather reins.

Her voice gradually increased in sharpness and contempt as the memories returned; how her father had drew himself away from them as the years passed until he eventually left them behind for good.

It filled her with more anger than sadness.

"But after four years, he passed away too."

Sigmund had become her responsibility as soon as he'd been born into the world. He had become her world. But in her inexperience and stubbornness, his had health failed him. She had failed him.

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus listened quietly to Sigrun. Her father seemed to have abandoned the family when they needed him most, a sign of weakness. Or perhaps his own grief. He mulled over her words quietly; she seemed more angry at herself than sad at her brother's death. He had died of some illness or attack then, something she couldn't have foreseen or guarded against. After all, he got the sense that while she was a fine person she was no healer. "If thy hands were built for the sword, do not curse them for failing the needle and poultice." he said gently, trying to comfort her. He knew it was poor consolation after losing a family, he knew that better than most people. He reached out and patted her reassuringly. "My parents were deeply in love, but a poor mistake on my father's part turned my mother against him. They were...a tumultuous pair." Ninus said. "My brothers and sisters of the road wrote a song about them...a bit of affectionate mockery." he shook his head, smiling to himself. "Thy brother was lucky to have thee, as I was to have my own family. Keep that memory and hold it close." He stroked his hand over her horse's nose as they walked, wishing he had a bit of carrot or clover to feed him. He seemed to be a good horse, despite the fact that Jack kept giving him looks. A pair of stallions might have been a dangerous situation if the older horse was at all up to fighting.

[Sigrun Dominic]

"If thy hands were built for the sword, do not curse them for failing the needle and poultice."

She shifted in her seat and smiled softly as the dark-haired man gave her a reassuring pat. It was nice to have someone sympathetic around to talk to. It was nice having someone around in general.

"Certain people just can't help but blame themselves for everything when they lose something important," she thought out loud.

They had not been traveling for a good few hours and yet the soreness between her thighs had already begun to be a bit unbearable. Sigrun licked her lips and shakily tried to find a better position on the horse so as to alleviate the dull ache that was beginning to become far too uncomfortable. She tried her best to listen to Ninus as he began to tell her more about his own family.

"My parents were deeply in love, but a poor mistake on my father's part turned my mother against him. They were... a tumultuous pair."

Sigrun took the word "tumultuous" and committed it to memory. She would ask him later on what it meant, but gathered that it must not have meant a good thing.

"My brothers and sisters of the road wrote a song about them... a bit of affectionate mockery. Thy brother was lucky to have thee, as I was to have my own family. Keep that memory and hold it close."

She turned to him just in time to watch a smile play across his face. She wondered about the lover that he'd mentioned earlier, the one that had abandoned him. He seemed like such a pleasant man that it seemed odd that someone would leave him. She hoped that he wouldn't mind her asking.

"Your lover..." she trailed off, struggling to find the words. She didn't want to pain him.

"What happened to her?" she bit her lip, "I remember you mentioning a lover abandoning you, earlier.. in the woods.."

And about the woods, she thought silently, why were you staying there? The information must have been given to her earlier, and she had simply been unable to understand his flowery wording.

She had so many questions to ask him, questions that may have already been answered that had merely slipped through her inability to understand him. It amused her that she was traveling with someone she barely knew, someone she was only beginning to get to know as they were already embarking into a place she knew nothing about. Her impulsiveness had taken her someplace dangerous, but it was quite the thrill.

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus caught her confusion at the word. "Tumultuous means like the sea, full of thunder and roiling waves, never at peace, never quiet." he told her as he walked. He saw her discomfort...so she wasn't used to riding either. Well, he'd been told the only way to get rid of the ache was to ride it out. "Straighten thy back. Thy muscles will be stronger for riding, but if thou cannot stand it for longer, put a leg over his back. Ride like the ladies of old, with both legs tucked delicately together on one side." he told her. Riding sidesaddle had gotten himself mocked the few times he'd ridden Jack in the camp, but it had certainly helped alleviate the hideous ache that came with riding for hours. He sighed when Sigrun asked him about his lover. "A delicate creature, pale, from the world of the spiders. But only half of his blood was cobwebs and poison...his father was as human as you or I. Novus was his name. I gave myself in body to him in the place where I was raised...yet, as soon as I aided him in his quest to find his dear human father he vanished. Like smoke. I have not yet seen him since. Symenestra are known for a delicate turn of phrase, a flash of the throat or wrist, to entangle a man and make him forget his senses. I simply hadn't the knowledge that this extended to male half-breeds." he chuckled bitterly, shaking his head. He patted the horse he walked beside, stroking his nose idly as he thought about Novus. It had been a quick romance, and Ninus' heart had hardened considerably since. Pure, unabashed lonliness had led him to Novus' arms. "The path I walk, that all of us who bear this burden walk, is lonely with few campfires to the side of the road." he said quietly. "To find another whose heart had forsaken women...weakness took me, and the sun seemed to rise on that blackened road. If only for a few days. Now it is black again, and no campfires to greet me. No others. Thou art lucky to be of the fairer sex, the nature god did not slander thee with this. He laughs at my burden and dances men and women before my eyes, cursing me to a cold hearth and an empty bed." He was anxious about the road to Zeltiva. It would be a long one, and tiring. Watched by the knights...who knew what could happen if he caught them unaware, camping? He tightened his jaw; he knew what he would do. Put them down with the same agony his family had suffered.

[Sigrun Dominic]

"Tumultuous means like the sea, full of thunder and roiling waves, never at peace, never quiet."

Sigrun blushed, glancing towards him with wide eyes. Was she that expressive of her confusion? She smiled sheepishly and nodded, confirming her understanding.

"Straighten thy back. Thy muscles will be stronger for riding, but if thou cannot stand it for longer, put a leg over his back. Ride like the ladies of old, with both legs tucked delicately together on one side."

She raised an eyebrow. "Like this?"

Her hands instinctively tightened their grip around the reigns as she struggled
to put one foot over the horse's back. Her body shook. The young blonde bit her lip and sighed heavily, bringing her leg back in its original place. She was too afraid.

"Perhaps later," she chuckled shakily. The pain would go away eventually.

"A delicate creature, pale, from the world of the spiders. But only half of his blood was cobwebs and poison..."

Sigrun's expression changed. His? She tried not to make any more sudden movements or affectations. Ninus was attracted to men.

"His father was as human as you or I. Novus was his name. I gave myself in body to him in the place where I was raised... Yet, as soon as I aided him in his quest to find his dear human father he vanished. Like smoke. I have not yet seen him since. Symenestra are known for a delicate turn of phrase, a flash of the throat or wrist, to entangle a man and make him forget his senses. I simply hadn't the knowledge that this extended to male half-breeds."

Symenestra? Sigrun turned to him, looking genuinely puzzled. She wanted him to expound; she had never heard of anything like what he had just said. It sounded whimsical. She watched as he caressed her Zavian sweetly, smiling to herself at his affectionate nature.

"The path I walk, that all of us who bear this burden walk, is lonely with few campfires to the side of the road. To find another whose heart had forsaken women... Weakness took me, and the sun seemed to rise on that blackened road. If only for a few days. Now it is black again, and no campfires to greet me. No others. Thou art lucky to be of the fairer sex, the nature god did not slander thee with this. He laughs at my burden and dances men and women before my eyes, cursing me to a cold hearth and an empty bed."

She understood the first part of what she had said. It had happened to her too. Sigrun, for a moment, had gone on a bout of frenzy with men. The slightest display of interest made her interested, and because of that she had been quite careless in her actions for the past few seasons. She had kissed two men after having only met them, and had fallen a little bit in love with one man after one leisurely walk down the Nettle District. It was hard not too when one was so often alone.

But she didn't understand what he meant of her being the 'fairer sex'. Sigrun smiled gently, hoping that he did not find her dumb or too simple-minded. She admired his vocabulary, and could only wish she had the same methods of speaking. She understood him on a more emotional level, and that, she believed, was quite good in and of itself.

"It's going to be a long trip," she chirped, "we might as well share everything we know."