Underestimate Me

She looked at her leader. The tent was illuminated by a few candles which cast shadows on the scarred face of Josselyn. Each engravement cast its own little shadow on her face, making her look like an oil painting. Josselyns' movements were slightly frantic and this ‘Rowen’ had indeed been more than just Elrik's eldest son. Meredith followed the quick movements Josselyn's slender fingers made, while they traced the chord that bound up her bodice. They traveled down to the beginning and started loosening them.

Josselyn had worn her customary attire. A boiled leather bodice and breeches. Her arms were covered by the dark green under tunic. The weather had been smothering, but Josselyn always covered herself up, only displaying the scars that graced her face. It had always painted her as being royal and worthy of this leadership. Meredith knew different. She knew Josselyn covered up the marks on her body, because she did not want it to be a constant remembrance. The scars on her face were enough to remind her sisters of their own pain and the pain Josselyn herself had endured. Those were the scars Josselyn only faced when she bathed or swam. The scars on her body stirred up so much, she kept them hidden. This way she was only reminded at night, when she took off her clothes, of what had been done to her. When she did, Meredith would be there.

The rhythm of her fingers was mesmerizing as the bodice loosened more and more, around Josselyns waist. Meredith had started to undo her long blond braid, letting her hair drop across her shoulders. The canvas of the tent waved softly on the current of the wind. The storm had passed and only some small puffs of air remained. The storm that had roared outside inspired a hurricane beneath this tent as well, revealing Rowen to be Josselyn's vengeance.

Meredith slipped out of her clothes as well and crawled in the spacious bed they had created. Her bare body disappeared beneath the sheets and she kept her eye on Josselyn who was removing her bodice now. Milk cream colored skin appeared where the bodice slid down, some little freckles on her shoulder blades, but most of all her back was covered in scars. Great vertical scars showed from her shoulders down to the little dimples just above her backside. The skin had been cracked open and scar tissue had formed across the gashes with great difficulty.

“If I do not tend to those wounds on your back and in your face, you will not survive this forest, despite what Maa tells you.” Her voice was strict but seeing drops of blood still seeping from the gashes on Josselyn’s face, she knew she had to be. A life for a life.

“You will not do any of the sorts,” Josselyn’s strong voice boomed back at her. This was a broken woman with such life lust, the contradiction was confusing. “These scars are my bearings. They need to be my reminders.” Josselyn added as her hand flew over her skin, leaving her fingertips to be bloodied.

“Trust me, these scars will not fade, even if I take care that they do not end your life.” Meredith had spoken and with those words had earned Josselyn’s trust to touch her.

The shadows played catch on her back as she moved to step out of her breeches. Bare in all her female form she stood before the bed. She had narrow shoulders and a wasp like waist, her skin the color of fresh milk. Dark strands of hair fell loosely across her shoulders and the look on her face was one of torture.

“Come lay with me,” Meredith said as she threw back the sheets. More hesitant than usually Josselyn crawled next to her, lying down on her side. Her body was warm, heated by the summer’s day and the layers of clothing. Softly Meredith’s hands traced the healed scars on her leader’s back. Running her fingers along the brutal lines. A shiver ran through Josselyn’s body and resonated through her caressing fingers.

“Please tell me,” Meredith whispered as she tangled her fingers in Josselyn’s hair. With Josselyn she could be soft. She could be vulnerable like her leader could be vulnerable with her. When the canvas of the tent was closed Meredith’s ice melted by the heat of Josselyn’s body. She could feel the layers of restrictment and stature, seeping down her body and damp leaving her skin to join the air.

It was silent for a little while. Meredith felt how Josselyn was working up to tell her. She felt how she was searching for words, trying to get them to pass her lips.

“He will never hurt you again,” The whisper was pushed against Josselyn’s ear and Meredith’s scent was calming her down. She kept tangling and caressing the dark locks, now draped down her back. Although Josselyn was not facing Meredith, she knew her leader had closed her eyes and gradually the tension in her body was released. “He will not touch you. Never again.” It was a promise she made to Josselyn, but a promise she made to herself as well. That repulsive creature was not laying another hand on her mystical leader. Josselyn would not fear Rowen. Not while she was around.

“He was not the one to wield the knife, after I was plucked from his bed.” Josselyn started with a hushed and low voice. “He was the one who dragged me into predicament and left me when hardship hit.”

“Why save him?” the question had been on her lips since she had heard her scream the order. Meredith had been all to ready to behead the man and carry on with another. She had been all to ready until that voice had stopped her mid-strike. The words had been like shackles around her hands and she had not been able to complete the movement. Knowing this man had any part in the scars she was now stroking made her want to slit his throat all the more dearly.

“I told you,” Josselyn whispered. In the confinement of the tent they barely spoke, but whispering seemed more adequate when words did leave their mouths. “Killing him will set off a head-on war. One we cannot hope to win.”

Meredith had always admired her leader to have such heart for her sisters. They were a community, not a hierarchy. Tonight though, after placing a little kiss on the skin behind Josselyn’s ear, she condemned this path they were on. She condemned Maa for giving Josselyn such a hard task to fulfill with such a burden to carry.

“What will we do with him now.” she asked. If not kill him, could she at least torture some guilt out of him? She snuggled against Josselyn who lay still as a statue. She was somewhere else. So distant while so close. Meredith felt their skin touching as she lay behind her leader and she felt how their bodies breathed together.

“I’m not sure yet.” Josselyn breathed. “I want to hurt him badly. I want him to scream the way I screamed. Scream out my name with terror and pain.” Her sister was silent for a moment. “I do need his information. We’ll see what will become of him in our care. Let us sleep now.”

No more words were spoken. Her sister, her leader and her friend was unreachable. She had put on the shackles she had once broken free off. Meredith felt a great hatred rising inside of her. Hatred of Rowen son of Elrik, with his filthy claws and his insatiable manhood. She imagined cutting it off, having him bleed out at the groin. She hoped her dreams would let her live that fantasy, as her tortured leader would not.