Conquer Me.

His musky scent filled her nostrils as his broad arms embraced her. She had almost crashed into him as she heard his thunderous but consoling voice. His arms around her as two protective wings that covered her from all harm.

The inside of the cabin was dark and it covered them whole, he had easily picked her up by her waist, hauling her over the doorstep. It was cool inside and the burning sun could not reach the sisters who stepped over Gregory’s doorstep. They did not exist though. Nothing existed but their embrace. Josselyn buried her face in the small of his neck and she felt his embrace tightening.
Rowen was not there. His betrayal did not look her in the eye every time she looked upon him. Meredith was not there, pulling her between distant communication and true connection. She was there. Gregory was there and for the first time in many moons she felt save. She could hear his heart beat underneath his layers of fabric and skin. It was bouncing at her with the soothing of a lullaby.

“I made soup, you are getting too skinny little bird, I can feel your darn ribs,” Gregory pulled her from him with the caution of handling a delicate flower. His hands cupped her head at the base of her neck. His thumbs faintly graced her cheeks as he looked at her with that fatherly love she had not seen in her own father.

Before she could tell him she was not at all starved. Before she could tell him she was taking care of herself and that it was so great to see him again. Before any of those thoughts could escape her mind, Rowen roared.

“Don’t touch her!” He screamed.

Without a warning his fingers were surrounding Gregory’s broad neck, the fever taken over his mind. All Josselyn could see was the boy’s face that had bulged for air when Rowen had suffocated him with those same hands. All she could see was the fear in his eyes, the way his face turned purple and his eyes bloodshot. All she could see were her memories whilst Rowen was trying to choke the one man she trusted.

Meredith and Evelyn got Rowen on his knees but he was far from overpowered. It took them grave effort to get him on the cot she had once slept on before. She had not been chained, but watching Rowen rave and scream her name. She knew he would have to be secured.

“Chain him down, and then explain yourselves,” Gregory’s dark voice boomed. She saw him grabbing his throat. He was a broad and strong man, but he must have seen more than fifty name days. Rowen was a young man and even with foam on his mouth and rabid eyes from his fever, his grasp must have been strong. Red fingerprints stood on the medic’s throat, though he did not seem to surprise.

“Let him go, Josselyn.” The voice brought her senses back. She did not only realize she was about to kill a man. She did not only feel how his jugular artery was pulsing against the blade. She felt her own pain too. The knife she was holding seemed to be still stuck in her own skin. Meredith’s voice made her crumble and the knife fell down to the floor. Its steel sound bounced off the walls, clattering through her soul. Two steps brought Meredith next to her and the blond sister grabbed the knife from the ground.

"He will not hurt you,” She said softly and guided Josselyn to the cot. A blanket was laid upon it and it tickled her bare legs as she sat down. Meredith crouched before her. Her icy eyes captured hers and demanded the little attention Josselyn could muster.

“He will not hurt you, we came here to get you better,” She said. Her hand dropped on her knee and Josselyn could not help it but to flinch away. Every touch, either gentle or not, they still made her cringe. Every contact was hostile, regardless the intention. Her eyes averted from Meredith’s. She was ashamed. Ashamed for being this broken. Ashamed for being so scared and so powerless. Meredith grabbed her chin. She pushed her face up, bringing her eyes back to her own blue ones. She did not speak. She just looked and a little smile appeared on her face.

Josselyn had never asked what she had smiled about. She had wanted to forget her broken body. However her scars and her nightmares made sure she never forgot; Gregory’s place had become a welcome memory. One filled with kindness and a feeling of belonging.

Rowen’s screams of her name subsided and stopped clashing against her as waves of confusion. He slipped in a restless and fitful sleep, but a sleep nonetheless. Josselyn sighed. The small cabin was crowded with the group of sisters. Evelyn and Meredith still panted from getting Rowen in his chains; Emma curiously looked around the eccentric room. Josselyn walked over to the cot, where Rowen laid twisting in his chains and running from his dreams. Without hesitation she drew a curtain before him, covering him from sight. He would make it. His demons would not dance with him much longer, for Gregory would know how to frighten them off.

As she turned around she looked him straight in the eye. His irises filled with interest and concern. Emma was walking around the room, touching a few of the pans that hung from the ceiling. The herbs that dried on his walls filled the cabin with its strong musky scent and the darkness only lit by candle attributed to the mystery filled air.

“Please sisters, would you grant us some privacy?” Josselyn said. Emma, who’s fingertips were touching another bronze pan by standing on her toes, let herself plump down to the floor again and her eyes reached her leader.

“Come on girl,” Evelyn said as she motioned to Emma, they left the room. Gregory had set a kettle filled with soup at his doorstep. The women would eat and rest. They would know the worst was over. For Josselyn, this was just the beginning. Meredith remained. This was her home too. Josselyn did not want to send her away, and if she had wished to, she would never have succeeded.

“Sit down and show me those wounds,” Gregory said, motioning to an empty chair. Josselyn wanted to decline but Meredith was already opening her mouth to object to Josselyn's decline.

“I’m fine,” Josselyn said as she sat down on the chair. Gregory pulled a chair next to it and Meredith perched herself on the table. “We encountered Elrik's men, twice. The last time we were not as prepared.” She said to Gregory, glancing at Josselyn with a tinge of concern.

“Oh little raven, what are you doing,” Gregory mumbled as he grabbed a wet towel.

“It’s not me you need to be tending,” Josselyn said. She was reluctant to show him her wounds. She was not eager to undress and have that same feeling again. That feeling she had years ago. Entering this room dressed was like coming home. It was like the warm memories she treasured. The ones where Gregory would tell old stories and she and Meredith would sip a bit of wine before drifting off to sleep. Being in this room without her clothes it would be like the first time Gregory tended to her. She had fought him, in her feverish state. She had not let him touch her before Meredith subdued her with her own strength. The terror and despair she had felt then, was a feeling she did not want to bear again.

“And why would I tend one of Elrik’s men?” Gregory said. He was still holding his cloth, waiting for her to undo the top of her bust so he could reach the wound on her upper arm. She did not provide. She glanced over her shoulder; behind that curtain Rowen was fighting incubuses that had haunted her too. His screams of her name still rung in her head. The despair in it. The way he was trying to save her yet again. Confusion engulfed her completely now. She was drowning and did not know what way was up. Carried with the wave she did not know how to get to air anymore, all around her was confusion and the surface was undetectable.

“Because when he’s dead, Elrik will stop at nothing before he destroys my sisters,” Josselyn finally spoke. She jabbed her arm forward and bared her shoulder.

“I tended cuts like these before,” Gregory said, he rapidly glanced at Meredith before looking at his work again. “And now you want me to tend the person who provoked those?”

“I wanted to kill him immediately, she stopped me.” Meredith said. In the dark cabin her blond hair turned reddish in the glow of candles. Gregory turned to her and the necklace of twigs and little bones turned with his movement.

“If you had, you’d sentenced your sisterhood to death,” Gregory said with a grave voice. “And you,” Josselyn was his sole attention again. “You should never have attacked them. Not with Elrik’s eldest among them!”

“If I knew it was him. If I had known before the attack. I would have killed him in the midst of his men. As they were sleeping around him. Only he would know who wielded the blade of this death. I would never have pained my sisters for him. For my mistake we lost six sisters. For my mistake we travelled this treacherous road. I ask you; please do not condemn the rest of my women. They do not deserve it.”

Gregory’s cloth touched her skin again, cleaning dried blood from her wounds. Like he had before.

“Who did this to you my dear,” His cloth touched the cuts on her back as she lied stomach down on the cot. She was shivering. The pain was not causing it. The fear of his touches were.

“Rowen, son of Elrik,” She whispered and closed her eyes wide shut.