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Chapter Five "This is absolutely beyond the realms of humiliating." "Oh, quit fussing," Filia said as she carefully lowered Valgaav into the chair before tapering off the levitation spell. "It's either this, or we could just carry you on a plank." "Besides, Lord Valgaav, it's night. There's not very many people out now, and we'll stick to the shadows," Jillas added. "I can walk," he said gruffly. "A few steps," Filia countered, glancing up at the inn window, mentally reviewing everything to see if she'd forgotten to do anything before they left the rooms they'd resided in for the past week. "Across the room!" "Using the shortest point to point measurement, perhaps." He huffed in annoyance. "But you'll be able to get around by yourself once we get to the cottage," Jillas said, patting the wheels he'd attached to the chair. "I'm thrilled." His tone was anything but. "Oh, quit being a baby," Filia told him, which earned her a rather evil glare, to which she responded with a sweet smile. "The cottage is a good thirty minute walk from here. If you tried to get there on your own, you'll probably be wishing for this in five." She turned to Jillas. "You two get started. I'm going to go back up and make sure we have everything, then settle our bill with the innkeeper." "Okay, oneesan." "Jillas?" "Yes, oneesan?" "STOP CALLING ME ONEESAN!" "Sure thing, oneesan." He grinned at her. Filia whimpered. "Give it up," Valgaav replied, smirking at her. "If I have to put up with this chair with wheels, you can handle being called his big sis. I can think of other things to call you, if you'd like." "No, that's quite all right," she said hurriedly, and beat a hasty retreat. "Levitation!" Hovering up, she gripped the windowframe and pulled herself in, dropping to her feet. After checking both her room and Jillas' to ensure nothing was left behind, she paid off whatever was left of their accumulated debt, and stepped out into the quiet, dark street. It was still early enough that the warmth from the day hadn't yet leeched out of the air, but still, Filia looked forward to starting a warm fire in her new home. Jillas had gone with her when she had ventured out to try to sell her jewelry, partially to be her guide as he had already explored the neighborhood by then, and partially to protect her, as she had still been quite stiff and sore from being thrown against the wall. Giving her head a small shake, she sighed. In some ways, she missed the kinder, gentler way Valgaav had treated her for the first few days afterwards, but she was glad that he was getting over his guilt. It had been an accident, and she knew it. There was no permanent damage, so no harm was really done, in her eyes. At least the sting was gone from many of his words. Valgaav was once again quite rude and brusque, but for the most part as far as she could tell, he wasn't being deliberately vindictive anymore. He still had his moments when he was extraordinarily snippy, but Filia just reminded herself to be patient, that he had a thousand years of pain to contend with. He had every right to his moments of harshness. She hoped the situation would continue to improve once they weren't in each other's faces around the clock. The cottage really only boasted one bedroom, but they could still make do. There was a rather spacious attic that Jillas had lay claim to for his own quarters, and Filia decided to let Valgaav have the bedroom. Besides, she longed to be able to sleep near the external warmth of a fire again, which made occupying the living room a logical choice. Once again, she owed Jillas, for it was him who had found the cozy, well-kept building, being sold by a widow who was moving away to another town to live with her son and daughter-in-law. Not only had he managed to help her get a rather tidy sum for her headdress, bracelets, and a few necklaces and rings, but he acquired the cottage at a good bargain. Not only did they have a house now, but it was, for the most part, still furnished, as the previous owner had no need to take anything beyond her own personal effects. They had spent the day buying the things they did need; bedding, dishes, food, a few lamps, oil, and other such supplies. Jillas also checked out the price of lumber, as they planned to convert the front parlor of the cottage into a shop, with a separate entrance. Filia wondered where they would get the money to afford building the necessary kiln, and later, a forge to craft weapons with as well, but Jillas told her not to worry about it. There was no shortage of work for someone with his ingenuity, and he said that would go toward laying the groundwork to opening the shop. The money remaining from her jewelry could be reserved for necessary things like food. Cutting across a street, she picked up her steps to catch up with Jillas and Valgaav. Although they had a head start, she didn't think they'd be moving as fast as she, since she had cautioned Jillas not to push the chair too fast, and to be mindful of potentially jarring bumps which could aggravate Valgaav's injuries. He had made tremendous progress, thanks to the healing spells, but she knew it had been a very close call. If it wasn't for casting not one but three resurrection spells altogether, Filia doubted he would have made it. It was a miracle in itself he had even survived as long as he did. Rounding a corner, she caught sight of the two men further ahead as they passed through the yellow glow pouring out of tavern windows. Gathering her skirt in her hands, she picked up her steps to a jog, slowing to a halt as she approached, both of them turning to watch her as her footsteps reached them. "It took you long enough," Valgaav snapped, looking her over. "What happened, you get lost?" "No one tried to bother you, did they, oneesan?" Jillas asked. "We shouldn't have left you to walk by yourself after dark." His ears drooped a bit as he studied her. Filia smiled at them. "No, I'm sorry if I worried you. It took a little longer than I thought it would with the innkeeper, and apparently you two made better time." She flashed them a grin. "Besides, anyone who did try to accost me would become very well acquainted with my mace." She patted her thigh where it was strapped, hidden under her skirt. They continued on toward the cottage, and Filia looked up at the sky, marveling at the stars which looked like gems scattered over deep blue velvet. It was a gorgeous sight for a dragon, and she daydreamed of when she'd be able to afford building up her hoard again. It had been painful to part with her pretty, shiny things, but it was necessary. So entranced was she with the sight that Filia failed to notice the pothole in the road, and landed in a rather ungraceful heap on the ground with a startled yelp. Jillas rushed to her side, helping her up, while Valgaav merely applauded in a slow, sarcastic manner. "Have a nice trip?" he asked, his tone deceptively pleasant. Filia just smirked at him in reply as she got to her feet, brushing off the dust. "You're not hurt, are you, oneesan?" Jillas asked worriedly. "I'm okay. Just bruised my pride, I think," she replied wryly, then looked around. "Are we almost there?" "It's just around that corner and down a ways." When they reached the cottage, Filia levitated Valgaav's chair up the few steps to the doorway while Jillas opened it, stepping aside as she pushed the chair in over the threshold. It felt incredibly dark, until Valgaav raised his hand, forming a hovering ball of light. Jillas tended to starting a fire while Filia lit the oil lamps, and soon, her new home took on a welcoming glow. Valgaav allowed the ball of light to dissipate, lowering his hand as he looked around, reaching for the wheels to push himself further into the room. "So this is what you got with your trinkets," he remarked. From his tone, Filia decided that his comment was as good as a word of approval. "Thank you," she replied, pulling her cloak off and draping it over a chair. She carefully placed the large blue gem which had clasped it shut in a cabinet, for it was more than a mere decoration; it was her way of accessing her dragon body. "Jillas deserves the credit, though. It was he who found the place and sealed the sale." The fox-man positively glowed in pleasure at the praise. "How are you two feeling?" she asked. "I'm a bit hungry," Valgaav admitted. Filia hopped a little in excitement and hurried into the kitchen, carrying a lamp with her. "My first time cooking in my new home!" "You are far too easily amused by these things," Valgaav said, pushing himself after her. But he smirked when he said it. Filia grinned. "Jillas, could you start a fire in here too, please?" "With pleasure, oneesan." "Jillas, my name isn't oneesan!" "Whatever you say, oneesan." He shot her a grin, crouching down by the fireplace in the kitchen to start arranging the logs. With a laugh that was somewhere between exasperation and amusement, she started looking over the food she had purchased earlier that day in preparation for the move. "I guess I am excited," she told Valgaav as she opened the larder door. "I've never had a place of my very own before. What would you like to eat?" He considered that for a moment. "Food?" he asked, a slightly bored tone to his voice. Filia looked away from the jars on the shelves, peering at him. "No, really?" she asked after a moment, shooting him a look of mock astonishment. "I thought maybe some wood between two slices of sheet rock with a bit of red mud on the side would be sufficient." For a moment, it almost looked like he was going to crack a smile. "I certainly hope you're better at cooking than you are at walking." "Oh, hush." Looking over what she had on hand, and taking the time into consideration, she pulled out a large pot. "I think some stew will do us for tonight. Jillas, where's the pump again?" "Out back, oneesan. Want me to fetch the water?" "I can manage that. Could you start preparing some of the vegetables?" she asked, picking up the pot and a bucket. "Okay! Lord Valgaav, you can help me! Here, you do the onions." Filia ducked her head, biting her lip to hold back a laugh, envisioning Valgaav's reaction if he took up Jillas' offer as she stepped out the back door of the kitchen. Valgaav's deadpan tone followed her, evoking a grin. "I don't think so, Jillas. Give me those potatoes. You can do the onions." The next few weeks flew by as the three of them settled into a comfortable routine. Jillas had taught Filia and Valgaav how to measure things and cut the wooden planks so they could set up the groundwork for him to build the shop in the evenings. When they weren't doing that, Filia was cooking or cleaning, usually with Valgaav tagging along and offering ‘helpful' advice. As exasperating as it could get, she welcomed the company, especially as he seemed to come to accept her. His physical condition was improving steadily, and he was able to remain mobile and on his feet each day for a little longer than he had the day before. Filia still kept a sharp eye on Valgaav, and was quick to get after him when she felt he was exerting himself too much. It always resulted in arguments, with the degree of acridity varying on his mood at any given moment. But there were times when he had her genuinely frightened. Every now and then, it seemed she would catch him staring off into space, as if closeted away in his own little world. Filia learned not to approach him then, because the one time she tried, tapping his shoulder to get his attention, his hand was gripping her wrist with a swift, crushing brutality that was so sudden, she had no chance to react. Although he tried to brush it off, admonishing her for sneaking up on him, she noticed the nonplused expression in his eyes, and later, the unsettled guilt when he saw the dark purple bruise he had left. It bothered her even more that she was able to observe him unawares a few times as he would seem to regain an awareness to his surroundings. Valgaav's expression was always distressed. Every time she tried to bring it up, though, he would change the topic and tell her she was imagining things, or that he was simply contemplating his life. The nightmares weren't going away either. Filia had taken to levitating the foot of his bed a few inches off the floor, letting it drop back down with a jolt as a means of waking him, standing well outside of reach beyond the door. Other than that, during the moments when normalcy reigned, she found herself actually enjoying his company. Either he was becoming less curt, or she was becoming more accustomed to his coarseness. There were even a few times when he paid her compliments; subtle at first, then a few outright ones would show up now and again. Pulling the dried laundry off the line, Filia looked at the house, wondering where Valgaav was at, and half-considering going off to search for him. He had recently begun taking walks, assisted by a cane, to build his strength back up, but he had never been gone quite this long before. Her mind began to drift over scenarios, each one worse than the one before. What if he had fallen and reinjured himself somehow? What if another Mazoku had come after him? What if it had been Xellos? She knew he no longer had the strengths or abilities of a Mazoku, or at least, that was what he claimed. Although as an Ancient Dragon, he was still more powerful than her, he was still no match for a high-level Mazoku anymore. By the time she had finished removing the clothes from the line, Filia had worked herself up in to a good state of panic, her mental images having him dead in a ditch somewhere. That did it. She was going to look for him, whether he liked it or not. Picking up the basket, she ran back into the house, and collided with Valgaav as he stepped out of the living room. He yelped in surprise, grabbing the doorframe to keep from falling backwards, and the basket of clean clothes slipped out of her grip. "Watch where you're going!" he exclaimed. "You could kill somebody like that." She just stared at him, savoring the relief that flooded every cell, and hugged him tightly for a moment. "You're alive!" He didn't hug her back, just standing there motionless. "Uh, yeah?" he replied, in a tone that implied she was maybe just a bit daft. Pulling away, she swatted him soundly on his arm. "Ow!" Valgaav glared at her. "What was that for?" "For scaring me, you big lug!" she shouted. "Where the hell have you been?" "Can't I go anywhere without you breathing down my neck?" he retorted. "Not when you're gone for this long!" "Oh, for the love'a..." He trailed off, raking a hand through his hair. "It was only three hours, you crazy dragon!" "Two more than what you're normally gone for! I thought you were maybe laying dead in a ditch somewhere!" "Gee, I'm glad to see you hold me in such high regard," Valgaav said sarcastically. "Maybe I can't walk without a limp, but I can still spellcast with the best of them, and oh, let's not forget, I can revert to my full dragon form now. I'm not exactly a helpless invalid who needs you waiting on me hand and foot." "Well, fine! If that's how you want to be, see if I ever worry about you again!" She bit her tongue just a moment too late after the words tumbled out, fueled by frayed nerved. "Don't do me any favors," he shot back, glaring at her as he stormed off to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. With a sigh, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. "That was brilliant, Filia," she muttered sotto voce. Shaking her head slightly, she crouched and picked up the few garments that had spilled out of the basket when she dropped it, and walked into the living room to sort the clothes. As she was folding them, a glimmer on the end table next to the sofa caught her eye, and as she looked closer, Filia's eyes widened in surprise. It was a small barrette, not quite as long as her index finger, and about as wide. The metal was gold, in a muted shade, and delicately etched with designs of ivy. Tiny blue sapphires were inlaid along the etchings. It wasn't anything very fancy, but it was the first bit of jewelry which had come into her possession in the two months since she had sold off her own. It hadn't been there before; of this, she was certain. As Filia wondered where it came from, the pieces began to fall into place. Valgaav's longer than usual absence, combined with his leaving the living room when she ran into him; it all added up. Clutching the barrette in her hand, she bit her lip in shame for having snapped at him, and quietly walked to the closed door. Filia hesitated a moment, then knocked softly. "Valgaav?" There was no answer for a few long moments. "What do you want?" he asked from the other side of the wood, his tone sharp. "May I come in?" Silence greeted her, and as the moments passed, she interpreted that as her answer. Filia started to move away, when her ears picked up the sound of him approaching the door. The knob turn and it swung open. He was already turning away from her, walking back to the bed. Meekly, she stepped inside, wondering what to say. "I really like the barrette," she said softly. He glanced at her hand, seeing her holding it, then looked away to the window. "It's from Jillas," he replied, not meeting her eyes. There was just enough touch of embarrassment to his posture and tone for Filia to suspect it wasn't just from Jillas. "It's quite lovely," she continued. "This is why you were gone so long, isn't it?" Valgaav only shrugged in response. Filia wasn't sure what to do at first, then chose to step over to the dresser, looking into the small mirror on the wall as she affixed the barrette in place, securing back some locks of hair that tended to lean toward being unruly. Facing Valgaav, she turned her head a bit for him to see, giving him a small, curious smile. He studied her, then gave a slight nod. "It suits you," he replied, his tone gruff. He hesitated, getting to his feet again, and walked to the window. "You just looked...I don't know. You needed something in your hair, I guess. Maybe we're just too used to seeing you with that huge thing you used to wear." Filia smiled softly. His tone was short, his words harsh, but she was learning how to read between his lines. "It's very beautiful," she said quietly. "I missed having pretty things." She walked over to him, stopping at his side, gazing out the window. "I'm sorry for snapping at you. I was just...worried. I just was afraid something had happened to you." "Why? Still determined to save the last Ancient to make up for your own people's crimes?" he asked, a trace of a sneer in his voice. "Maybe that was the case once," she admitted, looking down for a moment. Then her eyes went up to his face. "But not anymore." He didn't look at her. "And why's that?" "Because I'd miss you." He was still for a few heartbeats, then glanced down at her, studying her face. Valgaav turned his attention back out the window. "I'm not going anywhere." She smiled warmly. "Thank you again for the barrette. I'm going to go finish laundry now." Filia left the room, shutting the door behind her gently, and closed her eyes as a small grin quirked the corners of her mouth. Feeling warm and fuzzy inside, and rather pleased, she returned to her daily chores. |
to be continued...
Chapter Six