Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Redemption Recalled	By : MoonlightVision Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 9161 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of JK's world and characters, I do not make any money from this. I merely borrow for fun. The only thing I own is my feisty Lexi and the story arch.

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
- 21
Chapter 18: ¨Pages and Blood
The next several days passed much the same as the previous ones, except for several small, but in Scabior's mind, monumental changes. Lexington was still choosing to sleep in her chair, but each night when he came home he found her curled under the blanket. She had also started accepting the extra little things he left out for her. He no longer found mugs of hot cocoa or the sweet treats he left her outside the tent.
One thing that remained the same, however, was her not speaking to him. He couldn't tell if that was on purpose or not though. They'd been working extra long days recently, so she was still asleep when he left in the mornings and was asleep before he got back at night, so the opportunity for conversation never arose.
Three days after Lexington had asked for Thom they finished their route early and she was still up when he got back. It was just getting dark outside, but since it was mid-November, that didn't mean it was late. The lamp in the tent was burning brightly when he entered and he found her curled up in her chair, which she'd moved back to where it had been beside the desk a few days ago. She was sitting with her feet hanging over the arm of the chair, immersed in one of the books off his shelf.
He warily approached her, since she hadn't seemed to notice him yet, and peered at the title. It was his old transfiguration text book, one he knew for a fact she'd already read weeks ago.
He cleared his throat, and she glanced at him briefly, then went back to the book. “Didn't you already read that one?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said without looking up again.
Scabior's chest tightened inexplicably. So she was going to talk to him. Maybe not of her own accord, but she seemed willing to answer his questions. That was a good start.
“Then why are you readin' it again?” he said, reaching past her to put the maps he'd had in his pocket on the desk. He didn't miss the way she leaned away from him, but at least she wasn't scrambling away from him this time.
Lexington sighed, “I finished reading everything else, so I figured I'd start again.”
Scabior looked at her in awe, “You've read every single one of my books? Already?”
“Yes”
“You've only been here for like three weeks!”
“I know, but there isn't a lot for me to do while you're gone all day.”
He guessed that made sense. It wasn't an overly large collection, she had been going through them fairly quickly and she was right, there wasn't much else for her to do all day. An idea popped into Scabior's head and he smiled. He couldn't do much in the way of giving her other things to do during the day, but he could get her a few more books. Why hadn't he thought of that before? It was the perfect way to gain some points in her good graces again. She loved books.
“If you could have any book to read, what would you pick?” he asked lightly, going to the table and sitting down, propping his feet up on another chair.
Lexington looked at him for the first time since he'd asked that first question, her eyebrows arched in question, “Why?”
He shrugged, “Just curious.”
She regarded him for a minute before she answered, “The Origin of Species, by Charles Darwin.”
This time Scabior's brows shot up, “The what, by who?”
Lexington rested the book she was holding on her lap, “The Origin of Species. It's a muggle book about evolution, written by Charles Darwin, a muggle.”
Scabior cocked his head, “Why would you want that one?”
She shrugged, “It's fascinating and I used to have a copy when I was younger.”
“You read that when you were little?”
“Not little little, I was probably about thirteen. My parents didn't know I had it, I kept it hidden inside the box spring of my bed. If they haven't done anything with my room then it may still be there, they still might not know about it.”
Scabior smiled. This conversation was going just the way he wanted it to. She was talking to him and her answers were getting longer!
Lexington watched Scabior smile and swallowed. He looked good when he smiled, she'd forgotten. She quickly returned her gaze to her book. She hadn't meant to talk to him that much, she'd planned on using one or two word answers to any questions he asked, but he'd caught her off guard with his choice of topic. Damn him.
She heard him shift in his chair, “So, that's the book you'd pick over all others?”
“Yes.”
“Any other ones?”
She shrugged, staying focused on the page in front of her, “Not sure.”
Scabior frowned. She was pointedly not looking at him. He could tell because her mouth was set in a straight line and she wasn't actually reading the words on the page, just staring fixedly at the paper.
“Well, I gotta get some work done. Mind if I come grab some stuff from the desk?” he asked, hoping to draw her into conversation again.
She simply shook her head.
He stood and walked nearer, catching the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed. He stepped behind the chair and grabbed the maps and papers he needed. Turning he stared down at the top of her head, fighting the urge to place a kiss there like he did every night. She was awake this time though and he knew she wouldn't react well if he did.
Lexington was intensely aware of him standing behind her. She bit her lip, knowing he couldn't see it, and waited for him to move. Finally he stepped away from her, but not before she felt the barest touch of his fingers as they grazed her hair.
He went to the table and sat there, setting everything out before him. She watched him from the corner of her eye, ready to look away if he glanced her way. But he didn't. Realizing her entire body was tense she let out a silent gust of air and relaxed. Going back to her book she tried to focus on the words.
They sat like that for a long time, both absorbed in what they were doing. Until a whimper escaped Lexington's lips and Scabior looked up. She was asleep. Her head had dropped to rest on the back of the chair and her arms where resting on her knees, her feet tucked up against the arm of the chair. The book she'd been reading lay forgotten in her lap.
Scabior stood and stretched, it was getting late, he should probably go to bed too. Walking softly towards her, he reached down carefully and extricated the book, laying it on the desk behind her. He then grabbed the blanket from the bed and gently wrapped it around her. He smiled, he'd missed doing that. Missed the excuse to touch her.
He heard a shuffling from the tent door and looked behind him to see Gawaine slip under the fabric and trot over to them. He eyed Scabior warily before he jumped up onto the arm of the chair and slipped carefully into her lap. He turned in a circle and lay down, tucking his tail around his nose. He didn't close his eyes, however, he sat there staring at Scabior.
Scabior shook his head and moved past them, heading to the bathroom.
-----**-----
Scabior was gone when Lexington woke the next morning. She didn't remember falling asleep, but once again Scabior had tucked the blanket around her. She felt Gawaine stir and brought her arm out from under the covers to scratch him.
“Well, little guy, breakfast then back to practising?”
Gawaine gave a short meow and jumped from her lap, heading towards the table. After eating Lexington sat down and pulled open the drawer with the wandless magic book in it. She had gotten pretty good at taking out and replacing the false bottom, it took her only seconds these days. Pulling out the book she glanced through the chapter she was working on and got to work.
An hour later she was beaming. Her parchment was hovering about a foot over her head! “Gawaine! Gawaine, look!” she exclaimed.
Gawaine trotted over from his customary place at the door and looked up at the paper, flicking his tail as he watched it.
Slowly, Lexington tried to make the parchment move. She wanted to see if she could get it to hover anywhere she wanted. Visualizing her magic she used it to push the paper inch by inch to the left. Painstakingly slowly, it moved. At one point she lost focus a bit and the paper dropped a few inches, but the parchment kept moving to her left until it was about a foot away. Then it suddenly stuttered to a stop and fell from the air.
Lexington watched it float to the floor, leaning back as she did. She let out a huge sigh, “Now we're getting somewhere.”
Gawaine jumped up onto the desk, the parchment in his mouth. He placed it back in the centre of the desk and turned to her, purring. He stretched out a paw and patted the paper.
“I know, I know, I need to keep practising, but you have to admit that was pretty good!”
Gawaine bobbed his head and patted the paper again.
Lexington chuckled, “Slave driver.”
Gawaine's ears flattened and his tail flicked.
She laughed out loud at that. The sound startled her and she realized she hadn't laughed in a long time. It'd been over a week now since Lexington had found the scarf and she knew she hadn't laughed since before that.
She glanced at the table, the mug from her cocoa a poignant reminder of why she hadn't laughed. A reminder, also, that she was supposed to be trying to figure out if she could forgive him or not. Not wanting to think about it she sat forward and immediately reached for her magic, determined to make her parchment levitate again.
She kept practising all day, until Gawaine sounded the alarm. Hastily throwing everything back into the drawer she grabbed the book she'd been reading last night and opened to a random page. She wasn't really reading this book again, bits and pieces of it sure, but she was mostly using it as a cover, so he didn't discover what book she was actually reading these days. She had been telling him the truth though, she had read every book on his shelf. She usually read something before curling up to sleep every night and had gone through his collection faster than she would have liked.
Glancing at the canvas she realized it was still light out. They were back early today.
Her eyes widened when Scabior came in. He was covered in mud from head to toe. He kicked his boots off and without so much as looking at her, marched past the chair and into the bathroom, a damp, musty smell making her wrinkle her nose. The door closed with a bang making her jump.
Twenty minutes later she was lost in thought, thinking about the progress she'd made today, when she heard the door open again. Refocusing on the book in her lap she pretended to be reading.
Scabior marched past her again, without a word, and went to the wardrobe. The smell of sandalwood wafted after him and she had to bite back a groan. She'd forgotten how good he smelled. Sneaking a peek at him over the top of the book she froze. He was wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist and beads of water were running down his body. The effect was breathtaking and she sat there, mesmerized by his glistening skin. Drops of water slid down his chest and across his abs, some of them catching in the line of hair that disappeared underneath the towel. Her pulse quickened as she watched his arm muscles bunch when he pulled open a drawer. He grabbed some clothes and turned, his eyes finally looking at her.
Lexington flushed and immediately cast her eyes down to her book. Scabior snorted and stalked back into the bathroom, closing the door more gently this time. The fresh smell of sandalwood lingered in the room though and she inhaled deeply. Why did he have to smell so good? And why did he have to be the perfect specimen of masculinity? It was unfair. How could she stay mad at someone who was so appealing to her senses?
She thought back to before the incident, before he'd found the scarf, before he'd tied her up. Those few days when she had started returning his affections had been wonderful. She'd never felt like that when anyone else had kissed her, and that one morning, when he'd given her an orgasm... Lexington had to catch her breath, heat rising to her face. She could only imagine what would have happened between them if he hadn't done what he had.
Warring emotions fought inside her brain. She was still mad at him, still didn't trust him anymore, but on the other hand, she obviously was still attracted to him. She silently cursed herself. She shouldn't find him attractive, he stood for so many things she was against and he'd lied to her and hurt her. But she couldn't stop the way her body responded. She couldn't stop it in the beginning, what made her think she'd be able to stop it now?
Could she forgive him? Should she? She sighed, in order to know for sure she had to take Thom's advice and figure out why he blacked out. She wasn't ready to do that, not yet ready for that conversation. It seemed too intimate a thing to ask, and she wasn't ready for any level of intimacy with him again. Picturing the way the water had sparkled on his skin she groaned. Not yet anyway, but maybe, just maybe in the future.
Pushing those thoughts away she calmly looked up when Scabior exited the bathroom, “What happened?”
Scabior eyes flashed brightly before he answered, “Ty blew up a swamp.”
“He blew up a swamp?” she asked incredulously, noting the sparkle in his eye again. Wondering about it for a moment she realized this was the first time she'd started a conversation with him since that day she'd broken her silence and asked for Thom.
“Yeah, he blew up a bloody swamp,” Scabior growled lightly, crossing to the table and helping himself to the leftover food on the plate he'd left her that morning.
“Just how does one blow up a swamp?” she enquired.
He sat at the table, facing her and popped a grape into his mouth. “I've no idea, but he managed it.”
“Okay, why did he do it?”
Scabior smiled popping another grape into his mouth, “We were chasin' after some people an' they cut across a swamp. One of them was buildin' a bridge of sorts in front of them as they went an' Ty decided the best way to stop them was to cast some sort of spell at the part of the bridge they'd just built.”
Lexington frowned, she didn't really want to hear about them trying to catch people, those people were probably on her side of the war, but this story sounded too good. “Did it work?”
Scabior snorted, reaching for some bread, “Oh, it worked alright. Blew up the bridge an' about a ton of swamp from under it. It was a mess, I swear the whole swamp went straight up into the air. I've never had swamp rain down on me before.”
Lexington laughed, envisioning them getting swamp water and muck poured all over them.
Scabior swallowed before he spoke softly, “Its good to hear you laugh again, Lex”
Lexington bit her lip and looked down. As she did she heard Scabior sigh.
“I need to get some sleep, luv, I have to be up really early. There's somethin' I gotta do before joinin' the men for the day.” He stood, stretched, and glanced at the plate on the table. “Is that enough food for you for tonight? If not I can get you some more before turning in.”
She quickly looked at the plate, he hadn't eaten that much, so there was still plenty, “Yeah, that's fine.”
“Okay,” he said walking to the bed. There he paused, staring at the blanket on top of the bed. Picking it up he walked to her. His eyes met hers as he extended the blanket.
She reached for it, but he held onto it for a moment, his eyes flicked down to her mouth for the briefest second and she stiffened.
He blinked and exhaled. “Night, Lex,” he said as he let go of the blanket.
“Night,” she said quietly, pulling it to her.
-----**-----
Scabior crouched next to a tall hedge, surveying the manor in front of him. There hadn't been any movement since he'd gotten there ten minutes ago and there were no lights on. The occupants must either be out or still asleep. The later seemed more likely since dawn was still at least an hour away. He stayed where he was for a few more minutes, wanting to be absolutely sure the coast was clear.
Making his way past the large fountain that was central to the garden, he slipped up a set of stairs to the first large terrace. He stayed close to the wall as he edged towards the first window. Peering inside he saw a vast dining room, a long table running almost the whole length of it. This was as good a place as any to enter.
He assumed the manor was protected by wards that prevented people from apparating inside and also from magical means of break in. However, over the years he'd learned that wizards, especially pompous pure bloods, didn't protect their houses from normal routes of entry. If you could get into the house without magic, and didn't use magic once inside, you could usually pass undetected.
Testing his theory he pulled out a small tool set and set to work on the window latch. Within minutes he heard a click and gently pulled the window open. He waited a few seconds before he slipped silently inside. Again he paused, listening intently. There was no indication that anyone was about or that his presence had been picked up.
He made his way through the dining room to a hall and looked about. He wished he had somehow managed to ask Lexington where her room was in her parents manor. He hadn't been aware of how large it was and without a clue as to which way to go he had to settle for wandering around until he found it, all the while hoping that he didn't get caught. But asking her would have raised her suspicions and possibly gotten her hopes up. He wasn't even sure what he was looking for would still be here.
He decided the best place to start looking for her room was upstairs at the rear of the house. Most well off families liked having their rooms overlooking their gardens. He should know, he thought bitterly, as he silently made his way along the hall, looking for a staircase.
Coming out into a large entrance hall Scabior spotted a grand staircase. He scoffed, it even appeared to be made of marble. He would have preferred to find a small back stairwell somewhere, but this would have to do.
Once on the second floor he found himself in a long, plushly carpeted hallway. Pictures of witches and wizards lined the walls, almost all of them with brown or black hair. Here and there he saw a portrait with Lexingon's nose or her chin, and a few with her hair colour. Only one, that he could see, had her eyes though. He stood before it for a moment, caught up in the blueness of them. The artist had captured the witch well. She had black hair, wound up formally on top of her head, a short, slightly squat nose and Lexington's squarish chin. The eyes were definitely the exact same, down to the gold ring around the pupil and he felt like he was staring into Lexington's eyes.
Scabior moved on and paused before the first door he came to. If these wizards were anything like his folks, the first set of rooms would be the largest and belong to the man of the house and his wife. He stood absolutely still and listened, closing his eyes and focusing. Very faintly he heard snoring coming from within the room.
He quickly moved on to the next door. Listening again he heard nothing. Risking it he gently turned the knob and peered inside. It was a large sitting room. A fireplace dominated the far wall and couches were placed elegantly around a large ornate rug, end tables near each one. He closed the door and moved on to the next one.
He found a library, a study, a music room and another sitting room as he made his way along the hall. He was beginning to lose hope that her parents had in fact kept her room, when he opened the next door onto a bedroom. In the dim light he could make out that it was decorated in varying shades of pink and grey. He almost laughed. He could just imagine Lexington constantly fuming over the colour of her room. She didn't seem like the type of girl who would enjoy living in pink surroundings.
He eased inside and shut the door behind him. He took a minute to look around. The large four poster bed took up most of the left hand wall, the canopy could just be made out to be a light pink, as was the bedding. Walking over to it, he ran his hand along the covers.
He stopped, examining his fingers. There was no dust. That didn't make sense to him. If she'd been gone for several years there should have been dust. Unless someone cleaned in here regularly. That told him two things. Either her parents where so concerned with cleanliness that they had the room cleaned despite it being vacant or someone was still hoping she'd come home and kept it clean just in case.
He peered around the room again, it looked very much like it was waiting for her to walk into it. It didn't look like anything had been touched while she was gone. There was a jewelry box open on her vanity and a brush lay beside it, as if waiting to be used. If this had been his room and his parents, he knew everything would have changed. He had no doubt his mother changed everything that reminded her of him the second he left home for good.
Don't go there, Scabior, his inner voice warned. Taking a steadying breath he refocused on his task. Turning back to the bed he lay down on his back on the floor and pulled himself beneath it. Once his eyes had adjusted to the reduced light he saw a small slit in the bottom of the box spring. Reaching inside he felt around until his hand came upon what he was looking for. He pulled it out and slipped out from under the bed.
Examining what was in his hand he smiled. The Origin of Species. She was right, her parents hadn't found it. Opening the first page he glanced down at the child's writing, claiming the book as hers. Perfect. That ensured she would know it was hers, meaning this gift would be even more special to her.
Like the ghost of a shadow, Scabior slipped back through the house, down the stairs and out the window. Closing it behind him he grinned. The occupants of the manor would be none the wiser, never knowing they had had a guest perusing their halls. A guest who also was in possession of their daughter. A fact he was sure they would love to know. But he would never tell them, he'd never tell anyone. A fierce possessiveness struck him, constricting his chest, as he thought of the room upstairs, waiting for her return. Lexington was his and he was going to do his damnedest to keep it that way.
-----**-----
Lexington hadn't seen Scabior at all the day after he'd come back covered in swamp muck. Stretching in her chair as she woke she looked towards the bed. It was empty. Had he even been here last night? She looked for any sign that he had been and her eyes fell on the table. There was a fresh plate of food so he must have been here at some point. She just must have slept through him coming and going. Sitting up straighter she noticed there was something else on the table.
A large, familiar looking book lay in the centre of it. Extricating herself from the blanket and Gawaine, who was draped across her chest, she stood and slowly walked towards the table. She read the title and her jaw dropped. How on earth had he gotten a copy?
She reached out and picked up The Origin of Species, turning it this way and that, examining it. Suddenly she stopped. It couldn't be... She sucked in her breath. She swore her copy had had the exact same dogeared corner on the back cover. The bottom left corner had always been a little bit squashed from when she had dropped it, in her excitement, the first time she had gotten her hands on it.
Slowly she turned it over and opened the front cover, looking for the writing that she knew couldn't possibly be there. It was. There was her name, in the untidy scrawl of a twelve year old. She sat down hard on one of the chairs, staggered by what this meant.
He had gone to her house. He had gone to her house to get her a favourite childhood book. And it had been there. It had been there, which meant her parents hadn't done anything with her room. Why hadn't they changed everything the moment she'd left? They would have been beyond furious with her. Why had he gone to her house? And how on earth had he managed to get inside? Had he talked to her parents? Had he told them about her? That he had her?
Nervousness crept into her veins. It would be the perfect solution for him. If he no longer wanted to keep her and he couldn't hand her to Voldemort, the next best thing would be to hand her back to her parents. If he did that she knew she'd never get away again, not if her father had anything to say about it.
Looking around the room she swallowed. She didn't want to be here, that was true, and she didn't trust Scabior, but if she had to choose between being trapped here with him forever and going back to her childhood home, being trapped there, she'd choose here, hands down.
To stave off her restlessness she hugged her book to her chest and headed to her chair. When she was younger this book had been her escape. It was fascinating enough to capture her attention even when she was close to panic. Until he came back tonight and she could confront him, it would have to serve as an escape again.
Pausing, she looked back at the table, then shook her head. There was no way she'd be able to eat something just yet. She needed to calm down first. She'd like to be able to ask him now, but her only method of summoning him had not worked out very well the last time she tried it.
It was still cold in the tent so she curled up and pulled the blanket over her, glad that it was still warm from her sleeping under it.
Gawaine let out a pitiful mewling from the table. He was sitting there, tail curled around his paws, staring pointedly at her.
“What?”
He meowed loudly, flicking his tail impatiently, as he glanced up at the table.
Lexington sighed, “I'm not getting up again to feed you, its warm under here and its cold out there.”
Gawaine narrowed his eyes and glared at her.
“If you're hungry help yourself, just don't tell Scabior I let you on the table.”
He brightened visibly and jumped up onto the table.
“And don't eat it all!” she said loudly.
His only response was to flick his tail and settle down, pulling some tidbits towards himself with his claws.
Lexington spent most of the day immersed in her book. She managed to eat something about midday because she was starving by that point and had calmed down a bit, realizing that Scabior probably wouldn't have gone to the trouble of getting her book for her if he planned on giving her to her parents.
She also decided that she had made enough progress yesterday on her wandless magic that she could take the day off. Really, she was enjoying reading The Origin of Species so much that she didn't want to put it down. She'd been without it since she left home after her fifth year and was revelling in the familiar pages.
Eventually she was roused from her reading by the cracks of apparation outside the tent. A few minutes later Lexington was taken aback when Thom entered the tent.
“Where's Scabior?” she asked, her throat tightening unexpectedly. “Did something happen?”
“Nah, hun, everythin's a'right. He split from the rest o' us sometime this evenin'. We ran inta some wizards tha' were a bit tricky ta catch an' he went after the one tha' was causin' the most problems when he fled.”
“Oh, okay.”
“I jus' figured I'd see if ya needed anythin', more food?” he said, glancing to the table.
The plate on the table still had a decent amount of food on it, due to her inability to eat that morning.
“I think there's plenty there, Thom, but thanks.”
“No worries, hun,” he said, turning to leave.
“Did he say at all when he'd be back?” she called after him.
He paused, “Nah, sorry, Lex. He didn' get much o' a chance ta say anythin' as he went.”
Lexington sighed, “Okay, night Thom.”
“Night, hun,” he called as he left the tent.
Well, that didn't give her much indication of when to expect him back. Not that she cared, she told herself.
Gawaine stretched in her lap, rolling into a ball on his back. It'd be a shame to get up and eat now, since he looked so content, so she decided to stay put and read some more. After a while her eyelids started to droop and she gently shifted to place the book on the floor without waking the sleeping kitten. Settling deeper into the chair she decided to rest her eyes for a minute before she got up to eat and get ready for the night.
Hours later she was woken by a loud noise, followed by a whispered curse. Sitting up she tried to make out Scabior's form in the darkness, assuming it was him. Dimly she saw movement by the table. He must have tripped on a chair. Guiltily she recalled leaving one pulled out after she'd eaten lunch.
“Sorry,” she said softly before thinking.
Scabior's form stilled, “Lex? You awake?”
“Yeah,” she said louder.
“Good,” he said simply, waving his wand and bringing the lamp on his desk to full brightness.
Lexington sucked in her breath, her chest tightening, there was blood on his shirt. Standing abruptly she deposited a disgruntled Gawaine and the blanket on the chair. “What happened?”
Scabior moved towards her, making for the bathroom, “It's nothin', Lex.”
The blood had started seeping through part of his coat, so she knew there must be a lot of it. Her stomach started doing flips, something she quickly passed off as her normal reaction to seeing blood. It happened every time she found an injured animal that needed tending, not this strong, but it was similar. Swiftly she made a decision.
Stepping into his path she saw him grit his teeth as he had to stop quickly, his hand pressing to his side. “It doesn't look like nothing.”
“It is,” he said, trying to move around her, “I just need to clean it.”
She stepped into his path again. His wince was more pronounced this time. “Let me see.”
“What?”
“Let me see it,” she pressed, reaching for the bottom of his shirt, pulling it upwards.
Scabior's heart started hammering in his chest. His eyes were fixed on her face, but he was acutely aware of her hands. She wasn't paying any attention to him, well, to the uninjured part of him, so she didn't notice him close his eyes and swallow as her fingers moved his shirt higher. He'd thought he'd never feel her touch again, and here she was doing it willingly. Licking his lips he looked at her again, watching the thoughts race around behind her eyes.
Scabior stood absolutely still, making it easy for her to start to examine the wound. A long thin laceration started to the left of his naval and travelled upwards and around his side towards his back. She couldn't see how far it went though, for his coat.
“You need to get this off,” she said pushing the coat off his side, displacing it from his left shoulder.
Silently he shrugged out of it, letting it fall to the floor. Lexington took a step to the right, lifting his shirt again. Her stomach clenched and she swallowed. The cut wrapped around his left side and went almost all the way to his shoulder blade. She ran her fingers along part of it, above the cut, but it must have still hurt because Scabior's breath hissed between his teeth.“Why didn't you get Thom to heal this?” she asked softly, meeting his gaze which was fixed on her.
“It's not as bad as it looks, luv, an' he's sleepin',” he replied, just as quietly.
“That's a poor excuse and you know it,” she said, looking back to the wound, “It needs to be cleaned at the very least and if its not still bleeding, than maybe it can wait until morning. If it is bleeding you have to get him tonight.”
Scabior rolled his eyes, “What do you think I was tryin' to do before you got in the way?”
Lexington scoffed. “As if you could reach your back to clean the whole thing. You, sit there,” she said indicating the desk.
It surprised her when he moved towards the desk without any questions. Her brain quickly jumped to the next task, however, and she hurried into the bathroom to grab water and cloths.
When she came out he was perched on the edge of the desk, not quite sitting on it, but not just leaning on it either. He watched her approach with a cloth and a basin she'd found full of warm water, his eyes unreadable. Reaching him she raised his shirt again. She couldn't see very well because the lamp was on the other side of his body.
“You need to move that way,” she stated, pushing gently on his side.
He complied, sliding to the other end of the desk. Normally, Scabior wouldn't have let someone fuss over him. He knew the cut wasn't bleeding anymore, he had enough skill at minor healing spells to be able to stop the flow of blood, which he'd done before coming back to camp. He also knew Thom could heal it fully in the morning without any problems. He couldn't, however, get enough of her hands on him, the way her finger tips trailed lightly across his skin as she examined the wound, nor the way concern filled her eyes, so he had already decided to let her do whatever she wanted.
Lexington reached behind him and grabbed the lamp, bringing it to her end of the table. Now that she could see the wound, she decided it didn't look like it was still bleeding, but she wouldn't be able to tell until it was clean.
“I'm sorry if this hurts,” she said before she started.
He snorted, “Don't worry, luv, it can't hurt worse than when it happened.”
He drew in a breath, however, as soon as her cloth touched the cut, so she fell silent, focusing on being gentle. At first the going was easy, but as she started cleaning the part that wrapped up around his side it got annoying to have to hold up his shirt and clean. The shirt was bloody and would have to come off anyway.
“This needs to come off too,” she said, tugging it higher.
Scabior swallowed audibly, “You sure, luv?”
His tone had dropped an octave, causing her to meet his gaze, which was rather heated. Suddenly realizing how close she was to him, how intimate she'd been acting while demanding to help, she felt heat rise to her cheeks. She dropped her eyes, focusing on the cut again. There really was no use in stopping now, she'd cleaned the part he'd be able to reach himself anyway. She'd deal with the consequences of her actions later, right now she needed to get it clean.
“Yes,” she said, matter of factly, looking at him again, “I can't reach the higher part at the back with it on.”
His eyes turned wicked, “I may need some help, luv.”
She panicked, “What? Why on earth would you need help taking off your shirt?” Having him take it off so she could continue cleaning was entirely different than her actually, physically taking off his shirt.
Scabior smirked and quirked an eyebrow, “Well, it kind of hurts to move my entire left side.”
Lexington flushed. Of course, how stupid. “I... um... maybe I can manage with it on,” she stammered, watching his eyes darken.
“Lex, just take off my damn shirt,” he said exasperatedly.
“I really think I can manage...”
“Lex-” he warned.
“Fine!” she spat, tugging upward on the material a little harder than she meant to.
“Watch it!” he hissed.
“Sorry,” she amended quickly.
Moving with slower motions she moved to his right side, holding the material out so he could extricate his arm. She had to stand closer, directly in front of him, to manoeuvre the neck of his shirt over his head. She could feel his eyes burning into her the whole time, but she refused to look at him. Once that was done it was a simple matter of pulling it downwards off his left arm so he didn't have to move it too much.
She dropped it beside her and quickly went back to cleaning. A few minutes later she was done and she could see that it wasn't bleeding anymore. She sighed, that was a good sign.
“Am I gonna live?”
“You'll be fine. It's not bleeding anymore and thankfully it isn't that deep. Just get Thom to heal it in the morning,” she said, ignoring his joking tone. “Do you have anything to wrap it with for the night?”
“There should be some gauze or something under the sink.”
She found it and carefully wrapped a layer or two around his torso. “There.”
“Great,” he said, standing suddenly, which brought his body close to hers. Much too close to hers.
She stared at the smooth expanse of his chest for a second before she reined in her emotions. It was late and not the time to be examining the feelings galloping around her brain. She started towards the bathroom with the water and cloth, but he reached out and gently took her arm.
“Lex,” he said, his voice so soft she could barely hear it, “come to bed.”
Her stomach fluttered madly, but she shook her head, “No.”
He sighed, “Lex...”
“No,” she said more firmly, “You were hurt, you needed help, that doesn't change how I feel.”
They stood there for several long seconds, his hand still on her arm while she stubbornly refused to meet his gaze. Finally he let go.
“Fine,” he said, moving off in the direction of the bed. He knew better than to push it, it'd only push her away again, and tonight had been a huge leap towards getting back to where they had been. He could still feel her hands on him. The way she had cleaned his cut, so gently, with such focus, had almost been too much for him to handle. It was probably a good thing she still didn't want to come to bed, he wasn't sure he would be able to keep his hands off of her if she did.
Lexington stood there for another few seconds, gathering her wits, and cursing her inability to not help someone or something when it was in need. Seeing him hurt had brought him back to a more human level in her mind and her reaction to being so close to him, once she'd realized it, had proven, again, that her body was bent and determined to betray her brain.
When she came out of the bathroom the room was back to it's dimly light darkness. Grabbing the blanket off the chair she accidentally spilled a sleeping Gawaine onto the floor.
“Shit! Sorry, Gawaine,” she whispered, scooping him up.
Curling into her chair she shivered. She hadn't noticed while he'd been next to her, but the temperature in the tent had gotten colder since she'd fallen asleep earlier. Pulling the blanket tightly around her, she cuddled Gawaine's warmth close to her chest. He started purring softly and soon she was asleep.
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Redemption Recalled