Legends of Belariath

Trinka

Ambush {Aided by Ahrak}

The plan was simple enough. A rider would pass through the forest just before dawn; in route to deliver finances that would fund a small lord’s army that in turn would be used in an attempt to eradicate the tribe. Colin would handle the fighting while Trinka snatched the saddlebags containing the money. She’d return to camp and turn the bags over to Abigail. The tribe was in sore need of supplies and it gave the priestess a sadistic sort of pleasure to buy those supplies with money that had been intended to bring about her fall. Trinka scowled at the darkness of the forest and the brush that she was hidden in. Nothing was going right. She’d fought horribly with Syn before she left. Therefore, her mind wasn’t fully on her work. Colin still hadn’t shown up and she could hear hoof beats steadily advancing from down the lane.

“Kaltrinka,” the voice came from just behind her, but she did not get the chance to turn around. The pommel of Colin’s blade slammed into her temple. There was the white lightening strike of pain then her vision blurred and the world went black…

…He had barely made it out with his life. The rider was odd; it was hard to put together in his head. The horse hadn’t acted as expected either. Instead of rearing up, startled when Colin had waved the torch right in front of it, it only continued, step for step—as if it knew just where it was going and nothing was going to still its advance. The rider had dismounted with an annoyed growl, a blade in hand before Colin had even gathered his own after discarding the useless torch.

The way that his hat hid his eyes was even more unsettling. It seemed that he wasn’t even watching what he was doing. Yet, each strike was matched and countered to perfection. Finally, Colin was brought to his knees and the killing blow was on the horizon. His saving grace, strangely enough was Trinka. She stumbled out of the woods, blood stained down

the right side of her cloak. Her appearance hadn’t even fazed his enemy. The choked scream parted her lips as she tripped into the flooded stream along the side of the road giving Colin an opening. The rider turned at the sound, and Colin swept his feet from under him, taking off through the woods at a dead run before the man could climb to his feet again. The saddlebag was flung over his shoulder. Once he reached the mountains, he could put all of this behind him, betraying the Abigail, assaulting and possibly killing Trinka, stealing the money that he knew the tribe desperately needed, but he’d live out his life a rich man. Almost there…

Westlake groaned in annoyance as he pulled himself back up to his feet, one hand already on the saddle before he paused. A little torn now; his primary duty was to deliver the gold, which would involve chasing the thief down on foot through an unknown forest, but there was, also the girl... "Damnit..." he sighed, then slung his blade and walked over to the stream. It was easy enough to find her with the water burbling in protest to her body. He knelt down, took a hold of her shoulders, and rolled her onto her back.

“Lovely…” The swordsman sighed again, then leaned down and pinched her nose shut. A brief look of distaste crossed his features before he formed a seal over her lips with his own and exhaled a deep breath into her. Then he sat up, placed his hands above her impressive bosom, and made several short pumps upon her chest.

Trinka was not so far gone that it took more than that. She choked for a moment before yanking back, gasping for breath and trying to blink the fuzzy glaze from her eyes. There was still the pain in her head, a the slow warmth of blood trailing down from her temple, but for now all she managed to do was to stare blearily at who or what she had pulled away from. He looked like something out of legend. Tall and covered in dark armor that had seen better days, a flowing blue cloak with a faded lining. A simple black strap tied his long white hair back, and his eyes where hidden by the wide brim of his hat, but he boasted smooth lips and an otherwise hansom face.

“Do you want me to help you, or would you rather lie there like a fish?”

"There's nothing wrong with fish." Trinka mumbled. She shook her head while she tried to swipe her hair from her face, but it was an ill aimed attempt and didn’t work at all. Finally, her hand fell back to her lap while she tried to think of a reason to deny his aid. Then shakily, she reached out to the stranger. She wasn't left with much of a choice.

He didn't say anything, just unceremoniously scooped her up out of the water and over his shoulder. Carrying her from the stream, he made a soft whistle that drew his horse back over to him. She was laid down, and an attempt was made to remove her clothes. She grumbled at him, but was honestly too weak to put up any sort of fight. Though once the clothes were removed, the cold set in and she started shivering twice as bad as before… Westlake let her suffer and began unpacking his remaining items. He ran his hands over his possessions, and then kneeled down beside her. A shirt was run over her body to dry her off a little, and perhaps annoyingly, he didn’t even attempt to feel her flesh with a bare hand. Once she was somewhat dry, two blankets were draped down over her before he rummaged around for some bandages.

Trinka finally sat up, holding her head in a hand.

"What are you doing?" it was more mumbling again. She hadn't bothered to look at him clearly and she was fairly used to being pawed for whatever reason. The other hand pulled the blankets tighter around her shoulders while she struggled to recall the events of the past twenty minutes or so. She didn’t look up when he walked back over to her and knelt down, pulling her hand from her head.

"Keeping you alive, for now." He sniffed near her wound, and then gently probed around it with his fingers. Trinka yelped and tried to yank away from the probing. "Or trying to kill me!"

Nodding to himself, he applied a few leaves to help the healing, and then bandaged her up with practiced ease. She grumbled through the bandaging, refusing to admit that she was feeling a little better. At least she could think clearly...

"Where's the money?"

Westlake smirked slightly, “Well I'm glad you can admit to being a thief, though I must confess that I had been looking forward to proving it to you. As to where half of it is, that's why you're still alive."

“I'm not a thief… and what do you mean half??” Westlake finished dressing the wound, and then set about making a fire. "No? You just happened to be wandering along this road tonight. -A- thief knocked you out and decided that whatever I might be carrying with me was worth more than ravishing you, on a guess? And why the concern in the money... that you somehow knew about... if you weren't an accomplice that got the short end of the stick?”

“Still doesn't make me a thief.” “Only because you were taken out before you could help your friend. Rather stupid of him I might add. He should have waited until I was dealt with before taking you out. Not that you would have been much help that is, but who knows, he might have gotten off with all the money instead of just half.”

“....that stupid lil fuck!” Trinka bothered now to try climbing to her feet..."Where's the rest of it?"

Westlake held his hands out over the fire for a moment, then sighed and took a seat on a large rock. "You don't need to worry about that now. The question is; where’s your friend going?”

She scowled darkly. Where the hell had he taken off to? Back to camp or... or had he actually stabbed her in the back... Westlake steepled his fingers, "You don't seem to be aware of your predicament. Your friend has stolen a large sum of money that I was entrusted to deliver. You can help me reclaim it, and I forget about you or I can deliver you with the remaining half to see if the other party can wrestle the information from you with less civilized means. I'm sure they'd be very interested in finding out how you knew I'd be coming this way tonight.”

“You won't be delivering the rest of that money, sir. Even half of what was there will be enough to cause trouble.” Trinka looked him over, taking a step closer to the fire..."You were entrusted... or paid?"

“Both. And please don't threaten me, laughing hurts my ribs.”

“It wasn't a threat. How much?”

“How much what?” “How much were you paid?”

“I don't see how that's any of your business.”

“Of course it is. I want to know how much it'll cost me to keep that money from falling into the wrong hands.”

“I'm afraid you're out of luck then.”

“Everyone has a price, all I'm asking is what' yours is.”

“I don't have one. If I could be bribed, I doubt I'd be trusted to single-handedly deliver such large sums. I said I would deliver the money, and so I shall.”

Trinka glowered, reaching up to run her fingers over the bandage..."So you support genocide?"

“It's none of my business or concern what the money is used for.”

“If you knew, would it make any difference?”

“No.”

“I find it very hard to believe that a man who prizes his honor so highly would not care that he's contributing to the annihilation of an entire race.”

“Today I'm paid to deliver the money; tomorrow someone might pay me to kill them. It makes little difference to me.”

“So it really isn't about honor at all... it’s about money.” “It's -my- honor that counts. If it were just about the money, I'd have let you drown.”

“You're contradicting yourself. You'll save me from drowning, but still deliver money that you know is going to be used to kill hundreds of people.”

“Not by my hand. And furthermore—“

“May as well be, since you can stop it.”

“I'm betting you two weren't planning on rendering me unconscious yet alive, were you?” “We did not intend to kill you. You're only the messenger, so to speak.”

“Which is why your friend had a sword and not a club.”

“.... He wasn't supposed to have a sword...”

“If I fail then I'm marked as an outlaw, someone else delivers another source of funds, and the process continues.”

Trinka walked over to stand by the fire, across from him..."You only saved me figuring I can help you get back the other half of the money, or serve as a replacement for the missing gold?"

“I'm sure I would have pulled you out had I happened along and thought you to be in distress... but as you are a thief, yes, I saved you so that you might make amends for the losses you caused me.”

“I am not a thief! Furthermore, I am not going to help you.”

Westlake sighed, "The fact you were rendered unconscious hardly excuses you from the fact you were going to rob me. And have it your way, the man who betrayed you and stole the funds to put to his own uses will get away, and you'll end up being tortured before being put to death."

“Like hell.” She turned on her heels and quite simply started walking away.

Westlake let her get a few feet away, and then raised his hand. Energy hummed and crackled over his palm, before a bright yellow bolt lanced out and into her shoulder. She bit back a scream and stumbled again, barely catching herself as her hand fell onto a nearby tree trunk, the force of the fall causing her hand to slip and the rough bark to scratch through her skin. The swordsman slowly rose and walked over to her side. "Please try to refrain from any further acts of stupidity... I'm in a rather bad mood as it is."

Trinka hissed and her eyes shut tightly as the pain dulled to a burn, “I’m not in the greatest of humors either…”

Damnit. She was too weak to pull off any of her own magic, for now. It was still two days ride to the manor where the money was expected. By then, she'd think of something.

Westlake kneeled down, and then put his hands on her shoulders to help her rise. "I'll give you until morning to decide if you're going to help me or not. You need the rest.”

“Right, like I can sleep.”

“You can't? Must be useful.”

Trinka scowled, trying to brush his hands from her shoulders, but she was weakening by the moment. Westlake sighed, refusing to let go of her and walked her back over to the fire, then gently helped her lay down. Once she was not in any danger of falling on her face, he turned and set about filling a feedbag for the horse.

"Are you hungry?"

“No.”

He merely nodded, then pulled off his cloak, followed by his armor, then his shirt. His muscled frame was a near hideous display of scars; one would be hard-pressed to find an inch of flesh that wasn't marked by an old cut of any sort.

Trinka remained for silent now, glaring at the fire. This was all Colin's fault. If he hadn't... it was finally sinking in, what he had actually done. Not only had he attacked her and left her for dead, he'd betrayed the entire clan and put her into a position where she may not even be able to help them, let alone get herself out alive. Westlake lay down on the ground, balled his shirt up under him for a pillow, and used his cloak as a blanket. "What's your name?”

“Doesn't matter anymore than yours does.” “Very well, Westlake.”

Trinka looked at him, more than a little confused, "Why bother telling me when you assume I'll be dead in a few days anyways?"

“It's only polite to ask.” “...You're very impossible, Westlake.”

Westlake shrugged. "What would you have me do? Let you go, with the remainder of the money, to save a race that couldn't possibly give a damn about me other th.... What are you, anyway?”

“It's not that fruitless. You'd be compensated and protected if need be…Alcane.”

“I don't need protection. I've been caring for myself since I could stand.”

“Was just saying... if you were to consider it... we'd make it worth your trouble...”

“And why should I care what happens to anyone?” Westlake said with a little touch of bitterness in his voice.

Trinka lofted a brow. On second thought... She sat up slowly, still taking care to keep the blankets around her. "You mean you've never cared about anyone?"

He didn’t say anything but his lips tightened a little, and he rolled over onto his side, facing away from her.

“It’s a pretty cut and dry question, yes or no. How bout this... if you tell me, I'll tell you my name.” Trinka probed. “…Yes.”

Trinka gave a little nod, "Alright... Trinka."

“Cute…”

“I suppose.”

“Why ask?”

“Well, I thought it might help you to understand why I was out here tonight... if you're interested.”

“I'll listen…”

“Are you even a little bit curious? Or just being polite?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes. I won't waste my breath if you're only being polite.”

“I'm remotely curious, go ahead.”

Trinka nodded and looked at the small fire. Just enough to keep the wolves at bay and to provide a bit of warmth, "Well as I said, the money is going for troops t--" she paused staring at his scarred back, "Can you at least look at me while I’m talking?”

Westlake lay there for a few moments while the silence stretched on. Finally, he rolled over, facing her if not looking at her. "Go on.” “Um… right. Where was I? Oh yes, the money. Troops and whatnot for Gorin. Now Gorin happens to have a rather unfounded hatred for our little group. We've never done anything to him mind you. His youngest daughter turned up missing while we we're passing through. We even found her and returned her to him. Unfortunately, we found her too late and the poor child had already succumbed to the elements. We were in no way to blame for her ill-fated death, but he still accused us....He hasn't let go of that and has plans to wipe out the entire clan. Colin and I were only going to take the money, like I said; there was no reason not to leave you alive. I-I don’t know what happen to him… why he did what he did.”

“Greed does that to people... I imagine that being nomads, none of you are very wealthy...”

“All depends on how you define wealth.”

Westlake rose, and sifted his fingers through the grass until he found her clothes. Rising, he began to wring them out, "Material wealth, I'm no bard, I don't equate love and happiness as wealth." Then he spread her clothes out flat, a safe distance from the fire but close enough to get them to dry out.

“We have our share of gold. We're not what lords would call poor,” Trinka tilted her head a bit as she watched him. "I think that's a reason they hate us even more. They can't technically look down their noses at us financially."

“Perhaps...”

Trinka wasn’t about to admit that they'd hit a dry spell and needed the gold. After all, she'd already promised that they

could pay him should he decided against delivering the money.

He rose again searched the rest of his gear until he came to the horse blanket. He unrolled it carefully, revealing several large bags, the contents of which she could guess. The blanket went over the horse and the feedbag removed, and then he laid down again, the money kept close by his side.

Trinka grumbled, eyeing him. "Yer just doing that to taunt me." “A healthy horse means somewhat more to me than your emotional comfort.”

Trinka watched him for another moment before slipping over to him, though to the opposite side than the money; she leans down just a little, lying next to him, whispering "Westlake..."

He tensed slightly and leaned away a little. "What?"

She murmured, though it was not in a coy tone, "Give me the money... you'll get your share and can be on your way. Gorin's an ass and his opinion doesn't mean anything to anyone. He's equally disliked among his peers. Hell, you may even gain a better reputation for having given him his due..."

He paused for a moment, turning away from her just a bit. He sighed and shook his head. "Be that as it may, he most likely could make my life miserable." and he turned his back to her once again, "More so than it already is."

“Not if he's dead...”

“And is he dead?”

Trinka grumbled. "Well I can't very well be two places at once, now can I?"

“So you want me to take you to one of my employers just to kill him?”

She shook her head. "No no no." She reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder, "Just give me the money... come back with me to the camp... Hell, take it for yourself, drop it in the river, or toss it in the fire... just... don't deliver it...Please..."

Westlake tensed again but didn’t shrug her off. He thought for a few moments, old memories drudging up then he sighed. "How far is your camp from here?”

Trinka bit her lip, trying to keep from getting her hopes up. "Only half a days ride.” “…Fine... I'll examine your camp before making a decision.”

Trinka smiled, brightly that time and grabbed him in a weak but gratefully hug, even if it was awkward since he had his back to her. “Thank you!" Westlake blinked in surprise, and then coughed. "Er... yes... you're welcome. Trinka."

She pulled back a little, though her hands were still resting on him..."I promise you won't regret it, Westlake.”

He sighed slightly and tried to ignore the pleasantness that came from feeling her hands upon his marred flesh. “We'll see..." Trinka slid her hands down over his back with a faint frown. "Do you ever relax?"

He tried not to shiver, fighting between the urge to pull away and to simply enjoy it. "No… It’s a good way to get killed." She chuckled a little. "Alright, roll over a bit more, and you have my word I won't kill you," she murmured while urging him to lay flat on his chest. He raised a brow but slowly did as bidden. She waited until he had done as she directed then sat up and slipped over, straddling his thighs so that she could reach out and get at his shoulders first. Slightly chill fingertips pressed into the tight muscles, trying to work away the knots, of which there are many. West blinked, and then slowly closed his eyes as he rested his forehead on his crossed arms, the flesh tight, and the muscles beneath them even more so.

She worked at his shoulders; steadily moving down his back. He was almost asleep by the time her fingers cramped up with the effort. His breathing deep and even, a few faint moans having been the only sound from him through the ordeal. She smiled then her eyes fell on the bags. She shook her head firmly and carefully slipped off of him to lie down again. She'd given her word now, no going back on it.

Westlake sighed and slowly lifted his head up. "Thank you…”

She blinked then smiled again. "I thought you'd fallen asleep on me..."

He smirked and shook his head then yawned. "Close though..." Trinka nodded and climbed to her feet to go back to her place across the fire. The swordsman sighed softly and curled up with a luxurious little purr, causing Trinka to blink a little and shiver, trying to pretend she didn't hear him. Of course wasn’t really his fault, how was he supposed to know it had been weeks since she’d had any 'company'.

“Think you'll be able to sleep?”

“...no.”

“Why not?”

Trinka shrugged. "Not tired..." her mind was still going a mile a minute, and trailing into less than pure thoughts, though her body was exhausted. Westlake gave a nod then stretched out again; reveling in the blissful state, she'd put him in, another moan followed to signify it.

"I feel good…”

She cringed and pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, murmuring in a less than steady voice, "You're welcome…"

Westlake raised a brow again. "Is something wrong?"

"No." She answered a bit quickly.

He sat up and turned to face her. "Tell me…”

Trinka blinked. "Nothing is wrong... I'm fine... go to sleep."

“….Very well…”

Westlake lay down, twisting with a few little grunts before getting comfortable. Listening, Trinka clenched her teeth and rolled over so that her back was too him for a change. Westlake sighed softly in relaxed contentment then closed his eyes.

“Westlake....”

“Yes?”

“I— we’ll leave first thing in the morning, right?”

“Yes... why?”

“Just wondering.”

“...Are you sure you're alright? You sound—funny.”

Trinka frowned and looked over her shoulder at him. "Funny how?"

“...Personally, you sound like you're aroused.”

“You can't tell that just from someone's voice!”

Westlake smirked. "Yes you can..." she grumbled, yanking the covers back over as she turned from him again.

"You cannot."

“Then why do you sound embarrassed?”

“I'm faking it for your amusement.”

“It's flattering.”

She muttered now, "Don't let it go to your head. I've just been lonely lately."

“...So have I.”

Trinka frowned, that would make an advance easier to make for sure, but she stayed quiet, determined to relax and rest if not sleep.

Westlake shrugged slightly and lay back with his arms under his head. "If you need help relaxing, I don't mind..." Trinka blinked. "And just how do you purpose to 'help' me relax?"

“Like I said, you seemed to be aroused... frustrated perhaps?”

“That doesn't really answer the question, now does it?”

“Ah I see. Lovemaking then or whatever it's called these

days.” She smirked to herself. "Isn't love kinda a requirement for that?"

“Well the act I meant... what would you call it?”

She cringed; he obviously was not going to drop it. "Sex." Westlake nodded, “Sex then.”

Trinka finally rolled over to look at him, "Why would you offer something like that to a total stranger?"

He shrugged with a little smirk. "Why would you mount and rub a total stranger?"

“Because it didn't involve getting undressed!”

“You're already naked though...”

Trinka blinked and groaned pulling the blanket up enough for her to cover her head, having forgotten that.

Westlake chuckled and lay back again. "Just a suggestion mind you, I can fall asleep easily enough." She grumbled through clenched teeth, "Then get to it already.” He chuckled again, and then went quiet while she did the same. Come morning, he found her sleeping soundly, right next to him.

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