Chapter Text
The taur, or Lear, as she was called, continued to care for him, washing his wounds, cleaning his scales, keeping him warm, and feeding him scraps of food.
Asher was actually rather enjoying being waited on hand and tail, but he was eager to be far away from this wretched cave and into his own pleasant smelling den on the other side of the woods.
It was something he complained to her about on a daily basis. he was glad to have someone to talk to, even if she was just a taur. She didn’t really talk much, she mostly just listened to him, and would nod her head.
He had gotten well enough to drag himself out of the cave into the open sunlight, which was a welcome solace from the dank, dark nest the dridder had made for herself. The sun warmed him and added new life into stiff, aching limbs. His appetite had increased, and he was frustrated he couldn’t hunt for himself. The girl was good to feed him, but her offerings were too meager to sate him.
He was no longer feverish, or suffering bouts of pain from enduring doses of spider venom, as well as infection. He had recovered almost miraculously. He no longer wished for death- though he did wonder if his life was worth living, with his once perfect body so brutally marred.
He had been enjoying a particularly excellent sunbath, so much so that He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep until Lear was nudging him awake.
“hey.” She beamed, crouching beside him. “I told Rippleflower you were doing poorly and she gave me all this fish to give to you.”
He caught the tantalizing aroma of trout and his mouth watered. However, he maintained a look of indifference as she laid out three fat fish in front of him. “you don’t expect me to eat that RAW do you?”
Her face fell, and he actually regretted his show of ungratefulness. She didn’t HAVE to stay and feed him, after all.
“well… raw fish is good for you.” She offered hesitantly, not meeting his eyes. “and if I cook it, you’ll have to wait longer to go home.”
He sat up abruptly, the fish forgotten. “what did you say?”
“if you eat a little, you should have enough strength to go back to your den.” She pressed her hands into her tunic sleeves. “you’re still not to full strength, but I bet you could make it, if I helped you.”
The idea of sleeping in his own nest made his heart leap. “very well.” he said, and proceeded to gulp down each fish whole.
It was painstakingly slow going, but he was determined. Lear stayed by his side, letting him lean against her when he needed a rest, which was often. He felt humiliated by how much both his winter hibernation, and the dridders treatment had left him, but there was little he could do about it.
he could have wept with joy when they finally arrived, after much painstaking effort, to his den. he had cultivated a lot of plants, not only to hide his home from plain sight- but also for decoration. his den was just as he had left it, having not been slept in since his winter sleep.
he collapsed gratefully into his old nest. the pelts smelled musty, as he hadn't had a chance to wash them. but, it was nothing compared to the dridders cave.
the taur lingered outside hesitantly, only peeking.
"you're welcome to come in." he smirked. "I don't expect you to sleep out in the open."
she came in, but only settled herself at the entrance, staring out as the sun started to set, like a guard. as if she was powerful enough to handle danger on her own! the idea was amusing to him.
“So what’s someone like you doing out here on your own, then?” Asher eyed her with newfound interest.
“someone like me?” the taur glanced at him sharply, a furrow to her brow.
“A juvenile, therefore rather inexperienced.” He flicked his fork tongue out a moment before letting it slide back in. “You hardly seem like the rugged, loner or rogue type. Certainly not the type to throw yourself recklessly into danger for a stranger. Surely you have a tribe of some kind?”
***
Lear’s father and mother sat on the bank together, looking out on the pond as they always did in the morning. They were usually the first to wake up. They enjoyed spending their mornings together to talk before their children were up and about making a nuisance of themselves. Even if Aya and Hemlock’s children were fully grown and more than ready enough to start their own families, they were all content to stay in their small, close knit family group.
The family consisted of Hemlock, a deer taur, his impressive antlers adorned with metal charms, feathers, and other such ornaments, his long wavy light brown hair reaching his shoulders, with warm brown eyes and a usual pleasant smile on his face. Next was Aya, a beautiful mongoose taur, with auburn hair that matched her reddish fur. She held herself proud and strong, and was quick tempered, but loving and protective of her family. After that was Aya’s father- Quetzal. He was a mongoose taur much like his daughter, but his fur was a golden yellow. He was no longer young, but by no means weak or incapable- though not quite as able bodied as he had been in his youth. Also, he had suffered a stab in the chest in a fight several seasons back, which still gave him pains from time to time. He was always ready with a story or a joke, and had a level head, a laid back sort.
Then there was the oldest child, Dadge. Like his mother, he sported auburn hair, and a mongoose body that matched in color. He was proud like his mother, head strong and impulsive. He could be rebellious and argumentative, but usually meant well.
Lastly was Lear. Small, slightly overweight, she had inherited her mother’s mongoose body, but her father’s pale brown hair. She took after her grandfather in personality for the most part, preferring to make others laugh than cause trouble. She was closer to her father and grandfather than her mother, and her brother remained protective of her.
All in all, it was a happy enough family, at least, they all genuinely cared and loved for each other.
As Lear slunk out of the family den that morning, she noted that her parents were in deep conversation, their heads close together. Hemlock covered Aya’s hand in his. They seemed happy, oblivious to the rest of the world.
Lear was about to creep off without being seen, not wishing to disturb them, when her father called her, his tone playful.
“Not going to say good morning are you? To your own parents?”
She sighed with an amused little huff and bounded over to them. “Good morning! Have you two been hobnobbing about anything important?”
“Is your brother awake yet?” Aya ignored her, tail flicking dismissively.
“No. were you expecting him to be?” Lear teased. “Anyway, Grandpa’s snoring something awful, and Dadge is no better. And I’m hungry.”
“Better get some breakfast then.” Hemlock rose to his feet, but not before placing a kiss on Aya’s head. “what do you say to seeing if the mulberries are ripe yet, Lear?”
“I’ll start up some porridge.” Aya got up as well, pacing towards the cave. “if food doesn’t wake your brother up, then nothing will.”
***
“Papa… do you think I’ll find a mate as good as you some day?”
“I should think you would. Why do you ask?” Hemlock gave her a soft smile.
“Well… we’re just in such a secluded spot and all. No one ever comes here.”
“If it’s meant to be, it will happen, sometimes in a way you don’t expect, even.” Her father gave her a quick half hug. “Don’t worry about it.” He gave her back a few pats. “I think that’s enough berries to bring back to the den don’t you? To tell you the truth I’m a bit worn out.”
“You’re sweaty.” Lear eyed her father, cocking her head.
“Well, it’s warm out isn’t it?” her father shouldered his basket with more effort than usual. “Don’t you think?”
“No, not really. Maybe mom should give you some tonic when we get back.”
The trek back was tedious as Hemlock had to stop and catch his breath, occasionally commenting on how he was aching. When they made it home, Aya looked her mate over critically.
“You should rest. You’re all pale.” Lear’s mother said with abrupt sternness.
“I feel a bit light headed.” Hemlock admitted, settling down inside the den. “I don’t think I’ll be eating breakfast with the rest of you, sorry my love.”
“Never mind that.” Aya shook her head and felt his forehead. “You’re very hot.”
“Funny. I feel rather cold.” Hemlock admitted.
“You were saying you were hot earlier.” Lear pointed out, starting to worry. “Mom, is he very sick?”
“After breakfast, take your brother out with you and look for some of herbs.” Aya tucked her mate in with a pelt. “and don’t’ let your grandfather in here, I don’t want him taking ill.”
Lear’s grandfather was the second to be overcome by fever. It was expected, him being older. He didn’t last as long as Lear’s father had. He died within two days.
They were still numb from the death of Hemlock. Lear didn’t even know if it was possible to feel sadder than she did already. It was as though a gaping hole had been punched into her soul, and nothing would fill it.
Her mother remained distant and strict, shouting and lecturing them for forgetting to wash their hands, forcing them to drink tonic at any possible sign of illness. When she wasn’t doing that, she was sitting by the lakeside, staring out into it with eyes dull from grief. Her mother’s pelt had lost its glossy shine, and her ears drooped. Her steps were not proud, but limp and uncertain.
When Dadge fell ill, a new level of desperation took Lear’s mother. Her temper was impossibly short, and she refused to sleep, tending to her son day and night without pause.
Lear felt useless, only able to heed her mother’s demands and chores.
***
“Pack your things, we’re leaving.” Aya’s tone was sharp and no nonsense as she shoved supplies in a satchel. “bring a coat, some sort of knife, and lots of food.”
“Leaving?” her mind was numb with despair, she couldn’t understand what her mother was wanting. “For how long?”
“Forever. We’re not coming back. Hurry up!”
“What?!” Lear’s fur bristled. “But why?! This is our home! We can’t just leave!”
Aya slammed her bag down hard on a rock and rounded on her daughter. “If we stay here, we will die, do you understand me? I didn’t want to believe it at first, but now I’m certain of it- there is PLAGUE here.”
“But-
“Do not argue with me! If I have to drag you out of here by force then I will!”
“I won’t go!” Lear protested tearfully. “We can’t just leave dad and the others to be forgotten, in the earth!”
“That’s the way life is.” Aya said coldly, her voice hard. “Unless you want to be buried with them, you will come with me.”
It was as though she were losing her loved ones all over again. She couldn’t’ stop crying, distraught.
“I don’t want to!” she protested desperately.
“Stop it!” Aya stamped her foot. “It’s just a cave!”
But it wasn’t just a cave, not to her! Lear could only sob inconsolably. Her mother ignored her and just packed her bag for her.
“I have no desire to lose you too.” Her mother snapped, shoving the bag into Lear’s arms. “Get up, stop crying, and let’s go.”
It was a choice of losing her mother, or losing her home and the resting places of her Father, Grandfather, and Brother. In the end, she followed behind Aya, tail dragging in the dirt, paws and heart heavy. She and her mother said nothing to each other for the remainder of the day. Their journey took them around the lake until they came upon a riverbank, which they followed steadily.
“Where are we going?” Lear finally asked on the second day.
“To the tribe of Erimway.” Aya said without looking back. Lear pricked her ears in alarm.
“But… you were banished from there-
“I was. You weren’t.” her mother lashed her tail dismissively. “We won’t last very long, just the two of us. Safety is better kept in numbers. We need a tribe. Besides, the previous Chieftain is long dead I expect, and Curthar and I no longer hold any feelings toward each other.” She snorted. “Hell, with any luck, he’ll be dead too and the whole incident will be well and truly forgotten.”
“Who is Curthar? And what incident?”
“Never mind.” Aya sighed. “I’m not in the mood.” She paused and glanced over her shoulder at her daughter. “I will tell you. Just not today, alright? Let’s keep going.”
***
Aya lay in the dust, terrifyingly frail and small looking in illness.
“Lear…. Listen to me.” Lear had to strain to hear her mother’s voice. “The incident I mentioned…. With Curthar… I was young… stupid… we had a baby together… that’s… why I was… banished…”
“But why?” Lear asked.
“The chieftain’s son…. Has a mate… handpicked for him… by his father… it is… tradition… I was not… picked…”
Aya struggled turn her head. She met Lear’s eyes, glassy with exhaustion and sickness, her hair curtaining her pale face. “You have a brother, Lear. When you get to the tribe… ask for Lars, and tell him what I have told you…” Aya sucked in a shaky breath. “You just have to follow… the river… it will fork, you take the fork to the… left… and follow that… the tribe’s territory will be… across the stone bridge…”
“You’re coming with me.” Lear protested. “You don’t need to tell me this-
“I’m not.” Her mother croaked. “I can’t go with you any further…”
“I won’t leave you-
“I’m so sick… I don’t think I have long… and I don’t want you to be next… so please, PLEASE baby girl, you HAVE to go on without me.”
“You can make it.” Lear shook her head, not wanting to listen. “I know you can! You just have to rest and get better and then we can keep going together- I’ll take care of you till you’re well again!”
“That won’t happen… You need to leave me behind.”
“But if I do you’ll die!”
“If you stay, we both will.” Aya looked up at her with deep sadness in her eyes. “I’m sorry… I know it’s not fair to ask this of you… But I need to keep you safe no matter what…”
She rested herself back down with a heavy sigh. “Just… do me this last favor...” she closed her eyes.
“I love you mom…” Lear swallowed the hard lump in her throat. “Please hold on… please… we can make it to the tribe together… I know it. We don’t have to separate.”
Aya groaned. “You’re too stubborn… and soft- you’re your father’s child…. Right enough… alright… let’s bed for the… night.”
Lear did her best to help her mother feel more comfortable, covering her up and making a nice bed of old leaves and moss for her. Her mother being so ill, there wasn’t really anyone to keep shifts for watch duty, so Lear tried to stay up until daybreak… however, eventually, weariness got the best of her.
She woke up to the sunlight peeking thought the tree branches, stinging her eyes. She rubbed them, yawning. “Feeling any better mom?” she turned her head hopefully to the makeshift nest and froze, blood turning cold.
Her mother wasn’t there.
“Mom? Where are you?” Lear hopped to her feet, fully awake. She paced about the clearing, her nervousness turning to full on panic.
“Mom!” she shouted as loud as she could, looking for any signs of tracks, listening for her mother’s voice, trying to pick up her scent-
But there was nothing. No response, no trace. She searched, and searched the woods around her, knowing her mother couldn’t have gotten far in her condition… but she didn’t turn up anywhere.
Lear sat in the clearing and waited, heart hammering with anxiety, tears streaming down her face.
But her mother didn’t return. Not that night, or the next. Finally, she had to accept what she knew as fact- Aya was gone, forever.
Deep down she knew her mother had left on her own. When Lear had refused to leave her behind, she had used the last of her strength to make sure that Lear had no other choice.
Lear ranted and cursed to herself out of grief, and the loneliness for another voice as she made her way to the river, knowing there was nothing left but to follow her mother’s final instructions to her.
***
She had traveled for a few days without much rest. Her mind was blank, her spirit numb. Walking kept her occupied from intrusive thoughts, so she stayed moving, even through the night, keeping herself to the riverbank. She was hardly aware of her surroundings or the beauty of the forest around her- she was also unaware of danger. All she did was walk, mind and body in a daze.
Occasionally the numbness would fade and she would have to stop to rest, and cry. Eventually she ran out of tears, and she would fall into a fitful doze, then wake up, forage a meager meal before continuing on her way.
It was a sunny noontime when she stopped to rest that day. she sat by the river, too tired to stoop down for a drink, gazing at the life around her with little interest. Dragonflies droned lazily about, and a few small frogs hopped from the bank into the water in alarm at her approach.
When she’d finally gathered her wits to lean down to scoop a handful of water to her mouth, she was suddenly shocked by a splash of cold water to her face. She wiped her bangs in confusion in time to see a shimmering figure prance off across the water’s surface, giggling at it vanished into the water with a small splash.
Lear suddenly became aware of being watched as she licked drops of water off her lips.
A small group of water nymphs danced and played in the water, their bodies as clear and fluid as the river itself. They were small and childlike, female in shape, but no bigger than rabbits or squirrels. They seemed only intent on their play.
Lear then noticed the mermaid. She lounged against a stone on the other bank, half in and out of the water, sunning herself while water nymphs played around her, a few were even braiding water lilies into her hair, giggling and whispering in her ear as they did so.
The mermaid was bigger than the nymphs to be sure, but also rather small. Though obviously an adult, She couldn’t be much bigger than an otter. From what Lear could see of her, her scales were like those of a salmon, green, blue, pink, and white, with spots of black.
She gave Lear little to no acknowledgement. For the most part, the river’s inhabitants were ignoring her. She had gone on for a while without seeing anyone that it was a relief to find herself with company… though, they didn’t seem to have anything to say to her. Really, she wasn’t sure she had anything to say to them either.
Lear continued to slurp down some water, self-conscious of the mermaid’s eyes watching her, before she lay down on her side, settling for a long needed nap.
She had just started to drift off when a cold shock hit her in the face- again- this time it went up her nose too and she sat up, coughing and spluttering.
When she had caught her breath, she saw that the mermaid was now on her side of the bank, and was glaring at her.
“go away.” The mermaid said pompously. “This is my bank, I don’t want you here.” She gave a snobbish sniff. “you’re disturbing us.”
Lear stared at her, not fully registering. Normally, she might have just been hurt at an unwarranted rejection, excused herself, and wandered off elsewhere without argument, but not today.
“Look.” She said sharply to the salmon tailed fish girl. “I’ve come a long way. I’m tired, and I’m sad. I don’t feel like getting up. If you’ve got a problem with that, then I’ll eat you.” She bared her fangs to make her point. “So unless you plan on crawling on land and fighting me, you’d better leave me alone.”
T
he mermaid hissed at her, but backed away. “You couldn’t catch me!” she splashed her tail sulkily. “I’ll tell Lord Asher about you when he wakes up!” she added threateningly. “Then you’ll be sorry!”
“I don’t know who that is, and I don’t care either. Get lost!” Lear turned her back on the river, flicking her tail dismissively as she settled back down to sleep.
She awoke to the sound of screaming, wailing, and terrified shrieks. Lear hauled herself to her feet in alarm, fur fluffing up as she searched about for the source.
The nymphs were beside themselves, setting up a chorus of wails and splashing about in a panic. Some were even weeping openly.
The mermaid however was the one setting up the loudest din, and who could blame her? A large, scaly winged creature with a long neck and lizardlike head had her by the tail, and was fighting to lift her out of the water. The mermaid was putting up an honorable fight, but she was small and slight, and lifted very easily into the air. It would seem as though she might escape a few times, as the winged thing would drop her, but it would catch her up in the air again just as quickly.
It was actually managing to take to the sky with her when Lear pulled herself into action. The mermaid hadn’t been very nice to her, but that didn’t really warrant her being eaten alive by some nasty scaly thing.
Lear picked up a large rock and flung it as hard as she could. It missed, but was an effective distraction. The monster screeched and dodged, one claw raised instinctively, now holding the mermaid by one foot. Lear bounded across the rocks along the river bank, leaping and catching the thing by one of it’s wing’s and dragging it hard towards the ground. She was pulled up, but managed to keep her hind feet firmly planted on the bank. The creature lashed out with it’s foot, clawing at her, but she grabbed hold of that too, and it was forced to release it’s catch to attack her again. The mermaid hit the bank hard, and Lear let go, and the thing flew off with a sky wrenching shriek.
The mermaid lay gasping, unable to breathe on land, her tail was full of deep gouges as it flopped against the mud as she tried to propel herself back into the water. Lear grabbed her by the arms and hauled her into the river into the waiting arms of the nymphs, who were weeping now with relief and joy to have her back, whatever she was to them.
“bet you’re glad I was here after all.” Lear couldn’t resist remarking as she examined her own cuts. It had barely grazed her, but blood seeped out in a few places.
The mermaid was being tended to by her nymphs, who were covering her injured tail in moss. She glared at Lear coldly, saying nothing. She finally looked away, nose in the air.
“It was only right for you to repay me for letting you stay here. I guess I WON’T tell Lord Asher about you after all.”
“still don’t know who that is.” Lear shrugged, settling down on the grass. “but thanks I guess.”
“this is Lord Asher’s territory that you are in. He is lord of the land, while I, Lady Rippleflower, am steward of this stretch of the river.”
Lear couldn’t think of a name any stupider than “Rippleflower” but held her tongue. “only this stretch? You don’t own the whole river?”
Rippleflower sniffed haughtily. “what would I do with the whole river? I only need enough room to hunt.”
“I see.” Lear nodded stiffly. “You… wouldn’t happen to know where the Tribe of Erimway is, would you?”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Rippleflower massaged her tail, pouting. “You should have acted faster. My beautiful tail is ruined now.”
Lear decided to ignore her. “Do you think your Lord Asher knows anything about it?”
“I couldn’t say.” The mermaid huffed. “anyway, I haven’t seen him all spring. He usually visits me as soon as he wakes up. I don’t know where he’s gone off to, so I can’t say where he is if you want to ask him.”
Lear glanced up at the sky. The creature had long gone, but there was a tension in the air, and a smell of rain. She could see dark clouds beginning to roll in, and the wind was steadily picking up, the temperature cooling gradually. “thank you.” She offered, leaping across the rocks back to her original side of the bank. “I’m going to look for shelter, and then I’m going to continue traveling. Try not to get eaten.”
****
"hello? are you listening to me?"
Asher was growing annoyed by her silence.
She turned her back to him, preferring to gaze out the cave entrance. “I had a tribe… but they’re gone now.”
“ah, so you thought it would be better to perhaps die in a rescue attempt than live on your own, how noble.” Asher purred.
When she said nothing, nor looked at him, he realized that may have been a rather insensitive statement. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make light of- you mean gone as in disbanded…. Or?”
She sighed, shifting her weight against the stone floor. Her tail tucked around her paws. “There was a fever. Everyone died.”
Asher’s eyes widened. “A fever was bad enough to wipe out an entire tribe?!”
“it wasn’t a big tribe. We were only a small family unit.” Lear’s voice remained low and quiet. “there were maybe… five or six of us.”
“I’m… I’m so sorry.” Asher reached out a hand and gently brushed her shoulder.
“it’s fine… it happens.” There was a dull blank sound to her tone, as though this were something she’d repeated to herself to numb the pain.
“Well… if you like.” Asher peered at her, bundled up in a tunic too big for her, suddenly realizing how well it covered how small and starved she really was. “You can live with me… unless you have need of better accommodations, then I completely understand.”
“Look, it’s not like I don’t appreciate the offer.” Her response was curt. “But you don’t have to feel obligated to pity me or offer me anything just because I saved you.”
She thought him insincere. He had thought he’d been quite genuine. He sniffed in disdain, studying his nails. “Who said anything about obligation? You were the one who decided to help me, and nurse me back to health, I never asked for it. Besides, if I did feel obligated to repay you, I would repay you in kind, not give you reign of my nest. I am asking you to live with me because I like you.”
She remained still and silent. Asher continued, hoping to lighten the mood. “As hard as it might be to believe, I do get tired of my own company.”
Finally, after a long, drawn out pause, she spoke, her voice hoarse and thick with a forced back sob. “Thank you…”
“you can think it over. There’s no rush.” Asher assured her gently.