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Stephanie was not the only woman in the camp. It just so happened that she was the only woman, only person, in camp that was also half-giant, and they were quite happy to point it out on more than one occasion. In a world of many different races and species, to think that her own kind would treat her so coarsely...She raised her chin and smiled politely through the veiled and not-so-veiled remarks.
Standing anywhere from a half-foot to a full foot above the tallest of Nord men in the camp, Stephanie was very aware of her unusual height, the broadness in her form that came with it. Before joining the Nordic army, she’d never once given it another thought. Now though, it was all she could think about. Her shoulders were too broad, her arms too thick. The muscles from carrying her frame across her back were thick and too manly.
It was no wonder the men were quick to degrade her, the women quick to treat her so poorly. She was no prize to be won. She was a beast, as they said, to be feared and crushed down.
The first fight was not exactly a surprise. The tension had been building ever since she step foot inside the training grounds. Whispers followed her across the field towards the armory shed, louder and louder as she went. When she opened her chest to find her things missing, she knew.
Turning around to find more than a half dozen men crowding the doorway to the shed, Stephanie put her hands slowly up, palms forward. “Now, fellas, think about what you’re doing. Surely we can work this out.”
Gallinius scoffed loudly. “A beast like you isn’t smart enough. Walking around here like you’re better than the rest of us!”
“Freaks should be hidden! Maybe when the General finds out you ain’t got your stuff, you’ll get the lash! If your freak back doesn’t break their whips!” Varo crowed, and the rest of the men laughed.
Across the field, a flash of dark skin -so rare among the Nords- caught Stephanie’s gaze, drawing it in until she met eyes that were as red as flame even from a distance.
Then, the shed door slammed shut, and the men lunged.
Stephanie gave as good as she got and, when the commanders and lieutenants pulled them all apart, the men came out as worse for wear as her. Blood covered her face from a gash that bisected her left eye. She could feel the bruises forming all along her body, but she did her best to keep her chin up and shoulders back as she was dragged before the General.
A mage healer tended to Stephanie’s eye as she waited for the General to turn around and acknowledge her. Her hands clasped together in her lap, knuckles white under the scrapes and blood.
“That was quite a fight for something that only lasted a couple minutes,” the General spoke, tone musing for all it’s orderliness. “How is she?”
“She’ll heal,” the mage replied, finishing applying an ointment along the gash. It was warm and stung a little, but her eye didn’t so much as water. The mage was surprisingly gentle. “It will probably scar, though. I assume the ring that split you open was poison-coated.”
“Thank you,” Stephanie said softly. “I’ll be fine.”
The mage hummed noncommittally and left the General’s tent. There was a beat of silence, and Stephanie shifted on her stool. It creaked and, finally, the General turned around.
Stephanie had always admired the General. The very ideal of the perfect woman. Average Nord height, pale skin, and eyes that promised the feeling of a win in battle. She was in command, imposing without being brutish and ugly. Stephanie was jealous, and attracted, but mostly envious of what she could never be.
“Why don’t we start with who started the fight, cadet?”
“I don’t know, General Carter,” Stephanie replied, squaring her shoulders. The muscles ached in protest, but she kept herself straight.
General Carter raised her brow. “You don’t know? You just happened to, what, fall into a fight that had already started in a closed room?”
Stephanie bit the inside of her cheek, but didn’t answer. It didn’t matter who started it. It wouldn’t stop, and she believed that she’d one day be able to fight back properly to where it would. Whining to the General about the men stealing her stuff wouldn’t do her any good.
“I see,” General Carter sighed and steepled her fingers atop the desk. “Stephanie Titanborn.”
Stephanie tensed a little at the name.
“You’ve had a bit of a rough go of it, haven’t you? Mother died in childbirth. Father was distant. Is that why you’ve run away to war?”
“With all due respect, General,” Stephanie began, hesitated, then continued. “My past is just that. I’d like to keep it that way. I’m here because I believe I can do some good, and if I have to deal with a few bumps along the way…” She shrugged.
General Carter leaned back in her seat. “Insightful. Alright, fine. I won’t tolerate fighting in my camp, Titanborn. Find a way to deal with it, or I will. And I promise, it will not be pretty. Dismissed.”
“Aye, General,” Stephanie replied, pushing to her feet. The feeling of it being unfair never crossed her mind. It was her fault, she knew, for being different.
General Carter watched her leave the tent and, not a moment after, a new voice piped up. Low and husky, the words were muttered from the rear of the tent.
“I know who it was.”
Carter reached up to rub her temple. “Considering you’re the one who alerted the brass, I’m sure you do. She’s going to have to find her spine if she wants to survive here.”
“I’d say lying to you outright is spine enough,” Stark said. “I don’t like this whole ‘overcome the bully’ mentality. That’s not how my people handle these things.”
“No, your kind just shuns everything and everyone until you’re alone.” Carter turned in her seat to eye Stark.
Stark met her gaze squarely. “I’m not alone. After all, I’m surrounded by nasty Nords in a camp where I don’t think anyone believes in bathing. And all of this because of you, Peggy.”
“Aye, because of me. If it wasn’t for me, your father would’ve drowned you the second you were old enough to speak with that smart mouth of yours.”
Stark’s lip curled faintly and stepped forward to reach for a lock of the General’s hair that had fallen from the tight bun. Tucking it behind Peggy’s ear, Stark said, “It’s this smart mouth that’s kept me alive here. And it’s this,” Stark poked Peggy’s chest, “that keeps me here. I hope this plan of yours doesn’t backfire, naneth, because I quite like her.”
As Stark disappeared through the back of the tent, Peggy just sighed and rubbed both hands over her brow. “Of course you do. Damn elf.”
~~
Stephanie wasn’t given to much gossip. Mostly because she had no friends in the camp, and she tried to avoid being around groups of the other cadets as often as possible. But even she couldn’t avoid hearing about the Dunmer that helped run the armory that followed the company from training ground to training ground.
“Bastard elf that follows the General around like a mutt sniffing for its next meal.”
“Born in a high-to-do family that didn’t want the bastard.”
“Heard Carter saved the bastard’s life, and now it won’t leave.”
Other rumors were worse, bad enough to twist Stephanie’s stomach with the things the cadets and other soldiers dared to say. She never saw the Dunmer though, not really. She’d catch dark skin out of the corner of her eye, but the elf would be nowhere to be seen when she turned.
Going directly to the armory was out of the question. Stephanie was lucky enough to have the blade and shield they gave her not go missing permanently from her fellow cadets. She’d learned to keep the items close by in hopes that dissuaded anyone further.
It didn’t always. So she sharpened her sword herself and kept her shield as polished as she could. She didn’t need to draw anymore attention to herself by going into the armory. It made sense in her head.
She was just so tired.
But she couldn’t sleep that night, either, so she rolled off her pallet -set a little away from the rest of cadets- and walked towards the edge of the camp. The moon was barely out, covered by clouds that moved slowly across the sky, but it didn’t hinder her steps in the slightest. It was a path she knew well; she always walked it on her restless nights.
What was unknown to her was the angry scuffle taking place not two meters out. From where Stephanie stood, she couldn’t make the figures from the shadows, but it was obvious there was fight starting.
Her mouth twisted, hands fisting at her sides. It wasn’t her fight and, if she threw herself into to help, she’d probably just make things worse. No one in the fight would certainly thank her for it. And the brass would definitely come down hard on her, Carter’s ‘tough love’ meted out with an unyielding hand.
She hesitated, but still, Stephanie’s feet refused to let her pass.
“Put your hand on me one more time, and I’ll cut it off and feed you your fingers, athuum!”
And that right there revealed that the one being cornered was the Dunmer that Stephanie had never personally met. She was pretty sure, amid all the other things she’d heard about the Dunmer, that the elf could take care of himself, but the two men advancing on him laughed and muttered something too low for Stephanie to hear.
It didn’t matter; she was already charging forward. It was perfectly fine for the cadets to pick on her, take out their fear and hate on her; she could handle it. But she refused to standby and watch them treat someone else that way. She couldn’t. Maybe it was from a deep-seeded desire for someone to stand up for her that pushed her forward.
“Leave ‘im alone if you know what’s good for you!” She growled and swung her fist. It connected against one of the men's head with a solid thwack, and she caught him as he dropped, hauling him up and tossing him to the side in the dirt. “Stay down!”
“Looks like you got a beast for a guard dog, Stark.” There was a sharp curse, and the fence shook as the soldier shoved the elf against the planks. It was hard, in the dark, to distinguish the elf’s dark clothes from his skin, but Stephanie was pretty sure she’d dream of those red eyes for the rest of her life.
She started towards the soldier holding the elf. The cap the elf was wearing caught against the wooden planks and pulled free as he dropped down to catch the soldier in the balls with the heel of his hand.
Stephanie was frozen in surprise as she watched curl after dark curl tumble down the elf’s back. The soldier groaned sickly and fell to his knees.
Stark kicked the soldier for good measure, smirking as he dry heaved in the grass. Stephanie had enough presence of mine to kick the cadet in the face as he tried to rise behind her.
“You’re a…” Stephanie trailed off, staring at the elf with wide eyes. She didn’t mean to, but she’d just assumed the elf in the armory had been male. No one had ever...She’d never heard anything about Stark being female. “Oh, Gods. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to stare.”
She blinked and tried to look anywhere but right at Stark, but not before she saw Stark settle a hand on her hip.
“It’s fine, Titanborn,” Stark said. “You are not the first.”
“I, of all people, should know it’s rude,” Stephanie said through gritted teeth, though her gaze kept darting back to Stark.
“Aye, you should, but you were not expecting me, I think?” Stark sounded amused. “Come, walk with me away from this...trash.”
Stephanie bit the inside of her cheek, fingers flexing for a moment before she nodded and fell into step beside the elf.
“You’ve never come to the armory. How were you supposed to know?”
“I...I guess you’re right,” Stephanie said, frowning. She kept checking over her shoulder to make sure the men weren’t following.
“Ah, you learn quickly. That’s good. You are Stephanie Titanborn. I am Natasha Stark. I don’t allow many to call me Natasha, but I’ve been waiting to meet you for a long time. I think, I shall let you.”
Stephanie paused, turning to look at Natasha. Being an elf, she was on the tall side, a bit taller than that average male Nord, but still shorter than Stephanie herself. She felt the urge to slouch a little, but Natasha raised a brow as soon as Stephanie had started. She straightened back up.
“Wait, you wanted to meet me? Why?”
“A woman born of giants and you think you’re not worthy to be met?” Natasha laughed, the husky whorl of it warming Stephanie’s gut.
“I’m just,” a monster, a beast, a freak, “me. There’s nothing really special about me...Natasha.” Stephanie felt the nervous urge to wring her hands, but she kept them at her sides.
Natasha eyed her like she could hear the words left unspoken. “You are very strong, Titanborn. You don’t let these kuu’datto break you. You are very strong and also very beautiful. Yes, I wanted to meet you.”
“Now, I know you’re just yanking my chain,” Stephanie said, letting herself relax a little. “Beautiful is definitely not something to describe me.”
Natasha merely hummed, watching Stephanie closely. “Your eyes are very blue, like the sky, like the ocean. Both open and promising more of life.”
“Oh, um…” Stephanie felt herself blush, and Natasha smirked, dark mouth pulling up sharply. “Thank...you?”
“Plus, we are not so different, you and I,” Natasha continued. “We are both considered outsiders, that we don’t belong. The men here fear us and lash out in hatred because of it. As I said, you are very strong to not let them break you. Very stubborn, too, to not give them up. If it were me, I’d have cut out their hearts by now.
“There’s no reason why you should allow them to hurt you. You came to my aid without question and yet…” Natasha trailed off and shrugged. She turned to keep walking, lifting her hands to the bulk of her curls. Dark fingers slid through the dark hair to pin it all up at the crown of her head.
“I try to be a good soldier,” Stephanie heard herself say, fixated on the nimble movements of Natasha’s hands. “Despite the unit treating me the way they do. Being afraid and attacking me because of it...I do my best, but in a camp full of people, I’ve never felt more alone. I’m not as strong as you think I am.”
“Are you sure about that?” Natasha asked quietly, red gaze focusing on Stephanie once more. “It seems to me that admitting something like that makes you very strong indeed.”
Stephanie searched Natasha’s face and wet her lips nervously before forcing the words out. “You...You’re very beautiful too.”
“Titanborn, I believe you and I are going to get along very, very, nicely,” Natasha said, low and promising. She slid their palms together and heat sang up Stephanie’s arm. “But come. I’ve been waiting for this for too long, Titanborn. I’ve watched you swing that sword like it it’s a twig in a storm. And that shield? Bah! I’ve seen training dummies wield it better.”
“You know,” Stephanie said as she let Natasha lead her towards the armory. “My name isn’t actually Titanborn. It’s Ro-”
“You will always be Titanborn,” Natasha said, cutting her off. She opened a chest near the forge flame and hefted out large weapon.
When she set the heavy, double-headed axe in Stephanie’s hand, they held each other’s gaze for a long moment. If Stephanie believed in such girlish, childhood fantasies, she’d believe that the moon uncovered precisely at the moment to shine down on them with promise.
“Now, let me get you into some armor that actually fits you,” Natasha purred, dragging Stephanie inside.
It certainly felt like a promise.