Chapter IV
The first thing Sable knows is pain. Her whole body aches, burns, like wildfire pouring through her veins and liquid metal piercing her skin.
The second thing is a soft scent. Something sweet and almost floral.
It reminds her of both the wildflower fields of her childhood on the savanna and the small bakery she managed to enter once…
before her father found the village and killed everyone within it.
This is not what she expected Paradisea to look like, so maybe she isn’t dead yet.
All of this is followed by noises. Some she recognizes, most she doesn’t.
Foreign bangs, chitters, pops. No, this certainly isn’t Paradisea.
Amber eyes crack open, finding… a small, stuffed rabbit the likes of which Sable has only seen before in the rooms of Fae children.
She groans, lifting her hand to lay on its head.
Soft, like a real rabbit’s winter fur. Then she notices…
her wounds have been tended. Bandages are on most of her body and she can feel the coolness of some kind of herbal medicine spread on the torn flesh. But by whom?
Breathing in deeply, the sweet scent filling her nose, she carefully pushes herself up on one arm.
Her back still stings like a hundred hornets swarming her, but she can tell well enough that without the medicine sitting on it…
things would be far, far worse. She can only imagine what her skin must look like.
Just as she’s petting the rabbit, she hears a door open and then the sound of a tune being whistled.
She freezes still, listening, preparing.
The door closes, and there is a rustling that follows.
Someone is in here with her. Someone unfamiliar.
Unknown. She listens intently, hearing more rustling along with a series of clicks, then the sounds of cracking, followed by…
the smell of food cooking. Her stomach growls hollowly, but she can’t be distracted.
Who knows who this person may be? A threat sent by her clan?
A sobering thought. Gingerly, Sable sits upright, grimacing from her wounds, and looks for a place to hide…
but there’s the sound of footsteps beginning to approach from the other room, and without another thought, she scrambles to perch herself on top of the wooden dresser at the foot of the bed.
At least she can have enough space from the doorway to attack if need be.
She hears the woman say something in a foreign tongue, but notes her voice is…
warm. Concerned. Strange things to be towards someone she does not know.
Sable senses her near and lets loose a warning growl.
The woman stops dead in the doorway, giving Sable time to take her in.
Light, sparrow brown hair feathers down to her shoulders, framing a pale face with bright, blue-gray eyes, and a soft, curvy, plump body.
She cocks her head at this woman, notes the rounded ears…
human. A human took her in? Wait… She can feel magic that isn’t her own. A human witch, perhaps? Interesting.
Sable didn’t expect her to be beautiful.
The woman has an almost plain face, someone you wouldn’t notice in a crowd, but there is something else about her that draws Sable’s attention.
The freckles covering her nose and cheeks.
The soft downward tilt to her eyes. The pronounced curve of her lips and defined bow. She shakes the errant thought off.
“Can you understand me, human?” Sable asks, quirking one of her dark, thick brows. No understanding comes across the human’s face. Son of a fucking bitch.
~§~
Mariam admires the woman from the doorway.
Her intimidating air, the sharply sculpted features of her face.
She is gorgeous. It appears her nose has been broken multiple times and never set correctly, but even that is not really a flaw.
It just adds to the danger emanating from her.
This is a woman who has known violence many times before.
That’s even more clear to Mariam now than it already was.
Mariam can’t understand the woman when she speaks, but there’s a beautiful lilt to her voice.
Good heavens, this woman is sexy in so many ways…
and seems dangerous in just as many. She has to keep that in mind, too: she is a scared person who just woke up somewhere unfamiliar with a stranger who can’t even speak her language.
Biting her lip, Mariam slowly lowers the breakfast tray to the ground, and those amber eyes burn into her the entire time. She pushes it forward with her fingertips, then takes a cautionary step back as she rises. She points to herself. “Mariam.”
~§~
Sable cocks her head to the side as the woman points to herself and says an unfamiliar word.
Then, she says it again. Mariam. It must be her name.
Her lips twitch in amusement; at least the pretty human is trying to communicate.
Sable relaxes slightly and points to herself.
“Sable.” She says her name twice, and the human nods, smiling brightly.
“Sable,” the human says, followed by more gibberish.
By the Spirits, this is annoying. But then, something occurs to Sable: the human’s scent matches the smell she noticed the moment she woke up, before the human entered.
She sniffs the air to confirm, but yes, for her scent to be this strong here, this must be the human’s home.
And no other scents mingle alongside it…
A human female who lives alone would bring a stranger into her home? She is either daft or incredibly brave.
And for that, she earns some of Sable’s respect. Bravery among females always drew Sable’s attention most.
Cautiously, like the predator she is, Sable unfolds herself from atop the dresser and stands at her full height, with her feet flat on the floor.
She is nearly a head taller than the human, who looks up at her curiously.
The wolf inside of Sable inspects the human just as curiously.
In cases like this, her wolf would normally lash out defensively, but for her…
It just stares at her, analyzing her every move.
Sable turns her attention to the food on the floor.
Bacon, something she has not had in a long while…
The Courts keep their livestock too far inland to get pork often in the Plains.
Scrambled eggs, a common meal in the clan, as they keep geese and chickens.
And… something else. She can smell dairy in it, another luxury she has not seen much of in her life.
The other part… she can’t identify; it just looks like finely ground stones.
Do humans eat stones? She thinks probably not; it resembles porridge, so it might be made from some grain that doesn’t exist in the Fae realm.
Her hunger rages through her stomach as it growls hollowly again. The food looks tantalizing…
She picks up the tray and moves it to the bed, but never lets the woman “Mariam” out of her sight.
. Sable picks up a piece of bacon between her fingers and bites into it.
Her eyes close as the savory, smoky flavor fills her mouth; it’s her first bite of food in over a week, by her estimate.
She shudders at the memory of the beatings, days on end without a break for food or water.
Can’t think about that right now. No, she is still not sure about this human.
Who’s to say she will stay friendly for long?
Sable knows little to nothing of humans.
There were a scant few High Fae who found humans interesting enough to bring them to the Fae realm, but she’d only seen them from a distance.
They look soft and breakable, and to her understanding, their magic is weaker even than that of minor Fae, with many having none at all.
But with Sable’s powers still bound, who’s to say this witch couldn’t kill her?
Mulling over that thought, Sable eyes a metal fork that the woman has included on the tray.
She’s heard they use silver for utensils in the Courts, but this isn’t silver…
Her nose gives her the alarming news that it’s some kind of iron alloy.
A trap? Well, that would be stupid. Then she recalls, vaguely, hearing somewhere that humans have blood made of iron.
She always thought that was a stupid tall tale, but if it’s somehow true, maybe humans aren’t bothered by iron and use it for simple tools?
Either way, Sable is not touching that fucking fork.
And yet, Sable isn’t sure how to eat most of this food without utensils.
Sure, she could use her fingers, but that’d be a mess.
She looks to the human, Mariam, who’s watching her expectantly.
Sable points at the fork, then shakes her head and crosses her arms in front of her in an X.
Mariam cocks her head at her, confusion clear on her features.
“Son of a bitch,” Sable mutters. “It’s iron.
You can’t understand a word I’m saying.”
She points at the fork again, then the spoon. Then she picks up the plate of eggs and pantomimes spooning it into her mouth.
The human mutters something in confusion…
then realization seems to strike her. “Oh!” she exclaims, then darts out of the room.
Sable stares after her, a little bewildered by the sudden storm of movement.
She leans towards the doorway until she can see down the hallway, where the human is soon returning with utensils in her hand made of…
glass? The human returns to the room and cautiously approaches Sable, holding the utensils out by their long stem.
Sable eyes her warily, but allows the approach, and takes the utensils, another fork and spoon.
She examines them for a moment. They’re not actually glass; they’re made of a soft resin-like material that bends slightly in her hands… Brittle, apparently, because she accidentally snaps the fork in half.