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She wondered about that. But it was a distraction. She didn't need to know, because she wasn't going to be in this camp to find out, and neither was he. So it didn't matter one bit, did it?
"So you'll take me away from here, now?"
She didn't wait for an answer. In the back of her mind she'd been preparing this since he'd left, since before he'd even arrived, just in case, and now she was going to make her case god damn it.
"I just—I'm just a woman, a forest witch. Nothing like what's in the stories. I don't do magic, I don't even brew potions. I make herbal teas and use the smoke from burned herbs for some helpful effects. Nothing as extreme as turning someone into a toad.
"I don't have any magical powers, so I shouldn't even be here. And what's more, I don't even live in Malbeck so I shouldn't have even been there. I should still be living in my little cottage. And I met you so I'm happy I got something out of it, but I just want my simple life back.
"If I were to go on my own, I'd be dead before morning. I'd be attacked by men on the roads who would see a woman, unprotected and alone, and all I have's one little knife. I could take one, maybe two of them with me, then they'd just hold me down, and—"
She made a rude motion with her finger and an ironic expression, her breathing coming hard. She had more, but it had been so much less tiring in her head.
"And I just—I can't get home without you, and I just want to go home. Please take me home. Please?"
Gunnar's face had sunk through the entire speech, and she knew that she'd upset him, though she hoped it was more than anything because he felt bad. She waited for him to answer, but for a long time he didn't.
He got up and stretched, then came back and undid the ties that kept her hands together. They were too hard to get off with only one hand, and she absolutely couldn't re-tie them herself. Not even a pretty close facsimile.
Deirdre rubbed her wrists. They were rubbed raw, and she just wanted to be free of it.
Then he stopped and stood, his back to her, and he looked up at the stars. She wanted to know what he was thinking, but he was clearly keeping his thoughts to himself. He'd speak when he was ready, she knew that. And untying her had tipped his hand a little bit.
But that didn't change her impatience and the fact that he could change his mind, any time. She needed to hear it from his lips, needed to go. She needed to be away from here.
Please, Gunnar, just go with me right now. It doesn't matter how late it is, we can make it a few hours before either of us need to sleep.
Deirdre took a breath. Focus. Regardless what he says next, you'll have to deal with it, and you'll live, she told herself. Gunnar's back, and that means you've got a player in the game again.
Gunnar's voice broke through the wall of her thoughts.
"Yes."
The emotions that surged through Deirdre shouldn't have surprised her, but they did. She was going to get away. Going to be free. He'd promised it, all that time ago. Weeks. And then that had turned out to be wrong.
Now here he was again, telling her that he would take her away. She should have been so many other things. Happy, or angry that he hadn't let her go sooner. Or excited. She felt… numb. Tired.
She could already feel tears welling up in her eyes, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up into a little ball, but she had worked to break herself of that when she was still little. She'd thought that she was done crying after she'd been given to the witch.
But that hadn't been the end of it. Then she'd cried over so many different things, but she could understand them, at least. So why was she crying now? She got what she wanted, and she just—
She found herself leaning into Gunnar without realizing that she'd started to, her head pressed into the oddly comforting space between his shoulder and neck, sobs racking her body and tears streaming down her face.
She needed to get ahold of herself—needed to figure out what to do. Needed to figure the route back home. They needed to get moving. But instead she just stood there and cried. The only thing that broke her out of her reverie was the feeling of Gunnar's arm, wrapping around her.
She almost didn't realize what she was doing until her lips were already on his. When she pulled away for breath and then pulled him in for a deeper kiss, she had already decided what she was going to do next.
Gunnar let her kiss him. He wasn't sure what was going on in her mind, but clearly it was upsetting her a lot. Then she kissed him again. This time he kissed her back, the worries of what he was going to do next slowly retreating.
He replaced them with the feel of her warm body pressed against him, contrasted against the cold of the night. He felt himself stirring in his pants, but he held himself off. She needed whatever she was going to need, but he'd let her take the pace.
Her lips left his, both of them breathless, and then she pulled his head into the crook of her neck. He planted a firm kiss, letting his teeth scrape lightly across her skin and enjoying the soft mewling sound she made at the sensation.
He wrapped his arms tighter, pulling her into him, wanting to feel every inch of her pressed up against him. Wanting to explore with his hands. The tiny whispers of dou
bt and uncertainty kept his hands from cupping her ass and testing its firmness.
She seemed to be under no such compunction, running her hands across his body and up his shirt, her fingers dancing across his muscles, tracing a light, tickling line. She pinched his nipple softly, sending a spark of mixed pain and pleasure.
