Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Little Slave Girl ❯ Mending The Heart ( Chapter 3 )

Panting and shoving her golden hair behind one ear, one of her feather accents blowing against her pointed ear, Ryven parried another attack by her adopted father. They had been sparring like this for at least a good four hours now.

Ryven felt glad to be back on solid ground where she could feel the grass under her feet and the sense the things which moved about beneath.

"Attack more, Seito," Piccolo growled at her, though not in anger, he was always trying to make her strive to be better, always trying to get her to take another step forward.

Perhaps his methods were less harsh than they were when she was little, having her around as child as well as when Gohan had been little and under his care, had tempered him somewhat, gave him a small bit of patience with others, "Hai! Yes! That is better!"

Ryven smiled through the dirt which grimed her face, but did not allow him to take the advantage. She struck out with a fast combo upper and lower kick and spin then a series of punches, driving him backwards as he blocked her offensive. "Good! Much better, Young One…"

** She is still uncomfortable attacking you though **

** She doesn't want to hurt him, fool, ** Nail's voice countered, ** She loves him too much…**

** Baka! It's not that, she's afraid of doing bad and having him be ashamed of her…**

** Be silent! ** Piccolo raged at them, ** She is doing better and I could never be ashamed of her, so put that thought to rest, the both of you! **

Rowyn, having been carried down from the tower by Piccolo just that morning, rested with her back against a tree, watched the duel with unblinking eyes.

Her admiration for the light-haired elf grew by leaps and bounds the more she observed and talked with her. She'd never met anyone quite like her before.

All the other elves she had contact with after her capture had all been too broken by their captors to have even a small spark of life left within them. They had given up on ever escaping and had reconciled themselves to their fate. Not a one of them, herself included, would have ever even considered fighting back.

She knew she was of a different race of elves than Ryven though, she knew that the moment she got close enough to the older elf, close enough that she could smell the strong scent of wolf upon her leathers and skin.

That had frightened her a bit, but most things which were new to her frightened her, but Ryven had called her wolf-companion to her almost as soon as they had stepped onto the hard earth and Ryven had introduced the two to each other.

The powerful white wolf, Snowblind, had approached her warily, sniffing at her with caution. Instant bade her to hold out her hand, palm upwards, fist closed in a gesture of non-harm for the animal to come and sniff. A few quick licks upon Rowyn's cheek and a wag of his bushy tail let the girl know that she was accepted.

Now, the wolf lay a few feet from her, watching his bonded as she practiced her fighting moves and watched the new one from the corner of his eyes. The wolf could send, but only indistinct, emotion-driven image-words that held his beast-mind behind them, difficult for one who had never touched minds with an animal of any sort to convey.

Ryven and Snowblind had been bonded so long now that they hardly needed to speak mind-to-mind anymore to express to the other their wants and desires. Snowblind just semed to know, automatically, exactly what Ryven wanted or was feeling and Ryven was the same towards the wolf.

Her hands felt empty and useless, Rowyn looked down at them, she had always had something in them to occupy herself when she'd been just a little slave girl. She picked at the grass between her legs on the ground and absently began to plait the long green strands into braids.

Her fingers quested of their our accord, seeking out longer, stronger strands and more of them. Soon, her eyes had left the two fighters completely to concentrate on her task.

Snowblind looked up from his paws momentarily to see what she was up to and then laid his big shaggy head back down and closed his eyes for a wolf-nap after he saw that she was up to nothing dangerous to either himself or his bond and her adopted father.

Rowyn nearly forgot he was there as her fingers worked swiftly at the grass and braids of grass she was busily entwining together.

"What are you doing, Rowyn?" Ryven asked, suddenly standing in front of her, wiping her face on her a towel Piccolo had materialized for her. He was standing a few feet away, eyes closed, gathering himself. A glass of water appeared in his hand and drank is slowly.

Ryven had noticed Rowyn pulling up the grass around her and braiding it together as her and Piccolo's sparring died down, and wondered what the other elf was up to. Now, she stood before her and waited for an answer.

Rowyn pulled something from behind her which her body had been blocking from Ryven's sight and held it out to the other elf. "This is for you, Ryven…"

Ryven looked at the beautifully braided green length of grass tightly woven into a thick belt about as wide as her one hand lay flat and the a little longer than the width around of her waist.

Rowyn had somehow entwinted little sparkling pebbles and pieces of what looked like colored glass that she had found on the ground as she worked, within the structure in a pretty pattern. The entire thing was just breathtaking.

She smiled and held up, the sparkle-rocks and glass shone in the sun's fading light.

Rowyn looked up hopefully. She chewed her bottom lip in anticipation. She was afraid that Ryven would laugh at her and throw the carefully crafted grass belt back in her face. But her heart told her that she was being foolish. Ryven wasn't like that. She wouldn't hurt on purpose the way…

She shook her head, she refused to dwell on thoughts of the past on such a beautiful twilit moment. She merely awaited Ryven's response to her unexpected gift.

"It's wonderful…" Ryven said, "Such skill! How could you have made this in just a few short hours…?"

Rowyn flushed with pleasure as she watched Ryven secure the belt about her waist just below her normal, leathern one.

It was a bit large for her, one end trailed to just below her stomach, but otherwise it looked like it were made just for her, which, of course, it had been.

"I love it, Rowyn." She smiled, with her eyes as well as her mouth, "domo arigato…thank you!"

Rowyn blushed further and looked down, not comfortable enough, just yet, to dare to meet the eyes of one she still considered, in her heart of hearts, one of higher standard than herself. She was just glad that Ryven had liked her gift enough to don it straight away.

"Hmm…" Piccolo said, behind Ryven, looking at the belt the other girl had crafted, "I can see all ready that your strengths do not lie in the art of fighting, Little One,"

Ryven and Rowyn both turned to him, waitng. Piccolo went on. "Perhaps a place for you can be found in the Son household, Chi Chi might be able to use your quick hands and agile ways around the house."

** What are you doing? ** Nail asked, ** That poor girl! Chi Chi will eat her alive! **

** Yes! How cruel can you be to the poor thing? **

Anyone with half a brain can sense that she'd be more comfortable in an environment she's grown used to and after observing her for these last few days I can see that helping to run a household would suit her more than being trained as a fighter.

Some of us just are not meant to be warriors. Piccolo thought as he saw Rowyn's quivering smile of hope.

She, herself, had just about gone crazy for lack of things to do with herself and after cleaning The Lookout from top to bottom three times she'd finally run out of things to occupy herself.

It was true that some aspects of being a slave she still longed for, only because they were all she knew and felt secure within that familiarity, such as cooking and cleaning and creating craftworks for others.

It had been nice when her masters had found less reason to kick and beat her and more to smile grudgingly upon her for her efforts. If only I had listened more when she tried to teach me that new way of sewing…She thought, recalling her last encounter with her masters, her last beating. She'd crawled out of the house that night, afterwards, hours later, with no thought save that she wanted to die and live at the same time…she just wanted to get away…

"Rowyn?" Ryven asked, concerned, "Are you…all right?"

Rowyn's face softened once more, her eyes cleared and she stumbled; "…Genki desui…I'm fine…"

She's not fine, Ryven thought, as she watched the younger elf, And won't be for a very long time. I've seen such pain before…in my own eyes reflected back at me from still pools or mirrors…

** This one will need some gentle coaxing ** Piccolo's voice was soft in it's normal gruffness within her mind, ** Towards discovering self and healing…**

** I will help her. ** Ryven said, almost as if the decision had been at the back of her mind all this time, being chewed upon as a wolf worried an old bone, just waiting for it to be confirmed, ** All I can. **

** I know you will, Seito.** Piccolo sent, pride for his daughter swelling his heart, ** You've all ready begun.**

Snowblind yipped and wagged his tail at them, having all ready come to his feet, he slaughtered over to Ryven and butted his head beneath her hand so that she had no choice but to scratch his ears for him, which he loved, of course.

Rowyn laughed at this and for a moment the flickering fear and pain, which was always behind her features, left her dark eyes.