As Silver as the Stars [Menel & Javed]

Menel couldn't help but laugh. He wouldn't have minded the opportunity to do this again, but certainly not tonight. Unlike Javed he had more work to do tonight, he'd get little rest ensuring that the camp was safe while everyone slept. Not that he could regret this dance for a moment. He needed to practice to keep his skills sharp and Javed had taught him a thing or two that certainly could come in handy.

Javed moved away from him, waving to the people which was when Menel really realized that there was an audience. He'd known in the back of his mind that there was, but it hadn't been important. He hadn't thought about it until this moment. He wasn't really used to so many people watching him.

The swordsman ran a hand over his forearm and walked over to his pack to pick up a pair of cloths. He offered one to Javed first, after all; he wasn't the one with paint running down his face. "You really are very talented." He rubbed the other cloth over an arm. "Have you ever danced professionally?"

Accepting the scrap of cloth and rubbing at his face vigorously Javed thought about how best to answer that question. Once he felt like most of the paint was gone or at least faded he worked on the back of his neck and frowned, nodding once more to the people who were finally starting to head to sleep. Javed suspected he'd be joining them soon enough.

"Professionally? As in was I ever payed to dance? Not as such." He wrinkled his brow for a moment as if trying to decide how much he should say to Menel.

"I danced to entertain my loved ones when I was a child, and I suppose I never did grow out of it." The reasoning just became a little twisted with age. He rolled his shoulders and began to walk slowly towards his discarded bones, leaning over to capture the abandoned scarf along the way. "This is the first time I've danced like that in front of people I didn't know to at least some extent." He admitted. The skull and jaw bone remained where he had discarded them, white red and yellow shadows at his feet.

"You're quite good. If the sell-sword jobs dry up I suspect you would have no trouble earning your meals with your feet." He chuckled softly at the thought of Menel as a traveling dancer.

It was almost a shame to think that Javed had never done something he was obviously so talented at professionally. Though he supposed that dancing could be in a lot of ways more personal than fighting was. Especially if one did it for their family. Menel couldn't help feeling a small twinge of nostalgia. He hadn't had much of a family himself, but he'd had enough to miss it. He distracted himself by following Javed's lead, picking up his vest. The swordsman didn't bother to put it on though. Instead he ran the cloth over his chest. He'd rather not put on leather over sweat.

"I have to say, it was the first time I've ever danced with an audience like that." He glanced toward the dispersing people. He'd danced in front of crowds yes, but never with so many people watching him specifically.

Javed's words made him laugh a little. "I'll keep that in mind." His fingers paused over his stomach and he flashed his smile at Javed. "I have to admit it really is a fantastic workout. I haven't pushed myself that far in quite some time."

Stooping to collect his precious armor had Javed's back and thigh muscles screaming at him in protest.   "Neither have I, which is why I am going to regret the whole event in the morning when my legs no longer work." He sighed ruefully and straightened back up, raising an eyebrow at the other man. He probably had more work tonight, while Javed could sleep and not expect to be roused unless there was some kind of emergency. And yet he was the one who had been pushing and pushing the guard.

Javed had the decency to flush with a twinge of guilt.  "I ah, I probably shouldn't have given you such a strenuous work out, with the rest of the night ahead of you." Scraping his teeth against his bottom lip Javed raised a hand, fingers extended in offering.  "If you'd like I could give you some relief...?" There was no reason to suddenly be embarrassed but there it was.

It may have been Menel's idea to dance away their demons but Javed had been the one to make it a challenge, wanting the numbness full body exhaustion brings. He had some reserves of light now, slowly replenishing from the earlier nightmare (and had it really been only a scant hour or so? Time had shifted oddly when the drums had been beating.) but still more empty than full. He could only hope there would be no great disasters tonight.

Really he couldn't help but chuckle a little more. He was probably going to be feeling this when he woke up in the morning himself, but it wasn't really anything he wasn't used to. The swordsman did feel a touch guilty though. If he hadn't pushed back quite so hard maybe Javed wouldn't be quite so tired now, but he couldn't really regret it. They'd both enjoyed it, and that was worth more to the swordsman than a few sore muscles.

"I don't mind really." He smiled at Javed and threw the cloth over his shoulder. The swordsman started putting his armor back on, pulling the cloth off before he zipped it back up with a single practiced movement. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm not that tired."

He would be by the nights end of course. The swordsman's smile widened for a brief moment. "Save your magic for someone who needs it more than I Javed. Like yourself."

Menel balled up the cloth in his hand. It seemed as though he was about to say something else but he turned his head. "Did you hear that?" Menel's gaze was toward the dark horizon. He could hear a sound. Like hooves. The swordsman took several steps in that direction before he realized that the shadows moving in that direction were in fact horses. He cursed lightly under his breath and unsheathed his swords. Blue eyes flashed toward Javed.

"If you can round everyone up, get them moving away. There's got to be at least half a dozen and I can't protect this large a group against that many if they're all spread out." Menel dropped the cloth in his hand; already drawing his swords. He didn't have time to see if Javed would listen to him. As quick as his feet could carry him he ran toward the incoming horsemen, yelling at everyone he passed to make quickly for the lead caravan trailer.

The horses were closing fast, and Menel hit the first one coming in. The rider tried to hit him, but the swordsman ducked and his sword cut through horseflesh. He felt badly for the creature which folded forward and screamed, throwing it's rider hard to the ground too. The man screamed himself, likely breaking something but Menel didn't have time to worry about him to much. If he was screaming he was alive, and that was all that mattered. That and that he was likely out of commission. A throw that hard was sure to break something and a man with a broken arm, or a dislocated shoulder... wasn't much of a threat.

He had at least five others to occupy him. If he was lucky.

He had been on the verge of arguing with Menel, reminding him that Javed was the healer and that he'd given his word to keep the people here healthy until he had reached his destination. In fact he had taken a breath in order to say those exact words when the swordsman's next comment gave him pause, hands just finished reattaching his helm around his gilded hair.

"Did you hear that?"

The sudden shift from companionable ease to trained warrior made Javed stiffen, head cocked to the side in the vain hope he could catch what Menel was listening for.   "I don't," He began and then paused because there it was. A drumming sound that had nothing to do with their earlier activities. Horses.

He could feel time shift around him and then he had turned on his heel, fingers pressed to his lips and a sharp whistle piercing the night air before he was off at a run, people that Menel had already warned behind him.  "Raiders!" He cried, and gestured for them to come together. Spread out they would each have a better chance to escape but that also left them at the mercies of the wilds and anything else that might be residing and hoping for a taste of flesh. They would have to rely on Menel's skill. But that didn't mean he had to fight alone.

There was a young elven family, two children caught between one mother's arms as the other steeled herself and peeled away to help herd stragglers together. Javed was grateful for her stepping in because it gave him the time he needed to slip to the wagon his possessions had been discarded in. He could hear the sounds of yelling, a horse screaming into the night and the thud of something heavy meeting earth. Javed pushed those sounds out of his head and scrambled blindly in the dark until his hand touched something cool and hard.

With a triumphant sound he wrapped his fingers around his staff, the black wood smooth and unyielding in his grip. there was a dagger still strapped next to his travel belt so he discarded any thought of rifling through his bags for more weaponry. Time was not going to wait for him, nor were the bandits. The thought burned brightly in his mind as he ran back towards the knot of people. The elven woman had a sword in her hand now, muscles standing out in sharp relief as she watched the darkness for enemies to appear. Several others were holding weapons, and Javed breathed a sigh of relief. They would not be helpless. And Javed would not leave them defenseless either.

The head of the great cat pulled down, and it's jaw snapped up and locked in place by a concealed hinge shielded the healer's face, the second skull on his shoulder rattling as he willed his tired muscles to relax. To breathe. He allowed himself the tiniest healing, something to chase the exhaustion away. He would have to hope it would leave him with enough magic to heal if need be.

And that was the last thought in his head before he heard screaming and whirled to see a human on horseback barreling down on them. Instinct took over and the staff in his hands came alive. The amber dotting the ends bursting with light.

It was quite natural for them to work together. To try to take advantage of when Menel was apparently paying more attention to one of them than the others, but the swordsman was never unaware of any of them. Every opening that they thought they saw was one that he himself had created. That he controlled.

The sword-wielding bandit almost managed to land a hit, but Menel's armor deflected the blade shy of his skin. Which was when light suddenly blossomed. Everyone hesitated for a second; even Menel. The swordsman wasn't sure where the light had come from, but when it didn't attack he didn't question it. Instead he moved forward kicking the startled sword-wielding bandit  in a rather delicate place and then elbowing him in the back of the head when he started to fold over. The man went down like a ton of bricks.

Menel could hear the mace hitting against the light, but he was already moving forward. It was easy to see what was happening now. At least until the shield faded. The largest bandit swung wildly at him and Menel ducked, blade cutting along the other man's ribs. A shallow wound but one that would burn and pain the large man.

He heard scuffing behind him and nimbly danced around the large man he'd just cut. The mace-welding bandit didn't stop, following him. Blows traded in rounds. The tempo discordant because the large man attacked randomly where he could around the mace-wielding bandit. It prevented him from adding much to the damage that either had taken, and he really couldn't keep this up to long. He needed to get back to the rest of the caravan, and his body had already been pushed quite far.

The swordsman hadn't really expected to push it again so soon.

Menel's expression tightened, and suddenly he pressed the attack, swords flashing like a rain of lightning on the man who wielded a mace against him. The man's eyes went wide and he simply couldn't keep up. A moment later the mace slid from numb unfeeling fingers because Menel's blade had cut his thumb nearly to ribbons. The man bit back his pain and swung unsteadily at Menel. Though he easily evaded the hit, another landed on his shoulder from the large man who had waited for an opportunity to strike.

Pain exploded through Menel's shoulder and back. Stubbornly he let the void in his mind swallow it, fingers clenching numbly around his blade. He could hardly feel the weapon but he refused to drop it. Brutally he back-handed the bandit who was trying to sneak up on him and the man finally went down. Likely he would never wield a weapon in that hand again, and his nose... Menel looked up at the large man who remained and lit his blades with cool blue flames.

"Run now, just go and I will not chase you." His voice was cold, methodical. As human in tone as the hum that sang along the edge of his blades. The large man grinned at him, and rushed him.

Once more Menel didn't hesitate. His right side was slow, but it moved. He felt one of the spikes on the club scratch his arm, but he was inside. Inside the other's guard and stabbing his blade into the man's stomach. Just there.

Hands wrapped around him, squeezing tightly. Screaming filled his ears and it wasn't his own. It was the sound of the man who was trying to break his bones with brute strength. The blade twisted in his hand and the scream deepened to a feral roar. He could feel his bones rubbing, and to his shock the larger man suddenly bit him. Tearing into Menel's neck like some kind of savage animal.

Menel screamed too, blade pulling upwards. He could feel blood on his skin. On his hands and his neck. The heat of fire flickering so close. The smell... His left-handed blade twisted in his fingers, the fire warming his skin and that of the man holding him. Menel's vision swimming as he shoved his blade upwards, underneath the larger man's armpit. The grip loosened around him, but Menel was only partially conscious of it.

He staggered, or rather the man holding him staggered, teeth no longer bearing down. If he'd bitten the other side... Menel might have bled out by now. The swordsman chuckled.

He heard the body hit the ground but he was still standing. The fire on his blades flickering out. Standing there looking down glassy-eyed. Still breathing. Both of them still alive. Menel blinked. Good.

If Javed could heal the bandit soon... well Menel's blade had cauterized the wound... It might not even get infected. He chuckled again, turning toward the caravan.

It was the screaming that alerted him that Menel was at least still fighting. Javed was torn between taking care of the people here and making sure that the swordsman was going to survive the attack that had thrown everything into chaos. A broken foot, two dislocated shoulders and a concussion were not things that would end lives but this is what Javed had promised when he had approached the caravan. He would heal them if they fed him and kept him along for the trek. So he grit his teeth as each sound of metal meeting metal and the harsh shouts made him jump. Pressed the healing light out between his hands and felt each spell pull more and more life out of him.

And then he blinked and there was no one left that needed him. The concussed child was being held by their parent and he vaguely remembered to remind them not to let the little one sleep yet. Then he pulled himself upright with the help of his staff and stumbled over to where he had last seen the warrior.

There he was, covered in blood that seemed to be a mix of his and the bodies littered around him like fallen leaves. Javed only spared a moments thought that they all seemed to be alive if not well before one of his hand caught on the side of Menel's vest and turned him so they faced one another.

"Lavate's breath, guardsman. You're a mess." He knew the joke fell flat but flashed a tired smile anyways, pulling a tiny thread of light up to the hand not currently grasping his staff as he reached to inspect the ruins of Menel's neck. The healer snarled a little at the gore, but seemingly uncaring as the mess got all over his hand. He could hear the bandit closest to them breathing in shallow gasps but the darker part of Javed couldn't bring himself to worry for the man's life. One knew the risks of attacking a large group in the wilds of Vida.

It was almost like he didn't see Javed until the other man was suddenly there. He felt fingers on his vest and his muscles jumped to attention that his mind wasn't ready for. Taunt fingers grasped Javed's arm, ready to shove the other man back but... It was Javed so instead the tension slid away and he allowed himself to use the other man to hold himself up. Now that the fighting was over he felt unreasonably exhausted. Dozens of tiny cuts and bruises he didn't even remember acquiring ached but... he was still alive. The bandits were alive, and if Javed was at his side he could only imagine that the members of the caravan were intact.

His breathing was ragged and uneven, but when Javed cursed he couldn't help but grin. His neck ached with particular ferocity, and it was possibly the worst injury he had. It was a tough call between the unsightly tearing and his dislocated shoulder. "I'm still alive though." He found himself chuckling again, fingers tightening on the other man's arm. His blue eyes flickering away from Javed but everything else was to far away for him to focus on for long so he returned to those copper eyes quickly.

"Everyone is alright? We'll have to get them moving. It's not safe to stay here... in case there's a second wave. Can you heal the bandit's I injured? I... I think I hurt the last one pretty badly." He talked, keeping himself awake and alert by forcing his mind to think about what he needed to do next. Menel started to pat Javed on the shoulder but realized that he was still holding on and tried to stand on his own two feet. It was more difficult than he would have liked it to be. "Where's Maman?"

He wished he could just flick his hand over the torn flesh of Menel's neck and cause it all to knit back together without a thought. But Javed was almost completely spent. So he focused, ignoring the swordsman's swaying and his weak comeback to Javed's joke. The healer felt the pulling of his magic, like a roll of yarn reaching it's end and unraveling with deliberate slowness. He couldn't waste the power to numb as he reconnected ruined muscles and slowed bleeding and hoped Menel would survive the pain as he carefully brought the skin together again. The skin was red and tender to the touch but Javed was fairly certain he'd gotten all the infection out. Mouths were terribly filthy things.

When that was done he blinked tiredly at Menel's questions, glancing down at the bandit that had been gasping at their feet. He furrowed his brow behind his mask and allowed him to rest against the other man, keeping each other upright while he inspected this possible patient.

"Maman?" Javed tried to rub his forehead but grimaced when he encountered only bone shielding his head. Without a care for the blood he left streaking down it he dropped his hand and shrugged.  "He was helping keep everyone under control and tying up that bandit I knocked down last I looked." With a grunt he levered himself off of Menel and managed to crouch without too much wobbling. The bandit in front of him was prone, and Javed could see where Menel's sword had entered and exited. Once through the gut and once up through the shoulder.

He winced and tried to call back his magic, trembling a little for the effort. He was going to be tapped out after this. The blades had cauterized the wounds as they left the body but hopefully they hadn't burned the man up inside too much. He pressed his hand against the man's torso and focused, trying to ignore how much his body was throbbing from the exhaustion and his depleted resources.

"Why do you want to save him so badly?" He asked callously, the answer almost immediately supplied by his jumbled brain. Menel's fortune, Menel sobbing over the fact he might kill. Javed let out a gusting sigh and shook his head.  "Nevermind. I don't know if I can repair all of this. Not right now." With what felt like physical effort Javed funneled as much of his magic into the body under his hands as he could. Willing the body to repair itself, to keep it from going septic.

When his light ran out it was a trickling sensation and he almost fell over. He felt chilled and empty, staring at his shadowed hand covered in gore but dark. There wasn't enough magic left in him to call even a wisp of light to his hand. With a grunt he attempted to stand, stumbling backwards but managing to remain vertical.  "I can't do any more for him. If he makes it though the night I can repair what's left but we'd have to bring him along." Using his forgotten staff as leverage Javed looked over at Menel.  "The same for you. I fixed the worst of your problems but you've got cracked ribs I'm sure." Javed leaned on the wood, head resting against it for a moment.  "I can fix your shoulder though. Just... give me a moment to get some strength back."

He was silent as he breathed, willing his arms and legs to stop shivering with exhaustion. Between the fortune reading, dancing, and now this attack Javed was spent. And he was sure Menel was too. The two of them would be regretting this with the dawn. But for now...

Javed sighed and straightened, handing Menel his staff and reaching for the swordsman's prone arm.  "Deep breath now," he warned before sliding his other hand to the shoulder socket and as fast as he could, jerking the arm up and back into place. The audible sound had him wincing. But it was done, and now at least Menel would have his mobility back. Whatever good that would be when they were both wobbling like newborn fawns.

Rather than answering his question right away Menel felt a little flicker of warmth inside his body that was familiar to him; Javed's magic. Immediately he started to protest, he didn't need healing, not really. He'd rather if Javed saved what magical strength he had for those that were more seriously injured. Whatever words he might have said to dissuade Javed from healing him died on his lips however as his flesh began to painfully knit itself together. People underestimated how painful it was for flesh to stretch and grow, crawling together to form new bonds. His neck ached and he suppressed both a surprised noise and a low groan by clenching his fist and locking his jaw.

When the magic passed a moment later the flesh was whole once more. He couldn't see how pink it was, but he could feel how tender it was. Sensitive like the skin that stretched over a scar, but he doubted that he would have a scar at all now. He let out a low breath, eyes refocusing. The pain had cleared his mind a bit, enough to notice how tired Javed was. How the other man was leaning on him as much as he was leaning on Javed.

He felt guilty for asking Javed to do anything, but it was worth Javed's tiredness if the men survived. The swordsman nodded. Maman knew what to do, the man was an old hand at running a caravan and Menel had worked with him before. He could trust that the caravan leader would get everyone rounded up.

Why did he want to save the bandits? Javed shook his head and said to never mind but Menel watched Javed heal the bandit with half-bated breath. "If you can just heal him a little... it should be enough..." Just let it be enough. Javed pulled away, obviously drained. His tanned hands covered in blood, just like Menel's were. Menel realized abruptly that he had cleaned and sheathed his swords without even realizing that he had done so. Some things were so second nature that they didn't need his mind to happen.

"Thank you. I'll tie him up and throw him in one of the emptier wagons." Just saying it made his bones ache but he'd do it. He'd tie them all up. Drag every one of them to the wagons. It was safest for the caravan too. That way the bandit's wouldn't regroup and come after them later. "I'll be alright really."

He started to wave Javed off, worried that the other man would try using more magic when it was clear how drained he was, but Javed pushed his staff into Menel's hand and the swordsman realized that Javed meant a more mundane method for fixing his shoulder. The swordsman paled slightly, gripping the staff with his good arm and planting his boots firmly into the ground. He took a deep breath like Javed told him to and then...

Stars flashed in front of Menel's eyes and this time the swordsman did make a sharp pained sound, groaning until his vision cleared. The sensation radiated all the way down his arm but he could feel his fingers properly again. He took a few shallow breaths, ignoring the nausea that rolled through his stomach and nodding to Javed gratefully. "Thank you." He seemed to be saying that a lot. He lifted that arm, that hand and wrapped his arm around Javed's shoulders. "Come on, I'll give you a hand to the wagons. They'll be moving out soon and you look like you could use a rest."

Menel smiled, trying to offer the other man a little support though he had little enough to offer. "Thank you Javed. I know I said it, but... Thank you for healing him."

Javed gave up the pretense of well being and let himself lean into Menel as the white haired man helped bring him back towards the others.  "Yes yes, I know. I'm wonderful." he chuckled tiredly and brought an arm around Menel's back to help the swordsman keep his balance. Long fingers careful for the damage he has sustained that the healer couldn't fix tonight. The two bruised and exhausted men started back towards the caravan's inner ring.  "I believe now you owe me for the reading and all the healing I've done for you, guardsman." he flashed Menel a grin though his mask. There was no heat in his words, only a gentle teasing.

"Though I suppose you protecting our hides is payment enough, mmm?"

Maman was indeed with the rest of the travelers, the rider Javed had unseated bound and gagged. He would have a crooked nose from now on but the blond really couldn't bring himself to be worried. Instead he gestured weakly with his staff towards where the other men were layed out. "If some of you strapping young people could be so kind as to help the rest of those men get dressed up as well as this one, I think the evening has been spent." Javed managed to wobble free of Menel with one last pat to the warrior's back. When the female elf from earlier stalked off with a coil of rope and her sword at her side Javed nodded to her once before stopping in front of Maman.

"Unless you need some stitching done tonight, Master Maman, I need to rest. I haven't a drop of magic left in me. Come tomorrow I'll do some more healing though. Fix everyone up ship shape."

He didn't mind Javed's extra weight. If anything it seemed to offer him further stability, and though their progress was slow, it was steady. Most of his body ached in one way or another, but it was tolerable. Javed's words made him smile and flush a little bit. He had in fact actually forgotten about that in the rush of everything. First the dancing, and then the combat. Not that he wouldn't have remembered on his own eventually of course. "No no, your quite right I owe you."

Menel made a small amused noise. "After all, I was just doing my job."

Maman seemed happy to see them, and Javed let him stand under his own power again. Menel kept an eye on him a bit, worried at how tired Javed seemed. His suggestion to have a few people bind the bandits was met with nods and action, particularly when Menel endorsed the idea. "I agree entirely, get them bound and thrown in one of the extra carts, then we need to head out. I scouted a hill about a mile from here to the north east."

The caravan leader nodded motioning for someone to do what Menel and Javed had suggested. "I have already had the horses readied." The older man nodded to Javed. "You are welcome to go to my wagon, there is a space behind the seat where you can find some rest while the caravan moves out. You are welcome to it if you like. No one will bother you unless there is an emergency."

Maman hesitated a moment then moved forward, offering Javed his hand. "The boy you healed earlier is my nephew. We are all of us glad that you were here." The man turned, his attention returning to Menel. "I assume you can show us the way to the new location?"

Menel nodded. "Of course. I will take one of the spare horses and lead you out."

The older man nodded. "I will have someone bring one right away." Maman wandered off, talking to members of his caravan, taking care of everything quickly and efficiantly. Menel flashed Javed a smile and a brief wave. He would have to pay the other man in the morning. For now Javed needed rest and he... "Menel, here is the horse you requested. Everyone is packed up and ready to go."

The swordsman nodded and took the horse, mounting in a smooth motion. For now he had work to do.

Javed clasped Maman's hand and inclined his head before pulling back and resting his weight on his staff once more. "I do what I can, I'm glad he's on the mend, yes?" Maman's sudden generosity was a little off-putting to the healer. Just a few hours ago they had all been cautious around him. And now?  "I do believe I'll take you up on that offer, my good man." If he hadn't been so completely drained in both body and spirit Javed might have fought to stay awake and mobile. But right now they could have dumped him across the saddle of one of the horses and he would have slept like a babe. At least that was how he felt.

So instead he reached out and patted Menel's shoulder with his free hand before fixing the swordsman with a stern look. "Watch your ribs and arm, my friend. And try not to get into any more dances until I'm up and running again." He smiled and shook his head as people stumbled off, horses calling to each other as they were readied to move out. Javed didn't even spare a thought to how much extra work all these tires people would have to do until they were all safe again. Instead he made his way to where his traveling kit was stored, grabbing it and looking around for the wagon that must be Maman's.

"Sir healer, over here." A young voice called him, and Javed turned to see Maman's nephew, looking at him from the front of a large wagon. "My uncle said you'd be around. Said we should let you rest after all the good you did..." The youth trailed off, biting his lip with apprehension. Sighing, Javed made his way over and handed up his bags before reaching and pulling himself up and into the wagon.

It wasn't a graceful landing, but the child didn't laugh at him so Javed supposed it was a win. "Ah, good lad. Er... Well I suppose I'll just rest. You keep doing what it is you do...?" Children made Javed uncomfortable, and his stilted language showed that fact. The youth didn't seem to mind much, just blushing and pointing to a bedroll that had obviously been set up for Maman himself to sleep on. With a grateful sigh he sunk down in the leader's place, skull helm once more removed. The nephew seemed more comfortable after that, and Javed spared a thought that maybe animal bones weren't good for bedside manner.

The belt that ran over his chest was also discarded, and with his staff within easy reach Javed relaxed and almost instantly fell into the sleep of the exhausted. What he dreamed that night will have to wait for another tale.