The Force of Destiny, Chapter 19
Original Post
Rating: PG-13
Pairings/characters: Carter/Sakina (OC)
Word count: 2026
Spoilers: While this alters the end of S2, there are still minor spoilers for the whole run of the show, including S3.
Summary: Sakina and Carter are rained in at the new camp.
Disclaimer: Had I money, influence or rights, things would've gone muuuuch differently. However, the lovely folks at the BBC and TA have all of those.
previous chapter
-19-
"What's that flower you're putting in with the straw?"
Sakina glanced up at Carter as she pulled the stitching on the mattress shut. "To you, it is called Jerusalem sage." Tying the stitches tightly, she explained, "It is a signature. My husband's father thought of it when he opened his workshop, and my husband continued the tradition. I have carried some of the blossoms with me since I had to sell the workshop, and now I can put them to use."
As a way of thanking the outlaws for allowing her to stay with them, she had offered to make mattresses for the new camp. It had been her trade, learned from her husband, and she was glad to be able to help. The gang was glad to have something so comfortable to sleep on. She only had two more to make, which meant that all the beds would be done soon. Carter was stocking the larder out of baskets he and Sakina had brought over from the old camp, in preparation for the big move, which was to happen the next day.
"I cannot tell you how much I am looking forward to sleeping on a real bed," Carter grinned.
She smiled back. "As am I. My only wish is that I could have accessed the materials I had in my workshop; these will be comfortable enough, but with down to mix into the filling, or a softer fabric, they would be much better."
"Trust me, we are not picky."
Slicing off the extra string, she gave the mattress a pat. "There! This is finished."
"That's going in Much and Eve's room, right?"
"Yes."
They each grabbed an end of the mattress. He winced when they lifted it, and she asked, "Are you all right?" The skin around his mouth had gone a bit white, but he nodded anyway. Recognizing stubbornness when she saw it, Sakina let the issue drop. However, after they had deposited the mattress on its frame, she said casually, "I have noticed your kindnesses and bravery over the short time I have been here, which means your friends are even more aware of those qualities. You have nothing to prove."
Carter's eyebrows nearly lifted off his head. "Pardon?"
With a sigh, she continued, "Many activities are paining you, but you insist on doing them, regardless. That is not necessary; there are other ways you can contribute, without hurting yourself."
He stared at her for a minute, and then said, "I'm going to go grab another basket from the old camp. I will be back shortly."
Something inside of her sank at the announcement, but she merely nodded and went to start work on the next mattress. Why did she have to do that? After more than a week with the outlaws, she was finally beginning to feel accepted; if not an actual part of the group, at least a satellite member. And the day had been going so nicely; most of the gang was making deliveries to the villages and Nottingham, while a few stayed back at the old camp to pack up anything of use or value. Sakina had been hesitant about going to the new camp alone, so Carter volunteered to begin moving the foodstuffs and keep her company. They had had a few wonderful conversations since her arrival, as she had with most of the gang; but this was the first time that she and the fair Crusader been alone for an extended time, and she was enjoying herself immensely. He was a quiet, yet quick one, and she was glad for her extensive tutoring in English, because a lesser grasp of the language would have hindered her ability to keep up her end of the conversation.
Also, she might have missed some of his humor, which could be rather dry. As it happened, her own ran along the same lines, and they had been laughing a lot.
Then, she had to pry where she was unwelcome, and ruin it all. It was one of her worst habits. Haidar had often suggested that her life would be easier if she left well enough alone, but he had loved her despite the fault, so she never made the effort to improve it. Resigned, she picked up her shears and began cutting out pieces of fabric.
Carter came back into the room as she was finishing up. His hair and clothes were soaked. "It's raining," he told her, unnecessarily.
"Is it?"
"Don't be cheeky," he said, but was teasing, and she was glad that he no longer seemed upset with her.
He quickly laid a fire in the hearth and got it going, while Sakina retrieved blankets. He shed his shirt and laid it out to dry, and then glanced at her with a touch of awkwardness. Getting the picture, she turned her back, giving him the chance to take off his trousers and wrap up in one of the blankets. As she waited, a small smile played over her lips. When was the last time she was alone with a man who was even partially undressed? There had been that one pilgrim who spilled soup on his robe, but he had another in his pack and had quickly donned it. Discounting that... three years, give or take. No wonder the slight rustling sounds from behind her were so fascinating. Also, it could not be denied that Carter was a beautiful man, although she was doing her best to ignore that fact. She had come to England for Atiya, not for herself.
"Done."
She turned around, finding him wrapped up in a large afghan. It did a pretty good job of covering him, but if he was cold, he might need another. "Can I get you another blanket for your feet?"
Glancing down at where the afghan ended below his knees, he shook his head. "Thank you, but I'll just sit." He arranged himself beside his clothing in such a way that he was totally covered. Ignoring the disappointed part of herself, she went back to cutting out fabric.
"I could not have brought clothing over earlier. It had to be food," he muttered, though he did not sound that disturbed by it.
Sakina looked up and found him watching her. Deadpan, she said, "I have a change of clothes in my room that you are welcome to."
Surprised, he burst out laughing. "Do not tempt me," he warned.
"So, it is a challenge now." She raised an eyebrow, but grinned back at him. Returning her attention to the fabric at least in appearance, she informed him, "I believe the blue tunic would look especially nice on you. Still, come to think of it, I do not know that you would fit in my trousers." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized that they had sounded less innocent than they were intended. Face flaming, she leaned down as if peering more closely at her work, making her hair fall in a curtain to hide behind.
There was silence for a moment, and then he said lightly, "Not if you ever hoped to wear them again, anyway."
Peeking at him through her hair, she bit her lip to keep from giggling.
"I'd ask if you would not mind making me a pair," he continued, gesturing to the linen spread along the floor. "But, I expect these will dry before those would be finished."
"You underestimate my skills." She sat up, flipping her hair back behind her. "However, I need this for the mattress."
"A pity. I would be interested to see the result of such quick tailoring."
She finally laughed. "It would not be very flattering, I admit, but they would suffice."
"It sounds like you have done that before."
The humor drained out of her as she remembered the times she hastily made garments. Nodding, she replied, "Yes, for wounded soldiers. I am a terrible cook, a worse baker, and fainted the times I tried nursing. I can sew, though, and we had plenty of materials at hand; some that we could spare, others that I really should not have used. So, I made clothing, bedding... anything that was needed."
Carter looked startled, but she was not sure why until he said, "I'm certain it was appreciated. Wearing the same clothing you have been wounded in is not a comfortable way to try to heal."
"I can imagine it would not be," she said slowly, realizing he was speaking from experience. She wondered how many times he had been injured, but assumed he would not like to be asked. Finished with the main pieces of the mattress, she spread out the cloth intended for the sides. However, instead of starting to cut it, she sat back. "I am sorry for what I said earlier; it was unfair."
His gaze had been on the fabric, but met hers then. "No, it was not. You're right; I push myself too far." He shrugged. "I need to. I am used to doing things for myself and others; if I give that up, the sheriff has won. He may not have killed me, but if I cannot do things I am used to doing, he has defeated a part of me."
"But, if you push yourself too far and cause more injury, how is that better?"
"It's not," he admitted ruefully.
A piece of crumbled leaf on the fabric caught her eye, and she picked it off. "Just... be careful." She pretended not to notice that he was studying her, picking at minuscule specks now to avoid looking at him.
"Something's wrong; what is it?"
Cursing herself again, knowing she should hold her tongue but unused to doing so, Sakina murmured, "Haidar-- my husband-- was the same way." For awhile, after his death, speaking of him made her heart scream; she could barely whisper his name without the pain tearing her apart from within. That agony had eased with time, and she could now remember him in happiness, but there was little to smile about in this memory. "When he took ill, he became so frustrated. He would not allow it to keep him from his tasks, not even for a day. And for awhile, he seemed to be improving."
Until that day. She had gone back to the house to prepare their afternoon meal, had brought it back... She shied away from the next image her mind would be conjuring, and in the hopes of avoiding it, quickly finished, "And then, he was dead." The tactic did not work, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the ache that sprang up as she saw him again, sprawled on the dirt floor, wrongly still.
"Hey." Carter was suddenly in front of her, one of his hands on her shoulder. When she was able to open her eyes again, she realized that his other hand was clutching the afghan shut. The insane urge to giggle rose in her throat, and she knew she needed to collect herself. "I'm sorry; I did not mean to upset you."
Shoving the recollection away, she shook her head, the movement jerkier than she'd expected. "No, it is fine. Usually. But sometimes, it takes me by surprise."
"I understand. Not losing a spouse, but the way the memories can attack you like that."
She knew a little of his background, but not much. "You lost your brother."
"And friends. Many friends."
Nodding, she said, "I have lost friends, as well."
He glanced around the camp, and then back to her. "Well, we have both found new ones here."
They exchanged a smile. "Yes, we have," she agreed.
While she assembled the mattress, they shared stories about their families and friends, and by the time Carter's clothes were dry, the sun had emerged again in time to slip toward the horizon. As they set off to meet the others at the old camp, Sakina wondered what sort of stories would be told about all of them.
next chapter
*
Rating: PG-13
Pairings/characters: Carter/Sakina (OC)
Word count: 2026
Spoilers: While this alters the end of S2, there are still minor spoilers for the whole run of the show, including S3.
Summary: Sakina and Carter are rained in at the new camp.
Disclaimer: Had I money, influence or rights, things would've gone muuuuch differently. However, the lovely folks at the BBC and TA have all of those.
previous chapter
-19-
"What's that flower you're putting in with the straw?"
Sakina glanced up at Carter as she pulled the stitching on the mattress shut. "To you, it is called Jerusalem sage." Tying the stitches tightly, she explained, "It is a signature. My husband's father thought of it when he opened his workshop, and my husband continued the tradition. I have carried some of the blossoms with me since I had to sell the workshop, and now I can put them to use."
As a way of thanking the outlaws for allowing her to stay with them, she had offered to make mattresses for the new camp. It had been her trade, learned from her husband, and she was glad to be able to help. The gang was glad to have something so comfortable to sleep on. She only had two more to make, which meant that all the beds would be done soon. Carter was stocking the larder out of baskets he and Sakina had brought over from the old camp, in preparation for the big move, which was to happen the next day.
"I cannot tell you how much I am looking forward to sleeping on a real bed," Carter grinned.
She smiled back. "As am I. My only wish is that I could have accessed the materials I had in my workshop; these will be comfortable enough, but with down to mix into the filling, or a softer fabric, they would be much better."
"Trust me, we are not picky."
Slicing off the extra string, she gave the mattress a pat. "There! This is finished."
"That's going in Much and Eve's room, right?"
"Yes."
They each grabbed an end of the mattress. He winced when they lifted it, and she asked, "Are you all right?" The skin around his mouth had gone a bit white, but he nodded anyway. Recognizing stubbornness when she saw it, Sakina let the issue drop. However, after they had deposited the mattress on its frame, she said casually, "I have noticed your kindnesses and bravery over the short time I have been here, which means your friends are even more aware of those qualities. You have nothing to prove."
Carter's eyebrows nearly lifted off his head. "Pardon?"
With a sigh, she continued, "Many activities are paining you, but you insist on doing them, regardless. That is not necessary; there are other ways you can contribute, without hurting yourself."
He stared at her for a minute, and then said, "I'm going to go grab another basket from the old camp. I will be back shortly."
Something inside of her sank at the announcement, but she merely nodded and went to start work on the next mattress. Why did she have to do that? After more than a week with the outlaws, she was finally beginning to feel accepted; if not an actual part of the group, at least a satellite member. And the day had been going so nicely; most of the gang was making deliveries to the villages and Nottingham, while a few stayed back at the old camp to pack up anything of use or value. Sakina had been hesitant about going to the new camp alone, so Carter volunteered to begin moving the foodstuffs and keep her company. They had had a few wonderful conversations since her arrival, as she had with most of the gang; but this was the first time that she and the fair Crusader been alone for an extended time, and she was enjoying herself immensely. He was a quiet, yet quick one, and she was glad for her extensive tutoring in English, because a lesser grasp of the language would have hindered her ability to keep up her end of the conversation.
Also, she might have missed some of his humor, which could be rather dry. As it happened, her own ran along the same lines, and they had been laughing a lot.
Then, she had to pry where she was unwelcome, and ruin it all. It was one of her worst habits. Haidar had often suggested that her life would be easier if she left well enough alone, but he had loved her despite the fault, so she never made the effort to improve it. Resigned, she picked up her shears and began cutting out pieces of fabric.
Carter came back into the room as she was finishing up. His hair and clothes were soaked. "It's raining," he told her, unnecessarily.
"Is it?"
"Don't be cheeky," he said, but was teasing, and she was glad that he no longer seemed upset with her.
He quickly laid a fire in the hearth and got it going, while Sakina retrieved blankets. He shed his shirt and laid it out to dry, and then glanced at her with a touch of awkwardness. Getting the picture, she turned her back, giving him the chance to take off his trousers and wrap up in one of the blankets. As she waited, a small smile played over her lips. When was the last time she was alone with a man who was even partially undressed? There had been that one pilgrim who spilled soup on his robe, but he had another in his pack and had quickly donned it. Discounting that... three years, give or take. No wonder the slight rustling sounds from behind her were so fascinating. Also, it could not be denied that Carter was a beautiful man, although she was doing her best to ignore that fact. She had come to England for Atiya, not for herself.
"Done."
She turned around, finding him wrapped up in a large afghan. It did a pretty good job of covering him, but if he was cold, he might need another. "Can I get you another blanket for your feet?"
Glancing down at where the afghan ended below his knees, he shook his head. "Thank you, but I'll just sit." He arranged himself beside his clothing in such a way that he was totally covered. Ignoring the disappointed part of herself, she went back to cutting out fabric.
"I could not have brought clothing over earlier. It had to be food," he muttered, though he did not sound that disturbed by it.
Sakina looked up and found him watching her. Deadpan, she said, "I have a change of clothes in my room that you are welcome to."
Surprised, he burst out laughing. "Do not tempt me," he warned.
"So, it is a challenge now." She raised an eyebrow, but grinned back at him. Returning her attention to the fabric at least in appearance, she informed him, "I believe the blue tunic would look especially nice on you. Still, come to think of it, I do not know that you would fit in my trousers." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized that they had sounded less innocent than they were intended. Face flaming, she leaned down as if peering more closely at her work, making her hair fall in a curtain to hide behind.
There was silence for a moment, and then he said lightly, "Not if you ever hoped to wear them again, anyway."
Peeking at him through her hair, she bit her lip to keep from giggling.
"I'd ask if you would not mind making me a pair," he continued, gesturing to the linen spread along the floor. "But, I expect these will dry before those would be finished."
"You underestimate my skills." She sat up, flipping her hair back behind her. "However, I need this for the mattress."
"A pity. I would be interested to see the result of such quick tailoring."
She finally laughed. "It would not be very flattering, I admit, but they would suffice."
"It sounds like you have done that before."
The humor drained out of her as she remembered the times she hastily made garments. Nodding, she replied, "Yes, for wounded soldiers. I am a terrible cook, a worse baker, and fainted the times I tried nursing. I can sew, though, and we had plenty of materials at hand; some that we could spare, others that I really should not have used. So, I made clothing, bedding... anything that was needed."
Carter looked startled, but she was not sure why until he said, "I'm certain it was appreciated. Wearing the same clothing you have been wounded in is not a comfortable way to try to heal."
"I can imagine it would not be," she said slowly, realizing he was speaking from experience. She wondered how many times he had been injured, but assumed he would not like to be asked. Finished with the main pieces of the mattress, she spread out the cloth intended for the sides. However, instead of starting to cut it, she sat back. "I am sorry for what I said earlier; it was unfair."
His gaze had been on the fabric, but met hers then. "No, it was not. You're right; I push myself too far." He shrugged. "I need to. I am used to doing things for myself and others; if I give that up, the sheriff has won. He may not have killed me, but if I cannot do things I am used to doing, he has defeated a part of me."
"But, if you push yourself too far and cause more injury, how is that better?"
"It's not," he admitted ruefully.
A piece of crumbled leaf on the fabric caught her eye, and she picked it off. "Just... be careful." She pretended not to notice that he was studying her, picking at minuscule specks now to avoid looking at him.
"Something's wrong; what is it?"
Cursing herself again, knowing she should hold her tongue but unused to doing so, Sakina murmured, "Haidar-- my husband-- was the same way." For awhile, after his death, speaking of him made her heart scream; she could barely whisper his name without the pain tearing her apart from within. That agony had eased with time, and she could now remember him in happiness, but there was little to smile about in this memory. "When he took ill, he became so frustrated. He would not allow it to keep him from his tasks, not even for a day. And for awhile, he seemed to be improving."
Until that day. She had gone back to the house to prepare their afternoon meal, had brought it back... She shied away from the next image her mind would be conjuring, and in the hopes of avoiding it, quickly finished, "And then, he was dead." The tactic did not work, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the ache that sprang up as she saw him again, sprawled on the dirt floor, wrongly still.
"Hey." Carter was suddenly in front of her, one of his hands on her shoulder. When she was able to open her eyes again, she realized that his other hand was clutching the afghan shut. The insane urge to giggle rose in her throat, and she knew she needed to collect herself. "I'm sorry; I did not mean to upset you."
Shoving the recollection away, she shook her head, the movement jerkier than she'd expected. "No, it is fine. Usually. But sometimes, it takes me by surprise."
"I understand. Not losing a spouse, but the way the memories can attack you like that."
She knew a little of his background, but not much. "You lost your brother."
"And friends. Many friends."
Nodding, she said, "I have lost friends, as well."
He glanced around the camp, and then back to her. "Well, we have both found new ones here."
They exchanged a smile. "Yes, we have," she agreed.
While she assembled the mattress, they shared stories about their families and friends, and by the time Carter's clothes were dry, the sun had emerged again in time to slip toward the horizon. As they set off to meet the others at the old camp, Sakina wondered what sort of stories would be told about all of them.
next chapter
*