Safe Haven

I inhaled the stale, cool air of the shop, calming my irritation and the rising headache. Dropping my head down so my bangs shadowed my face, I gripped the rough wooden countertop. After my heartbeat slowed from its erratic thumping I raised my head and locked my eyes with deep, steely brown ones.

"I'm not going and there's nothing you can do to change my mind," I enunciated carefully, keeping my death grip on the counter. I didn't know if I could keep my temper in check.

Bren, the big oaf, ignored my warning tone and settled his meaty hands on the counter as well, although instead of gripping them he set them flat, leaning foreword until our noses were inches apart. The scent of fire, coal, and metal assaulted my nose making my head spin and nose tingle. I took a shallow breath through my mouth as a fit of nausea and dizziness swept over me. Bren didn't seem to notice and continued to silently glare at me before his mouth opened to speak.

"You can't stay locked up here at the shop, Rael," he rumbled. My eye twitched as his deep, gravelly voice assaulted my ears. A faint ringing filled my head. I shook my head to try dislodge it. Noticing my shaking head, Bren let out a huff of air, his breath pushing some of my curly hair away from my face.

Thankfully, he leaned back behind the counter, crossing his meaty arms across his chest. I sent a faint prayer that he took my shaking head as a sign of dissent. My senses have been out of whack lately and being that close had almost sent me into another fit. Now that would have been embarrassing.

"You're coming to the festival even if I have to sling you over my shoulder."

I laughed derisively. "You'll get arrested by the Guard before you can even step foot in the main festival Square."

A malicious smirk lit his stony features. I gulped inwardly, my eyebrows furrowing in worry. That was never a good sign.

"They won't think anything of it," he slowly said, practically spelling it out for me.

I felt my mouth thin in anger. "Don't go there Bren," I warned

His evil smirk grew. "They'll just think I caught myself a pretty woman to keep me company for the last festival night." I hated how he enunciated that word.

I released my grip on the table, jumping onto it instead. I glared down at him for a moment before I lunged and clocked him on the side of the face. Since I used my whole body to force it, both Bren and I tumbled to the floor boards. We were a mass of struggling, jabbing limbs. I dodged a fist and he dodged a well placed kick. I twisted around to dodge an elbow and got clocked instead with a knee. I coughed as air was knocked out of me. That was definently a cheap shot to the solar plexus. Before I could get a full breath, I saw a fist coming for my face out of the corner of my eye and deftly rolled away. Bren hunched in front of his own glass case, the gems behind him gleaming dully in the early morning light. I crouched in front of the case opposite his, rubbing my chest. I saw the muscles tense in his legs as he prepared to launch himself at me and I prepared to dodge.

"Enough!"

Bren staggered to the side as his jump was interrupted and I jerked so bad I banged my elbow against the concrete base of the case. We both looked up to the source of the sound.

Mervis Gretch, or Mr. Gretch as he liked to be called, stood angrily in front of the back room door behind the counter we had been previously standing next to. He was an imposing man by his own right with muscles lining his shoulders and arms. Now he looked damn terrifying. His strong hands gripped his hips, his legs spread in an intimidating stance that definently intimidated us. His sharp blue eyes peirced into us and his brow was curved into a sharp, angry V. He looked disheveled with his white long sleeved shirt askew and dark pants crumpled at the ankles where they'd been hastily shoved into his work boots. I swallowed thickly as his angry glare swiveled onto me. His lips were thinned and bloodless.

"What in the bloody hell is going on here!"

I glanced at Bren who was kneeling on the ground, head bowed with his hands gripping his knees. If the situation wasn't so dangerous I'd be laughing my ass off. He looked like a young child being scolded by his betters, which was probably true. I dropped down into a cross legged position, crossing my arms defiantly over my chest. I used all of my will to glare right back into Mr. Gretch's eyes, ignoring the instinct to grovel and plead my case like a five year old.

"Well, out with it!" he growled. "Why was I woken up at this gods aweful hour to the sound of my shop being ransacked?"

"We were just having a scuffle," I stated, not moving my eyes from his.

Mr. Gretch let out a huff of air. "I got that much when I saw you guys trying to beat each other bloody in my shop. Now tell me why?"

I was about to explain when Bren's deep voice interrupted me. "I was trying to get Rael to go to the last day of the festival and we got into a little argument, sir," he said politely.

Snorting in derision, I glared heatedly at his downturned face. He was too damned polite for his own good. "After making a certain comment on my features, I thought it was too much of an insult so knocked some sense into him."

One pure white eyebrow quirked up, then a knowing smile spread across Mr. Gretch's face. "Ahh, that comment," he said. I gritted my teeth in irritation. "When will you get over it Rael? I'm pretty sure the guy who tried to pick you up was a little drunk, so it's understandable how he might have gotten confused. You were dressed in the right clothes that anyone could have mistake you for a woman, when you came back I thought you were for a moment. Hell, even old Mrs. Mathis thought you were a new corner girl." Bren snorted. I whipped my head and hissed a prophanity in his direction.

"It wasn't my fault!" I flailed my arms in exasperation and anger. "Bren, the big assed oaf, stole my clothes and left the friggin' dress in my closet. I had to run all the way to his place to get 'em back! And the fat lard of a man didn't have to hit on me for a full fuckin' ten minutes!"

I saw Bren's face turning purple out of the corner of my eye as he tried to hold in his laughter. That's right, suffocate to death.

Mr. Gretch laughed heartily, his voice booming and reverberating in the small shop. I grit my teeth as my ears throbbed unpleasantly. After he finished his laughing fit my ears twinged in pain.

"You didn't have to beat the man half to death!" He exclaimed, bursting into another laughing fit. I covered my ears to muffle the sound and grumbled under my breath.

"He deserved every lost tooth, and the broken nose."

Bren seemed to have reached his limit because a moment later his raucous laughter joined Mr. Gretch's. I pressed my hands tight against my ears and squinted my eyes closed, moaning softly as a full blown head ache erupted. I pressed the tips of my fingers against my temples and rubbed in small circles, something that seemed to help. I was thankful Bren and Mr. Gretch were too busy laughing their asses off to notice. I didn't need them questioning me since I didn't even know what was wrong.

"I only did that to get back at you for sabotaging my uniform," Bren gasped out between laughs. He leaned back on his hands and looked over at me. I quickly dropped my hands to my lap and tried to smooth out my features. A quizzical look passed over his face before a shit eating grin replaced it. "I don't think Ms. Lambert will ever get over seeing me after the uniform fell apart when I was working on her nephew's sword."

I gripped my knees tightly with both hands and faked a smirk. "I don't think poor Ms. Lambert, the old crone, minded seeing a bit of manflesh," I retorted. I was worried Mr. Gretch would pass out from lack of air the way he was laughing.

"Good gods!" he exclaimed, gulping in heaping mouthfuls of air. "That's why she was so red faced when she came in to get the jewels on that sword shined!"

Bren turned a healthy shade of red, ducking his face to the side. Aww, the poor man was embarassed!

"Now back to the issue," Mr. Gretch intoned, his face straight and serious. It surprised me sometimes how easily Mr. Gretch could go from aloof to serious, even after working under him for three years. "Rael," he continued, zeroing in on me once again. "You will go to the damned festival today since it's the last day, ah ah," he rose a hand to halt my protests. "I'm tired of having you moping here in the shop. And anyways, we haven't had a lot of business because of the festival so you won't be missed."

"But-"

"Thank you Mr. Gretch," Bren interrupted, again. I can never get a word out with this man, sheesh. "We'll be taking our leave now." Without further ado, Bren had simultaneously clamped an iron fist around my bicep, pulled me up, and dragged me half out of the shop.

"You haven't heard the last of this, Mr. Gretch!" I yelled as the door slammed shut behind us. I could hear the old man's hearty chuckles through the heavy wood.