bakerstreet | A savage lover

( I mean

well. )

[Can work on either side of this, though if he's the "savage" it's more likely he's being handed someone, and I'd love a role reversal in terms of power dynamics, at least behind the scenes.
If he's the the "civilized" one... well, please take care of your new cat. He likes to travel, so there's no real restriction on what the surroundings might be!]

Qrow doesn't necessarily like it, but he gets it. They're a small and isolated tribe, and they need new blood. With the surrounding villages so peaceful and prosperous as of late, there just haven't been too many runaways or wandering unsavories stumbling onto their campsite and joining their ranks for many years now. Raven and Qrow Branwen were among the very few members their own age, and they were getting older.

So no, it wasn't that he got off on the idea of having a captive bride or anything twisted like that. They had to take her, for their own survival.

It was just a damned inconvenient arrangement for him. This woman might look beautiful and delicate, but her attitude was anything but. Her place here in the tribe had been made clear to her, and she knew escape was impossible, so why couldn't she just come to terms with it and cooperate like a good girl? As second-in-command of the tribe, Qrow could give her a decent life.

Qrow sighs, sitting down at the low table and giving her an expectant look from across the tent. On the table is the full spread: rice porridge with mountain vegetables, pit roasted wild-caught boar, hot tea with honey. And, of course, plenty of rice wine. It's a veritable celebration dinner by forest standards.

"So... are you going to eat, or just sit there until you starve yourself to death?"

Winter had been shooting him poisonous looks every time he crossed her field of vision. These thieves might see fit to tell her that there was no hope of escape or rescue, but she was determined to prove them wrong at any cost. They would suffer dearly for tearing her away from her family. And for what? To breed more of their ill-mannered ilk? It would not stand.

"You neglected to mention the third option," she replied frostily, hands locked into fists despite how primly she knelt before the table, straight backed, chin raised imperiously. "The one where you choke on your mistakes and die like a pig."

What did the man expect? That simply transporting her, by force no less!, from one place to another would seal her as his own?

Her stomach growled plaintively, but not a muscle on her face twitched, as if he had been the one to emit a sign of weakness instead of her.

Yes, that was the general idea, and about as far as the Branwen tribe had thought it through: capture beautiful woman, perform marriage rites, profit. It was a plan that made complete sense to Qrow's sister, but only because Raven was absolutely ruthless when it came to tribal matters. And were it Raven sitting across from Winter right now, the prim village maiden would not be looking so defiant. Winter would never be allowed to speak to her like that without a beating.

Qrow, on the other hand, simply gave her a bland look as she mouthed off. It was the sort of look that said Winter could by all means continue, because it made no difference to him. Nothing about her situation would change from talk alone.

He opened his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by the audible growling of her stomach. Qrow laughed, and though it was a warm sound compared to her icey countenance, the tone he took was more teasing than friendly.

"Well, that isn't going to happen, so I guess we're back to eat or starve. Sounds like your stomach's made up its mind."

Were she a cat, she would be bristling and growling in response to his laughter. She did not find his laugh to be comforting. However, she did find it somewhat...better than expected...in seeing that he saw fit to keep his distance and not touch her. He hadn't even shown any signs of leering, so she wondered just how much say he even had in the bride he was given. It was entirely possible that every other bandit wasn't willing to put up with her acerbic tongue (and likelihood of violence, she'd put up quite a fight when her carriage was ambushed).

She allowed her gaze to rest upon the food, but she made no move to taste it yet, no matter how much she longed for the soothing qualities of that tea. Winter hadn't given up on her plans of escape, but as a strategist, she knew she would need food to maintain her strength.

The problem was that she didn't trust these cretins not to drug her food to make her more compliant. Now that Qrow was here, she had a means of discovering whether or not the food was safe.

She nudged the bowl of porridge toward her captor. "You first."

The truth was that Qrow was certainly important enough within the tribe to have his pick of brides. And if he were to choose, Winter did have a lot of qualities he would be looking for. She was not only beautiful, with that petite but voluptuous figure of hers, but also strong-willed and capable of defending herself. Probably quite intelligent, too, though the only evidence Qrow had so far was the creativity of her insults. No, what made this situation such a drag for him was very simple: Qrow Branwen would have rather died a bachelor.

But now here she was, and now he had to take care of her, teach her how to live and to fight like them, and somehow keep her from doing anything stupid enough to invite Raven's wrath.

It was enough to drive a man to drink. Which Qrow did gladly, sipping at his rice wine to pass the time while he watched Winter eye the food. Fortunately the clay cup hid his amused little grin. It was like he could literally see her giving in...

"Huh?" Her request surprised him, but he caught on pretty quickly once his brain caught up. His eyes narrowed slightly, and then they rolled in exasperation. "Fine, whatever."

She must think them pretty low to assume they would poison or drug her! Call it bias, but it somehow didn't occur to him that of course she would even while he picked up the spoon from the bowl for a bite. Once swallowed, Qrow pushed the bowl back to her and gestured to the whole meal they were to share.

"See? Totally safe."

"Now the meat."

She wasn't the slightest bit satisfied until he'd eaten a little of everything. He could drink as much of the rice wine as he wanted, however, since Winter had no intention of dulling her senses in any fashion.

...Perhaps he would drink even more, and stupefy himself to create an easy escape for her indeed.

"And if I should eat of this, it will not constitute any sort of legal and binding arrangement?" Because if there was some foolish law about eating the food of the tribe making her immediately become this man's wife, she would be absolutely livid.

Okay, he was willing to entertain Winter's demand that he taste something if it would soothe her paranoia, but Qrow wasn't about to be walked through an entire meal at her command. He scowled, his dark brows drawing together in annoyance.

This was exactly why he didn't want to take a wife!

"I'll eat what I want, when I want it. Who do you think you are, telling me what to do?" he growled, quickly downing what was left of his cup of wine just as Winter had hoped for. Perhaps it was a reflection of his high station within the tribe that Qrow would react badly to being ordered around - or maybe it was just a red flag for immaturity. Regardless, he simply huffed a laugh at her next question, mocking.

"Said like you give a damn about our laws. Eat it or don't, see if I care," Qrow grumbled, while pouring tea in both of their cups anyway.

Her paranoia was far from soothed. Now it was heightened. It seemed just in time, too, for if he refused to eat the meat, then it was probably sprinkled liberally with some manner of toxin or drug. The porridge, too, might have something in the bottom of the bowl, which was why he only skimmed from the top.

"As you wish," Winter answered crisply, ignoring the pangs of hunger in her stomach as she pushed the bowl away from her and remained rooted on the spot. Perhaps later, when he slept, she could find something else that was unlikely to be tainted and be content with that. Or, better yet, slip out of the village entirely. She might not have the wilderness experience that they did, but despite being a highborn daughter, she was far from soft.

"I find your laws crude and selfish. The very definition of barbaric, if you will. You'll regret your crimes soon enough."

Honestly he was starting to regret not drugging her. Think of the peace and quiet he could have had... oh, gods, he might never have that again. This woman was meant to be living in his tent, after all, from here on out.

Qrow sighed when she pushed the bowl away. Everything about this was terrible and only growing worse by the second, but he wasn't at all inclined to go hungry himself just because she was being stubborn. He picked up the bowl himself to eat, already countering her argument with his mouth half-full.

"Whatever." He swallowed, and gestured again to the meal with the spoon. It was extravagant for them, not that she could appreciate that. "At least I'm not rude enough to ignore the food an entire tribe spent all day hunting and preparing for me."

Her eyes narrowed and never left his face.

"Indeed. The gravest sin of all, not to show appreciation to the brigands who kidnap and force women to bear their children. How superior you are."

Her fists were clenched so tightly on her lap that they trembled, aching to connect with his stubbled jaw. How dare he! The gall to criticize her after all he'd done! After all he was going to do! But she'd only get once chance at launching a physical assault, she had to bide until the right moment. If she lost her temper too soon, they'd know just how capable she was in a fight, and would likely tie her or cage her. Escape truly would be next to impossible in such circumstances.

Qrow's lip curled, just slightly, but perceptibly enough when her gaze held so steady on his face. His expression was something akin to very deep offense. He was affronted that she would sit here and mock him for pointing out her bad manners when she insulted his people so liberally and freely called them savages. His people were the very same that holier-than-thou families such as herself had cast out of their villages, with nowhere else to go but here. They were not all born bandits, but they became this way to survive.

That didn't mean he was just going to force himself on her. The tribe didn't need children so badly that Qrow would break one of the few moral codes he had.

"I'm not forcing you to do anything. I didn't ask for the pleasure of your company either, your highness."

Seriously, she must think herself a princess to act so high and mighty. The assumptions she made!

She eyed him suspiciously. What did he mean by that? Surely he had some say, or else she wouldn't be here in the first place. Did he take her for a fool?

...Or...perhaps...he had no choice but to follow the orders of his chief. She didn't know his relation to Raven, and if not for witnessing the way people jumped to follow her orders, she might not have known the identity of the chieftain to begin with.

That didn't mean she was ready to trust Qrow, but if she could figure him out, and if he truly disliked being with her, then they might have a common goal in mind.

"Why do you keep me here, then?" she asked slowly, watching his face carefully for any signs of deception. "Surely you must have expected displeasure at the very least, so my negative reaction is no surprise. Is it not in your own best interest to release me?"

There was no deception to be found on the man's stubbled, scowling face. Qrow still hadn't settled down from the deep insult she dealt him with the implication that he would force her to bear his children. He didn't even want children! Yet he still sighed deeply when Winter asked him the inevitable.

That was precisely the dilemma he'd presented to Raven. And what had his sister confidently informed him?

"Because she'll hunt you down and she'll kill you." Qrow said it very gravely, scarlet eyes locked on hers. He meant to impress upon his captive 'fiance' that this was a statement of absolute fact. Even if the way he then grunted and leaned over the table to grab a slice of the roasted meat with his hands - and proceeded to take a huge bite of it - made him appear a little too nonchalant about the whole mortal peril issue.

After all, Qrow wasn't going to just let Winter run off to slaughter, so why worry about it?

"Would you just eat something?" he mumbled inelegantly between bites. "You're stressing me out."

She didn't flinch. Her gaze was locked on his in turn, blue eyes cool and seemingly unconcerned.

"...You think of me as 'soft,'" she concluded. "Untested. Sheltered."

Winter watched him as he reached for the meat, waiting until he ate of it before she was certain that it was likely safe if she did sate her hunger.

"Don't be so certain. She may hunt me, but I assure you that I will not die so easily as you believe." Perhaps there was indeed some possibility of an alliance. If so, then she had to demonstrate at least some willingness to cooperate, if not with the wretched tribe, then with this one man. Winter regarded her porridge with hesitance, then exhaled, and picked up the bowl to eat with small. polite bites. "You don't agree with the tribe's behavior?"

Qrow just lifts a skeptical brow to her objections, unconvinced. "Yeah, I do."

That answer comes quickly, because Qrow absolutely thinks Winter must be soft. Sure, he had heard she put up a fight, yet here she was. Did she seriously think she would stand a chance against the leader of a bandit tribe? Raven wasn't their chief just because she looked good with a sword.

The idea that this bird-like woman before him, with all her dainty mannerisms, could best his sister in a fight was laughable.

"Who cares if you die easily or not? Dead is dead," Qrow snorts, wiping his hands clean on a cloth before pouring out some more rice wine.

That last question he's just going to ignore in favor of a drink. He'll ignore it for as long as possible, in fact.

He isn't obligated to tell Winter a damn thing. It's not like they're married.

"I see your point." She lowered the bowl, still prim, still proper. That should have been a warning sign -- Winter had been completely disagreeable up until this very moment. She wasn't lying, though. In fact, she agreed. Death by any means amounted to the same. She lifted the cup and saucer.

And smashed the saucer with one quick swipe, shattering it into shards. In a flash she had one of those shards between her fingers as she bodily lunged at Qrow to knock him over, intending to press the point of her improvised weapon up against his throat.

She had no intention of actually killing him. Had he shown signs of hostility or perversion, then this would be a very real murder attempt, and not just a means of proving a literal point.

Of course she saw his point - it was a damn good one. Or so he'd thought, for the brief interim in which she feigned her agreement. The ruse was effective. Qrow hadn't anticipated her attack, and any lesser man may very well have soiled his pants at her sudden assault.

She was dangerously fast with her makeshift weapon, but her approach was not only predictable, but also heralded by the loud clatter of the shattering dish - more than enough to pull Qrow's awareness away from his drink and onto her lunging form. He was a seasoned fighter, one of the most lethal members of their tribe. With his honed reflexes, he had more than enough time to dodge her attack or retaliate, even after the several drinks he'd had thus far.

Yet he allowed it, the collision of their bodies knocking him to the floor in the commotion of food and dishes scattering helter-skelter. Perhaps he sensed that there was no killing intent in her. Or, maybe he was just arrogant enough to believe that the fair maiden wouldn't have it in her to press as hard as she'd need to press to deliver a killing blow with a mere shard of porcelain. Regardless, they hit the floor with her on top of him, the remains of her plate pressed up against his throat just as she intended.

Yet Qrow simply looked up at her with the most infuriating smirk spreading on his lips. He even huffed a laugh, his brows lifting. "That's good. At least you'll scratch her before she skewers you."

...is what he said, but he seemed to be assessing his reluctant bride-to-be a little more carefully, now that she was up close and had something sharp pressed up against his jugular. One hand was at his hip, exactly where a blade might be sheathed.

There was no change in her pulse nor her breathing -- she remained completely calm, even icy, despite straddling a stranger's body with her own with the means of killing him in just one flick of her wrist. But she'd already deemed that he did not deserve death, and she had not trained herself to fight in order to murder human beings unless it were absolutely necessary.

So she remained on top of him, her disheveled hair brushing against his cheek. "If that is my fate, I will accept it. It is better than spending the rest of my days as a prisoner."

She was close to him, her lips barely an inch away from his. It was easy to feel his own breath as well as the beating of his heart where her empty hand was pressed against his chest to keep her balance. She was aware of where his other hand was placed, but she made no move to pin him or relieve him of his weapon. If she did go for it, he would be quicker on the draw, and have reason enough to suspect she wanted to kill him.

Instead, she studied his face again. His reaction was...peculiar, to say the least. He wasn't alarmed at all, and if she didn't know better, she would think he was encouraging her to prove her resolve. "...Can you accept my death as a possibility?"

Peculiar, perhaps, but smirking in the face of mortal danger was Qrow's usual MO. It would take much more than a broken piece of pottery in her small hands to truly alarm him. Had she come at him with a sword or a dagger, perhaps the scene would have played out differently, but as things stood - moreso than any threat, what he really saw in her actions was potential. It made Qrow want to see what she could do with a real weapon at her disposal.

If his heartbeat sped up just a little beneath her palm as she so coolly stared him down, it wasn't because he feared for his life. Winter was a very beautiful woman, after all, and their position was... well, not nearly as objectionable as she probably thought it was.

For a moment he simply watched her watch him, observant of her stoic disregard of his taunting. He scoffed at her lack of emotion when she professed her readiness for death, obviously disbelieving. "You're a real ice queen, aren't you?"

But before he could answer her question, his gaze shifted, a grimace crossing over his features as he alerted to a sound outside: a rush of approaching footsteps. The tribe didn't have guards proper, but of course someone would come to check after such a commotion from the co-chief's tent... and the rest of Winter's stay with them would not be pleasant (or very long) if they were to stumble upon her with something sharp and pointy pressed against a Branwen's throat.

Qrow reacted immediately and without warning, with the quick and fluid movements he kept hidden from Winter when he allowed her to overpower him: first his left hand rose to bat her 'weapon' away from his throat, then seizing her wrist in a powerful grip in the very same moment he lifted his head to close that tiny gap of space between them, with the aim of sealing his lips over hers.

The kiss was very believable, but it lasted only a second, long enough for the intruding underlings to catch an eyeful. Qrow pulled back the instant their alarmed calls morphed into awkward, stuttering apologies, and fixed them with a dull but commanding look. "Give us a little privacy, will you?"

He had no idea if Winter would play along, but Qrow could only hope she'd at least restrain the urge to brain him long enough for these guys to leave them.

So, in a way, she would have her answer: he didn't want her dead.

Winter heard the sounds as well. Though she wasn't aware of just how highly Qrow ranked on the brigand totem pole, she was still certain her defiance would not be looked upon favorably. She tensed on top of him. Should she fight? Spring off of him and try to flee?

But while her wide eyes were fixed on the silhouettes moving closer to the flap of the large tent, Qrow had made up his mind much faster than she had. She felt the broken saucer shard knocked away, and she didn't try to fight it...couldn't have even if she'd wanted to. He already had her wrist by the time she looked down at his face, too surprised to register his plan until his mouth was firmly pressed against her own.

"Mm--?!" Her nails raked lightly over his chest as she seized a fistful of his tunic, acting on pure instinct, before realizing just what he'd done.

He left her red-faced and breathless on top of him as he lazily lolled his head back to regard the pair of quasi-guards that peered suspiciously at the two of them. Winter grit her teeth and jerked her head away as if deeply embarrassed...not a difficult thing to feign, since her lips still tingled with that momentary fierce pressure, the taste of rice wine lingering. Her hand upon his chest slowly relaxed as she swallowed a gulp of air, trying to calm herself.

Qrow could have easily told them to haul her away and have her executed, or even just imprisoned until she became more meek and submissive to be given to someone else. It would have rid him of her neatly and easily.

Why...?

Winter closed her eyes and forced back her confused frustration. Whatever authority Qrow had, it seemed enough to turn the two away, and she was glad for that. Had they remained, she wasn't sure she could truly keep her cool under the threat of sexual voyeurism.

Once she was sure they had gone, she made no move to extricate herself from his grip, for now she was the one with the racing pulse...and it had nothing to do with almost being discovered. "You protected me. Why?" Her brow furrowed as she voiced her puzzlement with a small shake of her head.

Qrow even pulled together an undeniably smug little wink to meet the furtive backward glances of the retreating tribesmen, which when combined with Winter's red-faced embarrassment made for a convincing scene indeed. Which was good, because now he could count on not being bothered for some time. Those men would be far too busy generating rumors of Qrow Branwen's legendary sexual prowess - such that he could have a captive woman enthusiastically jumping his bones in just a few hours of meeting. Obviously Raven would see right through that shit, but as long as her brother wasn't dead then it really wasn't any of her business, now was it?

Both his smirk and the strength of his grip on Winter's wrist faded alongside the sound of the intruders' footsteps, and Qrow half expected her to outright slap him the instant they were left alone. Given her combative attitude thus far, he was almost surprised when no such strike came.

Doubly so when she remained right where she was, close enough that the soft ends of her hair tickled his cheek as she shook her head. Maybe it was the wine hitting home, making him a little bold, or else the small thrill the drag of her nails across his chest had given him - but Qrow felt strangely compelled to reach out and tuck that disheveled bit of hair in place behind her ear with the hand that previously held her captive.

His eyes were on her face, admiring the lingering hint of a blush on her fair skin. He couldn't help himself. It was so damn unexpected, he just had to tease her. It made no difference to him that just a minute ago she could have killed him.

...if anything, it's almost like her threat had suddenly made him more interested.

"Protected? Says who? Maybe I just wanted to kiss you."

Her mouth opened in a silent stupor as he brushed back her hair, wanting to say something, but completely incapable of finding a single word. His gaze, so sharp and intelligent, was oddly soft as he looked up at her, and she was momentarily arrested by a profound pulse of unexpected attraction. Why would he treat her so gently? Why did her welfare matter to him after her icy defiance?

She was clearly having a difficult time processing the situation. His motivations didn't match the rest of the tribe's. His arrogance and attitude toward her had been infuriatingly nonchalant. But when it mattered most, he'd protected her from a harsh punishment.

Even now, when she was feeling oddly moved by his gestures, his flippant remark made her want to grab that shard of pottery all over again. His mouth didn't seem to match his heart. No one had ever protected her in the past, not her father, not her broken-hearted mother. Winter had known fairly early on that she had to be capable of protecting herself, as well as her two younger siblings. It was both frustrating and amazing that this cocky stranger had done what her family and her suitors never could.

"...Is that the truth of it?" she inquired, arching an eyebrow. She didn't think so, but if he persisted in making smarmy remarks, then she didn't have to let her guard down. Trusting someone like him could be dangerous, but what choice did she have? He'd just proved that he was on her side, and he was likely the only one who was.

But if he was honest... Winter would have to deal with that moment when it came, she supposed. If it came at all.

conan ( the barbarian - 2011 ) | m/f

Juri | original | m/m

Alfred ( Vikings - m/m )

for specialist_snowflake

Beautiful!

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