"Well as much as aiding you brings back the fun I had helping my female coworkers and customers, I'm sorry to say this will most likely be a one time thing," Damian explained.
"You're leaving?" She asked.
"Yes well I have other things to do -" he started. She was staring at something behind him. He hoped it wasn't Lotte making weird faces again.
"I'm going on break now " she told the bartender and left no room for arguments. Damian blinked surprised, as did the bartender. However the latter got over his surprise and eyed Damian warily.
"Oh-" Damian startled.
"I wish to speak with you alone," Margothe grabbed his arm.
"What? Why?--" he protested.
Outside the tavern her beautiful expression was morphed into a cold mask of indifference.
"You said you were only going to do that for me once. Now I'm not objecting, if you run off it suits me fine. But usually that's when guests will enlighten me that I can do them a favor before departure and 'request' I spend the evening with them," she responded pushing her hair back and wielding a dagger he didn't know she had.
"Whoa! I wasn't helping you for anything to do with that -" Damian protested trying to fight off the blush at the accusation.
"You say that now but you'd be surprised how fickle and easily tempted men are. Typically by beauty." she remarked.
"No not really," he shrugged. Margothe narrowed her expression and before Damian could catch the action she had another knife pointed at his throat. He barely blocked it with his hand, resulting in stopping her from potentially impaling him but he couldn't move his hand, largely out of terror. So the dancer was obviously trained to fight. He supposed she had her problems handled, he stepped in for nothing.
"That's not to say you aren't beautiful." He faltered. "You are, I just have other urgencies that take priority over.... whatever this is," he sighed.
"Listen, I understand that you have been wronged by a number of people, predominantly males far older than you. However-" he barely blocked the hand holding the knife when she abruptly shoved it towards him.
"I have no fascination with desecrating or violating you or any woman." He finished, struggling against the determination in that hand. His hand was starting to sting, did she cut him so quickly?
"It's distasteful and the thought of committing such an act ruins my image of myself." He commented. She lowered the knife at the right side, near the back of his throat. The left one remained in place.
"That so? Your image of yourself must be pretty high" She hummed.
The sword was insisting he just cut her hand off and be done with it but he desperately pretended he couldn't hear it.
"There's a story about that I'm not going to tell. But honestly I was just helping you because it seemed like you were struggling to handle all of them. And I don't like standing by if there's a problem that can be fixed with something I can do." Damian clarified.
"Your moment of charity had no ulterior motives?" She clarified.
"No. Ask my sister." He commented disliking the wet feeling on his hand. The initial full sting was becoming harsh and unpleasant now.
"Your sister?" She asked.
"Yes." He responded seriously.
"Am I expected to simply believe your word? your sister could be oblivious to your real face-"
"If she is that makes us more alike than we realized. One more thing about being related to me to tease her about." he laughed in spite of his situation.
" We have our disagreements but she won't lie for me about the times we came through for each other. Yeah I lectured her about the time she let her former friends play with paintballs in my parents room, but I also helped her steal her bike back from those same friends who became her bullies. Then I helped steal it back the second and third time it happened. Even if she criticizes my baking in rude ways she still asks me to help her with the bake sales at school.
He would have figured Margothe didn't know what a bicycle was but really if she didn't ask, she either wasn't concerned or knew and didn't need to ask.
"As another example, today she signed me up to join a legion of monster hunters. I don't really want to go. But even knowing my sister can probably handle herself I can't let her go alone. I've come so far with this already,"
"It may seem like I'm monologuing but I don't want to walk away from a chance to be her brother, like I'm supposed to. I was instructed to be there for my sister. I'll keep being there for her even if she gets in over her head. And if that's not what she needs I know to back off and wait." He closed his hand around the knife, fully aware the cut was going to get worse.
"And if she makes a mistake?" She urged, letting him guide the knife away from the inch it was from his throat. Then pulling it from his hand.
"If she makes a mistake, I'll support her as she gets back up from it. Even if, I clearly don't need to hold her hand the whole time. although we grew up together and she annoyed me I don't know her at all and I feel like I should. My sister knows me. Better than anyone," he promised.
"I can't fight you, I know I don't have that good of training or practice but I think... I need to at least get people to understand that I specifically won't choose to hurt anyone. Especially not someone I don't need to hurt," he explained running his thumb over the fading cut on his hand. He hoped she wouldn't ask how he healed so quickly when he didn't have magic.
"There's no deceit in your eyes. Well Damian, watch yourself." She touched her hair, her hand disappearing in the mass of black curls near the back of her head.
Damian blushed "it's not relevant but I - we won the bake sale by the way,"
"You seem proud of this," She looked at him, an unreadable expression on her face.
He shrugged in response.
"Noted. In any case, you're a foreigner. Many people don't take well to the inhabitants already here. Your best bet is going home. Especially with the last foreigner meeting his unfortunate end due to fitting the prophecy too closely," Margothe warned.
"Believe me. I want to go home. Wait, prophecy? What do you mean by prophecy?" He asked.
She glanced at the sword at his side. Her expression relaxed and she looked relieved. Damian figured that thanks to Nico's glamour spell she was seeing it wasn't the one she had to be worried about.
"You'd be better off not asking me. I'm biased" she said absently while looking beyond him.
He looked around the side of the tavern. His eyes narrowed coldly at the black fox with yellow eyes observing him in the distance.
He looked back at her and saw a look of concern.
"I noticed that messenger the night before too," she whispered softly.
"It's native to this area right? I forgot to ask Lotte about it," He asked, though seeing her expression he got the idea that it wasn't.
"Come back to me alive and I'll hear you out." She decided.
"Wh-But! I don't have anything else to share! I just told you about my sister!" Damian argued.
"Everyone has a story or some life purpose.
Messengers of death don't observe just anyone without getting closer. I want to hear about you." She explained.
Damian opened his mouth to question her reasoning.
"You rambled about your sister. You said you 'don't want to walk away from a chance to be her brother,' that 'you'll keep being there for her even if she gets in over her head.'" she smiled the sun's rays highlighting the beauty of her smile. As if his near death experience
Damian looked perplexed. "That doesn't have any -"
"Damian! You were gone awhile! What happened!?" Lotte asked abruptly. Nico right beside her regarding Margothe curiously.
"See if you can prove your word. Maybe, we can figure out why one of Death's progenies is obsessed with you," she mused holding the knife away from him and walking away.
"I don't like ultimatums," Damian protested.
But she had walked back into the tavern a chorus of voices drowning out his last comment.
Damian looked at the other two."Will I be heard out if I say I almost died and wasn't expecting the woman to be hostile?"
"You almost died?" Lotte asked clearly in disbelief.
"What's that about ultimatums?" Nico asked.