Yardie (prime)/The Quickest Way To The Heart
Mist Harbor - Draelor’s Home
Medijine sat on the wooden chair, trembling nervously as the Faendryl approached her. His dark hands had been coated in a white film with blotches of red that coalesced at the tip of the knife he brandished. The cloth in front of him shared similar crimson stains of an intense battle. “Oh no, we’re not done here, my little Spinnerette,” he said coolly, with the slightest hint of a smirk on his face. “We are just getting started.”
The young girl bit her lip and blushed, her freckles shifting into a constellation of concern. “Please, Mister Yardie,” Medijine pleaded. “No more.”
“Can’t you see the girl has had enough,” Draelor chimed. Vaerno, his trusty companion, confirmed the Aelotoi’s words with a sharp bark.
But those pleas fell on deaf ears. Yardie approached the table, his fingers twirling the hint of the blade with rapt precision. He spoke with a silky tone to his deep voice. “Ready?”
The girl closed her eyes, wincing at the two crunching noises that flooded her ears, the knife working as intended. She could not bear to look as her senses had been overrun. A soft tap in front of where she sat forced her eyes open, her gaze widening at what was placed before her.
It was a slice of cherry pie. She groaned and rubbed the tiny lump on her belly.
“”How much are you going to feed the girl,” Draelor inquired.
“Yardie wiped the excess flour and filling from his hands with a white cloth. “She needs nourishment. Plus, if a full stomach sheds away the dread from the island’s woes, then it is all the better for it.”
“Sweets will slow her movements, her reflexes.”
Yardie shook his head. “She’s anything but.”
Medijine took the fork and pierced through the flaky, golden brown crust. Red filling oozed from the sandwiched layer of baked goodness, the ratio balanced with mathematical precision. Tiny teeth bit into the morsel, and tart cherry flavor greeted her, evoking a warm smile.
“And she likes it, brother,” Yardie added.
Draelor shook his head. “You are a strange one. First, massages and painting nails. Now it is fishing and baking.” The poker face hidden behind the tuft of shabby hair showed a fissure of emotion. “Don’t you have Pale Esther work?”
“It’s Palestra,” Yardie corrected with a sneer. A worried look followed ominously, and those violet eyes stared at his moccasins. “And I have yet to be contracted. I anticipate that will be soon.” Yardie took in the young girl, whose foreboding melted away as she indulged in the pastry. The Faendryl took Faerinn Greatsinger’s words to heart, giving the dark skinned a slice of innocence, of childhood, of love. She had lost too much too soon, and needed people to care for her. That’s why he placed her in the home and care of his brother, still on the island, but safe, protected. He eyed the Aelotoi suspiciously while asking Medijine. “Draelor taking care of you?”
She nodded. “He make me pick herbs, run, and practice wrestle with Vaerno.”
Yardie turned his attention to his brother with an intense look.
“Vaerno insisted,” Draelor replied with a nonchalant shrug.
“Right,” Yardie said skeptically, though he knew the truth in Draelor’s words. Vaerno operated on his own accord. He shifted his gaze to the young girl. “Well, enjoy the time here. Draelor will keep you safe.” The Aelotoi nodded.
“Thank you, Mister Yardie,” the girl said, her mouth coated with the red remnants of a consumed pie. She smiled, her eyes twinkling with the spectre of a child entombed in a heart of pain and loss.
Yardie nodded. “I’ll be off now. I’ve some…business to attend to.” He planted a soft kiss on Medijine’s forehead, then bowed to his brother before making his exit. “And save some room for blackberry cobbler tomorrow!” he added as he stepped out of the home, his departure marked with a pair of groans.