Prompt# 327 - Rough - The Motherless Ones - Tekia - The Avengers

[tekia.livejournal.com]

Title: The Motherless Ones
Fandom: The Avengers
Prompt: Rough
Warnings: none
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Even in the ancient world, there were things to Avenge.

Stev narrowed his eyes against the harsh sun, holding his breath as he listened to the silence around him. The trees were still and even the wild creatures were as still as stone, as if all of the world was paying attention to Stev and his every move.
Since his change, since he went from a tiny, sickly youth to a robust leader of men, it seemed like everybody was always watching him. He had mostly grown used to it. Mostly.
And when he couldn’t, he found his escape far away from his new tribe. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them, but it took a lot to adjust to a whole new way of life. This tribe was much farther south than his own tribe had ever traveled, and the heat from the desert was always so oppressive. He could see the waves of heat raising from the ground, and had Nic not taught him the tricks of ignoring the dangers of the desert, he could easily imagine that those waves of heat was a pool of fresh cool water.
He swallowed hard and turned his eyes back to the thick knot of trees crowding the small pool that was really there. An antelope had arrived at the pool, her white tail twitching with nerves as she lowered her head to the cool water. Two small monkeys were also at the pool, one lazing under a tree with the other in the tree, keeping an eye on Stev.
Stev gripped the spear in his hand tight, felt his knuckles turn white with the pressure and let loose his breath in a slow exhale. His shoulders tightened and his muscles tensed as he readied to attack. One smooth throw and the spear would arch through the air and embed itself into the heart of the beast before it knew it was in any danger.
Easy as breathing, once one knew how to throw a spear with the intent to kill. Once the goddess had blessed Stev, it all came easy to him. He lifted the spear, took one step and froze when the antelope dropped, a short feathered dart protruding from its chest. It twitched twice before it lost too much blood to keep its heart beating.
Stev dropped to the brush, eyes searching the small oasis for the new threat.
Someone cried out in victory, sending birds fleeing and the monkeys screeching away. Stev pulled his spear to his chest. Against a human, he didn’t think he could make himself kill. Not ever again. The very thought twisted his nerves in his gut.
A man emerged from the brush nearly opposite from Stev, dressed only in his breechcloth, the sweat from the heat shining in the sunlight. The man was much darker than Stev, black curls cut short on his head and his face hair was cut smartly around his mouth, and skin a golden color that was so prominent in this part of the Mother’s Lands. He held a strange curved stick in his hand as he rushed over to the fallen antelope.
He pulled the dart free and inspected it.
Then he cursed and dropped to his knees and begun digging in the bloody wound.
Seeing the man distracted, Stev stood and called out to catch the man’s attention. He turned on his heel, hands coated with blood, dark eyes wide.
“Where did you come from?” He slowly stood, the dark hanging loosely from his fingers, something small hidden in the palm of his free hand. He looked strangely familiar to Stev, but he knew he had never met him before.
Stev motioned behind him, to his hiding space, as he approached. “How did you kill it? I didn’t see the-“ He paused to stare down at the odd staff in his hand.
The man grinned, his whole face lighting up, and held it up. “I built it myself. See, this here slots into this groove and,” he turned to face the open expanse of the savanna stretching out beyond them. He held the staff with the dart over his shoulder and launched it out. The dart soared up and away, much farther than even Stev could throw his own large, bulky spear.
“That’s amazing!”
“It really is. I’m just now trying to find a way to keep the dart from breaking off in the bone.” He looked down at the carcass at their feet. He held out the arrowhead he had dug out of the antelope’s chest.
Stev plucked the small stone out of his hand and wiped the blood away with his thumb. “This workmanship is exquisite.”
“I know.”
Stev’s eyes flicked up to see the man smiling smugly. “Your work?”
“I am the best at what I do.”
“And you build things.”
“I do.”
“Beautiful things.” He was still caressing the arrowhead, his fingers following the curve and sharp edge. The flat of the stone had a carving of a large cat, the artwork so fine that he could make out the whiskers on its face.
“Bah,” he said, “That’s nothing. This!” He held out the small staff for Stev to inspect. “This is beautiful. This will change everything.”
Stev held the light object, inspecting it from tip to tip. It was only as large as the length of his arm, light, and simple in design. “May I?”
“Oh,” the man dug in a quiver at his hip and pulled another dart free. He stepped close to show Stev how to load the dart. His breath fanned Stev’s cheek as he explained how to hold the thing over his shoulder, how to launch it.
Stev launched the dart and, due to the Mother’s blessing, he mastered the launch. The other man cried out in thrilled pleasure with the results and raced after the dart, talking rapidly about how pleased he was with his new weapon.
Stev followed. “Truly it’s amazing.” He held out his hand, bracelets with bone and stone and shell beads proclaiming his heritage and acceptance into Nic’s tribe. “I am called Stev.”
The man’s eyes studied his charms a moment before switching his recovered dart into his opposite hand, freeing up his own charms. He grasped Stev’s forearm in greeting, his grip firm. Stev noted that they both wore the bone charm from Nic’s tribe. “Antony.”
“I haven’t seen you before,” Stev commented, eyes on the bone charm. Antony turned Stev’s arm in his hand, inspecting the other charms and beads.
“No, I was in my cave, working on these darts. Hawkeye asked me to make them special in return for a portion of his kill.” His lips twisted up and his eyes met Stev’s. “I think I got the better end of that bargain.”
Stev chuckled. He had seen Hawkeye’s take, and had been very impressed. “He brought back a lion two nights past.”
Antony’s eyes widened. “I missed that!? Damn.” He dropped Stev’s hand and Stev’s arm felt cold where his rough fingers had gripped him. He rubbed his other hand idly over his arm as he watched Antony search for the first dart.
“You build the tribe’s weapons?”
“And tools. Anything you need?”
Stev held up the new tool. “One of these.”
Antony spun on his heel to grin at him, his eyes alight. “You like it? You’ll use it?”
Stev nodded. He held his own spear up. “It’ll be less bulky than this thing.” He glanced back at the dead antelope. “And useful. I didn’t even see you throw this.”
Antony snatched his dart thrower out of Stev’s hand and spun it. “It’s marvelous. It’s accurate and it’s got distance, and they prey never knows you’re there.” He swooped down to snatch up the first dart and loaded it. “Lion nothing. With this in Hawkeye’s hand, he’ll bring the birds out of the sky.”
Stev went back to the antelope. The buck was far too large for Antony to carry back to the settlement, so Stev hoisted it over one shoulder and turned back to the settlement. After a moment, Antony fell into step beside him.
“You’re from up north, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
Antony nodded. “My father travelled down from that direction when he was still young. Stark was his name.”
Stev paused, and Antony walked forward a few more steps before he realized that Stev had stopped walking. “Stark? I knew a man by that name. He too built tools. That’s why you look so familiar.”
Antony turned to blink at him. “That was many years ago that he lived there. How,” he started to ask before his eyes went wide. “You’re that Stev. The one the Mother blessed.”
Stev nodded.
“You were lost to the Mother’s embrace.” Then the stunned look left Antony’s face, replaced by that animated grin that Stev was quickly learning to like. “But the Mother saved you, didn’t she?”
“I suppose. Why did your father travel here?”
Antony shrugged. “Because Nic was here? Nic and Dad were cohorts, always plotting something. I guess after you were taken by the Mother, the north had too many memories for him to remain. He came here, mated with my mother, then there was me.” He grinned again, teeth flashing white behind his black face hair.
“Your father?”
“Died many seasons ago. An accident during a hunt.”
They left the easy cover of the oasis and stepped out onto the open savanna, dry grass crunching under their feet. Habitually, Stev searched the landscape for predators. Finding none, he moved forward toward the faint lines of smoke winding their way up into the sky. A monkey screamed at them from the trees, confidant now that they had their backs to the oasis.
“Is it true you fought the brutes of the north? The Motherless Ones? Father used to tell stories of your adventures over the night fires. Half the time I didn’t know if he were telling the truth or making it all up. I’ve never seen a Motherless One, but even Nic says that they are numerous in the north.”
“They were. When I was there.” Stev didn’t want to remember the Motherless Ones. They were massive in form, intelligent in ways the Children of the Mother couldn’t understand, and hungry for meat, any and all meat. His dear friend Bucky…
Squeezing his eyes shut against the remembered pain of loss, Stev pushed the thoughts away. “I’m sure every story your father told was truth. I did fight them in hopes of saving my tribe.”
Antony nodded. “And you did. My father said that you chased them all off before the Mother took you.”
“I am glad to hear that. I’m glad that my people hadn’t suffered their attacked after I was gone.”
They could make out the shapes of the canopies from their tribesmen. Suddenly Antony stopped walking and pointed. “Look, Nat is coming our way.”
Indeed, Stev could make out the bright flash of red hair as the pale northern woman raced in their direction. She caught sight of them and veered off toward them, one arm waving for their attention, the other pointing behind her back toward the settlement. If she were shouting, the words were lost on the wind.
Antony raced out to meet her and Stev dropped the kill to follow. “What happened?”
Antony caught her, pulling her to a stop and she took a moment to catch her breath. “Runners from the north,” she said around her pants. “Word from Bruc.”
“Bruc?” Antony said, surprise in his voice. “Where’d he get a runner from?”
“He’s met up with a tribe ten days to the north, following the coast. Their people are ill and the illness is spreading.”
Together they began jogging back toward the settlement, Antony’s kill forgotten in light of these new events.
“Did they let the runner into the settlement? What am I saying? Bruc wouldn’t have sent an ill runner.” He shook his head. “He must be working to help them, but why send a runner?”
“To warn us?” Stev asked.
“I doubt it. A messenger would have worked just as well, but a runner? Something else is going on here.”
“Nic spoke with the man. He said to me there was more than just the illness at hand.”
Antony’s lips went thin and they didn’t speak again until they reached the settlement.
All the people had gathered in one spot and the trio had to fight their way to the front where Nic was standing with a stranger. Stev let Nat and Antony go ahead of him, feeling out of place with the leaders off the tribe despite how they had looked to him as a leader time and again. It wasn’t his place.
“What comes from the north,” Antony asked in greeting. Nic turned his one eye on Antony and glared.
“I hope you succeeded in perfecting your new toy Starkson, because we’re being hunted.”
A sob rose up from somewhere behind Stev and he felt his skin shiver over his muscles. He took a step forward. “The Motherless Ones?”
Nic’s glare turned toward him. “No, we’re hunted by our own people now. To the north there is a village that has outgrown its support structure.” He began leading them away from the women and children, out of their hearing. “Bruc has warned us that they set out to spread illness to settlements, and when the people are weak, they come in and kill those that resist and take the rest to work until death supporting them.”
Stev could feel Nat fairly vibrating with rage beside him. Antony’s hold on his weapon had turned his knuckles white he was gripping it so tightly.
“Bruc’s doing what he can to help Coul’s people, but they don’t have a chance if they’re attacked. He’s asked for help from us.” Nic’s eye was on Antony, waiting, but Antony didn’t seem to notice, eyes downcast and lips white with rage.
Stev stepped forward. “I’ll go. Mother’s Children fighting each other isn’t right. Maybe I can speak with them?”
Nat and Nic both looked at him. Nic shook his head. “I doubt it will work, but you can try. Mother would never forgive us if we didn’t try.” He glanced back at Antony. “Will you go with him?”
“I will,” Nat said right away.
“I will too,” Hawkeye said, appearing at Stev’s side so suddenly that Stev jumped in his skin. “He’ll need someone to watch his back. People that hunt other people are not to be trusted,” he said, dark eyes on Stev, daring him to contradict him. Stev couldn’t find it in himself to disagree.
They all looked to Antony, still silent. He nodded once and pulled the quiver from his belt and held it out to Hawkeye. “I’ll need to stop back at my cave and pick up more darts. We’re going to need them.”