Title: Under The Table
Author: homesweethomicide13
Rating: T
Pairing: BardaLindal
Warning: Drunkenness.
Disclaimer: Ah, how fun it would be if I owned them…
Summary: Ever wonder how Barda ended up moving to Broome? After an argument with Lindal, they decide to settle it by playing a little drinking game…
Under The Table
"I don't see why I have to move." Barda scowled. "I've lived in Del all my life." Lindal raised her eyebrow at him.
"And I've lived in Broome all my life. Why should I move?" She shot back, causing him to scowl further. "Listen buddy, you want to marry me, so you've got to make some sacrifices." It was Barda's turn to raise an eyebrow.
"If I recall, you were the one who said yes." He reminded her. She rolled her eyes but couldn't think of a comeback. "Why don't you want to leave Broome? Isn't the woman supposed to move in with the man?"
"That may have been your ways, palace boy," Lindal growled, "but in Broome it was all a matter of dominance."
"Dominance?" Barda questioned, deliberately ignoring her 'palace boy' remark.
"Aye. Whoever was less dominant had to move." Lindal shrugged. "It's been that way for… well, forever, I suppose." She shot him a pointed look. "And besides, I have the upper hand here. I actually own a house."
"So do I." Barda replied bluntly.
"A palace doesn't count." Lindal laughed. "It's not yours." Barda opened his mouth to respond, but she held up a hand to stop him. "Save it, old bear. You're not going to win this one." He frowned.
"Well if you're so stubborn about this, why don't we settle it fairly?" He suggested.
"How?"
"I don't know. You mentioned dominance earlier. Perhaps we could do something like that." He shrugged. Lindal frowned for a moment, before her eyes lit up and she smiled in a way that made Barda regret his words.
"I have the perfect solution." She stood up from where they were sat in the forge kitchen. "Come with me." Curious, he stood up and followed her up to the palace. She made her way to the kitchens and motioned to the table. "Sit." He cursed himself as he did so, hoping she didn't notice how she had control over him. She was rummaging through the cupboards, obviously searching for something, and then she held up a large bottle of dark brown liquid with a triumphant grin.
"Is that… whiskey?" Barda asked in surprise.
"Yep." She sat down opposite him and set the bottle and two small glasses between them. "Here's the deal. There are three more bottles in that cupboard. No one else drinks whiskey here except for Doom, and so… we'll settle our argument with a drinking challenge. We'll each fill up these glasses with whiskey and down them straight, and then refill them. By the time we get to the last bottle – if we make it that far – whoever is more drunk loses. The winner gets to stay in their own home, and the loser has to move. Agreed?" Barda smirked. He may not have had much experience with straight whiskey, but he knew how to handle his drink. Several years as a palace guard had taught him that.
"Agreed." He watched as she poured out the whiskey into both glasses. "But I have to warn you, Lindal, I can handle my drink." She smiled at that. "And whiskey is a man's drink, you sure you can take it?" Her smile didn't falter. She picked up her glass and emptied it in a matter of seconds.
"You sure you can take me?" She laughed. Barda's eyes widened. He hadn't expected that at all. He picked up his own glass and stared into the brown liquid. When was the last time he'd drank this? All he could remember was that it had been a very dangerous night – he and several other guards had woken up in the makeshift bunks in the guards' quarters covered in scratches and bruises, and strangely enough, mud. "What's wrong? Rethinking the challenge?" Lindal's teasing brought him back to the present and he realized that she was already waiting with a newly filled glass, and he had yet to drink from his first. Deciding that he was not going to let a woman out drink him, he lifted the glass to his lips and tipped it back. He felt the familiar burn at the back of his throat and sucked in cool air in an attempt to remove it.
"No way." He smirked. "A challenge is a challenge." She grinned as she refilled his glass.
"You sure? You don't know what you're getting yourself into."
"Do you?" Barda shot back with a grin. Lindal simply lifted her glass in the air.
"Let's begin." He nodded and knocked his glass against hers before they both swiftly emptied them again.
Some Many Hours Later
Neither of them could remember when they'd ditched the glasses and just taken a bottle each, but they sat on the floor of the palace kitchen, backs against the cold marble wall, and a bottle of whiskey in their hands. Both bottles were half-empty already, and two more empty bottles lay on their sides on top of the table.
They were both clearly drunk, but it wasn't obvious as to who was more drunk, and thus the challenge was still ongoing. Both were determined to be the winner. After all, both were determined not to be the one who moved cities.
"Y'know… you can 'andle your drink well." Barda said to Lindal, slurring heavily. She let out an uncharacteristic giggle.
"So c'n you." She leant on his shoulder, her face incredibly close to his. He smiled drunkenly.
"I likes you drunk, Lindal." He murmured. "I has to get you drunk more often." She giggled again and lifted her free hand to lay it on his cheek.
"You're pretty." She whispered. If Barda had been sober, he would have easily held back the blush that exploded over his face at her words. But, alas, he was very drunk, and therefore could not stop it. There was silence for a moment before she sat up straight once more and drank deeply from her bottle of whiskey.
"How comes I gots more than you?" Barda whined, holding up his bottle. Lindal laughed.
"Cause you's not been drinkin' it." She tipped his bottle towards his lips with her free hand. "Drink!" He did as she demanded, downing the rest of the bottle in one. He instantly regretted it. The room was spinning and his head felt light. "Was matter?" Lindal laughed. She downed her bottle quickly. "C'mon." She grabbed onto the table and lifted herself up, using the big wooden table as support. Barda tried to copy her but stumbled and fell to his knees again. Both of them erupted in laughter. She helped him to his feet and they slung their arms around each other, both for support and because they wanted to be close.
"I fink we should go up." Barda slurred, pointing upwards to emphasise his point. She nodded.
"Alrigh'." They stumbled out of the kitchen, leaving their empty bottles behind, and made their way towards the stairs that would take them up to their bedchambers. It took them a long time to make it up the first flight, and as they attempted to walk up the second flight, they both tripped and fell face-first onto the carpeted stairs. They were in hysterics as they scrambled upright, and kept on laughing as they fell back down again. Deciding that standing up wasn't going to work; Barda began crawling up the stairs on his hands and knees. "Hey, tha's good idea." Lindal laughed, copying him. They made it to the top and helped each other stand up.
They stumbled along the hallway, most likely disturbing everyone in the palace, until they reached Barda's bedchamber.
"So I guess this is g'night." Lindal murmured. She turned to stumble off to her own chamber, but Barda's hold on her waist tightened and he pulled her close.
"Stay here." He whispered.
"I can't… it's wrong." She protested, but the smile on her face said otherwise. He grinned and pressed his forehead to hers. They were so close that they could each feel the other's breath on their faces. "Well… if ya insist." She muttered. Barda's grin widened and he opened the door, stumbling backwards into the room beyond.
Neither remembered the door closing, or how they managed to make it to the bed without falling over, and they didn't remember falling down on top of the bed either. Barda lay with his head on Lindal's stomach and her hands in his hair. A calm quiet settled over them, before Barda sighed in content.
"Lindal?"
"Hmm?"
"You win." He murmured as sleep overtook his body. Just as she, too, drifted into sleep, a smile crossed her face.
The Next Morning
Lindal cursed as a wave of pain shot through her skull. Just how much had she drunk last night? She became aware of a slight pressure on her stomach and lifted her head – painfully – to see what it was. And she smiled. Barda was still sleeping peacefully, head resting on her stomach. She stroked her fingers through his hair softly, remembering his last words to her last night. She stilled her hand as she tried to recall the rest of the evening.
"Why'd you stop?" A low murmur came from what she had assumed was a sleeping Barda, and she watched as he shifted position so he could look at her. A smile crossed his face. "Morning."
"Morning." She replied, shifting the hand in his hair so it would rest on his cheek. He leant into the touch and closed his eyes again. "Do you remember anything from last night?"
"Not much. I remember a few things. There were stairs. We fell over them. Then we crawled up them." Lindal laughed quietly. "And I have a killer headache." There was a faint knock on the door before it opened, and Lief, Sharn, Doom and Jasmine walked in.
"So that's where the culprits got to." Doom said, raising his eyebrows. "Drink enough whiskey last night?"
"… Oops." Barda muttered. "Maybe we should have cleared the empty bottles away before we left."
"I highly doubt we would have thought of that at the time." Lindal laughed, and then winced. Hangovers were such a bitch.
"So… why were you drinking last night?" Lief asked. He was mildly annoyed that he'd missed a drunk Barda. That would have been very amusing to watch.
"Just a challenge." Barda smiled. "Which reminds me. I'll need help packing up my things."
"What? Why?" Jasmine asked, shocked. Barda turned to Lindal and grinned.
"I'm moving to Broome." He murmured. Lindal grinned. "Because I found a woman who can easily drink me under the table."
"Well next time you feel like challenging each other, don't use my whiskey!" Doom hissed, storming out of the room. Barda and Lindal simply laughed. No one had said anything about them being in the same room, let alone the same bed, and they guessed it was because they were due to be married, in any case. Barda reached up and linked his fingers with Lindal's. He couldn't wait until their wedding. She was the perfect woman for him.
He'd just make sure he didn't play any drinking games with her.