Story takes place in an AU where Leila didn't die on Dread Isle. That is all.


Home

Matthew's hand caught his stumble, grabbing for support on the stone wall. A hacking cough deposited flecks of blood on the floor.

"Sir…are you supposed to be here?" an Ostian soldier said kindly.

He smothered a laugh, knowing it would only be pain to his body. The state of him had to look horrid.

Matthew's leg gave out and he tumbled to the floor. The soldier called for some of his friends and felt for a pulse at the spy's neck. Coarse hands grabbed the soldier's as Matthew leaned up and rasped, "Bring me to Hector."

(…)

The soldier didn't bring him to Hector. Instead, Matthew felt the warmth of a healing staff and the familiar voice of its holder.

"You look like shit, Matthew," Serra frowned, working her staff as if it were a part of her.

Now Matthew allowed himself a laugh, and found it hurt less than he expected. "I went and got old. Where is Hector?"

"Matthew, you've been gone for months! At least answer—"

"No time." Matthew grunted as he tried to get off the bed. His arms betrayed him, and he collapsed back on the bed.

"You're staying right here, mister." Serra's growl was almost motherly. Almost. "You have cuts and scrapes all over your body, a fever and what seems to be two arrowheads embedded in your back. And whatever this atrocious thing you're calling a beard is."

He decided not to tell her he'd forgotten a razor when he'd first left and resorted to managing his facial hair with a blunt dagger. No, it was funnier this way.

"What do you think the missus will think?"

Serra gasped. "Leila is going to be so—"

Footsteps crashed into the room as Hector's hulking form burst through the doors. "Matthew?" His voice betrayed all of his worry. Matthew spared himself a chuckle. The marquess would have made a terrible spy.

"Good afternoon, your lordship," Matthew said through a smile. "I'd get up, but I'm afraid that's beyond me right now."

"Matthew, where have you been all these months? You said you had something to investigate for a few weeks, not—"

"Forgive me, my lord, but something came up." Matthew did his best to lean himself up. He floundered until Serra helped him up. "We can spare time for pleasantries later. Bern is coming."

"What?" Hector said, aghast.

Matthew nodded. "They've recovered and regrouped from their excursions into Sacae and Ilia. They're coming to destroy Lycia next."

"Matthew, are you sure—"

"My lord, I rode three horses to death on my way back here. I snuck through enemy camps because it was quicker to do so than to go around. Urgency brought me here to give you as much warning as I could."

Hector nodded, stroking his beard. "I understand. Get some rest, Matthew. It seems I have much to take care of."

And with that, the most powerful man in Lycia exited the room. Serra turned to Matthew. He saw through her façade, and saw fear. "They're coming?"

Matthew nodded. "Can you tell Leila I'm here?"

Serra nodded. "She should already be on her way here. As soon as I realized it was you under than thing you call a beard, I sent for her."

His smile had her blush. "I appreciate it, Serra. Even the jibe at my beard."

She smiled at him in a way only Serra could. "Oh, I knew that already."

He rolled his eyes, but any further remarks were held back at the sound of a door opening.

Matthew barely heard Serra's voice saying something about leaving. His gaze was locked on the woman of his dreams.

Leila sauntered over to the place Serra had been sitting. She stared at him for a moment before saying, "You look like shit, Matthew."

A laugh racked his body. "Will that ruin my opportunity for a kiss?"

Her lips were on his just as the sentence left his mouth. Matthew didn't mind, though. Leila had that effect on him.

She broke it off first, but didn't pull away. "I saw Hector storming past on my way. Bad news, I take it?"

Matthew nodded. "Pardon my selfishness, but can we table that discussion for a few more minutes?"

Leila smiled, and pulled back the rest of the way. Her hands clutched his and what strength he had returned the gesture.

"Matthew, you don't know how I've missed you."

He grinned. "Oh Leila, it's good to be home."


Author Notes: I didn't plan this. I didn't plan out a damn thing for this story. I was just talking to my friend Kris about this and just wrote it.

So if it doesn't flow all too well, my bad! Just sorta blurted this all out onto the page.