Welcome to my first David Eddings fic. I'm normally an avid Harry Potter fanfic writer, although I do dabble in other fanfiction.  I've been a huge fan of the books for years, and I was rereading the Elenium, when this fic sprang fully-formed into my head…

            It's a simple one-shot of Ehlana's feelings after she wakes up... It's slightly confusing as it switches from first to third person narrative half way through, but bear with me – it was the only way it felt right. I hope you enjoy it! If you do, then please check out my other fiction…

Playing by the Rules

            First, there was nothing. Nothing but a faint, whispering echo of pain.

            Then nothing became everything. In an instant, there was light and sound and memory, a thousand flickering thoughts and ideas.

            And the most frequent, the most important of those thoughts was right in front of me.

            "My Knight!"

            I was appalled by the weakness, the frailty in my voice and flailing arms, but I was determined to greet my knight properly. It had been too long since I'd last seen him, long and friendless years, with only memory and hope to sustain me.

            "Oh, my Sparhawk, you have come back to me at last."

            Many times he had come back to me in my dreams, and indeed I was aware that this might be a blissful torment conjured up by my feverish imagination. I flung my arms around his neck, refusing to allow him to fade into daylight.

            As I felt the chill of his armour, smelt its rusty odour, I knew with a joyful certainty that this was no dream. With abandon, I inserted my face beneath his visor and kissed him lovingly, finally staking my claim.

            I heard Sephrenia, mischief in her voice, reprimand us. "Enough of that for now, children. Sparhawk, carry her to her chambers."

            Mildly irritated at the interruption, I turned to Sephrenia, in time to catch the fond smile and knowing wink she bestowed on me.

            And then, at last, I was in Sparhawk's arms. Ignoring his shell-shocked look, I held him close. Wishing to claim him as mine irrevocably, and rather enamoured of the idea of discomfiting him further – he was so adorable when confused – I recalled a certain ballad. Smiling impishly, I breathed the words softly onto his neck. "O, I have found thee, and I love thee, and I will not let thee go."

***

            Sparhawk was going to be a problem, Ehlana decided the following morning. His attitude towards her was not at all as she could wish it. He seemed to waver between the stern-faced teacher she remembered as a child, and a strictly proper subject, 'Your Majesty'ing her at every turn. She gave a sigh of agitation. How would she get him to see her as a prospective paramour, instead of the girl he had raised from a toddler? It was vexing, and extremely testing to her ingenuity. Furthermore, she was not even certain of her success. Determined as she was, Sparhawk had a stubborn streak several miles wide, and seemed to be deliberately making it as difficult as possible for her.

            Take the adjacent room, for example. He had argued with her for hours. And then showing up this morning in full armour! If it hadn't been for his grave face, she would have been certain he was doing this on purpose, just to irritate her.

            She was roused from her thoughts as she heard the soft footsteps of Sparhawk's approach. She gazed at him appraisingly.

            He was dressed sombrely, in black and grey. His bearing was proud and militant, and his powerful shoulders were slightly bunched, as if ready for a fight. He reminded her greatly of the silent stone lions that guarded the approach to the palace; strong and serious. He looked every inch a commander.

            Ehlana allowed her gaze to wander languorously downwards, and couldn't hold in her laughter. Despite his apparent acquiescence to her wishes, Sparhawk stubbornly retained his broadsword. It made a ridiculous contrast to his hose and doublet.

            "That's absolutely absurd, Sparhawk."

            "My Queen?"

            Slightly hurt by his coolness, she snapped, "The broadsword, Sparhawk. It's completely out of place with those clothes. Please take it off at once and wear the rapier I ordered to be provided for you."

            "If my appearance offends you, Your Majesty, I'll withdraw. The sword, however, stays where it is. I can't protect you with a knitting needle."

            This stinging her temper into action, Ehlana, eyes flashing, began to berate him. "You – "

            "My decision, Ehlana," he cut in. From his tone she knew he wouldn't budge. "Your safety is my responsibility, and the steps I take to ensure it are not open to discussion."

            His dark eyes met hers, a challenge clear in them. His gaze was confident, stone and steel, with absolutely no intention of yielding.

            A shiver of excitement flowing down her spine, Ehlana's temper rescinded. She loved him so much! Why could he not love her?

            "So stern and unbending, my champion," she said softly.

            "Where Your Majesty's safety is concerned, yes."

            Ehlana swiftly changed tactics. Fluttering her eyelashes, she gazed up at him  through them. "But why are we arguing, my knight?" Her soft smile was luminous.

            Abruptly, Sparhawk shifted from stubborn-minded protector to the equally stern tutor she had fallen in love with at the age of five.

            "Don't do that, Ehlana. You're the queen, not some coy chambermaid trying to get her own way. Don't ask or try to be charming. Command."

            Ehlana almost sighed in exasperation. Would you love me if I commanded you? Would you marry me? Aloud, she returned to the matter at hand. "Would you take off the sword if I commanded you to, Sparhawk?"

            "No, but the usual rules don't apply to me."

            Ah. I thought so. "Who decided that?"

            "I did. We can send for the Earl of Lenda if you'd like. He's well versed in the law, and can give us his opinion on the matter."

            "But if he decides against you, you'll ignore him, won't you?"

            "Yes."

            "That's not fair, Sparhawk."

            "I'm not trying to be fair, my Queen."

            Not trying to be fair, Ehlana thought. Now there's an idea. I need to stop playing by the rules. Her fertile mind working through various possibilities, she replied distractedly, "Sparhawk, when we're alone like this, do you suppose we could dispense with the "Your Majestys" and "My Queens"? I do have a name, after all, and you weren't afraid to use it when I was a child."

            Slightly taken aback, and looking rather dubious, Sparhawk agreed. "As you wish."

            But Ehlana, eyes glinting in amusement, was not satisfied. "Say it, Sparhawk. Say Ehlana. It's not a hard name, and I'm sure you won't choke on it."

            Sparhawk's chiselled face split into a smile. Cares and burdens disappeared from him, and like the sun appearing from behind dark clouds, Ehlana knew everything was going to be all right.

            Her eyes glittered in triumph as he graciously gave up. "All right, Ehlana."

            She beamed. Start as we mean to go on, she thought. Everything was more than OK… It was perfect.