So, that was hardly a few days. But… Christmas happened…. Happy 2015, peeps! 8D
In other news, I've had to split the story up again, because I found myself again at 8K and STIIIIILL hadn't finished. So, um… There will be a third chapter. Hopefully, there won't be a fourth…
Also, references to the anime. As soon as the episodes of Forests of Silence end, Jasmine gives Lief a snarky grin and tells him not to fall in love with her—and Lief begins sputtering indignantly, and Barda kind of laughs at him because he can see where this is going.
Also-also, there is a charming reference to the Three Doors trilogy, for those who are familiar with it. It is an obscure one. It is also a name. ;D
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It was sunlight that woke Barda, as the sun rose just enough that its light beamed though a window and straight into his face. It was faintly irritating, because he had woken from the best, most pleasant and restful sleep he had enjoyed in long months. He grimaced, only half awake, and turned over to face away from the light—
Only to find warm skin in his arms, and soft breath on his chest. Startled, wondering if he was still sleeping, he slowly opened his eyes.
It was Lindal, still sleeping peacefully and comfortably as a cat. In spite of the morning coolness, the patterned blanket only reaching her waist, exposing so much of her to the light. As his arms fell around her, she stirred slightly and cuddled into him for warmth. She sighed softly, and smiled faintly, but she didn't wake up.
A flood of hazy memories came back to him. For a split second, Barda was mortified, though he knew there was no reason why he should be. It wasn't as if he had sworn any solemn vow of chastity, after all; not as part of his military training, or to himself. But it was so unlike anything he would have expected from himself. It had been a lapse in judgment, a lapse in self-control. He had broken no rule or law or promise; but he felt that he had been exceptionally foolish, and it almost made him flinch.
In the next instant, his very manly heart was filled with awe as he kept staring at Lindal's sleeping face. Suddenly, as memories from the previous night slowly came into focus, there was no time left for regret or embarrassment. All he felt was well satisfied, and oddly, completely content.
And it seemed that she felt very much the same.
Still in a haze, slightly dazzled by the beautiful woman beside him, he reached up and gently touched her face. The action was almost involuntary. If he had been more himself, he never would have done such a thing.
Barda expected her to go on sleeping peacefully in his arms, and honestly would have liked that very much. Instead, Lindal stirred again. She frowned slightly and sighed sharply, apparently annoyed to have been touched unexpectedly in her sleep again. Her eyes fluttered open, deep hazel but still heavy with sleep, and she regarded him blankly for a moment.
And then, as she, too, remembered what they had shared in the night, she gave him a warm smile.
"Good morning, my bear," she grumbled, trying and failing to bite back a yawn.
Lacking words, he simply smiled back and held her close, letting his hand trail down her bare side as he reached for the blanket. As warm as she was to him, he imagined she must be cold.
It was another thing he had never experienced in a long life of experiencing unusual things. Never before had he been moved to care for anything or anyone so carefully. Not even his mother, who had always been such a fiery woman, and refused to allow her only son to coddle her like a baby. Not even Lief, not even when he had been a small child, always bruising his shins and skinning his elbows and generally getting into unimaginable trouble. Not even Jasmine, not even when she had been injured, poisoned, held at knife point, or simply misplaced. That wasn't the way to treat independent folk, who had the strength, independence, and wit to take care of themselves. And such treatment certainly never made a person stronger. It was far from his nature to handle anyone with such delicacy.
And now, suddenly, he was moved to do so for Lindal—undoubtedly the strongest, fiercest, most independent woman he had ever known! She needed such treatment less than anyone he could think of. He was slightly surprised that she hadn't pushed him away and scolded him for treating her like a damsel. In fact, she seemed to be relishing his care. Which was good, because he suddenly felt an overwhelming need to treat her gently, tenderly, as if she were made of glass.
To protect her, and keep her safe, even though there was nothing here to protect her from. Because, he finally realized, his heart found her precious beyond belief.
Even though he didn't speak a word of his reasoning out loud, he was sure that she understood. She certainly didn't seem to mind. As he pulled the blanket over her bare shoulders, she snuggled against him, folded her arms against his chest, and nuzzled his face. He caressed her arm, able to feel every solid muscle under her skin—sculpted by hard work and probably angels—and when she giggled with delight at his touch, he couldn't help but laugh softly with her. It was infectious.
She was so strong and so powerful. Suddenly, though, she was also so delicate, and so feminine. It had been hard to believe that she could be both. But now that he saw it for himself, he could see that she balanced the warrior and the woman with grace, unafraid and unashamed of anything she was.
"So," he commented, "you're red-headed."
Lindal snorted with laughter. "Auburn, really," she corrected. "Why else do you think my tattoos are red?"
They shared another laugh over that. It was one of her own many secrets, which only a very brave and worthy man could ever have discovered—though her head was shaved, the rest of her was decidedly not. Barda couldn't quite believe how accidentally he had stumbled upon it, or how gladly she had shared it.
Lindal sighed deeply and let her head rest on his shoulder. "Last night… That was quite the adventure. I don't think we had nearly as much fun at Dragon's Nest."
"I certainly preferred last night," he agreed. "Although, I hope I didn't offend you in any way."
"No," she said carelessly, "no, you didn't. You've never done this either, have you?"
"Was it obvious?"
"I was too busy worrying about myself to notice. Really, I had worried at first that you might be upset when I wasn't… Better… I had thought I was prepared; and then I found that I had no idea what I was doing."
"That makes two of us, then," he said, kissing her forehead. "Not being awful at something is the first step toward being halfway decent at something, after all."
She smirked at his words. "If nothing else, you are quick to learn," she teased. "Well, I am quick to learn, myself."
He smirked back, immensely pleased by her words. "I thought you knew all the dances of Broome."
"Not this one, it seems."
"Then perhaps we will practice again, this evening. Perhaps sooner."
"Ooh," she sighed, "I would like that very much."
She made a thoughtful face, and let her eyes wander to the ceiling as an idea came to her. Then they flicked right back to him.
"Are you hungry?" she asked abruptly. "Because I'm certain I could eat that ruby beast alive and whole. All of a sudden, I'm starving."
Barda thought about it and realized that she was completely right. He felt ravenous, and couldn't understand how he hadn't noticed until just now. Still puzzling over this, he nodded vaguely and mumbled in agreement.
Lindal looked pleased. "Then we should rise and make ourselves something to eat. And, as it happens, I have an old family recipe I'd like to share with you."
"Oh, is that so? What is it?"
Lindal pushed herself up and beamed at him mischievously. "It's a surprise. You'll just have to get up and come see for yourself, now won't you?"
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Not too long thereafter, Lief was also woken—not by sunlight streaming into his face, but by the sound of pots and pans clattering in the kitchen, and also the sound of pleasant, if not loud conversation nearby. Not quite ready to wake up, he tried to roll over on his other side, and found right away that he couldn't. Something was heavy on his arm, and wrapped around his waist, pinning him down.
An instinctive bolt of panic shot through his mind. His eyes flew open and he gasped in surprise, on the verge of crying out. But he immediately relaxed, and memories of the present came back to him. It was only Jasmine, who had fallen asleep in his arms on the couch last night.
Lief mentally smacked himself on the forehead. They had meant only to doze for a short time, just until Barda and Lindal came back. They had expected their older friends to wake them, perhaps scold them for the sticky sweet picture they made, and then herd them off to their beds. Instead, they had been left to spend the night there.
If he had been more awake, he would have found that very odd. Instead, he was mostly just aware of the stiffness in the side he had slept on all night, Jasmine's gentle breathing, and a warm, delicious smell that was wafting from the kitchen. It was so familiar. Almost like…
Jasmine gasped suddenly, and her eyes flew open in surprise. She looked right up at him with a stunned expression, and for a split second he was afraid that she was angry with him for letting her fall asleep on the couch.
"Lief, I smell pancakes."
Relieved that she wasn't angry, just hungry, he smiled and nodded. "I was just thinking the same thing," he mumbled lamely, wondering at how unsurprised she was. "And it sounds like Lindal and Barda are having a party. I wonder, what are they doing in there?"
Jasmine made an odd face. "….I imagine they're making pancakes."
In another time, Lief would have been exasperated with her frankness. Today, he found that it warmed his heart and brought a pleasant smile to his face. She didn't seemed to understand why he was smiling suddenly, because she looked a little puzzled. But the puzzlement quickly passed, and she smiled back.
"Is it morning? We slept all night on the couch? Why didn't they wake us?" she asked, frowning slightly as she finally realized where she was.
Lief shrugged and slowly eased his arm from beneath her, so he could sit up. "I have no idea. Maybe they were just tired, and they stumbled off to bed without noticing us."
"And they did drink a lot last night," Jasmine commented, sitting up beside him. "I know I saw Barda refill his flagon twice, and I'm sure he did so other times I didn't see. I don't think I've ever seen him drink before at all, have you?"
"I don't think so. He's normally so cautious. He prefers to keep his wits about him, of course. I thought it was strange that he was drinking at all last night. I can't imagine why he would suddenly decide to do such a thing."
"Oh—and Lindal! Did you see her? Did you see when she came in wearing a dress?" Jasmine stopped to laugh out loud. "Oh, I wish I had seen Barda's face! He must have turned as red as the ruby dragon!"
Lief began laughing, too, because he did remember seeing is friend come into the great hall the previous night. He and Jasmine had been in the middle of a dance, and had been enjoying themselves. But the sight of Lindal in a dress had been so shocking that they had nearly tripped over each other and ruined the whole dance for everyone.
They had been looking forward to watching her and Barda stumble through other dances together, but the two had never actually danced. Lief and Jasmine had continued to spin through several dances while keeping an eye on their older friends. Instead of dancing long into the night as they had said they would, they had continued to hover around the refreshment table, talking and drinking and appearing to have a great time on their own. Finally, Lief and Jasmine had grown tired and disappointed, and had left, having not seen their friends attempt to dance once.
However, for having drank so much and come home so late, they seemed to be functioning quite well this morning. Enough so to apparently make pancakes for breakfast, and bang around every pot and pan in Lindal's kitchen in the process.
Recovering from their laughter, they both sat back against the back of the couch and sighed happily. Lief took Jasmine's hand in his, and rubbed his thumb across her fingers. "I'm glad you're with me."
She gave him a rueful smile. "Oh, Lief, I told you very clearly not to go getting a crush on me. Don't you remember?"
"Yeah, I do. I'm sorry."
"I'm not."
They sat back and enjoyed that moment of peaceful, companionable silence, feeling like nothing could possibly go wrong. And then another pancake-scented draft wafted from the kitchen, and Lief's stomach growled loudly. Loud enough to finally wake Filli and Kree, who were still curled up on the back of the couch, and had slept through everything else. Jasmine began to laugh again and hopped to her feet, hauling Lief up with her.
Small and slight as she was, she had always been so remarkably strong. He had always admired that about her.
"Come on," she laughed. "I'm starving, too."
As they came closer to the kitchen, they were able to hear their friends clearly for the first time. So far, they had only heard the dull roar and laughter of fairly normal conversation. Now it was obvious that Lindal and Barda were talking about another interest they shared—food.
"I never would have guessed you were so handy in the kitchen," Lindal was teasing.
"Well, someone had to be," Barda answered, sounding happier than he had been in a long time. "We all would have starved to death, if someone hadn't been a passable cook."
"Ah, then you've had plenty of practice. Now if only you could dance as well as you cook."
"I know, I know, I'll never be as good a dancer as you—but I do have… other skills."
"Ooh, yes, I know."
It was plain to Lief that they were flirting, and flirting hard. He scoffed to himself—after Barda had insisted that he wasn't in love, when he was obviously in love. Lief was overwhelmingly curious, and wanted to keep listening. But Jasmine hauled him right into the kitchen, too concerned with her own hunger to care.
"Hey," she greeted loudly, dragging Lief behind her. "Is there breakfast ready? We're starving!"
Yes, indeed, Lindal and Barda had been making pancakes. There was an impressive stack of them on a plate beside the stove, and it seemed that more were going to be added shortly. Barda was leaning against the kitchen table with a large, full-looking bowl in his hand, stirring its contents while Lindal gracefully flipped a pancake in a small pan over the stove. There were cracked eggshells and specks of flour everywhere, and the room was thick with the scent of spices and sugar.
Lief was used to seeing Barda cook, because what the man had said was true. He had always been the team cook; and it was a good thing, too, because neither Lief nor Jasmine had cooked a meal in their lives before their journey began. Neither of them were terrific at it, either. But what little they did know of it, they had absorbed from Barda, who was a decidedly fantastic cook.
So really, it was no wonder that he had accidentally, unwittingly fallen in love with Lindal, who was also a fantastic cook. If the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, it was easy enough to see how it had happened.
Lief mentally shrugged as his hungry, half-asleep mind accepted this. Mostly, it just wanted to eat those pancakes. All of them.
As Jasmine dragged him further into the kitchen, Lindal looked up from her pancake flipping and rolled her eyes at them.
"Didn't we feed the two of you yesterday?" she drawled.
"Yes, but that was yesterday," Jasmine drawled back, sliding into a chair at the table. "This is today. You don't really plan to eat all those pancakes by yourself, do you? You're going to need help! Luckily for you, Lief and I are starving, and would love to help."
Lindal sighed sharply and looked over at Barda. "What do you think, old bear? Should we share?"
Barda shrugged, still stirring his bowl of batter. "Well, he is our king, and she is our future queen, so I suppose we're stuck between a rock and a hard place."
Lindal made a stunned, thoughtful face as she considered this. "That is a good point. I had quite forgotten. Alright, fine, your majesties. Seeing as we, your humble subjects have no choice, of course we will share. And I would curtsey, too, but I'm rather busy."
Lief and Jasmine exchanged a smirk, doubting very much that Lindal knew how to curtsey properly. Jasmine probably could have taught the woman a thing or two about it. She had been forced to learn, along with how to waltz, not too long ago. She had found it tedious and annoying to learn; but it must have made her feel good to know how to do something that Lindal did not.
"So, what happened with the two of you last night?" Jasmine asked, as Lindal placed a plate of pancakes in front of her. "You both said you were going to dance, and then you never did."
"What? You didn't see us?" Lindal asked, pretending to be offended. "It was my impression that everyone had seen us."
"We didn't dance long, though," Barda added, handing his bowl over to his friend. "We only managed one dance before we came home, but I'm sure that there were many, many more before the last person went home."
"I thought you had made plans to dance all night," Lief pointed out, digging into his own plate. "What happened?"
"A change in plans."
"Is everything alright? You're not hurt, are you?"
"No, not at all," Barda answered, glancing over his shoulder at Lindal. "Actually, everything is rather excellent."
Lindal tossed a sly smile back at him, and then returned her attention to her pancakes.
Jasmine scoffed at them. "So you are in love. I knew it."
Now Lindal scowled at her. "Fill your gobs with pancakes, already."
Following her command, Lief and Jasmine began to eat. As they took their first bites, they were suddenly stunned. They could scarcely remember the last time they had tasted anything so wonderful. It was like that only good moment in Noradz, when they had tasted chocolate for the first time. The taste of their food was so overwhelmingly wonderful, it nearly knocked them over. Jasmine let her fork fall from her hand and clatter on the table, astounded.
"Lief? Jasmine? Are you alright?" Barda's voice sounded concerned.
"These pancakes," Lief muttered with his mouth full, "are the best pancakes in the history of pancakes!"
Lindal snorted with satisfaction. "That's what everybody says. I hope you appreciate them—they're an old family recipe, and I don't make them for just anyone. But this morning was… special, I decided."
Recovering from her daze, Jasmine spun around in her chair to look at Lindal. "What's so special about it?"
"I thought we would celebrate Barda's dancing."
"He only danced one dance. He probably wasn't that great, either."
"It was a long one, much longer than normal; and he danced like a true expert, thank you very much. Besides, I woke up ravenous, and decided that I wanted pancakes."
"But—"
"No. Great pancakes are not to be questioned—merely eaten. Now, I say again, stuff those pancakes in your gob, and stop pestering me with dumb questions."
Of course, Lindal was only teasing. But as Lief obeyed her and took bite after glorious bite, it felt more and more like she was trying to hide something.
"So, what did the two of you have planned for today?" Barda asked. "Running around the streets again, I imagine."
Lief shook his head. "Not after yesterday. There are some people who want to talk to me about things… I would rather run around the streets, but I don't think I'll have any peace until I've acted like a king for a few hours."
"And I've agreed to go with him," Jasmine added. "Apparently, everyone wants to get a good look at the future queen. You didn't say anything to anyone, did you, Barda?"
"Not that I know of. Perhaps the people of Broome are just good at noticing things," the big man suggested.
Jasmine sighed, and crammed a large bite of pancake into her mouth for comfort. "In any case," she said in a rather sticky voice, "we will be out in a little while, and don't plan to be back until supper time."
"What about the two of you?" Lief asked, waiting until he was finished speaking before he took another bite. "What were you going to do today? If you aren't busy, you could come meet us for lunch."
"Where were you going to go?" Lindal asked.
"There's a small place near the square where we've been going. Jasmine's ordered their fish stew three days in a row."
"Oh, I know the place," Lindal agreed. "Perhaps we will meet you later. As it is, my house is a wreck because of you people, and I've been too busy dancing lately to put it back in order. I'm doing chores today."
"And I've agreed to help her, since the two of your have other things to do," Barda added dryly, though he was smirking at them.
Jasmine looked embarrassed. "Oh, we can stay and help you, if you need us to. It's no big deal."
"No, no, it's really fine," Barda insisted quickly. "If the people want to speak with the two of you, you should go and see to them. Lindal and I will be fine on our own."
Jasmine made a face, immediately suspicious. "Are you sure?"
"Of course he's sure," Lindal answered. "We've been doing dishes and sweeping floors far longer than you have, after all."
For some reason, it seemed like they were answering a little too quickly. Lief suddenly had a few suspicions, as he knew Jasmine certainly did. She was watching them out of the corner of her eye, trying to figure out what they were up to.
Barda was suddenly different from the man they had always known. He didn't seem particularly different from the last time they had seen him, only just last night; but there are something definitely changed about him. They couldn't put words to it, or tell if it was even really there.
Perhaps it was just the way he kept glancing at Lindal, and the way she kept glancing back, as if they were exchanging some amazing secret over the heads of their younger friends. It was like they were pretending that they weren't in love for the sake of their stubbornness, but clearly not trying. At least it was kind of like admitting how things really were.
And so, after helping clean up the kitchen a bit, Lief and Jasmine prepared to leave, about an hour later. It was a good day for being out and about. The sun was shining, and the air was cool and crisp. Kree was on Jasmine's shoulder, squawking impatiently, as she gently pried him off and set him on the couch with Filli.
"No, Kree," she said firmly. "You can't come with us today. Your neck is still hurt, and you're never going to heal if you don't take it easy. Just stay here and rest. Filli will stay and look after you, won't you, Filli?"
In answer, Filli snuggled close beside Kree, nuzzling him in an almost teasing way. Kree looked absolutely indigent, and was utterly silent.
"That settles it, then," Jasmine said finally, kneeling to pat them goodbye. So only Lief saw her lean close and whisper to them.
"Keep an eye on Barda for me. He isn't himself today. If he does anything strange, let me know when I get back, okay?"
And so Leif and Jasmine left the house, hand in hand, completely alone. At least for a few minutes.
"Do you really think he needs watching?" Lief asked her. "I mean, he's always watched over us—and now we're the ones watching over him! It's funny, don't you think?"
"Yes, very funny," she agreed, laughing shortly. "All the same, let's wait and see what Filli and Kree have to say when we get back. I'm curious…"
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Unaware that Filli and Kree were still in the house, Lindal and Barda sighed with satisfaction as they heard the front door close.
"Ah, finally, they're gone," Lindal sighed, putting away the last of the plates. "I thought they would never leave!"
"You weren't serious about the chores, were you?" Barda asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
"Oh, of course not," she answered, aghast at the idea. "I may have been busy, but not so busy as to let my house go to hell. I'm sure that my mother would come back from the grave and strangle me, if I did such a thing."
"That's a relief. I was going to say, it would hardly take two people to clean this place. You sounded so serious before, I thought you had forgotten."
Lindal gave him that wonderfully mischievous smile and sidled up to him, gripping his shirt and pulling him closer. "Me? Forget? Now, now, would I do a thing like that?"
He laughed softly as he wrapped his arms around her. "It would be quite unlike you."
She laughed back and let her hands slide around his neck, her fingers creeping into his hair.
"You're always in my hair, it seems," he commented, grinning.
"I like it," she answered plainly, pouting teasingly. "Having none of my own, perhaps I am jealous. Besides, look how useful it is."
To prove her point, she gripped him by his dark hair and pulled him into a kiss he hadn't quite prepared himself for. He gasped in surprise before melting right into her, knowing immediately that it was going to be a good rest of the morning. There was still so much of it left to be had, and she was going to occupy all of that time.
On a whim he was too excited to ignore, he bent to sweep her up into his arms, and carried her with purpose out of the kitchen toward her bedroom. She yelped in shock, and began to laugh uncontrollably.
"Barda! What in heaven's name are you doing? Put me down!"
"Lindal, please, I've always wanted to do this."
Not displeased in the slightest, she nuzzled his neck and whispered in his ear. "You're such a funny little bear."
"Well, you are a clever and beautiful lynx, if there ever was one."
And, just as Barda had predicted, it was an extremely good rest of the morning. It was so good, in fact, that it was nearly a full two hours before Lindal finally pried herself from his arms and rolled out of her bed, searching the floor for her scattered clothes.
"The children will be expecting us, shortly," she pointed out, a fiery excitement in her hazel eyes. "If we don't meet them soon, they will get suspicious. I'm having far too much fun to let that happen."
Unable to share her concern, Barda sat in bed and watched her lovingly as she picked up her clothes. He had noticed that she grumbled and swore quietly to herself while searching for things, especially things which she felt should be easy to find. In this instance, it was her shirt. She had gathered up the rest of her clothing, but kept peering around the floor trying to find it, cursing herself for losing it because she liked that shirt and had looked forward to wearing it today.
It was like that split second that had caused him to fall in love with her in the first place—as she had searched her kitchen for a misplaced bottle of wine, grumbling all the way and generally being exactly, unabashedly who she really was. It was such a pure, perfect picture of herself: generous with what she had, always about getting things done, but innocently impatient.
And this earnestness to keep their affair a grand secret, as if it could be discovered and ruin them at any moment, was nothing short of adorable. It was as if she had become a girl with a wild imagination once again. Barda had never been one for games of make-believe; but he, too, felt like he had become a boy again. A person with fewer cares and troubles and responsibilities, and far more opportunities and potential. A person to whom less life had happened, yet. A person who was free to live and love as he pleased, because rules and duty did not bind him.
The kind of person who could lose himself in the innocent, wild girl that Lindal had become. The kind of person who she, in return, could lose herself in.
Something clicked in his mind, as he thought of this. Suddenly, the idea of Lief and Jasmine courting was much easier wrap his head around. All at once, it made perfect sense to him, because he had found a wild girl of his very own. At last, he understood them.
Pondering this new idea, Barda glanced down at the tangled blanket and caught sight of something that didn't belong there. He reached out and pulled the very object of Lindal's searching from a fold in the blanket.
"Oh, here's your shirt," he said, holding it out to her with a laugh. "It's been here, right where I left it, the whole time."
Sighing in frustration, Lindal plodded back to the bed, snatching her shirt back as she sank down on the mattress. "Thank you," she said tightly. "And there I was, about to crawl under the bed, cursing myself like a lunatic. Forgive me for that; it must have been unsightly."
"Not at all," he insisted, gathering her back into his arms. "I find it rather charming."
To his surprise, she blushed a bit and ducked her head, as if she really were a shy little child. "Well, you would be the first. Doom always found it irritating; and so did everyone else…"
She seemed embarrassed by those words, perhaps unsure of where they had even come from and why she had spoiled such a nice moment with them. To distract herself, she shook her head and smiled.
"Oh, what does it matter? All of that is behind me now," she said firmly, resting her head contentedly on Barda's shoulder. "The future is going to be much better, I can see that much."
She sighed happily as Barda kissed the top of her head, and ran his strong hands over her back and shoulders. He didn't like to think of spoiling this perfectly perfect morning any further, but that unexpected comment had brought all kinds of questions to mind. It was a part of her life she had avoided talking about, so far. Maybe it was better to leave those questions unasked.
At the same time, he thought, things had changed dramatically between them. And she had been bothered by her own words, just as he had been. He could feel it. He longed to know what was troubling her. Then, perhaps he could help her.
"Lindal, may I ask you a personal question?"
She lifted her head to look at him as if he were mad. "Barda, you've seen me naked twice. You hardly have to ask."
Now it was his turn to blush unexpectedly. Hearing it put so bluntly was startling; but he liked the sound of it more than he felt he should. He shook himself a bit and found his voice again. "We've spoken little of your time with the Resistance, but… That kind of life hardly suits you. How did you end up with them, anyway?"
Lindal maintained her pleasant smile; but the teasing, light-hearted gleam in her eyes died at once. "…That is personal," she said quietly, settling heavily into his arms. "And it is quite a story."
He also settled himself, holding her large, lovely body comfortably in his arms, and taking her hand in his. To convince her that he was willing to be a safe place for her.
"Tell me. I'm listening."
"You don't want to hear about that. It's a frustrating tale. You shall want to punch Doom's teeth out next time you see him."
Barda shrugged. "He's had it coming, anyway."
Lindal sighed in defeat. "True enough… Very well, I suppose I'll have no peace until I've told my sad story. It all began about nine or ten years ago. I left the city one afternoon with three of my friends, on a hunting trip. We had meant only to be gone for the afternoon, but we were still empty-handed by the time the sun had set. And, being the proud, self-absorbed youngsters we were, we agreed not to return home until we had some sort of game to show for our journey. So we made a camp for the night, not terribly far from End Wood. Not terribly far at all from the place where I found you… Oh, you may be able to see where this is going, by now…"
Lindal bowed her head and gave a harsh, mirthless laugh, her voice haunted. "So, yes, two of them ventured into the forest while the other two of us weren't watching—again, because we were all stupid youngsters with no sense. Everyone always says not to go into the Forests at night. Some children simply don't believe that. Some children fancy themselves invincible. Kaz and Mona certainly didn't…"
Barda swallowed hard. This was not the way he had expected this story to begin, and he was already nervous of where it would go next. "What did the rest of you do?"
"We waited until dawn to venture after them, praying beyond all hope that we would find them alive." Lindal stopped and sighed sharply, still not looking up. "We did not. That blasted Orchard Keeper made short work of them. And Lee, my best friend from childhood, was so grieved and panic-stricken that she blundered right into a Silence Spider web, hardly five minutes later. The damn thing bit her, killed her instantly, and then jumped at me. I don't even know how it missed me. By all accounts, I should have died there in End Wood."
Having lost all of his childhood friends in one fell swoop, himself, Barda was moved to insist that he understood; but he knew, haunted as she was, that she wouldn't appreciate it. Instead, he held her a little closer and began to rock her slightly. "How did you survive?" he asked, curious in spite of the tragic tale.
"Oh, I couldn't tell you," she said, poorly faking her usual briskness. "A trick of fate, or sheer dumb luck, I could never say which for certain. As the spider jumped at me, I tripped over a fallen branch. I toppled backward, hit my head on something, and lost consciousness. When I eventually woke, I was in a cave, surrounded by folk I had never seen in my life before. I had no idea where I was, or what had happened. And then… Doom showed up, and explained everything.
"He had been passing by End Wood, and seen signs of our camp. He said that he had followed our trail on an impulse he couldn't explain, because surely anyone who had ventured into those trees at night should have been dead by then. And, naturally, he found me unconscious in the middle of the path, while the forest creatures devoured my friends. The man delayed his business, and went out of his way to rescue me. He brought me to the eastern stronghold, where the other Resistance fighters there looked after me. Apparently, I slept like a rock for three days solid. And I woke to discover that I rather owed Doom and his Resistance my life. They had saved it, after all."
"And so you joined them."
"Yes, I did. It just seemed right to do. And, in that moment, I suppose I was embarrassed to return home. I felt that I had failed my friends, and that I had failed my people, and didn't want to stand before them that way. At the time, it seemed better to hide, to start over, to make an actual difference in our world. It was all I thought I could do, for a while."
"How long did you stay with them?"
"Five years, maybe a little more. And it was a productive five years, I can't deny. I met many varied people and learned much from all of them; they all learned a thing or two from me, too. For the first time in my life, I had friends who weren't from Broome. I had always thought that others would dislike me, because of my looks and admittedly rough ways. In fact, I found that assumption to be quite untrue, and I enjoyed my work and my place with them. For a long time, I was quite happy. But… Well, time wore on, and I missed my home more and more, and I finally realized that the shame I had felt before was silly. I hadn't seen my mother in five years, for pity's sake! I wanted to go home."
"Hm. I wonder how Doom felt about that…"
"Poorly, as you can well imagine. He forbade it when I asked, said it would only endanger the Resistance, and the unknowing people here in Broome. We had become somewhat friendly by then, but we quarreled over it loudly and bitterly whenever he was at the stronghold. And finally, after the loudest of the fights, I took matters into my own hands. I snuck out of the stronghold as soon as he had left, and ran toward home without looking back."
Barda was overtaken by a sense of nostalgia. He could imagine very well how those fights must have gone. A memory of Dain stabbed at him—when the disguised monster had led him and his young friends to the western stronghold, Doom had been furious enough to scold the boy in front of the entire Resistance group. And he had said basically the same thing, then. Trusting strangers had been a dangerous business for them, when spies had been everywhere, and their success depended upon secrecy.
Doom still refused to trust people; even if the Shadow Lord and his spies were driven out of Deltora once and for all, Barda was sure the man would never let that wall come down. Perhaps, he reflected, the way that Dain had foiled them so perfectly had something to do with it.
He wondered vaguely, if Doom had taken so strongly to Dain because he reminded him of Lindal…
"I reached the city wall as the sun was rising," Lindal was continuing. "You should have seen the guards when I came up to them, out of breath from running all night, covered in mud—and alive!" She smiled faintly at the memory. "Never will I forget that moment. I had grown up with those boys. They had joined the service while I had been away, though I had never would have expected it of them in a thousand years. They had both changed as much as I had. We nearly didn't recognize each other. But when they realized who I was… They looked as though they had seen a ghost."
"To their credit, that is probably what they thought they were seeing. You must have been happy to be back."
Lindal's smile faded. "In some ways. Oh, there was enormous celebration, with food, and drink, and song and dance. For a few blessed hours, all was exactly as I had left it. I hadn't been so at ease in years. And then I looked around, realized that my mother hadn't come to greet me, and asked why she hadn't been summoned. Everyone kept saying that after I had vanished, she had suffered problems with her heart; she succumbed to those problems less than a year later… And that was how I found that my mother had died of a broken heart."
A heavy silence settled between them. Certainly, they had discussed their mothers before, over the past few days, and vaguely mentioned what had happened to them; but mostly, those scars were too personal to speak too deeply about yet. So yes, Barda had known that Lindal's mother had passed away because of her failing heart. But this…
Again, he was sort of stunned at how readily she had volunteered such a deep secret. And, again, all he could really do was hold her even closer, safer than before, and protect her as best he could from the rest of the world's cruelness.
As she pressed her cheek to his bare shoulder, Lindal laughed bitterly. "She left me this house, and everything in it, you know," she murmured. "She never gave up the hope that I might still be alive, somewhere. She never gave up on me… And still, it was because of me that she died."
"Lindal, that's not—"
"I shouldn't have been so selfish," she muttered. "If I had just screwed up my courage and come home, instead of hiding from pretended shame, perhaps she would still be alive. I would have seen her again, at least. If I had known that day that it would be the last time I would get to hug her, I would have hugged her a little longer. Perhaps I would have just stayed home, and avoided the whole thing. Instead, I have to live with the fact that I worried my mother into her grave."
Barda couldn't bring himself to believe that. The guilt his dear friend insisted on carrying was unfounded, he thought. Then again, how long had be blamed himself for his own mother's death, when none of it had been his fault, either?
"I spent many years thinking the same thing of myself," he commented quietly, hoping that it might comfort her to not be alone in that unique kind of suffering. "'If only I had paid better attention,' I used to say to myself. 'If only I had been stronger,' 'If only I had been faster,' 'If only I had just stopped and listened, like a good son should, my mother would still be alive.' It is a lot of guilt to bear alone, in silence. It never really goes away."
"No…" She sighed. "And it was a good thing mum had left me the house, because once Doom found out I had left the stronghold, he kicked me out of the Resistance."
Barda straightened and gazed down at her in amazement. "He what? After all you had just been through?"
Lindal chuckled ruefully. "I warned you, you'd want to punch his teeth out. Yes, he kicked me out. He came to this house to personally scream at me and call me a traitor in front of half the city. He dumped a pile of my things on the stoop, told me to avoid the stronghold if I valued my life, and then turned and left without another word. We didn't speak for a long time after that."
"It seems a wonder that you spoke again at all. How on earth did that happen?"
Lindal shrugged faintly. "Even Doom has his seasons. He realized not too long ago that he still needed my help, even if I can't follow orders. A few years later I suddenly received a note from him, asking me for help smuggling some people and the supplies they carried safely to the stronghold. I had made a name for myself as a cunning warrior and a skilled hunter; and so he had heard of this, and knew I could get the job done. Also, in a rare show of affection, he remembered that I was still a friend that he could trust.
"And so that rift was mended, and life went on. Hilariously, I found myself working for the Resistance once again—only this time on the outside, in the fresh air and open spaces where I belong. And we were all happy, at least as much as we could be. And… Huh. I suppose that's really where the story stops being interesting. For a long time after that, nothing really happened. And then Lief and the Belt happened, and then things started getting interesting again."
Barda hummed thoughtfully to himself, reflecting on how very interesting things had become since then. "Three quests later, and the Shadow Lord is still lurking in our land. At least, now that those 16 years of waiting are past us, it's not boring anymore," he said dryly.
"You people certainly keep the rest of us on our toes," Lindal agreed, just as dryly. She raised her eyes to look into his, and then smirked at him. "You do realize, of course, that you now owe me a personal story of your own, my bear."
He sighed in defeat. "Yes, I suppose I do. Ask any question you wish, my lynx, and I will answer."
She glanced over his shoulder at the window, minding the position of the sun, and made a face. "We ought to get ready to go," she said slowly. "The children will be wondering where we are; and if they miss us, they will demand later to know why we never showed up. Besides, I'm starving again, and that fish stew has been in the back of my mind, calling to me, ever since they mentioned it. It's quite good. You would like it."
Barda groaned and flopped back on the bed, pulling her with him. "But that will be twice today I've had to get dressed," he whined. "That is far too much work to ask of any man. I'd much rather stay here with you, just as we are."
"Barda, come along," she insisted, only half teasing. "In all seriousness, a little lunch would be excellent right about now, don't you think? How are you not starving?"
"How are you always starving? Besides, how could I like anyone's cooking more than I like yours? Surely, we can eat like kings here, all on our own."
"Stop being so stubborn! I've barely been out of my house in six days! If I don't get out of here, just for a little while, I shall lose my mind. Now come on, get up and get dressed."
With that, she climbed off him and snatched her shirt back up, holding it up briefly to make certain it was still clean. "There isn't anything on it, is there?"
"No, not that I can tell."
"Ah, excellent," she said with a grin, ending to pick more clothes off the floor. "It is chilly outside today, so I suggest you put these on right away," she teased, tossing the leggings she had picked up at Barda's head. "I would hardly do for you to catch a cold, now would it? Also, imagine the sensation you would cause."
And so, Barda reluctantly got up, dressed again, and let Lindal haul him out of her house, into the crowds of Broome. And it seemed that she felt no more fear for him starting a fight over his lack of proper manners. He imagined that his recent progress filled her with pride. And that success filled him with pride, as well. It promised to be a fine rest of the day.
That night, he silently promised himself, nothing in the world would prevent him from dancing with the woman who had stolen his heart.
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Authors' Notes…
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Not exactly where I would have wanted to end this section, but feh. I've been struggling through it since before Christmas, and I need it to be done. Followers need it to be done, also. So it is done right now, darn it. ;D