Disclaimer: The characters in this story are copyrighted by other people. I am using them without permission but with no intent to harm.

A/N: Albel and Nel use the titles of their own countries when referring to each other. For example, Nel calls Albel "General," the equivalent rank of his Captain's title in her country.

Truces, Part II

Looking back, Nel realized 'it' had begun about a week after they were forced to accept Albel into their party. They rested, stocked up on supplies, and finally started the long hunt for the oldest of the air dragons. Albel was not shy about calling the party's haste to reach the Barr Mountains 'foolish'. "It's the dead of winter. The foothills are passable, but most of the higher paths will be blocked. We should wait a few more weeks."

Fayt tried, once again, to explain about the Vendeeni and the immediate threat they presented, only to be rewarded with a cold stare. "I don't know how you convinced that old fool Woltar of your absurd story, but I don't buy it. Beings from another world? Preposterous." Which effectively ended the conversation, because Fayt had already told him that half their expedition members were from other worlds and Albel had scornfully refused to give any credence to such an assertion. Fayt settled for telling him, sharply, that they were going now and that was that. Albel seethed in silence during the journey to the mountainous region, which suited the rest of the party members just fine.

Unfortunately, Albel's dire pronouncement proved correct. Normally a dry area covered with dust and bare rocks, the Barr Mountains were blanketed in a thick layer of snow. Struggling through the wet slush was time-consuming, especially with most of their party unused to the vagrancies of solid precipitation. When Fayt led them into one snowdrift too many, Albel snapped that they all really would become worms if they didn't let someone familiar with the terrain take over. Wasn't that why they required his presence?

"Your king insisted you had to come with us as part of the peace treaty," said Fayt, not with any accusation in his voice but not very kindly either. "That's why you're here."

"Oh, I dunno. He makes pretty good dragon bait," drawled Cliff, grinning. "It's the hair. Looks like scales from a distance, so they think he's one of them and come running."

"Shut up, maggot."

His smirk widening, Cliff threw up his hands as if to placate the swordsman. "Geez, no sense of humor. Can't you take a joke? Obviously your hair is more like a horse's mane than anything else."

Snorting, Albel slung his katana across his shoulder guard, tapping lightly with the dull side of the blade. "I suppose it's up to us to scout ahead, since these fools have no idea how to move in snow," he said scornfully.

Nel actually looked over her shoulder to see who he could possibly be talking to before realizing his shadowed gaze was leveled in her direction. "Me?" She couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice, or the beginning of suspicion, although she had nothing in particular to be suspicious about. Where Albel was concerned, it was just general good sense to be suspicious. "You're joking."

"You were a spy in my country during the war, were you not? You must have some familiarity with snow. Any of these worms would end up in a snow bank." He glared at the wall of ice currently blocking their path. "Another one."

It was a compliment of sorts, albeit the single most backhanded one she had ever received. Nel glanced toward the others. Cliff gave his usual careless shrug. Little Roger just looked cold, arms hugging his body tightly, biting down on his lips to keep his teeth from unmasculine chattering. Maria silently gazed at Fayt; for all that she was supposed to be the leader of the off-worlders, she deferred to him more often than not. Sighing, Fayt glanced up at the darkening sky. "Go ahead and scout out possible routes for tomorrow. We'll set up camp here."

Cliff had a parting shot. "Try not to get caught by the dark, hotshot. It would be real embarrassing if one of us warm-climate types had to come rescue you."

"Shut up, maggot."

They trudged along for several minutes in relative silence that was broken only by the crunch of their boots in the snow. At a three-way fork in the path Nel started to take the northern one knowing that the caverns that were their eventual goal lay in that direction, but Albel gave a curt shake of his head as he headed for the westernmost branch. "This time of year it gets blocked about 500 meters up," he said.

"It's still the most direct route–"

"Being a slave to the compass is what keeps bringing us to impasse after impasse. Do you people want my help or not?"

Not, she thought, although Nel opted against saying that out loud. Instead, "Slow down," she snapped.

"Oh, excuse me. I thought you were a warrior. Lacking endurance, are we?"

"You're a foot taller than I am, which means that calf-deep in snow for you is thigh-deep for me. Either you break the trail alone or you slow down so I can keep pace."

His slouching stride checked briefly. "I'll break the trail," he said, to her surprise. A small smirk creased his cheek. "We do believe in chivalry in my country, you know. Besides," he added as he stepped in front of her, "the snow will thin out in a dozen meters or so."

Nel couldn't decide if she was impressed or irritated when, sure enough, following a northerly bend, the thick blanket of snow covering the path tapered to no more than a few inches. "This is our best bet for tomorrow, then," she commented as she stopped beside him.

She was ignored. Something on the path in front of him held his attention. "Hel-lo. What have we here?"

Following his gaze, Nel nearly stamped her foot in frustration. She settled for speaking sharply. "That, General, is a tree. It's a very big tree. It's a very big tree that is taking up the entire path." She looked at the solid wall to one side of the tree, then at the immediate plunge on the other side. "This way is useless. We'll have to go back to camp and try the eastern pass in the morning."

"Would you say," he asked with detached interest, "that tree appears to be a very, very old one?"

"Considering its trunk is larger around than I can reach, yes. Albel, we really don't want to be caught here once night falls. We have to go back."

"How curious," Albel remarked as he drew his sword. Nel stepped hastily away, but his concentration was still on the tree. "How curious indeed – seeing as this very, very old tree wasn't here six months ago." Grasping the katana hilt with both hands, he sprang forward with a battle cry.

The boughs of the tree snapped forward in an attempt to drill its attacker. Albel nimbly spun and skipped aside. Having survived many treks through Duggas Forest, Nel knew that not all trees were as sedentary or benign as one might think. Startled she was, but not to the point of immobility. Raising her hands over her head, she shouted, "Firebolt!" The runes embedded in her hands sparked as fire arched from her fingers. The demon tree shrieked in anger and whirled its branches against the nearby snow in an effort to smother the flicking flames.

"Behind!" Albel shouted at her.

In a flash her twin daggers were in her hands, crossed behind her nape to protect her vulnerable neck. She grunted as something struck against them and rebounded off with a keening cry. Whirling, she confronted one of the dangerous medium-sized dragons, shaking its head wildly. Nel had caught the edges of its razor-sharp maw against her blades. Glaring at her balefully, it sucked in air with a long inhale. It can paralyze with its breath! Throwing herself to the side, Nel gasped as she nearly rolled over the edge of the path's sheer drop-off. No room to maneuver. She was going to have to stay put, and hope her rune-based magic could keep the beast at a distance.

"Air slash!" she heard Albel shout. The dragon was knocked off its feet by the unexpected whirlwind that crashed into its side. Nel chanced a quick glance toward Albel. In spite of his own lack of fire attacks, he appeared to have the situation with the demon tree under control, dancing in and out of its lashing branches as he carved it up with surgical precision. His distance attack gave her the momentary advantage over the dragon. Nel lunged for the quick kill. A minute later she was wiping her blades against her thigh guards with a grimace of distaste.

Behind her was the crunch of footfalls. Nel spun in a low crouch, relaxing as she saw it was only Albel striding towards her through the snow. Looking beyond him, she saw that the demon tree had been reduced to so much kindling, although not the sort that any sane person would ever try to burn. Nel meant to make some light comment along the lines of That got the blood pumping. The words never had the chance to leave her mouth. Albel reached out, snagged the shoulder of her sleeveless tunic, and before she could so much as grunt in surprise had hauled her against him. Off-balance, she clutched at his shoulders in an instinctual effort to maintain her footing, and therefore had no way of fending him off when he dipped his head to press his lips against hers.

At least, that was her excuse for the first few seconds. Her excuse for the next few was that the repeated flicks of his tongue against the closed line of her mouth distracted her and she was rather curious about where the hand he was sliding down her back was going to end up. Then she decided that, while the runes embedded under her skin generated enough energy to take the edge off the cold, she was still far from warm and he was very, very warm indeed. By the time his hand splayed against the small of her back to gently pull her into him and he gave up the tongue-flicking in favor of suckling on her lower lip, her thought processes had shut down entirely.

Releasing the death-grip on his shoulders, her fingers slid up into the shaggy mane of hair that halo'd his head. Albel no longer needed to encourage her to press against him. He rewarded her with soft strokes up and down her back, and when he finally released her mouth she was gasping. She stared wide-eyed at the sky as he bent her across his arm and bit small kisses along her jaw and throat. His hair was brushing against her face, tickling her nose and giving her the urge to sneeze. It snapped her out of her abstracted state, although since she had her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders as her fingers twisted and tangled through his hair, she didn't think she could act very outraged. Carefully she loosened her grasp, and he promptly did the same, allowing her to step back slightly although his hands rested casually on her waist.

"What was that?" Nel tried to demand, but since the words were tinged with genuine bemusement they lacked the force she meant to put into them.

His cool bright eyes were brighter than usual, and perhaps not so 'cool' at the moment. "Very nice, I would say," he murmured. His head tilted to the side. "Are you a virgin?"

For a moment she gaped at him. "What the hell business is it of yours?"

"None," Albel answered immediately, "except that you kiss like a virgin." He raised a hand from her waist to brush a thumb gently across her mouth. "I suppose it comes of being in an all-female army. No one to practice with."

"There are plenty of men in our army!"

"Are there? It's probably just an Airyglyph fantasy, then." The tips of his fingers trailed down her throat, to rest lightly against the rune just over her breasts. "You should hear some of the stories they tell about these things."

Nel arched her brows, feeling some of her normal equanimity returning to her. "You mean, 'breasts'? I suppose that's what comes of being in an all-male army. No idea of what the female anatomy entails."

Smirking, Albel traced a few of the rune's curves, forcing Nel to repress shivers that had nothing to do with the cold. "We both have gaps in our education," he said agreeably. Folding his fingers around her neck, he stroked under her jaw with his thumb to bring her head up. "We'll have to do something about that, then," he breathed, feathering a kiss across her mouth.

No wonder he's getting the wrong idea, thought Nel. Somehow my hands ended up on his shoulders again... She shifted her grasp, meaning to take her hands away, but she couldn't resist dragging the tips of her fingers across his chest as punishment for that 'virgin' crack. He gasped against her mouth, and the hand resting on her waist clenched, bringing her hard against him. There was a disorienting 'clang' accompanied by an unpleasant jarring sensation. Startled, the two sprang apart.

After a blank moment of silence, Albel began to laugh. "Well, there's one thing we've learned that we didn't know before! If two people wearing selected bits of armor grab each other the wrong way, they set off shockwaves!" Running a hand through his hair, he grinned at her. Nel was struck by how young he appeared in that moment. For six years the lightening raids conducted by his Black Brigade had justly stuck terror into the hearts of her fellow soldiers, and she only now realized he was probably no older than she was. "Just as well. I prefer a bed to a snowbank. I'll have to get a private room the next chance we have to stay at an inn."

"Don't assume too much."

The smile lingering on his lips, he gazed at her steadily. "Who said you were invited? Perhaps I just need some private time. Precious little of that these last few days."

Slanting an appraising look towards the sky, Nel inclined her head toward in the direction they had come from. "We're going to be stuck with just carcasses for company if we don't get moving soon. I suppose that won't bother you, as fond of maggots as you are."

Albel's mouth twisted ruefully. "Since I'm hanging out with you lot, I must be terribly fond of them," he agreed, but he turned away from her and Nel felt as if she could finally breathe normally again. Even though the darkness overtook them long before they returned to Fayt's position, Albel led her unerringly through the maze of paths, and neither "fool" nor "maggot" passed his lips until they were in the company of the others.