Hello again and many thanks to my lovely reviewers—you persuaded me to keep Dalton's sisters in the game. Setting (and Wyldon et. al.) belongs to Tamora Pierce. Enjoy!
"What are you thinking?" Dalton asked after they had ridden five miles from his home in relative silence.
"How much I love your family," Penelope murmured, slightly surprised by her own answer. "Only I'm wondering about your sister Grania—"she paused—"she's so vibrant and nurturing. I don't understand why she isn't married."
"Don't you?" Dalton muttered almost bitterly. But he reached over to trail his fingers along shoulder.
"Her leg?" Penelope guessed.
"Not quite." Dalton sighed. "Her mother, my father's first wife, died of a fever. Grania was six, but she survived the illness. It left her crippled and barren."
"Oh," Penelope mumbled. "I'm so sorry. I didn't—"
"Of course not." Dalton shrugged. "She doesn't want pity. She tries to make us forget as much as possible."
"Is that why she's so good at riding?" Penelope asked.
Dalton smiled. "And sewing. And talking. And writing. And interfering. And bossing. And playing chess—she taught me, you know. Anyway, I don't think she's unhappy. And she's always been something like a second mother to Arielle."
"That doesn't bother your mother?" Penelope asked, still struggling to imagine growing up in a house so full of people and emotions.
Dalton grinned. "She and Grania are like sisters—not even ten years apart, you know."
"I didn't," Penelope muttered. "I was politely avoiding the math."
"No need. My father remarried a week after the funeral, but I came along a whole ten months later. On Grania's seventh birthday actually."
"Really?"
Dalton frowned. "Well, I suppose it is possible Grania talked the entire family into convincing me we share a birthday. I don't actually remember it."
Penelope smiled. "We should invite her to celebrate with you this summer."
"You just want a chance to inflict her on Neal," Dalton accused.
"No, he's smug enough as it is." Penelope blinked innocently. "And Arielle could come too, of course. I'm sure Rissa and Vina would love her."
PDPD
Penelope and Dalton arrived at the palace well after dark, but Lord Wyldon still managed to greet them outside the stables as soon as they'd finished with their horses.
"Good evening, sir," Dalton said, trying to read Wyldon's expression and wondering if he'd ever seen the man yawn.
Wyldon nodded curtly and gestured for them to walk alongside him. "We've several matters to discuss. The twins, for starters. Their weapon work isn't at the level I usually expect of students their age."
"Sir," Dalton began protesting before Penelope could, trusting himself to do a better job concealing his outrage. "That's hardly—"
"They are considerably more advanced," Wyldon continued.
"Oh," Penelope muttered. And Dalton felt the tension drain from her fingers.
"I don't, however, grant the two of you full credit for their sophistication. I think several others have contributed. Mindelan, for one, and perhaps her husband, and certainly Selena—" Wyldon paused abruptly, frowning.
"Which brings us to the next matter for discussion," Dalton guessed.
Wyldon nodded curtly. "I don't typically involve myself in the living arrangements of young knights."
Dalton glanced at Penelope. Jeck? He mouthed. And she bit her lip and raised her eyebrows.
"But given the fact that certain—shall we call them chauvinistic?—knights are moving into your wing, I felt the need to pull a few strings. I'm not sure whether or not you're aware of your new neighbors."
"Gregory," Penelope muttered.
"On one side." Wyldon nodded. "Selena's on your other. I thought you'd be something of a buffer." He hesitated and then caught Dalton's eyes. "I'd appreciate it if you kept an eye on her."
"Sir," Penelope began, speeding up in frustration so that Dalton had to wrap an arm around her shoulders to pull her back to Wyldon's pace. "I hardly think that's—"
"It's not that she can't take care of herself," Wyldon assured them. "It's just that sometimes she's too polite about it."
Penelope sighed. "Right, sorry sir." She stretched around Dalton to clasp Wyldon's wrist. "We'd be happy to."
Wyldon actually smiled at Penelope as she tucked herself back under Dalton's arm. "I put Marcel as far as possible down the hall—as a courtesy to all of you."
"We appreciate that," Dalton said, "but I'm afraid the wing will be rather crowded."
"No rather about it," Wyldon said. "I've heard enough understatement from Queenscove today regarding the twins reckless tendencies."
"Where are—"Dalton started.
"In bed. In two complete pieces." Wyldon clasped Dalton's shoulder. "I won't detain you any longer—I'm sure you'll need what sleep you can get tonight," he added as they stepped inside. He nodded farewell and started for his own quarters.
PDPD
"No wonder Wyldon doesn't like to interfere," Penelope whispered, as they came upon two tall figures pressed together near their door.
"I hope that's Jeck," Dalton muttered, recognizing Selena, "otherwise 'crowded' won't even begin to describe—"
"Well, well, well. What have we here?"
Penelope flinched as she recognized Marcel's booming voice and blinked when he lifted a lamp to illuminate the entire hall. Gregory and several other knights opened their doors to gape at Selena and Jeck. Dalton stiffened and pulled away from Penelope so they could both reach their sword hilts.
To her credit, Selena did not jump away from Jeck; they separated slowly, both flushed, and she turned to face Marcel.
"Nothing that need concern you," she hissed.
"I think the purity of our lady knights"—he glanced pointedly at Penelope—"concerns us all."
Dalton stepped forward and Penelope jerked her chin around to glare at Marcel, but it was Jeck who spoke.
"It might, if the lady knights belonged to anyone but themselves, but since they aren't our lady knights, their personal decisions aren't ours to scrutinize."
Penelope could have kissed Jeck if it weren't for Selena and Dalton.
"Disgusting enough that you sully yourself with a common smith," Marcel snarled, "but you choose one who barks back at his betters."
"And one who will bite if you can't control your foul mouth," Jeck added, stunning Marcel into lowering his lantern and lunging forward.
"Enough," Selena said.
Jeck turned his back on Marcel to face her. "My apologies," he murmured. "I can see I am not welcome here." Then he caught Selena's eye, seeking her agreement.
Selena leaned suddenly forward and kissed him tenderly. He wrapped his hands briefly over her shoulders and then he turned, nodded once at Dalton, and calmly walked away.
"If you really need to duel another noble man over the matter," Dalton put in, "I'd be happy to oblige, so long as you don't mind a humiliating defeat."
Marcel scowled and stamped down the hall to his own quarters and most of the watching knights—all but Gregory—shut their doors.
Selena let out a shaky breath and walked over to greet Penelope and Dalton. "Thanks. We—I got tired of being paranoid and proper. There won't be any more disturbances like that. Sorry you got pulled into thi—"
Penelope pulled Selena into a tight hug to silence her.
"Arguably," Gregory muttered, "Penelope belongs to Dalton." He nodded swiftly at all three of them. "Evening," he added, and closed his door.
Selena vanished into her own room a moment later.
"Sorry about Gregory's idiocy," Dalton whispered, pulling Penelope close again as they stepped into their own room.
Penelope shrugged. "Arguably—"she kissed his jaw—"you belong to me too."
PDPD
A sharp rapping woke them a few hours after midnight. Penelope, who was nearest the door, grimaced at Dalton and rolled out of bed.
"We're switching sides," she muttered, before yanking the door open.
"Sorry to disturb you," Gregory said, sounding sincere, if not repentant. "The king's summoned you to an emergency meeting." He scanned the collar of her nightgown but didn't lower his gaze. "You're expected immediately in the royal chambers."
Dalton stepped up beside her and slid an arm around her waist. "This had better not be any kind of prank."
"I assure you, sir, that if it were, I would have woken you at an even more obscenely unreasonable hour. I don't sin half-heartedly." He scowled. "The servant they sent for you knocked on my door by mistake and didn't stay long enough to determine that I am not, in fact, two people."
"Right," Penelope said, "thanks." She nodded briskly and hurried to dress.
When Gregory made no move to leave, Dalton pointedly pulled the door most of the way closed and stuck his head out.
"Any idea what this is about?"
"None, but I don't think I'll bother going back to sleep. I expect we'll all be woken before long."
PDPD
The king and queen were fully, if untidily, dressed and seated before the small table in their sitting room when Penelope and Dalton arrived. It didn't take them long to explain what they wanted. There was a large "something like a firewraith, only cold" roaming a few days' ride north of the palace. They were to lead a team of knights and a troop of the Own out to dispatch it.
"Who's on the team?" Dalton asked.
"Well, Wyldon recommended Selena and Garrett. But then we realized that we'll have to send basically your entire wing in order to have enough manpower."
"Why us?" Penelope asked, mostly to distract herself from the unpleasant necessity of a long ride with Gregory—because she wasn't going to trust him yet—and Marcel—because she wasn't going to trust him until his death, and possibly not even then.
"You've demonstrated considerable talent for handling new, massive, and unpredictable monsters with a minimum of fuss," the king answered. "We think you'll get the job done most efficiently if you have free rein."
"But that's not precisely why he called you here," Thayet said, elbowing the king gently.
"Right." The king coughed. "I need to put one person officially in command and I wasn't sure which of you it ought to be."
Penelope and Dalton blinked at one another.
"We didn't feel it was our place to interfere in your marriage that way," the queen added, tugging on Jon's arm. "Which is why we're giving you five minutes alone to decide the matter for yourselves." She pulled the king from the room and shut the door firmly behind them.
They both stared at the table for a long moment. The Dalton wrapped his fingers over her arm.
"You'd better do it," Penelope muttered, just as Dalton said, "it ought to be you."
She slammed her free hand down on the table. "It's way too early for this."
Dalton watched her carefully, unsure whether she referred to their marriage or the hour of the morning. "This is your chance to prove—"
"I'm done proving things to myself"—she smiled crookedly—"and to you." She shrugged. "And I'm tired of trying to prove things to unteachable idiots. I know I'd be quite capable of leading—I don't need to show them that. I just want to tackle this monster as quickly as possible and get back home. I can take my time convincing them to obey me when Rissa and Vina's lives aren't in danger.
"They're coming with us?"
"It's easier to command if you got squires dealing with your gear. And they need the experience. You can order them to stay in back or in the middle, whichever's safer."
"So—"
Penelope nodded.
"Let's face it. Commanding our wing is going to be a really unpleasant job and neither of us actually wants to do it."
Penelope gave her eyelashes an exaggerated flutter. "So it's really sweet of you to spare me the chore."
Dalton rolled his eyes, but recognized the logic of her earlier arguments. "Very well." They both sighed and glared at the table again. "You do know you're stuck taking over if I'm killed or otherwise incapacitated."
"We'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen then," Penelope murmured, turning to kiss him.
PDPD
The king whistled upon returning to his sitting room to find two of his commanding knights locked in a close embrace. The queen realized she had absolutely no way of knowing which way the decision had gone and raised an imperious eyebrow as they pulled apart.
"Well?"
"Er, right, beg pardon, your majesties," Dalton said. "I'll be leading this mission."
The king nodded his acceptance and Penelope took pity on Thayet's eyebrow.
"You're more likely to get everyone back this way. I can't promise I wouldn't order Marcel to jump off a cliff."
"We appreciate your restraint," Thayet replied.
"Good luck," the king added. "You leave at first light."
PDPD
"Good thing we never bothered unpacking," Penelope muttered as they hurried away from the royal chambers. "We'll want our things ready in an hour so we can deal with everyone else's problems as they arise."
"You get the twins, then," Dalton told her, as they hurried away from the royal quarters. "I'd just as soon not be seen visiting their room in the middle of the night."
Penelope nodded, kissed his cheek, and sped away, leaving Dalton to collect their things and his thoughts.
The first few hours of his command passed in a heady, sleepless blur. He vaguely remembered surveying his team of puffy-eyed knights as they mounted. And greeting Rissa and Vina, who had entirely too much energy given the hour. And listening to Neal's dire warnings about the limitations of the young healer accompanying their team.
Then he was riding out the gates, with Penelope at his right side and the twins on his left, and fifteen knights and fifteen men of the Own following him.
He called a halt around lunchtime and wandered through the group as he ate, getting a feel for his command. Most of the men greeted him with polite nods and he was just beginning to think that the experience might not be so unpleasant after all, when he heard the distinctive slap of fists against leather.
He ducked around a few horses to find Selena face to face with Marcel and Timone, who was doubled over around his gut.
"Nothing happened," she was saying. "But since you don't believe me I won't bother swearing it. And I'm not—"
"At least show some shame, you hypocritical little bit—"
"Afternoon gentlemen," Dalton cut in. "Might I have a word with the lady knight?"
"A word?" Marcel sneered. "You've got three girls already, Dalton. And Selena's awfully long-winded."
Selena drove her fist into his jaw. "I can be brief, if I've nothing more to say."
"Look what you've done," Dalton muttered, "Now I'll have to assign her punishment duty. She can dig the women's latrines tonight." Digging a four-person latrine wasn't much of a punishment and she'd probably have been doing it anyway. "And the two of you will dig the men's," he added, assigning them a much larger task.
Marcel and Timone glared sharply and then stomped away.
"Er, sorry, sir," Selena muttered, glancing after them. "I should have known—I wish I hadn't—"
"You haven't done anything to be ashamed of." He hesitated a moment and then gripped her arm gently. "You shouldn't have anything to regret even if Jeck had stayed overnight."
Selena blushed. "I know." She shrugged. "You probably think you'd be a hypocrite if you told me otherwise."
"This isn't about me and Penelope."
"No, of course not," she hissed. "You two were cutely unconventional. But I'm a real disgrace and Jeck's—"
"Jeck's madly in love with you. And you're blind if you think anything else matters."
"That's easy for you to say," she started, then his words hit her and she blinked. "Really? How would you know?"
"It's obvious." Dalton shook his head. "He and I do talk sometimes—I won't tell you when, I'm entitled to try to surprise Penelope with shiny metal objects." He sighed. "It shows in the way his voice changes when he talks about you. He knows you—he knows more about your grip than I know about my own—he knows your silent pauses and your fondness for currents and the way you growl your way through nonsensical conversations with Wyldon's dog. He adores you—he's devoted." Dalton smiled. "And, given the way you kissed last night, I rather suspect you feel the same way."
Selena surveyed her feet. "I—er—yes, I think I—I do." She blinked nervously at him.
Dalton chuckled. "Try telling him that. It will do you both more good in the long run."
"Right, yes, sir."
"Jeck's very lucky," Dalton said, pulling her into a hug. "But I think he probably deserves it. So do you."
"Thanks," she mumbled into his sleeve before stepping away. "I'll try not to earn any more latrine duty."
Dalton grinned. "See that you don't. I need something to threaten Rissa and Vina with."
PDPD
None of the men insulted Selena for the rest of the afternoon. Of course, none of them would look at her or speak to her either. And she wound up brooding a half horse length behind Penelope.
"It'll pass," Penelope assured her.
Selena shrugged. Rissa and Vina winced sympathetically.
"Eventually," Penelope added weakly.
"I don't mind," Selena muttered. "I mean it's annoying, but—I just don't get it. Why not just challenge me outright and be done with it?"
"Trust me, Selena," Dalton muttered, "they're all just jealous of Jeck."
"Because of me?" Selena frowned. "I seriously doubt it. I'm not exactly—"
"You're only part of it. They're mostly jealous of his smith's arm muscles."
"Aren't we all?" Penelope wondered as Selena bit her lip to keep from smiling.
"For one reason or another," Rissa added. "And I thought I was the only one who'd noticed."
"Obviously not," Selena informed her.
"Well," Vina reflected, "I suppose their taste isn't all bad then."
Penelope shook her head at Dalton and they trotted a few steps ahead together.
"Whatever you told her earlier that made her stop doubting herself," Penelope muttered, "thanks for that." She stretched out a hand to wrap around his shoulder. "I love you, you know."
"Really?" Dalton grinned. "Perhaps I ought to talk to other women more often."
So hope you enjoyed, many thanks to all readers and reviewers. And, in our upcoming chapter…
"I think I might be madly in love with your wife, sir," one of the men called as Penelope reappeared, sword in hand.
Dalton shrugged, too relieved to glare at the man. "Me too," he muttered fervently.
Let's hope airport security is fast and I get plenty of time to work on it on my way back to school.
"