It was a long night, she didn't know she could fight this fiercely for so long, but she did so out of necessity. She stayed mostly next to Captain Finn, who seemed to delight in blasting the skeletons to pieces. Soon their rifles started to move in sync, and they ended up back to back, tearing into the oncoming horde. That was when her gun jammed. She swore, throwing it to the floor, and concentrated on the screaming mass before her. She flung her arms forward, and a glaring ball of fire ripped through the monsters, their dry bones and rags flaring up instantly. In only a few seconds what had once been a surging crowd of un-dead was reduced to a pile of ashes.
"Bloody hell, Toots! Why didn't you do that earlier?" She flashed Finn a rueful grin, but more of the monsters were bearing down upon them.
"Keep doing that!" She heard Walter yell from across the fort. Letting lose a cry, she threw herself into the oncoming Hollow Men. Rose could hear Finn swear behind her, and shout something about her lack of brains, but she concentrated only on the Will coursing through her. Tens of them crumbled at her feet, but every single one was replaced. She snarled and crouched, placing her hands flat down on the floor. She didn't know why she did it, it was a feeling she had gotten, that she just should. She let loose a wave of her Will, more than usual, and it flared out in all directions. Red hot tongues of flame ate away at any Hollow Man in its path, but as soon as it neared a soldier it dimmed and died. The crescendo lasted only a second, but she saw it as if in slow motion, felt every wisp the fire released, every bone that was cremated at its touch.
That too lasted only a second, and the swarming monsters were replaced even quicker. By now the moon was at its peak in the sky, meaning both that the Hollow Men were at their full power, but also that this fight was halfway through. Her spirit bolstered, she straightened and threw herself back into the fight.
It was like the stories her Father used to tell her, about when he used his Will in battles, and how it took over him. Like a trance, he used to say, it was all he could see, or think of, or feel. She could understand it now, unlike when she was younger, she could feel it running through her, not just when it flew from her hands. It was an amazing feeling.
That was how her first night went, battling the Hollow Legion with the Swift Brigade, she didn't stop until the sun rose above the parapets and the remaining corpses crumbled to dust.
Panting, she lowered her hands. The battle had been intense, and so much harder than what she was used to. Bullets had grazed her in many places and she'd been knocked to the floor by a well placed swing, but she was mostly uninjured. She didn't know about anyone else.
"Well done, Rose." Walter said as he walked over to her. She nodded mutely, struggling to keep her eyes open.
"M'tired, Walter." She lent back on her mentor, who wrapped a protective arm over her shoulder.
"Go to sleep then, its safe now." He reassured her, laughing softly. Rose could feel his chest vibrate when he did that, and it took her back to her childhood, after her father died, of falling asleep on Sir Walter. She nodded again, and then succumbed to sleep.
When she woke the sun directly above her in the sky, blinding her as she opened her eyes to it. She was a mat too, for it was a damn bit comfier than the last few places she had slept. The last few places being various spots in Mistpeak and a short powernap in the hobbe cave. She threw an arm over her eyes and moaned; her whole body ached. She heard a soft chuckle beside her, and she sat up, startled, reaching for where her rifle usually sat on her back.
"Whoa, Toots, calm it." Finn had his hands held out in a placating manner, and she lessened the snarl on her face.
"Why are you so close, Finn?" Her voice was gravelly from sleep, and the ache persisted in her muscles.
"Wally told me too; you haven't had much sleep lately, and you're gonna need it if you're gon' do that again tonight." He said simply, swinging the chair he was sat on back onto two legs. She hated the thought of another night of fighting those monsters, but she had the option to leave, the men here didn't, not unless they want to be labelled deserters.
She slumped back onto the mat, before a thought struck her; whose was it? She winced at the thought of any man going with out a bed, and the realised she didn't know how many of them had survived last night.
"Finn," Rose called, catching the blonde's attention, "How many men-?"
"Died?" He ran his fingers through his hair, and grinned. "None, Toots. That's the fiercest I've ever seen the boys fight. That was you, I think." She looked at him incomprehensively – to her knowledge they thought she was just a tag along of Walter's.
"Be proud, Toots, you've given them something to fight for; an uncorrupted monarchy, one that cares."
"When did they find out?" She asked, chewing on her lip. The Captain smirked. "Last nights, after you fainted. Walter made a big speech of it, actually. Quite inspiring."
Rose snorted; that was so Walter.
She smiled up at him, and he stood up and offered her his hand.
"Whose mat am I on, Finn?" Rose asked as he pulled her up.
"Oh, that's mine. Swifty thought it a good idea to give you the best one, and I pilfered that from a travelling snob a few years ago." He snickered, but she was aghast.
"Finn!"
"He kicked a kid, he deserved it."
Rose chewed on her lip again. "Where did you sleep then, Finn?" The captain looked back at her and shrugged, smiling.
"Ah, y'know. I'm not unused to roughing it, Toots."
She was still frowning as he started to lead her towards where food was being served.
"Hang on, I did not faint!" Rose shouted at his back, bringing her hands up to her waist.
The blonde whirled around, a mischievous grin on his handsome face.
"Oh really? I, for one, thought you'd gone and died on us." He replied, the grin turning distinctly 'shit-eating'.
"No, I'd just fallen asleep. Us Blacks are a lot harder to kill that that." She told him, making him laugh slightly.
She could see now how calm the atmosphere was, like how it was before nightfall yesterday. Men were laughing and joking, but it seemed somehow brighter than yesterday, more hopeful, somehow. But she didn't truly believe what Finn said about it being her doing. Rose whistled for Archon who came running over with a stick wedged in his mouth.
"A right nuisance, that dog is," She heard Finn say next to her "Avo knows where he got that stick from - it still has bloody leaves on it." The captain grumbled, seemingly to himself. She chose to ignore how he slandered her dog, looking over the fort for her mentor. Her eyebrows furrowed.
"Where's Walter, Finn?" the Captain shrugged.
"With Swifty, m'guessin'. Talking 'bout battle plans and the like." He'd strode ahead and came back with a wooden plate laden with food.
Her mouth gaped slightly and she looked at him in horror.
"Finn! That's two men's worth, at least!" She exclaimed. Finn waggled his eyebrows.
"Hush it, Toots. After last nights performance you can have whatever you want, trust me on this." Rose stamped down the urge to blush furiously and stammer like a twelve year old.
He pushed the plate into her hand and grinned. She cleared her throat awkwardly.
"Thank you, then." She studied the floor intensely. Finn snorted and Rose looked up to see him wink and grin.
"Just eat your food, Toots." He said with a laugh before sauntering off to mingle with his soldiers. Her jaw clenched and this time she resisted shouting 'tosser' after him and stomping off.
Rose settled for a dignified withdrawal instead, Archon at her heels.
She joined three of the men for their lunch, the others wandering around doing various jobs or trying to catch some shut-eye before the horrors of the night. The men, Gould, Tick and Grove, were nice – if blunt- and she'd learnt that they'd joined the army together.
She was content just to lean back against the rough masonry and listen to their conversation, chewing on her food and rubbing her dogs head.
Tick was poking a stick at the fire, chewing lazily on his rations, splayed out on his side and propping himself up with his elbow.
"Look," He turned his stick to poke Gould in the shoulder, "He's doing it again." Getting a slight grunt in acknowledgement from Gould, who was happily downing his beer, he twisted towards Grove.
"Hey, Grove," He called to the man perched atop boxes of ammunition, legs crossed and book in his hands. "What's this one about? C'mon, tell us the story." He egged, making Grove roll his eyes.
"Oh you wouldn't like it. Violence, swearing, drunken orgies—" He began,
She snickered slightly at the excited answer from Tick.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, it has none of that. And some of the words are really long." He yawned.
Tick shrugged. "Hey, I get by fine with short ones. 'Fact, I'm thinking of a few right now." Cue pointed glare.
Gould made a soft 'ooh' sound, and she held in a snort. Not very ladylike.
"How can you read at a time like this? We could all be dead by morning." Gould asked, receiving a shrug from Grove.
"I promised Captain Finn I'd read a few chapters of the autobiography he's working on, and I don't break promises. Dead or not." He explained, flicking a page over.
That caught her attention. The brave, daring Captain Finn was writing a book. She made a mental note to ask him later. And by ask, she meant laugh at him. Loudly.
"Bah! Tick sniffed, "What a sycophant."
Grove rose an eyebrow, looking up from his-Captain Finn's book. "Syco-what? You wanna do some more reading instead of making up words."
He and Gould chuckled to themselves and the conversation slowly dissolved, Tick grumbling to himself and his poking of the fire turning into viscous jabs.
She was saved from the quiet by Walter hollering her name, and waving her over with an exaggerated motion of his hand.
Rose waved back at him. She stood up and clicked her back, throwing the last bits of food to her collie. She made her excuses to the men and started towards Walter, drawing up next to him with a smile.
"Morning, Walter."
"Morning? Rose, it's after noon!" He laughed, lifting up a hand to ruffle her hair. He asked after her quietly as they made their way over to Major Swift, who was studying bits of paper on a table intensely. He looked up as they approached.
"Ah, good afternoon, Rose!" He said jauntily, muffled only slightly by the pipe he was chewing on.
"See," Walter murmured to her, "afternoon." She chose to ignore him.
"I've been considering Walter's proposition, as he so aptly put it yesterday." Swift told her with a smile, his ever present pipe in the corner of her mouth.
"And?" She asked hopefully. Both of the men present smirked at her.
"Do you need a formal letter of acceptance?" Swift teased, that damned twinkle back in his eyes. Rose smirked back at him.
"Unless you plan to go back on this, Major, I see no need of one." He laughed heartily.
"No, no, my dear. It is said and done. When the time is arrived call and the Swift brigade shall appear." He swept a bow with a flourish, making her laugh.
Walter clapped her on the shoulder with a great paw.
"When are we to leave, princess?" He asked her gruffly.
She chewed her lip, thinking. She should really stop doing that, it drove Logan to distraction… The thought of Logan flared something up inside her, and she stomped it down bitterly, making her decision.
"In a few weeks, Walter. If that is alright with you, Swift?" She announced, extracting herself from Walter's grip and taking a step back to look at the both of them. They were both shocked, true, but they both looked mildly pleased also, Walter leaning more towards proud – as per.
Swift was the first to voice his question.
"Might I ask the reason, Princess?"
Rose's hands clenched and unclenched at her side, and she looked the Major directly in the eyes.
"So many of your men have died, Swift, three the day before I arrived. But last night not one fell." He gaze faltered for a moment. "These men…they're tired. And you've been out here for so long…If I can help I will; I can fight better than most of these men, and I have the advantage of magic on my side. So I'll stay until I can't go on, and at that point I'll leave, and I'm taking you and your men with me."
That stunned them into silence for a moment. Swift barked a laugh whilst Walter looked on, peering at her curiously.
"Rose," He said, moving towards her, "Logan issued these orders, they cant just be disobeyed. We don't the brigade branded as traitors."
"Logan is the traitor here, Walter. Not these men. They'll die here if I don't help." She told him, making him nod.
"Then it's your decision. We'll stay until you deem it time to leave."
She turned to Swift, eyeing the suns path in the sky. Walter had made a fuss about it being afternoon, but it was barely just, plenty of hours left until sundown.
Her face split into a grin.
"So, what's the hunt like in Mourningwood?"