Ben fell onto his cot with a loud grunt that sounded like he had somehow damaged himself. Other than his dignity, of course. While during his journey under Eleanor's arm, he had managed to get himself rather sick. He had repeated himself to her saying he honestly didn't mean to. It was the sewers. As soon as the smell hit the edge of his nostrils, he became so nauseous he could not prevent it.
"Ben," Elle said while leaning against the wall. "For the last time, you spend Avo knows how long in that swamp. It isn't a smell you aren't already familiar with."
"Says you," he grumbled, admitting defeat. "The good news is I feel better now. Thanks for asking."
Milo made his circle on the cot next to her, curling up at the foot of the blanket. It was too late now to try to get a room at the tavern. So she took Milo's lead and sat against the wall across from Ben. She would have to settle with the sewers and all its charm. The torches on the walls still flickered, illuminating the backs of the rest of the men lying on the floor with them. Most of them had awakened to the loud stammering of Ben through the halls. He really wasn't all that bad, she admitted. The worst part about it all was that he was singing rather obnoxiously the entire way back. And he wasn't a brilliant singer.
"I can't sleep," Ben said suddenly, sitting up with his back against the wall.
"Sleep isn't exactly easy for me, either."
"It would help to have a bed," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
His words were still slurred, but Eleanor was happy to oblige his pointless ramblings. It wasn't as if there was much else to do at the time.
"You don't have anywhere to go?" she said, only halfway asking.
"No," he sighed. "I don't."
Eleanor leaned her against the cold stone wall. "Neither do I."
They both sat quietly in awkward silence. Eleanor hastily looked around the room for something to spark a conversation but found nothing at all. She caught Ben's eyes for only a moment, realizing he was looking at her quite sternly. When she realized he did no look away as she had, she turned her attention back to him. His brow was lowered and obviously in deep thought. She wasn't sure if he was only spacing out or if there was something serious on his mind.
"What is it?"
He opened his mouth. But then closed it again.
"No, go on."
"I don't want to offend you."
"But you so badly want to say it. So go ahead."
He braced himself. "What was it like? Before this."
"You mean living in a castle."
"More specifically," he paused, "Logan. I'm curious."
"As you should be."
Eleanor took a deep breath. It was the question she knew everyone would want to ask. As much as she wished she could say she was prepared, she was not. Nothing could prepare her for speaking about her brother. The whole kingdom of Albion spoke ill of him. She was the only one, she was certain, that had at least one decent thing to say about him. And be absolutely truthful about it.
"He was a good brother," she said quietly. "He told me stories all the time. He even had a tea party with me once. I remember begging him because he had to leave on an expedition the next morning."
"But was he a good man? How did you know to leave?"
"He was a troubled man," she said hesitantly. "Being burdened by a kingdom and a younger sibling to take care of at such a young age… He was always a hero to me, though. I never could see past his terrible decisions. And then he executed the worker in Industrial. Everything I had believed at that point dwindled to nothing. I knew without a doubt something more had to be done when he…"
"You don't have to go on," Ben picked up as she trailed off. "I already know."
"Well," she sighed with relief. "It's good that someone finally asked."
"I can imagine it is something you wouldn't exactly want to discuss."
"Not in particular, no… but it was bound to happen in any matter," she fiddled nervously with her fingers, trying to think of a subject change. "I know a bit about you, too. I caught a few pages of your biography."
"You did?" he chuckled. "Well, what do you think?"
"Very well written," she smiled back to him. "But it needs some more adventure."
"Aye," he began to sit up further. "It sounds a bit sad, doesn't it?"
Eleanor nodded. "Just think you'll have a few new exciting chapters to add."
"That's not a bad idea," he smiled. "I think I'll skip the being unconscious bit, though."
"Of course! You could fight right next to the Rebel Queen and her valiant canine."
Milo let out a small bark of approval.
"No, no," he shook his head and waved his hand. "I'll come at the last minute when the battle seems lost. And I'll save the Princess and her animal companion. She'll be so grateful; she just might have to kiss me."
Eleanor let out a roar of laughter, much to Ben's dismay.
"Is it not so reasonable to deserve such a prize after that manor of feat?" he said in his most proper voice then joined her with a small fit of chuckling.
"No, no," she caught her breath. "It's just-"
"So you would in fact kiss me, then?"
"I'll tell you what," she sat up very straight with her elbows on her knees. "If you manage to save me, rescue me, sweep me off my feet in the face of danger, I will let you have that kiss."
The look on Ben's face was the epitome of pride. His blue eyes sparkled ever so deviously as his lips curled into a wicked smile. "It's a deal then."
Eleanor pondered to herself if this was some of the trouble Walter spoke to her of. In her defense, it was completely innocent. Even if she had wanted it to be true, which she most certainly did not, there would be no way that she would be in a position to be rescued by the likes of him. With Walter and Swift at her side and the Resistance at her back, there would be no stopping her.
