Sweet and Impractical
by Trisana McGraw
Author's Note: Written for the livejournal community tammydrabbles, prompt 04: love, not actually. This piece takes place during Squire, in the late morning/early afternoon of the day after Sebila's party (aka a few hours after the end of my fic Romantic Notions).
"You take chivalry too seriously," Buri informed Kel. "Just like Raoul. It's sweet, in an impractical way." – Squire
---
Looking back, Buri figured that she was only half-surprised upon opening her door to Raoul. His big hands hooked into his belt, he flashed her a charming grin and asked, "Feeling hungry?"
She considered making a joke about him not being able to restrain himself for a mere three hours, but there was a more pressing problem she needed to address.
A frown darkened Raoul's features upon seeing the look of pity that appeared on her face. He opened his mouth to speak again, but she cut him off. "Raoul, you can't – we can't do this."
His confusion deepened. "Buri, what are you talking about?"
"You know what I mean," she pressed. "This built-in chivalry of yours that I knew was bound to emerge. Granted, we weren't courting before we went to bed, but now you're going to feel the need to have all of our meals together, or to carry the hem of my dress over puddles, or – or to recite poetry to my riding gloves." She had no idea what it was that nobles did, but she realized that she looked foolish flapping her hand around for emphasis, so she shut up.
The big knight was silent for several moments, his black eyes studying her to the point that Buri almost spoke again to fill the silence, but he beat her to it. "Buri, if you hadn't noticed in the last twenty years, there is little that the conservatives and I agree with. Courting rituals are just one of those things. And the last time that I checked, eating a meal together wasn't a binding contract."
She sighed and threaded her fingers together. "I just don't want you to feel obligated to treat me like some virginal maiden you're courting."
His chuckle was coupled with a quick, albeit subtle, appraisal of her body. "Somehow I don't think that will be a problem, darling." The not-yet-distant memory of gasps and moans and a heated embrace that the endearment conjured made her face flush slightly. Buri glanced away quickly before looking into his face again. It amazed her how quickly he could transform from a knight to a man and back.
Raoul's expression had lost some of its jocularity. "Buri, we're friends, comrades-in-arms, whatever you want to call it. And I happen to know that my friend hasn't had the chance to eat breakfast or check on her charges. So, would you like to join me at the barracks?"
She couldn't argue with his logic. Truth be told, her stomach was growling madly, something that made Raoul laugh as they walked to the barracks; she smacked his arm but smiled into his eyes.
Surrounded by their respective subordinates, they spoke of neutral things and laughed over anecdotes from Sebila's party. Raoul mentioned that he was holding another party in his rooms in a few nights' time, and perhaps this time he would be able to lure Gary away from paperwork. Buri wondered if it were her imagination when she felt his hand brush against her knee, but his features betrayed nothing.
Raoul walked her to her door – Here's that chivalry again, she thought with a shake of her head – but before she went inside, he pulled her into a concealed corner and kissed her swiftly.
"I hope for entirely unchivalrous reasons that you come to the party," he murmured against her ear before pulling back and striding away, leaving the K'mir leaning against the doorframe with a bemused grin on her face.
---
With a sigh, Buri stirred and opened her eyes. Every inch of her felt warm and cushioned by the heavy winter blankets; the very air seemed calm and still, not distorted by the bustle of palace servants, messengers, knights, Riders, and Own. She missed these types of mornings.
She decided that it must be somewhat early yet, since beside her Raoul was still snoring into the pillow. She got to her feet, stretching as she did so, and cast a grin at the dozing knight before going to freshen up.
Returning from the privy, she paused in front of the bed. Raoul's large frame was sprawled over the sheets; she couldn't help but smile at the rise and fall of his back as he slept.
The smile faded from her face as she considered her options. I really should leave. The choices presented to her seemed fairly obvious: a warm, soft bed complete with a handsome lover, or her cold desk covered with the Rider reports she'd been putting off all week. Yet, her dilemma went deeper. Getting back into his bed – staying rather than leaving – meant moving in the direction of a relationship, or at the least towards something more concrete and filled with more commitments than their no-strings arrangement. Combing her fingers through her hair, Buri told herself that she had to be realistic, or, better yet, practical about the matter: their friendship would only suffer from too many expectations.
And yet . . . it was still dark outside, and honestly she hadn't gotten much sleep the night before anyway. Raoul had told her the same at breakfast: they weren't giggling noble virgins courting toward marriage. But there remained the chance of letting such silly thoughts overwhelm their liaisons; a snare that, right now at least, she wanted to stay as far away from as possible.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the prickling of goosebumps over her back and arms. Here I am, waxing poetic about what's sensible, she thought wryly as she rubbed her cold skin. It's Midwinter and I'm standing in the middle of the room naked. She quickly made her decision without giving herself time to further over-think it. The only practical thing to do right now is to get warm again.
With that she slid back under the covers, pulling the blanket up to her shoulders. Before she had closed her eyes again, Raoul's broad arm had wrapped around her waist.