27th Day of Reaping, 565 CY
The Royal Palace, Chendl, Furyondy
Nesco Cynewine couldn't stop pacing.
The narrow confines of the "ready room" seemed to encourage it, and her nervousness made any other activity impossible.
The ranger knew that, just out of earshot, those people who had brought her so much happiness and so much pain were currently once again assembled before His Pious Majesty King Belvor IV.
She could imagine Tojo's imperturbableness, Cygnus' morose acceptance, Zantac's nervousness, Talass' steadfast faith, Argo's easy grin, Aslan's-
Nesco abruptly closed her eyes, stopped pacing and tried to grind her knuckles into the grain of the long wooden table.
Why do I keep doing this to myself? Why can't I just let go?
She resumed her pacing.
Nesco had been home nearly two weeks now but was still just as distracted as the day she'd arrived back. There were no other immediate assaignments for her, although a Vesve patrol was due back in the capital tomorrow, and she hoped with all her heart that she'd be part of it when it headed back out.
She couldn't relax anymore. She wasn't eating or sleeping well, and her family was getting on her nerves even more than usual. Nesco knew this was due at least in part to her current miasma, but she still couldn't help herself. She'd even gone off at one of the family maids when the servant told her she'd mislaid one of Nesco's blankets and couldn't find it.
Of course, she'd apologized later to the poor girl, but that blow-up wasn't characteristic behaviour for Nesco, and she hated herself for it.
Nesco hated herself for a lot of things these days.
She didn't even want to be here, but Comitello told her that her presence had been requested by the Royal Court. Nesco's plan to substitute her brother Joseph for herself on the party's upcoming mission had spluttered when she discovered on her return that Joseph and his fellow officer candidates were currently on an exchange mission to Veluna City and were not expected back for several weeks.
She prayed to Zeus that King Belvor wouldn't force her onto the party. She'd begged Comitello to discreetly make it known to the Royal Court that Lady Cynewine was ready to resume direct service to her liege. Now there was nothing to do but wait- and pace.
Suddenly, the distinctive sounds of people clad in plate armor could be heard in the corridor outside, getting closer. The audience in the throne room was over.
Nesco took a deep breath and positioned herself on the opposite side of the table from the door. She gathered together every shred of her shattered nerves and faced the door squarely.
It opened. Aslan came in.
Nesco flinched but held her position. She'd hoped that someone else- anyone else- would have entered first; given her that extra split-second to regain her composure. However, not only had Aslan entered first, he was the only one coming in. Nesco caught a brief glimpse of the others outside in the hallway, but they were lost to sight as the paladin slowly closed the door behind him.
Aslan, as usual, looked resplendent. That was no surprise; he always seemed to take care in his appearance. Even out in the field, he might look dirty, but never filthy. It was a subtle distinction, but one not lost on Nesco.
The paladin's expression though- it was troubled, despite his obvious attempt to hide it. His eyes bounced off the ranger's face for a moment but with an effort that reminded Nesco of Tojo, he pulled them up and addressed her directly.
"Lady Cynewine. An honor to meet you again." He bowed low, but Nesco had caught the trembling in his voice.
She just stood there.
Aslan cleared his throat. "Lady Cynewine, I must speak with you privately for a moment. Please forgive my impertinence."
Oh my God, Nesco thought suddenly. He feels guilty that he doesn't love me, and he wants to get it off his chest!
Her blood ran cold. She wasn't going to be able to take this. She didn't want to listen to this. It might make Aslan feel better, but it would tear Nesco's heart to pieces again.
No. She couldn't let this continue. She had to stop it. Now.
Nesco raised her hand. "Aslan, please-"
"Lady Cynewine." The paladin was plowing on, heedless. He was no longer looking directly at her. "After you had been," and here he made a gesture with his hand that Nesco had no problem understanding, "we encountered the misbeggoten experiments of Markessa- the cavelings- while we were freeing the prisoners. I had entered their lair to determine if they might present us with an obstacle to our leaving the stockade with our charges..."
Aslan stopped to catch his breath. He never noticed Nesco staring at him.
What is he talking about?
Aslan half-sat, half-collapsed into a chair that groaned under his armored weight. His gauntleted hands clenched into fists as his voice fell into an indistinct murmur.
Nesco walked a few steps around the table towards him. "I'm sorry, Aslan. I didn't catch that. What did you say?"
The paladin looked up at Nesco. His light blue eyes were watering.
"Your brother, Nesco. Sir Miles. I saw him. He had been- turned into a caveling. His surgery scars had healed; there was nothing I could do. I couldn't heal him!
Slowly, Nesco took the seat next to Aslan. "Go on," she said softly. The ranger's heart was pounding in her chest, but she never thought it would be for this reason.
It seemed like an eternity before Aslan finally spoke again.
"I... granted him a release from that mockery of life. Forgive me... Nesco- please forgive me!"
Aslan's head sank down upon the table as if the weight of his helm had pulled it there. Small sobs racked his frame. The paladin might have been trying to say something else, but if so Nesco couldn't understand it through his tears.
That's it- that's what he's been carrying inside himself for the last two months! That's why he didn't bring me back from Chendl! It all makes sense now! Aslan, oh Aslan...
And the incredible irony came upon Nesco Cynewine that it was now she who was the sole bearer of a terrible secret.
For now though, her heart was clear. For the first time in months, she wasn't ashamed of what she felt.
Nesco took Aslan's right hand in both of hers. Somewhat surprised, he looked up at her again.
"Thank you, Aslan," Nesco whispered. "I knew Miles, and I know I can thank you for him. He would not want to have continued on like that. I thank you from him, I thank you for my family-"
She raised his gauntlet and planted a small kiss upon it.
"And I thank you for myself. And I apologize if I have in any way added to your burden."
He stared at her in wonderment.
Nesco felt her face going red. She needed to skirt around this right now. It wasn't the time. "I fell in battle, requiring you to leave the others-"
Aslan wiped his eyes and waved his hand dismissingly. "You saved Talass' life, Nesco. You are our equal in every way, and I am- am very proud to have you stand with us."
He looked off. "These past few days have been difficult for me, Nesco. I almost went down a path I shouldn't have, in an attempt to shield myself from pain, when I should have been honest with you all along. You deserve honesty, and much more." The paladin took a deep breath. "Fortunately, I finally listened to some good advice."
She raised an eyebrow at him.
Aslan gave her a tight smile. "I'm trying to develop a little more horse sense. You'd be surprised at how blind we paladins can be sometimes."
"You knew that first night that I knew nothing about paladins." She gave him a wry look. "I feel no more knowledgeable today than I did then."
"You and me both, Lady Cynewine," he responded shakily, and they both laughed nervously. Aslan slowly began to rise but used one hand to lean on the table for balance. His breathing was still labored.
Nesco looked at him curiously. Aslan was still holding something back.
Cynewine gulped. This isn't over yet. Does he-
But at that point Aslan straightened up fully. "Lady Cynewine," he proclaimed as formally as possible. "I have two extremely important questions I would ask you, but may I bring the others in first?"
Mystified, Nesco could only stand herself while nodding dumbly. Aslan walked over to the door and opened it.
Slowly, almost sheepishly, the other six (Nesco noted Caroline Bigfellow's absence) filed in. They stole as many quick glances at Aslan as they did at Nesco and reminded the ranger more of nervous children than of anything else.
Eventually, after several aborted starts, Aslan began speaking again.
"As you no doubt know, we are to set out on what we hope will be our final mission. Our aim is to bring down The Nine of The Pomarj. As you also know I am sure, we require a representative of the Crown with us in order to secure the backing of the Noble Council for this effort. His Majesty has informed us that we must ask you ourselves if we wish you to be that representative, and that you are, as always, free to refuse."
Aslan hesitated.
"I could certainly understand if that would be your choice," the paladin continued. His voice dropped, and only by sheer effort did he keep his gaze from following. "However," he added, his rich voice returning to its former timbre, "I could not live with myself if I did not ask you."
A quick smile. "And I daresay my companions would not wish to live with me as well, if I did not."
It was a weak jest at best, but the others gave smiles of support. Nesco knew there was more going on here than met the eye, but she also knew an opportunity when she saw one.
She knew what it meant, though. It meant keeping her secret. Revealing such a thing anytime during the course of this mission could lead to distractions that could easily prove fatal, not only to Nesco or Aslan, but to any of them. It meant she would have to be in close proximity to Aslan, with all the heartache that entailed. It meant-
"I would be honored," Nesco said, not quite able to keep the trembling out of her voice, "to stand with you one more time."
She looked at those faces.
The smiles. On all of them. Even (for only a moment, but she was sure) Tojo had smiled. That wonderful feeling began to warm Nesco's chest again.
But now they were all looking nervously at each other again.
What's going on?, Nesco wondered.
Again, more hemming and hawing. Eventually, all eyes turned to their leader. Elrohir, blushing furiously, stepped forward while the others cleared a space around him.
"Lady Cynewine," he began (eventually), "you- you have been with us since the beginning of our service to our king. You've been steadfast, clever, resourceful, brave, skillfull..." he shrugged. "I could go on, but-"
"Please do," Nesco interjected, which generated some more laughs.
After another seemingly interminable pause, Elrohir continued, but it was almost as if he were a different person now. His gaze was steady upon Nesco, and his voice controlled.
"But more than any of that, you've been a true friend to us, Nesco Cynewine. For one reason or another, all of us are outsiders to where we once called home. Never at ease completely with others, we cling to ourselves tightly. That reveals many fears..."
Elrohir paused. "Many weaknesses."
Nesco just stared at him.
The ranger cleared his throat and continued. He looked right into Nesco's eyes and smiled, taking her hands in his.
"We are all in unanimous agreement on this, Nesco Cynewine. When this mission is over, we would very much like to have you be one of us... always."
Nesco gaped. She gawked. She nearly gasped. Her knees grew weak. Never had she thought-
But Elrohir, whether he noticed any of this or not, continued.
"The accomodations may be a bit crowded at first, but we would all be very, very happy if you would come back with us to the Brass Dragon to live with us."
Losing his nerve again, he gestured helplessly with his hands. "After all, you are one of us. If you-"
Elrohir's speech was choked off as Nesco, surprising herself more than she ever thought possible, hurled herself into Elrohir's arms and hugged him fiercely. Exclamations flew from her throat on her own accord, but she couldn't even tell what they were.
Argo shrugged.
"We understand. Take your time, Nesco. Think it over. No need to let us know just yet. We understand. Calm deliberation; that's the key-"
With tears of joy clouding her vision, Nesco shouted, "Shut up, Argo!" and wrapped her hands around the big ranger's neck in a playful chokehold, which nevertheless caused Bigfellow's eyes to bulge out slightly.
Aslan nodded, apparently satisfied. "She'll fit right in."
It took perhaps five minutes for the celebration to die down to where all the participants were once again thinking clearly. For Nesco, she knew this would put her on a path from which there was no turning back.
I'll have to tell Aslan, she knew. Sooner or later, I'll tell him how I feel.
"Well then," Elrohir managed, "that's settled. But we have serious business to attend to first."
He looked at the others. Suddenly pensive, the happiness flowed from his face.
Just when he didn't want them to, words failed the team leader again, and the others could see it.
Elrohir looked at them all. His wife- his friends, old and new. He could also see the faces of those who weren't here- those who were depending on them to come back. Wives. Children.
Elrohir sighed, stopped trying to find heroic words and just used the words he had.
"These Slavelords of Suderham. They've brought a lot of misery to untold hundred, if not thousands of people." He swallowed hard. "Families torn asunder. Loved ones, lost forever."
He saw the somberness of his face reflected in those of his companions.
"They don't know it, but their reign is about to end."
And without thinking, Elrohir drew Gokasillion from its sheath and held the longsword aloft, letting its pure white glow bathe eight upturned faces.
"Are you with me?" he cried.
"YES!" they all shouted loudly, if not quite in unison.
He'd thought that would be it.
Elrohir never expected Gokasillion to speak, aloud or otherwise. The Wyrmslayer was notoriously laconic.
But that resonant voice flooded suddenly and unexpectedly flooded through the ranger's mind. It added to Elrohir's exhilaration at the same time it terrified him.
Come, Elrohir of Aarde. The Earth Dragon awaits!