Author's Note: Life is busy right now. I may not get the next update out until June-ish. I really am trying. Sigh.
Chapter 40-Bargains
Thud.
The jarring sound roused Sofia from her slumber. Thankfully Cedric was still recovering, stirring only slightly. Muffled shouts came from beyond the door. A spate of soft caresses were meant to lull him back to sleep, but a particularly shrill cry of a woman's voice from beyond the wall woke him with a start.
"Shhh, it's okay. Go back to sleep."
A rather annoyed series of grumbles meant he wasn't about to. "Must I? It's not a restful place. I'd rather stay alert, for both our sakes."
"Yes, you need to sleep, you'll heal faster that way. I'll go find out what's happening, just don't move."
Arms began flailing as he tried to sit up, "I'll do no such, ugh, thing." He'd stopped to catch his breath, but then dove into her upset, "The last time I left you to your own devices, ugh, it was nearly your end. I'll not have it Sofia I-uuuggghhh" He'd tried to support his weight on his elbows, but the sharp pang of pain clearly resonated through his features, robbing him of momentum.
Sternly, Sofia stroked his hair but chided him all the same. "I promise I'll be right back, so don't go hurting yourself. Please."
He laid back into the pillow, relaxed by the caresses. "Perhaps you could join me instead of wandering off, there's plenty of room and I daresay it's a bit more comfortable than the floor, if only slightly. Besides, I could use a good bed warmer in this frigid place."
Heat flushed her face at the thought of curling up next to him in bed. "That sounds, it sounds, I… but no, I've got to find out what's happening first." She mirrored his timid smile, then set a soft kiss on the part of his hair to encourage him, even though she declined the offer to crawl into his bed.
"You're simply incorrigible. Well then, do be quick about it, or I'll be forced to come looking for you. I'll crawl along the very floor of this hovel, if I must."
A quick giggle came out quite unintentionally, eliciting a sincere smile from the sorcerer. "Oh Cedric, we both know you can't get out of bed yet, but I'm glad you're feeling good enough to complain."
Hmpf.
He was more amused by the comment then angry, and was trying to mask how happy he was when each giggle escaped her. Simply enjoying each other's company was something she's almost forgotten. As she watched him sink lower into the blankets while trying to suck up every ounce of warmth they could provide, a swirl of emotions set off inside her stomach. Finally she reasoned that a deep longing to accept his offer and curl up under the blankets with him had taken hold, but it would have to wait for another time. The argument outside the door was picking up again.
Just as Sofia shut the door to Cedric's room behind her, a clay plate went flying into the wall, crashing mere inches from her head.
Wands drawn to a stalemate, Lucinda had come, and was none too pleased with the fugitive former-royal sorceress now defensively postured on the opposite end of the small gathering room. The witch looked as if she'd been drug through a knothole backwards, wearing warm but haggard rags to shield herself from the cold, mud splattered along the hemline of her skirt, and hair flowing free, now much shorter than Sofia remembered. Debris was settling along the well-worn floor, knocked from the upturned table between the mages locked in duelist's form.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"What am I doing? Ask the she-witch. She attacked me on sight!" Wand pointed menacingly at Lucinda, Amalthea was not about to drop her defenses. Westin was alongside her, hands raised in an attempt to diffuse the situation. Lacking a wand, however, he was highly ineffective.
"I flew ahead as fast as I could Sofia, don't worry I can take out Madam shifting-faces." Overtly concerned, Lucinda flicked her wand at the elder mage, the tussle beginning anew.
"You want me, come and get me little witch. I'm dying to set your hair on fire again."
"Oh is that so? More like I'll strip you naked mid-battle, again, like I did in front of that whole battalion in Mazida."
Amalthea growled at the comment. "After I launched you into a snowdrift and single-handedly caught a dozen of your ilk. If it weren't for her I'd have ended your sorry existence that day." Amalthea's wand was flicking toward Sofia now, Westin standing between his mother and cousin to prevent anything from being cast.
"Stop it Mom, please." Westin cried out.
"This isn't endearing you to the resistance, Amalthea." Sofia groaned.
Lucinda stood confidently, with an heir of moral superiority. "But you didn't, we won then and we are gonna win this war. Drag your traitorous tail back to Maldonia, we don't have any room for informants here."
"She's going to help us, I know it." Sofia stated calmly, hands raised in an attempt to diffuse the situation.
Around Westin's shoulder Amalthea peered, eyeing the witch menacingly. "Informant? Please, as if I'd go through all this trouble to find out how awful the gruel is around here. It's a wonder this undernourished, ramshackle, mess of a resistance has gotten as far as it has."
"I'll show you just how ramshackle we are!" As Lucinda lunged Sofia blocked her advance with her body.
Amalthea grimaced, edging away from Westin and posturing threateningly.
"Bring it."
"Anytime traitor."
"PLEASE! Both of you stop this!" Lunging forward, Sofia managed an arm around Lucinda's back and a hand on her wand, encouraging her friend to lower her guard.
"But she's the enemy Sofia, this has to be a plot! Now she knows where Birk lives. This place isn't safe anymore. We've got to end her or get you all out of here, immediately."
"We're waiting for Papa to come home." Sofia countered. "Until he hears her out there's nothing else to do."
"But she can't be trusted." Lucinda pleaded. "Just look at the hate in her eyes, she's waiting for her opportunity to strike." Slowly Sofia turned, sizing Amalthea up. There had always been confliction there, the many discussions they'd had were always fraught with the guilt regret brings.
"I don't think so. She's here to protect Westin, and has agreed to give us information."
Fuming, Amalthea shot back, "Give the leader of this debacle information, not her. I'd rather my own hair was torched then help her."
"I can arrange that, if you insist." Lucinda wrinkled her nose up and stuck her tongue out at the woman, but Sofia's grip held true.
"This isn't helping Lucinda, please let's talk outside."
A large exasperated huff, and finally Lucinda lowered her wand, Amalthea repeating the gesture in kind. Escorting her friend outside, Lucinda shot many suspicious glances backward before Sofia pushed her out the door. Some distance away sat a row of boulders, along a fast moving stream that cut through the squalid village, the entirety of the area covered in a thick blanket of new-fallen snow. Lucinda angrily paced back and forth, flattening a path in front of the rocks while Sofia gripped the sides of her arms to conserve heat. "We can't trust her Sofia, I know I did some bad things when we were little and was able to turn my life around, but she's rotten to the core. Did you forget? She's killed people. As in, they're dead now. There's no coming back from that."
"This is war, and she's hurting, just like everyone else who came from Friezenburg." Lucinda froze, then turned, shaking off Sofia's statement.
"Since when do you forgive people for killing? I know you like to forgive and forget Sofia, but she's a menace."
Her thoughts turned back to the sorcerer anxiously awaiting her return, and the sins he was guilty of. Were the injuries he sustained true atonement for his actions? "Well, I think she's going to help my Papa win this war. Everyone deserves a chance at forgiveness, if they truly want to change for the better."
"You've changed." Lucinda stopped pacing, gave a soft laugh and flopped onto a rather tall rock stretching her arms out and taking in the rare glimpse of sun this land afforded. "War is hexing awful."
Sofia let out a long sigh, "Maybe I have changed, but this whole war has me questioning my definition of morality. Everywhere I turn something happens to challenge my assumptions. I can see how both sides of this conflict demonize the other to solidify sympathy for their position, but I think that just ends up hurting everyone involved even more."
Lucinda's head looked to explode, so Sofia tried another approach. "Think about it, instead of sitting down and talking about the problem we amplify it and make the ones we're fighting out to be inherently bad. I know, because I was guilty of doing it too. Amalthea was the bad guy, then King Aaron was the bad guy, now it's Victor. But, when we do that, there will never be a middle ground to resolve the conflict, because you can't reason with pure evil, so we just go on fighting whoever we deem the 'bad guy' is. It's always the people who don't agree with us who we label as 'bad', even though the names change."
"So what are you saying, that Amalthea really isn't a bad guy, she's just misunderstood."
"Well, yes. I guess what I'm saying is that, by demonizing her it dehumanizes her, whereas we need to do the opposite. Everyone needs to know that the people of Friezenburg are suffering, and that Maldonians are being poisoned. That also means Amalthea needs to be given a chance at redemption, and maybe so does King Aaron, and maybe even king Victor. They're all victims of this mess too, just like my Papa, Westin, and all the other's who were taken. Amalthea was abducted and forcibly married to a Maldonian, while Aaron and Victor inherited this problem from their fathers. Maybe, if we try to see what's happening from other people's perspectives, we can all come together and fix it."
Lucinda paused, turning to her friend, "Alright, fine. Maybe we do twist events to make ourselves seem like the righteous ones. I guess it's easier to think someone can't understand your point of view because they're bad than to think they might also be right. But that doesn't mean they can all be forgiven, does it?" There was a sadness there, heavy eyes and pain lurking behind them. Sofia's thoughts turned to what Westin had mentioned briefly outside the king's chambers, on how Lucinda was fighting with her lover due to past deeds.
"You haven't worked it out with Axel yet, have you friend?"
A large groan, and Lucinda flopped backward onto the rock once more. "Men. He couldn't fathom why I did what I did at the Harvest festival, and well, we're not speaking."
Sofia came to sit alongside her taller, slender friend on the adjacent rock. "I'm sorry friend."
A soft sniffle came from the witch, a pent up sadness creeping out, "Don't be. You tried to warn me but I was so caught up in ending this war I wouldn't listen." The girl's head dropped to the side, loose tendrils of jet-black hair blown in her face by the frigid wind whipping by.
"This is what I'm talking about, friend. As long as you're open and honest with him, he'll understand where you're coming from."
"I tried, but I hurt him, and he just shut me out. There is no forgiveness for me in his heart." Sofia began stroking her friend's hair, as tears began flowing from the rejected girl.
"I'm sure that's not true Lucinda. I bet he's reacting because he's conflicted. He loves you and his father, and that put him in a very uncomfortable place. Every time I spoke to him he was desperately in love with you. I can try talking to him if you can't, maybe it'll help him sort out what he's feeling."
"Don't Sofia. Please, right after we fought your father pulled Axel aside and tried to give him 'the talk' about making it official before I ended up expecting, and he was so hurt, upset, and embarrassed he starting shouting that he'd never marry me. Enduring that was awful, so please, just don't do anything."
"But…"
"Please. Work your diplomacy magic on everyone else. There's no hope for me." Several minutes passed, Sofia stroking Lucinda's hair as her own mother would do in this situation, until Lucinda was able to regain composure.
"Is that why you're so mad at Amalthea? You're really mad at yourself?"
Overcome, Luicinda couldn't hold back any longer, and started balling. Sofia gripped her tight, letting the emotions flow. "Sofia, don't take this the wrong way, but the next time you bang on my window in the middle of the night, I'm gonna tell you to go hex yourself, then roll over and go back to sleep."
"Don't worry, if I ever get the urge to set off on a new adventure there's at least ten people who will nail my feet to the floor before you get the chance."
Sofia bumped Lucinda softly with her shoulder, forcing a small smile from her friend as the crying stopped. "Westin mentioned that the king knows everything now. I'm sorry Sofia, this has been bruising, for all of us." Lucinda chuckled introspectively, then shifted on the rock. Her shortened hair blew forward into her eyes. Annoyed, she tossed it back, but the stubborn strands refused to obey, and flapping back into her face. "Well, I guess everything that's happened isn't so bad."
"That's the spirit!" Sofia beamed.
"After all, I got a new haircut."
There was a slight pause, both girls staring at each other, while a smile creept up on Lucinda's face.
Sofia broke out in a sincere grin, trying to contain the laughter. "You know, Amalthea may be a daunting royal sorceress, but she's an awful stylist, she burnt the back all wrong."
The girls burst out giggling as Lucinda shook her burnt strands back and forth, pretending to primp the shortened look. "You're just jealous. This look is all the rage in the fashionable trenches of Friezenburg." Doubled over, they laughed at the absurdity of this whole situation, Lucinda shoving Sofia slightly. "You watch your back, okay? I'm sure that traitor would be happy to oblige you with a similar cut."
"I will."
"Amalthea was right about something, you know." Lucinda kept chuckling through the words as Sofia shivered, once again gripping her arms to conserve warmth.
"About what?"
"Without us, it would have been just like the last war. They wouldn't have had a chance." Sofia nodded, having already come to that realization. "I've been doing all I can, but I really needed your help friend. They need your help."
"I know."
"Do you? Because when Birk gets here, I'd bet my best broom that he's going to tell you he's got everything under control and you can go somewhere safer without worry, but it's a bold-faced lie."
Sofia nodded, taking it in. "He's doing it because he loves me and doesn't want to see me hurt, but, when I saw the look on Westin's face when I told him his father died…"
Lucinda's hands were on Sofia's, startling her. "You were shaking friend. Are you okay?"
Softly she brushed Lucinda's concern away, "Oh no, I'm okay, I'm kind of cold, and I was just remembering bad things that happened yesterday. Very bad things." Chief among them was Cedric's near death experience on some nameless hillside, but Lucinda didn't pry.
"I can conjure you a thicker coat than that sorcerer's robe, if you'd like." Lucinda offered.
Her thoughts turned back to the cottage. She'd been away for far too long. Cedric was bound to be anxious by now. "No, that's okay. I'd better get going. Do you know when Birk and the other's will be here?"
"Probably an hour or so."
"Thanks, I've got to tend to Cedric now, maybe you could take Westin to see his father's grave until they arrive? He needs to mourn."
As she stood and turned back to the cottage Lucinda straightened. "That's a good idea. Thanks." Before Sofia could leave Lucinda began dusting the loose snow off her dress, "And Sofia."
Standing in the ankle deep snow, Sofia paused, turning back slightly before Lucinda continued, "I'm glad you finally brought him here. To help us."
"Cedric?" The witch smiled, and chills not entirely from the fallen snow were sent shivering up Sofia's arms. To some extent she was afraid to delve too deeply into Cedric's transgressions, lest a general distain amongst the Friezenburgers be borne for him, even here in his only envisioned refuge. "Ahhh, yes. He's here."
"That's great. We can really use another sorcerer, one that we can trust."
The words haunted Sofia's steps back to the cottage. As each one sunk into the newly fallen snow her thoughts trailed back over Cedric's sins.
Was he someone the resistance could trust?
A large, steaming bowl of water in her hands and fresh towels draped across her arm, she took a deep breath before entering the room where he lay resting, preparing herself for the tongue lashing that would ensue. He did not disappoint.
"In all creation Sofia, where have you been?! Be honest, were you off fighting, or, worse." He gulped strangely as he said the last bit, and it appeared he'd tried to locate his shoes, judging by the one functional leg hanging off the bed and blankets messed.
Softly she set down next to him on the bed, letting the bowl settle into her lap while pulling the blanket away. In as calm a voice as she could manage, she responded. "Your shoes are under the bed Cedric."
Embarrassed he'd been had, his whole topside retracted slightly, "That still doesn't explain the tardiness. Sofia, this place could be one moment away from a siege."
Running a washcloth through the bowl in her lap, then wringing it damp she slowly turned to dab some dried blood out of his hair. "It's okay, we're perfectly safe here. Lucinda was arguing with Amalthea. I had to calm them down and speak with my friend."
Soft strokes of the washcloth were finding their way down the sides of his face, the water in the bowl upon her lap filled with ribbons of pink that darkened each time she wrung out the towel. He was grunting his displeasure, but said nothing further antagonistic. Instead, his eyes fell closed, letting her tend to him.
The towel moved along, guided by her unsteady hand. Down his neck, stopping at his collar. His shirt was covered in stains, horrible reminders of the trauma he'd assumed.
"I-i-if you're uncomfortable you can stop. I w-w-w-wouldn't want to frighten you."
His nervous words jarred her back into the moment. "Hmm? Oh, no, I was just looking at your poor clothes." The towel was set down on the rim of the bowl, as her hands traced over his chest. Her breathing became labored, wracked with guilt for the part she played in this outcome.
"Sofia? You needn't feel obliged, I've never been what one would call coordinated, and have years of experience tending to myself, with a proper wand. Sofia? Sofia?"
As soft as a morning breeze, "you almost died" drifted from her before she crumpled over the bowl, nuzzling her head into the side of his, practically the only part of him left unscathed.
Several sniffles later, and a weary hand found it's way into her curls. "There, there dearest, with a few days of mending I'll be set to rights, and I've you to thank for it."
Slowly she pulled away. "I have to help, somehow. Oh, I'll wash your clothes right away."
"Do you suppose, you might venture some more healing spells first? I've a greater need for those than starched britches."
"Sure, I'll do anything I can."
The thin blanket was pushed further aside, exposing all of his many layers. Unnerved by his stares, each movement to free him from the stained clothing had to be undertaken with the utmost care. The robe was folded and set aside, as was his vest. She went for the star around his neck but was met with resistance. "Not that Sofia. Never that." Another smile, and now she was confronted with what lay beneath his shirt. Jittering hands finally overwhelmed her, forcing her to pull away, back to safety at her sides.
"Maybe you should tell me where it hurts. I'll start there." An odd series of blinks were flung at her, the hint of a blush spread across his cheeks.
"Everywhere imaginable and all the crannies in between."
A small giggle came out, which she immediately stifled, but it got him to smiling, which was worth the awkwardness. "Just tell me where to start. Be entirely honest, I want to help you."
"You want honesty?" She nodded, and he rolled his eyes. "Very well then. Honestly, All this honesty is giving me hives. You can start wherever you please."
She had to cover her face to keep from bursting out giggling, despite his egging her on to do so. "Cedric."
"Not even a little giggle for my efforts? Well then, the knee is chief among my complaints. It's twisted and snapped, perhaps beyond repair." She looked down and indeed, one knee was swollen to twice the side of its match. It put a large damper on the mood. "But perhaps it's best to start in the most pressing area, up top."
She didn't mean to, but gulped a bit as she started undoing the buttons on his shirt in earnest. She'd undressed him before, when he'd been out in the rain all night and terribly ill, but this was different. Even though she had been invited this time, now he was watching, intently interested on what she was doing, and added to the pressure was the knowledge that any false move was sure to evoke pain. Finally the buttons were undone, and the extent of his injuries made known. Some areas has faded to a yellowish brown, recipients of her frantic healing spells in Enchancia, but his entire left side was a frightening shade of purple.
"I suppose it's as bad as I imagined it, I resemble a watercolor left in the rain. Do you wish to stop sweetheart? You look traumatized, more so than I."
"No, no you definitely need help." A deep breath, and her wand was raised high into the air, with a flourish he could be proud of. "Okay, what's the spell?"
"Have you any fairy dust or pixie willow shaving's in that bag of yours?" Sofia glanced over, and rummaged a bit through her bag to check, but she already knew the answer. "No, sorry. Just the whompus root and willow's weed for burns."
Another huff of displeasure came from the sorcerer. "Well then, I suppose we'll just have to make do, repeat after me, and flick the wand in a circular manner."
"Got it."
A deep cough cleared his throat, and as clearly as if they were practicing spells in his tower, he bellowed,
"Magic Spirits,
Of Sea and land,
Heed this order,
My stern command,
I summon thee,
My bidding do,
Make broken bones,
Reformed anew!"
Brows furrowed, she stared incredulously at him. "Wait. That's it?"
"Were you expecting Latin?" he scoffed.
"Well, yes. That spell just sounds silly."
"Not every spell is in Latin Sofia. Don't you remember when I conjured that house for those Dunwitty peasants when I was after your Amulet, er, well, that is neither here nor there I suppose. Just flick your wand decisively as you chant it, and do remember to look over your spell book on primary incantation charms when…." That haughty air he'd adopted fizzled, "I suppose you won't be going back home for a spell book in the foreseeable future."
They both looked away at the uncomfortable truth. Spell cast, healing auras fell about his chest, seeping into the purplish-black bruising along his side. "Is it working?"
"I haven't the foggiest, as the bones themselves do not feel pain, and it would take more than just one spell and a day's rest to heal bone. But let's assume for argument's sake that it is, and continue onward."
She moved on to healing spells she was more comfortable with, the bruising fading further as they sat in silence.
The house around them creaked from winds whipping through the clearings. Cedric seemed intent on saying something, but would stop before he could muster the courage. After the third attempt Sofia turned to face him, trying to ascertain what he was grappling with. A gentle caress to his ear, curling his jet-black hair back into position, eased the tension. It was enough to finally let the words come. "I feel I owe you an explanation Sofia. I wanted you to stay in Enchancia, in anonymity for your actions, where at the very least you were safe. Now you've gone and lost your family, I know how important they were to you sweetheart."
"I know you were worried sick, and that's why you were casting spells on me and following me around, and it's even why you lied." The relief he demonstrated at the comment was premature, for Sofia couldn't hold it in. "BUT, I wish you'd have just told Rolland the truth, like I asked."
Teeth were clenched, and that acerbic tongue of his whipped out an unfiltered response. "I'm quite certain I was better off before truths began spilling out of me, and the lie was meant to keep you from his wrath. He is a king Sofia, his vengeance is fierce and his edicts unchallenged." He gestured wildly at his broken chest and twisted leg. "He called for your, well for the 'mystery mage's' neck in a noose. I couldn't take the chance, not with your precious life." To stop him from doing unnecessary harm she flung both hands at his shoulders, connecting softly, then gently coaxing him back down onto the bed. "Then there is the not-so-insignificant matter of my past failings. I suppose the truth needed to be spoken. I'd kept silent for fall too long, the guilt eating away at me. In that moment, I just wanted to wound him, and well, the truth poured out of me, like a sieve."
Her gaze fell away, instead she moved her wand around to the far side of him, leaning over his chest to stream continual healing magic as more minutes passed in silence. "Sofia, what's bothering you? It's more than the bruises, isn't it?" She shook her head and bit her lip, but he wasn't having it. "I know you better than that, you're dwelling on something rather unpleasant. Out with it."
"When he…" The healing magic stopped. "When Rolland was hurting you, you almost seemed… happy. It was so scary to see you like that."
"I wasn't particularly happy, I would label it akin to…. Relief." Her confusion must have been apparent, so he clarified, "I've spent years anticipating that outcome Sofia. Dreading it, fearing for my very life, all the while hating him so but knowing he had the power to end my existence with a single word. Now that it's done, I feel, relieved. As if the very sword of Damocles has been tossed aside. He's exacted his penance on me."
"But this, it's so awful. He nearly killed you, with his bare hands."
Cedric looked uncomfortably down at his body, then let his head fall back, staring up at the ceiling. "If the situation were reversed, and it was he who was responsible for the death of my wife, the mother of my children…"
"You feel like you deserved this, don't you?"
He nodded. "I would have wanted to do the same, or worse. I think any man might, given the opportunity." Slowly he turned back to face her, reaching his hand over and setting it gently on top of hers. "I've a million other reasons to hate him Sofia. At the very least now I've paid for my sins." He tried to sit up, to get closer to her, but drawing his knees up made him yelp in pain.
"Stop! You're hurting yourself. Just lay back." Her attention turned to the injured knee. "What spell can I do to help it? I'm getting really good at numbing things."
"That won't actually heal it Sofia, and I'm not entirely sure which spell would be the most effective. I'll need to get a better look at the extent of the damage, to deduce specifically what can be done." He started reaching down but she stopped him.
"I said I'd help you, so stop already."
"Right. Well then I…. I b-b-b-beg your pardon? Did you s-s-say…" He went crimson. Not sure why, she bent down and tried rolling his pant leg up, but was unable to pull it up over his severely swollen knee. Every attempt was met with wincing and short gasps. Quickly she realized the only way, was the other way.
The blushing started to make sense. As her hands hovered over the top of his britches, an unsteady, "Is it okay?" came out of her. "I can't do it the other way, but I, remember you said that you never wanted me to take them off."
"W-w—well actually, that is to say, n-n-n-not never, b-b-b-but just, just not now, not b-b-before…." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, clearly nervous. "I suppose an exception can be made, in this instance. No matter what it wants, the rest of me is simply incapable at present to follow through."
She felt the blood drain from her arms, collecting as heat in her face as one, sweeping motion shot through her body. What IT wants. Barely touching at first, she went for the clasp. His hand shot between her and the buckle. "On s-s-second thought, you're not seeing me at my best, though I suppose you've seen it all before, b-b-b-but even still…."
"When you were sick? I didn't look." He seemed surprised by the comment, eyes opening wide to study her reaction. "I didn't want to violate your privacy more than necessary, so I closed my eyes."
After a moment to process, a loud burst, somewhat of a chuckle, came out of him. "You're serious? But then, what of all the other times, you, you, you t-t-t-touched…"
"It was my copy. I saw what she was doing to you when I was trapped in my amulet, and I'm sorry."
"I see. You've already done enough dear, and I needn't traumatize you further this afternoon. After a few days I'll be able to manage it myself."
"No! You need help now and I want to do it, I'm just… nervous." Saying it out loud cut the tension in the air. They were both navigating the waters of their altered relationship dynamic, unsure of where the pieces would fit. After a long pause, he moved his hand away from the buckle, inviting her forward.
She struggled with the thing, a combination of nerves and trying to be as minimally invasive as possible, it only served to lengthen how long the process took. Her hand kept slipping, landing softly into parts unmentionable, to which she'd jerk away suddenly. After several attempts he growled, "Sofia. Dear. If you keep pawing at it like that I may have to rescind what I said earlier about the rest of me keeping it at bay."
She froze, mouthing 'sorry' over and over again, until he finally stopped her. "By Merlin Sofia, help me to sit upright and I'll do it myself."
One swift yank and the bucket gave way. Nerves had gotten the better of both of them, and quickly she pulled on the blankets, covering his more private bits. The pressure relaxed immediately, even though she was working the pants off of him. By the time she got them to his knees she was left with a soft pang of disappointment in herself that she'd shown less confidence than her doppelganger in such things.
"It really wasn't you, then, who was so forward with me, was it?"
Pants off, she folded the stained garment in her hands, adding them along with his socks to the pile. "Sorry. I wish it was, but it wasn't."
When she finally gained enough composure to look back at him that goofy grin was plastered on his face. "You wished it? That's... a promising start." She barely noticed his attentions turn to the knee stuck out of the blanket, consumed by how embarrassed she was that she'd admitted to wanting something so physical from him. "Hmmm, not good. It's worse than I assumed." Cedric was inspecting his knee, brows furrowed. "I'm in dire need of Horntail shavings, they'll form the base of a salve that should heal the tendons. I don't suppose the apothecary in the capital is under control of these rebels you've aligned with? It typically stocks such an item."
"I don't think so, but my Papa is on his way here. I'll ask him." Cedric went sheet white. "What's the matter?" The man broke out in jitters.
"H-h-h-he's coming here, now."
"Yes, to learn what Amalthea knows and win the war. Why are you upset?"
Arms went flailing, followed by cringes of pain. "How am I to make a g-g-g-good impression on the man in this state! And n-n-nak, n-n-n, disrobed by your hands no less, Sofia he's the last chance I have at a d-d-descent imp, impresssss… OOOOH, my last chance to receive your family's b-b-b…. b-b-b-blessing! The man will skewer me and all will be lost, oh, oh… Merlin's mushrooms."
She started giggling wildly to see him all worked up over meeting her father. "Don't worry, he's very kind, as far as I can tell, and pretty fair minded too." Half a smile crept up on Cedric's weary face, and gently Sofia ran her fingers through his tresses. "If you need horntail shavings, I'll get you those shavings. But first, you need some sleep while I wash these."
A quick numbing spell was cast to soothe the troubled knee, and minor protestations were proffered. None were accepted, but he stubbornly refused to sleep. Instead, he launched into a panic when she tried to leave with his clothes. "I'll be fine Cedric, I'm just going to wash these by the river outside."
"But, I…" He clung to the blanket as if it were a shield. He was, after all, naked and defenseless in a strange land.
"Here."
She set her wand beside him on the bed, "Oh no Sofia you must protect yourself. I insist."
A soft kiss finally silenced his protestations. "I'll be back quick, and then promise me you'll get some sleep."
"As long as you're here, beside me and safe, you can count on it. I feel as if I could sleep for years on end with you in my arms."
Lye and stones were beat against the fabric, lifting the last traces of Rolland's vengeance from Cedric's signature wardrobe with all the care she typically imbued in activities involving her sorcerer. So cold her fingers burned, she plunged his robe deep into the rushing waters of the frigid stream. Musing on why she always paid special attention to his needs above others, to the point her fingers were now turning purple for the effort, it became clear that she's has a certain proclivity for him long before she was conscious of it. All that talk of wanting her to warm his bed and what it felt like to paw at him through his trousers sent odd tingling sensations down her arms, straight through to her core. If only she hadn't been so shy, if only she had been able to follow through. The exact opposite of her copy, after all. How could she have been so naïve to think it was okay to deceive him like that?
"Spill. What's going on Sofia?"
The pants went floating down the river, dropped in surprise after hearing Lucinda's voice hovering over her shoulder. The witch flicked her wand, and the pants floated up into the air, hovering above Sofia's head. Embarrassed, she lunged, trying to grab the garment while looking around frantically to ensure no one witnessed this.
Being taller, Lucinda easily seized the incriminating item, then held it between them. "So, whose are these, exactly, and why are you blushing while you wash them?"
"I'm not, blushing. Am I?" It was almost certain she was, she still felt flush from taking them off him earlier. Lucinda's head fell to the side, one eyebrow raised.
"Uh huh. Well, they're not yours, and they're way too skinny to be Westin's. Your father isn't here yet, not that he's skinny either, and so that leaves….. Are they Cedric's? Your mentor has you doing his laundry now?"
"No, I offered to do it. His injuries are pretty bad and I just, wanted to help."
"Oh WOW you're so red! Wait, if he's hurt really bad how did he get them off?" The dots connected in Lucinda's mind as a grin spread from ear to ear.
Mortified, she ripped the pants from Lucinda's hand, "I did hardly anything, h-he did most of it. It was little. I mean I just helped a little. That's all. Oh…" She turned away, so mortified her words were coming out muddled.
"Just how, little, are we talking here Sofia?" Lucinda's hands were up now, fingers extended, about half a foot from each other. "This little, or…" Her fingers began to converge, the sudden realization what she was implying washing over Sofia.
"Eep! That's NOT what I meant!"
Lucinda burst out laughing, "Of course it's not, but you should see your face! I didn't think you could get any redder, but WOW!"
Sofia's scrunched up her nose, trying to will the color from her cheeks as Lucinda cackled, "Oh Sofia, you're so innocent. Caught holding a man's pants and your all embarrassed. How do you ever expect to get a lover if you can't even look at a man's pants without blushing? Oh Wes, come look, this will cheer you up!"
Oh no. Around the bend came her cousin, looking somber. Eyes wide, the uncomfortable situation induced a slight panic. She flung the wet pants behind her, but couldn't conceal the rest of the pile being whipped dry by the wind as it hung from branches above.
"Those are Cedric's clothes, aren't they Sofia?" Her cousin had stopped, staring up at Cedric's socks and vest.
"Uh, yes?"
"Sofia helped get him out of them too, and this girl is so embarrassed, just look at her. She's the color of a tomato. She's probably never seen that part of a man before, have you Sofia? Not even your brother?"
"Of course not!" Sofia shouted, "Why would I ever watch James change?!"
"Isn't it normal for siblings to see each other, they do live together. I saw the men I lived with in the mines change all the time." Westin asked quite honestly. Lucinda was nodding and laughing, trying to stay upright, all at Sofia's expense.
Sofia jumped to hang the pants on the nearest available branch. "No, and can we stop talking about this."
Westin bent down, near the river's edge as Lucinda pried further, "Not yet. I'm sure Wes would like to know how little something is first."
"AAGGHH!" Sofia cried, covering her face. Westin gulped, and was now sharing in Sofia's crimson hue and glancing around cautiously.
"Not so loud, people could hear you Luci, and this isn't Enchancia. Folk here can be more traditional and not very accepting of, different lifestyles."
Sighing, Lucinda did drop her voice, then practically bounced. "Yeah, sure Wes. Sorry. Oh I know! Sofia, you should let Wes return them. What do you say Wes, if his clothes are here that means they're not on him right now." She winked at the young man, whose expression brightened immediately.
The beaming smile of her cousin looking up at her was matched by Sofia's grimace. "I don't think that's a good idea, at all. Cedric would probably be liv-"
"Girls!" Birk was some distance off, walking through the village surrounded by equally battle-worn men, and behind him trod a much taller but rather crestfallen Axel.
"Papa!" Excited to see him and be rid of this conversation, Sofia bounded over, Birk wrapping her in a powerful embrace.
"It's so good to see you sweet pea, and you too Wes." The men gave each other somber looks, the gravity of Sal's passing evident on their countenance. "I don't know what Lucinda has told you, but I want you to know, he didn't suffer."
Westin turned toward the river, nodding slowly. "I know. He died a hero, like he always wanted. It's okay. I said goodbye."
"Come here nephew." Sofia let go so that her Papa could embrace Westin. There was a strength they shared, forged in bondage, one that could not be broken, even by death. "Now Sofia. About this Maldonian defector, I'm glad you've come and brought us this opportunity sweet pea, but now that she's here we can handle this without you."
"Papa don't. I know the resistance needs my help, and I no longer have a home in Enchancia, so please don't send us away." Birk's brows furrowed, a stern gaze penetrating her.
"Tell me exactly what that king has said to you sweet pea."
"Rolland didn't, no it's what I did Papa. I told him everything, and was kind of responsible for blowing up the front of his palace. We can't go back, so please, don't…"
"We? Do you mean Amalthea? the Maldonian royal sorceress." Birk stole a glance at Axel, who returned the gesture.
"Well actually I was talking about Cedric, but yes, Amalthea needs to stay also. I know she can help us win this war."
He father shook his head slowly, not in disagreement, but under the weight of the decision he was to make, soon. "I've been discussing with Axel, who knows her well, and he is mystified as to why she would come to us now if not to try and undermine us from within."
"She's here because she is Westin's birth mother." Birk's eyes went wide as Sofia relayed Amalthea's tale of woe, leaving no detail spared. When it was done, Axel had been shaking his head, trying not to make eye contact with Lucinda who was also listening intently to the historical relay.
"I never knew. She never spoke of her past, she never really spoke much at all except to acknowledge commands from my father or lambaste Cecelia." Axel had drawn his hand into his fist, clearly upset that he was a passive witness to this woman's trauma all along. "I guess it makes sense why she was never really kind to Cecelia. I always thought she was sort of heartless, but, it sounds like she didn't choose to have her."
"All this doesn't mean she's really on our side now." Lucinda interjected. "This could all be a plot, to expose any weaknesses she can find."
"You're right. I wouldn't put it past her. She's calculating." Axel agreed. When he spoke Lucinda turned away, but Sofia stood watching the pained expression on the prince. He was clearly unhappy with the current state of affairs between them. Birk glanced between the two, then shook his head, as if he's been in the middle of this lover's spat one too many times.
Sofia stepped forward, taking her Papa's hand in her own. "I would never have led her here if I wasn't certain that she'd die to protect Westin, her long lost son. If you trust his devotion to the cause, then you don't have to worry about Amalthea betraying us. Isn't that right Wes."
"Wes?"
There was silence. Westin had wandered away, more intent on collecting Cedric's clothing from the branches instead of becoming engrossed in the decisions on his mother's fate. Sofia hurried over, an awkward smile plastered on her face. "Uh, I'll take those."
"But I want to show him how much I care."
She leaned in, as discrete as possible. "It's better if I do it Wes, and, we need to talk, in a bit. It's about Cedric." Gingerly Sofia took the garments, still damp though whipped in the frigid wind as Westin went blank, turning away and shaking to avoid whatever Sofia had to say.
Through this, all eyes of those assembles were trained on Birk, who was lost in deep thought, chin held in his hands. "Well, I'm not going to decide here. I need to look that sorceress in the eyes. You can tell a lot of a person by what's lurking in their eyes."
"You're serious?" Lucinda worriedly exclaimed, "She's a traitor of the highest order."
"We'll see." With that, Birk turned, the entirety of those assembled making their way slowly to Birk's family home where Amalthea was supposedly lingering. He hung back a bit in the crowd so that Sofia came up alongside him, Cedric's robe and garments haphazardly strewn over her arms.
"I appreciate what you said, sweet pea. Your high opinion of someone speaks volumes to me."
A gentle smiled graced her lips at the comment. "Thanks Papa. That means a lot to me right now." Worry grew over him, as his gaze turned downward to her arms. "Say, whose clothes are you clinging to? Wes seemed hung up on them."
"Oh, um, they're Cedric's."
"Well I'll be."
Confused, Sofia turned to face her chuckling Papa as they walked "Wes finally caught his eye, eh? I'm happy for them, but do keep it to yourself for now dear. People here can be judgmental." Sofia began shaking her head frantically but was cut off before she could correct his assumption. "The best strategy is to fight battles one at a time, after all."
Battles. Sofia turned to look behind her. Wes had hung back at the river, and was staring forlorn into the water as it whipped through the clearing. This was a battle she wasn't eager to fight.
Stone cold eyes met them as they entered the common room. Wherever Amalthea had been holed up since the encounter with Lucinda, she had emerged, a frightening determination carved into her features.
"You there, leader of this debacle."
The room had been reassembled, Sofia's aunt arranging the last of the papers that had been tossed aside, setting them on the table in some sort of prepared gesture.
Birk strode forward, standing up against the table in the middle of the room. "Come forward, Amalthea of Friezenburg. I wish to speak with you."
The woman's eyes narrowed, and reluctantly she stepped forward till almost banked against the opposite side of the table. "Indeed. But first, I need assurances."
A long silence passed, everyone looking at this, a battle of wills across the planked wood. Sofia stepped forward, but Birk lifted a hand to stop her. He appeared to not like what he saw lurking in Amalthea's eyes.
A rush of cold streamed through the room, tickling the hairs on Sofia's neck and making her shiver. Westin had finally arrived, and Amalthea's softened upon seeing her son walk through the door.
A hand was set solidly onto the table. Birk had seen her reaction, and decided.
"What are you prepared to offer the Sons of Friezenburg?"
A wide smile grew on the woman's lips. "I know not only the current positions for all Maldonian and Friezenburg troops still loyal to the crown, but I also know their fall-back positions, their numbers, weapons capability, and the strategies of their top generals." Her grin grew so wide her teeth shone in the midday sun streaming through the windows.
Birk, however was not as triumphant. "And what do you ask in return for this knowledge?"
The woman's smile faded, but her eyes turned to Westin before her demands were uttered. "That when you are triumphant and rule this land, I shall be pardoned of my crimes throughout Friezenburg." Several of the men present growled. Sofia gripped the clothes in her hands tighter, then remembered Cedric had her wand. She had brought Amalthea here, and would need to help her escape if this went south, for Westin's sake as much as her own conscious. For his part, Birk let out one, long sigh of serious thought, ruminating on the political fallout that pardoning her would entail and weighing her potential contributions in one fell stroke. Unsolicited, and before Birk could respond, she tacked on additional demands. "Oh, and I want my son barred from combat, so that we can survive this horror and live together, as was meant to be."
Birk coughed, Sofia gasped, as looks of desperation passed around the room. Lucinda could take no more, "There's no way you're agreeing to this, we can't trust this woman let alone grant her amnesty and Westin's fut—"
"Enough Luci, this is Birk's decision, not yours. You don't exactly make the best decisions after all!" Axel had practically shouted it, but seemed to regret it instantly, covering his mouth. The damage was done, though, and Lucinda turned to walk toward the back of the room, behind Sofia. Sympathy washed over her, and Sofia went to comfort her friend. Once Lucinda realized this, she shook off the effort, simply staring at the wall as if disinterested, not wounded. It was to maintain some sort of dignity, Sofia assumed, and so she shied away to leave Lucinda with her thoughts.
Birk simply shook his head disapprovingly as Amalthea reigned over them, practically laughing. "You need a more professional organization to win this, Birk. Having kids fight your battles is no way to win a war."
"Then, you mean to assist us, to fight along our side and free us from this tyranny?" Birk's words were loud, commanding, and reminded Sofia of Rolland, in a way. He spoke with dedication and clarity, in an almost regal tone. It was a side of him she barely knew, but wondered if this was why the resistance had coalesced around him.
"I fought in the last war." Amalthea replied coldly. "If you remember, it didn't end well."
"Indeed." Birk sidestepped around the table, drawing nearer to Amalthea's position. "But will you help reclaim the sovereignty of our people, or will you turn against us?"
Amalthea looked over to her son, then down to the floor. "As long as my baby doesn't get hurt, I'll do whatever you need of me. I can plan, I can fight, but I want him safe and I want assurances that it won't be my head on the executioners block once you are all rid of Maldonia."
Birk sunk his head lower, then walked to the back of the room where Westin stood. They were locked in deep conversation, and finally Birk smiled at his nephew, gripping him by the shoulders as Sofia had seen many male comrades here do, both affirmed by the decision reached.
Sofia's Papa strode forward to the table once more. "Amalthea, when we win this war, you shall be granted amnesty within our borders, but with regards to my Nephew, what you ask I cannot grant. Westin's future is not mine to command, but, I can give him the opportunity to determine his own destiny." He turned away from the clearly unhappy Amalthea to face Westin at the back of the room. "What say you, Wes? Do you wish to fight alongside the Sons of Friezenburg, or remain here to learn the magical arts, and heal our wounded?"
This was a terrible decision to make, he had such a strong predilection for magic, but then, Sofia had seen first-hand the regret in his eyes at leaving behind his father to fight, and to die.
The decision was not long coming, "I choose to fight alongside you Uncle, and, maybe learn some spells along the way, if I can."
"Good man." Turning back to Amalthea, she was writhing on her side of the table. "Knowing this, do you agree to help us?"
Fingers balled into fists, Amalthea grit her teeth.
"Fine."
The tension immediately diffused. They cleared the table, as Birk began to draw with thick black strokes a map of Friezenburg upon it, all assembled gathered round to witness the revelations Amalthea would bestow. Westin circled round, setting a soft hand on his mother's shoulder, to comfort the woman. He looked up to smile at Sofia, and settled his gaze on the clothes still in Sofia's hands. With all this turmoil she'd forgotten to give Cedric back his clothes, and ducked behind some men looking onward as Amalthea began rattling off troop positions.
She went for the door handle, rearranging garments in her arm to manage it when,
click.
Westin stepped forward, unlatching the door for her. "Thanks Wes, but don't go in there, okay?"
"Sofia please, I need to talk to him." A rather ill timed groan escaped her, and two of the nearest men to Cedric's door turned briefly. Westin leaned in, whispering forcefully. "Please cousin, I have to make amends for being so forward and offending him, or he'll never forgive me."
Sofia whispered in kind. "Wes, we need to talk about this, but not here, not with all these people around. It's too personal." She could see him begin to hyperventilate.
"Oh no, he said something to you, didn't he?"
"Wes, calm down. It's not what you're thinking."
"Yes it is, it is, and, I have to apologize. It can't be too late, it just can't!"
"Wes, no!"
Frantically the young man stepped through the door, Sofia hot on his tail. Cedric was staring at the ceiling, the vast majority of him exposed and quite disgruntled by Sofia's delay. Her wand was squarely in his hand.
"You are simply incapable of haste, is that it Sofia? Might I remind you I've been lying here, quite naked, for half an hour at least? What if that obnoxiously overfamiliar cousin of yours… walked through the…. AAAAAHHHH!"
A brilliant flash of light heading directly toward Sofia and her cousin was the last thing she saw.
BOOM.