Absolute fluff. Couldn't drudge up the energy for a plot. Thank you to those who still follow and review. There were a few that gave me the kick in the pants to churn out the next chapter.

As predicted, it was not a happy morning for either of them when a light knock sounded at the door. Zachary opened one eye and groaned, holding Karigan against his body even tighter as he sought to bury his face in the pillow. A drawl cut into the sleepy warmth of their bed, 'We must be up and out the door within the hour.'

Karigan jolted awake from the voice and groaned from the jarring sensation of being awoken from a deep sleep. Zachary murmured in sympathy, pressing a kiss to her brow and burrowing them further under the covers. It was silent for a moment before they heard the individual try another tack, 'Either you get up and get dressed, or Brienne and I will come in to assist you.'

Karigan raised her head and whispered, 'They wouldn't dare.'

'Oh but we certainly would,' came the sardonic reply.

Both of the rumpled heads scowled at the door, but untangled themselves from the mass of blankets to begin dressing for the day ahead. 'We're up,' Zachary called begrudgingly as he reached for his trousers. Karigan wearily raised a hand up to the brown locks that were thoroughly mused from a night that was not spent in deep slumber. She grimaced and reached for the brush on her vanity, forgetting that she did so in nothing but her skin.

Zachary fought to keep a grin from spreading across his features, tugging on his shirt and averting his eyes as she tossed a section of smooth hair over her bared shoulder. 'It would be best if you dressed quickly, my love, lest you want to be back in that bed.'

The brush stopped its brisk movements and she turned to him with a puzzled expression, 'Eh?'

His eyes roved over her skin, glowing from the faint light emitted by the dying embers, and tilted his head sideways as they traveled back up to her blushing face. She quickly located her robe and tied the sash tightly, all the while with a small smile on her face. 'Probably the last time we'll sleep in a bed for awhile,' she commented lightly. He inclined his head in wry agreement as he reached for her stack of folded clothing, shaking out the smaller articles and handing each to her with a mischievous grin. 'And likely the last time we'll have a warm space to properly undress.'

Karigan allowed the robe to drop from her shoulders and tugged on her undergarments, 'So you are getting your eyeful now?'

Zachary nodded mournfully, handing her the trousers and linen shirt that she donned quickly. 'Fastion and Brienne have this interesting habit of making me feel like a disobedient teenager, even for just trying to steal a kiss or an embrace.'

Karigan wrinkled her nose, 'Not a good idea in open view of others.'

He frowned rather petulantly in response, but did not disagree with the statement. Their future shows of affection would be muted in stark contrast to the small reprieve they found in her childhood home. He quietly resolved that once this ordeal was behind them, and it most certainly would be, they would not leave their apartments in the castle for at least a week.

Karigan pulled her woolen vest over her thick shirt and fastened each button carefully, 'Roads might be better with less snow.'

'But with more mud.'

She grimaced and shrugged, 'At least we'll be warmer than we were before.'

He held her greatcoat out for her with a smile, drawing her neat braid out from under her collar as she shrugged the voluminous garment on. She leaned back against his frame and looked about her room wistfully, 'When will we be able to do this again?'

'Well it might be a bit awkward with Fastion and Brienne just a hairsbreadth away, but I am sure I could manage something tonig— Oomph!'

Karigan shoved him playfully and shook her head in exasperation, 'Not that, you oaf. When will it just be us and perhaps a few Weapons? When will we have this privacy again?'

Zachary rubbed at his midsection with a slight pout but turned to regard her solemnly, 'We've yet to visit Hillander as a married couple, and I intend to take you there for the honeymoon you never received.'

She waved her hand dismissively and moved to stuff a few more personal articles into her saddlebags before fastening them shut, 'You know I don't expect a trip. I just want to be alone with you.'

His eyes twinkled, 'Too bad. I've decided we need a bit of reclusion from public life after this whole mess. I have had the trip planned for a while.'

Karigan's eyebrows shot up, 'Rather confident about our outcome, my liege?'

Zachary slung his bags over his shoulder and gave her a wink, 'Nay, my lady, merely hopeful.' He held out his hand with a flourish, watching her stride by with a grin, and giving a swat at her backside. She let loose a small yelp and turned to face him indignantly, but he was already reaching out to grasp her chin and plant a firm kiss on her mouth. Flustered, she spun on her heel and continued towards the stairs.

He chuckled and closed the door behind him, shuffling the bags and moving his line of sight up to meet the gazes of their Weapons. Zachary shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, enduring the knowing expressions of the two, and feeling a slight blush tinge the tips of his ears. Fastion reached out and tugged the strap of the saddlebags from his liege's grasp, throwing them over his own shoulder, 'Are we finally ready to start our day?'

Zachary's brow furrowed at Fastion's teasing tone but he inclined his head, 'I am sure Kari will wish to say goodbye to her aunts.'

Brienne smiled benignly but her eyes danced with mirth, 'But of course.'

Zachary arched a brow, turning slowly to head towards the flight of stairs, all too aware of the stifled laughter behind him as they made their way to the warm kitchen.

Laren's quill scratched against the heavy vellum, the only sound in her quiet office that afternoon. As of late, her time had been spent helping the new Riders adjust in their surroundings and become accustomed to their assigned duties, but today she had found some time to herself. Most of those young Riders were either in lessons or partnered with a veteran Rider, thus she was able to catch up on correspondence and review the latest candidates to be made into full Riders.

An hour prior, she had closed her door to where it was only open a small fraction to ensue some privacy. The hinges of the door creaked audibly, causing her to pause in her racing thoughts and place her pen down tentatively as she looked up.

No one was there.

With a frown, she pushed her chair back and stood up to peer through the open space. Still, there was no sign of any person being in the vicinity of her office. Walking over to the frame, she slowly closed the heavy oak door with a shrug, and turned to return to her desk.

The small ball of white fur that her monarchs called their companion, now resided in her chair, and regarded her with a calculating expression in her small black eyes. Laren bristled and made shooing motions, 'Get down, you little rat!'

The terrier's little tail quivered as her rump wiggled excitedly at being acknowledged. Laren groaned and walked over to her chair and pointed down at the floor menacingly, 'Down,' she said sternly. Flake's ears laid back a fraction as she slunk against the polished wood and hopped down to the floor. With a mournful expression, she trudged under the desk and stared up at Laren sadly. The captain sat down in satisfaction and picked up her quill once more, but felt a small weight settle upon her boots.

She peered under the desk to see Flake's head lying upon the top of her feet and could only offer a sigh in exasperation. 'You aren't going to give up, are you?'

Flake raised her head and cocked it to the side in response.

Laren tossed her quill down, and regarded Flake for a moment, before patting her knees in invitation. Flake shot up and happily placed her front paws against Laren's trousers, bouncing with obvious anticipation. Laren reached down and lifted the wiggling terrier into her lap, allowing Flake to settle comfortably before resuming her business with her letters, choosing not to concede to the fact that the burrowing little warmth was a welcome distraction.