20th January 1996 (63:9:10)
— Contact plus 00.04.17:14.00
Beth woke up with a terrible headache.
Her head was pounding, thick and hard, and her mouth was all sticky and dry and gross, her throat aching — and also she was far too warm, sweating. Blinking her eyes open, wincing against the filtered light... Had she closed the tent flaps? Why the hell would she do that? It was fucking January, and it seemed like it was only getting hotter, thanks to them being well more inland now, the mountains blocking off the moderating influence of the sea. The temperature peaking over 30 most days, it was fucking miserable. It wasn't so bad during the night, sure, almost getting down to reasonable British temperatures, but she must have slept long enough for it to start warming up again. At least it wasn't constantly fucking raining anymore, but still, ugh...
Also, she terribly needed to pee.
Yep, hung over, this was a hangover. Beth had only had one once before, after winning the school quidditch tournament back in third year — Katie had convinced Beth to try some gin, and she'd quickly proceeded to have far too much. (In her defence, she hadn't realised how strongly alcoholic it was, she'd thought it was just like mead or wine or something?) She didn't remember the latter end of the night at all, honestly, Hermione had ended up bringing her up to bed, completely blacked out. She'd been terribly nauseous and miserable the next morning, and, she hadn't tried to move yet, but she didn't think she'd fucked herself that badly this time...
There was sometimes alcohol being passed around in the camp, but Beth had never touched any of it, not wanting to be incapacitated if a surprise attack came. There'd been multiple attempted infiltrations since the aliens had bombed them at breakfast a couple months ago now, some of them even getting far enough to kill people, so she called that a very good decision. But they had, finally, after months of fighting, managed to finish off the northern part of the alien invasion — cutting off all the little tendrils spread out into the mountains, pinning the greater part of the landing against the river, and obliterated them all. It'd been a hell of a bloody slog, not at all helped by the aliens having reprogrammed thousands and thousands of locals, but the worst of the alien emplacements had been softened up with missile strikes by the Soviets, the mages popping in as soon as the blasts cleared to follow up with fiendfyre and the like and popping away again while the flames were still burning...
Beth's arm still ached from all the magic she'd been channelling over the last week or so. Fiendfyre was shockingly easy to cast, but stopping it before it could wash over their people was much harder. Though, once they'd started closing in on the last alien outpost in the north they hadn't let up, and it'd expanded enough the place was huge — cast enough powerful curses for long enough, a week straight with few breaks, and yeah, it wasn't any surprise that her wand arm still hurt. At this point she was probably going to end up with long-term nerve damage...though there were potions for that...
After the long bloody fight, and they'd won, there'd been a big fucking party, because of course there had been. Not right away, there was cleanup to do, injured to evacuate, but once they were certain the aliens had been cleared out, the word had come down from the officers that they were getting a break — they'd be moved south soon to help the group closing in on the other major landing site remaining, somewhere in the Mekong Delta near the southern tip of the peninsula, but until then they could take a break, rest for a while. Around the same time the news had been spreading that the African landing had just been finished off, the international force there proceeding with cleanup as they prepared to relocate to India, further driving in the idea that the aliens could be beaten. They might not be able to reach the ones up in space, but on the ground they were winning.
Of course, the enormous army camp, spread out over what had to be a few square kilometres, instead of relaxing had instantly burst into celebration. Really shouldn't be a surprise to anyone, Beth thought — turned out fighting against a literal alien invasion was seriously fucking stressful. She was hardly the only person who'd needed a break.
As she woke up further, bits and pieces of the events of the previous night gradually trickling in — she didn't think she'd blacked out at all, like last time, but her memory still felt fuzzy — — starting to notice more about what she was feeling than just how fucking miserable she was, it clicked that she wasn't uncomfortably warm just because the tent flaps were closed. It also explained why drunk, past-Beth had decided to close them in the first place.
She wasn't alone in here.
Distantly, still half awake, she felt the soft pressure of another body to her back, what had to be an arm limply hanging around her waist, a soft, slow in and out of breath against the nape of her neck.
Beth glanced down — she belatedly noted she was naked, her still-too-pale skin practically glowing in the warm morning light seeping through the fabric of the tent. The arm, the hand resting against the foam of the bedroll near her waist, was significantly darker than Beth, the kind of funny olive-ish not-quite-brown of a lot of the locals.
...Oh.
Slowly, Beth was remembering this now. She'd already been rather tipsy after accepting some vódka from Taisa and her friends — had a funny taste to it, not nearly as good as that gin Katie gave her, the Russians kept laughing at the face she made — had wandered into a more local-coloured area of the party, someone had gotten music going somehow — functional electronics were an increasing rarity as the weeks dragged on, running out of fresh batteries to power them — and someone had been frying up some food, it smelled amazing, and she'd suddenly been terribly hungry. Hanging out for a while, accepting some more liquor, getting quite drunk, and she'd ended up dancing somehow — she'd obviously been very drunk, because Beth did not dance (especially since she didn't know local dances at all) — and she'd ended up getting very, um, friendly with a woman, apparently too drunk to care that they were in public, not to mention that she'd hardly even kissed a girl before, and...
She had sex.
Beth had sex last night. She was remembering this, now, the dim, blurry memories flicking in her head making her breath catch and, just, get even more uncomfortably warm. She'd kind of been fumbling, and— Hadn't known what the fuck she was doing, obviously, but the woman hadn't seemed to be too frustrated with Beth not knowing what the fuck she was doing (or maybe she'd also just been too drunk to care), there'd been a lot of giggling, and—
(Remembering the woman touching her, Beth's hand fisted in sweaty hair, could barely breathe, shivering as it hit her, was making Beth squirm. Just, fucking hell, that happened...)
It occurred to Beth that she didn't even remember her name. She must have been told it at some point, but she'd been drunk, and she didn't remember. Beth had just had sex, for the first time, with a perfect bloody stranger, and she only kind of half-way remembered it, because she'd been drunk halfway out of her mind.
...
Oops?
Beth's squirming must have been enough to wake the woman up — she froze, going almost painfully rigid, the arm around her tightened a little, shifting against her back... Beth thought she was stretching, a breathless little groan leaking from her throat, before she relaxed again, settling against Beth. Her breath brushing along the back of her neck, the woman muttered...something. Maybe not awake enough to think in other languages yet, and also Beth was kind of freaking out a little bit at the moment, she didn't pick up on it.
"Um." She scrambled for a second, trying to— Tiếng Việt, she looked like a local, Vietnamese was probably her best bet. It took another couple seconds to get herself to think straight, and even then all she managed was, "Sorry, what?"
Beth felt the woman stiffen against her. After a moment she moved, the light pressure against her back lifting away — Beth's sweaty skin being exposed to the air felt really good, actually, but. She tipped her shoulder back a little, glanced behind her, to find the woman was sitting up, leaning on a hand, looking down at Beth. She was definitely a local, her skin tone a little more noticeable reddish than was super common — more typical of the people in the mountains inland, Beth thought — her eyes that brown that was so dark it was almost black, narrow, almost dainty lips and big round cheeks. Her hair was cropped short, and an unbelievable mess...which Beth was pretty sure was her fault, when she thought about it...
(She tried not to remember how she'd messed up her hair, didn't want to get too distracted.)
"I'm sorry, I...thought you were someone else." From her instincts picked up from Vietnamese people through cheating omniglot powers, Beth recognised the accent as Thái, a minority group up north near the border with China — Beth barely knew any Thái, so, that might be why she hadn't understood that first bit, actually. The words seemed a little hard to get out, but not because of the language — even with the Thái accent, she could tell that was perfectly normal northern Vietnamese, like from around Hà Nội — the woman was obviously struggling with something. Over the next seconds, her mouth worked silently, her eyes drifted away, staring blankly at the fabric of the tent, seeming to slip away into her thoughts for a bit.
...Beth got the very clear feeling she'd lost someone, recently.
She visibly tried to shake it off, turning back to Beth with a somewhat crooked smile. "Good morning, then."
For a second, Beth just blinked dumbly up at her. "Um. Hi."
Her eyes narrowed just slightly, her smile dimming. For a second, her gaze dipped down, drifting over Beth. She was struck with the urge to cover herself, since she was just lying here completely naked, but that was ridiculous — besides, there wasn't even anything to cover herself with. But her eyes quickly jumped back up to Beth's, forcing another smile that suddenly looked very fake. "For my part, I have a terrible hangover, and I need breakfast." She didn't explicitly ask if Beth wanted to come along, but the implication was obvious.
"...That would be nice." At least, Beth didn't feel particularly nauseous this time, she could probably get food down...last time she remembered she hadn't really felt like eating until the next evening, but...
"Good, good. Ah..." The woman sat up the rest of the way, glanced around the tent. "This is mine, and..."
Oh, right, clothes, that was...probably a good idea. Feeling, just, incredibly awkward, Beth pushed herself upright — gritting her teeth against her head pounding in protest, but at least she didn't feel sick, so, food would probably be fine. She kept her legs straight, self-consciously crossed at the ankle. The inside of her tent was a little bit of a mess, they'd clearly just tossed stuff wherever. Beth spotted her wand holster nearby, immediately grabbed that and started strapping it into place. (Despite the fact that it didn't actually cover anything, she felt significantly less naked with her wand to hand.) "Um. Don't take this the wrong way, but, er. What's your name?"
For whatever reason, the woman laughed out loud, shaking her head to herself. "Đường Sóc Ianin."
"Ianin, right." That didn't really sound like a Vietnamese name, but she didn't think it was Thái either — they were mostly Buddhists around there, she thought, it must be Sanskrit.
"And you are Beth?"
"Yeah." It came out sounding sort of like Bẹt, but she could tell what she meant — locals tended to have trouble with that sound, Bẹt was really close enough. "Hello."
"Hello, Beth."
Trying not to feel unbearably awkward, Beth helped find and split up their clothes. Apparently Ianin had been in a Vietnamese military uniform last night — not the in active combat version, but the hanging around the camp or whatever version. Nothing fancy, just trousers and (short-sleeved) jacket made out of a sturdy but relatively breathable cloth — they were in the bloody tropics, after all — a pleasant forest green with red and yellow bits here and there. Passing over her jacket, Beth noted the badge with a single pip and two bars — um, she thought that was for...trung sĩ? which was some kind of NCO, maybe a sergeant? She didn't know, these things didn't always translate...
(Not surprised Ianin outranked her, since it was almost impossible not to, and she was definitely older than her, but it was impossible to tell by how much. Beth was guessing Ianin was maybe twenty-five to thirty? Who knows.)
Of course, Beth also had to struggle not to stare, because one of the things they had the most trouble finding were Ianin's pants. She realised it was kind of silly to be all shy and self-conscious and weird about this, they'd literally slept together, but she couldn't help it, she felt so fucking awkward. They clawed through Beth's tent looking for the things, Ianin had pulled on a vest by this point but nothing else, it was really really hard not to look. Beth was trying not to be weird about this, especially with how super casual and unconcerned Ianin was acting, but it was, just— This was a new one on her, okay, she kept remembering last night, she couldn't help looking, she could practically feel her face glowing...
They finally did find Ianin's pants, tucked under a corner of Beth's sleeping pad thing — how the fuck had that happened? Whatever. Ianin gave her a funny look when Beth chopped off most of her hair and vanished it — it's too bloody hot here for long hair, but this shite grew back in her sleep every time, it's very weird, magic is just like that sometimes. So, right, that was everything taken care of. Beth took a final girding breath before pulling open the tent.
And immediately cringing against the sunlight stabbing into her head, because of course. Fucking tropical sun, honestly, it was January...
The war in Indochina had had Beth's troop and the detachment they spent most of their time with crawling up the river they'd started at (a tributary of the Mekong up in the mountains), occasionally jumping over to a neighbouring valley to help another group with another pack of aliens. Their progress had felt painfully slow, carefully picking through every kilometre of mountainside searching for alien positions, carefully staking them out before bringing down overwhelming force, helping clean up the remnants — gathering and magically isolating samples to send off to the labcoats while they were at it — for a couple days before moving on to start the process all over again. At a certain point, Beth had completely lost track of the passage of time, just, sinking into the routine, scouting runs and skirmishes sliding by one after the next, weeks bleeding into months. Between all the magic she was doing and kilometres of hiking in the bloody mountains, not to mention the fighting itself, there were many days that when she was let off she had little energy to do anything but steal some food quick and pass right the fuck out.
Honestly, she'd completely failed to notice how much time was passing until they'd been told one day that they'd have a few days off for Christmas — which was on January 7th. Apparently the Orthodox Christians among the Soviets and the Arabs celebrated Christmas at the beginning of January instead of the end of December, she'd had no idea. She'd completely missed western Christmas happening...though when she thought about it the holiday had been mentioned in some of her letters with people. She just hadn't given it much thought, because she'd known there was no way she'd be back home by then. Apparently there was some special shite the Army normally did for Christmas, involving decent food and the like, and they had actually managed to get stuff to Beth's troop all the way out here on their own, but they'd delayed it a little to match the timing with the eastern Christmas at their camp, which, that was fine, Beth just hadn't even noticed that they'd missed Christmas — that announcement had been on the 29th, when they'd been told they wouldn't be able to delay their advance closing in on the main alien settlement past the New Year, but they would find a spot they could take a break for Christmas, in exchange for making sure the locals would get a break for Tết in February...
It was hard to believe that the aliens had first attacked four and a half months ago. She couldn't say whether it felt like it'd been more or less time than that (or both, somehow), but four and a half months just felt wrong for some reason.
They'd managed to push the aliens out of the mountains and down into the Mekong valley, which was really wide and flat and open in this part of Laos, the river broad and slow-moving and dotted with islands and muddy with sediment. The aliens had taken as their central base of operations in the north a place the locals called the Four Thousand Islands — right on the border with Cambodia, the river slowing along a curve before approaching an unnavigable series of rapids and waterfalls, forming a complex web of islands and sand bars. She thought it might have been really pretty here before the aliens took over. She was told it was a very rural area (like most of Laos, honestly), farming communities spread on both shores of the river and through the islands, at times trees and even entire villages seeming to float out on the water, rooted on islands hidden by the seasonal flooding, isolated and calm and quiet.
Of course, the place was a fucking wreck now. The shallow silty shores of the area suited the alien farming techniques Beth had first seen in Africa very well. When she'd first caught sight of the region — David handing over his binoculars to give her a look from a fair distance away — several kilometres of the river had been converted into a massive alien plantation, the river and its many islands sectioned off into blocks of different crops, some flooded and some fully on land, rows and rows and rows of unfamiliar, alien plants. Every half-kilometre or so there'd be a worker village, clumps of their little shell huts, housing thousands of their own workers and uncountable captured and altered locals, at the centre a complex of their funny star-shaped living buildings, crawling with soldiers and the funny tentacle-headed crab-handed people they thought were scientists or engineers or something? The place was huge, practically a respectable town in its own right, and they'd already completely altered the landscape, twisting it to suit their purposes.
And it was all gone now, that entire length of the river nothing but a blasted scorched scar on the land. They were camped somewhat upriver, but they were still within sight of the devastation to the south, countless thin trails of smoke still curling up toward the sky.
While helping with the cleanup, Beth had noticed the river downstream had visibly darkened, thick with ash and blood black and red and green, staining the rocks in the rapids in streaks and splatters.
The camp was huge, the largest numbers she'd seen gathered since leaving Africa, but it was rather quieter and calmer than it'd been before the battle — after all, Beth would guess she wasn't the only person around with a murderous hangover. Beth's troop were set up near the commanders and shite — so she'd be close at hand, since she often pulled double-duty as a translator — rather more dense with the pop-up structures the local mages carted around. So they were actually quite close by to the nearest kitchen area, mostly organised around open fires, kept burning by some kind of enchantment (they burned a funny blue, and she never saw them add wood or anything), seating shielded under a solid wooden roof held up on narrow posts, the underside sketched with what Beth assumed were runes? It was in Chinese, painted on in bright clashing primary colours, completely illegible to her but she thought it must be some kind of Eastern enchanting.
There were people doing the cooking, looking rather the worse for wear from the partying the previous night. Judging by the big pots they had on, the scents on the steam seeping into the camp, Beth thought they had some kind of noodle soup thing going. She'd gotten mostly used to having non-breakfast foods for breakfast by this point, and actually that might not be a bad idea anyway — hadn't she heard something somewhere about salty food being good for hangovers...?
In line for food, she noticed Luke and Bill and David at a nearby table — David kept eyeing her, kind of a funny look. Probably because of Ianin, though it was hard to tell if it was over the gay thing or concern, since she was only fifteen and all...
(Honestly, she was a little surprised one of them hadn't tried to butt in at some point — David and Leo in particular had apparently decided they were her big brothers now or something, which was vaguely irritating but not really worth making a big deal over — but it was a big camp, it was very possible they hadn't noticed.)
Standing waiting for food, Beth continued to feel, just, painfully uncomfortable. She didn't know what she was doing? Like, she had absolutely no idea what she was supposed to be doing or saying now, and Ianin wasn't really helping — the light was obviously bothering her, she'd gone really stiff and quiet ever since they'd left the tent, ducking her head against the sun. She'd never been in this particular situation before, or really even encountered anything similar...other than Sirius talking about his dating life, she guessed, but he normally avoided bringing anyone home during the summers. She had absolutely no idea what she should be doing right now, so she kind of...stood silently, a couple steps behind Ianin, feeling painfully uncomfortable.
And also trying not to stare, because she'd actually had sex last night, with this woman right here, and that was, just, so incredibly surreal, she had no idea how the fuck to process that. But, she was very much aware that they were in public right now, and openly staring might be kind of obvious?
Not that she really cared if people knew she was a lesbian — she'd been mostly sure before last night, but now she was very very certain, fucking hell. Anyway, she had cared before, which she realised was probably programming from her fucked-up childhood still lingering, the old fear that she would be punished for showing any abnormality, but well. They kind of had more important things to worry about now, you know. She'd even casually mentioned it in jokes and stuff over the last couple months, because whatever...and also it kind of made some of the boys less weird around her when it came to certain things, wasn't sure why, just one of those things, she guessed. Nobody had really acted that surprised, but Beth guessed she was kind of obvious — especially since she'd started chopping off her hair every morning, even looking more stereotypically gay now — so whatever.
She still hadn't told Hermione, or anyone at home, but she thought that was a conversation that was better done in person. And also she wanted to be able to see their reactions, so she could change her mind and play it off as a joke if Hermione took it badly. Not that she thought Hermione would, but, you know.
So, she didn't care if staring at Ianin and generally acting weird made it obvious, but she had no idea what Ianin's situation was. You know, if she was out or whatever — that was what that meant, right? Whatever. Not to mention she didn't know how people felt about gay people here, so, there was also that. Didn't want to make things difficult for her, you know.
...Also, now that Beth thought about it, she had no idea what the age of consent was here. That was awkward.
After a few intensely uncomfortable minutes standing around, they were able to get a bowl of soup and a cup of tea. It looked like they'd chopped up some of the dried, absurdly-long-shelf-life meat the Soviets got sent from home — fresh stuff had gradually trickled off as the months went on, resource problems at home worsening in advance of the serious famines Hermione said were going to start setting in in the spring and summer — for the protein in place of...she didn't know, chicken or whatever, which she guessed was fine. The soup seemed a little less substantial than she remembered from the early months, the thin vegetables unrecognisable blobs, but they'd still managed a sizeable bunch of fresh green herbs to top it with — Beth guessed some herbs could be pretty stubborn about growing anywhere they felt like it, must not be a problem to get those.
And of course she could feel the black pepper lifting off of the stuff, itching at her lungs and her nose, but that wasn't really a surprise at this point.
Ianin glanced back to make sure Beth was following before picking a spot at the end of a table — under the canopy, shaded from the sun, because of course. Immediately, Ianin pulled a pair of chopsticks out from somewhere — the reusable ones most of the Vietnamese military types she'd seen seemed to just always have on them, vaguely metallic-looking — and Beth belatedly realised she didn't have any eating utensils. Her food things were in a pouch back in her tent, they weren't doing anything today so she hadn't bothered packing up everything, it'd completely slipped her mind...
Ianin had just picked up her bowl when she noticed Beth's problem. A smile flicking at her lips, she set her things down again and stood up. "I'll be back in a second." She walked off, toward the kitchen area, talked with the people there. It didn't take long, she came back a minute later — before sitting down, she held a pair of wooden, disposable chopsticks out to Beth.
"Oh, um, thanks." She had picked up how to use the bloody things at some point, it was hard to say when and from who — being an omniglot could be weird sometimes, it was better to just not think about it too hard.
And then, without a word, they started eating. It certainly felt uncomfortable to Beth, she had no idea what she was doing, but it didn't seem to be bothering Ianin...
After a couple minutes — Beth had managed a couple bites, her awkwardness making her fumble a little — when Ianin spoke. "I don't know how... Can you do something so we won't be heard?" she asked, indicating their surroundings with a circular swirl of a finger.
"Sure." Drawing her wand with a flick of her wrist, Beth cast a quick privacy charm. "They can still see us, but the words will just sound like meaningless mumbling."
Ianin let out a little hum, looking around at the dome of the spell, visible as a faint heat shimmer on the air around them, with a bright smile on her face. "To be honest, I'm still not accustomed to magic, yet. It's all still so fascinating to me."
"It still is to me too, sometimes. I didn't know about magic and everything myself until I was eleven."
Her smile dimming somewhat, Ianin just let out a little "ah" sort of noise, turning back to her breakfast. She was obviously working up to saying something, hadn't even quite gathered up a pinch of noodles before she let out a little sigh, set her bowl down again. "I have to ask, it's going to bother me until I do. I, mm." Ianin glanced away for a second, before turning back to Beth with a sheepish, uncomfortable sort of smile. "In the sober light of the morning, you seem...younger, than I thought."
Beth grimaced — oh sure, start off with a topic she just knew was going to make Ianin nearly as uncomfortable as Beth was already, why not. She kind of didn't want to answer, it's not like it even fucking mattered at this point, but fine. "I'm fifteen."
With a sharp little breath through her teeth, Ianin winced. After a second she set her bowl down, chopsticks carefully balanced across the top, and leaned back from the table, taking a long breath. Her hands came up to her forehead, and...
...Beth didn't know, just seemed like a complete overreaction to her. She was trying not to take it the wrong way, honestly...not that she knew what the right way would be, exactly. "Yeah, that'd be why I didn't want to say anything."
"I'm sorry, Beth, I don't mean to..." Ianin trailed off, clearly not sure how to finish that sentence. "I am...simply coming to terms with the reality that I committed a sexual crime."
"Oh come on," Beth groaned (in Cambrian, for some reason), rolling her eyes. "There's no reason to— Honestly, it's fine."
Shooting her a look across the table Beth didn't know how to read, Ianin said, "Maybe it does not seem so to you, but, well. There are laws about this sort of thing for a reason — the line in Vietnam is sixteen, so I have, in fact, committed a crime."
"We're not in Vietnam. What's the age of consent in Laos?"
Ianin blinked at her for a second. "Honestly I don't know. It might be fifteen. But I am Vietnamese, in any case, so I find I don't care so much."
...Fair enough, Beth guessed. "Well, if it makes you feel better, where I'm from it's actually thirteen — I'm considered a legal adult back home."
"No, that doesn't make me feel better. Thirteen," Ianin muttered, shaking her head to herself. "Where are you from? I thought you were Russian..."
"What? No, I'm English."
"...English." Beth wasn't sure how to read the flat tone, or the faint frown. As far as she knew, Britain had never literally invaded Vietnam, but she wouldn't be surprised if the English had a rather worse reputation around here than the Soviets did, just for historical reasons.
"Yeah, English. And, in magical law over there, people can legally represent themselves at thirteen — you know, sign contracts and stuff. It's really the only age of majority they have over there." There were things you could only do if you had your OWLs, like apparation and stuff, but that was out of concern for preserving Secrecy, it wasn't a legal majority thing. "That's the only reason I'm allowed to be here in the first place."
Ianin stared at her for a second, before blurting out, "But that's completely absurd! Children don't know enough to sign contracts at thirteen!"
...Beth might actually be a little offended by the tone, honestly (not to mention the use of children), but she tried not to be. At thirteen, she had been perfectly capable of making decisions for herself — in fact, she had made a serious decision for herself at thirteen, when she'd left the Dursleys to move in with Sirius without permission, and that had probably been the single best decision she'd ever made in her life. But she realised most thirteen-year-olds generally weren't, and that was what Ianin meant. "Yeah, well, that's magical Britain for you. But honestly, I've been here fighting with everyone else for months now, what does it matter at this point? And how old are you, anyway?"
Ianin seemed less than convinced by Beth's argument that her age shouldn't matter. Which was a little irritating, honestly — they were in the middle of a war with alien invaders, there were more important things to worry about. After a few seconds of flatly staring at her, Ianin said, "As of last month, I'm thirty-four."
...Oh.
Somehow, it hadn't occurred to Beth that Ianin might be literally twice her age. She hadn't changed her mind about it not really making any difference in their present situation, but she still spent a moment blinking back at Ianin like an idiot.
She finally managed, "I would have guessed younger than that." Or, if Ianin was magical that would make sense — after reaching about twenty or so, mages aged much slower than muggles — but she wasn't, so, she did not look that old...
Ianin let out a little breath, shaking her head, the corner of her mouth curling just slightly. "I knew you were younger than me, but I thought, maybe, twenty-five."
"I guess we both fucked up, then."
In the middle of a bite of noodles, Ianin let out a little surprised cough at the cursing. It took a moment for her to stop almost choking (oops), a reluctant sort of smile pulling at her cheeks. "Ah. Yes, I suppose so."
Beth didn't know what to say at that point, and apparently Ianin didn't either, another stiff, uncomfortable silence falling between them. At least, she thought it was uncomfortable — and it looked like it was bothering Ianin this time too, brow occasionally furrowing, or fingers tapping. Clearly thinking about something. She even seemed to almost start talking a couple times, before changing her mind and going for her tea instead. It wasn't like Beth knew what else the fuck she was supposed to be doing right now — Ianin freaking out about Beth's age hadn't made this any less awkward — so she, just, waited.
Finally, Ianin set down her bowl, chopsticks set across the top again. Her soup wasn't actually gone, yet, but Beth guessed she didn't want the distraction. Not looking up at Beth, she stared down at the table, a vague sort of frown on her face, her fingers fidgeting. "It is... Even if I were not uncomfortable with your age — which, to be clear, I am — I am not... Last night is not to happen again."
"Yeah, I figured." She hadn't really expected otherwise? They had both been drunk, and Ianin was clearly super not okay with Beth only being fifteen ("uncomfortable" was underselling it), so. "I don't regret it at all, but I'm sorry you do."
Ianin's eyes snapped up to Beth's, visibly widening in surprise. "Oh, no! I didn't mean to... It isn't that I, ah..."
It took a second for it to click that Ianin was worried she'd...Beth didn't know, hurt her feelings or something. "No, it's fine, 'regret' might not have been the right word. I just, you know, don't want to make things...difficult."
That didn't seem to reassure Ianin much, still giving Beth an uncertain sort of look, but she apparently decided to leave that be. "It is not that I... If I were not drunk last night, and stressed from the battle, I would not have. And I realise that that doesn't sound any better..."
For fuck's sake, apparently Beth wasn't the only person here who didn't know what the fuck she was doing. Right, well, she was just going to make this easier on her, then. "You lost someone. You're not over it."
Ianin blinked, surprised. "Yes. That first week, in the bombing of Hà Nội, I... My partner was killed." The term she used was gender-neutral, as happened sometimes in Vietnamese, but Beth was pretty sure she meant girlfriend.
"Yeah, I thought I might have... I had a feeling you thought I was someone else this morning."
"...I did, for a moment," Ianin admitted — her voice low, barely above a whisper. "I was not fully awake, it... It was unpleasant, to wake up. This is to say nothing about you, of course, it is only..."
"You don't have to explain." She wasn't ready to move on yet, Beth got it. Well, no, she didn't really get it, she didn't personally know what it felt like to deal with something like that, but she got the general idea, it was fine. "How long were you together for? I mean, you don't have to talk about it, just, curious."
"If she were still..." Gendered term that time, definitely a woman then. "It would be eight years in March."
"Jesus. That's awful, I'm sorry. I mean, I'm sure it sucks no matter how long you've been with someone, but..."
Tellingly, Ianin just let out a little hum — Beth guessed there really was nothing to say to that, she wouldn't know how to respond either. She never knew what the hell to do when people were being all sympathetic about her parents, and that was hardly even comparable... "Have you lost anyone?"
"A few friends, only a couple I was really that close with." It was going on two months later now, and it was still didn't feel quite real that Fred and George were gone — she suspected it wouldn't until she returned to Britain and they weren't there anymore — and nobody in her troop had actually died since their disastrous arrival in Vietnam...and she really hadn't known the ones who had died for that long, really. Honestly, she'd been kind of freaking out a little when Sam and Leo got pretty badly injured several days ago now, and that time Bill had almost died last month (made all the more terrifying by Bill normally being the one to stabilise them long enough to get to proper healers), but other than that, she'd known people who'd died, but mostly just acquaintances. "I hope you get something out of blowing the shite out of a bunch of aliens, I guess."
An empty smile flickered at Ianin's lips. "Mm. As my father used to say, we're unlikely to find any real justice in this world, and so we must make do with killing them, and killing them, and killing them, until they stop coming back." She paused for a second. "Of course, he was talking about the French, but..."
Beth snorted — oh sure, same thing, why not. Though, she was thinking that kind of as a joke, but to the locals, after a century of one foreign invasion after another after another, maybe it did just seem like one more to them. From a certain point of view, she guessed the only big difference was that the aliens were also other people's problem, so they were getting much more help dealing with it...so in a way it was actually less of a disaster than previous invasions, since at least they had thousands of Soviet and Arab soldiers fighting alongside them this time, much wealthier countries regularly shipping supplies in by portkey...
That did kind of make sense, when she thought about it, but fucking hell was that fucked up...
Ianin left not long after that — she wasn't even done with her noodles yet, Beth assumed she was looking for her people or whatever. Either that, or she was more intensely uncomfortable with the whole I just slept with a minor when I was too drunk to know better thing than she was letting on. She did ask if she was going to have to talk to someone, which was confusing for a moment, before Beth realised that she was, like, asking if Beth was going to be reporting her to their superiors for what happened last night — if only to keep them separated from now on, she thought, though Ianin would probably end up with some kind of black mark on her record, even if no actual criminal charges were made. Which was, just, completely fucking unnecessary, honestly, she was fine, don't worry about it. And she was technically an adult, due to funny legal horseshite, so she wasn't even sure what she'd be reporting Ianin for. (She couldn't be considered competent only sometimes, that just wouldn't make any sense — if she could consent to joining the bloody Army, she could consent to sex.) The reassurance didn't really do anything to clear the uneasy look from Ianin's face — that Beth was fine with what happened and didn't want anything to be done about it seemed to be making Ianin more uncomfortable, for some inexplicable reason — but at least she didn't make a point of arguing about it.
Ianin went with a comment about Beth taking care of herself, which, Beth kind of got the feeling that there was something else Ianin was not-saying. Like, obviously, they were in the middle of a bloody war, so, yeah, hoping each other don't get killed was perfectly reasonable, but it felt like Ianin also meant something else, and Beth wasn't sure what. Confused by that, Beth barely managed to get out a vague, yeah, you too, before Ianin was walking away.
It took a few seconds for Beth to realise she was watching Ianin walk, wrenched her eyes away — right, not being super obvious about it, don't make things in the camp weird...
She wasn't alone long enough to get too lost in her thoughts, which was probably a good thing. Because, you know, catching herself watching Ianin walk was making her think about Ianin's legs, which made her think about the feel of the curve of Ianin's hip against her, and then she was remembering the feel of her hand between Ianin's legs, and then she was remembering Ianin's head between her legs, and fucking hell, something else to draw her attention wasn't unwelcome, because getting distractingly horny in public always made her feel unbearably awkward.
(Made her remember back when she'd had a pretty serious crush on Hermione, and they'd be huddled up in the library, Hermione talking her through something while Beth desperately tried to act normal, pay attention to what she was saying and not how warm and soft she felt or how good she smelled. Yeah, unbearably awkward.)
Anyway, before she could get too carried away, David slid into the vacated seat across from her. "Hey. How's the hangover?"
"Mm." Beth was halfway through a sizable bite of noodles, it took her a moment to swallow. "Better. Still have a headache, but. I think the soup helps."
"The tea might too — the caffeine is good for some people, anyway, not everyone. Ever gone drinking before?"
She grimaced. "Once. Friend gave me gin, I had no idea how strong it was — blacked out and everything, I was completely miserable the next morning. This one isn't nearly as bad."
With a calm sort of nod, David took a slow sip of his tea. David was definitely the least boisterous out of their troop (even including Beth), a calm, almost solemn sort — which, he was a sniper by training, which Beth guessed made sense, patience and all that. Though he also carried some of their intel-gathering stuff, when they were scouting out places was often taking pictures of shite, at times Beth almost thought there might be an artistic angle to his skill with a camera, but they didn't really have film to waste on frivolous stuff, so. (He seemed like a good bloke, but Beth had carefully avoided asking if he'd ever done an assassination before. She suspected the answer would be yes.) "Mostly you just have to get plenty of water and wait for it to go away. Unless mages have some secret to curing hangovers you've been holding out on us."
"...Not as far as I know. There are pain potions for headaches, but I'm guessing we're using all of those for more serious stuff." They were much better than muggle drugs that did the same thing, after all, more thorough and targeted and with less serious side-effects. There were things muggle drugs were better for than the magical equivalent, Hermione had said, but from what she'd seen when it came to pain relief in particular they'd entirely switched to potions. "I remember something about hangover potions being a thing, but I think you're supposed to take them beforehand? Like a preventative thing."
"Well damn, that's bloody cheating."
Focussed on her soup, Beth felt her lips twitch into a smirk. "I can write Sirius about it — if the formula isn't too complicated I might be able to make them here."
"Do that and I'll tell Luke to put you up for a fucking medal."
Beth grimaced, tried to play the joke off with a shrug — she was all but certain she was going to end up with several of those. Luke had mentioned in passing at one point that she was definitely going to get some kind of recognition for covering that village their first night here, at the very least, and Hermione still suspected she was going to end up with a knighthood or some shite for covering the Queen's husband and the kids during the initial attack. (By the time the Queen had returned to Britain and the government had started getting their shite together well enough to even consider getting around to that sort of thing, Beth had already been out of the country.) And it wasn't until last month that Bill had pointed out that the Laotian and Cambodian governments would probably do something to acknowledge the foreign fighters who'd come to help, and Hermione had pointed out that some governments did shite for allies who'd gone out of their way to cover their people, which potentially brought in the Soviets and Syria and Lebanon and Iraq and Egypt too (not to mention the Congo), so she'd probably end up with tat from several different countries, which was just fucking ridiculous.
(Honestly, she was only fighting these bastards because somebody had to and it was the only thing she was good at, she didn't need to be rewarded or whatever the fuck. All that just sounded terribly embarrassing.)
"You all good?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" She was pretty sure he wasn't talking about the hangover, but.
David hesitated for a second, an uncomfortable wince crossing his face before disappearing again. "Ah, Leo and I thought we should maybe do something last night, but, Sam and Bill both insisted to leave you to it, so. With that woman, I mean," he added, when Beth didn't get it right away.
"Oh! Right, I— I wasn't even sure you boys knew about that. It's a big camp, you know."
His lips twitched. "We saw you come back through our part of the camp. And, ah, tents aren't exactly sound-proof, you know."
Beth gaped at him for a moment, her face— She didn't— "Fuck, did I forget privacy spells?" She did use them, sometimes, when she was by herself — not that she needed them very often, she didn't get a lot of alone time, and she was usually too damn tired to properly get off by the time she got to bed — but if she'd been drunk and distracted it might not have...
"Yeah, you forgot the privacy spells. Bill got it for you, once he noticed." David sounded far too amused about it, not quite fully hiding the curl to his lips behind his tea cup.
Forcing a glare, trying to ignore the heat on her cheeks, she spat, "Oh, piss off. I was drunk and, um, clearly not thinking straight..."
"Hey, no judgement here, I know what it's like to get so wrapped up in a bird you bloody well forget where you are."
That wasn't making her face feel less on fire. "Shut up, David."
"Fine, fine. You are good, though? I was worried it might not— Well, you know."
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm fine, for fuck's sake. Not that it's any of your sodding business, any of you, but I'm not freaking out or anything, she was perfectly nice, it's fine. Mostly I just wish I remembered it better, honestly — I didn't black out at all, but most of last night is still kind of fuzzy..."
Thankfully, unlike Ianin, David just gave her a slow nod, seemingly accepting that. In fact, crooked smirk curling his lips, he drawled, "Perfectly nice, huh?"
And her blush had just started going down again, damn it. "Shut up."
"Got a thing for older women, eh?" Ianin was probably only older than David by a few years, she thought, but she guessed these things were relative.
"Fuck if I know. Definitely got a thing for women, full stop, no doubt about that now, fucking hell..."
David's eyebrows arched up a little bit. "First time?"
"Mhmm. Like I said, wish I remembered it better."
"...Damn." He glanced over his shoulder, the direction Ianin had gone when she left, as though trying to spot her in the crowd. (Beth was pretty sure she'd left the kitchen area entirely.) "Hell of a trick for your first time, is all I'm saying, that was a damn fine woman."
Despite herself, Beth felt herself smirk back at him. "And you haven't even seen her naked."
She was going to go ahead and call that surprised little laugh a win — if only because it was better than David embarrassing her to amuse himself.
(If this was what having actual older brothers was like, she was kind of glad she didn't have any.)