Sly's long awaited challenge
Pistachio #14. The Night Before with a Brownie
Story : knights
Rating : R
Timeframe : Fall 1254
Word Count : 6511
Sly demanded this a LONG time ago and has been patiently waiting for it since.
Rune paused just before the doorway. Music poured from within the ballroom, a lively tune. Under different circumstances, he was sure he would have found himself eager to dance. He tugged at the stiff collar of his shirt and scratched the back of his neck. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and stepped through the door.
The party had only just begun, and yet the room was already crowded. Ladies in silky gowns of all different styles and hues were gliding gracefully across the dance floor. The men were far fewer in number, but no less lavishly dressed, no less primped. An enormous column at the center of the room housed a massive fireplace from which leaping flames cast their glow over the crowd and sent shadows dancing across the walls.
Rune scanned the room for familiar faces. Not surprisingly, few stood out. It had been a year since his last visit to the capitol, and there were not many from that time that he wished to remember. In the week since their arrival, he’d made a point to spend as little time in or about the castle as possible, unless it was in his own quarters. He was certain his friends would have come to the party by now. He found it hard to believe he would be the first to arrive. With such a large crowd, it might take awhile to spot any of them.
A hand settled on his shoulder and he turned to see Tess standing beside him. She wore a gown of deep blue satin, and her usually wild hair had been tamed and pinned into an elaborate arrangement so that soft dark curls neatly framed her face. Rune caught himself, a little late, doing a double take.
"Why, thank you," she said with a giggle and a bit a of blush. "You don't look so bad yourself. You might even be handsome if you would just stop fidgeting and smile a little."
"I'd take that as a compliment, but it's not really me you're looking at." He gave his collar another tug.
"Lighten up a little, would you? At least try to have some fun." She grabbed him by the arm and started forward. "Let's dance."
"Are you serious?" He nearly choked on the words.
"Why not? I've seen you dance before."
"That was different," he protested. "It wasn't... here."
Tess caught hold of his free hand and he knew there was no point in resisting. The woman could certainly best him physically, and he doubted he was much of a match for her willpower either. Besides, dancing seemed a more pleasant alternative to standing by himself in a corner. He felt as if everyone must be watching as he staggered out onto the dance floor. Tess grinned up at him as she continued to guide him, placing his hand on her hip.
"You're enjoying this a little too much," he said.
"Just relax. You should see your face right now. You know, you are simply adorable when you blush."
"That's quite enough," he said, lowering his gaze to concentrate on keeping his feet straight.
"You have nothing to worry about," she said. Already, he could feel himself becoming accustomed to the rhythm of the dance and his tension lessening. “Just pretend we’re back home and none of these people are there.”
As the two made their way slowly across the floor, Rune found himself marveling at the difference in his dance partner from her usual self. Though her grip on his hand was as firm and commanding as he would expect, she was surprisingly light on her feet. It was she who was leading him through the steps, but with such grace he thought it unlikely anyone else noticed. A cloud of blue satin flowed around them both as they twirled around the room and Rune couldn't help but smile at the thought that the friend he knew lurked somewhere beneath all this finery.
"And what, may I ask, is so funny?" she chided him.
"It's just that I don't believe I've seen you in a dress since last year's ball."
"Aww, don't I get to be a girl now and then?" she said with such an exaggerated pout he found himself laughing out loud.
"No, it suits you quite well, actually. It's just a bit- is that lavender?"
"You should know." She laughed. "What is the fun in dressing up if you're not going to go all the way?"
"You never cease to amaze me," he said with a chuckle. "Remind me next time we have to go to one of these things to find you right away. So far this has been much better than I expected."
"You see? You just need to give it a chance. But you had best have a dance or two with Ski later. She would kill me if she thought I was trying to keep you to myself."
"Why-"
"Oh, look, there's Ilya." She lifted her hand from his shoulder to point in the direction of the enormous buffet table.
Rune followed her gesture, still confused about her remark about Ski, to see Ilya, enveloped in white ribbons and lace. Her hair was set in an intricate weaving and layering of curls atop her head much like Tess's but adorned with a silver tiara. Dalton stood beside her, no less at home in his own lavish attire, their hands clasped between them. A group of nobles, none of whom Rune recognized, was gathered around them. Ilya was speaking quite animatedly with them, while Dalton remained still at her side, moving only to take an occasional sip from the glass of wine he held in his other hand.
"I don’t suppose you will be making any comments on Ilya's dress," Tess teased.
"I sometimes think Ilya wakes up looking like that," he said, and then, as the song they'd been dancing to died away, "Shall we go meet them?"
"Certainly, but I am not through with you. I expect another dance later, and next time you lead."
Rune felt the blush creeping back into his cheeks. "I'd be happy to, if you'll give me a chance. But what was that about Ski?"
"Tess! Rune!" Ilya was already rushing to meet them, with Dalton in tow, as they left the dance floor.
"Hello, you two," Tess called back.
"Good evening, Ilya, Your Highness." Rune said with a slight bow in Dalton's direction who returned the greeting with a silent nod. Tess rolled her eyes.
Ilya gave Rune a light slap on the arm. "What has gotten into you?"
"Life is hard enough for me when we're here. I won't add to it by having anyone thinking I've insulted the prince."
"Understood," said Dalton, the corner of his lips lifting slightly. "I should not mind escaping this crowd for awhile myself," he added with a sidelong glance at Ilya, who still clutched his hand in hers.
"Well, at least you are coming around a bit," Ilya said. "You and Tess were just lovely on the dance floor. You shall have to ask Ski to dance later."
"Why is everyone suddenly so concerned about me and Ski?" Rune asked, bewildered.
"Well, I'm starved," Tess announced and quickly headed for the buffet table.
"Quit changing the subject." Rune followed after her. He'd almost caught up to her when he nearly collided with Masakari.
"Ski," he said, stopping abruptly.
"You seem surprised to see me," she said.
"No, not at all. In fact we were just... nevermind."
“I saw you dancing.” There was laughter in her eyes, though it didn’t reach her lips. His hand drifted back to his collar and his cheeks grew suddenly warm. “I am glad not to see you sulking along the walls as I had feared you might.”
“I’d like to think I’ve learned a thing or two about living in your world.”
“I suppose it does not hurt that more than a few have cultivated a healthy fear of you and your abilities,” she said with a grin.
“Hey!” He gave the irksome fabric a tug as the temperature seemed to take another leap. “No trouble this time, I swear.”
Ski laughed. “It was meant only in jest.”
Rune’s eyes narrowed as he caught sight of a familiar face in the crowd. “Well, there’s someone who could do with a healthy fear of one of us.”
“Come again?” Ski followed his gaze and her expression turned sour.
The red-headed royals were hard to miss. Prince Terrel was especially so, with his trademark grin and confidant swagger. The crowd all but melted before him as he came strutting their way.
“Masakari, dearest,” he said, taking an exaggerated bow before her.
She withdrew her hand as he reached for it. “I hardly think I am your dearest anything,”
He closed his eyes and laid the rejected hand against his chest as if it pained him. “Why must you torment me so?”
Rune chewed his lip to keep from laughing. Ski rolled her eyes. “Yes, it did appear you were in most excruciating agony just minutes ago when you were all over Lonna Wyram.”
That brought him quickly back to attention. “A distraction,” he said. “You. You, my dear…” He reached again for her hand, which she made quite clear was not being offered.
“My House, you mean.”
He scowled. “Your mother seems to understand what an asset I would be to your House. Surely you can appreciate,” he added with a smirk, “that I can offer that and far more.” He looked her up and down, still grinning.
Though he told himself Ski was perfectly capable of dealing with Terrel, Rune couldn’t fight the urge to intervene. He laid a hand on her arm, which she was quick to shake off.
“Rune, please,” she said. “You need not.”
Rune drew his arms across his chest and his eyes narrowed as he looked from Ski to the prince. Terrel’s grin became a sneer as he shifted his gaze to Rune. “It would seem your pet has learned some manners since last year. Such a pity he still does not know his place. A peasant should never lay hands on a Lady.”
“I would sooner have his hands on me than yours,” she snapped. A flush filled her cheeks and she threw a hand to her mouth as both men turned to stare at her.
“Oh?” said Terrel, raising a brow. His grin returned, spreading wider than should have been possible. “Oh. So he is that sort of pet, then. Masakari, my dear, I never would have thought you the sort. No matter, far be it from me to hold such things against you. Nonetheless,” He give Rune a disapproving look and shook his head. “I should expect you would have better taste. Not much to look at. I suppose he makes up for it between the sheets, does he?”
Rune felt Ski’s hand close over his wrist before he even realized he had set himself in motion. “I will not abide your slander,” she said. “Of myself nor my friends.”
The look of smug disdain never leaving his face, Terrel shook his head at Ski. “You will one day find yourself a lonely woman. You need not,” he added, with a casual wave, as he strode back into the crowd. “My offer still stands.”
Ski turned to Rune, her face drained of its color as she let go of his arm. “I must apologize.”
“For what? You can’t think anything he says has any bearing on-”
“No, not for Terrel,” she said, “for any insinuations I may have made.”
He laughed, but soon cut the sound short as he realized how uneasy it was. The bell that signaled the immanent arrival of dinner saved them both any further embarrassment. Without another word, they turned and headed for their table.
Tess and Farran had already taken their seats by the time the two of them reached the table. As Rune pulled a chair out for himself, slender fingers curled over the back of the one beside it. The chair whisked past him and the cloud of white that was Ilya settled herself into it. All eyes settled on the tiny blonde as Rune and Ski quietly took their places as well.
“Not dining with Dalton?” Farran asked.
Ilya cast her a dark look as she reached for her drink. “I belong here. Besides, the table is crawling with dignitaries from Ceylor.”
“All the more reason to join them,” said Ski. “Perhaps then we would know what this meeting was to be about.”
“If an ear at the royal table is what you wish, you could sit there yourself,” said Ilya.
Ski took up her own drink rather than make a response. Farran laughed. “As if she could pick up anything useful while dodging Terrel’s hands.”
“I mean to keep his hands as far from me as I can,” said Ski.
Ilya scowled. “I do wish you would tell him so. I am growing tired of dodging questions on your behalf.”
“I thought I had mad my disdain for the man quite clear on numerous occasions,” Ski said, leaning back in her chair to give room to the servants arriving with their meal.
“Not the way he sees it,” Ilya said, serving herself from one of the steaming platters set before them. “He finds you to be a challenge.”
“Am I to take the blame for his foolish delusions?” Ski set to filling her own plate. “What more am I to do?”
“You have toyed with the man as much as he has you.” Rune caught the dish she shoved, without looking, in his direction. “If you are not enjoying this, as some part of me thinks you must, you could make your rejection official and be done with it.” The two blonde knights glared at each other from across the table. Rune shrank back in his seat between them, quietly spooning vegetables from the serving dish.
Tess broke the tension. “Maybe she is afraid to find out what other offers she might get. One prince is bad enough.”
“We all know there is a particular offer she’s holding out for,” said Farran. Ski’s brow knit in confusion as she turned to her grinning friend.
Rune struggled not to drop the platter of meat he had just been passed as Ilya’s knee struck his chair. Righting himself, he looked to her, expecting an apology, but she gave no sign she was even aware of her actions.
“When did my love life become everyone else’s concern?”
“Since you’ve made such a point of not having one,” came Farran’s answer.
Ski opened her mouth to protest, but just stared foolishly as Tess’s hand settled on her shoulder. “Really, dear,” said Tess. “No one is suggesting that you commit yourself to anything, but you could be a little more open to the thought.”
Rune thought he heard something muttered from Farran’s direction about ‘getting laid‘, and he was sure Ski caught the remark as well, as her cheeks flared. With a bit of choking and stuttering, she finally managed to find her voice. She shrugged off Tess‘s well-meaning hand and ran her own through her hair as much as its elaborate arrangement would permit. “If I am to take as much abuse here as anywhere else, I might as well find some profit in it,” she said. “I will go see what these dignitaries have to say.”
Rune felt a tug on his arm as he opened his mouth, not at all certain what he intended to say, but sure someone should stop her from leaving. He turned to find Ilya shaking her head at him. “Let her go,” she said. “There won’t be much reasoning with her right now.” He settled back in his seat with a frown as he watched Ski make her way to the head table.
Terrel’s greeting was smug as Ski took the seat next to him. He met her insistance that she was there for the company of the ambassadors with indifference, but he kept his hands to himself and his comments to a minimum. The remainder of the meal found him frequently distracted by the hopeful glances of a number of girls, all of which were quick to make a point of turning away any time anyone else paid them any notice.
Dinner among the royals proved to be quite informative if one was interested in this year’s rice crop or the going rate for imperial silk. To a captain looking for hints about her next deployment, it was entirely useles. At least she managed to avoid further troubles regarding Terrel, as talk of business and agriculture seemed to take precedence over personal matters. More than once, Ski found her own gaze drawn back to her companions’ table. She wondered what had the trio talking so animatedly while Rune seemed to contribute little more than the occasional shake of his head as he picked at his food.
As the dishes were cleared, Ski excused her self, hurrying away before Terrel could find any reason to follow her. Her friends had dispersed as well, and she was unable to find sight of them in the crowd.
She snatched a bottle and a glass from the buffet, and wound her way among the tables, settling on one along the far wall. The tall bottle of red looked rather lonely once she’d placed it on the empty table. She pulled out a chair and filled the glass before seating herself.
“I saw you speaking with Terrel earlier.” Ski took a deep gulp of her wine to avoid responding to the voice behind her. Elisheva did not wait for an invitation to take the seat beside her, fanning the crimson velvet of her skirt to lay flat across the chair. “Well?” she said, an expectant smile gracing full lips whose careful painting brought them into sharp contrast with her skin.
“Well, what?” said Ski.
“No one was expecting you to dine with us tonight.” Her eyes settled on the bottle as if she expected to be offered a drink.
“I thought I might glean something of use from our guests,” Ski said, pointedly ignoring the unspoken request.
“The Queen was pleased to see you there.”
“I do not recall her saying a word to me.”
“Nonetheless.”
Ski took another gulp of wine and wondered if she could bore the woman into leaving. Elisheva showed no intention of doing any such thing. “Just when do you intend to get on with it?”
“With what?” said Ski, finally looking her fully in the face.
Ellie gave a sigh and a carefully orchestrated batting of her delicate lashes. “Everyone is waiting for you to accept his proposal.”
“I have more important things to concern myself with.”
She arched a brow of the same deep gold they shared with their mothers. Ski wondered if she looked so wretchedly self important when she did the same. “These demons Kinari has you believing in?”
“These demons we have been fighting for the past year.” She focused on her glass rather than the woman beside her.
“Of course.” Ellie lapsed into silence. Ski quietly sipped her wine as if she were alone. “If your mother had the sense,” she continued at last, “she would have consented on your behalf years ago and not permitted you to pursue this foolishness.”
Her eyes narrowed as she lifted them to meet her gaze. “Perhaps my mother had sense enough to realize I might be capable of putting some thought into the matter myself.”
“What is there to think about?”
“Just how happy are you with Harmon?”
Even her laugh was smug. “He can satisfy me better than the three feet of steel you call a companion.”
Such a flood of wine entered her mouth that she nearly choked. “Hardly worthwhile compensation, given the price attached,” she said once she found her breath.
Ellie shrugged. “I will be Queen one day, what more compensation do I need?”
“Marrying Terrel will benefit his position far more than mine.” She drained the last of her drink as if she could wash the taste of his name from her mouth.
“No one is closer to Harmon than Terrel. What better asset could you provide your House?”
“Always my House.” She eyed the empty glass a moment before pouring another. “What of love?”
“What of it?”
Ski took another gulp. “Do you not ever think you may have missed it?”
“Love has its place in fairy stories. There is little room for such nonsense where things of real importance are concerned. Have your fun if you must and then kindly remind yourself you are a Burnoire and above such things.”
She watched the red liquid swirl as she turned the cup between her fingers. “I think I would rather keep my sword for a companion awhile longer.”
“It is peacetime. You can scarcely justify clinging to your post indefinitely.”
“Peacetime? Not from my vantage.”
“The supposed demons again?”
“That’s right.” Her hand clenched around the neck of the bottle. She swept it from the table and strode away, not caring to look back to see how much this angered Elisheva.
A hand closed over hers, forcing her to a sudden halt. Ski looked up to find Farran’s green eyes, calm but stern, returning her gaze.
“Drinking alone hardly seems the best way to spend the evening,” she said.
“Being alone is certainly better than enduring the company of some.“ Ski glanced back to the table she had just abandoned, where Danelle and the princes had since settled.
“I should hope that does not include mine.”
“Of course not.”
The bottle slid from her grasp into Farran’s and a hand settled on her back, steering her towards the nearest table. She settled into a chair, layers of blue satin bunching and folding carelessly beneath her. Farran procured another glass, from where she was not certain, and took a seat beside her.
“It is a wonder your family keeps its influence,” she said, pouring herself a drink. “With the knack you all have for distancing yourselves from those around you.”
“Because I do not prostrate myself before them?” She gave the table of royals an angry glare.
“Because you will not admit you are one of them.”
Ski took a gulp from her glass. “I will gladly accept my mother’s position and all the politicking that entails. Is it too much to ask that it not follow me to the bedroom?” Terrel was absent from the gathering of his family around the small table, but he was easily found by checking the darkest corners of the room. Ski was hard pressed to put a name to the girl in his arms at the moment. “I wonder,” she said, as Farran’s eyes followed hers to the pair, “whether it is his constant absence I dread, or enduring that attention brought upon myself.” She took another sip while her companion laughed.
“He is not your only option.”
“He’s the only one that has made an offer.”
Farran shrugged. “Put that offer to rest and see how many more you find yourself with.”
Ski took another sip to fight the shudder that forced itself along her spine. “I doubt I find one more sincere than the first.”
“You will never be satisfied with any offer as long as you keep your eyes on what you cannot have.”
“Whatever is that supposed to-”
A hand fell across her shoulder, causing Ski to nearly leap from her seat. A look behind was met with deep blue eyes and a tentative smile.
“Excuse me,” Rune said. “But Ilya seems to have this silly notion that you could use a dance partner.”
“She does now, does she? Do you mind?” she asked Farran.
“Not at all,” said Farran, taking possession of the bottle with a grin.
Laying a hand over Rune’s, Ski rose to her feet. She wondered a moment at the fact that the ground seemed less stable than she thought it should beneath her. Her eyes settled on the slender fingers that wound themselves around her own, as his other hand found her hip.
His steps were slow and uncertain, but his hands gave a firm and constant force, pulling her into the dance. She wondered if Tess had stood for such awkward treatment earlier or simply taken the lead herself. Rune’s smile was patient as her feet struggled to match his step.
“Are you feeling alright?” he asked.
“I am fine,” she said, with a bit more force than she had intended. “Or at least I will be when I am through dealing with pompous princes and meddling cousins.”
One blonde brow rose sharply, as did the corner of his mouth. “More comfortable around demons?” he said.
“Actually, yes.” Ski sighed. When she inhaled, the strange flower and spice scent that always clung to him filled her. She’d never noticed before how appealing it was, and she shook her head, wondering why it would be so now.
The shifting and swaying crowd faded and blurred. Her feet carried out long familiar steps without thought, though she was vaguely aware it was a far from flawless execution. Her eyes settled on their hands, the long slender fingers no less rough and calloused than her own that wound between them. Rune cleared his throat, bringing her to attention. Her cheeks flushed as she realized she’d been running her thumb over his.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” She closed her eyes against the penetrating gaze of his and silently nodded. “You know,” he said, in what seemed a forced attempt to keep his tone conversational. “Everyone seems to have these strange ideas about us tonight.”
“I had noticed,” she said, her eyes traveling anywhere but to his as an uncomfortable silence fell between them.
“Seems we’re the only ones not to have anything to say about it.”
“I defended your honor to Terrel, did I not?”
He laughed and she made the mistake of letting herself look him in the eye. “That’s not what I meant. I was talking about Ilya and Tess and the way they’ve been badgering me all night to dance with you. As if a few minutes alone would have us all smitten with each other.” Those deep blue eyes echoed the casual amusement in his voice, but something else lurked beneath it. She wondered, as she offered her own uneasy smile in return, why she couldn’t pull herself from them.
“Foolish,” she said, the word dissolving into awkward laughter. “That you and I… to think…” What had Farran said? Something about having her eyes on what she couldn’t have? “Do they have nothing better to concern themselves with?”
“I suppose not,” he said.
Foolish, indeed, she thought. If their friends wished to get them together, it was something they would have to get over. It wasn’t as if her family would ever accept Rune as a suitor. They had their hearts set on a prince. And she wasn’t about to have an affair with the man, though somehow even the thought that such a thing could happen brought a flush to her cheeks. Rune scarcely deserved to actually become the pet Terrel had accused her of keeping, and she didn’t want a pet. What she wanted was a friend and an equal. She wondered, as she found herself staring once again at their hands, who had ever been more of either to her than Rune.
She let out a sigh, and he angled his head in an effort to catch her eyes. “Something wrong?” he said.
Ski closed her eyes against the look that threatened to pull from her all that she told herself she didn’t want to say. “I… Maybe I need to sit down.”
He forced a smile as he relinquished her hand. “Maybe later?” he said. She nodded and headed back towards the tables.
The remainder of the night was uneventful. Rune passed the time near the buffet, chatting with Tess and the numerous siblings she introduced him to about little that was of any importance. The occasional glance Masakari’s way found her condition deteriorating as the contents of the bottle before her were depleted. He lingered in the ballroom far longer than he would have liked, reluctant to leave without her, but afraid to intervene.
The crowd had thinned greatly by the time Tess asked him to dance again. One dance led to another and another and neither could deny that it was growing late.
“I think it is about time we called it a night,” she said as the song began to wind itself down.
“I’m worried about Ski,” he said and Tess followed his gaze to the otherwise empty table where Masakari sat, staring into a half-empty wineglass.
“I do not believe I have ever seen her like this,” Tess agreed. “Perhaps one of us should help her back to her room. I would hate to find her here in the morning.”
“I can do it,” Rune offered. “Thank you for the dance,” he added, squeezing her hand before releasing it.
“Certainly.”
Rune crossed the short distance from the dance floor to their table. He pulled up a chair and seated himself next to Ski. Her gaze was now focused somewhere in the rapidly thinning crowd scattered about the dance floor and she made no move to acknowledge his arrival.
“It must be nice,” she mumbled.
“What?” he said. He peered into the crowd, thinking she had been staring at nothing, and quickly spotted Ilya and Dalton in a far corner, their attention focused on each other as if there were no one else about. “Well, seems he is a prince after all,” he commented as Dalton continued to smother Ilya with kisses.
“They’ve known since they were children,” she said. “Neither one ever even had to think about it. They just knew the other was always going to be there.”
Rune regarded her with disbelief. “You’re wishing your parents set up something for you?”
“It certainly would make things easier,” she said, turning her attention to the glass in her hand with a sigh.
He shook his head. “I’m sure your parents must be thrilled with the offer you already have.”
“Then again…” She shuddered.
“Haven’t you had enough of that?” he asked as she took another gulp from her glass.
Ski swallowed the wine hastily. She turned abruptly to look him in the eye. “Rune, have you ever been in love?” she asked.
He blinked, taken aback at finding himself now the topic of conversation and not certain he liked where it might be headed. “Once,” he said, slipping the glass from her fingers. He took a quick gulp and nearly choked as the liquid seared his throat,
“What are you drinking?” he said, hastily returning the glass to the table.
“Not sure.” She eyed what he had thought to be a wine bottle and its deep red contents. “Lyssa said it was good. Seems to be effective at any rate.”
Rune stared at her in disbelief. “Effective?” He shook his head. “What has gotten into you tonight?”
She let out a sigh and a nervous laugh. “This pressure to marry. I’m lonely now. If I tie myself to… to that. Don’t I get to be in love? I don’t even know if I know how. If I would miss it if it was right in front of me. What was it like… to be in love?”
“I… uh…” He took the glass and forced down another sip of the bitter drink.
Masakari sighed. “Not something you want to talk about?”
“No,” he said, struggling to push back the images that suddenly crowded his thoughts.
“Is that why you had to leave-”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, draining her glass.
He sat, staring uncomfortably at the empty glass in his hand. Ski broke the silence, “Don’t you tire of being alone?” She laid her hand over his, sending a chill up his spine that cut sharply through the flood of memories. Her hand, long accustomed to holding a sword, was strong as she closed her fingers firmly over his, yet her touch was warm and gentle. “Everyone seems to think… I mean, maybe we could…“ Her eyes were fixed on him. There was somehow something softer about their usually steely blue. The always composed sometimes warrior, sometimes elegant lady was uncharacteristically disheveled. Her hair had been nervously plucked from its careful styling to fall in a disorganized mass across her shoulders. The long skirt of her blue satin ball gown lay in a crumpled heap around her. She looked vulnerable, Rune thought, almost human. It was the alcohol, he reminded himself. This wasn’t really Ski. He shook his head, realizing he had been staring.
“It’s late,” he said, freeing his hand from hers. “And, if you don’t mind my saying so, you’ve had a bit too much to drink. You really should turn in.”
“But-”
“I’ll help you back to your room,” he offered, rising to his feet. “I don’t much like the thought of you trying to make it on your own.”
“Nonsense,” she said, pushing her own chair back from the table. She stood and would have fallen promptly to the floor had Rune not caught her.
“Let me go with you,” he said, tentatively releasing her. She teetered on her feet a moment and grabbed his arm to steady herself.
“Alright,” she conceded, unable to let go.
With Ski clinging to one of Rune’s arms for support, and his other hand against her back to guide her, the two made their way to the exit. The warmth of the fire and the crowd soon faded as they traversed the broad halls of the palace. Outside the range of the music, their footsteps reverberated off of the bare stone walls. Ski said nothing. She seemed to be focusing all her effort on simply remaining upright and allowed Rune to steer her along. Not wanting to distract her from the task of placing one shaky foot in front of the other, Rune kept quiet as well. More than once, she lost her balance and staggered, but Rune was always there to help her right herself before she fell.
Before long, they found themselves in the wing that held the guests’ quarters, navigating the maze of narrow corridors to the one off which their own rooms lay. Light seeping from the seams of one of the doors indicated that Farran had already returned to her chambers. The two paused in front of Ski’s door. Rune reached around Ski to push the door open and she let go of his arm, bracing herself instead on the doorframe. Standing without his aid for the first time, she turned to face him and the silence suddenly felt incredibly awkward.
“Will you be alright, then?” he asked, preparing to leave.
“I’ll manage,” she said, still clutching the doorframe.
“Well, goodnight, then.” He turned toward his own room.
“Rune, wait.” Her balance faltered as she took one hand from the wall to stop him. He reached out to catch her but her other hand lost its hold and she pitched forward, falling against him. Rune put his arms around her to help her stand. She made no move to separate herself from him, and Rune doubted he truly wanted to let her go. Another long silence passed between them.
Still holding onto Rune for support, Ski raised herself up on her toes. For one fleeting confused moment, he wondered if he ought to object, and then she kissed him. Her lips were soft and full, as, he had to admit, he imagined they would be, but her breath was thick and tasted strongly of alcohol. He returned her kiss and despised himself for enjoying it so much. He knew, were she sober, this would most certainly not be happening.
“Rune,” she said when they parted, and she ran her hand clumsily over his chest in what he assumed was meant to be a seductive gesture. “I know you’re as lonely as I am.” Her words slurred together.
“Ski.” He reached for her hand, which ceased its attention just long enough to elude his grasp.
“Lemme finish.” Her eyes caught his in a glassy stare. “We don’t have to be alone.” The look she gave the open door to her room was far from subtle.
“Ski,” he said again, firmly removing her roving hand. “Under different circumstances…”
With a strength surprising for one so inebriated, she pulled her hand from his grasp and caught hold of his wrist. She kissed him again soundly while pressing his hand over her own breast. She was soft and warm even through the thick gown, and his fingers curled around her before he fully realized what he was doing.
It took a great deal of control to pull himself away. “You’re drunk, Ski,” he said, fighting to keep his hands from shaking. Ski staggered back against the doorframe, her mouth still moving as she failed to find words to answer him. “Go. Sleep it off. In the morning… Well, maybe, if you’re lucky, you won’t even remember in the morning.”
“Rune,” she said, sliding slowly towards the floor. He wondered if she was clear enough to make it from the doorway to her bed and quickly told himself she would regret sleeping on the floor far less than anything she might try should he set foot inside her room.
“Goodnight, Ski,” he said. “I’ll be in my room if you want… I mean, if you need… Goodnight, Ski.”
He turned away, but, instead of crossing the hall to his own room, he headed for Farran’s door. Uncomfortably aware that Ski’s eyes were still on him, though she said nothing more, he rapped on the door. A moment later a somewhat dissheveled Farran, who had traded her ball gown for a silky green robe, answered.
“I think Ski could use your help,” he told her.
She glanced in the direction of Ski’s room, where she still sat slumped in the doorway, and grinned. Then she looked back at Rune and gave a sad shake of her head. “You sure?” she said.
Rune scowled at her. “Yes.”
Farran shrugged. “Goodnight, Rune,” she said, patting him on the shoulder.
“Goodnight,” he answered and headed for his own room. As he opened the door, he watched Farran half lead, half drag Masakari into her room.
Rune closed the door quietly behind him before discarding his bothersome formal clothes and slipping beneath the covers. Millie was already there, curled up on a pillow and snoring. He patted her head as he searched for a comfortable position on the overstuffed mattress and she responded with a sleepy purr.
He closed his eyes and wondered, as he drifted off to sleep, what, if anything, Ski would think of all this come morning.
Story : knights
Rating : R
Timeframe : Fall 1254
Word Count : 6511
Sly demanded this a LONG time ago and has been patiently waiting for it since.
Rune paused just before the doorway. Music poured from within the ballroom, a lively tune. Under different circumstances, he was sure he would have found himself eager to dance. He tugged at the stiff collar of his shirt and scratched the back of his neck. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and stepped through the door.
The party had only just begun, and yet the room was already crowded. Ladies in silky gowns of all different styles and hues were gliding gracefully across the dance floor. The men were far fewer in number, but no less lavishly dressed, no less primped. An enormous column at the center of the room housed a massive fireplace from which leaping flames cast their glow over the crowd and sent shadows dancing across the walls.
Rune scanned the room for familiar faces. Not surprisingly, few stood out. It had been a year since his last visit to the capitol, and there were not many from that time that he wished to remember. In the week since their arrival, he’d made a point to spend as little time in or about the castle as possible, unless it was in his own quarters. He was certain his friends would have come to the party by now. He found it hard to believe he would be the first to arrive. With such a large crowd, it might take awhile to spot any of them.
A hand settled on his shoulder and he turned to see Tess standing beside him. She wore a gown of deep blue satin, and her usually wild hair had been tamed and pinned into an elaborate arrangement so that soft dark curls neatly framed her face. Rune caught himself, a little late, doing a double take.
"Why, thank you," she said with a giggle and a bit a of blush. "You don't look so bad yourself. You might even be handsome if you would just stop fidgeting and smile a little."
"I'd take that as a compliment, but it's not really me you're looking at." He gave his collar another tug.
"Lighten up a little, would you? At least try to have some fun." She grabbed him by the arm and started forward. "Let's dance."
"Are you serious?" He nearly choked on the words.
"Why not? I've seen you dance before."
"That was different," he protested. "It wasn't... here."
Tess caught hold of his free hand and he knew there was no point in resisting. The woman could certainly best him physically, and he doubted he was much of a match for her willpower either. Besides, dancing seemed a more pleasant alternative to standing by himself in a corner. He felt as if everyone must be watching as he staggered out onto the dance floor. Tess grinned up at him as she continued to guide him, placing his hand on her hip.
"You're enjoying this a little too much," he said.
"Just relax. You should see your face right now. You know, you are simply adorable when you blush."
"That's quite enough," he said, lowering his gaze to concentrate on keeping his feet straight.
"You have nothing to worry about," she said. Already, he could feel himself becoming accustomed to the rhythm of the dance and his tension lessening. “Just pretend we’re back home and none of these people are there.”
As the two made their way slowly across the floor, Rune found himself marveling at the difference in his dance partner from her usual self. Though her grip on his hand was as firm and commanding as he would expect, she was surprisingly light on her feet. It was she who was leading him through the steps, but with such grace he thought it unlikely anyone else noticed. A cloud of blue satin flowed around them both as they twirled around the room and Rune couldn't help but smile at the thought that the friend he knew lurked somewhere beneath all this finery.
"And what, may I ask, is so funny?" she chided him.
"It's just that I don't believe I've seen you in a dress since last year's ball."
"Aww, don't I get to be a girl now and then?" she said with such an exaggerated pout he found himself laughing out loud.
"No, it suits you quite well, actually. It's just a bit- is that lavender?"
"You should know." She laughed. "What is the fun in dressing up if you're not going to go all the way?"
"You never cease to amaze me," he said with a chuckle. "Remind me next time we have to go to one of these things to find you right away. So far this has been much better than I expected."
"You see? You just need to give it a chance. But you had best have a dance or two with Ski later. She would kill me if she thought I was trying to keep you to myself."
"Why-"
"Oh, look, there's Ilya." She lifted her hand from his shoulder to point in the direction of the enormous buffet table.
Rune followed her gesture, still confused about her remark about Ski, to see Ilya, enveloped in white ribbons and lace. Her hair was set in an intricate weaving and layering of curls atop her head much like Tess's but adorned with a silver tiara. Dalton stood beside her, no less at home in his own lavish attire, their hands clasped between them. A group of nobles, none of whom Rune recognized, was gathered around them. Ilya was speaking quite animatedly with them, while Dalton remained still at her side, moving only to take an occasional sip from the glass of wine he held in his other hand.
"I don’t suppose you will be making any comments on Ilya's dress," Tess teased.
"I sometimes think Ilya wakes up looking like that," he said, and then, as the song they'd been dancing to died away, "Shall we go meet them?"
"Certainly, but I am not through with you. I expect another dance later, and next time you lead."
Rune felt the blush creeping back into his cheeks. "I'd be happy to, if you'll give me a chance. But what was that about Ski?"
"Tess! Rune!" Ilya was already rushing to meet them, with Dalton in tow, as they left the dance floor.
"Hello, you two," Tess called back.
"Good evening, Ilya, Your Highness." Rune said with a slight bow in Dalton's direction who returned the greeting with a silent nod. Tess rolled her eyes.
Ilya gave Rune a light slap on the arm. "What has gotten into you?"
"Life is hard enough for me when we're here. I won't add to it by having anyone thinking I've insulted the prince."
"Understood," said Dalton, the corner of his lips lifting slightly. "I should not mind escaping this crowd for awhile myself," he added with a sidelong glance at Ilya, who still clutched his hand in hers.
"Well, at least you are coming around a bit," Ilya said. "You and Tess were just lovely on the dance floor. You shall have to ask Ski to dance later."
"Why is everyone suddenly so concerned about me and Ski?" Rune asked, bewildered.
"Well, I'm starved," Tess announced and quickly headed for the buffet table.
"Quit changing the subject." Rune followed after her. He'd almost caught up to her when he nearly collided with Masakari.
"Ski," he said, stopping abruptly.
"You seem surprised to see me," she said.
"No, not at all. In fact we were just... nevermind."
“I saw you dancing.” There was laughter in her eyes, though it didn’t reach her lips. His hand drifted back to his collar and his cheeks grew suddenly warm. “I am glad not to see you sulking along the walls as I had feared you might.”
“I’d like to think I’ve learned a thing or two about living in your world.”
“I suppose it does not hurt that more than a few have cultivated a healthy fear of you and your abilities,” she said with a grin.
“Hey!” He gave the irksome fabric a tug as the temperature seemed to take another leap. “No trouble this time, I swear.”
Ski laughed. “It was meant only in jest.”
Rune’s eyes narrowed as he caught sight of a familiar face in the crowd. “Well, there’s someone who could do with a healthy fear of one of us.”
“Come again?” Ski followed his gaze and her expression turned sour.
The red-headed royals were hard to miss. Prince Terrel was especially so, with his trademark grin and confidant swagger. The crowd all but melted before him as he came strutting their way.
“Masakari, dearest,” he said, taking an exaggerated bow before her.
She withdrew her hand as he reached for it. “I hardly think I am your dearest anything,”
He closed his eyes and laid the rejected hand against his chest as if it pained him. “Why must you torment me so?”
Rune chewed his lip to keep from laughing. Ski rolled her eyes. “Yes, it did appear you were in most excruciating agony just minutes ago when you were all over Lonna Wyram.”
That brought him quickly back to attention. “A distraction,” he said. “You. You, my dear…” He reached again for her hand, which she made quite clear was not being offered.
“My House, you mean.”
He scowled. “Your mother seems to understand what an asset I would be to your House. Surely you can appreciate,” he added with a smirk, “that I can offer that and far more.” He looked her up and down, still grinning.
Though he told himself Ski was perfectly capable of dealing with Terrel, Rune couldn’t fight the urge to intervene. He laid a hand on her arm, which she was quick to shake off.
“Rune, please,” she said. “You need not.”
Rune drew his arms across his chest and his eyes narrowed as he looked from Ski to the prince. Terrel’s grin became a sneer as he shifted his gaze to Rune. “It would seem your pet has learned some manners since last year. Such a pity he still does not know his place. A peasant should never lay hands on a Lady.”
“I would sooner have his hands on me than yours,” she snapped. A flush filled her cheeks and she threw a hand to her mouth as both men turned to stare at her.
“Oh?” said Terrel, raising a brow. His grin returned, spreading wider than should have been possible. “Oh. So he is that sort of pet, then. Masakari, my dear, I never would have thought you the sort. No matter, far be it from me to hold such things against you. Nonetheless,” He give Rune a disapproving look and shook his head. “I should expect you would have better taste. Not much to look at. I suppose he makes up for it between the sheets, does he?”
Rune felt Ski’s hand close over his wrist before he even realized he had set himself in motion. “I will not abide your slander,” she said. “Of myself nor my friends.”
The look of smug disdain never leaving his face, Terrel shook his head at Ski. “You will one day find yourself a lonely woman. You need not,” he added, with a casual wave, as he strode back into the crowd. “My offer still stands.”
Ski turned to Rune, her face drained of its color as she let go of his arm. “I must apologize.”
“For what? You can’t think anything he says has any bearing on-”
“No, not for Terrel,” she said, “for any insinuations I may have made.”
He laughed, but soon cut the sound short as he realized how uneasy it was. The bell that signaled the immanent arrival of dinner saved them both any further embarrassment. Without another word, they turned and headed for their table.
Tess and Farran had already taken their seats by the time the two of them reached the table. As Rune pulled a chair out for himself, slender fingers curled over the back of the one beside it. The chair whisked past him and the cloud of white that was Ilya settled herself into it. All eyes settled on the tiny blonde as Rune and Ski quietly took their places as well.
“Not dining with Dalton?” Farran asked.
Ilya cast her a dark look as she reached for her drink. “I belong here. Besides, the table is crawling with dignitaries from Ceylor.”
“All the more reason to join them,” said Ski. “Perhaps then we would know what this meeting was to be about.”
“If an ear at the royal table is what you wish, you could sit there yourself,” said Ilya.
Ski took up her own drink rather than make a response. Farran laughed. “As if she could pick up anything useful while dodging Terrel’s hands.”
“I mean to keep his hands as far from me as I can,” said Ski.
Ilya scowled. “I do wish you would tell him so. I am growing tired of dodging questions on your behalf.”
“I thought I had mad my disdain for the man quite clear on numerous occasions,” Ski said, leaning back in her chair to give room to the servants arriving with their meal.
“Not the way he sees it,” Ilya said, serving herself from one of the steaming platters set before them. “He finds you to be a challenge.”
“Am I to take the blame for his foolish delusions?” Ski set to filling her own plate. “What more am I to do?”
“You have toyed with the man as much as he has you.” Rune caught the dish she shoved, without looking, in his direction. “If you are not enjoying this, as some part of me thinks you must, you could make your rejection official and be done with it.” The two blonde knights glared at each other from across the table. Rune shrank back in his seat between them, quietly spooning vegetables from the serving dish.
Tess broke the tension. “Maybe she is afraid to find out what other offers she might get. One prince is bad enough.”
“We all know there is a particular offer she’s holding out for,” said Farran. Ski’s brow knit in confusion as she turned to her grinning friend.
Rune struggled not to drop the platter of meat he had just been passed as Ilya’s knee struck his chair. Righting himself, he looked to her, expecting an apology, but she gave no sign she was even aware of her actions.
“When did my love life become everyone else’s concern?”
“Since you’ve made such a point of not having one,” came Farran’s answer.
Ski opened her mouth to protest, but just stared foolishly as Tess’s hand settled on her shoulder. “Really, dear,” said Tess. “No one is suggesting that you commit yourself to anything, but you could be a little more open to the thought.”
Rune thought he heard something muttered from Farran’s direction about ‘getting laid‘, and he was sure Ski caught the remark as well, as her cheeks flared. With a bit of choking and stuttering, she finally managed to find her voice. She shrugged off Tess‘s well-meaning hand and ran her own through her hair as much as its elaborate arrangement would permit. “If I am to take as much abuse here as anywhere else, I might as well find some profit in it,” she said. “I will go see what these dignitaries have to say.”
Rune felt a tug on his arm as he opened his mouth, not at all certain what he intended to say, but sure someone should stop her from leaving. He turned to find Ilya shaking her head at him. “Let her go,” she said. “There won’t be much reasoning with her right now.” He settled back in his seat with a frown as he watched Ski make her way to the head table.
Terrel’s greeting was smug as Ski took the seat next to him. He met her insistance that she was there for the company of the ambassadors with indifference, but he kept his hands to himself and his comments to a minimum. The remainder of the meal found him frequently distracted by the hopeful glances of a number of girls, all of which were quick to make a point of turning away any time anyone else paid them any notice.
Dinner among the royals proved to be quite informative if one was interested in this year’s rice crop or the going rate for imperial silk. To a captain looking for hints about her next deployment, it was entirely useles. At least she managed to avoid further troubles regarding Terrel, as talk of business and agriculture seemed to take precedence over personal matters. More than once, Ski found her own gaze drawn back to her companions’ table. She wondered what had the trio talking so animatedly while Rune seemed to contribute little more than the occasional shake of his head as he picked at his food.
As the dishes were cleared, Ski excused her self, hurrying away before Terrel could find any reason to follow her. Her friends had dispersed as well, and she was unable to find sight of them in the crowd.
She snatched a bottle and a glass from the buffet, and wound her way among the tables, settling on one along the far wall. The tall bottle of red looked rather lonely once she’d placed it on the empty table. She pulled out a chair and filled the glass before seating herself.
“I saw you speaking with Terrel earlier.” Ski took a deep gulp of her wine to avoid responding to the voice behind her. Elisheva did not wait for an invitation to take the seat beside her, fanning the crimson velvet of her skirt to lay flat across the chair. “Well?” she said, an expectant smile gracing full lips whose careful painting brought them into sharp contrast with her skin.
“Well, what?” said Ski.
“No one was expecting you to dine with us tonight.” Her eyes settled on the bottle as if she expected to be offered a drink.
“I thought I might glean something of use from our guests,” Ski said, pointedly ignoring the unspoken request.
“The Queen was pleased to see you there.”
“I do not recall her saying a word to me.”
“Nonetheless.”
Ski took another gulp of wine and wondered if she could bore the woman into leaving. Elisheva showed no intention of doing any such thing. “Just when do you intend to get on with it?”
“With what?” said Ski, finally looking her fully in the face.
Ellie gave a sigh and a carefully orchestrated batting of her delicate lashes. “Everyone is waiting for you to accept his proposal.”
“I have more important things to concern myself with.”
She arched a brow of the same deep gold they shared with their mothers. Ski wondered if she looked so wretchedly self important when she did the same. “These demons Kinari has you believing in?”
“These demons we have been fighting for the past year.” She focused on her glass rather than the woman beside her.
“Of course.” Ellie lapsed into silence. Ski quietly sipped her wine as if she were alone. “If your mother had the sense,” she continued at last, “she would have consented on your behalf years ago and not permitted you to pursue this foolishness.”
Her eyes narrowed as she lifted them to meet her gaze. “Perhaps my mother had sense enough to realize I might be capable of putting some thought into the matter myself.”
“What is there to think about?”
“Just how happy are you with Harmon?”
Even her laugh was smug. “He can satisfy me better than the three feet of steel you call a companion.”
Such a flood of wine entered her mouth that she nearly choked. “Hardly worthwhile compensation, given the price attached,” she said once she found her breath.
Ellie shrugged. “I will be Queen one day, what more compensation do I need?”
“Marrying Terrel will benefit his position far more than mine.” She drained the last of her drink as if she could wash the taste of his name from her mouth.
“No one is closer to Harmon than Terrel. What better asset could you provide your House?”
“Always my House.” She eyed the empty glass a moment before pouring another. “What of love?”
“What of it?”
Ski took another gulp. “Do you not ever think you may have missed it?”
“Love has its place in fairy stories. There is little room for such nonsense where things of real importance are concerned. Have your fun if you must and then kindly remind yourself you are a Burnoire and above such things.”
She watched the red liquid swirl as she turned the cup between her fingers. “I think I would rather keep my sword for a companion awhile longer.”
“It is peacetime. You can scarcely justify clinging to your post indefinitely.”
“Peacetime? Not from my vantage.”
“The supposed demons again?”
“That’s right.” Her hand clenched around the neck of the bottle. She swept it from the table and strode away, not caring to look back to see how much this angered Elisheva.
A hand closed over hers, forcing her to a sudden halt. Ski looked up to find Farran’s green eyes, calm but stern, returning her gaze.
“Drinking alone hardly seems the best way to spend the evening,” she said.
“Being alone is certainly better than enduring the company of some.“ Ski glanced back to the table she had just abandoned, where Danelle and the princes had since settled.
“I should hope that does not include mine.”
“Of course not.”
The bottle slid from her grasp into Farran’s and a hand settled on her back, steering her towards the nearest table. She settled into a chair, layers of blue satin bunching and folding carelessly beneath her. Farran procured another glass, from where she was not certain, and took a seat beside her.
“It is a wonder your family keeps its influence,” she said, pouring herself a drink. “With the knack you all have for distancing yourselves from those around you.”
“Because I do not prostrate myself before them?” She gave the table of royals an angry glare.
“Because you will not admit you are one of them.”
Ski took a gulp from her glass. “I will gladly accept my mother’s position and all the politicking that entails. Is it too much to ask that it not follow me to the bedroom?” Terrel was absent from the gathering of his family around the small table, but he was easily found by checking the darkest corners of the room. Ski was hard pressed to put a name to the girl in his arms at the moment. “I wonder,” she said, as Farran’s eyes followed hers to the pair, “whether it is his constant absence I dread, or enduring that attention brought upon myself.” She took another sip while her companion laughed.
“He is not your only option.”
“He’s the only one that has made an offer.”
Farran shrugged. “Put that offer to rest and see how many more you find yourself with.”
Ski took another sip to fight the shudder that forced itself along her spine. “I doubt I find one more sincere than the first.”
“You will never be satisfied with any offer as long as you keep your eyes on what you cannot have.”
“Whatever is that supposed to-”
A hand fell across her shoulder, causing Ski to nearly leap from her seat. A look behind was met with deep blue eyes and a tentative smile.
“Excuse me,” Rune said. “But Ilya seems to have this silly notion that you could use a dance partner.”
“She does now, does she? Do you mind?” she asked Farran.
“Not at all,” said Farran, taking possession of the bottle with a grin.
Laying a hand over Rune’s, Ski rose to her feet. She wondered a moment at the fact that the ground seemed less stable than she thought it should beneath her. Her eyes settled on the slender fingers that wound themselves around her own, as his other hand found her hip.
His steps were slow and uncertain, but his hands gave a firm and constant force, pulling her into the dance. She wondered if Tess had stood for such awkward treatment earlier or simply taken the lead herself. Rune’s smile was patient as her feet struggled to match his step.
“Are you feeling alright?” he asked.
“I am fine,” she said, with a bit more force than she had intended. “Or at least I will be when I am through dealing with pompous princes and meddling cousins.”
One blonde brow rose sharply, as did the corner of his mouth. “More comfortable around demons?” he said.
“Actually, yes.” Ski sighed. When she inhaled, the strange flower and spice scent that always clung to him filled her. She’d never noticed before how appealing it was, and she shook her head, wondering why it would be so now.
The shifting and swaying crowd faded and blurred. Her feet carried out long familiar steps without thought, though she was vaguely aware it was a far from flawless execution. Her eyes settled on their hands, the long slender fingers no less rough and calloused than her own that wound between them. Rune cleared his throat, bringing her to attention. Her cheeks flushed as she realized she’d been running her thumb over his.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” She closed her eyes against the penetrating gaze of his and silently nodded. “You know,” he said, in what seemed a forced attempt to keep his tone conversational. “Everyone seems to have these strange ideas about us tonight.”
“I had noticed,” she said, her eyes traveling anywhere but to his as an uncomfortable silence fell between them.
“Seems we’re the only ones not to have anything to say about it.”
“I defended your honor to Terrel, did I not?”
He laughed and she made the mistake of letting herself look him in the eye. “That’s not what I meant. I was talking about Ilya and Tess and the way they’ve been badgering me all night to dance with you. As if a few minutes alone would have us all smitten with each other.” Those deep blue eyes echoed the casual amusement in his voice, but something else lurked beneath it. She wondered, as she offered her own uneasy smile in return, why she couldn’t pull herself from them.
“Foolish,” she said, the word dissolving into awkward laughter. “That you and I… to think…” What had Farran said? Something about having her eyes on what she couldn’t have? “Do they have nothing better to concern themselves with?”
“I suppose not,” he said.
Foolish, indeed, she thought. If their friends wished to get them together, it was something they would have to get over. It wasn’t as if her family would ever accept Rune as a suitor. They had their hearts set on a prince. And she wasn’t about to have an affair with the man, though somehow even the thought that such a thing could happen brought a flush to her cheeks. Rune scarcely deserved to actually become the pet Terrel had accused her of keeping, and she didn’t want a pet. What she wanted was a friend and an equal. She wondered, as she found herself staring once again at their hands, who had ever been more of either to her than Rune.
She let out a sigh, and he angled his head in an effort to catch her eyes. “Something wrong?” he said.
Ski closed her eyes against the look that threatened to pull from her all that she told herself she didn’t want to say. “I… Maybe I need to sit down.”
He forced a smile as he relinquished her hand. “Maybe later?” he said. She nodded and headed back towards the tables.
The remainder of the night was uneventful. Rune passed the time near the buffet, chatting with Tess and the numerous siblings she introduced him to about little that was of any importance. The occasional glance Masakari’s way found her condition deteriorating as the contents of the bottle before her were depleted. He lingered in the ballroom far longer than he would have liked, reluctant to leave without her, but afraid to intervene.
The crowd had thinned greatly by the time Tess asked him to dance again. One dance led to another and another and neither could deny that it was growing late.
“I think it is about time we called it a night,” she said as the song began to wind itself down.
“I’m worried about Ski,” he said and Tess followed his gaze to the otherwise empty table where Masakari sat, staring into a half-empty wineglass.
“I do not believe I have ever seen her like this,” Tess agreed. “Perhaps one of us should help her back to her room. I would hate to find her here in the morning.”
“I can do it,” Rune offered. “Thank you for the dance,” he added, squeezing her hand before releasing it.
“Certainly.”
Rune crossed the short distance from the dance floor to their table. He pulled up a chair and seated himself next to Ski. Her gaze was now focused somewhere in the rapidly thinning crowd scattered about the dance floor and she made no move to acknowledge his arrival.
“It must be nice,” she mumbled.
“What?” he said. He peered into the crowd, thinking she had been staring at nothing, and quickly spotted Ilya and Dalton in a far corner, their attention focused on each other as if there were no one else about. “Well, seems he is a prince after all,” he commented as Dalton continued to smother Ilya with kisses.
“They’ve known since they were children,” she said. “Neither one ever even had to think about it. They just knew the other was always going to be there.”
Rune regarded her with disbelief. “You’re wishing your parents set up something for you?”
“It certainly would make things easier,” she said, turning her attention to the glass in her hand with a sigh.
He shook his head. “I’m sure your parents must be thrilled with the offer you already have.”
“Then again…” She shuddered.
“Haven’t you had enough of that?” he asked as she took another gulp from her glass.
Ski swallowed the wine hastily. She turned abruptly to look him in the eye. “Rune, have you ever been in love?” she asked.
He blinked, taken aback at finding himself now the topic of conversation and not certain he liked where it might be headed. “Once,” he said, slipping the glass from her fingers. He took a quick gulp and nearly choked as the liquid seared his throat,
“What are you drinking?” he said, hastily returning the glass to the table.
“Not sure.” She eyed what he had thought to be a wine bottle and its deep red contents. “Lyssa said it was good. Seems to be effective at any rate.”
Rune stared at her in disbelief. “Effective?” He shook his head. “What has gotten into you tonight?”
She let out a sigh and a nervous laugh. “This pressure to marry. I’m lonely now. If I tie myself to… to that. Don’t I get to be in love? I don’t even know if I know how. If I would miss it if it was right in front of me. What was it like… to be in love?”
“I… uh…” He took the glass and forced down another sip of the bitter drink.
Masakari sighed. “Not something you want to talk about?”
“No,” he said, struggling to push back the images that suddenly crowded his thoughts.
“Is that why you had to leave-”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, draining her glass.
He sat, staring uncomfortably at the empty glass in his hand. Ski broke the silence, “Don’t you tire of being alone?” She laid her hand over his, sending a chill up his spine that cut sharply through the flood of memories. Her hand, long accustomed to holding a sword, was strong as she closed her fingers firmly over his, yet her touch was warm and gentle. “Everyone seems to think… I mean, maybe we could…“ Her eyes were fixed on him. There was somehow something softer about their usually steely blue. The always composed sometimes warrior, sometimes elegant lady was uncharacteristically disheveled. Her hair had been nervously plucked from its careful styling to fall in a disorganized mass across her shoulders. The long skirt of her blue satin ball gown lay in a crumpled heap around her. She looked vulnerable, Rune thought, almost human. It was the alcohol, he reminded himself. This wasn’t really Ski. He shook his head, realizing he had been staring.
“It’s late,” he said, freeing his hand from hers. “And, if you don’t mind my saying so, you’ve had a bit too much to drink. You really should turn in.”
“But-”
“I’ll help you back to your room,” he offered, rising to his feet. “I don’t much like the thought of you trying to make it on your own.”
“Nonsense,” she said, pushing her own chair back from the table. She stood and would have fallen promptly to the floor had Rune not caught her.
“Let me go with you,” he said, tentatively releasing her. She teetered on her feet a moment and grabbed his arm to steady herself.
“Alright,” she conceded, unable to let go.
With Ski clinging to one of Rune’s arms for support, and his other hand against her back to guide her, the two made their way to the exit. The warmth of the fire and the crowd soon faded as they traversed the broad halls of the palace. Outside the range of the music, their footsteps reverberated off of the bare stone walls. Ski said nothing. She seemed to be focusing all her effort on simply remaining upright and allowed Rune to steer her along. Not wanting to distract her from the task of placing one shaky foot in front of the other, Rune kept quiet as well. More than once, she lost her balance and staggered, but Rune was always there to help her right herself before she fell.
Before long, they found themselves in the wing that held the guests’ quarters, navigating the maze of narrow corridors to the one off which their own rooms lay. Light seeping from the seams of one of the doors indicated that Farran had already returned to her chambers. The two paused in front of Ski’s door. Rune reached around Ski to push the door open and she let go of his arm, bracing herself instead on the doorframe. Standing without his aid for the first time, she turned to face him and the silence suddenly felt incredibly awkward.
“Will you be alright, then?” he asked, preparing to leave.
“I’ll manage,” she said, still clutching the doorframe.
“Well, goodnight, then.” He turned toward his own room.
“Rune, wait.” Her balance faltered as she took one hand from the wall to stop him. He reached out to catch her but her other hand lost its hold and she pitched forward, falling against him. Rune put his arms around her to help her stand. She made no move to separate herself from him, and Rune doubted he truly wanted to let her go. Another long silence passed between them.
Still holding onto Rune for support, Ski raised herself up on her toes. For one fleeting confused moment, he wondered if he ought to object, and then she kissed him. Her lips were soft and full, as, he had to admit, he imagined they would be, but her breath was thick and tasted strongly of alcohol. He returned her kiss and despised himself for enjoying it so much. He knew, were she sober, this would most certainly not be happening.
“Rune,” she said when they parted, and she ran her hand clumsily over his chest in what he assumed was meant to be a seductive gesture. “I know you’re as lonely as I am.” Her words slurred together.
“Ski.” He reached for her hand, which ceased its attention just long enough to elude his grasp.
“Lemme finish.” Her eyes caught his in a glassy stare. “We don’t have to be alone.” The look she gave the open door to her room was far from subtle.
“Ski,” he said again, firmly removing her roving hand. “Under different circumstances…”
With a strength surprising for one so inebriated, she pulled her hand from his grasp and caught hold of his wrist. She kissed him again soundly while pressing his hand over her own breast. She was soft and warm even through the thick gown, and his fingers curled around her before he fully realized what he was doing.
It took a great deal of control to pull himself away. “You’re drunk, Ski,” he said, fighting to keep his hands from shaking. Ski staggered back against the doorframe, her mouth still moving as she failed to find words to answer him. “Go. Sleep it off. In the morning… Well, maybe, if you’re lucky, you won’t even remember in the morning.”
“Rune,” she said, sliding slowly towards the floor. He wondered if she was clear enough to make it from the doorway to her bed and quickly told himself she would regret sleeping on the floor far less than anything she might try should he set foot inside her room.
“Goodnight, Ski,” he said. “I’ll be in my room if you want… I mean, if you need… Goodnight, Ski.”
He turned away, but, instead of crossing the hall to his own room, he headed for Farran’s door. Uncomfortably aware that Ski’s eyes were still on him, though she said nothing more, he rapped on the door. A moment later a somewhat dissheveled Farran, who had traded her ball gown for a silky green robe, answered.
“I think Ski could use your help,” he told her.
She glanced in the direction of Ski’s room, where she still sat slumped in the doorway, and grinned. Then she looked back at Rune and gave a sad shake of her head. “You sure?” she said.
Rune scowled at her. “Yes.”
Farran shrugged. “Goodnight, Rune,” she said, patting him on the shoulder.
“Goodnight,” he answered and headed for his own room. As he opened the door, he watched Farran half lead, half drag Masakari into her room.
Rune closed the door quietly behind him before discarding his bothersome formal clothes and slipping beneath the covers. Millie was already there, curled up on a pillow and snoring. He patted her head as he searched for a comfortable position on the overstuffed mattress and she responded with a sleepy purr.
He closed his eyes and wondered, as he drifted off to sleep, what, if anything, Ski would think of all this come morning.