Work Text:
Alanna of Trebond and Olau, Baroness of Pirate’s Swoop, King’s Champion of Tortall, hummed off-key as she gathered wood for a fire. Daine half-watched from beneath her lashes, checking the woman’s mood. All day long Alanna had been unnaturally cheerful and quick to smile. It’s hardly unreasonable, the girl thought as they worked in companionable silence to settle their camp and prepare dinner. The evening was warm and clear, and the weight of battle was finally beginning to lift from their shoulders. The last two weeks had felt endless, as they had all shared the burden of grieving and mopping up the lingering violence that came with the end of the war. The task of putting the kingdom back together lay ahead of them, but it was a kingdom with a semblance of peace after years of fighting. Alanna had new lines around her violet eyes, but in the last few days Daine had seen her straighten in the saddle, shedding years and griefs. There would be other wars to fight, but for now her home and her family waited for her just a day’s ride away at Pirate’s Swoop.
To Diane, the exhaustion and loss of the war had been tempered by the sheer unreality of her adventures. She had talked with gods as if they were human and treated with dragons. She had played a role in events that she barely understood, but her role had clearly been a signifiant one. Already people had begun to refer to her as “the Wildmage,” a title she greeted with the grimace it deserved. Amidst all of the madness and the unreality, there also sat one new, overwhelming, and foundation-shaking fact: she was in love.
She and Numair had fallen into their new relationship with an ease that had startled her. They had been so close for so many years that very little changed, and yet everything felt different. They had found only a handful of days to spend together since returning, and those days were usually spent in public, where they maintained the outward appearance of friendship and tried to focus on the tasks at hand. Only in rare moments away from prying eyes could he lean his long body against her, or set a warm hand on hers as they talked quietly over a table. They had always been tactile, but now a new wall came up between them in public as they tried to arrest their bodies’ drifts towards one another. A week ago she had found herself exhausted and tense, growling at a holster over the quality of his work, when she had felt the press of a warm hand against her hip. She had jumped and spun, but found no one at her side. Instead, Numair stood in the doorway with a warmth in his eyes, the smallest glimmer of his gift flowing around his hand. Afterwards he did it often, stroking her cheek or running long fingers along her neck under her hair. It made her shake like a sparrow.
Numair spent the nights acting as if he had settled his concerns over the difference in their ages, but she could feel his reticence to face public criticism. They had parted two days earlier, with a pact that he would finally tell the king while she would speak to Alanna; from there, they could work their way through the rest of their close friends and confidants. Onua was at Pirate’s Swoop, and Daine was, if anything, even more concerned about her reaction, but she knew that she could at least trust the horsemaster to give a considered response. She was not at all certain that she could say the same for Alanna. The Lioness’s temper was both a legend, and, as Daine knew from experience, a fact.
After dinner, Daine walked to a nearby stream and rinsed their dishes as she chatted with a family of raccoons. She returned to their camp to find that Alanna had laid out the bedrolls and was beginning to walk a ward around their camp.
When she finished, she joined Daine by the fire. “They’re set — if you need the latrine in the night, it should recognize you and let you back in.”
Daine raised her eyebrows at that. It was an elaborate bit of magic for travel in safe country, and both women often traveled alone with only basic sentry wards. “Are you expecting trouble?”
Alanna pulled a flask from her saddlebag and settled on her bedroll in a cross-legged sit. “No.” She took a good-sized swig from the flask and held it out to Daine with a suppressed smile. “But I don’t know how well you hold your liquor, youngling.”
Daine stared at her for a moment before reaching for it. “What’s the occasion?”
Alanna looked up into the treetops with a long-suffering sigh. “Only that I’m tired of watching you dance around whatever it is you’ve been wanting to tell me.”
Daine coughed and choked on the firey liquid. When she caught her breath again, she got to her knees and looked at the Lioness with narrowed eyes. “Truth drops?”
Alanna chuckled. “I hardly think you’re that tough a nut to crack. Besides, I just had some. It’s no more a truth-telling magic than liquor always is.”
Daine thought for a moment, then took a long swallow. She needed all the courage she could get. “How could you tell?”
“I married a man who spins lies for a living. You learn things.”
Daine settled onto her bedroll, pulling her knees to her chest and making herself smaller. A hedgehog trundled out of the woods, followed by a marmot; they curled up against her back, away from the fire. The prickly animal was careful not to hurt her. She was grateful for their silent encouragement, and for the warmth that slowly spread in her belly as the two women silently handed the flask back and forth and the evening cooled.
“Daine,” the knight finally said, gently, as dusk faded to black outside the circle of their camp, “I’m your friend. I’ve trusted you with my life and the lives of my family more often than I can count. You’ve trusted me before and I know you’ll trust me again, when it’s time. I wouldn’t drug you. I just thought some Tyran courage might make this easier, that’s all.”
The girl took a deep breath, then let it out again. She was a little dizzy, and the drink was making her hands tingle pleasantly. She owed this woman the truth, this woman who had been a tireless friend to both her and Numair, who had worked hard to give them both a home and a place in the world.
“I know you saw some things,” Alanna murmured, “I have too, in my time. Whatever happened…”
Daine, startled, looked up into the woman’s violet eyes. “Oh gods, it’s nothing like that!” she said. “It’s…” The hedgehog shifted, gently pricking her lower back. She jumped, and scowled back at him. Fine! She told him silently, I’m telling her! She looked back up and met Alanna’s eyes, and all in one breath she pushed it out. “It’s Numair. We’re… involved.” She waved her hands awkwardly, not looking at her friend. “In love.”
The King’s Champion of Tortall gave a deeply undignified snort and settled back into her slouch. “So you both finally figured it out.” Cloud gave a short wicker from beyond the campfire’s glow that sounded remarkably like a laugh.
Daine sat, unmoving, until the hedgehog nudged her again. If you do that again I will toss you out through the wards, she told him fiercely, half her attention still on the woman who was engaged in taking another long gulp from the flask. “You knew?!” she finally squeaked, her voice as accusatory as she could manage.
“I told you,” Alanna replied, distain in her voice, “I married the Rogue.”
Daine clamored to her feet, and found that that she was a little less steady than she expected. She looked down at Alanna, somehow still feeling very small. The knight looked up at her calmly, an expression Daine couldn’t quite read gathering at the corner of her eyes. “Wait, you aren’t angry?”
Alanna chuckled darkly. “Sit down, Daine.” The girl did, a little harder than she intended, and Alanna leaned in and said solemnly, “I don’t see where I would get the right to pass judgement on your love-life.”
“You have opinions.” Daine scowled, then, belatedly: “You knew?”
“You two have obviously loved each other as friends for years. It’s hardly surprising that it would go this way eventually.”
“But the age gap—“
Alanna sighed, and the amusement went out of her voice. “It’s a challenge,” she said seriously. “If I didn’t know Numair so well, I’d tell you to watch your back. But then, if this was all fun and bed games, it wouldn’t actually matter as much.” She leaned back on her elbows and looked into the fire. “You mean love, I take it.”
Daine reached for the flask, nodded, and then said in a small voice, “He asked me to marry him.”
Alanna truly scowled at that. “What did you say?”
“Perhaps, someday.”
Alanna nodded firmly. “You’re young, Daine. No, don’t protest, you are. That’s the whole reason you danced around this for days or…” she squinted at Daine.
“Weeks.”
“Weeks. It’s a significant difference in experience, and you should be in no sort of hurry to settle down.”
“I know.”
“I would hope so. Love’s fair wonderful, Daine, and gods know we don’t always get enough life to make the most of it. But take your time makin' promises.” Her voice had begun to lilt on certain words, and Daine wondered if her she too was starting to feel the liquor. “He won’t press the matter,” Alanna added darkly, and the girl shuddered on Numair’s behalf.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, staring into the flames. Alanna finally grumbled, “Well, you two have been through more together than most folks see in a lifetime of marriage.”
Daine gave a small laugh at that, and felt herself begin to truly relax for the first time. “It won’t play well in the court rumor mill.”
Alanna waved her arm in an gesture that splashed a little liquor into the fire. “The goodhearted will come around, and the petty have been saying you were lovers for years.”
“We weren’t!”
Alanna smirked into the fire. “But you’ve bedded him now, haven’t you?” The girl gave a small gasp. “Oh, come on. Men talk like that all the time, and they aren’t the only ones to enjoy lovemaking.”
Daine was silent, but the liquor in her blood made her want to tell. She fought it down. The Lioness was her friend, but she was also a married woman and a noble. This wasn’t like talking sex with her Rider friends.
Alanna sighed heavily. “Like pulling dragons’ teeth,” she muttered. In a louder voice she said, “You’re a midwife’s daughter, so I can assume you dealt with pregnancy concerns?”
Daine was about to protest, but instead she burst out laughing. “Numair wanted to… to come up with something, and spent two days he didn’t have in the library, before I got tired of waiting and went to a midwife.” Alanna started to laugh too, and the girl went on, “Any hedgewitch can do the charm, and it took the most powerful mage in Tortall two days to come up with the most terrible…” she broke down again. “Men!”
Alanna shifted on her bedroll until she was lying on her side, head propped up on one arm. “I’m getting too old for this much drink,” the woman complained, and Daine stuck her tongue out at her.
“This was your idea.”
“Yes, well, I thought you had something terrible and traumatic to share. Not… tumbling news. No,” she groaned, “Stop blushing like that. Honestly, Daine, it’s only sex.”
“I’m okay with sex,” the girl protested, “I’m just not used to talking to the King’s Champion about it.”
Alanna chuckled, and borrowed her husband’s crooked smile and accent for a moment. “Don’t let the armor fool ye, lass. I’m a woman too, and been one longer'n you."
Daine really did blush at that, and looked away.
“I wasn’t a shy maiden for George, you know,” Alanna said, an thick edge of amusement in her voice. “Honestly, I’m glad for it — I had to learn some things about myself before I could square them with him. And, of course, he was hardly a clumsy lad.”
Daine smiled at that.
“Maybe you two are a good match, and maybe in the end you’ll find that you aren’t. That’s okay, Daine. A lot of us have things we want… in love, in bed. If the things you want and the things he wants fit, it can be… fun.”
Daine paused for a moment, summoning the courage of all that liquor, before she said lightly, “You and your lord seem to fit.”
Alanna smiled. “I like to be matched, and, well… if I’m honest, there aren’t many men who can do that.” She looked into the fire, eyes going distant. “But I also needed someone who saw me as a well and true equal when the games were over. I was lucky in my men — all of them could, one way or another. I loved Jon, you know, but he had a real power over me that never let us work together in the end.” She looked at Daine with a twinkle in her purple eyes. “He’s a much better king to me than he ever was a lover.”
“That Jon?” squeaked Daine, and promptly lost control of her shape and turned into a swan.
Alanna broke in half with laughter as the girl worked to slowly and awkwardly turn herself human again, easing feathered limbs into her clothes. By the time she was shaking feathers from her tunic, the knight mostly had herself under control. “Gods,” Daine muttered, “I haven’t had that much trouble with forms in years.”
“I’m sorry,” Alanna said, entirely unapologetic.
Daine scowled at her, and decided to get even. “Well? Who else?”
“The Shang Dragon. He could beat me in a fair fight.”
Daine whistled with respect. “Understandably.” Then she looked at Alanna, and raised an eyebrow. “But George can’t.”
The Lioness grinned, and it wasn’t a nice grin. “George cheats.”