guardiansverse | Ghosts of the Borderland Outtake: Part 2

Now they were alone, and he could look her over. She was stirring and picking at her soup, only now and then taking a spoonful that made a brief glow of bliss light up her face. After every such sip her lips pursed with reproach at her own slip, the spoon in her hand sketched another circle. He was almost to the point of pulling the bowl away from right under her nose - he could eat three more of the kind, and he liked the thought of her puffing up in outrage - when a young soldier came hurrying into the room. One of Ranna's girl-trainees. Amika all but sprung to her feet, and barely contained an unladylike wobble.

"Is there news?"

"Frowe Stattenholme." The girl wavered between a curtsy and a salute. "My Land's Own sends to say, she has word from Hyem. The army stands down. She will come to see you soon -"

"At her pleasure." Amika waved a hand to dismiss all care on the point. Her eyes were on the girl's face, wide, fierce. "The army stands down? You are certain?"

"Certain. Your sign was accepted. The peace holds."

If she'd expected Amika to jump for joy, it was not to be. Instead the news seemed to take every bit of remaining strength out of her body, as unspeakable tension snapped and melted away. It was all that had been holding her upright. She sagged back into her chair, face in her hands, trembling all over with her relief.

"Good," she murmured. "Good. It's done, it is... " she pulled herself up, however slow and wilted an up, for the sake of the soldier girl who hovered over her in white faced anxiety. Somewhere she found a smile as well. "It is all well. Tell her - thank her for me, if you would, tell her I am at her service whenever she requires it of me. Of both of us."

Saul thought to protest - the idea of being sent back out to the cold in the cause of peace, when war had been the only joy he'd hoped to have of the entire affair, sat very sourly with him - but waited until the girl was gone, and after, he could not catch Amika's attention. She was now wholly invested in the soup. With every swallow, her posture fell just a little further and the lines of her face grew just a little less tight. He watched her eyelids grow weighed and wondered what he would do if she fell asleep with her hair in the bowl.

In the borderland she had been coiled around a stunning power, and the charge that moved it; now he watched her uncoil, unravel, loosen into warmth and safety and the knowledge that her charge was laid down. And he realized he was doing the same, felt it as an unanticipated glimmer throughout the body: as though her embrace of her exhaustion gave him more leave to sink into his than her order could have.

Another sound at the door. From the corner of his eye he saw Ranna Vandavern enter. Schervo's Land's Own looked calm, satisfied, until she caught sight of the two of them: the Land's Own of Hyem and the Rogue Guardian, frozen and grimy and tired beyond description, sniffling over the too-hastily drained bowls of her pungent, wonderful soup.

"Look at you," she said, flatly, as though she had just realized her own situation. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

Amika opened her mouth to no doubt be diplomatic. Then she said, "to begin with, perhaps a bath...?"

Saul would have laughed anyhow, but in his present state it came out longer and looser. Ranna half-flinched. He saw her look from Amika to him and back again, an odd look, dense with questions. But all she said was, “yes, I can smell that need.”

Amika bristled at that, just a touch, though Saul thought it fair – and likely true, though really he couldn’t tell. “I’ve arranged for lodgings for you,” Ranna continued. “Not much, but they’ll do, and they’ve been prepared. But if you send your captain there and come with me, Amika – “

“Yes.” Amika climbed to her feet, bracing herself just a touch on the table. “We have many things to discuss…” she trailed off and blinked, heavy-lidded and lost, as Ranna’s look of surprise.

“Actually, I meant to suggest that you come take your bath in the house where I’m staying myself,” Schervo’s Land’s Own said slowly. “If you wish. We can talk tomorrow. There’s no hurry, now the message is through. We know there will not be war.”

Amika hesitated just another moment – a long dazed moment, as though still learning to conceive that there will not be war. Then she breathed out and her face slackened, and now she looked overwhelmed, as if the thought of a proper bath in a proper house with attendants eager to lend a hand to her comfort was a dream too good to entertain. “Yes.” Her voice was airy with amazement. “Yes, I would like that very much. Thank you.” She breathed in again and couldn’t quite steady herself. “Thank you.”

Ranna said no more, only gestured for her sister-Guardian to follow her, then went right back out the door. They could hear her talking with her soldiers outside, take the Rogue Guardian to the house, and don’t be fooled – however he looks, he’s still every bit as dangerous. When she pinned him with a glare he grinned at her, as he did, but to Amika's echoing look he waved her on, a broad, unfocused gesture.

“Go on, doma. I’m sure we’ll get along, these fellows and me.”

“I’m sure you will.” There, that touch of amusement again. “If you trouble my peace now, Captain..."

There was nothing she could possibly threaten him with. But he inclined his head, said, “not until after a bath,” and watched her let herself be serenely led away.

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