On the Road to Roville

[For Sidalee Maloué]

They were halfway into their travel from Mont Daegal to Rodale. He'd brought the oldest 3 of his 5 children. Aleera who was 16, Bellamy who was 14, and Cezar who was 11. He had debated on whether or not to bring Cezar as he was still a little young. He would have liked to wait til he was 12 at least but decided that it would be a show of good faith to trust the Roville Marshal if he brought the young lad.

Night had fallen and camp had been made for the night. The children were asleep and two other guards had accompanied them as well. One of which was standing guard at the entrance of their tent. The other was taking their turn for rest. Grym had left behind his Warlord in his stead while he was away. A banneret and their troop of about 30 were following a few miles behind them. They would stay just outside the city limits when they arrived, awaiting a signal for them to enter if the need arouse. Bastian truly hoped that wouldn't be necessary but one couldn't be too careful.

Grym wasn't sure where Sidalee was at the moment as he sat by the fire alone, staring into the crackling flames, the color of which reminded him of her wild curls. He was casually carving at a piece of wood with his dagger but it was only to give his hands something to do.

Sidalee stood just outside the ring of firelight, tending to her horse and watching Bastian with an amused glint in her eyes. He was quiet tonight, more so than usual, and she could sense the weight of his thoughts as he appeared to carve absentmindedly at the piece of wood in his hands. She hadn’t missed the way his gaze flickered to the flames, and she had an idea of exactly what—or who—he was thinking about.

Sidalee was always careful to keep her distance when needed, but tonight felt different. They had already covered a great distance, and with the children asleep, this was likely the calmest moment they’d have until they reached Rodale. She stepped into the firelight, her movements deliberate and unhurried, letting the soft crunch of her boots on the dirt announce her presence.

“Marshal,” She greeted, her voice soft but carrying in the quiet night. She crouched beside him, close enough to share in the warmth of the fire but not so close as to crowd him. Her sharp eyes flicked to the dagger in his hand, the wood slowly taking shape. “Didn’t take you for a man with a talent for carving.”

A small smile played on her lips as she settled beside him, her own hands resting idly on her knees. She had always appreciated the silence between them, the easy understanding that didn’t need words. But she couldn’t ignore the tension that hung in the air. Whether it was the journey ahead, the responsibility of his children, or something else entirely, she knew Grym well enough to sense when something weighed on him.

She leaned back slightly, letting the firelight dance in her green eyes as she glanced toward him. “You’re awfully quiet tonight. Not often you’re this far from home with your brood in tow. Something on your mind?”

There was no teasing in her tone, just genuine curiosity. Sidalee wasn’t here to pry, but she had played at being his personal guard long enough to know when the Marshal needed someone to speak with, even if he wouldn’t admit it outright. And if he didn’t? Well, she could sit by the fire in silence too, sharing the warmth and the flicker of companionship in the quiet night.

Grym looked up from his carving as he heard her footsteps approaching and the sound of her voice calling him by his title. He was sure that she had made noise with her steps intentionally to announce her presence. He had seen exactly how quiet she could be when it was required of her. Quiet as a mouse, a ghost, a shadow, a wraith. He moved the piece of wood he was carving so she could see it better. "I wouldn't call it a talent," he said. It was beginning to look like some sort of four legged animal but it was impossible to tell what it was meant to be just yet. He had been carving little things like this and giving them to his children for years but they weren't exactly 'pretty'.

Her presence was distracted and he was all too aware of her as he watched her warm herself by the fire as she settled in beside him. The smell of her soap caught on a small breeze that invaded his senses in an instant. He was far too pent up right now to be able to think clearly about the woman beside him. It probably wasn't the best idea to be alone with her but he didn't move. He enjoyed her company too much. And for more than just how beautiful and alluring she was.

He sighed thoughtfully at her question before responding. "I don't trust Uzmat's motives. Surely he has something up his sleeve and I can only hope it's a political play and not a physical one. It is a show of good faith to bring my children but it's a risk too. Am I a terrible father for bringing them along?"

Of course she could have approached without a sound, Sidalee wasn’t a careless assassin, and moving with minimal sound was one of the first things she had mastered. Well, aside from throwing knives. After all, that was definitely the skill that caught the attention of her Marshal before she was approached with the offer to become an assassin. But she had no need to sneak up on Grym, plus… she wanted him to know she was there. Even if she could tell her presence proved to be a bit of a distraction.

Hopefully a pleasant one.

“I mean, there are less productive ways to keep one’s hands busy.” She said with a teasing grin, knowing exactly where her mind took such words, but not willing to assume the same for Grym. Her hands were usually busy flipping a blade, if she was sitting still, and if she was alone and had privacy, they might have been teasing her own body. But right now, she simply strummed them against her thighs while those green eyes watched the piece of wood in his hand taking rough shape. “It’s much better than I could manage.” She offered with a smile, shrugging her shoulders.

Of course, there must have been more to Marshal Ricman’s invitation, but Sidalee could only offer pure speculation. And as much as she might have wanted to lighten his mood and make a joke, his more serious inquiry made her immediately shake her head and turn to face him more directly, reaching for his hands. “Hey, I’ll hear none of that.” She shook her head and continued. “Take it from someone who has a terrible father; you are an amazing father. Your children have known such love and comfort, and even get the opportunity to travel and learn the politics of the land.” Her tone was soft and carried something that wasn’t often there with her.

“There will always be dangers present and risks to be handled; but you… you’re children adore you. The same couldn’t be said of a ‘terrible father’. Your heart is heavy because you care and wish to keep them safe, and I know every one of your soldiers is willing to give their lives to ensure the safety of your family… just as I would give my life for you.” She released his hands and offered a playful grin. “I wouldn’t pledge my life to someone terrible, so if you wish to insult yourself; just know you’re also insulting me.” Sidalee hadn’t intended to behave quite so, familiar, but she didn’t like hearing him speak of himself like that. Not when she had a body covered in scars from a father who claimed to love her but put her through torture because of her attachments to another woman. And then she lost her forever. So all those scars, were simply a reminder of her father’s cruelty, and the reason for her preference of not seeking out familiar company. A fling didn’t ask about scars or care, unlike those who might actually know her.

Grym almost didn't catch her little innuendo but he happened to glance up in time to see her teasing grin and he chuckled, eyes sparkling with heated amusement. He didn't agree that such activities were 'unproductive', there were plenty of benefits after all, but he didn't linger on that topic of conversation while he mind was heavy with other things.

He was surprised when she suddenly took his hands but her green eyes and her serious tone were so captivating that he didn't make a move to try to slip away from her hold. His eyes never left hers as she spoke. She was specific about her own experience but he had a strong feeling that she knew what a bad father was and why did that thought make him instantly angry. Just as she was loyal in protecting him, he found he wanted to do the same for her, though he knew she didn't need such a thing. At least not physically.

Her words meant a lot to him though and did well at calming his guilt about the situation. "Well...I wouldn't dare insult you, so I suppose I better stop thinking that way," he said with a quirk of a smile. He set down the half finished carving and reached for a flask he kept at his side. "Care for a drink?" he offered it to her first. "It's a rather strong rum," just so she wouldn't be surprised.

Sidalee’s grin widened as Grym chuckled, pleased to have drawn that rare spark of amusement from him. The seriousness of the journey and the weight on his mind had been evident, and while she enjoyed their playful banter, she knew when to shift gears. Her grip on his hands had been a deliberate move, a way to ground him in the present and remind him that he wasn’t facing this burden alone.

When he offered her the flask, she raised an eyebrow, amused at his attempt to lighten the mood. “Strong rum, hmm? I like the sound of that,” She said with a smirk, taking the flask from his hand. She lifted it to her lips, taking a long pull of the drink, the warmth of the liquor spreading through her as she handed it back to him.

Sidalee wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her emerald eyes sparkling with a mixture of mischief and sincerity. “Not bad,” She remarked with approval, her tone playful. “I’ve had worse, but this’ll do for now.”

Her expression softened as she looked at him, the earlier seriousness returning. “You know, Grym, you’ve got nothing to prove to anyone.” Her voice was quieter now, more intimate as if the crackling fire between them wasn’t enough to drown out the intensity of her words. “You’re doing right by your kids. And by the rest of us, too. So stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. You’ve got people willing to carry it with you.”

She let the silence settle for a moment before adding with a smirk, “Besides, I’m not about to let you get all broody and solemn on me. You’re more fun when you smile.” And with that she gave her shoulder a gentle nudge.

Her teasing tone returned, but there was no mistaking the genuine care behind her words. She respected him more than she let on, and if this rum and a bit of banter could ease his mind, then she’d happily continue the conversation. “So,” She leaned back slightly, still watching him with interest. “You wouldn’t have made the decision to come if you weren’t interested in at least hearing him, what do you think he might be proposing?” Sidalee didn’t typically involve herself with the politics at play. She was more of the type to be pointed in the direction of someone you needed gone; and she’d eliminate them. Politics got complicated… and she just didn’t care for complicated.

He didn't take his eyes off of her as she took the flask and took a drink. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. He grinned at her playful nature and when he took the flask back he took another long drink himself. It seemed like as good a night as any to get at least a little buzzed. Maybe it would at least help him relax enough to get a good nights rest without worrying so much. "Well maybe we'll have to get you something better soon," he said with a grin.

Her tone grew more serious again and he felt her words pulling at his soul. The fire crackled, reflecting in her eyes. He certainly felt like he had a lot to prove. He was their leader and that meant something to him. It meant more than just the pride of holding power. It was a responsibility to do right by your people, to make their lives better and safer, that was a lot of pressure on one man but it was something he took very seriously. So he didn't necessarily agree that he 'had nothing to prove to anyone' but it was her next words that really solidified what she was saying. He didn't have to do this alone. He had people he could count on to help and he really ought to start allowing them to do so. She was here after all, willing to help him on this journey and several times before. She was one of the few people he felt he could not only trust but actually depend on.

He looked from her and back into the fire thoughtfully as he mulled over her words and then she broke the silence with another lighthearted comment and a bump to his shoulder and it worked to shake him from his reverie. He chuckled and nudged his elbow against her side. "Thank you, Sidalee. Truly. I'm- I'm very grateful for you. It's what I needed to hear." He took another drink and offered her the flask again but looked around as if he might spot something else for her to drink. "We really can find you something better if you want," he said.

He stood up to stretch and then moved to stoke the fire as she asked her question. Adjusting the logs and adding in a couple more he talked while he worked. "I have a few ideas, each assuming that it's not just some ploy to get rid of me and take over Mont Daegal, which is certainly not impossible either. My best guess is that he's hoping to unite the two of us somehow, combining our territories and power. Or perhaps he wants my help to take over Clago. Their Marshal has been too quiet for too long, making them look like easy prey. In his letter he explained this as 'an olive branch of peace'. But I can't imagine that the only thing he wants is to get all buddy buddy."

He stood again and moved back towards her but didn't sit down yet, instead he stood over her, looking down at her as the orange of the fire made her skin and hair look warm and glowing and fierce. "About that drink," he said with a little grin. "Shall we find something else for you?"

Sidalee watched Grym carefully as he spoke, her playful smirk softening into something more thoughtful. She could see the weight of his position pressing on him, could feel the tension in the way he moved and spoke. The chuckle, the nudge—they were good signs. They were small victories in lightening the load, even if just for a moment.

When he thanked her, something warm flickered in her chest, a quiet satisfaction that she rarely allowed herself to feel. His gratitude meant more to her than she’d care to admit. "Anytime, Grym," She replied with a slight nod, her voice low but steady. "That’s what I’m here for."

As he stood to tend the fire, she leaned back on her hands, watching him through the dancing flames, listening to his thoughts on the situation they were walking into. It didn’t surprise her that there could be ulterior motives. Power, land, influence—those were always the real goals in politics. The idea of being used as a pawn in someone else's game made her blood simmer, but she trusted Grym to see through any schemes.

"An olive branch of peace," She repeated, a note of sarcasm creeping into her voice. "How generous of him." Her green eyes met his as he returned to her, standing over her now, casting a long shadow against the firelight. She tilted her head up at him, lips twitching into a small grin at the way he stood, all commanding presence and rugged warmth. The combination was always striking.

At his suggestion about the drink, Sidalee laughed softly, her eyes glinting with amusement. "You’re spoiling me now, Grym," She teased, rising to her feet in one smooth motion to stand before him. Even at her 5’7”, he still had a good half a foot on her, so she still had to look up at him. "But sure, let’s find something better." She brushed a strand of curly red hair behind her ear and looked toward the nearby supplies. "I’ll take whatever you think will help us get through this night."

Her grin widened, and she bumped her shoulder lightly against his chest as she turned to walk. "And who knows? Maybe a little more rum will loosen your tongue about what else is on your mind." She threw him a sidelong glance, her teasing nature never far, but there was an undercurrent of sincerity. Sidalee was here, not just for the journey, but for whatever he needed. ”After all, you’ve got me at your disposal."

Grym had to admit, if only to himself, that standing over her like this felt...invigorating. The way her green eyes looked at him...the light from the fire was currently blocked by his shadow but it didn't make them any less bright. She was a very talented artist when it came to the art of the tease and even if teasing was all it was, he was still enjoying it. He'd been so busy and distracted lately that he hadn't made time for himself in that way in far too long really.

"No no no, I offered the rum and that wasn't up your alley. Tell me what you want, Sidalee, and I will give it to you..." Assuming they had brought it on their journey of course, but that was obvious and didn't need to be stated. He took another long drink of his rum, the warmth of the alcohol trickling slowly down his torso into his belly. It was a comfortable kind of feeling, if a little strong. But he'd never minded strong. He preferred it actually.

Her shoulder bumped him again as she moved, this time against his chest and as she stepped out of his shadow the firelight caught her hair and made it almost look like it was on fire itself. She looked stunning in the firelight, anyone who didn't notice would be a fool.

Sidalee’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she stepped out of Grym’s shadow, the fire casting a warm glow over her. She could feel the tension in the air, the way his gaze lingered, the way his words had a subtle edge of something deeper than just friendly conversation. And she didn’t mind it. In fact, she thrived on it.

“What I want?” she echoed, her tone playful, yet edged with something that hinted at more. Her gaze locked with his, unflinching, bold. “That’s a dangerous offer, Grym.” She took a step closer, just enough to feel the faint heat of his body in the cool night air. She tilted her head, letting her hair catch the firelight again as it spilled over her shoulder.

“But since you insist…” She let her voice drop lower, more intimate, as if she were letting him in on a secret. “I want a drink that won’t burn like fire on the way down.” Her lips curved into a small smile, her green eyes not breaking from his. “Something smooth… something I can savor.” She paused, then added with a wink, “And maybe a little company to go with it.” There was nothing wrong with a good, strong drink, those were her favorites most nights! But Sidalee liked to keep her mind sharp, especially while traveling, and it would be better for her to keep her wits about her around Grym. She didn’t need to embarrass herself.

Right?

But, Sidalee was testing the waters, pushing the boundaries just enough to see how far she could take it. She’d always enjoyed playing with fire, and right now, Grym was giving her the perfect opportunity to fan the flames.

REIST GRYM

RODALE | MOUNT DAEGAL | KNIGHT

Application | Tracker | Plotter | Adoptables

"Looks like the two of you are getting along well," smirked Reist as he rode up to the campsite on his dark horse, Mercutio. He'd been sent from the banneret trailing his brother's party to check how things were going and report back any news if necessary. He'd been wondering if there was something going on between his brother and the fiery-haired banneret, and seeing him standing over her in such close proximity all but confirmed his suspicions.

Reist nodded at the guard on duty, who had tensed at his presence but now acknowledged him as a messenger. A messenger. Reist knew his superiors found him immature, but delivering messages was hardly the duty of a knight. He decided he'd just chalk it up to being the Marshal's brother and nothing more.

He slid off his horse and tethered him next to the others before sauntering over to the pair. "Lady Sidalee, Bastian," he said, dipping his head at each of them in turn with a smirk still firmly etched on his face. "Banneret's orders. You let me know if there's anything worth reporting back while I," he grabbed the flask of rum from his brother, "take a sip of this."

201 words, Bastian Grym & Sidalee Maloué

template by punki of adoxography