by Vi Voxley
Until she roused, he simply watched her sleep, peaceful in a way a warrior was seldom seen by someone other than their fated. She looked gentle and happy, as she sometimes was during unguarded moments. He couldn’t help wondering what it had been that had set her future on a warrior’s path. All Brion children were evaluated to determine the best possible career for them from a very young age.
Most of the warriors he knew showed clear signs of bloodlust, at least to some extent, but he’d never actually noticed that in Deliya. She was a formidable warrior, true, but not a vicious one. It was especially hard to believe at that moment, looking at her dark curls messed up on the pillow, her breathing calm and quiet.
He couldn’t believe he had to leave at some point.
When Deliya finally awoke, Darien knew his time with her was almost up.
The first look she sent him was one of regret, mirrored on his own no doubt. So she also felt some remorse about it. That was some consolation, at least.
“You would tell me, right?” Deliya said.
Darien glared, for the first time, at her in all honesty.
“I’m putting this down to you desperately wanting me and not as a horrible insult,” he said.
The Brion fated – the gesha and the gerion – were sacred to their people. Since only the men ever got the recognizing moment, it was their task to inform the gesha. Some of such confessions went better than others, but to suggest he’d hide something as tremendous as that was beyond his ability to comprehend. How could he not tell someone they were fated to be with him until the darkness took one of them?
He’d expected Deliya to frown back and offer some further teasing comment, but to his utter and mortifying surprise, she simply nodded.
“It just feels… real, somehow,” she said. “I don’t know. At first I thought I just wanted you. Then I thought I liked you too, sort of.”
He had to laugh at that, she was simply asking for it. When she didn’t join in he became serious again.
“But,” Deliya continued, “then it started to feel so natural, so right. Like I’ve heard the others talk of their fated. So forgive me for asking.”
“I would tell you,” was all Darien could think of saying.
The problem was he felt the same way. Being with her, it felt as though that was how it was meant to be. And the way their bodies fit so perfectly together, it had to be a sign of something, right? He didn’t know. All he knew was that he didn’t know it for a fact, and if he wasn’t sure, then it wasn’t so. That was what they’d been taught.
They got dressed in heavy silence. Darien thought whether the same doubts and regrets plagued Deliya. Maybe it would have been better if he’d just avoided her, like she had tried. Something called them together, but if it wasn’t the sacred bond, then it wasn’t something to pursue any further or one or both of them would end up terribly hurt.
A part of him had already known the day before, he felt. Had known it was better to dream of something and only feel the pain of never getting it than having a taste and being forced to let it go.
“I had better go,” he said, sounding miserable when he had been trying to sound cheerful. “I think I’d better tell someone I still exist on this ship and haven’t been lost to the great dark.”
Deliya smiled, but it was a mere shadow of her true smile as well.
He left with a heavy heart. Back in his room, it seemed empty against all reason, although he had moved nothing there. He didn’t have far to look for an answer. Something inside him ached for Deliya and felt alone without her.
Darien was seriously beginning to think there was something wrong with him. The Brions didn’t work that way as far as he knew. They were either bound or they were not, it wasn’t like them to long for someone so utterly without it being their fated.
He went to Urenya, as everyone aboard the Triumphant did when they felt out of order somehow.
He found the healer in the medical bay, no surprises there.
She barely looked up from her work as he entered, completely focused on her duties as usual. Darien knew better than to think that meant she wasn’t interested in helping him or wasn’t being attentive. Urenya simply had an amazing ability to multitask, and no one questioned her methods, not even the commander, who considered her one of his closest companions.
“I was told none of the chosen were injured too gravely in the battle,” Urenya said. “Or, at least, none I could do anything for.”
“I wasn’t injured, no,” Darien said, unsure of where to begin.
“Good to hear,” Urenya said. “So what brings you to me?”
Darien considered how to phrase what bothered him. Several ideas popped into his mind, but none seemed sufficient for all he wanted answers to.
“Deliya,” he finally said.
“Oh,” Urenya nodded, as though that truly did explain everything. “Diego mentioned I might expect this.”
Darien was too baffled by that to give much thought to the fact she referred to the commander so casually.
“The commander said –” he began, but he had absolutely no idea what their general might have told the healer. “What did he say?”
“That you and Deliya were a possible match in the making,” Urenya replied calmly.
“I take from the fact you’re not beaming brighter than your valor squares that didn’t happen.”
“No,” he said. “But…”
Now Urenya looked up, giving him her entire focus. For some reason, that was eerie. Urenya was famous for almost always knowing something so deep about a person they themselves didn’t even know it yet. Being under her scrutiny was somehow more terrifying than facing a powerful enemy.
“There are usually no ‘but’s with a binding,” the healer said.
“I know,” Darien said.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Deliya and I seem to fit together so perfectly, everything just feels natural. Talking to her, being with her, fighting beside her… And when I’m away from her, I feel empty. Incomplete, somehow. Tell me those aren’t the signs of a fated.”
“They are,” Urenya agreed.
“But I didn’t have the moment. I hoped when we fought together, when I saw her in danger it might provoke the bond to happen.”
Urenya frowned. “Many men have tried that. That’s just wishful thinking.”
“But it has worked, hasn’t it?”
“On occasions. Not a rule,” Urenya said. “Why are you so sure it’s her?”
“I…” Darien hesitated.
“Everything I’ve ever read or heard about the binding. They were all just words to me until I met Deliya. Then I suddenly understood, but the thing itself didn’t happen. I don’t understand.”
Urenya said nothing for a long moment.
“The timing is not always right,” she said at last.
“What do you mean?” Darien asked.
“We think the binding usually happens as soon as the gerion sees the gesha. That’s not always so. Fate has its plans and they are a mystery to us. Sometimes the people who end up together have to grow a bit as individuals before, or one of them has to do something alone before the bond could work. They aren’t many, but there are occasions where people who’ve known each other for years suddenly bond. That is all I can give you.”
It felt like a weight off his heart. It wasn’t entirely impossible that Deliya was meant for him. It might have been that fate simply hadn’t gotten to them yet.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Be careful,” Urenya said.
“Don’t confuse hope for the real thing.”
He took a deep breath.
“You know these things better than anyone. Do you think I’m wrong to trust this?”
Don’t say yes.
Urenya snorted.
“No,” she said, smiling, “I don’t.”
Darien left breathing anew. It was not in a Brion’s nature to brood and despair. In hindsight, he thought, maybe he w
ouldn’t have liked an answer to fix everything with a word. Deliya was a proud, strong, irresistibly beautiful warrior. Did he expect to have her served to him on a platter?
No. Like all Brions, he wanted a fight. He would get what fate had in store for him one way or another. In the meanwhile, he could tease, and fight with, and dream of Deliya. Possibly even share her bed again. In his heart, he was certain. If all he had to do was wait, then… well, it would be terrible because he wasn’t patient by character, but he’d do it.
It was the Brion way, after all. Nothing worth having ever came easily. And he was more than ready to go and get his impossible woman.
CHAPTER TEN
Deliya
There, Deliya thought.
It had happened. She’d had him and he’d left. Just like she’d feared.
Her room still smelled like him. In her distress, that somehow seemed like the worst possible thing. It was her room, her sanctuary, and now it was infested with the thing that was bothering her. On the other hand, she didn’t want the smell to ever leave her room. Wanted it to be there, with him preferably right along with it.
She did what usually helped when something was wrong. Carefully and meticulously, she set about her duties. For now, that included getting her gear back in order. Then she could figure out how to mend her heart after what should have been a nice, easy tryst after a good battle.
She cleaned the blade of her spear and placed it into its place on the wall and fastened her armor beside it, after cleaning and repairing the damage done to the plates. Then she polished the blade again, just so she would have something to do. Whatever she did, wherever she looked, still he seemed to be there in the room, as though he’d never truly left. If that was how it was going to be, it was bound to be a nightmare.
Wherever she looked, she could see an echo of him. Of his hands on her body, of his lips on hers or whispering words she thought would never affect her. Deliya’s hands hurt with the knowledge that she couldn’t hold him like she wanted to. The whole thing made her feel rather silly. Physical attraction was a normal thing in Brion culture, but never had a man gotten quite so thoroughly under her skin as Darien had. And even more worryingly, she didn’t want to get rid of that feeling of wanting him, of needing him.
At some point, she had some in-ship duties and those were a small blessing. Overall, it was downtime for them. Antaris was being handed over to the Union as a sign that the Brions weren’t as savage and uncivilized as the Antanaris, and it took time for Briolina’s senators to announce where the Triumphant was heading next. So for the time being, they waited, healing their wounds and stocking up. It was the worst, in Deliya’s opinion, when action and tasks were what she desperately needed to keep her mind off of a certain someone.
Ultimately, Brion spirit took over. When in trouble or emotional turmoil, they found the first possible fight or simply looked for something to hack to pieces. Hoping against hope, Deliya put her faith in the fact that punching something would clear her head. It would have to, because nothing else was and she couldn’t just go back to Darien. She had to be bigger than that… didn’t she?
For a lack of ongoing fights, Deliya had to opt for the second option. The Triumphant was equipped to the teeth with every imaginable battle simulator the Brions could get their hands on, so all she had to do was pick one. Deliya marched into the training area like she owned the place, her eyes staring steadfastly forward and ignoring any distraction. She could take a breath only when she saw that Darien had not used the same tactic to relieve his troubled mind.
She picked a training dummy and set up the simulation, making sure that the options she chose would be sure to leave her hurting if she got even one move wrong. Deliya wanted to feel it deep in her bones, at her very core. Training was the only thing she could think of that could take her mind off of Darien for more than a few fleeting seconds and she needed every damn moment she could get at this point.
Taking a deep breath, she signaled the simulation to start. Immediately, the floor beneath her wobbled and opened up into a deep shaft, which she only avoided by a fraction of an inch by jumping to the side. Her heart rate rose and she opened her eyes as the first dummy came for her, swinging its heavy mechanical arms and making her duck and weave between punches. She brought it down by crouching low and catching it in its legs before it could react, swiftly spinning around and flipping back out of its range as it fell, arms still flailing.
Deliya grinned to herself as a laser shot whizzed over her head, making her hair billow a little. This was what she needed. More robotic opponents came for her, determined to make her feel even better. Moving between the dummies and dodging laser bullets, the AI measuring the damage she would have taken in actual combat, she felt herself coming alive again. Like her lungs could open again and her heart could beat, though perhaps not as quickly as she would have preferred it.
Being naturally optimistic, nothing brought her down for too long. There was no room for depression or moping about if one was a warrior on the Triumphant, but as much as she would have wanted to just shed everything that had happened with Darien like a bad dream, she couldn’t. He had gotten deep and she wasn’t sure if any amount of battle, training or excitement could make her whole again the same way that his touch could. And that had her worried.
The problem with the exertion and the battle hormones running wild in her body again was that all of them dragged her mind back to Darien.
The last thing I need, she thought, more amused than mad. If I start thinking of him and battle in the same way I’ll lose my mind.
She laughed off the thought. If Darien got even a whiff of that parallel, he’d never let her live it down.
As the dummies lessened, the trouble in her mind did as well. So yes, the whole situation was a bit weird. Darien wasn’t the first warrior with whom she’d shared the heart of battle passion, and he possibly wouldn’t be the last. The only thing odd about the affair was that her desire for him didn’t go out of the door with the object of it. And it felt different too. But with nothing to do about it, there was no need to worry over it. The Brions didn’t think much about the possibilities to change something. They accepted the way things were. Even if reluctantly.
Fate would bring her someone good, she knew that. At least, she had to hope that. Maybe someone less infuriating.
Or not. Fate seemed intent on mocking her the next day when the commander summoned them for another attack. It seemed a few of the champions had had the wisdom to hide from the initial battle after all. Not enough to remain hidden while the skies were still packed with Brion warships.
Not that it mattered. Their location was pinned and the Triumphant was ready to send its best down to Antaris’ cold, cruel surface again.
Deliya was proud to be considered one of the best. She wasn’t surprised in the least Darien was present as well, greeting her with that familiar smirk. Sighing, Deliya sent a questioning look to the stars, to the unknown direction of fate. If they were not meant to be, did she have to see him all the time?
Darien, at least, seemed perfectly joyful. He took a seat next to Deliya as soon as the boarding began, the very image of expectation.
“I woke up this morning,” he began conversationally, brushing their shoulders together completely not accidentally, “feeling truly warm for the first time since we left Antaris. But, you know, warmth and peace don’t suit us. So I thought to myself, wouldn’t it be great if there was a battle where I really belong?”
Despite herself, Deliya found herself smiling, simply enjoying his company. She wanted to stay mad at herself, or him, or the fates for dangling him before her and then snatching him away, but she couldn’t. He was just so damn… him. And the fates were the fates and she would simply have to trust them to work their magic.
“So this serves me right, absolutely,” Darien said, giving her his best smirk. “More snow. More Antanaris. Treacherous chasms, impossibly slippery ice – what more could we want?”
> “We’re Brions,” Deliya said, teasing.
“I know,” Darien said, making a show of being hurt. “I’m not joking. Why does everyone always think I am? I’m genuinely glad for all that.”
She laughed. It seemed like the most natural thing to do.
The shuttle took off with them, bringing them down to Antaris once more. Battle was beating in her blood again, readying her body for the upcoming fight. Beside her, Darien’s eyes were burning, looking at her.
“Don’t worry, my star,” he said. “Fate will simply have to catch up with us. And I will make sure it will.”
It was a promise. A promise Deliya was sure he and the fates would keep. When she descended into battle, her mind was as calm as it had ever been in the midst of war. The fates would keep her safe. And if the fates slipped, Darien would be right there to catch her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Darien
Nothing ever remained peaceful in the life of a Brion. Darien was fine with that. Who needed the world to be in the same place every morning? It was so much more fun to wake up from a very pleasant dream – of the impossible woman who he desperately wanted to share his bed with – and find everyone running around with their hair on fire. Well, not literally, although that would have been amusing too. Especially from his, currently rather morbid viewing spot.
Darien wasn't afraid of many things, as befit a Brion warrior. In fact, there were only two distinct things that instilled him with dread. First and foremost - Deliya showing up at his door, telling him she belonged to someone else. If gods were good, that would never happen. If they weren't, Darien was willing to make them answer for their transgressions holding them at his spear point.