by Casey Odell
He squeezed her hand back, his face going solemn. “You think so?” Then a grin slid onto his lips and he nudged her playfully on the chin. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, you know.”
Claire let her arms fall limply to her sides. All the energy was drained from her. Even after all that, he was arrogant as ever.
Later that night, Farron showed up at her door, a bottle of wine and two glasses in hand, dressed head to toe in black.
Claire glared up at him, looking almost as gloomy as him in a black silk dressing gown. “Are you trying to get on my good side?”
“Something like that,” he said, grinning.
She snatched the bottle out of his hand and turned, leaving the door open for him to follow. The cork already popped, she opened it and took a small sip, still a bit dubious about Farron’s choices. The taste was sweet, sweeter than any wine she’d ever had before. Almost as if the small cakes she’d eaten with Lianna in her garden had been bottled up.
“I figured you would like it,” Farron said as he walked past her to the chairs and set the glasses on the table. “There are only two bottles of this in the whole wine cellar. But I figured the king wouldn’t mind if it was used to garner favor with you.”
She looked at the bottle, considering. There were definitely perks to this sort of life, she may as well take advantage of it while she could— even if it was taken from the king’s wine cellar without consent. Though, she found it hard to believe Farron would ask permission for taking the bottle in the first place, king or not.
“How very kind of you,” she said, joining him. He sat on the couch while she poured the wine into the glasses. The color was light, but it was hard to tell exactly what it was in the dimness of the room. “Though I must admit, I was a little fearful when I saw it,” she admitted. “You really must be trying to get on my good side.”
She took a glass and circled around the table to sit on the couch, leaving a polite distance between them. It wasn’t that she hated him. She just couldn’t trust herself around him anymore. Her body and mind did strange things whenever he was near lately. Already she fought the urge to get closer to him. She blushed at the thought and was grateful the room was dark so he couldn’t see it. Hopefully. Though his eyes were proving to be much keener than she’d thought.
“I’m still trying to get you to like me, my lady.” He leaned back slowly as if still in pain from earlier, wine glass in hand, and propped his feet up on the table.
“How do you feel?” Claire asked.
He smirked. “I think you already know how I feel about you, Claire.”
“I meant from the fight earlier.”
“A little sore.” He shrugged and took a sip of wine. “But this will help. I’ve lived through much worse, trust me.”
She eyed him, wondering just what sort of ordeals he had lived through. Would he tell her if she asked? She doubted he would, not yet anyway. He was still reluctant to open up, scared he would frighten her away. She drank some of the wine, savoring the flavors.
“Just remember I may know that trick someday,” she teased.
“I don’t like him,” Farron said, suddenly sobering. “That Salí.”
Was he trying to hide that fact before? “I know.”
“He reeks of the Council.”
She sighed. “He’s the only one who will teach me.”
“Don’t trust him so easily, Claire.” He shot a serious look at her. “He may seem nice, but he is not pulling his own strings. I know, I’ve been there before.”
“Alright,” was all she could think of to say. What else could she? She couldn’t stop training with him. All she could do was be more cautious, something she’d been learning how to do more and more these days.
They sat in silence for a few moments, each savoring the wine. She didn’t feel like arguing over something they were both too stubborn to budge on. If he didn’t like Razi, that was fine. He didn’t have to train with him. She couldn’t give up the possibility of becoming stronger just because he didn’t approve.
“Do I frighten you?” he asked quietly, eying the distance between them.
The question threw her a little. She could feel the heat return to her cheeks.
“Maybe a little,” she admitted after taking a deep breath. She could see his expression start to fall before he quickly covered it up, his mask settling into place. It was quick, but she’d caught it, and it wasn’t what she wanted. Not what she meant exactly. It was hard to put into words what exactly she felt for him. “I don’t know, I feel like suddenly, with this new past of yours, I don’t really know who you are, not that I really knew before, not exactly anyway. I don’t know what’s true and what’s not. And with all this,” she motioned to the room around her. “I guess I feel more… intimidated, I suppose, than anything. You sort of always had that effect, you know?”
“My past isn’t who I am. It never was,” he said. “It’s just what I did, nothing more. I’m not evil, I’ve just done some things that I’m not proud of. I never wanted you to be afraid of me, Claire.”
“I know you’re not evil. And I’m not frightened of you, in that sense, really.” She looked down and started playing with her robe, adjusting it in her lap. “Just scared how I react around you now. I know you want me to see you in a different light, and I think maybe, I’m finally starting to see it. I’m sorry for avoiding you before. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m just scared that I might actually like it, what I see, I mean...”
He looked at her carefully, his expression unreadable. He was silent for a moment then said, “I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to.”
She nodded. She could see the effort he was making for her, how he was so willing to take it slow, how he seemed so worried about scaring her away, and she felt a slight pang of guilt deep inside of her. He could clearly have almost any woman he wanted, so why waste all his efforts on her? Not that she didn’t appreciate it, but still… “Why do you like me so much to go through all this?”
He smiled slightly, though it seemed more to himself than anything. “I wasn’t supposed to get close to you, you know, and knowing what you were, I didn’t want to.”
So that was why he acted so distant when she first met him. Though she doubted that was the only reason. “What happened then?” she asked teasingly.
He shrugged. “I just couldn’t help myself.”
“I’m glad to know that my wiles aren’t a complete waste.”
He glanced over at her, his cocky grin in place. “I wouldn’t exactly call them wiles, Claire.”
She sipped at the wine, ignoring his provocation.
“When you first showed up in the forest, I wanted nothing to do with you.”
Imagine the possibilities, she thought. Where would she have been now? Still a captive of the forest elves, instead of a captive of his brother and the Council, most likely.
“What made you change your mind?” she asked, curious.
“That day, when you tried to escape, the first time.” He leaned forward and poured himself another glass before topping hers off. “When you ran into me that day and asked me to let you go. I felt like… I needed to help. Somehow. Then I heard about their plan, the mission, so I volunteered. I thought if I could get you away from them, then it would be alright, that I could ease my conscience after what I did to Lianna. You didn’t know what you were, and I felt like I needed to protect your innocence. I didn’t really plan ahead, as you can see.”
She was quiet for a moment. “It was the dress, wasn’t it?” she asked, trying to pinpoint what made him give in. “At the ball. Seeing me all dolled up. Is that when…?”
He shook his head. “No. But it didn’t hurt.”
She looked at him, confused.
“That day in the market, back in Lendon, when you were trying to prove how tough you were.” His smile widened at his memory. “I thought, ‘She may not look scary, but she sure is cute.’”
Claire could feel the hea
t rise to her cheeks. She didn’t know whether she was embarrassed or flattered.
“You have your own sort of charm, Claire. Something that is much more dangerous because you don’t even know when you are doing it.” His eyes concentrated down on his hands as they played with the glass. “And before I knew it, I was trapped. Helpless…”
She sat still for a moment, staring at Farron. Starting to see a different side of him indeed. “You…” she said, her voice a little too breathy. “You can kiss me now, if you want…”
He looked at her, carefully setting his glass down on the table. Then without hesitation, he moved closer to her and did just that, his mouth finding hers, soft and gentle. His fingers swept over the side of her neck, his thumb brushing along her cheek. Apprehension seemed to ease from her body and she found herself giving into the kiss quickly, letting some of her fears slip away. Her hands grew slack, but his hand caught the wine glass before it could fall.
“Let’s put this over here,” he said, drawing back. He set the glass on the table and turned back to her.
It was her that kissed him this time. She slid a hand over his shoulder and drew him closer. He rested his hands on either side of her on the cushion and left them there, so long that it started to drive her crazy. Until she realized he had meant what he’d said earlier.
“You can touch me if you want to…” she whispered, her breath heavy.
A slight grin crossed his lips, either from relief or because he knew exactly what he was doing. He rested a tentative hand on her waist, squeezing her side gently as he leaned in close once more.
His kisses, how someone so strong and powerful seemed so helpless at her touch, his hands on her, the warm feeling spreading through her body— it was all so intoxicating. She felt like she was sinking, deep down into a warm abyss, one she wasn’t sure she wanted to swim out of. If it was going to be like this every time, she was in trouble.
How did he have such an effect on her? “You’re not using some sort of magic on me, are you?”
“If that were possible, I would have used it a long time ago,” he mused. He kissed her again, trailing up her jaw towards her ear. “Face it, Claire, you like me.”
“I do not,” she pouted, still too stubborn to admit it, to him and herself. His lips brushed along the side of her neck, just beneath her ear, causing her to gasp slightly. When her thoughts were able to gather again, she said, “Stay.”
He drew back and looked down at her, his hand touched her chin lightly.
“You’re not going to run away from me again, are you?”
“No,” she said and then drew him down with her onto the couch.
C laire collapsed onto a bench, her back against the stone wall, her chest heaving, trying to catch her breath. Sweat dripped down her skin.
“I need a break,” she said between breaths.
Razi stood in the center of the courtyard, looking more winded than usual. Her training had grown more intense lately with each session. He was determined to get her mark to ‘awaken’ again, almost as much as she was, but they were met with little success. Sore muscles and aching joints were all she had to show for their hard work. Somehow she got the feeling the Council and the king wouldn’t accept that.
Even after Razi and Farron’s skirmish, Claire had continued to show up to practices. He’d apologized the day after for his actions. Razi, that is. She was still waiting for Farron’s, but doubted she would live to see the day.
Even so, she decided to keep her training with Razi a little quiet. Not that she wanted to hide the fact from Farron, but she knew he wasn’t a fan of the new Council Dog. She tried not to mention much about Farron during practices. It didn’t seem Razi was particularly fond of the elf either.
She sighed. It was a wonder that the palace was big enough to contain both their egos.
“What are your people like? Your home?” she asked suddenly, curious. Even after all this time they’d spent practicing together, she still didn’t know much about him. For all his arrogance he didn’t like to talk about his past very much, reminding her of a silver haired elf she knew. It was a wonder they didn’t get along, really.
Razi knelt down in front of her, casually playing with his dagger. “My people,” he said with a slight laugh. “Not too many people care to learn about the Salí.”
“Why is that?”
“Because we are unrefined,” he said, his eyes concentrating on his dagger. “Barbaric. Not worth thinking about.”
Claire remembered the scorn Farron had shown him the other day. Was that the way most viewed Razi and his people? “I’m sorry,” she said, knowing what it felt like to be shunned by others, though surely not on the same level as him.
“People do not know. They are afraid of anything that is different,” he sneered, his expression hardening. “But I cannot change what I am or where I come from. To hate someone for something they cannot change is deplorable.”
She nodded, agreeing with him. “Was that why you were so kind to Farron the other day?”
“I have already apologized for that, me chaqana,” he said. “I should have known you would not let that go so easily.”
“I’m just trying to make sense of it…”
“That’s because you do not know who he really is.” Razi looked at her pointedly.
“And you do?” she asked, feeling somewhat defensive. It was true that she didn’t know too much about Farron, but she did know he wasn’t as bad as Razi thought.
“I know enough,” he said. “I have heard stories, know of his deeds, his… missions. He is not someone you should get close to.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks. Razi had heard the rumors by now, no doubt, about her and Farron. Who in the palace hadn’t?
“He’s not like that anymore,” she said, hoping she was right. She hadn’t known him from before, neither of them did, so it was hard to say how much he had changed, but she could tell that he had. Even in the short time that she has known him, he had.
“Do you trust him?”
“Enough, Razi!” she snapped. Why was he so worried about it anyway? “He saved my life. Multiple times. And he’s helped me, in more ways than I can ever repay him for. Even coming back here. I appreciate your concern for me, but my relationship with him is none of your concern.”
Razi looked down. “You are right. I have no say in the matter. I just thought you should know…”
“No one’s hands are truly clean,” she said. “I’m beginning to find that out more and more.”
“Except for yours, me chaqana.” He looked up at her and smiled. “Yours seem a little too clean. Perhaps it is you who I should be concerned about after all.”
“It’s not my fault I’ve led a sheltered life,” she said, crossing her arms. “And for all I know, your hands could be just as dirty as his. No one’s perfect. We’ve all made choices that weren’t exactly good before. I know I have.”
He raised an eyebrow at that. “You have?”
“Of course,” she said. “But I’m not going to tell you! Everyone else gets to have their secrets, so why shouldn’t I?” She raised her chin at him. If he wanted her secrets, he was going to have to share his. “Besides, you still haven’t told me about your people.”
He chuckled. “You really want to know about my people that badly?”
“Of course.”
“Fine, fine,” he said. “As you have heard before, I come from Zaqar.”
She nodded, remembering the information.
“It is a vast land, one of the biggest territories in Derenan. It stretches from the Berainese mountains to the west, all the way to the sea.”
“Have you seen it before? The sea?” she asked, interrupting him. She’d always wanted to see it. Water as far as the eye could see, it was hard to imagine.
“Yes, a couple times, but only after I came here.” He gave her a slight smile. “Zaqar is a dry land. Most of it is desert, really. It is perhaps why it is so big. No one wanted it besides us.
The desert tribes. We have been there for a long time, however. Before Derenan, before the Great War. It may be dry, but it is our home.
“Salí is only one of the tribes. There are three other big ones, the Zaraí, Palquan, and the Urkeí, and many smaller ones. We mostly live as nomads, moving from one place to another, never having a permanent home. I suppose that is why most think we are barbaric and unrefined. But it is just our ways.”
“What about your family?”
“I have a little brother and sister and mother. My father died when I was a child in a fight with another tribe. I was able to support my family along with my mother. She made rugs to sell at the towns we would stop in, and I did whatever job I could until I was old enough to join the Usalí, the warriors of my tribe. We were never rich, but we could get by until my mother fell ill. We did not have the money for a doctor or the medicine she needed, and even though I was part of the Usalí, we went deep into debt.”
“Is she alright?”
“Yes,” he said, his eyes far away. “Not long after that Lianna found me and I was able to afford treatment.”
Claire let out a breath, relieved. She was glad that he was able to help his family, even if it was because he worked for the Council now.
“What about those?” she asked, eyeing the rings in his ears. She’d been curious about those things ever since she’d laid eyes on them. “If you don’t mind me asking?”
“Do you like them?” Amusement touched his eyes. “You seem to stare at them quite often, me chaqana.”
“I, uh—” She could feel her cheeks flush again. “I didn’t mean to. It’s just not every day you see such a thing.”
Razi stood, laughing lightly. “In my culture, it means I am a man.”
“Is that all it takes?” She tried not to laugh at how proud he looked, even more so than usual, how he seemed to puff out his chest a little.