peerless_thayet | October, 447 HE

October, 447 HE

The keep is dark when Thayet leads her horse into the courtyard. The party ended hours ago. Most of the Earl of Hafdon's guests will be abed. Servants will be waiting, of course, but she'll avoid them whenever possible. Tomorrow is soon enough to listen to their tuts of disapproval. She managed to undress herself before she was Queen; she'll manage just as well tonight.

Rubbing the back of her neck with one mud coated hand, she spies a man in the shadows of the stable's main archway. She hands the reins over with barely disguised relief and says, "Thank you. She'll need a good rubdown, and her feet looked after."

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"Oh yes, very pleasant. Lovely weather, sun shining, rumors of bandits roaming the countryside."

He takes a step towards Thayet, eyes definitely not taking in the damage to her clothes and her hair coated with mud.

And hopefully not the scrapes on her cheek and arms, either.

"Then I am happy you arrived without incident, my lord."

Thayet swallows, lifting her chin rather than give in to the urge to take a step back.

"You did succeed in surprising me," she tells him, tone ever so slightly hopeful, as if the fruition of his plan will somehow lessen any anger he feels toward her at the moment.

"Yes, I would imagine so, considering you spent a great deal of the night not in the keep."

Jon's voice is quavering slightly, and a similar movement might be noted in his hand as he reaches out to hers.

"No. As it happens, I did not," she murmurs absently, watching his hand approach with a great deal of focus. "The party was well-attended. I'm quite certain the Earl hardly noticed."

Their fingers touch. Thayet holds her breath, then privately scolds herself for being ridiculous. Her hand slides into his.

Quietly: "I'll make my apologies in the morning."

Jon's squeezes her hand hard, and Thayet may notice the shaking has transfered itself to his whole body. Finally, he can't hold it in any longer.

Laughter rings through the courtyard, though he's trying to contain himself so as not to wake up the entire household.

At first, she looks as startled as she had been to see him in the lantern light.

Then her lovely mouth curves into a smile, and starts to twitch.

It's not long before her light, clear laughter joins his, echoing with palpable relief through the still air surrounding them.

"It really couldn't be helped, my lord. I would-" she breaks off to take a breath, pressing her free hand to the ruined cloth just under her bodice, "-I would have been pleased to greet you warmly and most promptly, otherwise."

"I understand, love," Jon replies, laughing. "I wish you could see how you look right now." He leans in and kisses her.

"There's no need. I'm sure you will commit each detail to memory and remind me of my current appearance at many points in the future."

Thayet returns the kiss with more ardor than she's accustomed to displaying outside their private chambers, and as she curls her arm around his neck, a cascade of pearls collects at their feet.

Dismayed, she draws back.

"I do wish I hadn't been so eager to wear this dress."

Jon can't help but laugh at the look on her face. He pulls back and takes her hand as a real stableboy finally appears in the courtyard, no doubt awakened by the raucous laughter.

"Next time you go running after bandits, do me and the country's coffers a favor and change first."

"If there is time," she concedes. A shadow crosses her face, but she gives a barely perceptible shake of her head; they'll discuss it inside. "Perhaps I should take to wearing the attire your Champion so favors."

The stableboy takes the reins and stares at the small puddle of pearls with a lean, hungry look. Thayet notices as she collects her crossbow from the back of the saddle and offers, "If you could gather all you find and return them to one of my women, you may keep five for your troubles, my lad.

"I'm afraid what might happen if I bend down myself," she adds in a whisper to Jonathan.

"I'm not sure that will go over well at formal functions, but whatever will make you happy, my dear."

Another snort of laughter escapes Jon's lips as he tosses the boy a coin, and tucks Thayet's arm under his.

"Come, my dear. I want to hear all about your adventure. And get you out of those clothes." He grins as he catches sight of the boy's slight scandalized look, leading Thayet inside.

"At this point, I think a good breeze might suitably accomplish the task."

Oblivious to the boy's reaction, she gingerly lifts her torn skirts and crosses the threshold into the keep's main entrance hall. She might have hoped that the late hour would help her return unnoticed, but the truth of the matter is that when the king and queen are in residence, very few courtiers or servants retire before they do. Many anxious, curious and, on the faces of a brave few, amused looks greet their entrance.

Thayet hesitates briefly and makes a small, resigned noise, then keeps walking with a mild smile firmly in place.

"Good evening, everyone."

You'd never know by her voice or manner that she looks anything less than impeccably turned out; certainly not like someone who's been dragged through a muddy river and left out to dry.

Jon nods as they pass various people, only stopping to speak with the Earl. "Thank you for contacting me, Sir Reginald. As you can see, I found her majesty and she is in one piece, unlike her outfit."

Sir Reginald hides a grin. "I'm glad, your Highness. I assume you two would like to retire?"

"I think that would be best," Jon confirms. "Thank you. We shall see you in the morning."

With a final nod to the gathered group, many of whom are fighting smiles (though several female courtiers are wincing at the sight of the queen's gown), and sweeps Thayet up the stairs.

"Sir Reginald," Thayet nods as she is ushered past. "I apologize for disrupting your lovely evening. Until tomorrow."

He smiles at her chagrin and she knows all is forgiven, but when Jon opens the door to their suite she laments, "I will have to apologize very prettily indeed."

"You will. Possibly even groveling will be necessary."

Jon is examining his shirt - embracing his wife seemed like a good idea at the time, but the laundress might disagree with coating of mud the expensive linen has on it.

"Are we still speaking of the Earl?" she asks lightly, smiling.

However, the smile soon fades into a remorseful look. She brushes his fingers aside, assessing the damage for herself.

Jon places his hand beneath Thayet's chin and gently raises her eyes to meet his.

"It's fine, dearest. You did what you had to." He tilts his head. "I'm sure the bandits would have been much more pleased if you had given thought to your dress."

His kindness sets her hand to shaking as she looses the lace on his shirt. Only now does she allow the strain to show.

"We saved the girls from the village," she tells him, "but lost two Riders in the process."

Thayet would change nothing about this task she set for herself, commanding the Queen's Riders; that said, she feels the responsibility acutely.

Jon pulls the shirt off over his head and tosses it in the corner, more concerned with getting Thayet out of her dress and away from the thoughts the mud holds.

"The losses are terrible, but they knew the possibility. They died a warrior's death." He is unlacing her dress as he speaks.

Thayet looks over her shoulder, watching him, and otherwise keeps very still. It's really the only way she can help.

The laces are stiff and resistant. "You might as well cut them," she points out. "Even the most gifted seamstress in the realm would have a hard time salvaging any of this dress."

Swallowing, she faces forward again.

"The outlaws led us into a swamp. We were outmaneuvered. Sara took it upon herself to lead three of them away from the rest of us. That may be the only reason I'm standing here. It was very brave."

Jon removes his belt knife and carefully cuts the laces to the dress and eases it off her shoulders. He grabs a blanket off an armchair, turns Thayet and carefully wraps the blanket around her and leads her to the bed, seating her there.

He sits in front of her and takes her hands, listening.

After casting a mournful glance at the dress, she huddles in the blanket and stares at their hands, absently turning them over until she can trace designs on the back of one of his.

"Rolfin grew up along the coast. The knowledge he brought to the Fifth Rider Group was indispensable. He killed several of the outlaws single-handedly before he fell. He'll be sorely missed.

"Jon." A quick, indrawn breath. "Unless I'm mistaken, at least three of them were Carthaki."

Jon's hands tighten on hers unconsciously.

"Are you sure?"

The words are low and hard.

A distant look in her eyes, Thayet remembers the shadows and the speed; the sounds and the flashes of color.

She nods.

"It was hard to see. Two outlaws went after each other by mistake, another was on the way in. A man shouted the word for 'friend' and the other two turned away. I can't think of any other reasoning to explain it. Nor can I make much more sense of their target."

Edited 2008-04-16 00:33 (UTC)

"Unless they knew you were nearby and would join the Riders. The girls were a trap."

Jon's expression is turning furious.

"We can't know for certain," she reminds him quietly. Thayet's own expression softens as she takes in his, and she strokes soothing hands over his shoulders and down his back. "It might not have been."

She kisses him gently, adding close to his ear, "But if it was, we now know to be better on our guard. Perhaps Sir Reginald will be kind enough to provide us with a guest list. And I'm sure someone at the palace has been keeping track of the ambassador's whereabouts."

Edited 2008-04-16 14:43 (UTC)

Jon sighs and nods, relaxing as Thayet's gentle hands move over his skin. He gathers her to him, holding her close.

"I'm just glad you are alright."

Thayet smiles against his shoulder. He's warm and comforting, and she's suddenly fiercely glad he's here.

"Saving those girls was well worth the price of the dress," she informs him in an even tone, "but I don't suppose you are concerned enough about my welfare to protect me from my lady's maids when they see it in the morning?"

The smile widens.

Jon grins into her hair, then pulls back just enough to be able to see her face.

He leans down and stops a breath from her lips. "Not a chance."

A delicate sigh escapes. She stares into his eyes for a moment, then lowers her lashes and studies his lips, making no move to close the distance.

"I rather thought that might be your answer." She shakes her head sadly. "Knowing that, I might join the Fifth Rider Group in the forest after we clean up, thereby avoiding the whole issue."

Another almost kiss, and she stands, drops the blanket at her feet and moves in the direction of the bath.

"Unless you can persuade me to stay."

If she were a betting woman, Thayet would place good money on his chances.

Jon almost tumbles to the floor in his haste to get off the bed and over to Thayet. He manages to grab her hand and swing her back around to him, pressing her body to his.

"I might be able to think of something," he murmurs as he finally captures her lips with his.

They don't manage to make it to the bath that night.

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October, 447 HE

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