《War of Seasons》19. Gray Before the Storm

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Hollyhock blinked dumbly a few times before breaking into uproarious laughter. “I like you, you boring girl!”

“Why thank you,” Dorothea said flatly. Hollyhock’s laughter overtook him so much that he ended up on the floor; she waited for his face to come floating back upwards again.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. This is more serious than I thought. So, you’re from Sirpo, and you all got attacked? Man… That’s insane.”

“Yes.” Ranting her frustrations had reminded Dorothea of how wrong everything had gone so suddenly. The danger was far from behind them, regardless of what choice she made going forward.

“For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t have been so mean to you if I’d known the situation.”

“The situation shouldn’t make a difference,” Dorothea reprimanded sharply.

Hollyhock lifted his hands in surrender. “I know, I know. But honestly I’m like that with anyone I think might be a little too involved with Rhys Tamlin, if that makes a difference. Besides, an Atlin walks in here after years of silence? Of course I’m gonna be a little pissed.”

She hadn’t considered that last point, but in hindsight it made a lot of sense. To divert from that she asked, “Is there a problem? With Rhys?”

“Meh. Kind of. It’d sound petty if I told you.”

“Alright.” Better not press the issue. Dorothea looked around the room absently. What now? A fearful anxiety was draping over her shoulders. There was just no telling what would happen now.

“Heya.” She jumped when Hollyhock spoke. “Let’s sit and chat. We—well I—got off on the wrong foot, so let’s start over. Hm?” He raised his eyebrows and smiled hopefully.

“Of course.” He hadn’t acted so horribly that she’d deny a perfectly fine extension of good will. She followed as he moved to the tables and sat across from her with his legs crossed.

“So!” He rested his elbows on the tabletop and propped his face between his palms. “Surprise me again! Say anything at all. It was fun when you did that just now.”

What, did she live to entertain him? “Well… Um. Let’s see…” Ensuing conversation was light and easy as facts, interests, likes and dislikes were traded.

Hollyhock was in the middle of a story about buying clothes near the end of a quick hour. “I was nervous, see. So I walked into the store and without waiting a beat I said to the guy, yeah, I want a skirt that hides my dick so I don’t have to tuck it. And let me tell you, Dorothea, he looks physically pained when I say this. Like I kicked him there myself. So I say again, I want a skirt that hides my dick and he’s like, the problem with that is that he’s not a tailor, he’s a cobbler. Yeah, the tailor was next door. I was so nervous and wound up I went to the wrong place,” Hollyhock explained. “Not my finest moment, I admit.”

“So what happened next?” Dorothea had her hands over her mouth to contain laughter.

“Well I said to him, I—” Hollyhock cut himself off and looked over Dorothea’s shoulder when the door to the mess hall opened. “Iree! And Cerid. That’s okay too. And… Shit, is that Shark Olyen? Hey!”

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Dorothea stumbled as she tried to stand and spin around at the same time. “Shark!”

Her friend smiled, though it was tired and lackluster. “Hey…” They leaned against Dorothea once the two met in the middle. “I can’t wait to go home,” they muttered so only she could hear.

Dorothea nodded, watching Iree and Cerid approach. The latter looked miserable, his hair stuck to his forehead and darkened with sweat. Iree wore a refreshing smile, her eyes twinkling. Dorothea had trouble keeping her gaze up though, as the white blouse the woman wore revealed very much of an ample bust. Even with a thin mint-colored undershirt, there was a good deal exposed. Long, slender legs were displayed in all their toned glory, eclipsed only by black boots and a brown skirt with a purple stripe running along the bottom. She wore a garment between a vest and corset, a black drape starting beneath her chest and ending with two gold and white stripes running along the points it ended in. Lastly, she donned a green scarf with a circular golden pin on it, a four-leaf clover in its center.

Dorothea thought of Rhys then. The shade of the gold in Iree’s pin was the same as that on his. Maybe Iree was one of the good friends he’d given one to. Amidst these observations, she realized she was blatantly staring. Iree’s smile was brimming with laughter, and something told Dorothea she was used to the attention, especially since her position no doubt landed her in the spotlight often. Thankfully, Iree didn’t seem offended.

Still, she apologized. “Sorry. We don’t have clothes like that in Sirpo.” Iree was everything she wasn’t, Dorothea thought distractedly. Beautiful, vibrant, strong. One could feel her energy emanating throughout the space she dominated.

“I noticed.” Iree glanced sympathetically at Cerid as if he were a puppy caught out in the rain. She turned to Hollyhock. “Have you been a good host?”

“I’m never anything less, am I?”

Iree shook her head, smiling. “Of course.”

“What do we do now?” Dorothea asked, wanting to cut to the point.

“You and Olyen do nothing. I’ve already proposed the move to the council, so that should be approved by the morning and we’ll go. It’ll take them a while to discuss what allying ourselves with Sirpo is going to mean.”

“Are you really sure that Sirpo will be safe in the meantime?” Dorothea asked, distressed.

“Of course.” Iree smiled apologetically. “I know this isn’t progressing how you want. I’m sorry, but that’s just the way things are here.”

Dorothea nodded, swallowing further protests. “Thank you for your efforts.”

Iree continued. “There’s the attack on the border to deal with too.” She glanced at Cerid, whose face clouded with shame. “Do I have it right that you agreed to revive the soldiers who were killed there, Atlin?”

“Yes.” It seemed like the least she owed Cerid after what he’d gone through to get to Equin and what had happened while he’d been there. Plus, it would endear her to Sacer and encourage them to accept her request for their aid continuing until the end of the war.

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“Okay. Here’s the plan.” Iree cocked one hip to the side and put a hand on it. “I’ll make a small group and head out to check on your village. Rhys’ll lead a different group, including you three, Atlin, Olyen and Creed, to the border. We’ll both depart at sunrise, since the council said they’d have a decision by tonight and I’ll be damned if they don’t say yes. Then, with everything settled, you and I”—she gestured between herself and Dorothea—“with the supervision of the council, will make a contract that clearly maintains Sirpo’s neutrality while establishing that Sacer will lend military strength in the event of continued Ghurian violation of the Treaty of Blending.”

Good… Everything was going to be okay. “Thank you, Commander.” Dorothea bowed, and Iree laughed.

“No need to be so formal. Helping people in need is just the Sacerian way. But that bowing… That’s something Ghurians do in formal settings, right? Might wanna knock that off. Here. Watch this.” She held up her arm to Hollyhock, hand in a fist, and Hollyhock raised his opposite arm to bump his wrist against hers. “A Sacerian sign of solidarity. Do that here if you’re really trying to show thanks.”

“Of course. Thank you for the warning.” She’d picked up her bowing habit from her father and other former-Ghurian Sirpoans. “Still. Perhaps, as a sign of appreciation and good will between our nations, our trade agreement with Sacer could be renegotiated. Once our…more dirty business is concluded.”

Iree looked more than pleased at the suggestion. “I’m sure the council would be happy to discuss that. To that end, we’ll clean things up nicely tomorrow. Where’s Rhys, by the way? He left you all alone?”

“He said he needed to return to his post.”

“Well, I guess that’s where I’m going then.” Iree shook her head. “He’s so useless. Well, Atlin, just remember that patience is key for now.” With that, she started making her way to the door. “Hollyhock,” she ordered over her shoulder, “get them some breathable clothes, for the Gods’ sakes.”

“You better pay me back!”

“Maybe!”

“Oh joy,” Hollyhock muttered with a smile and a wave as Iree shut the door sharply behind her. “I love the woman, but Gods is she demanding.”

“She is our commander. It would be strange if she were not,” Cerid pointed out.

“Yeah, I guess.” Hollyhock smiled and shook his head before addressing Shark and Dorothea. “Well, come on then. Cerid, you ought to go home and let your folks know you’re okay.”

He looked grateful. “I will.” In a quick movement, he reached out to grasp one of Dorothea’s hands and one of Shark’s. “I cannot tell you how thankful I am that you are here.” With a shy dip of his head and a scurrying dash, he was gone.

“Damn, he’s cute,” Shark declared.

“Trust me, that impression will wear off quickly,” Hollyhock laughed. “He’s an annoying little shit.”

Shark shrugged. “Sounds hot.”

Hollyhock smiled wryly. “You’ll see. But come on. You both look absolutely awful.” He led the way back into the city streets.

They made a point to be done cheaply and quickly, something Hollyhock was pleased with. Once Shark and Dorothea found themselves owning much lighter clothes and having changed, cleaned up and been left alone in the barracks’ first room, they simultaneously collapsed onto the couch with the silent agreement that they both needed a moment to breathe and take everything in.

“I’m dead. Totally dead inside,” Shark groaned, stretching.

“Yeah. I don’t really know what to think.” Dorothea paused. “Speaking of knowing, how do you know Iree? And Hollyhock, too.”

“Oh, that. Not much to tell. Iree, Hollyhock, Rhys and I were in the same class. There was a guy named Dale they all hung out with too, but I haven’t seen him yet. I had the biiiggest crush on him back then. But we were kids, so I liked a new person every other week. I mean, he was like, half of those weeks, but still.”

Here lurked a spot of Shark’s past they had been less forthcoming about. Dorothea had heard a few vague stories of these military years, but Shark was always impersonal in their telling. She’d never gotten a full sense of who Shark was during that period. “Will you tell me more?” she asked, not wanting to push too hard at what had to be a very stretched, thin layer of ice over roiling emotions.

They smiled reassuringly, sensing her unease. “With my group, I remember Rhys following Iree around like she was a mother hen or something. Dale was always with her too. So we all spent those couple of years training together, then everyone sort of drifted apart. People weren’t usually sent into the field until we turned fifteen unless there was an exception, like their magic was valuable or they were needed. I was one of those exceptions, and so was Rhys, I think. But I was a self-absorbed person, you know. Thinking about my own issues.”

“Thinking about leaving,” Dorothea said softly.

“Yep.” Shark sat up. “What you’ve got to understand while we’re here, Thea, is that Sacerians are proud to defend their culture and legacy. It’s not like they don’t regret having to kill for it, but it’s more that…” They hesitated, searching for words. “It’s worth it to protect what they have to protect. Keep that in mind, okay? Don’t go around pitying everyone.”

“Okay.” Shark’s words made even clearer the gulf between her and everyone else. She wanted to comfort that part of Shark she couldn’t reach, but, even after all this time, she didn’t know how. Instead, together, they silently prepared as much as they could for the brief trial that awaited them before they could fall back into the fragile, insular world of peace they had built.

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