Fire Falling (24 page)

“I did.” He took a long drink. “I returned from my last tour and found she’d decided that ‘when the war is over’ was too long to wait.”

“I’m sorry,” Vhalla sighed, accepting his flagon back.

“I’m getting over it.” He shrugged. He wasn’t convincing in the slightest.

“You know what will help?” She swung her legs back around and stood with a stumble and a laugh. “More alcohol, more dancing.” She held out her hands for him and he chuckled, resigning himself to her.

They both had something to run from, Vhalla realized, or rather
someone
. He ran from the shroud of this other woman, and she ran from the painful possibilities that surrounded her and Aldrik. Vhalla took the stairs with resolve, his hand wrapped in hers as she led him back below. Tonight they would run together.

The first stop was the bar. Just because she realized she was running didn’t make her judgment any more sound. Her hand was in the air and she ordered two shot glasses of a liquid that burnt all the way down.

Daniel coughed. “How are you drinking this?” He slammed the glass back down on the bar.

“You’re drinking it too,” she coughed. Vhalla felt the alcohol hit her system and she swayed, laughing again. “Come on.”

Daniel paid the bartender and they were on the dance floor anew. He took her hands and spun her three times. Vhalla’s insides bubbled, and she was laughing again. Her hips swayed and her hands clapped to the music as they stepped and twisted their hips. She kicked to his left and he to her right, before changing directions.

They came back together and one hand was wrapped in his, the other on his shoulder and his on hers. Vhalla found herself beaming from ear to ear. They were both awful dancers. But she was completely intoxicated on the alcohol, on the crowd, on the heat, on Daniel’s sweet smiles, on his gentle admiration, and on his hands.

Finally her feet felt as though they were on the verge of falling off, and her joints screamed in protest of further movement. Vhalla fell out of step by placing her hands on his shoulders, leaning on him for support. She felt Daniel’s palms fall on her hips.

“I’m
so
tired,” she shouted in his ear over the music and noise of the people.

“Thank the Mother, me too.” He laughed and led her off the dance floor. They walked over to the main entrance and hovered by the door.

“Where is everyone else?” The band never stopped playing so the floor never stopped moving. They both tried to locate just one of the people they came with.

“Who knows? They know their way back.” Daniel yawned, he turned and stumbled into the street. It was his turn to almost collapse, and Vhalla ran up beside him, throwing her arms around his waist. He grabbed her for support and they almost fell together.

“You-you’re drunk.” She punched his gut.

“Ungh,” he grunted. “Don’t do that or I’ll be sick on your shoes.”

“You wou-oudnt,” she laughed and slurred her words, her arm situating around his waist and his around her shoulders.

“Now who’s drunk?” He put his thumb on one side of her mouth and index finger on the other, pinching her lips together to make a talking motion.

Vhalla laughed and slapped his hand away. “Don’t make fun of me,” she pouted.

“Now there’s a face that could break the strongest of men.” He grinned. Vhalla noticed one side of his mouth went up more than the other. It didn’t have the same curl as Aldrik’s but there was something similar and charming in it.

They stumbled through the streets teasing each other and grabbing at walls and railings for support. In all it was rather a miracle that they didn’t end up horribly lost. On the way they passed a public fountain, and Daniel insisted she drink liberally.

“I can’t drink anymore.” She lay out on the dusty ground, her face wet.

“Get up off the ground,” he laughed.

“No, it’s nice here.” She grinned, which was interrupted with a yawn. The fuzziness in her head was beginning to change to exhaustion.

He extended a hand to her. “It’s not far now, Vhalla. Bed is better than the ground. Plus, I think there are a few people, whom I’m rather fearful of answering to, that would be cross if I let you sleep on the road.”

She found her feet again, and they stumbled into the inn not long after. The main lobby was quiet, and he helped her upstairs. Vhalla dissolved into a fit of giggles, collapsing against the wall.

“You’re so loud,” he scolded between uncontrollable laughter.

“No, you are!” She covered her mouth with a hand, her sides aching from bruises and amusement.

Daniel smiled down at her charmingly. His hair hung around his face. He was plain looking, normal for an Easterner. But for Vhalla he was handsome with nostalgia, and his voice, worn from too many years of calling across battlefields and training grounds, was beginning to sound smooth. “Come on, to bed with you.”

“Thank you, Daniel,” Vhalla whispered, pausing in front of her door.

“For what?” he asked.

Even drunk, she wasn’t naive. This would be the moment most other men would ask to come into her room. Vhalla leaned against the door with a sincere smile. The glitter of intoxication would fade with the dawn. But the sweet wash of his presence already promised to linger. “I haven’t had that much fun in a long time.”

“Me neither.” Daniel took a few more steps backwards. “If you need anything, I’m upstairs, first to the right on the landing.”

“Thank you.” She yawned.

“All right, to sleep, you beautiful Windwalker.” He gave her a lazy smirk and Vhalla reciprocated before slipping into the dark room.

She didn’t even find it in her to change. Vhalla headed straight for the bed, collapsing on top of another comatose body. She nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Welcome back, Vhalla,” Larel mumbled groggily.

“What are you doing here?” Vhalla relaxed, wiggling under the blankets.

“I wanted to make sure you made it back,” the Westerner yawned. “How was the rest of your night?”

“Fun.” Vhalla snuggled up to the familiar warmth of Larel.

“Fritz?” Larel closed her eyes.

“Don’t know,” Vhalla said honestly, and wondered if she should feel guilty.

“He’s likely still trying to pick up boys,” Larel laughed tiredly. Her words slurred slightly—Vhalla hadn’t been the only one drinking. “Daniel?”

“Yes, he walked me back.” Vhalla rubbed her face on the pillow.

“He didn’t do anything untoward, did he?” Larel cracked her eyes open to study Vhalla.

Vhalla laughed. “No, he’s wonderful actually,” she admitted treacherously. “I should be with someone like him ...” When Vhalla thought about it, he’d be a sensible choice for her. Only just above her station, Eastern like she was, thoughtful, kind, handsome. She felt strange just musing over the growing list of reasons why Daniel was a good match.

“Aldrik?” With the name alone Vhalla’s rationalization over Daniel and her halted.

“I love him,” she sighed. She loved him so much her heart ached at the thought. One night and too much alcohol couldn’t change what had been growing and building for months, even if it may be for the better. Vhalla picked at the blanket. “What did you feel for Aldrik?”

“What did I feel?” Larel shifted onto her back. “I felt like he was one of the only people who I really had in the world, who really cared for me. I suppose that’s why I called it love.”

“How do you mistake love?” Vhalla asked.
Maybe she was mistaken also?

“There are many kinds of love,” Larel said.

“Are there?”

“Do you love Aldrik as you love your father?” A grin was in Larel’s voice.

“Family is different!” Vhalla pushed the other woman’s shoulder.

“I love you,” Larel said softly, stilling Vhalla. The Western woman leaned close, placing a gentle kiss on Vhalla’s forehead. “I don’t love you as a lover. But I love you wholly and completely nonetheless.” Vhalla suddenly felt like crying. “And I love Aldrik—but as my friend; I didn’t and don’t want him between the sheets. When I kissed him, it was strange, awkward; there was nothing to it other than a kiss.”

“I see,” Vhalla barely said over another yawn. She wondered if she kissed Aldrik what she’d feel.

“Let’s go to sleep, Vhalla. It’s late.” Larel shifted closer, before settling.

Vhalla closed her eyes. She imagined Larel’s slow and steady breathing to be Aldrik’s. She imagined it was his warmth radiating close by. Vhalla sighed softly. There was an ache that made her legs shift under the covers. If it was the alcohol or the exhaustion that brought her to admitting it, she knew without doubt, she wanted the crown prince as a woman—as a lover—would.

T
HROUGH THE OTHERWISE
dark room a slit of light streamed between the curtains, causing Vhalla to blink blearily and her head to pound.

“I feel sick,” she groaned softly.

“You drank too much,” Larel mumbled.

“You two,
silence
,” an agonized whisper ordered.

Both women sat up at the sound of the male voice.

Vhalla peered over the edge of the bed to see a disheveled Fritz collapsed on the floor. “When did you get here?” She paused. “
Why
are you here?”

“Larel wasn’t in our room, and I was worried. Then I got sleepy,” Fritz groaned, rolling away from the light. “No more talking.”

Just when Vhalla was going to give into the idea of sleeping the day away, there was a knock.

“Damn that person to the Mother’s fiery justice,” Fritz spat spitefully.

“Vhalla?” It was Daniel.

Vhalla pulled herself to her feet and tugged at her rumpled, alcohol-smelling clothing. Larel and Fritz had already collapsed again when she opened the door. Daniel seemed to be in a better state, but not by a large margin. His hair was wet, and Vhalla guessed a bath would likely help her also.

He chuckled when he saw her. “Still sleeping?” he remarked rather obviously.

“No, practicing an ancient Tower ritual,” she retorted with a tired grin, leaning against the doorway. Vhalla scanned the tray he held in his hands. “You come bearing gifts?”

“A little something. May I?” Daniel held up his offering of food, water, and some vials.

She nodded and stepped aside for her fellow Easterner to slip into the dark room. Larel and Fritz stared at him red-eyed and squinting but didn’t question.

“I thought you two might be here.” He shook his head in amusement. “I brought water for each of you and some potion that’ll help with your heads. I managed to find some before they were all gone.”

“And
man’nik
.” Larel was on her feet, headed for the tray. She grabbed a steaming bun, biting into it ravenously.

“That.” Daniel didn’t even try to pronounce the name of the Western food. He glanced at Vhalla’s confused face. “It’s filled with meat.”

“Eat one, Vhalla.” Larel shoved one into her hands, grabbing for the water.

“Thank you, Daniel,” Vhalla said sincerely, downing the potion and chasing the taste with water.

“It was my suggestion to go out last night.” He grinned as Fritz dragged his feet over. “And I could tell none of you were really used to that type of affair.”

“And you are?” Fritz took his share of Daniel’s gifts.

“Not really.” Daniel chuckled. “We’re going out for a quieter night tonight, if you’d all like to join.”

“No alcohol,” Larel mumbled.

“No alcohol,” he confirmed. “I’ll be back around dusk. We’re all meeting in the lobby downstairs.” Daniel started for the door.

“Where are you going now?” Vhalla asked.

Daniel paused, his gaze questioning. “I thought I’d go to the main market today.”

“Can I come with you?” She wasn’t sure what overtook her in that moment.

“I don’t mind if you come along.” Daniel flashed her a toothy smile, and Vhalla found herself unable to stop herself from smiling back.

“I need to change ...” Vhalla pinched her rumpled clothes, catching a whiff of herself. She felt as gross as she smelled from dancing last night. “And bathe.”

“I’ll wait downstairs,” he said, opening the door. “Take your time.”

“Daniel, huh?” Fritz gave an appraising hum.

“What?” Vhalla asked, defensive.

“Nothing, just a shame he doesn’t seem interested in boys. The march is long,” Fritz sniggered.

“Oh quiet.” Larel shook her head at Fritz. “You have someone.”

“You do?” Vhalla blinked. The Southerner seemed so intent on finding men all night.

“Not really ...” Fritz was more uncomfortable than Vhalla had ever seen him.

“Grahm, it’s Grahm.” Larel rolled her eyes.

“Grahm?” Vhalla remembered the Eastern man Fritz was rarely seen without in the Tower. How they’d sit, thighs touching, shoulders brushing. “You and Grahm?”

“It’s nothing official, I don’t know ...” The scarlet on Fritz’s cheeks told Vhalla everything she needed to know. Whatever was “not official” about them wouldn’t be that way for long when Fritz returned.

“If you’re going to the market, you’ll need these.” Larel tapped three golden coins on the dresser.

“Where did those come from?” Vhalla had never seen so much money at once in her life.

“Pay,” Fritz yawned, making for the door.