Omens In Ashes

11th Day of Frost, 17th Year in the Age of Kings

“So we are agreed?” Caelin sat like a Queen in the centre of the room. A large fire was banked behind the Baroness of Burhan. At the end of Frost, it was a cold, dark day in the thick forest. Very little natural light broke through the canopy outside. “You will accompany my daughter to Andaris?” Caelin was a beautiful woman, tall and fair with piercing blue eyes. Perhaps the opposite to the man who stood beside her chair, the Baron himself, Pavoo Burhan.

“You were recommended to us, by our son.” Pavoo rested a hand on the tall back of the chair. Where his wife wore a beautiful and elaborate dress that buttoned up the centre of her body to the neck, he was dressed less formally. His shirt hung over dark trousers, a deep blue tunic seemed to perched on his wide shoulders. Perhaps the only sign of his wealth, was a golden broach with the Burhan emblem, a compass, attached to an otherwise empty belt. He was not a man who carried a weapon, or money.

“Yes,” the third member of the party was a tall man, broad shouldered and weathered more by the elements than the pair who had summoned him to the very heart of the country. The only way to access Burhan was by boat, and he had travelled a long way to attend the meeting.

“Before he joined the sailors, Edmund was under your command?” The woman was filled with pride for her son.

“Yes, my Lady.”

The noble pair exchanged a look, and a fond smile. “Well I imagine your paths cross less often now,” Caelin admitted. “I will inform Edmund of our...agreement.”

“She will not be known as a Burhan,” Pavoo spoke, but looked uneasy at the words he said, watching his wife. “Only as Reyes. She has earnt her knighthood, and it is only fair that she is able to continue her training.”

“She wants to be a Skyrider,” Caelin scoffed and looked away from her husband. “What a waste.”

“It was our agreement that she be allowed to try,” Pavoo seemed to speak more to his wife, who studied the window instead, watching as thick drops of ran slid down the panes.

The woman stood then, taller than her husband by half a hand. “Until she is married,” Caelin corrected and smiled at the second man. “And her chances of finding a suitable match will be better, if no one knows our daughter is running around the city, getting all muddy and sweaty, uh.” Caelin wrinkled her nose, clearly with little understanding of the dangers faced by the armed forces. But showing her distaste for such ugly work.

“If no one knows that she is training to be a skyrider, I can find a better match for her.” Caelin studied the stranger. “No one beyond Burhan will recognise her, once a betrothal is agreed then I expect the family of her husband will demand an end to this nonsense.”

“Or perhaps they will see value in her work,” Pavoo warned. “Elyna has upheld her end of the bargain, we will fulfill ours.” The Judge folded his hands together. “I hope perhaps, that Elyna can work within your unit from time to time, so that you can keep an eye on her.”

“Her reputation is most important,” Caelin interjected. “You understand.“

“I’m sure Ser Yvan understands perfectly, my love.” Pavoo seemed to soothe the woman.

“Now, if we are in agreement? I expect Elyna is eager to meet you?”

Yvan’s feet were aching and the skin of his hands burned. It had been seasons since he had last sailed, and the trip up the river proved useful, allowing him the opportunity to sail again. Caelin hadn’t even offered a glass of water upon his swift arrival, which she had demanded.

He studied the pair. Pavoo was no knight, he could tell, maybe a book keeper or a teacher of some sort, but certainly not a fighter. He was fat around the edges, his stomach not as lean as the more active lords, though his heavily draped clothing hid a lot of his bulk. Caelin on the other hand was a beauty, which led Yvan to believe she was power hungry, for why else would a woman of such beauty marry a man so…

“Ser!” One of Yvan’s men called to him from the door.

He turned around, only to look back and excuse the interruption. “What is it?” He asked.

“The ship is ready to sail.”

Yvan nodded. “My lord, my lady,” he lowered his voice and smiled warmly in Caelin’s direction. “If your daughter is ready.”

“I’m sure that she will be,” Pavoo grinned and nodded to a slender blonde woman who stood at the door. “Emily, if you’re both packed?”

Emily was a knight, and dressed for the cold weather. Her sword attached to her hip and a cloak around her shoulders the blonde nodded. “I’ll fetch Elyna, my Lord. So you can say your farewells.”

Caelin looked like thunder as Emily vanished from the room.

Elyna had been working, setting her belongings alongside her friends’. By her understanding Emily, and the Captain would be the only ones who would know who she really was. She was dressed in dark trousers tucked into warm socks and short boots, protected against the snow and mud. Her shirt was clean, beneath a heavy dark green tunic and an additional layer of a leather jacket that reached past her thighs. Her scarf was loose around her neck and she looked up as Emily appeared and beckoned her away from the bags. Things that the ships crew were gathering up and taking down to the docks, understanding that two young knights were travelling to the city with them.

Elyna tucked long dark hair behind her ears and hid a pair of gloves in her pockets as she followed her friend to the meeting room, stepping out from behind Emily, she couldn’t help but notice the large man who took up more than his fair share of space.

Elyna bowed to the man as was polite for a knight to a Captain before greeting him with a brief smile that flashed across her features.

“Some time alone,” Caelin commanded and the family was left for a few moments. Elyna was summoned before she could speak to the Captain and the woman drew her aside, as the man left and the door was closed behind him.

It wasn’t long before Elyna emerged once more from then room. The corridor was narrow and she bent to pick up her satchel, pulling it over her shoulder. She looked up at the tall man once more, taking in his rather fierce appearance and pale gaze. Still, she was excited, hardly able to contain herself and stand on one spot.

“I’m ready for your command, Ser.”

****

The journey back to the city was slow. Thick ice lined the banks of the river and crusted along the surface. It was a miserable time of year to travel, but Elyna loved it. Where she could, she tried to help the shops crew with their sailing. No one grew up in Burhan without at least a passing knowledge of ships and how they were constructed.

When she couldn’t be useful, she trained with the handful of soldiers and knights that had accompanied Yvan to Burhan. The official summons had been to collect a barge filled with firewood to take back to the city. Frost had been hard and cold, and Burhan wood burnt slower and hotter. The load would fetch an excellent price. Besides, it wasn’t unusual for a noble family to make demands of who would answer their summons. Nor was it strange for young knights or squires to accompany a ship back to the city. Le’Sark was a little strange in her preference to be called Emily. But the dark-haired girl was more comfortable with Reyes, or Rey as it had immediately been shortened to.

The sun was just about to start rising. The air was misty, thick, pale and lingered on the deck of the ship. Elyna had wrapped her scarf around her head and pulled on thick leather gloves. With her hands on the railings she moved from foot to foot, breath coming out in gasps of white air as she struggled to keep warm.

The tall Captain lent beside her and looked down at the noble girl.

“It’s colder in the mountains, and in the sky.” He looked up, but could only see the mist and the tips of the trees that reached across the river banks.

“Yes, Ser,” Elyna nodded, she clipped her hands together and blew on them, her nose was frozen and she swore she could feel it dripping.

He turned to face her, one arm pressed to the rail. His pale blue gaze was serious as he took her in. She looked soft, how could anyone mistake her for anything but a daughter of the nobility? Elyna Burhan has inherited her mother’s beautiful features, the high cheekbones and the gentle sweep of full lips. But the colouring was all Burhan, rich dark hair the colour of a chestnut and wide, doe-like eyes. Soft. There was a softness to her features where Caelin had a hardness, something steely beneath the beauty.

“What I mean,” he decided to be blunt. “Is that if you struggle so much with the cold, you’ll struggle as a skyrider.” There it was again, that softness. Her mouth pressed into a line, but it was her eyes that he watched. She wore her heart on her sleeve and though she tried to hide it, he could see that his criticism had hurt her. The girl would need a thicker skin.

“I still intend to try,” Elyna replied. She drew in a deep breath and coughed as the icy air burnt her lungs.

Yvan laughed, patting her on the back until she recovered. “I’m sure you do. You’re stubborn.”

“Determined,” she countered and looked up at him.

“You’re up first every morning,” he observed and turned back to watch the ship cutting through the water. “You’re the last one to go to bed.”

Elyna bit the end of her tongue, uncertain of what he expected. His shoulder brushed against hers and she found herself drawn to the warmth of his skin, something that emanated from even beneath his thick clothing. His jerkin was unfastened, and the single tie that would have closed the neck of his shirt, hung open. She could see the weather-worn skin of his chest.

“Keep it up,” he finished eventually. “You’ve got a lot to prove.”

“Yes, Sir.”

60th Day of Frost, 17th Year in the Age of Kings

Elyna loved working in the city. She had never been so excited to reach Andaris as the day her ship had docked and she and Emily had reported to their offices of the Iron Hand. They had been lucky and assigned rooms beside one another in the barracks. Though Emily quietly suspected that it was due to the letter Pavoo had sent to accompany his daughter, addressed to the Lord Commander himself.

Aware of their intentions to become Skyriders, Emily and Elyna were assigned long hours in the stables and mews. They had catching up to do in order to meet the requirements that would allow them to transfer. The Noblewoman couldn’t remember a time when she had ever been so happy.

What she hadn’t expected however, was the regularity that she found her path crossing that of Yvan Yilmaz.

The mornings were dark throughout Frost, almost as dark as the nights. And they were cold and unforgiving. Yet, determined to improve her skills and obtain her knighthood, Elyna rose before the bells each day and trudged through the training grounds to an indoor practise arena. There were very few other knights or squires around so early in the morning, with most people preferring to take advantage of the darkness and get some sleep. However, each day Elyna had found herself squaring up against the Captain.

The room smelt like sawdust, and the smoke that rose from a single brazier in the corner. She wore a woollen knitted sweatshirt over soft breaches and thigh-high boots. The snow was still melting off the toes and pooled onto the rushes that made a padded mat beneath her. The Captain was a tall man, he kept his muddy blonde hair tied back from his face and his beard cropped short. He had a strong face, she always noted, though it had been scarred over the years. What never failed to hold her attention, were his piercing eyes, the colour of fog over the sea.

He was determined, he told her, to help her unlearn the bad habits she’d picked up in Burhan. He was concerned that she’d only had one training master. They stood toe to toe and he swept his sword high overhead. She lifted her own practise weapon in a block, defended successfully though the blow made her arms ache. He swung to the right and she twisted, he dropped the weapon to swipe at her legs and she stumbled, edging back over the rushes. There was a reason that no one else stepped forward to train with Yvan. He didn’t hold back and she was clearly a sucker for punishment.

By the time they were done, sweat trickled down her back, despite the frosty weather beyond the walls. She wiped it from her forehead and looked up at the man as he stood close. He stared at her, brow knit together. “You’ll never be strong,” he observed and she felt her heart sink, “but you could be fast.”

Elyna nodded, never one to argue with authority. If their practise had proven anything, it was certainly that the man was stronger than she was, as was every other person she had sparred against since arriving in the city. She ran a hand along the back of her neck.

“I’ll work on my strength,” she agreed and tilted her head back to look at him, nervous she touched her tongue to her bottom lip, “not that I’m not incredibly grateful, Sir…”

“But?” He demanded and turned away, moving across the court to collect his discarded jacket.

“I thought officers didn’t usually stay in the barracks, but you’re here so early in the mornings. Do you sleep?”

He laughed, a low deep rumble that rose from his chest. “Yes,” he agreed, “but my wife spends Frost in her home land so I spend them at the barracks. It’s warmer than heating an entire house.”

She followed before pausing, kneeling to retie her bootlaces, “where is she from?” Elyna looked up, curious.

“Nejem,” he nodded, “she struggles to winter here.”

Elyna wondered if Renmere was much colder, curious about other lands that she had never seen. “Well…” she stood up, dusting off her hands on her trousers, “I’m grateful you’re so close at hand, and for your help.” She smiled at the man, more at ease then when she had first met him.

He watched her from beside the brazier before he approached. He reminded her of a lion as he stalked forward, his gaze fixed on her face. He stood before her once more, looking down.

“You know,” he lowered his voice, “you’d pass better as a commoner, if you had a little fun now and then.” The words tickled the top of her head and she blinked at him surprised.

“Fun?”

“What are your plans for the rest of the day Reyes?”

Elyna swallowed, looking down at her boots, her palms felt itchy, uncomfortable. “Uh…I have to report to the stables, there’s equipment to clean, lunch then we’re supposed to attend a seminar on battle strategy-”

“And when everyone else has finished their dinner?”

“I planned to head to the archery butts,” she admitted and felt her cheeks burn. Was it so bad to want to improve? She shifted her foot and looked up, startled as his finger brushed beneath her chin and lifted her face. Elyna found herself captivated by pale blue eyes, the colour of burning ice. She swallowed, her tongue too large for her mouth.

“They’re holding a party for midwinter,” Yvan told her and dropped his hand back to his side, as though nothing had happened. “Attend it, drink a little, dance, laugh and meet some of your fellow Skyriders,” he shook his head and turned, crossing back to the door. “That’s an order Reyes,” he called.

“Yes Ser.”

It was noisy, hot and crowded. The tavern was filled with skyriders, knights and sailors that were spending Frost on shore. Elyna had lost Emily early in the evening, her friend was fond of dancing and had taken up an offer from a tall young man with fiery red hair. Every so often, Elyna would catch a glimpse of her spinning through the crowd as the music beat lifted. Outside of the tavern, it wasn’t much quitter. Mid-winter celebrations were popular throughout the city. The woman had spoken to a few of the skyriders she recognised from the stables, but as the evening wore on, found herself sitting alone in one of the corners of the room, watching as everyone else chatted or laughed. She sipped on an ale, wondering if she liked the taste or if she was drinking just for the sake of it.

The room smelt like sweat, stale ale and spices. Boughs of cinnamon had been hung overhead to fend off the most offensive smells. She was cornered, the way out from her table blocked by groups of strangers and finally, she finished her drink and started edging her way along the side of the room, towards the door. She had only come because she’d been ordered to. Now, she was going home.

It was at the door that she ran into the Captain. The man rested his hands on his hips and looked down at her before taking up two glasses of an amber liquid from the bar. He pushed onto into her fingers with a smile and beckoned her outside. The rush of cool air was a welcome relief on her fevered skin as they stepped out. A few tables and chairs had been left abandoned beside a brazier. Another knight was bent over the wall, losing his dinner.

Yvan shook his head and with his hand placed gently against her back, nudged the young woman towards the fire so that they could stand in the relative peace.

“You were going to run away?” He teased.

Embarrassed, she took a sip of the harder liquor and grimaced. “What is this?”

“Whiskey,” he raised his own glass, held her gaze and winked, “you’re not such a paragon of virtue, that you’d turn down a toast?” He asked and nudged his glass to hers with a clink.

“What’s the toast?” She sniffed the liquid again.

“To mid-winter, may Bloom arrive on swift wings.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Elyna smiled.

“All in one,” Yvan encouraged and grinned when she laughed. “I mean it.”

Elyna stared at the man and studied the drink once more. “All in one,” she muttered. “To mid-winter, may Bloom arrive on swift wings.” Dutiful, she tipped her head back and downed the liquid. She swallowed and set the cup down with a gasp, bent she coughed as the man patted her back.

“Well done,” he smiled before pausing.

A tall, blonde knight sashayed through the tavern door, skirts in one hand and with a male companion, with his arm around her waist. Yvan and Elyna watched the pair of them as they stumbled off, wrapped in each other’s and vanished down the street.

“What are you thinking?”

She was surprised by how close he was and looked across at him.

“I’ll never look like that,” perhaps it was the drink that had made her bold, but she spoke openly and felt her cheeks burning again.

“True,” Yvan agreed with a shrug and looked down at her. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

Elyna glanced at the tavern before giving a small nod. Why did she suddenly wish that the man could see her that way? Tall and blonde and beautiful; confident perhaps.

They set off together, side by side through the dark streets. Everyone else was caught up in their own celebrations. Laughter, music and light spilling from houses and taverns along the way. But walking over the empty cobblestones, Elyna wondered if she and Yvan moved in their own separate world. It felt as though there was a peace around them, their own quiet bubble.

“So, you dream of being a skyrider,” Yvan broke the comfortable silence.

“Mmmhmm,” Elyna nodded and pushed her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “I like to be up high…free.”

“I can understand that…” He paused in his long, measured steps and turned to face her. Once again, he was almost too close and Elyna had to lean back to look up at him. “You’ve always felt a lot of pressure from your mother.”

“We don’t…agree on a lot of things.”

Yvan smiled at that and he rested his hands on his shoulders. His gaze moved over her face once more, taking in her features and she found herself staring back, watching his mouth.

“You could be perfect,” he said, quiet.

“Perfect?” She could hardly breathe.

“If you weren’t noble,” he nudged her hip gently with his own and she was aware once more, of just how close he was.

She found herself laughing, the sound short and breathless.

His hip against hers, knees nudging her legs. His arms gently wrapping around her shoulders. Her heart was racing too hard, too fast and despite the thick layers that she wore, the woman was sure he could hear her it beat.

Yvan bent and with his hand gently curled around her face, lost in her hair, he bestowed a kiss. A soft brush of his lips over hers.

Elyna thought she was going to faint, her eyes half-closed as he pulled away.

“What?” He studied her features, still amused.

Could he see her cheeks turning dark in the night?

“N-nothing.” She gulped, “just…no one has ever done that before…”

His smile was broad as he took her in, “I’m the first?” He lifted a brow, surprised and bent to bestow another kiss, lingering this time as he worried and teased at her mouth. “Then I’ll be the second…and seven willing, the last.”

1st Day of Bloom, 18th Year in the Age of Kings.

The Captain had escorted her back to the barracks and left her with another kiss. It had then been a few days before she had seen him again. Returning to the practise courts, she found that with midwinter passing, more of her fellow skyriders and knights were up early to train. It bothered her, in a way that she hadn’t expected that she no longer saw the man alone. But they were always in the company of others. He was distant, and he certainly didn’t bend to torture her with kisses.

The first day of bloom arrived and she stood in her barracks room, surveying the small collection of belongings on the bed. A knock at the door summoned her attention and she called out without looking. “It’s open!”

Elyna bent to stuff her jacket into the bag and reached, reluctantly for a dark blue dress that had never been unfolded. Someone moved into the room behind her and she jumped, startled to see Yvan out of the corner of her eye, where she had expected to see Emily.

“You’re going back to Burhan.” He said and it sounded like an accusation.

Elyna nodded, “summoned back,” her voice came out like a squeak; suddenly all the air left the room.

“They’ll give you your knighthood.” He told her, confident as he closed the distance.

Elyna found herself nodding, not sure if she was agreeing with his logic, or just pleased that he was moving closer.

His arms were around her and hers looped against his neck. His kiss was hot against her mouth and insistent. After weeks of wondering if she had dreamt midwinter, or imagined it, she was relieved to realise that it was true. He had felt something for her, he wanted her. Perfect, he had said. Almost perfect.

Elyna didn’t know herself as he kissed and kissed her, taking his time to explore the shape of her mouth, her taste and the sweetness of the soft noise of pleasure he managed to coax forth. His hands dropped to her waist where they pulled gently at her shirt. Her breath sucked in as rough fingers brushed her skin and heat pooled in the centre of her body. He had her quivering, eager and aching for each touch as he simply kissed her, his hands through her hair or gliding down her back. He guided her hands to his own waist, smiling as he drew back to pause.

“You can touch me…” he encouraged and smoothed her hands over the hard plane of his chest.

“Mmmhmm,” Elyna didn’t have the words to express herself. Was this sin? How could it be so wrong if it felt so good? But before the man delved any further into their passion, he clasped her hands and withdrew, pressing a solitary kiss to her forehead.

“Travel safe...I’ll be waiting for your return.”

Elyna searched his expression, her heart leaping, bounding so hard against her chest that it hurt.

“I’ll hurry back,” she promised.

He kissed her again, holding her face between burly hands. “I know you will.”

****

Elyna returned a knight, most of the way through Bloom. If she had been excited to reach Andaris before, it was nothing to the eager anticipation she felt to return to Yvan. He met her that night, stealing kisses in the shadows but ventured no further. It was hard for them to find time alone together. Yvan was posted in Warrick before Elyna was sent to Gawyne. They stole brief moments of time alone where she swore that the man tortured her with his touch and left her hungry, desperate and longing for more.

There was a brief window, in the middle of Blaze where she found herself with three days off of the roster. Yvan appeared at her door before dawn and she had followed him silently, picking up her overnight bag as she went.

They left the city behind and travelled into the countryside, stopping at an old hunting lodge that was primitive but more comfortable than camping out.

With the horses secured, Yvan had coaxed the woman to join him in the shallow river. She had shed most of her clothes and joined him. He’d been shirtless, bronzed skin glistening with the river water as it lapped around his waist. He had pulled her close and she had found herself dizzy with longing and desire. But as his hand strayed to her undergarments she had voiced her protest, barely knowing her own mind she had said it. No.

He had withdrawn and kissed her hard. They’d retreated to the lodge and eaten, drunk a little of the wine she had bought and finally retreated to the single bedroom. He had kissed her again, taking command and by candlelight, lain her on the bed. Devouring by touch and taste, each part of her as it was revealed, her clothes peeled back from creamy skin.

Was she going to pass out? Elyna wondered? Her chest was tight, stars dancing as she mewed beneath him with neither the strength nor the desire to protest. His mouth burnt a trail down her centre till he parted her knees and with hot desire consumed most intimate areas. Elyna cried out, realising, that everything that had come before, every delicious touch and kiss was still nothing compared to true desire and the power of lust.

He bought her to the edge of ecstasy and left her, waiting until she was ready to beg him and plead for his touch. Elyna gave herself willingly, with only the briefest moment of regret as he took what could no longer be given. He left her sated, spent with desire and ravished on the sheets as he drew her a bath. But first, bought her a mug of moon tea. They were going to be careful, neither of them could risk and unwanted child.

He carried her to the warm water and smoothed the muscles of her back, though she was sure she had none, that she was limp and weightless.

“It’s always better after the first time,” he promised and she had stared at him. How could it be better? This was the man that she loved, adored and worshiped. How could it possibly get better?

He had grinned then and wrapped a strip of dark satin around her head so that it covered her eyes. He whispered against her cheek. “Just tell me...tell me what feels good…”