Alone in her tent once more the warrior maiden was not sure what to do with herself. Be it rest, work on her armor or something more. The talk with Barth had gone as well as she could have hoped, at least this is what she told herself. Unable to just lie down and rest just yet, Ausan grabbed up her sword. The blade was in much need of some care, worn and battered the edge had now become dulled. It would do no one any good in its current state and she felt the simple act of care would help to settle her agitated mind and state of being.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Schink</span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Schink</span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Schink</span><br/><br/>The blade was passed across the stone before she paused to wipe the blade clean and continue once more. A metallic scent filled the air, tinged with the mixture of the metals was familiar and comforting in its own way. Just as she finished, there was a noise at the entrance of her tent. “Enter,” she called out without even a care of who it could be. The sword was gripped firmly in her hand when a pair of her sisters entered.<br/><br/>“May her fire keep you safe and fuel the speed of your blade,” the greeting spoke to her from the pair as their fist was brought to their hearts and a slight bow was given.<br/><br/>“As the fire burns within, so shall it burn without and consume the weak who threaten to extinguish the fire of the righteous,” Ausan answered back with her own bow and greeting. “Speak. What has you so worked up?”<br/><br/>Through the camp she strode, flanked on either side by the sisters who came to her, the maidan’s grip was tight on the sword at her side. It was not hard to find the man they sought. Surrounded by his men a company of archers who were hard at work on their arrows. “Sir Rendir,” her tone kept as polite as possible. “Might I have a word with you?”<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="color: #408080">Rendir turned from the conversation he'd been having with one of the archers, an older man with a dark complexion and weathered creases. He looked just a bit surprised when he saw the Maiden, but recovered quickly and acknowledged her with a stiff, "Lieutenant." The slim young man took a few steps toward her, face void of the usual guarded expression and instead displaying an openly calculating curiosity.</span></span><br/><br/>“Good, you know who I am so I don’t have to waste time with formal introductions,” she stated her eyes glanced behind him to the men who still worked. “So, I heard you approached Sen,” formed as more of an accusation than a question. “I just want to be very clear when it comes to her,” now the maiden took a step closer to make their space more personal and allowed for her to drop her voice so that just the two of them could hear. “She is not one for you to threaten or order around. She is braver than of the men you have behind you. You do not have the right to tell her anything. Save for thanking her for saving your asses,” tone a harsh whisper. “When this war is over she will be a hero and she will have a home with us where she will be honored and praised for all she has done…” her words trailed off, and she just leveled a glare at him. “A real man would be honored to share such blood with a remarkable person. Let alone having the privilege to call her a sister. Which is why she is one of my sisters and their sisters,” a nod thrown over her shoulder to the women behind her. “And the whole of our kingdom respect her and honors Sen for what she has given for us. Did you ever think to ask her about her eye? How she-“<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="color: #408080">"Presumptuous bitch," he hissed over her, his words dripping with an uncharacteristic amount of venom. "You are in no place to tell me what my rights are." His cool veneer had slipped even further, face becoming darker and stormier as her tirade continued, his eyes smouldering like green embers. "If I know who you are, it is because you are the <span style="font-style: italic">shameful mistake</span> that forced a Commander to admit fault in front of men from whom he still needs to earn respect. It is because you are the <span style="font-style: italic">brazen thug</span> that stomps around, demanding allegiance when the only thing you have to back it up is a pair of knuckles. If there is a reason that the women of my kingdom -my <span style="font-style: italic">actual</span> kingdom, mind you, not a pile of bloodsoaked ruins that I could not <span style="font-style: italic">give</span> away as a country, let alone a home- are barred from military service it is because one in every hundred will become a soldier worthy of Lebidan while the rest, the ones that don't end up in pieces on the field, will become <span style="font-style: italic">you</span>." His words came quickly, though they were far from rushed; rather, they seemed spoken with a firm emphasis that came from a mixture of past contemplation and passion. "Is it 'bravery' to flee from one's duty? Is she a 'hero' for leaving her future, the future that was planned because of who she <span style="font-style: italic">is</span> and what her family -her <span style="font-style: italic">actual</span> family- needs from her?" He took a controlled step backward, clearly making an effort to rein in the simmering hatred and disgust of his expression. "Lieutenant," he said, a little louder and politer, "You are naive if you don't believe there have been and will be talks regarding Lebidan's involvement in the relocation of your people. It may not be wise to alienate the <span style="font-style: italic">men</span> of one of it's largest Houses. I advise some <span style="font-style: italic">discretion</span>."</span></span><br/><br/>“What men? I am merely speaking to a single man, who is more like a boy. A boy who wishes to be a man, who wishes he had a pair of balls even close to the size of your sister,” she spat out. “Everyone knows that you only want her home so that she won’t make you look as weak and pathetic as you know yourself to be,” tone louder without much care now. “Think before you call someone else a bitch before you have had your chance to look twice at yourself. Your brother was something. He mattered. Sen is someone, and she matters. But when you die, and I guarantee you that you will die, no one will care. There is no honor in your words, no honor in your actions. I might be a thug, but I don’t go about threatening little gir…” she stopped herself with a grin. “Oh wait, maybe I am? But that would be an insult to girls everywhere so I take that back. Play pretend like your voice matters. I can and will say my piece to you because I do not fear you, just like Sen no longer does and never will again. She faced death. It took her eye, and she went right back in there to do it all again. So, yes. She is a hero, and you are not. Swallow what is left of your pride and deal with it, and stay away from her. When the war is over, I will personally ride up to the home of your father and present him a real hero. As I know, he will be sorely disappointed when he sees you,” the maiden smirked far too amused by this whole conversation. Honestly, she figured one of her knuckles were likely to be larger than his own balls if he had any.<br/><br/>“Anyway, Lord Rendir,” tone back to being polite. “Are we clear? Or will you threaten the lively hood and future of innocent citizens again because you don’t care for my words? Sen is no longer your concern. Correct?”<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="color: #408080">Rendir turned his back to the Maiden, his shoulders so taut with restraint that it was almost possible to pick out the outline of individual muscles beneath his shirt. He turned his face just enough to throw his voice over his shoulder. "My concerns are my own," he concluded, his words frigid and empty, and strode slowly away from Ausan. The older archer with the leathery skin took a step forward, his arms casually crossed, as though prepared to bar the way should any of the women try to follow the Brigham heir</span>.</span><br/><br/>“Not when it comes to Sen. Not anymore,” she called after him not even so much as giving the old man a second look. Just as she entered the scene, Ausan left it flanked on either side by her sisters once again. Now to find Sen and check with her.<br/><br/><div><hr style="height:2px; width:100%; border:0; color: black;background:black;"/></div><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="color: #00BFBF">Sen left the tent, holding a strip of some kind of dried meat between her teeth. Her hands were full; one was wrapped rather gingerly around a old glaive, and the other held a small tied satchel. She took a few steps, then knelt down beside some barrels and leaned the weapon against them just long enough to give the last bit of meat to an ornery-looking tomcat. Her face seemed tired, but it had considerably less of the haunted, almost sick appearance that it had shown since Borim Garth's burning. The cat snatched the meat from her hand and darted away with an ungrateful growl, but she just chuckled quietly.</span></span><br/><br/>“If you keep feeding such creatures they won’t ever leave you be,” the maiden said as she entered the scene. “How do you think I got stuck with Barth?”<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="color: #00BFBF">Sen sprang back to a stand and whirled around, obviously startled. Immediately upon seeing Ausan, her shoulders went back and her spine straightened and the alarm fled from her face, to be replaced by a slightly anxious expression. It didn't fade as she smiled. "At least he's more useful than that old fleabag," she answered, giving her head a little jerk after the ill-tempered feline.</span></span><br/><br/>“Were it not for the head jerk I would have thought you meant Barth and I would have said that you were far more accurate than you likely meant to be,” she chuckled. Though she allowed the silence to come between them for a moment as the maiden shifted her weight from one foot to the other before she spoke again. “Look, I wanted to come to you and apologize for my behavior. While what I did was called for, it was not right and I do not want you to think I am just going to go about doing that whenever I am pissed,” she paused, hands at her sides fidgeting a bit before she finally spoke again. “Verana was family. My sister by more than just blood and losing her like that through the actions of a coward. It hurt and I did what felt right to do. Now, I know that to not be the case but I will not lie and say that I would not do it the same way if given another chance. It is who I am…” her armored shoulders rose and fell in a simple shrug. There was not more she could say on that matter and she figured if Sen thought otherwise she would either say as much or keep it to herself.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="color: #00BFBF">"There is no need for you to apologize," Sen answered after a few moments of quiet, her voice soft and rather gentle, mismatched eyes searching the Maiden's face. "You must know by now, none of your -our- Sisters find fault with your actions. I don't think anyone from Linden does, honestly, and the only reason many people from my country would accept your apology is because you stole from them the opportunity to end him themselves." She took a slow step forward, suddenly looking just a little hesitant. "She was easy to love," the younger woman started, moving a hand to set on Ausan's shoulder as though she were extending it toward a docile-seeming cobra, "I meant to say this earlier, and I know it might not mean much, but... I'm sorry for your loss."</span></span><br/><br/>“Thank you,” a half smile, nearly a smirk graced her lips as she ignored the bit of hesitation that was seen before she rested her hand on her shoulder. Though to be fair most would have hesitated and just stood there with a look of a fool on their faces. “Your words mean a lot, especially where you refer to the sisters as<span style="font-style: italic">our</span>and not mine. They are your sisters now as much as mine and well, I made that point very clear when I spoke to your brother a bit ago,” Ausan chuckled though a look of disgust did pass over her face before she continued. “I think I may be trouble later for what I said, but…” the maiden shrugged. “At this point, I almost feel like like I am on borrowed time and I am not about to waste any of it on being afraid of the likes of your brother. I will give him credit, though,  the two of you share that fearless determination. That might be why you frustrate him so?”<br/><br/>A meow from below drew her gaze to the cat that felt the need to rub against Sen’s leg for more. The action caused something in her boot to shift just enough for a bit of light to hit it. From there is was not hard at all for her to know just what that was there. A chill, like a spike of ice, settled into the pit of her stomach.<br/><br/>A sigh left her lips her arms allowed to cross over her chest, a subconscious action to hug herself. “Where did you get that?” her head used to nod down at the knife in her boot.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="color: #00BFBF">"Hm?" Sen dropped her hand and glanced down, chest expanding with a deep breath as she looked up again. "The Prince felt that I should have it," she answered in a quiet but steady voice. "He gave it to me just before that last bit of Garth business."</span></span><br/><br/>Her tongue slid across her inner lip, heart, and soul torn by a sense of betrayal and heartache. “I see…” is all that was said on that matter. Ausan determined to not break in front of the young woman, for if she did Ausan was not sure that she could control herself. Throat cleared, she rocked back on her heels for a bit, “Tomorrow is likely to be hell. So, try to take it easy, alright?” Voice cleared again, “We all have to sleep at some point and if we do not rest we cannot be at our best for Barth. Which is what is important yes?” forced humor and friendliness in her voice, even though at that moment she just wanted to scream.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">No wonder he had been so closed off to me. There was someone else. Why else would he give Sen a weapon that was so sentimental to them both if he did not favor her to some degree?</span><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="color: #00BFBF">Sen tilted her head just a bit, obviously a little confused by the new tightness in the Maiden's voice, but she readily returned the smile. "Of course! You should try to get some rest as well, Lieutenant." She wrapped her long fingers around the old polearm and stared at it for a moment, her smile fading to sad introspection. Her voice came again, even softer. "Thank you... for not condemning my brother. I'm sure he wasn't exactly amiable or polite, but he's not a bad man." She turned her head up to the late evening sky, gaze strangely focused, as though she alone could see something in the empty air. "This fighting has changed him. Is changing him. The same as it's doing for everyone else, I suppose." The willowy Sister gave her head a little shake and flashed another smile to Ausan, the hand holding her satchel coming up to her chest in a sort of informal salute. "My apologies. Goodnight, Sister."</span></span><br/><br/>“Goodnight,” with that she was gone the salute returned in some fashion before the Maiden retreated to her tent.<br/><br/><div><hr style="height:2px; width:100%; border:0; color: black;background:black;"/></div><br/><br/>Come the morning the camp was abuzz with news that there was a group of Tutar that appeared to be there to surrender. Dead inside is how she felt now that Ausan knew where his heart laid. It was Fiona all over again, only this time Ausan kind of liked Sen. At his side she stood like she always did. The bodyguard…the<span style="font-style: italic">thug</span>. There to do the hard things that Barth will not or cannot do. Until he was done with her and then he would be off to ride into the sunset with Sen at his side. At his nod, Ausan merely strode to where Cameron held the reigns to her mount. The old horse grateful to see her again, “Hi Symas…” she cooed and clicked to the horse who tossed his head in excitement. “Ready to go for one last ride?”<br/><br/>At Barth's side, she rode, without sword or shield. With practiced ease born of years in the saddle, Ausan swayed with the pace of her horse, eyes focused forward not even a look to Barth once they were underway. Toward an uncertain future that held far less hope and happiness that it once did for the Maidan.