Flickering Embers

one; hoarfrost

Mairenn didn't need to look at him to know that his eyes were trained on her.

She knew how she looked, especially to him. Her hair was no longer carefully twisted and pinned, but rather tightly braided by one of the other women. Her black fighting leathers, which had been pristine only two weeks ago, were now tarnished and dirty. Her once delicate pianist hands had become calloused from the hilts of weapons, and she knew that the look in her eyes had changed.

She was no longer the naive and spineless princess sitting upon her throne in the comfort of the palace. That had been ripped out from underneath her, leaving her scrambling to find a new place in the world. She'd learned very quickly that finding your place was for the idle and weak. You had to carve your in own place in the world out of tears and blood. And if there was one thing she'd learned, it was that there was always more blood to be shed. She ran a finger over the callouses on her palm, finding strength in the hardened bits of skin. Not beauty, as she had once wanted, but strength.

"A thought for a thought?" Her eyes flickered over to Fionn, who had been standing unwaveringly beside her during her silent vigil over the army spread out in the valley, the last embers of their bonfires dying. The people had fallen asleep hours ago after the generals had gathered to hopelessly plan and see the odds stacked so astronomically against them. They'd left with their heads low and their steps small only half an hour ago. Since then, she'd stood on the crest of the hill and watched her people, her people that she sent to die, her people that slept and would perhaps awake tomorrow for the last time.

Thought for a thought had been a little game they'd played during their magic lessons, a give-and-take system that had brought them closer during their relentlessly long hours spent together. She lifted her hand in front of her face, watching as she willed a thin layer of frost to crawl from underneath her fingernails, up her arm, and underneath her leathers until it met her shoulder. Immediately, her shoulders untensed. Using magic on such frivolous things dulled its edge, prevented it from lashing out. She'd learned that the hard way when she was young. Distant memories of frostbitten servants and doors frozen shut flickered through her mind like the water wraiths in Lake Doranelle, there one moment and gone the next. She focused back in on the present, on the field before her and the general standing next to her. She offered up a thought.

"I'm thinking that there's no way in hell that we're winning this war," She flexed her frosted fingers, deadly nails of ice extending from her natural ones. "I'm thinking that we promised all the people in this valley a victory they will never see," She dropped her arm back to her side, the ice already melting and dripping into the grass they stood over as her control shook. "I'm thinking that my father was a fool to assume that we could wage war with the King of Darkness and, in the end, fill the country with light. I'm thinking that my ice and wind will not aid me in this fight. I'm thinking that you were better off planning with the other generals for all these months than fruitlessly training me."

There was a long moment of silence as she could see him gather his own thoughts. He had always been a man of few words. When he did speak, it was only after careful thought and consideration. She supposed that was why her father had volunteered him to train her. She had always been brash and near wild, only tamed by the years of etiquette lessons pushed upon her. It was rather ironic, considering the fact that she controlled ice whilst he commanded flame.

Even though she had changed so drastically over the past nine month, he had remained the same, unwavering like a stone in a river. It was a comforting thought, that someone could come out the other side the same as when they had gone in. After her father had died, Fionn had unwittingly become her support and anchor. Still, even rocks in the river began to weather away. The Fionn that came out the other side would not be the Fionn she met all those months ago, no matter how much he would try to hide it from her. He had never fooled her, even when she was indolent.

"I'm thinking that you're right, we're not going to win this war. I'm thinking that letting you anywhere near this inevitable massacre will be betraying your father's memory, and I'm thinking that you need to get some sleep." His words snapped her out of her thoughts, her attention falling back onto his words. Honesty, that had been their first promise to each other. Terrible truths were better than kind lies.

"There is nothing you can do to keep me from fighting tomorrow," She spoke, unmoving despite his obvious dismissal. Subconsciously, she tilted her chin upwards, the grace that lingered in all of her movements obvious there. "I will fight alongside my people and if I must, I will die alongside my people. I will pay any price for them to see tomorrow's sunset."

"Don't say that," He reprimanded softly. "Reckless oaths like those are what lead to the downfall of nations."

She drew her lips into a thin line, beginning to walk away to her tent. "Kanticia is no longer here. If she was, my father wouldn't have died."

"I know."

She was twelve paces away before she responded, "Goodnight, General."

She didn't turn back, "Goodnight, Your Majesty."