Eris
Over the past week, I've been trying to figure out how I'm meant to get out of bed when I wake with her in my arms, and I'm still coming up blank. Well- get out of our cot, that is.
I'll be the first to admit I'm not a huge fan of camping. I certainly liked the luxuries that came with baths and beds and... indoors. But hey, it's not too bad to sleep in confined quarters when I'm sharing them with her.
"Nephele," I murmur into her hair, stroking the strike of her spine. "You need to wake up."
"Shhhhh," she fumbles to clamp a groggy hand over my lips, not bothering to open her eyes. I chuckle under my breath, wrapping my fingers around her wrist, and moving her hand to settle a kiss on the base of her palm.
"We sort of have an army to lead back to the capitol," I remind her casually. "But I'll just let them know you need five more minutes."
She groans grumpily, propping her chin up on my chest to glare at me. "It's a bit early for sarcasm- even for you," she tilts her head into her hands, still staring up at me grouchily.
I brush a stray curl out of her face, her hair wild with yesterday's mileage. "I can't help it- same as how you can't help being adorable first thing in the morning," I reply, cradling her face in my fingers.
"Flattery wins you this round, Hot Stuff," she grumbles, slipping off my chest. She pads across the room, letting me enjoy the view as she bends over into our small luggage, digging for today's garment before she unbuttons her loaned shirt. I clear my throat, peeling my eyes off her bare back as I rake my fingers through my unruly hair. She wouldn't mind me watching, but I think I might lose my mind if I watch any more.
I busy myself into changing my own clothes, switching out yesterday's brown trousers for a trimmer fit, made of tanned leathers that padded around the sculpt of my legs. The top was of the same fabric, same structure, sleeveless and leaving my arms bare as it hugged my torso. I fastened my sword to my hip.
Yesterday was about look regal for our speech with our men, but today, we were meant to look like warriors. I always had a bit of difficulty with that if I'm being honest. Sure, I could hold my own with a blade, and I was by no means without flame, but I've always been a politician. My greatest power has always been my brain, deceptive and cunning.
Neph dressed as the warrior she was beneath the queen that Prynthian knew and cherished, dawning structured grey leggings and a matching top. Its sleeves were full, sheer panels running up the underside of her arm same as they did on her fleece lined pants. Her boots were black and silver studded, matching the silver daggers that strug up her thighs with amethyst hilts.
She turns towards me when she finishes, only to find that I'm fully dressed, staring at her in some sort of trance as she attempts to pin her hair up. She looks me up and down then, raising a single brow, her gaze focused solely on my legs now. "I approve," she taunts, stepping closer as she finally secures her hair, her gaze flicking over the slide and sculpt of my bare arms.
I roll my eyes trying not to smile as she slides her hands up my bare arms, appreciating the sway of the muscle corded beneath, her fingers a feathering touch. "And I'm a fan of the knives," I reach down, tightening the black holsters on her thigh, chuckling at her surprised yelp at the sinch.
She rolls her eyes as I slid my fingers up her body, twirling her framing curls around my finger. "Ready to go?" she raises a brow at me, squirming a bit beneath my touch. It's always fun when I can shake her.
"Mm," I murmur, pressing a slow kiss to her lips, unable to help myself. "Five more minutes," I whisper onto her lips, the kiss deepening as she slips her arms around my shoulder.
A little over five minutes later, we pull ourselves out of the tent, hoping nobody notices how rumpled my hair is, her kiss swollen lips. And just like that, we're off, Nephele making jolly conversation with Hopkins as we march. I'm more interested in watching her, the glow of her face as she laughs at his tales as a general, holding my arm to her body as we walk.
I would hesitate to look so in love with her, fear it would make me look weaker to seem so fond. That is, I would hesitate if she weren't the most badass woman in Prynthian. How could I look weaker for admiring her? For having the strongest woman I've ever met seemingly devoted to me?
"Right, Eris?" She looks up at me, and I can't for the life of me remember what we were talking about.
"Sure," I reply, zoning out on her face again. She looks prepared to roll her eyes again until someone stumbles into me from behind, nearly knocking me over.
Hopkins whirls. "Soldier-" he prepares to scold, but I hold a hand up.
"It's alright," I reply, stepping away from Nephele to steady the man who keep his head down, cloaked though it is not all that chilly today. "Are you alright, sir?" He didn't look alright. He looked sickly, swaying, smelling of whiskey and mania. I know these times have t been easy on these soldiers. The least I could do is make sure he's alright.
"Fucking spectacular," the soldier responds, a callous and familiar laugh. I have no time to react before I'm pulled to the man, a knife kissing my throat.
Lev.
Swords are drawn from all direction, all marching stopped as my eyes find my brother's. "Lev," I grunt, careful not to let my throat bob as blood already drips gently from the slim slice. "Lev, don't do something you're going to regret. You're drunk. It doesn't have to be like this." I always knew we'd see him again, but I guess I never thought it would be like this.
He laughs manically, and my eyes find Neph's, hers wide with terror, her hand clamped over her mouth. "It does," he clicks his tongue. "You don't get it. They picked him. They picked him and threw me away like I was nothing more than trash."
I have absolutely no clue what he's talking about, but I'm certain it will make less sense if I ask him to elaborate. "It's okay, kid," I tilt my head to look at him. My little brother. So far gone. "It's gonna be okay."
He cries in frustration. "You know what, Eris? You're right. It is okay," he laughs again, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "It is okay because I'm finally taking my birthright by the balls. I should thank you, actually. You gave me a way. A way to becoming High Lord." His eyes flick to Neph, and my sympathies dissolve.
"What are you saying, Lev?" I manage, my eyes still on Nephele, communicating that she should back up. Of course, she doesn't listen.
"You've made a High Lady," he chants happily. "And with you gone, all it will take is a marriage, and I'll be everything that they never thought I could be."
"Stand down," Neph murmurs to the guards, who hesitate a fraction before obeying. She takes a cautious step forward, triggering Lev's grip to visibly tighten. "Lev," she slips her dagger into her holster, putting her hands up. "I just want to talk, okay?" She steps forward a half step.
"Don't come any closer!" Lev screams. "I'll slit his throat!"
"Nephele, Sweetheart," I murmur, meeting her eyes with a bitter smile. "It's okay. Don't get yourself hurt."
She outright ignores me, looking at my brother instead. "It doesn't have to be like this, Lev," she says gently. "Let him go. We'll take care of you." It's a lie. I can see the murder in her eyes.
"You'll take care of me?" He murmurs, voice breaking.
"We," Nephele corrects, glancing at me. "Eris and I."
Lev chuckles. "Everyone makes me the runt of the litter," he clicks his tongue. "The bitch of the pack."
"We don't think that about you," Nephele says gently, only I notice the clouds looming overhead. Her gaze flicks to me, and I give her a discreet nod, telling her to do what she needs to do.
"Yes, you do," Lev insists. "Well, I didn't infiltrate camp for some frilly position in court that my big brother gives to me like his least favorite toy. I came here to become the Damn High Lord of Autumn."
"I'm not going to let you kill my husband," Nephele says calmly, her eyes storming with fury.
Lev cackles, hiccuping, breaking into a cough. He wasn't well, and I doubt he ever could be. I never did like giving up. "You don't have a choice," he sneers at my wife. Nephele sighs outward, accepting that there is only one way.
"A quick death is a mercy," Nephele says cryptically, lowering her hands. "And there's nothing quicker than lightning." She lets her hands drop, curling into a fist as lightning sprays from the sky, striking Lev directly in the skull as I elbow out of his grip, driving the dagger into his sternum.
He crumples, mouth falling open in slight shock as he drops into my arms, a tear sliding down his cheek. "You were never runt of the litter," I murmur, kneeling over him as I fold his hand into mine. He resists my tough weakly, but I keep his fingers in mine, holding on. "I know father raised us to think we were no more than dogs, but you were always my brother. Always. And I'm sorry I couldn't save you."
He doesn't say anything- I wish he would. All I have is watching him as she bleeds into the dirt, Nephele gripping my hand as the light leaves my little brother's eyes. I refuse to shed a tear as I rise I my feet, telling Hopkins roughly that we have ground to cover. Soldiers step around the body as I light fire to him, turning what once was my blood and kin into ash. Maybe in another life, with another upbringing, Lev could've been good, could've been right, but not in this lifetime.
This time, Nephele and I don't walk with Hopkins or Nesta as they stare after us in utter confusion, Cassian swooping down to see what happened. No, Nephele and I walk ahead of the pack, never looking back as our army follows.
As we march on.