“Rhien,” Rhien supplied.
“Well met,” Ava said with a friendly grin, one inviting enough to rid Rhien’s stiffness, and she motioned beside her as she sat back down. “Will you join us?”
“For a minute, thank you,” Rhien agreed, dropping down next to her. “I watched some of the tournaments today, you were splendid.”
“You’re very kind,” Ava said, and added with a chuckle, “although I’m afraid it was me and not the sword that was rusty.”
Rhien laughed, her lips pulling into the genuine kind of smile that Ava’s friendliness so easily brought about. “I’d not have noticed,” she complimented, “I envy your skill.”
“Are you a warrior?” Ava asked.
“No,” Rhien answered, turning on her seat more to look at me. “To be honest, that’s why I’ve come. I have a request…” I studied the expression on her face, how she looked more reluctant to make her request now than she did when she told me she wanted to apprentice with the blacksmith. When I stayed silent to let her speak, she said, “I’ve heard rumors of you going to seek a dragon.”
I straightened out of my relaxed position. She wasn’t truly about to ask what I thought she was… “Rhien,” I protested.
She didn’t let it prevent her from saying, “I want to help.”
But she wasn’t a fighter. She’d spent the better part of her life with a faction of peaceful mages, never learning to battle or wield a weapon. “Your magic is limited to—”
“Self-defense, I know,” she interrupted readily, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t be useful. Look how much I’ve helped you already.”
It was how much she’d helped already, how kind and how good of a friend she’d been to me that made me so reluctant. This was dangerous, especially for someone who wasn’t trained in battle, and that made me afraid for her. “That was the masters,” I replied without thinking, because they’d been the ones to reacquaint me with my magic, but I regretted it the very moment her eyes narrowed with offense. She appeared so hurt by that disregard for her support that she didn’t even know what to say, so she just sat there, wavering between her determination to help and the obvious desire to walk away. “I’m sorry,” I said immediately, sighing as I bent forward to set my elbows on my knees.
There were a few moments of silence before Rhien murmured, “That was unfair.”
“I know.” I sat up again, turning on my seat so she could see the apology on my face. “I’m sorry. You have been an incredible help, and a better friend than I’ve deserved. But that’s the root of my fear, Rhien. I’m not worried about your usefulness to me. I’m worried about your safety.”
“As I worry about yours,” she replied, “and Ava’s, and Nira’s.” Her brow furrowed with desperation. “As I worry about every person going to fight at Cornwall, or every person here whose lives have been ruined by this war. Every person who’s been thrust from their home or lost someone they loved. I never got to apprentice with the blacksmith. I’ve done nothing for this rebellion, but I need to. While I still have the chance. Please, let me give back.”
All I could do was watch her indecisively. It was enough stress already that Ava and Nira were coming. Just because I’d readily let them accompany me didn’t mean I wasn’t worried about them, but at least they could protect themselves, and attack if they needed to. They could fight. If something happened to Rhien… I couldn’t lose even one more person that I cared about to this war. I just couldn’t.
Before I could make up my mind, Ava’s hand landed on my thigh. She met my gaze, offered a small smile, and said, “Perhaps she’s not so delicate as you seem to think she is.”
I felt my face soften with recognition as those words sank in. I’d learned so quickly not to underestimate Ava, and had been taught the same lesson when Nira asked me to make her an archer. Was it possible I was making the same mistake with Rhien? After all, did she not know best what she was capable of? What she could protect herself from, or what she could contribute? As much as I wanted for her to be safe—especially now that we were so near the end of this war—this wasn’t my choice to make.
“Will you promise me that this isn’t a whim?” I asked Rhien. “That you know the dangers of what we’re doing?”
“You have my word,” she said. “I can handle it. My magic may be limited to self-defense, but it’s enough.”
I nodded my consent, slightly comforted by her confidence. “We leave at first light.”
“Thank you!” She nearly vibrated with excitement, but I could see by the hopeful light in her eyes that it was about more than adventure. She was glad to be doing something for the people at this mountain who were like her. “Thank you.”
“Now’s the time for celebration,” Ava said. “Are you going to dance?”
“I am,” Rhien answered, her chin tilting down bashfully. “In fact, that nice warrior is saving one for me.”
She threw too brief a gesture behind her for it to be specific, but I could tell who the rebel was. It was a modestly attractive woman with short hair and battle developed brawn, and when she saw Ava and me lean to look, she passed an easy salute our direction. I shifted my grin on Rhien, and she returned the knowing smile with a blush coloring her cheeks.
“Go,” I chuckled. “Get yourself more than one dance. Don’t let us keep you any longer.”
Rhien stood and grabbed one of each of our hands, giving them both a joyful and grateful squeeze. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
When she was gone, I turned my cheerfulness on Ava. “Are you ready to dance too, Little Will-o’?”
“Are you eagerly volunteering?” she teased. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
“I’ll have you know,” I began with mock offense, standing and offering my hand, “that I quite enjoy ones I’m familiar with, and without the pressures of impressing nobles.”
She took my hand and rose from her seat, lips pulling into an amused grin. “Well then, on account of never being taught folk dances at the castle, you’ll have to show me the steps.”
I gave an assenting nod, glad that she didn’t seem nearly as self-conscious about being unfamiliar as I’d been in Ronan. She followed me out into the crowd, to where our family were still enjoying themselves. With the combination of the ale I’d drunk and my elation at being with Ava and seeing my family so happy, I felt a deep seated contentment that I hadn’t experienced in a long time, and it only grew. Every time Ava messed up one of the lively and fast-paced steps and laughed at herself. Every time our brothers pulled us apart from each other in order to get some attention of their own. When Nira partnered off with Ava to adapt a Ronan dance to the music, and some of the Ronan refugees joined in. Even when Nilson dragged me to him so that we could perform the steps we’d created to entertain ourselves one slow winter so many years ago.
There was energy and mirth and fun, things that had been a rare commodity these last months for everyone here. Things that had been rare for me, and most certainly for Ava, and I didn’t know how much I’d needed this until I danced and laughed so much that I worked myself into a thirst. I snuck away to grab a mug of water and leaned against a wall while I replenished myself, taking the opportunity to watch. Only, watching how happy my family was offered such a different and satisfying view that, even after I’d finished drinking, I couldn’t bring myself to rejoin them.
Nilson and my mother looked healthier than I’d ever seen them, Ava looked happier, and Nira and Akamar appeared more content than they’d been these last five months. I wanted nights like these more often. Wanted there to be days they all smiled so endlessly and danced so tirelessly. Wanted this war to end so we could stop worrying about safety or food or hiding, so we could go home and be a comfortable family again, and so Ava could be a part of that. But we had to end this war first, and I had to ensure that every one of us would be around when we did. Despite the warmth and contentment in my veins, I felt that concern at the very depths of my soul, with a severity that rooted itself more every second I watched.