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2012-12-07
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2015-04-08
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18/19
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I See What You've Made Me

Chapter Text

'The King is dead,' a voice said. Lydia met the woman's eyes, Callie, she recalled, a southern diplomat. 'Prince Vernon now sits on the throne of his father.'

'Long live the King,' Derek said quietly beside her. Lydia said nothing, she had known the old king, had even been treated to a few words of his wisdom from time to time. He used to tell Lydia he could see the power in her eyes.

'Thank you, I shall pass on your regards,' Callie nodded. Derek nodded back. 'May I speak frankly?'

'Please do, they prefer it that way in the North,' Lydia said setting aside her sadness at the loss. Danny snorted behind her.

Callie nodded her thanks. Lydia couldn't help but notice strands of grey in her once raven hair, and lines around her eyes. 'At the funeral of his father Boyd heard...rumours, and a little later he was approached to make an alliance with the Lord of the Plains,' Callie looked to Lydia.

'And?' Derek asked, but he had turned tense. Lydia wrapped her pinkie around his and he leaned an inch closer to her.

'And he spoke at length with his wife, their family and his royal advisors. Despite no land touching we have good relations with the North, he decided, and we profit well from trades, however we have no need to turn against our brothers on the Plains either. The King has decided that, for now, he will remain neutral,' Callie smiled softly.

'I'll not ask for his help then until I really need it,' Derek said.

'If something terrible were to happen does Boyd indicate where his allegiances might lie?' Lydia asked. There was a moments silence; a few heads turned her way.

'Well no envoy has travelled to the Plains. Now, the ship out there is full of medical supplies, fruits and nuts, and some silks. Several medics are also with us, they're keen to spend a winter in the North to see what all the fuss is about,' Callie said.

'Thank you, make sure the King understands how grateful we are for all of this,' Derek said.

'Of course,' Callie smiled then turned to Lydia. 'The Queen has also sent a private package and letters to you.'

'I haven't been able to respond to her last letter,' Lydia admitted, thinking of her friend.

'She's a very understanding woman,' Callie gripped Lydia's hands. They ate a plain meal after that and then Derek went to the docks to oversee the unloading of the ship while Callie went to rest in her rooms.

-

Lydia was sitting at a desk by the large windows of the viewing gallery when Scott joined her.

'The prisoners are asking for you,' he said. 'So are the wounded, and the people of Northport. It seems like you've made quite the impression.'

'How is Danny?' Lydia asked. The funeral was to be held later today. Lydia had watched a great tomb be opened earlier that morning, and had bowed her head along with her companions in respect to those already entombed inside.

‘He’s good, he’s been arranging a feast in celebration of his father’s life, he and his mother have been with their bard deciding what tales will wish him the best farewell,’ Scott said.

‘And you, how have you been?’ Lydia asked. Scott turned to look at her and a soft smile covered his face.

‘My father died last Winter. We never got on well until months before he died, we bonded then but I’m afraid it was too late for us. He was slain during a skirmish,’ Scott looked across the bay. Lydia followed his gaze to the trees being whipped in the wind, the ocean swelling in anger, great sprays of white rising from the rocks below. It was a beautiful place, with the ocean on one side and great mountains behind them now covered in white. The waters were ice cold, and the days were so sharp her fingers and toes ached if not wrapped up properly.

‘Winter is harsh here,’ Lydia said as she gazed out the window, ‘in more ways than one.’

‘It’s certainly not forgiving. You’re doing well, Derek’s very proud of you, you do know that?’ Scott said.

‘Derek’s proud of what he’s shaping me into,’ Lydia said.

‘It’s not Derek doing the shaping; you’re the one changing him. Before you Derek was dark and sourly, he was focused and determined on training and fighting and very little else distracted him. He’s been preparing for battles his whole life, and then you arrived and I have to say, you made a difference, our home, our family is stronger with you at our side,’ Scott reached out and squeezed her shoulder.

‘I didn’t think I had that much of an impact,’ Lydia said. Scott turned to examine her face, his eyes roaming over her.

‘You don’t realise how powerful you are, do you?’ Scott asked. Lydia’s mouth fell open and she stared at him unable to speak. How was she powerful, she was just a girl married because she was pretty, because something unknown to her tied her to the North in ways unimaginable? This power everybody saw, Lydia wished she felt on ounce of it. Perhaps, one day they would discover she was a fraud and all this power would crumble to dust.

‘Scott,’ Derek spoke. Scott turned to look at his brother, and Lydia checked over her shoulder. Derek was dressed in dark clothes, his hand on the hilt of a sword. Lydia followed Scott to where Derek stood, and accepted her husband’s arm. ‘Danny’s asking for you.’

‘Yes, sure, of course,’ Scott swallowed. Derek caught his elbow and squeezed it.

‘If you need me,’ Derek said. Scott nodded and wrapped an arm around Derek, hugging him close.

They followed Scott outside, arm in arm, and Lydia pulled her thick shawl around herself as the wind whipped her hair out behind her. Throngs of people were already making their way to where the funeral pier stood, and Lydia stuck close to Derek. She recognised a few faces, looked away when Jordan caught her eye and curled her body close to Derek’s.

‘Are you okay?’ Derek whispered softly, so quiet his voice almost got lost in the wind. She longed to press herself into his skin for warmth.

‘No,’ Lydia admitted. Derek pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her waist as they walked. She ignored the fact that Jordan fell into step with them. Derek didn’t acknowledge him, but he did pull her closer as they came to the pausing crowd. Derek led her through the crowd, and they parted easily, until they were almost at the front. Lydia looked over her shoulder to the closing crowd and found Jordan moving in their wake.

‘Lyds,’ Derek said in her ear but he was moving her so she was in front of him. Her back was sheltered against his chest, and she was grateful for the arms wrapped around her.

The Bard started to speak, telling a tale of the life of the President of Northport. From birth to death, he spoke of victories, his strengths, his family and the legacy left behind. The day cooled, and Lydia was almost shivering as the body was entombed. Many were crying around them, and Derek bowed his head in respect to a man he was no doubt familiar with.

After they went back to the feast hall, and the Bard spoke again, this time announcing that Danny would be the new President until his challengers arose forcing a vote. Derek was picking at bread when he ducked his head.

‘He won’t be challenged, the people love him more than they loved his father, more than they love us Hales,’ Derek said dipping bread in a sauce and offering it to her. Lydia ate and looked up the table to where Danny and his mother smiled gently, obviously sharing a memory.

‘How can you tell that?’ Lydia asked.

‘They rhyme about him in taverns around town. Danny’s a nice guy, his father was fair but he was stern. Danny’s just as fair but he has a touch that his father was missing,’ Derek said.

‘He’s good with Scott,’ Lydia said.

Derek hummed. ‘Yeah, that’s another reason he’s so popular. Everybody loves Scott, their relationship makes them both stronger,’ Derek explained. ‘Are you cold?’

Lydia shivered and Derek grinned. His arm was warm around her waist as one of the serving maids set a large jug in front of them. Lydia poured Derek a cup first, and then herself. She was keen to taste the lightly steaming liquid. It was delicious looking amber and Lydia took a dainty sip. The spices tingled on her tongue immediately. ‘I like this!’

‘Of course you do,’ Derek said taking a mouthful of his own as sweet pies were placed next to her plate.

'What happens now?' Lydia said. Derek exhaled slowly.

'I don't know. We have no idea when the next move will be made, and honestly, no Northman wants to go on the offensive during winter. I would like to travel the boarders and ensure our garrisons are solid but with the weather starting to turn I'm afraid we'll be too late and end up trapped ourselves. No army moves in winter,' Derek said.

'What about Northport?' Lydia wondered.

'Scott and his men will strengthen the garrisons here, and I'd leave half of my battalion here,' Derek stuck his tongue into his cheek.

'So will you send the rest of the men home or take them to strengthen the boarder?' Lydia asked. Derek was smiling at her and Lydia quirked an eyebrow in response.

'I think you're definitely trying to take the North,' Derek teased.

After the meal Derek led her to the viewing room where the Northport maps lay. The boarder was relatively short, only a few hundred miles or so. Northport was to the east, while the waters on the west were treacherous with ice and unpredictable shallows. It was impassable, madness for an army to even consider crossing it. The waterfolks lived there but Lydia knew very little about them. The Great North River ran to the south from the mountain range.

'There are four main garrisons which protect the border,' Derek explained. Lydia followed his finger. She vaguely recalled a stone bridge over the river when Derek had brought her here following their nuptials, and there were further garrisons to the east and to the west.

'What about the coast?' Lydia said.

'It's impractical for an attempted landing. Most of our coastline on the east is high cliffs, there's only one beach and that's protected by Northport, the river mouth above Northport is protected by a strong garrison and canon,' Derek wrapped an arm around Lydia's shoulders and kissed the side of her head.

'The west is full of the waterfolk,' Lydia glanced up at him. Derek smiled.

'Yeah, pleasant bunch,' he muttered. He stood contemplating the map for a long moment. 'Do we stay here or ride for the boarder?'

'How long have we got to complete this journey before we're trapped and unable to return home?' Lydia asked.

'It's unpredictable. Technically it's still Autumn, so we need to travel to the west first. The journey shouldn't be too troublesome yet,' Derek shrugged a shoulder.

'Then I think we should go at first light, but that's just me,' Lydia said.

'I agree, but let's consult with a few others,' Derek said.

-

'I don't like it,' Scott pouted.

'You never like it!' Derek said.

'I think it's a good plan. We can't know where they'll go next, but I wouldn't leave half your battalion here, I'd leave probably a quarter, and then those willing to stay. We Northport folk are resilient; the oldest citizens will beat invaders with walking posts if I asked them to!' Danny said.

'Can't you split your battalion? Visit all of them in one swoop?' Lydia asked.

'If there's a war on I'd like to acknowledge each one personally,' Derek said.

'Sir,' a voice said. 'An eagle, for you,' the young woman passed a scroll to Derek. Lydia noticed Peter's seal on it. Derek broke it and read the note, a smile forming on his face.

'It's from my Uncle, informing me that Laura intends to visit the River garrison and the Eastern cliffs Garrison,' Derek looked up.

'You Hales frighten me,' Danny admitted. Scott grinned and pushed against Danny's side.

'So we ride west, I'll leave two companies here, you'll hardly need mounted troops?' Derek said to Danny.

'Nah, foot soldiers are best,' he said.

'Okay. I'll take the rest west,' Derek said. 'I need to see the twins, Isaac or Braeden if they're around, and I hear Parrish is back.'

'He was in the brig of one of the ships that were boarded,' Danny explained.

Derek made a humming noise. 'I'll need him too. The waterfolk like him for some reason and I can't imagine why myself but they have their reasons.'

'So, we ride?' Lydia asked.

Derek grinned down at her. 'We ride.'

-

Oddly, the weather broke, and in the morning a cold night gave way to clear skies and pleasant autumn sun. Lydia tangled her fingers in Torr's mane and enjoyed the steady thrum of his hooves as he trotted along the dirt road.

'How long will it take?' Lydia asked as Derek drew beside her.

'At this pace, travelling light, the day after tomorrow,' Derek said.

'Hey!' A female voice called. A woman Lydia had never met joined them.

'Good morning,' Derek said with a wide smile. The woman smiled back.

'So the weather has been good, a few flakes of snow, mostly ice for the past few days,' she said. 'It's been quiet Derek, too quiet. I don't like it.'

'Quiet?' Derek said. The woman pulled her horse to the side and Derek followed. Torr turned towards them and Lydia let him walk. For the first time the woman looked at Lydia, and then looked back to Derek.

'There have been fewer bandits, less pirates. I don't know it's odd,' she said.

'Like something big is being planned?' Lydia spoke.

Derek didn't speak but the woman was looking Lydia's way. 'Okay, thanks Braeden.' He said eventually. They re-joined the troops. Lydia had never met Braeden before, but she'd heard a lot about her.

It was almost dark when they made camp around a small town. Derek and Lydia were offered a room in the mayor’s house and Lydia expressed her gratitude. Derek’s good mood from the morning had sobered, but he pecked her cheek goodnight and draped an arm over her waist as they fell asleep.

Her second night wasn't so comfortable; she spent it in a village hall in Derek's arms, his body a furnace she depended on for heat. 'Hey,' a voice said.

'Jordan,' Derek said. Lydia tensed and Derek stroked her tummy with a warm hand.

'We should be there by noon tomorrow,' Jordan said laying his bedroll close to Lydia.

'I should hope. This weather reminds me of our days as new recruits,' Derek said. Jordan grinned over at him.

'Long summer days hunting bandits and pirates, and the gods giving us some good weather to see us back home before the winter got bad,' Jordan said.

'I remember the first year I took command it wasn't so good,' Derek said.

'We got caught in a snowstorm, holed up in that little village. The pub landlady, what was her name?' Jordan said.

'Gina,' Derek said fondly. 'She gave us this warm drink, never had it before, and hasn’t had it since. I swear, a few of those and you would be napping on the table,' Derek told Lydia, dropping a kiss onto her cheek. 'You've met my wife Jordan?'

'She saved my life,' Jordan said gazing at her. Lydia glared back.

'Is that right, well I'm glad you saved his life sweetheart,' Derek kissed her neck, his scruff tickled her skin.

'I'm happy that you're happy,' Lydia said, but Derek understood her mood it seemed because he tightened his arm around her.

'You know she saved my life too,' Derek said. 'She saved my life the day she defied her father, and every day since.'

'Ugh, get a room,' Jordan said when Lydia turned to kiss him.

'We tried, they're all out. And it's never bothered you before,' Derek said.

'You've never been married before,' Jordan said.

'He's just jealous because I won't share and you won't flirt back,' Derek told Lydia.

Lydia hummed and pulled Derek in for another kiss. 'I'm tired, be quiet you two and go to sleep, I'm not the only one you're keeping awake with your reminiscing,' Lydia scolded. There was a chorus of chuckles and snorts around them, and then Lydia was pulling Derek’s arms around her. Jordan lay down and met her eyes. Lydia smiled, soft and gentle, and then Derek was edging closer, and his heat was relaxing her into a comfortable state of sleep.

-

'This one is pretty, too pretty for you,' the woman said. Her cool fingers stroked Lydia's cheek. Lydia shivered, her skin felt damp, and the webbing between the woman’s fingers was hard to ignore.

'Clarette, mind your manners, she's Derek’s wife,' Jordan said.

'You could be my wife,' Clarette said. Lydia snatched the woman's wrist as her hand drifted lower.

'I'll stick with Derek, thanks all the same,' Lydia said.

'Your loss beautiful,' Clarette backed away with a curve of her lips. Lydia wanted to scrub her face but instead she ignored the urge and turned to where Derek was watching with an amused glint in his eye.

'You handle yourself well,' he told her.

'So, what's happening?' Lydia asked when Derek slid an arm around her. He guided her away from the main throng of people to a staircase.

'There's nothing unusual to report apparently. This place is strong, although I'll leave the twins and two companies of men here. I believe there's more than enough food and drink for the winter,' Derek explained.

'What if they don't attack?' Lydia said.

'They will, but I suspect it'll be spring. No one would attack in winter. They'll lick their wounds and come back at us,' Derek guessed.

They entered a dark hall with a rough wooden floor. The windows were dusty and the tapestries on the walls had seen better days. A large fire burned in the hearth where an old man sat hunched in his seat, a rug over his knees. He was muttering to himself but when Derek arrived in his view he stopped to look up.

'Ha! I thought I'd be dead the next time I came face to face with you, filthy little bastard,' he crowed. His pale eyes found Lydia and roamed her body. 'Is this another of your whores?'

'This is my wife,' Derek said.

'Wife, whore, they all do the same thing, and they’re either complaining of a sore back or sore knees!'

'You're rude,' Lydia said.

The old man laughed and so did Derek. Lydia turned a glare on her husband. 'I'm a twisted old bastard who refuses to die, of course I'm rude girl, and I’ve learned the art of not caring what other people think of me!'

'That's no excuse,' Lydia said. He stared her out then turned to Derek.

'Northport was attacked,' Derek said.

'I'm old not stupid you dumb fuck!' The old man practically shouted.

'Your son is dead,' Derek said. Lydia watched him turn his face to the fire. 'Danny's in charge now.'

Lydia looked from the old man to Derek. Was this really Danny's grandfather? This nasty old coot who sat miserable and alone?

'My son was an idiot! A fool! He knew nothing of war and battle, but Danny, he's a good boy. Is he married?' The old man asked.

'No, but his lover is with him. I suspect they'll marry next year,' Derek said.

'If I die-'

'There's a letter for Danny in the safe in the Northport vaults,' Derek said.

He grunted, and his attention drifted back to Lydia. 'I'll bet she's a screamer,' he said.

Lydia's mouth fell open but when she turned to Derek his eyebrows were pinched. A horn blew outside. 'We need to leave.'

'I meant what I said. And boy, keep hold of her, she's a better leader than any of you goddamned Hales ever were. She'll make your children leaders, you mark my words!' The old man said. He looked to Lydia and his mouth curled.

'Are you this rude to everyone?' Lydia asked. The old man shrugged. Lydia leaned across and pecked his cheek. Behind her Derek outright laughed but Lydia was walking away.

'I meant what I said about the screaming!' He called. Lydia was tempted to flip him the bird but she knew he wouldn't see her, and besides, it was a kindness she decided, giving him the last word.

-

By the time they arrived at the River garrison their numbers were depleted more. Derek's mood had darkened and they barely spoke. He was brooding over something and Lydia wanted to know what. Jordan was flirting openly with her but Derek either didn't notice, or didn't care. Lydia had to admit the attention was nice, because Derek’s lips were sealed in a scowl.

'Look at the snow clouds,' Jordan said next to Lydia as they gathered in the yard. Derek was talking with a woman on a horse, both of them looked grim. Above them the sky was indeed heavy with cloud.

Children scurried past them, and a blacksmiths hammer could be heard. Every time the tavern door opened the smell of stale ale tickled them, although most looked longingly inside.

'Laura's almost here,' someone called out.

'How long will it be until she arrives?' Jordan asked.

'Ten minutes I'd say,' the answer came.

'We'll stay here tonight,' Derek said although it was obvious they weren't moving on.

'How has it been?' Lydia asked. Derek's look was sharp when he turned to her.

'Unsettled; there have been a few skirmishes with bandits. That's not normal this late in the year, but they're uncomfortable, worried I think,' Derek licked his lips.

Somewhere a horn cried out and moments later Laura was leading her soldiers through the gates. Derek was first to greet her with a hug, and then he was hugging Kate. Lydia watched as he shared quiet words with her, laughed, and hugged her again.

Furious Lydia turned away only for Laura to catch her in a hug. 'Are you pregnant yet?' Laura teased.

Lydia glared at her but Laura laughed. 'Let’s wet our throats!' A cheer rang out but Laura was taking Lydia by the hand and pulling her to the main building behind where Derek and Kate walked. A few followed them and then they were in a room with a warm fire. Lydia hadn't realised how cold she was until the heat made her fingers and toes tingle. Everybody took a seat along the wooden benches. Lydia found herself next to her husband who barely looked at her, and Jordan, who wouldn't stop flirting.

Ale and food arrived and all around her conversations were merry. They were riding home tomorrow despite the wind whistling down the chimney, and everybody was in high spirits.

'So what made you agree to marry that grumpy bastard anyhow?' Jordan asked Lydia at one point during the evening. The food had long since gone and they were left with cups of wine and mugs of ale.

'Don't be rude,' Lydia admonished with a smile but Derek was turning. He swung a leg over the bench and leaned across Lydia's back.

'If you don't stop flirting with my wife I'll break both your arms,' Derek said. Lydia turned to scold him but his lips caught her ear. 'We need to talk. In private.'

He stood and Lydia rolled her eyes. Kate winked at her but Lydia merely turned away, she could hear Kate’s laugh as she walked away. Derek escorted her into a room. There was a small wood stove, a chair and a bed fit for one person. A hand caught her wrist, and then Derek was kissing her like he was starving. Lydia let him lift her and pin her against the door, but she fisted her hand in his hair and pulled his head back as she hooked her ankles around him.

'We're not doing this until you tell me why you've been sulking all day,' Lydia said.

Derek snorted and buried his face in her throat. His beard tickled her skin, but his lips soothed the harsh touch. 'Because I couldn't touch you. You look amazing in that saddle, and every scornful look you send to Jordan does something to me that - I just wanted you all day, and I've felt like a selfish bastard for it,' Derek kissed underneath her ear.

'Jordan-'

'Lydia, we'll talk about that later,' Derek said turning her back to the bed.

It squeaked in protest, Lydia discovered. In fact every time they moved it squeaked, loud and brash, and Lydia would have been affronted except for the fact that she was pinned underneath her husband and it felt amazing to finally be alone with him. Afterward as they lay together, Lydia reflected how this bed was the perfect size for the two of them right now. By the press of Derek's hips he seemed to agree.

'Derek, tell me what's been bothering you all day?' Lydia said, praying she hasn't broken the spell, but Derek just pulled her closer and kissed her shoulders.

'We'll talk at home, we'll be home soon,' Derek muttered. Lydia laced her fingers with his and pressed into his body, and she couldn't help but wonder what secrets he kept locked in his heart.