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Chapter Fourteen
These boots weren’t made for walking
Wherein our heroes are out of the woods, literally this time, meet a familiar face and go clothes shopping
The woods on the 4th Kingdom side of the border had a more cultivated air to them, less wild and statelier. Sydney was walking next to Julian and had a hand on his sword hilt, absently sliding it in and out of the sheath as she thought. She rather liked the snickt-ing sound it made. She was broken out of her musing by Julian’s warm hand over hers on the hilt, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand.
“Darling, do you mind?”
She grinned saucily at him, “What? You don’t like me handling your sword?”
His eyes glittered at her, “Not in front of your father.”
She smirked at him but removed her hand, deciding she better tell him about the slight change in their plans, “I was talking with my dad and he pointed out it might not be the best idea to just up and disappear.”
“I see,” he neutrally replied.
“I can resign as soon as we get home then I’ll just have to serve out my time behind a desk,” she frowned at that thought. “That’ll also give me time to tell my friends that I’m going into Witness Protection.”
“Witness Protection?” he raised an eyebrow at her.
She made a face at him, “Don’t mock, it’s the best idea for why I won’t be able to keep in contact, though I can ‘smuggle’ some letters through my dad.”
“How long will you have to stay at the Agency and are you certain they’ll put you on desk duty? You are their golden agent after all.”
“I’ll see what my dad can arrange, but maybe two months. They’ll have to put me on desk duty, I’ll probably be stuck with boring, out dated paper work,” she frowned again, it was going to be so boring, “They’ll want any security issues I know to be outdated before I can leave.”
“Good.”
She scowled at him, “How is any of that good? Do you know how boring it’s going to be?”
He shrugged unconcernedly, “You’re pregnant, you shouldn’t be out on missions and if you’re not spending all that time traveling then we can get together during that time.”
She smiled and slipped her hand into his, “That’s true, though we’ll have to be very careful; it won’t do to have the Agency find out about us.”
He snorted, “Please, the two of us versus your Agency? And I’m assuming that since Jack hasn’t shot me that he’s, reluctantly, conceded with our plans, and isn’t intending to turn me in.”
“He’s not going to turn you in, though he still might try to shoot you,” she glanced over her shoulder at her dad, who was, for the moment, looking relatively placid.
“As always, I’ll keep a wary eye on Jack.”
“That’ll probably be a good idea,” she smiled.
Gradually the trees thinned out, until they emerged from the forest, into a picture perfect pastoral scene of gently rolling green and yellow land stretching out to the horizon. They stood there for a moment adjusting to the brighter sunlight and gazing around at the neat, stone encircled, cultivated fields dotted amongst the still wild praireland. Deciding it was a good as spot as any they sat down to eat a quick meal of their gradually depleting victuals. They struck out in a northeasterly direction and soon happened upon a road.
It was kind of depressing, trudging silently down the road, as no one made any comments. Personally her feet were killing her and she really wanted a bath. She did like the boots but they weren’t made for running around the uneven ground of the forest for extended periods, however, when one is more worried about being chased one doesn’t notice the uncomfortableness of shoes. Now, however, the fact that they’d been almost constantly on the move for the last several days was getting to her and to everyone.
She was discreetly running a hand through her hair, she needed to wash it, when Marshall spotted a horse and wagon approaching from behind them. They scrambled off the road and held a hasty conference where it was decided that Sydney was the least threatening appearing and the most persuasive. As the guys hung back Sydney stood on the edge of the road to flag down the approaching wagon.
She peered at the driver of the wagon, a dark haired matronly woman, and frowned as she seemed vaguely familiar. The wagon was already slowing down but she raised an arm and waved at the woman, her memory clicking into place as the wagon drew to a halt in front of her, allowing her to greet the woman by name, “Hello Mrs. Ramley! I don’t know if you remember me—”
“Of course I do dearie!” Mrs. Ramley jovially greeted her, “You and your young man rode with me and my daughters to visit the King’s castle.”
“That’s right,” she smiled up at the woman and tucked her hands behind her back, switching her ring from her middle finger to her ring finger. The sounds of the others walking over had her making introductions, “You remember Julian and this is my friend Marshall and my father, Jack.”
Mrs. Ramley beamed delighted at everyone from her perch on the wagon bench, “I suspect you’re wanting another lift then?”
“If it wouldn’t trouble you greatly,” Julian replied from her side.
“I can give you a lift as far as my hometown. We’ve a fine inn you can stay at tonight and I’m sure you can find someone willing to give you another lift in whatever direction you’re headed,” Mrs. Ramley cheerfully told them. “Why don’t you sit up front with me dearie?”
Sydney climbed up onto the wagon bench as they guys climbed into the, thankfully, clean wagon bed. Everyone situated Mrs. Ramley got the horse moving again and prattled on about how she was coming back from selling a few lambs and how it was fortunate that she decided to clean out the bed of the wagon before heading back home. Sydney relaxed on the seat, glad to finally be sitting down, and half heartedly listening to Mrs. Ramley ramble on about how one of her daughter’s had gotten married to a Peep boy, from the good side of the family, and how another of her daughter’s had run off with a blackguard from the 1st Kingdom. Suddenly Sydney realized she was being spoken to directly.
“If you don’t mind me saying so I so pleased to see you
traveling with your father.”
“Oh, uh, thanks,” she hesitatingly replied, not quite sure why that was something of note.
Mrs. Ramley winked at her, “I sort of got the impression last time that you and your young man had run off to get married.”
She blushed and could practically feel the fridge blast from her father’s glare at Julian. She floundered for something to say while she could hear Julian explaining to her father, in Russian, that they’d only pretended to be married. Mrs. Ramley spoke up before she had formulated a reply, “I didn’t know your young man was from the 5th Kingdom.”
The odd question baffled her for a minute until she recalled that the Nine Kingdom’s strongly resembled Europe, in a squished and distorted sort of way. The 5th Kingdom was roughly where Russia would corresponded in her world, then she was bluffing her way through a response, “His parents were, but they moved when Julian was very little, and though he was taught the language he doesn’t really have the accent.” She bit her lip.
Mrs. Ramley accepted her story without any hint of reservations so she glanced over her shoulder to check on her father and Julian. Apparently Julian had finished his explanation and it met with her father’s approval because he was leaning nonchalantly against the side of the wagon. A glance over her other shoulder showed her father sitting stiffly on the opposite side of the wagon and looking grim, but not more so than usual. He glanced up at her then and barely perceptibly nodded at her, telling her that the ‘marriage’ situation had been thoroughly explained.
Before facing forward again she smiled at a tired looking Marshall seated next to her father. She made a mental note to pick up some history books to read before she and Julian finally settled down here, there was a lot they didn’t know about the land or customs.
“So dearie, any little one’s on the way?” Mrs. Ramley winked at her.
She didn’t reply, her face suffused with colour and her ring seeming to thrum smugly.
The remainder of the trip was filled with Mrs. Ramley gossiping about people she knew and they’d likely never meet. They turned down the lane to Mrs. Ramley’s hometown, Little Lamb Village they were informed, just as the sun was nearing the horizon, their long shadow cast on the road in front of them. They were passing through neatly, cultivated fields and pastures filled with white, fluffy sheep attended by young girls with shepherd crooks. She glanced behind her and had to smother her smile, Marshall had fallen asleep, his head resting on her dad’s shoulder. She turned to glance over her other shoulder at Julian who was wisely averting his eyes from the scene. The slowing sinking sun cast a surreal glow over his profile and she unabashedly soaked up his image. He was leaning nonchalantly back against the side of the wagon, managing to sit despite still having the sword belted around his waist, one hand was resting negligently on the hilt while the other arm was resting atop a bent knee. After imprinting the image in her mind she looked ahead.
They’d find an inn to stay at tonight and that meant a warm meal, a cleansing bath and a soft, real bed for once. She wondered why the horse was going so slow.
Mrs. Ramley cheerfully dropped them off inside the village proper and pointed them towards the ‘Baa-Bar’ where they could find good food and rooms for rent before waving and continuing on her way.
They took a moment to get their bearings before moving in the direction indicated. There was a bit of a crowd, with everyone good naturally jostling each other. There were also a lot of young girls walking around with sheep on leashes of all things. Her father and Marshall were ahead of them when a gaggle of girls in short skirts and tight tops with daring necklines walked by them, lambs in tow. Julian’s head turned to follow them and she slapped him on the back of the head.
“Ow!” he gave her a dark look.
“Don’t even think about it,” she warned him.
“But you’d look darling in an outfit like that,” he contested.
“Looks like something I’d have to wear for a mission,” she muttered, but fresh, new clothes would be nice to have after a much needed bath.
“Please?” he cast sad, pleading eyes at her. She didn’t even know he could do that.
“I’ll think about it,” she heard herself say, still befuddled by his eyes.
There must have been some conspiracy against her because they caught up with her dad and Marshall stopped in front of a clothing store. Framing the shop door were two large windows, one side filled with female mannequins sporting the popular style of short skirts and tight tops, and the other window was filled with male mannequins in much more sensible attire.
She gave her father a questioning look.
“What is the state of our monetary funds?”
“I really need a bath and some new clothes,” Marshall self-consciously stated.
“We all do,” she smiled at him.
Julian pulled out their ‘Golden Wendell’s and counted them before declaring, “It might be best if we procure lodgings first then see what’s remaining for clothing purchases.”
They proceed to the ‘Baa-Bar’ where Julian haggled with the owner for two bedrooms for one night, including use of the bathing rooms, dinner and breakfast. She stood slightly behind Julian and smiled or batted her eyes at appropriate places. The price would eat up most of their funds, not leaving enough for everyone to obtain clothing, but she was afraid they were going to have to accept it when the owner casually suggested he’d take Julian’s sword and they’d call it even.
She wanted to protest, she rather liked the sword, but the idea of a bath and an actually bed tonight kept her mouth closed. Julian hesitated a bit, most likely wondering how valuable the sword was and if they’d be getting short changed, but he handed it over, receiving keys for two rooms in exchange.
Her father accepted a key for the room he and Marshall would be sharing, “I suggest we leave our things in the rooms then go see about new clothing and freshening up before dinner.”
That agreed upon Marshall and her father left to find their room and she was about to do the same with Julian when he stopped her, “Why don’t you give me your pack and I’ll take them both to our room.”
She stared at him puzzled, “That’s alright, I don’t mind going up, I want to see the room.”
He slid an arm around her waist, pulling her against him and tipping his head to whisper into her ear, “If we both go up now we might not come down again for a while.” His other hand which had been resting on her hip slid down and round, cupping her bottom.
“Julian!” she feigned outrage and shifted her hips against him slightly.
He nipped at her neck and she yanked on his curls, pulling his head around so she could plaster her lips against his. He pulled her even closer against him and insinuated his tongue into her mouth. She moaned into his mouth not caring that they were making out in the middle of the inn’s front room. He was right though and she broke away from him before they made a bigger scene.
“Here,” she breathless handed over her pack. He accepted it, his hand lingering on hers longer than necessary before he left to find their room.
She impatiently jiggled her foot as she waited for him, everyone, to return. She decided that she’d indulge in his little fantasy and besides, when in Rome…
The four of them made their way back to the clothing shop and along the way her hip accidentally bumped into Julian’s several times. He was apparently having his own problem’s walking as his hand kept accidentally brushing her butt. By the time they reached the shop she was ready to haul him off to an alley and do sinful things to him.
Fortunately for the sake of decency the shop was divided in half, men’s on one side and ladies on the other, thus separating her and Julian and preventing any public indecency.
She wandered through the clothes not sure where to start. The tops and skirts were in a wide variety of colours, mostly pastels, and not really her usual style. She turned around and jumped back as there was an entirely too perky lady standing behind her.
“Hi! Do you need any help with anything?”
She decided to treat it like getting dressed for a mission and let someone else dress her. “Um, what do you suggest?” she regretted it as soon as it was out of her mouth. The shop assistant practically squealed and began pulling items off hangers for her to try on.
She quickly settled on an outfit if for nothing else than to get away from the annoying assistant. Her dad was already standing by the counter, a neatly folded pile of clothes on the counter top. She set her clothes next to her dad’s and glanced behind him, “Where are Julian and Marshall?”
“They’re still choosing clothes.”
She rolled her eyes, “He’s such a clothes horse.”
“Actually Sark’s helping Marshall chose new clothes, he didn’t think much of Marshall’s sense of style,” her dad divulged.
She laughed, perking up as Marshall and Julian came around the corner and joined them at the counter.
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