Bonus Scene - The Fight

“Come on. What’s taking so long?” Aela’s wooden blade cut impotently through the air as she made a couple of practice swings, feeling the unfamiliar weight of the weapon in her hand and the cumbersome volume of fabric from her skirt around her legs. There was no time to change into something more practical, but she'd make it work.

“I’m coming!” Bryn appeared at the arched entryway, shrugging off his jacket as he jogged across the sawdust of his private training arena. “Sorry. Mason accosted me as soon as the council meeting was over to talk about new training drills.”

Late afternoon sun streamed in through the windows of the arena, which looked out over the king's gardens. The descending chill of winter had frozen most Niellan plant life bare, leaving only spindly branches. This far east, the flowers continued to bloom. Aela had arrived in Dunwald early that morning, but thanks to their packed calendar of formal duties, she and Bryn had barely snatched this twenty minute window together. Both yearning to move their bodies after sitting through meeting after meeting, they’d agreed to come down here and spar. These precious moments alone were not to be squandered, but Aela paused. She was interested to know how the Dunwyan army's troops were developing under Commander Mason Tanner’s leadership.

“What new drills?”

“Didn’t ask,” Bryn replied as he hung his jacket on a hook at the wall and picked up a weapon of his own. “I told Mason if I was late, you’d run me through with that sword.”

Aela ran her hand up the rounded edge of the practice sword. “I’d have to club you to death with it.”

Bryn smirked. “Are you just going to stand around and talk about it?”

“You’re the one who's late,” Aela reminded him. “I can only assume you dragged your feet because you’re afraid to fight me. Have you lost your edge? All this time at court instead of in training probably has you out of shape.”

Bryn threw back his head and laughed exaggeratedly. In one smooth motion, he pulled his loose white shirt over his head, revealing the chiseled planes of his bronzed stomach. Aela was sure he was tensing his bicep as he threw the shirt aside and ran a hand through his tousled blonde hair. She was suddenly struck by the urge to do a number of other things with Bryn that didn’t require a weapon.

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart.” Bryn’s teasing waylaid her mind as it veered towards explicit fantasies. He winked, infuriatingly confident as he moved into a ready stance. “Don’t let me distract you now.”

Aela raised her eyebrows and gestured at his perfectly-sculpted stomach. “That’s a cheap trick.”

Bryn shrugged. “Whatever it takes to even the playing field.”

“Oh, you think we’re even now?”

The dull blade in Bryn’s hand sharpened her senses. Her training kicked in and she stood perfectly still, tracking the subtleties of Bryn’s movements. He lunged and Aela parried left effortlessly. Blocking again above her head, she allowed Bryn to gain ground before spinning away from his third strike, forcing him into a defensive position as she attacked at the edge of his line of sight.

Their wooden blades cracked together hard. They’d broken countless practise weapons this way. Aela preferred training with blunt steel rather than wood, but Bryn was vehemently against it. He knew how it felt to accidentally injure her in a fight. She didn’t want to put him through that again and besides, these matches weren’t about training as much as they were about having an outlet.

The impact of wood striking wood echoed around the training room, and Aela raised her voice.

Conversationally, she said, “How was your council meeting?”

Bryn ducked her blade and tried to come up under Aela’s guard. She jumped backwards so the tip of Bryn’s weapon missed her chest by a hair's breadth.

“Oh, you know,” Bryn replied casually, even though he was practically yelling to be heard. “Same as always – one complaint after another. The councillors are anxious that we’re paying farmers to shift their land borders. And the farmers are anxious because they’re all afraid we’ve given their neighbour a better deal.”

“Anarchist Underground still causing teething issues, then?” Aela asked, dodging as Bryn’s blade sailed wide past her right shoulder. “Your aim’s terrible today!”

“I haven’t trained in a while,” Bryn replied defensively as they broke apart for a brief respite. “And yes, despite our best efforts not to encroach on occupied land, we had to redraw more private borders than first anticipated. Eight farms in all. The owners aren't happy, but most of them have been comforted by the hefty compensation. You ready?”

“You should’ve told me,” Aela said. "I’m ready."

"I wasn’t keeping it from you." Bryn’s voice jolted when Aela attacked first this time and he was forced to meet her blow, bracing his left hand on the weapon's rounded shaft. "I just didn’t want to entrust that sort of information to a messenger."

The news that Aela and Bryn wished to restore the One Kingdom and rule together had both Dunwyn and Nielle in states of mild unrest. Most of the activity in protest of the reunification was benign and easily quelled, like compensating farmers financially so Bryn could reallocate land in Dunwyn’s southern centre to Splinter as promised. But they were walking on thin ice. They needed to navigate the months ahead carefully, and locking down their communications when they were apart was essential to the strategy. Aela missed Bryn desperately, as a confidante and an advisor, as well as a lover.

She feinted to his right, and he moved to block, leaving his left side wide open. With one smooth, strong sweep of her blade, Aela knocked the back of Bryn’s knees, hitting his legs out from under him so he landed on the floor, his strong belly rising and falling with exertion.

"You’re dead," Aela said triumphantly, then gasped in surprise as Bryn grabbed her legs through her skirt and pulled, shifting his grip so he could guide her down on top of him.

Suddenly, she was breathless with the feeling of her body flush against Bryn’s, the softness of the bare skin at his abdomen as her fingertips stroked up his body. Aela leaned forward, capturing Bryn’s mouth with hers, gently biting his bottom lip before deepening the kiss, winding her fingers through his tangled waves of golden hair.

Bryn rolled, shifting their weight until he was on top of her, straddling her hips with his knees, pinning her in place with the pressure of his body and the wonder in his eyes.

"I missed you," he said, his hands skating down her arms.

His fingers untucked the hem of her shirt and crept beneath the fabric to wrap his hands around her waist. He ran a teasing touch over her breasts and she shivered.

"We don’t have time," she whispered.

Bryn groaned. "You’re such a killjoy."

His hands ran over her torso, stroked the curve of her hip. His touch travelled down to gather up her skirt, questing between her legs, light fingers brushing delicately up the skin of her inner thigh.

"Bryn!" She shoved at him. "Someone’s going to walk in on us!"

"I have an idea." Bryn's weight left her and he pushed to his feet, grabbing her hands and pulling her up after him. He tugged her towards a curtain in the corner, a tiny stall where Bryn could change clothes before training. Shoving the curtain aside, Bryn led Aela into the confined space, pressing her up against the back wall. The curtain fell back into place, shielding them from prying eyes and Bryn took Aela's mouth in his. She shuddered at the press of his tongue against hers. His hands skated across her hips, finding the waistband of her skirt. He took the hem of her untucked shirt and tugged it over her head.

The momentum dislodged her headband and Bryn pulled it the rest of the way off, sinking his fingers deep into her short waves. He traced glancing, tantalisingly soft kisses across her jaw, punctuating each one with quiet words. His low voice sank deep into her body, want coiling in her stomach, fuelled as much by his touch as his words.

"When I'm bored in meetings," he said, "or lying in bed at night. This is what I think about. Touching you. Kissing you. Running my fingers through your hair. I love your hair. I love you."

He gathered up her skirt and anticipation flared in Aela's chest with the familiar, insistent pressure of his mouth on hers. He swallowed her gasp, his fingers returning to stroke her inner thigh. A fresh pulse of desire crested at the sensual contrast between his rough fighter's calluses and gentle caress, light as silk, as his fingers travelled upwards to the most sensitive part of her. He began to trace light, teasing circles there and she arched her hips towards him, wanting.

"I missed you," he murmured against her lips. "I miss you so much."

"I miss —" Aela broke off with a ragged breath when Bryn pulled away and dropped to his knees in one smooth motion, hooking his fingers into her waistband and pulling her skirt and underclothes down to her ankles.

His hands were rough against the skin as he smoothed an insistent touch up her legs, pushing them apart. Bryn looked up at her, his beautiful golden eyes wickedly dark in the low light of the stall. "This is much easier when you're wearing a skirt. It's a little selfish that you usually insist on wearing trousers when we train."

Aela sank her hands into his hair as he shifted his angle, turning his head to press glancing kisses up the curve of her thigh. "You're right. I should start fighting in a skirt more often. Not that you'd have any greater chance of — oh, fuck —"

Her body seized with heady pleasure as Bryn tongued the sensitive area between her legs, sucking lightly before beginning to trace slow, languorous circles with his tongue. Her body pulsed and she pushed towards him, hungry for more.

"Bryn," she murmured. "Oh, gods —"

He slid a finger inside, curving it gently, massaging in time with the movement of his tongue. Aela's knees buckled with a fresh, overpowering wave of arousal. A second finger slid inside and curved deeper. Bryn held her hips in place against the wall with his other hand as he quickened the pace of his touch and his tongue.

Blood pounded in her ears and she was barely conscious of how painfully tight her grip was in Bryn's hair. Needing more of him, she unclenched her hands and fumbled to cup a shaky hand under his chin, guiding him to his feet. The aftershock of his touch lingered and her supercharged skin reacted as his cock, hard in his trousers, pressed flush against her. Bracing his hands on the wall on either side of her head, Bryn delved again into a deep kiss, his tongue sweeping her mouth, his teeth raking over her lip so her spine tingled. Aela fumbled impatiently in Bryn's trousers, drawing out his leaking cock, feeling fiery heat in her hand. Bryn's breath sawed out of him when she ran her thumb over the slit and he thrust into her hand.

Slowly, then faster, Aela pumped her hand up and down his shaft, which was already rigid from pleasuring her. She gave a startled yelp when he grabbed her waist, spinning her so her belly was pressed against the wall. His hand wrapped gently around her throat, fingers brushing her sensitive skin and wringing a gasp from her lips. His hands moved to cover hers, fingers circling her wrists and pulling them from the wall, pinning them behind her back so she writhed helplessly at the excruciating pleasure of his lips teasing beneath her jaw.

His breath danced over her skin. "Don't tell me I've finally defeated the Reaper of Dunwyn." The raw arousal in his low voice reached all the way into her gut, sending another desperate surge of want pulsing through her body.

"Like I said," she replied breathlessly, "you're resorting to cheap tricks."

When he released her arms, she braced her hands against the wall, bending forward as he pulled her hips towards him. A short laugh escaped her when she stumbled clumsily over her discarded skirt. It was undignified, but she couldn't bring herself to care. All she wanted was Bryn.

The wet tip nudged at her as Bryn lined himself up, then pushed gently inside. She gasped with the sensation of it, his whole length sliding in slowly, then pulling back, almost to the tip. He pushed in and out again, savouring every moment, leaning in to brush a delicate, lingering kiss behind her ear. The mingled sensations made her skin tingle and her hearing dull. As the pace of his thrusts quickened, his hand dropped between her legs again, circling his fingers over her sensitive skin in time with the pounding of his cock inside her. Aela leaned forward onto her forearms as the pressure intensified. The individual sensations were difficult to identify – Bryn's hot gasping breaths against her neck, the growing speed and pressure of his finger circling the most responsive part of her, his cock, pushing deeper, harder faster.

"I love you."

The desire in his voice drove her over the edge. Orgasm ripped through her body, obliterating her thoughts and overpowering her with sensation. Bryn gasped again into her neck and his body shuddered, then ground to a halt. Aela turned her head as, still inside, Bryn pressed a messy kiss to the corner of her mouth. His racing heart thudded against her back.

"I love you too," she murmured.

Soft voices echoed somewhere along the corridor outside, approaching the training room to shatter their solitude.

"Shit," Bryn muttered. Sniggering, he withdrew and towelled himself down with the tail of the curtain.

"Bryn!" Aela hissed reproachfully, haphazardly pulling her clothes back on.

"What?" Bryn said. He hurriedly laced himself back into his trousers and pulled the curtain aside for Aela. "I'm the king – it's my curtain!"

"Bryn? Are you – oh, fucking gods!"

Aela’s earlier prediction of an interruption materialised in the form of a dark-haired, blue-eyed nine-year-old, frozen in the doorway at the sight of them emerging, somewhat debauched, from inside the stall. Bowie slapped a hand across his eyes and turned his back on them.

"Whatever you were doing in there, I don't want to know about it!" he said.

Torn between embarrassment and amusement, Aela covered her mouth with her hand as Landon appeared behind Bowie.

Innocently, Bryn held up his hands, barely managing a straight face. "I don't know what you're talking about." His eyes whipped around the room. "Now, where did I put my shirt?"

"Can you believe them?" Bowie said to Landon, who was blushing fiercely. "His Highness should double your pay."

When Bryn had written Aela to tell her he'd appointed Landon as Bowie's guard, she'd struggled to imagine how her polite, reserved friend would be able to cut through the boy's thorny exterior and build rapport. To Landon's credit, though, whatever he'd done had worked. Bowie was more relaxed around Landon than he was with anyone else, except Bryn.

"He already gets hazard pay for putting up with your smart mouth," Bryn shot back, grinning. "What do you want, little man?"

"Mason asked us to come and get you. You two are running late for your next meeting."

This meeting, at least, would be more interesting than most of the conversations Aela needed to have while visiting Dunwald. Since construction began on Hiver castle, once the centre of the One Kingdom, ensuring the safety of the workers, and the merchants who transported building materials to the site, had been a constant logistical challenge. Aela enjoyed strategising and making security plans; it felt like coming home, more akin to her old life as a military commander than the politicking and small talk her role as queen usually demanded of her.

While Bryn crossed the room to retrieve his shirt and jacket, Aela went to grab her practice sword, which lay discarded on the ground.

"I can do that, Your Majesty." Too fast, as usual, Bowie had already reached Bryn’s weapon and picked it up, holding his hand out to take Aela’s sword from her.

"You still any good with that?" Aela asked him, sweeping her weapon to the ready.

Bowie moved with familiar precision, a neat four-stroke sequence that was perfectly executed but hardly offensive. Their blades tapped delicately together before Bowie withdrew and held out his hand again, indicating for Aela to hand over her weapon. It was a clear message – the fight was over. A little disappointed, Aela flipped the sword in her hand and passed it, hilt-first, to Bowie. Bryn joined them, pausing to ruffle Bowie’s hair.

"Thanks, kid." Bryn tossed Landon a wink as they went past. "Sorry about that."

"I saw nothing, Highness." Landon was still bright red, but when Bryn looked away he shot a smirk in Aela's direction. Her own face grew hot; Landon might be too professional to say anything in front of Bryn, but she was fully prepared to be mocked mercilessly by both Chase and Mason as soon as Landon had the opportunity to gossip.

Aela’s fingers brushed Bryn’s as they went through the archway and began climbing the stairs back to the great hall. In a low voice, she said, "Does Bowie still train?"

She'd never say it out loud, but Bowie giving up fighting would be a terrible waste of talent, although she completely understood why he might never wish to pick up a blade again. She longed to work with him and hone his potential.

"Gods, not you too." Bryn nudged her with his shoulder, grinning. "Please remember that he's nine. Mason walked in on Bowie and I sparring last week and I thought she was going to petition me to lower the army's recruitment age on the spot! Actually, he told me he went a few rounds with Landon yesterday."

"And you weren't there? He must really trust Landon."

Bryn chuckled. "He loves Landon. If I'm honest though, I'd prefer he spent less time with a weapon in his hand and more time with his head in a book."

"He has his head in a book plenty."

"I try not to pressure him one way or another." Bryn shrugged. "You know how he is. I don’t want him to convince himself I expect something of him."

"You're good for him."

"I could be better." Bryn sighed, his fingers intertwining with hers. “Another meeting."

“It’s what we do,” Aela replied. 

“Sometimes, I wish we were back in the forest, travelling together.”

Aela snorted. “Getting captured by mercenaries and jumping off waterfalls and almost falling into a pit full of spikes.”

“It sounds so unromantic when you say it like that. I mean, I miss being together. Just you and me.”

“Bowie was always there too.”

Bryn rolled his eyes. “Why are you determined to make my fantasies so much less exciting?”

He grabbed her hip, spinning her so that her back collided with the wall, knocking her momentarily breathless. Bryn braced his free hand on the wall beside her head, lifting their joined hands so he could brush his lips over her knuckles.

Releasing her hand, he brushed his thumb across her cheek, leaning in close until his lips brushed her ear and pleasure trickled down her spine.

“Tonight, we can spar again, but this time in the bedroom, with no interruptions.”

“You’re so desperate to lose to me again?” she asked, a little breathlessly.

He chuckled softly, pressing his lips against hers. “Sweetheart, I don’t think either of us is going to lose tonight.”