Post-Shadow Throne, multi-part fanfic, as promised.
🏰 Set immediately after Carthya's victory over Avenia. The trio, Imogen and Harlowe, all travel back to the camp where Mott is being treated. Afterwards, deciding to journey back home as Jaron needs to coordinate repairs centrally. Lyriad is where they have to stay the night because they didn't make it home yet.
🏰 They are older than in the books, and there is some suggestive language at times just to spice things up.
🏰 Imogen and Jaron bicker like a married couple.
🏰 As always, I run out of motivation by the time I need to proofread, so ignore any spelling or grammar errors if they are there.
The carriage rocked to a stop and I dared to look outside. Lyriad was one of the towns occupied by the Avenians, but, to my greatest surprise, I wasn't greeted with burning buildings or a ravaged landscape. Everything was relatively untouched and the inn seemed busier than we expected.
"Are they seriously that desperate for ale," Roden groaned. Which I thought was ironic given he laid waste to the castle supply frequently.
"These are probably the people who lost their homes and had nowhere to go," I said.
Someone gently tapped my shoulder, but I didn't need to turn to know who, "Maybe we should just camp outside?" Imogen was whispering, but everyone heard her anyway.
"It's my duty to ensure the King isn't sleeping on the floor, Imogen."
I chuckled at Roden, "Since when do I care where I sleep? Actually, since when do you care where I sleep?"
"I'm not asking if you care I'm simply stating that it's not happening if I can help it. Imogen shouldn't have to sleep on the floor either. And you also forget that the princess is sitting across from you."
"The princess," Amarinda interrupted, "Who is perfectly capable of sleeping on the floor as well."
"Imogen was shot, Jaron is practically a cripple, my neck still hurts and if Tobias doesn't get some food he'll probably die from malnourishment." After successfully insulting the young physitian, Roden smiled and left the carriage to check for rooms before anyone could stop him.
I didn't protest. In all honesty, I longed for something resembling a bed and a roof over my head. Not a heap of cloth in a tent. My entire body ached and my leg throbbed with betrayal. Even with half of Imogen's body against mine, I could feel the air's chill. Sleeping under the stars tonight would have been about as romantic as sleeping in stables. Both had drawbacks that I didn't want to be subjected to. Nor did I want Imogen to endure that, though I knew she was capable of anything, her comfort was a priority for me.
A few minutes of silence lapsed before my captain joined us again, "There were three rooms but I only took two. Thought we need one person capable of fighting in each so I'll stay in the one with Tobias and Amarinda."
Tobias glared, "I can fight too, you know."
The up and down Roden gave was enough to make Tobias snap, "I'll have you know I wounded someone in battle."
"You know what, you are such an-"
They blanched. I thought it rather unfair that they simply listened to Imogen without protesting, but said nothing about how they didn't extend that same courtesy to their literal monarch.
I stepped outside and twisted around to help Imogen down, placing my hands on her waist and carefully setting her on the dirt.
"You know I have fully functioning legs," she kissed my cheek, "Something you can't boast at the moment."
"Let me savour this. Besides, I have fully functioning arms, might as well put them to good use."
"Do you have fully functioning lips as well?"
My grin widened, "Is that an insult or a challenge?"
I was worried she regretted our kiss in the dungeon at Fathernwood and kept my distance since. Secretly replaying the moment every other minute. But as she raised onto her toes and pulled me down to her, I melted. There was a hint of sweetness from the berries she was eating throughout the carriage ride. I had been watching them tint her lips red. Now I was tasting a fantasy, even more divine than I thought reality would ever grant me.
"He has something else that is fully functioning too," Roden sneered.
It was like someone poured a bucket of water on us. I glared at him, hoping he understood the depth of my resentment. One day I would kill him if I didn't die in this moment, right now.
Though I wasn't sure what would kill me first, embrassment or Imogen. But she just gave me a once-over and broke off into laughter as my face grew hotter than the sun. Embarassment it was then.
By some miracle, we had avoided being recognised. I didn't want the attention, especially when it could make us vulnerable to Avenian sympathisers. There weren't many. Certainly less and less with the partioric vigilanties doing my job for me. But even if one knew the King of Carthya was sleeping in an unguarded inn, they wouldn't hesitate risking their lives to burn it to the ground. That was the less selfish reason. In truth, it had been a while since I could pretend to be ordinary. Ordinary in the social sense, that is. The way Imogen's gaze followed me around the room made me feel anything but ordinary.
"Jaron, I'm pretty sure it's safe."
I crossed my arms and frowned, the walls sounded suspiciously hollow. Yet I couldn't imagine the boisterous, red-headed inn keeper was paranoid enough about some scrappy rooms. "I suppose so."
She stepped forward, "I know so."
Roden had left forty-two seconds ago, after which I scoured the room for traps or doors to distract myself from the fact that Imogen and I were alone, together, in a room where we would be sleeping, also alone, together. My face was already red, I knew that. Imogen's cheeks were tinged pink, like tulips, though she didn't seem too bothered. I couldn't bring myself to act as nonchalant as her.
"Reminds me of that inn in Drylliad," she grinned, "Want to help me put up a privacy curtain?"
"Oh, yes of course," I hurried to pull off some sheets, cursing under my breath for not doing so immediately. What Imogen must have been thinking in that moment, no doubt regretting even getting involved with me in the first place. Probably assuming all sorts of things about me. Probably-
She was laughing. She was clutching her stomach and laughing.
I stopped, the bedding heaped in my hands.
And just when I thought she had finished, one look at my face sent her doubling over again.
She wiped her eyes, "Yes?".
She took a few deep breaths as she walked to me and confiscated the bedding, kissing my cheek and giggling to herself. "I was obviously joking. But if you had seen your face you'd be laughing too. What were you so afraid of?"
"Jaron, if you think that after two years and everything we have been through that I would choose to be separate from you, you are mistaken." Then, suddenly shy, "Unless you don't want that, of course."
It took me a moment to understand what she was saying.
"No!" I exclaimed, "Of course I want to sleep with you! Wait- not sleep with you but sleep in the same bed as you. Well, of course I also want to sleep with you too- in the same bed I mean! Not that don't want to also sleep with you. Which is what I just said..."
"Are you done?" She was smiling like she knew something I didn't again. I hated that.
Imogen was still grinning while she started refitting the sheets on the poor excuse for the bed. It was practically a slab of wood, upon inspection. No doubt plenty of bed bugs too. I sauntered over to the fireplace, ready to kindle some warmth into the room. I did promise Imogen a fireplace in Connor's dungeon, after all. And I had just the idea to turn this so-far embarrassing evening into a romantic one. Besides, she didn't seem uncomfortable with the idea of me romancing her. Might as well lay it on thick.
"So, maybe once I get a fire going we can- Bollocks."
"We can just ask for some."
"OK, obviously I wouldn't send you out there to get recognised. I'll go."
She started towards the door, head held high. I stuck out my arm, "Like hell you will. There's a bunch of drunk men downstairs."
She crossed her arms, "I can look after myself."
"I know. But you also know that it's a bad idea."
"Oh because you're suddenly the authority on bad ideas." She glared for a little longer, as if it would sway me. But it was a half-effort. Eventually her shoulders dropped. "So what do we do?"
"Simple really. I'll just go out and chop some logs for us." I grinned.
Impress her with your raw, sultry masculinity, as Roden would say. Conveniently, when I had blocked Imogen from leaving, my hand had landed on the door frame. I used the opportunity to tense my arm and waggle my brows.
Her eyes narrowed. "Are you peacocking?"
"No. Maybe... Yes," I gripped the frame harder in a way that made my forearm bulge, "Is it working?"
"A bit," She licked her lips, "But we're not just going to go out and chop down wood. We're civilised."
She crossed her arms, "Oh? Is that why you're acting like this?"
"Just so you're aware, high society wooing is supposed to be much more subtle than this." She gestured frantically at me.
My smile widened as I let go and stalked closer, crowding her, "I didn't realise there was a rule book. Point me in it's direction so I can use it to kindle this fire."
"A few moments ago you were being shy... what changed?"
Apparently my efforts to seduce her were, in fact, not working. Only making her suspicious. I sighed, defeated. "I don't know how to act around you anymore."
Her giggle quickly faded into a frown, "You do know that I don't expect you to act as anyone but yourself."
"Roden said it was best to act like anyone else."
"Yeah well Roden can be a real idiot."
We stood in silence, the moment giving me clarity. "Maybe they'll have some spare."
They - being Tobias, Amarinda and Roden - chose that moment to knock on our door. I peaked through, "What do you want?"
