The Fell War - Chapter 12 (Patreon)

Alfre awoke with a stiff neck and very warm legs. Her eyes blinked sluggishly against the bright light that filtered in through the high windows of the lounge. She took in her situation carefully. She was leaning against Abital, who has drifted off into slumber sometime after her, because she distinctly remembered him being awake when she fell asleep. Canus was still curled up on her legs, which explained why they were so warm. When did he fall asleep? Did gods even really need sleep? Such were the half-awake questions that flittered through her mind – closely followed by the memories of the night before crashing into her like a speeding truck.

She groaned, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes. Had she really said that? Good lord, why had she done that? That was so stupid.

“Good morning, snowbird.” Alfre pulled her hands away from her eyes to peer down at a grinning Canus. “Seems your memory hasn’t failed you.”

“Shut up,” Alfre groaned, wanting nothing more than for the world to open up and swallow her whole.

Abital shifted beside her, catching her attention. Soothing fingers ran through her hair once more. “Do you regret your words?”

Did she? That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? The problem was she wasn’t sure of anything. She had no idea what she was doing, or if it was even okay. Hell, she hadn’t even broached the subject with Wallace, and he was just as entangled in this mess as the rest of them.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m not really sure of anything. I’m sorry.”

Alfre stiffened as Abital leaned down to nuzzle at her hair, unused to this much blatant affection from anyone, let alone the God of the Underworld. “No need to apologize.”

“Take all the time you need to figure things out,” Canus added. “The worst thing you can do is act on feelings you aren’t even sure are there.”

Alfre sighed, grateful for their understanding. “Thank you.”

Canus grinned. “Anytime, snowbird.”

The others wandered down some time later, all looking like they slept far better than Alfre did. Wally eyed the way Alfre lounged between the two gods with interest, a sadness hidden behind his curiosity. Alfre would have to speak with him eventually, when she figured everything out. She joined them at the kitchen table, where a letter awaited her.

“Alessio sure got back to you quick,” Elias commented, taking a sip of his coffee.

“If you think Alessio didn’t jump from his bed to compose his response, you obviously don’t know him that well,” Spica teased. “He’s eager to prove himself and uphold his end of the alliance, however unofficial that alliance may be. I assume he’ll be joining us.”

“Yes,” Alfre replied, scanning the letter. “He’ll be marching our way by the end of the day, he says, with two thousand soldiers and five hundred healers.”

Elias choked on a sip of coffee at the numbers. “That’s enough to fill a whole ship on their own,” he wheezed.

“He’ll also send another five hundred sailors to help with the maintenance and sailing of the ships,” Alfre continued. “The same crew as before, plus some. Good gods, Alessio is insane.”

“To be fair, two thousand soldiers is only a fraction of his actual standing army,” Spica reminded them over her cup of tea. “It’s not like he’s leaving his kingdom undefended.”

“I suppose,” Elias conceded. “But still, you know he’ll come along himself. The boy is going to get himself killed. And then what will happen to his kingdom?”

“He’s older than you are, Elias, so I wouldn’t call him a boy,” Spica warned. “And we’d be happy to have him along as a tactical advisor. The man knows fighting; he was trained to command large armies since he was a child. We’re lucky to have him along.”

Elias sighed, already looking very tired. “Alright. If you say so, starlight.”

Alfre blinked, shocked by the pet name. Was that new? The way Elias immediately went paler than normal and the near murderous look Spica gave him said that Alfre wasn’t supposed to hear that.

“Starlight?” she echoed, smirking at Spica. She couldn’t help but call this karma for all the times the assassin teased her.

“Dammit, magician, we weren’t going to tell her yet,” Spica outright growled.

Elias flushed a brilliant pink. “I’m sorry! It just slipped out! I don’t know why we haven’t just told her already, anyway. She’s our friend.”

“I wasn’t ready!” Spica exclaimed, only the faintest dusting of pink on her high cheekbones.

Alfre rolled her eyes. “It’s whatever. I don’t really care anyway. I probably would have noticed something was going on if it wasn’t for all the shite with the war effort and such.”

“It’s not whatever!” Spica insisted. “We didn’t want you to feel like a third wheel.”

“I’m fine,” Alfre maintained. “No hurt feelings or anything. Besides, it’s hard to feel like a third wheel when there are six of us, don’t you think?”

Spica and Elias shared an unsure look over the table.

“Just don’t let me catch you snogging on the couch, and we’ll be fine,” Alfre said, taking an offered plate of eggs and sausage from Wally.

Spica’s eyes narrowed, and Alfre immediately regretted saying anything. “You mean like you and your god boyfriends were?”

“We were most certainly not snogging,” Alfre retorted firmly. “We were just coming to a mutual understanding.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Elias muttered, taking a sip of coffee.

Alfre glared at him. “Don’t you start. Nothing untoward happened last night.”

“Would you admit to it if it did?” Spica challenged, pointing her fork at the shorter woman.

“If anything happened, it wouldn’t have been on the couch,” Alfre said plainly.

Spica almost pouted. “You’re absolutely no fun, darling.”

Alfre rolled her eyes. “I’m so sorry to hear that, starlight.”

Alfre picked up her plate and escaped into the guildhall to avoid the steak knife Spica hurled at her head.