Lydia’s lids rasped against her eyeballs. That was an uncomfortable surprise; she was expecting them to be moist with tears. At least her real body hadn’t betrayed her in that regard. She went to sit up, and was greeted with shooting pains down her neck and back. Her feet felt unnaturally heavy as well, as if pinned. She decided to slump back against her pillow.

Pillow?

Despite the familiar agony coursing through her detoxing body, Lydia risked a peek at her surroundings. She was in her bedroll. No. She was in a bed. It was the bed at The Blighted Pond. Her armour had been deposited neatly on the floor at her side, stripped from her sweat soaked body. She didn’t know how to feel about that. She felt vulnerable without her armour, even this oversized piece of scrap metal they’d given her, and yet even the cloth of her shirt was cloying and stifling right now.

“Awake?”

Who the fu- Oh.

“Gabriel?” she spoke into the open room. Where was the bastard?

The pale mercenary drifted up into sight like a ghost ascending through the floorboards. He cracked his neck and popped the joints along his arms and shoulders. He looked crap.

“The one and only. How are you feeling?”

Lydia considered telling him to mind his own fucking business, but some necessity she couldn’t pinpoint prevented her. Instead, she simply answered:

“Water.”

“Ah, yeah, of course.”

It was frustrating watching the lanky mercenary move. He had a total lack of fluidity to his motions that bothered her on a primal level. Some people didn’t deserve four functional limbs.

“You were out for quite a while,” Gabriel said as he poured her a cup from the ewer on her bedside table, “We had to call in a doctor.”

“You paid one of those charlatans to come say I look just fine?”

“Actually, you did,” Gabriel said, his eyes shifting away from hers, “We didn’t have any money.”

“Tsch. Thanks a whole fucking bunch.”

“We were worried,” another voice said.

Lydia strained her neck to see Figo rising from a blanket in one corner of the room. She shuffled up on her straw mattress to confirm what she feared. Vish was also curled on the floor, still asleep, and Bling was tucked in horizontally at the end of her bed. That explained the weight on her legs, at least.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said as threateningly as she could manage whilst guzzling the delightfully cool water.

“If we weren’t here, you’d almost certainly be dead,” Gabriel said, and pointed to something on the floor near Lydia’s head, “You almost choked on your own vomit, several times, actually.”

Lydia could smell the truth of this claim without looking. There would be a chamber pot full of her degradation ready to greet her when she was able to stand. She hated that they had seen her like this, and hated more that they had helped her.

“You should have just left me.”

“Actually, we were going to,” Gabriel ran a hand through his fringe in a way that made Lydia think of Michael, “We thought you were just going to sleep off your little, uh, tete-a-tete. It was Magnus who convinced us otherwise. He told us you were a danger to yourself.”

“Magnus is here?” she felt adrenaline course through her veins at the mere mention of his name.

“He was. He left to return to his unit around midnight.”

“There’s another one who should have been minding his business.”

“He’s the reason you’re alive right now, Lydia,” Gabriel said.

“He’s the reason I’m here to begin with.”

Gabriel massaged his elbow idly, “We don’t know why you’re here, Lydia, and believe me, we did ask,” he looked at her with more confidence than he would have the day before, “but it seems to me that, at some stage, we all have to admit that we’re responsible for our own actions.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, turning to face the wall.

“Maybe, and maybe I never will,” he sighed, “but I know that, personally, I’ve been carrying on for years now on the path that was set for me, and that I never thought to stray from it,” Gabriel smiled softly, “until now, that is.”

“Good for you.”

Gabriel topped up the cup, “Be bitter if you want, but I hope something from this charade sinks in. You’re the master of your life now, Lydia, and you can choose to wallow in the past, or you can choose to be the badass mercenary we’ve grown to love.”

‘Gods’, she thought, “And if I choose neither?”

“That’s up to you as well.”

She saw Figo’s shoulders slump, but he didn’t complain.

Lydia’s eyes danced along the rows of uneven thatch. She was glad it wasn’t raining; there was a good chance that the shoddy roofing was responsible for the inn’s less than inviting name.

“What time is it?” Lydia whispered.

“Late morning,” Gabriel replied with a yawn.

Lydia would have shot upright if she had the energy, “Albright? The fingers?”

Gabriel invited Figo to answer that one, who rung his hands nervously.

“She didn’t show,” the archer said.

“Surprise, surprise,” Gabriel murmured.

Lydia was annoyed with herself for not having been there, and annoyed at the others for not succeeding, as irrational as that was.

“The 4th?” the warrior croaked.

Gabriel was reluctant to answer, “We don’t know. Magnus only said that they were not staying in town for long. Best you put them out of your mind.”

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“That’s for me to decide,” Lydia grunted, swinging her legs around to the side of the bed, dragging Bling with them.

“Shiny!” Bling squealed as her butt bounced off the floor, abruptly waking from an apparently pleasant dream.

“Yessing, flipping, gods!” Vish exclaimed as the sound of redhead bouncing off floorboards woke him as well.

“Good morning to you too,” Gabriel said.

“Like bollocks it is. I feel like I fell from a third story window,” the mind-mapper moaned.

“Vish,” Figo scolded.

“What? Too soon?”

“Nobody asked you to sleep on my floor,” Lydia said as she collected her gear.

The warrior moved sluggishly. Vertigo was setting in, and she wasn’t entirely sure she could stand without losing whatever still remained in her stomach, but she knew she had to try.

“Lydia, I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Gabriel said, reaching out to steady her and then dropping the offered hand when he caught her look.

“Tired of people telling me what I should and shouldn’t do. My life, you said so yourself. My choice.”

The bed wailed in complaint as Lydia levered herself onto her feet. She swayed for a moment, as if the walls had their own gravity, but finally righted herself. She was sore, tired, sick, and depleted, but she had too much on her mind to rest. Too much on her mind to rest sober, at any rate.

“Woah there, big lass, mind you don’t fall on me,” Vish said, scooting back.

“Call me that again and I’ll make you wish you’d fallen out of a third-floor window.”

“Alright, alright. Sheesh, easy.”

“Don’t talk down to me, you gutless prick!”

Vish didn’t.

They were watching her. They were all watching her.

Lydia could see the uncertainty in their eyes. She could see the fear. It was a familiar sight.

“To hell with you,” she said.

Military training set in as Lydia hefted her sword onto her belt and tucked in her hatchet. She looked at the armour, tasted the bile in her throat, and thought better of bending down again. Without another look at them, she went for the door. It took every bit of resolve she had to walk in a straight line.

“Lydia,” Gabriel said as her hand was pressed against the wood, “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes I do.”

“You have a place here with us. All you need to do is accept it.”

Her hand slid a fraction down the door.

“You talk too much,” she said, and gripped the handle.

Just like that, Lydia was gone.

The mercenaries winced as the door slammed behind Lydia, raining a cloud of dust down upon them.

“Wooo,” Vish whistled, “Well that was a night of shite sleep wasted. What now?”

“Breakfast,” Bling said gleefully.

“You always do have the best ideas, old friend,” Vish said, brushing down his robe.

The mercenaries lost almost a full day in the dank grips of The Blighted Pond. They breakfasted, they slept, they lunched, and they slept. In the evening, they met for dinner, disheartened and dejected, and tried to formulate a new plan. The suggestions were few and far between.

Not one of the team anticipated Lydia’s return. The mercenaries were utterly dumbfounded when the former soldier came in shortly after they had grudgingly polished off a steakless steak and kidney pie. She waltzed over to the table like nothing had happened, and sat herself on the end of the bench.

Lydia poured herself a tankard of beer and drained it in one. She topped herself up again and leant back against the wall, sipping gingerly.

“Um, hi?” Gabriel broke the ice.

“Mm,” Lydia hailed in return.

There was more silence.

“Alright,” Vish eventually said, “I’m confused.”

“What happened? Did you,” Figo was on the verge of finding his tongue, “Did you kill those people?”

“Thought about it,” Lydia said.

“But?” Gabriel prompted.

“But then I didn’t.”

Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief, “That’s great, Lydia. I can’t tell you how proud we-”

“Don’t,” she commanded, “Don’t say that.”

“Okaay,” the captain raked his nails along the table, “Well, anyway, we’re happy to see you again. We thought you were gone for good.”

“Thought about that too.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“Yeeeah, don’t ask her that,” Vish belatedly advised.

“Don’t know, just did,” their quizzical looks were starting to make her uncomfortable, and she always spoke too much when she was uncomfortable, “Look, after I let off some steam, then… I don’t know, different things seemed important to the things I thought were important, you know?”

The other mercenaries looked at each other.

“You didn’t stab another horse, did you?” Figo asked.

Lydia actually laughed, “Not this time. None of them looked at me funny.”

“That’s a relief.”

“So,” Gabriel said, building up the courage to ask, “Will you be staying long?”

“Can’t say, but, uh,” Lydia placed her drink down carefully and deliberately, “I was thinking maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if I went along with you guys for a bit. I thought I might even take payment when the rest of you do as well. You know, when the job, or jobs, finish.”

Gabriel fought to hide his surprise; he was sure that would not be appreciated right now, “I think I speak for everyone when I say, we would like that.”

“Sixty-forty.”

“What?”

“I’m worth three of you, easily. That’s a good rate.”

“Not every job requires hacking and maiming!” Gabriel blathered, “We do more than our fair share of everything else! How is that a fair split?”

“Alright, alright,” she hushed him with a wave, “Geez, your voice is annoying. We’ll negotiate the rates when it comes to it. For now, let’s just say I’m in.”

Gabriel simmered down, “Well, thank you.”

“You can agree to the sixty-forty later.”

“Don’t just think-”

“Gabriel,” Figo said softly, placing a hand on his forearm.

“Okay, fine, fine,” Gabriel rolled his head from side to side, working out new tension knots, “A problem for another time.”

A smile threatened to tug at Lydia’s lips, “At a boy,” she fidgeted in her seat, “Look, I’m not very good at this, but I wanted to say, er.”

There was a long pause.

“Yes?” Figo asked.

“I wanted to say, um…”

They waited.

“Go on,” Gabriel prompted.

“Gods, never mind,” she dumped a small satchel on the table, “Here. I got you some things.”

Vish and Gabriel straightened simultaneously, so that they looked like the stalks of a snail’s antenna.

“Did you get us gifts, Lydia?” Vish asked.

“Nothing like that!” she was blushing profusely, “Just shut up! Here!”

Lydia thrust a knife at Figo. The archer jumped back before he realised the knife was sheathed.

“Oh. Oh! Thank you, Lydia! That’s very kind of you!” the young hunter said, drawing the small blade.

“Guy at the shop said it was a skinning knife. I don’t know, looks kind of small to me.”

“No, no, this is perfect! This will be perfect for deer. I can’t wait to catch us some! Thank you so much!” he said enthusiastically.

“Uh, yeah, um, you’re welcome, I guess,” she turned to Gabriel, “Didn’t know what to get you, but you say you’re pretty smart, so, I dunno.”

Lydia produced a leather-bound book and slid it across the table.

Gabriel wasn’t actually much of a reader, and tended to find it a bit of a chore, but he appreciated the sentiment, “No, Lydia, this is great. I’m looking forward to reading…”

Gabriel glanced at the cover: Four Hundred and Eleven Ways to Cook Asparagus.

“… it,” the captain concluded.

“No idea what it’s about, but some fancy-looking guy was raving about it,” she said, somewhat embarrassed by her illiteracy.

“Is it a book of legends?” Figo asked excitedly, peering over Gabriel’s shoulder, equally incapable of deciphering the lettering.

Gabriel and Vish exchanged a look, “Something like that. Anyway, thank you.”

“Welcome.”

Lydia caught Bling pouting out of the corner of her eye, “Don’t worry. I didn’t forget about you,” she reassured the other woman.

Bling’s eyes lit up as Lydia extended her hand, opening her fingers one by one to reveal… the change from her other purchases. Beautiful, glistening, shiny, shiny change.

“Yessss,” Bling hissed, greedily fumbling for the coins.

The redhead hugged her treasure close to her heart, peering inside periodically to admire her trove. It truly was the perfect gift.

“Well, that looks like everyone,” Gabriel said, being deliberately obtuse.

“No it bloody doesn’t,” Vish said quickly.

“Mm, I would say so,” Figo joined in the riling.

“Funny, funny. But really, what did you get me?” the mind-mapper said, his brown eyes wide and expectant.

“Actually, they’re right,” Lydia shrugged.

“Say what now?”

“I didn’t buy you anything.”

“Favouritism.”

“But I do want to apologise for threatening to kill you this morning. Only this time, though, the other times you deserved it,” she explained.

“An apology from Lydia? My, my, that is something,” he said, nodding appreciatively, “Not something of great commercial value, mind, but that’s cool, that’s cool. Aaall dandy.”

“I got you something else as well.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, something pretty special. Of all the gifts,” she caught herself too late, “Well, not gifts, but, you know, things I’m giving,” she cleared the awkwardness from her throat, “Anyway, I think this one is the best.”

“Really?” Vish was on the edge of his seat, “Wait, you’re not going to hit me, are you?”

This time, Lydia smiled fully, “Not today.”

From her satchel, Lydia pulled out a small wooden box. There were tiny holes whittled in the top and sides. She slid it across the table, slowly and gently.

Tentatively, Vish flipped open the lid of the minute container.

The mind-mapper gasped, “Oh my gods,” there were tears in his eyes as he carefully lifted his present, “It’s a Rodney!”