XLIII. NOW, NOW

  Fading sunlight filtered into Fiora’s lavishly furnished chamber as she packed a borrowed trunk with her few meager belongings. Among them, was the remains of her battered Sorn uniform. Her armor had been replaced twice since setting out with Aichlan, and even though her current set was made mostly of leather, it was far superior to the shoddily crafted cuirass given to the grunts. Given that her kingdom was likely no more, she would have been far better off just melting it down for the iron, but that would have meant she marched into Sorn with a mostly empty suitcase. The thought depressed her, supposedly, this was an important tie to her homeland, but it only felt like so much luggage.

  A soft knock at the door broke Fiora from her mindless task. “Enter.”

  Fiora smiled as Rowena entered. Despite the cold, she was still dressed in her somewhat skimpy forest garb of short skirt, jerkin and thigh high stockings. She also wore a long-sleeved halter top with long, side sleeves, sans mail and sword. Something was different about her however, the look in her eyes and her carriage was not that of the humble and mousey woman they had found in the woods outside Ophelia.

  Rowena waved sweetly as she crossed the room and peered into the trunk. “That's all you’re bringing then?”

  Fiora blushed and hastily shoved several undergarments into the trunk before shutting the lid. “Just need the necessities, it’s not a holiday.”

  Rowena shrugged and took a seat on the bed. “I suppose, but you might want to substitute that old armor for something a bit warmer. Sorn is a flatland, and flatlands are often coldest in winter.”

  Fiora crossed her arms over her chest. “I think I know the winters in my own country.”

  Rowena giggled and waved her comments off. “Oh, I had forgotten.”

  Fiora pulled back her thick mess of hair and tied it into a high tail. “What brings you here anyway?”

  Rowena pouted. “You don’t want to see me Major?”

  Fiora blushed and looked away. This certainly wasn’t the same little girl they had picked up. It was inconceivable that the city life had rubbed off on her so quickly, they’d not been here for but a month or two.

  “I am your second in command, I just came by to hang out.”

  “Hang out?” Fiora asked incredulously.

  “Don’t give me that look!” Rowena chastised with a playful slap on the shoulder. “We’re going to be spending a lot of time together.”

  Fiora noticed a curious glint to her eyes, but chose to ignore it for the time being. They were going to be spending a lot of time together, and would need to rely on each other. It only made sense to get a feel for each other.

  “What did you have in mind?” Fiora relented.

  Rowena’s eyes lit up as she leaned forward. “Let’s go to a bar.”

  “A bar?” Fiora groaned. “There’s plenty of drink in the palace…”

  Rowena sucked her teeth. “It’s not the same, and to be frank, I’m a bit bored of the palace.”

  Fiora ran her hands through her hair and sighed. She was rather tired of hanging about the palace herself, but the alternative was less than appealing. On the few occasions she did step out for a drink, she was bombarded by pirates and soldiers suffering from a thirst of a different kind.

  “How about…Lilith’s Lair?” Rowena said mischievously.

  Fiora recoiled, surprised that the seemingly sheltered elf even knew of that dive. “But, isn’t that a girl bar?”

  Rowena nodded emphatically. “Yeah, it’s a riot.”

  Fiora loosened her collar, suddenly feeling flushed. “I had no idea you…”

  Rowena shrugged. “I saw you go in and decided to follow, and it makes sense.”

  Fiora attempted in vain to mask her horror. “What makes sense?”

  “You know”, Rowena giggled and swatted at her playfully, “and I must admit, I feel the same.”

  Fiora swore her heart was going a thousand beats per second. “Please, you mustn’t tell anyone I went there.”

  “And ruin our secret spot?” Rowena playfully kicked her feet, sitting in such a way as to offer a glimpse down her top at her breast hanging freely beneath. “Why ever would I do that?”

  Fiora took a step back, unsure of what angle Rowena was playing at. Despite her innocent and playful demeanor, there was much more going on behind the façade. Most of the army would be indifferent to her predilections, but there were others who took offense to such couplings, particularly those in The Order or entrenched in a culture of masculinity, and it was not unheard of for a woman to be raped in an attempt to reform her. While such a fate was unlikely under Alice and Aichlan’s watch, she was terrified out of principle.

  “I told you.” Rowena said with a stretch. “I go for the same reason.”

  “You do?” Fiora asked a bit too hopefully, her eyes fixed on Rowena’s exposed midriff.

  “Of course,” Rowena plopped down on the bed and shut the suitcase, “there’s only so many times a girl can get hit on by a pirate or some merc before she says enough is enough.”

  “Oh.” Fiora said as she visibly deflated. “Yes, it can be quite annoying…”

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  Rowena popped up to her feet and clapped her hands together once. “So, let’s go then, alright?”

* * *

  For a midweek evening, the bar was fairly festive with music, dancing and more illicit encounters in secluded booths. The bar was tucked in a corner, with the cramped stage in the opposite end. Most of the floorspace was devoted to the dance floor, with a gallery on the second level for the wallflowers to observe in comfort. The band was a quintet of ladies half singing half screaming a song of liberation. Fiora watched from a corner bar stool as Rowena danced sprightly between several different partners as the rafters shook from the bass amplified by shouting stones and the stomping of dancers on the old wood floor. Fiora raised her half empty stein in cheer with the rest as the song came to an end. Damp with sweat and wearing a grin from ear to pointy ear, Rowena skipped over to join her with two new friends in tow.

  “Major, this is Julie and Noelle, next rounds on them!”

  Before Fiora could respond, Rowena had taken off once more, leaving Fiora alone with the two women. The one named Julie raised her empty glass to signal the bartender, and turned a sly grin to Fiora.

  “What’s your poison Major?”

  Fiora blushed and diverted her gaze. “Whiskey sour please.”

  Julie watched her curiously with the drooping eyelids of one who’d had more than a few, an unflattering attempt at a seductive grin lay beneath too much foundation and smeared lipstick. Fiora smiled back politely and attempted to avoid her gaze. Her bust was relatively small, but her hips and arse were like a succulent pear, waiting to be bit into.

  “You’re one of them Sorn folk that came up with the elves ain’t you?” Julie's words slurred almost as much as the amount of drink that sloshed to the floor when she tried to take a sip.

  “I am; I was a soldier before this whole ordeal began.” Fiora gratefully took up her drink and knocked back half in a single gulp.

  “She doesn’t mean nothing by it.” Noelle interjected with a playful tap to the shoulder. “Not everyone is prejudiced in this city, generally, those with naught find kinship with those in similar situations. Only ones who stand to lose something try and distract us by fabricating a lower rung to be shat on.”

  Fiora smiled through pursed lips and raised her glass in silent toast, though she wasn’t entirely sure what the hell the woman was trying to say. She was wide of hip though small of bust, and her hair was an unnatural shade of violet, adorned with black bows with lace. Her garments belied her station, though if she simply refrained from speaking, one wouldn’t be able to peg her as anything other than a fashionable young noble.

  Fiora tugged on her sleeve and leaned in so she could hear. “That’s a lovely dress you are wearing.”

  Noelle batted her eyelashes and did a perfunctory twirl. “Why thank you, I made it myself.”

  “Do you come here often?” Fiora asked, struggling to find a topic of conversation.

  Noelle shrugged. “Often enough, this is the only bar for us girls, the others are either mixed or cater to the bears and cubs if you catch my meaning.”

  Fiora laughed half-heartedly and nodded, not really comprehending anything she said aside from the affirmation that this was a bar for women seeking women. She bounced her foot and swayed out of sync with the music in the ensuing awkward silence, scanning the crowd of drunken faces for Rowena.

  “How long have you known Rowena?” Julie asked suddenly.

  Fiora blushed. “Oh, well, I don’t really. We’ve only just met; she was in the forest when our army was passing through.”

  “And you just picked her up?” Julie asked with a hint of a smirk.

  Fiora blushed, staring into her empty cup, aware how strange it sounded to pick up random elves in the forest. “Well, it was the General’s decision…”

  Julie and Noelle exchanged knowing glances before laughing over some shared joke. Fiora smiled sheepishly and gulped down the watery dregs of her drink.

  Noelle patted Fiora reassuringly on the arm. “Rowena is what we like to call—“

  “A fucking tease!” Julie blurted.

  Noelle turned to calm her now agitated friend. “Now, now, people like her don’t do these things on purpose, it’s just in their nature. Especially for an elf.”

  “What happened?” Fiora asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

  Noelle waved her off. “Oh, some girls get by in their looks, and some on wit. The rare few can utilize both.”

  Fiora frowned and took a sip of her drink, annoyed to find only ice. “That’s a bit reductionist, isn’t it?”

  Fiora was still uncertain they were talking about the same woman. Every time she had seen Rowena, the woman had seemed rather mousey and shy, particularly around men. In a sense, Fiora saw her as a sort of kindred spirit, certainly not some sort of seductress or whatever it was these women were claiming. If she was being perfectly honest, Rowena was far too naïve for anything like that.

  “She’s fun, just don’t go in with any expectations.” Noelle added placatingly.

  Before Fiora had a chance to respond, she felt a tug on her sleeve and was relieved to see Rowena beckoning her outside. Fiora mumbled an excuse and hurried outside to join her. The chill air was a brief relief from the sweaty air of the club, and the hint of snow meant it wouldn’t drop too much lower.

  “How did you know those two again?” Fiora asked, gesturing back towards the bar.

  “Why?” Rowena retorted a bit defensively.

  Fiora shrugged, unsure of how to verbalize her encounter. “I don’t know, they seemed rather…odd.”

  Rowena smiled. “Oh, probably just drunk. Julie gets some strange ideas about stuff when she’s had a few.”

  Fiora nodded and rubbed her hands together. “That makes sense.”

  A small group of young revelers stumbled down the lane as a public coach stopped to unload several scullery girls just getting off of work.

  “What did they say?” Rowena asked probingly.

  While her tone was playful, Fiora recognized the start of an inquisition when she saw one. “Nothing much, I think she likes you though.”

  Rowena smirked with faux astonishment. “Really?”

  Despite her attempt to act surprised, Fiora got the distinct impression she was leading her on. It was almost as if she were doing it on purpose, though to what end, Fiora could only guess. Surely, she knew where her tastes lay, and surely she knew the relationship she had with Alice went beyond friends.

  “I had no idea, that explains a lot then.”

  Fiora frowned, incredulous. “You went to a dyke bar and are surprised when one takes interest?”

  Rowena laughed and packed a long slender pipe with elven weed. “I tend to be a bit single minded, only focusing on what, whom, I find interesting.”

  She exhaled a fat ring of violet smoke and passed the pipe to Fiora, who politely declined.

  “And what do you find interesting?” Fiora persisted.

  Rowena smirked. “A great many things.”

  The naïveté and coquettish tone of their very first encounter was gone; it was as if Fiora were talking to an entirely different woman.

  Fiora folded her arms across her chesty and leaned against the wall. “That’s not a real answer.”

  Rowena shrugged. “It’s what you get for now, Major.” She stood and dusted the snow from her front, the pipe dangling from her mouth. “Ready to hit the next place?”