Chapter Text
Solus rem Galvus sat quietly in his officer’s tent one evening, catching up on reports and managing correspondence, when he heard the commotion of guards approaching. Sighing to himself, he mumbled, “I wonder what trouble they’ve brought me today…”
“Sir! Permission to enter!”
Groaning audibly, he closed his eyes as he tucked away his heightened irritation before approving admittance, and those entering witnessed him sitting with serene focus behind a table piled with parchment, scratching away with a quill, not taking the slightest effort to look up from his work to acknowledge them. “What is the meaning of this interruption?”
“Sir, we’ve caught a witch. She was causing trouble outside of camp, sir. We thought she might be a spy… sir.” The guard stuttered, presently questioning if he'd made a mistake.
Dragging his gaze upward to finally grant them his regard, his countenance utterly disinterested at first suddenly sharpened when he caught sight of the woman they captured. Straightening in his seat, his eyes traveled down the entire length of her body, inspecting the way she writhed and squirmed in the soldier’s hold, and when she caught his appraisal, she shot him a revolted scowl he supposed was meant to be menacing.
“Leave her.” He commanded. Then, without hesitation, the guard retaining her roughly released her with a callous push causing her to tumble forth unsteadily, and upon their departure, with one eyebrow raised he considered her for a brief moment more before picking up his quill and returning to his work. “Tell me what happened.” He stated simply.
“No. I think not.” She retorted, then brazenly leaning forward onto the table, she sneered, “You are going to let me go on my way, commander…” With a jolt of her wrist, controlled bolts of lightning sparked between her elegant fingers, “if you know what’s best…”
Without disengaging from his work, Solus interrupted her threat with a lazily wave of his wrist and summoned a glass of wine before him. Then, reading over the notes just written, he took a slow sip.
Dispersing her spell immediately, the woman thrust back and stood rigidly before him. “How did you...?" Then with a quivering gasp at her realization, she stated, "You’re not Garlean.”
“No.”
“Do they know that?”
“No.”
“Then why reveal yourself to me?”
With a flickering glance toward her, he specified, “So that you might start taking me seriously.”
“Ok, then. Well... it worked.”
With a slight air of amusement, he gestured toward the chair in front of his desk.
Cautiously, she took a seat as he leaned back to set his quiet regard upon her and finding herself unexpectedly ensnared by the complete concentration of his steady, golden eyes, she shuddered as his captivating stare diminished her.
Then, as he impatiently cleared his throat, she visibly jumped giving a little squeak before shaking her head to regain focus. “Right then. Okay. Well. I was making dinner at my camp. I knew you lot were here, so I kept a safe distance away. Not that I have any qualms with you, to be sure… I’ve just learned it’s best to give a respectful distance to military companies such as yours…”
Pinching the bridge of his nose as she rapidly recounted her tale, he exhaled and resumed writing. However, his display did not seem to bother her in the slightest; in fact, she carried on as if she hadn’t even noticed his annoyance.
“…But a scouting group caught sight of me. Came at me with questions, to which I answered politely, mind you, but then these two louts start smirking like they got this great funny idea. And one of them says something quite crude that I don’t wish to repeat while the other grabbed me about the waist, and well… forgive me for the details, but…” Her face scrunched in disgust as she recalled the events, “His face was so close that I can still smell his hot, stinking breath… and as he was about to take some serious liberties, soldier or not, I couldn’t just allow him to take advantage…”
As Solus listened to her conclude her account, his face grew dark and severe, and with a slow, deliberate movement, he set down his quill, then rose. Apparently noticing him now, however, she abruptly cut off her narrative and tucked in her chin to carefully watch him move around the table toward her.
Without a word, he clutched down on her arm and plucked her from the seat, and without waiting for her to balance herself, he jerked her toward him as he moved promptly from the tent. Still in his grasp, she scampered after him trying to keep up with his brisk pace, but nearly tripping over her skirts every few moments as she did so. Not once did he turn around to look back at her, but instead kept his stoic awareness directed ahead; she however kept fixated on his imposing stature the entire time. Though she wanted to struggle or speak up, his encompassing stare from earlier was still fresh in her mind, and she couldn’t stop fear from strangling her.
As soon as they reached the soldiers’ encampment, he swiftly stopped, and with a sweeping gesture, he propelled her around him and tossed her forward. With his effort and the natural momentum, she stumbled and landed on the ground, grunting as she hit the dirt. “Well, that wasn’t necessary...” she mumbled as she picked herself back up.
Then, as she was dusting off her skirts, she faltered as she spied the soldiers rushing into formation. Her mouth dropped slightly in astonishment as she shifted her attention to examine the commander. He was young; perhaps even younger than her. Though a mature stripe of silver streaked through his dark hair, he could’ve only been around twenty at the least, and yet, without a single directive, his men had dropped everything to scuttle in a panic to line up simply upon his arrival.
Standing tall, with shoulders broad and square, he held his arms with confidence behind his back as he stared forward with an impassive expression, but however perfect his performance was, she had sense good enough to conclude that there was much more going on behind that poised masked of his. Since she couldn’t possibly know what he kept hidden, she decided to remain calm and wait for the scene to play out, desperately hoping for an opening to present itself that would permit her escape.
As soon as his troops were all in line and attentive, he spoke clearly – not having to raise his voice due to the reverent silence that loomed in the air. “Two in this squadron specifically approached this woman prior to the reported confrontation. I will have the identities of these men known to me.”
Expecting a nervous shuffle among the soldiers, she was once again surprised that without reluctance, the two men stepped forward, and each in turn, from the left to right, shouted their names plainly.
“Antonius oen Marcellus!”
“Cassius pyr Arvina”
Addressing her with naught but a slight turn of his head, Solus peered over at her as he spoke, “You claimed an act of transgression was made against you. If your account is accurate, then a duel is necessary to resolve the conflict. Confirm if these are the men you spoke of.”
Shocked by his verdict, she felt cautious and restless, as if she were walking straight into a trap, but uncertain how else to proceed, she answered, “Yes. Those are the men in question.” And, in Solus’ eyes, she thought she saw a flash of something come through his authoritative mien, but before she could discern what she saw, it was gone.
Snappishly, he ordered, “All will return here at dawn tomorrow to settle this matter.” Then once again, he gripped her arm as she rolled her eyes. Not this again. But, without protest, she pulled up her skirts from her ankles and allowed herself to be tugged along.
As they neared his tent, he slowed his pace and released his hold before asking, “What is your name?”
“Aelia.”
At hearing the name, his stride staggered momentarily. Derived from Aelius. “Sun” Then glancing back at her, he focused again on the colors of her soul, just as he did when he first perceived her. It’s no coincidence. There’s no mistaking that hue… Feeling his heart flutter in his chest, his brows furrowed in response. With lips pursed, he steadily inhaled to collect himself while he shoved down any hint of hope that had resurfaced, then turned to the guard outside his quarters. After speaking privately to him, Solus then lifted the tent flap before signaling her to enter.
Once inside, she recoiled in alarm when he magically assembled himself without warning into a billowing white shirt with a plunging collar tucked loosely into a pair of tight black pants, which were in turn adorned with a pair of sleek leather boots. Running his long fingers through his hair, shaking free the refined style so that strands now fell in front of his face, he hunched forward as if carrying a large burden and donned an indolent expression that made him look much older.
Then, walking over to a cushioned chair in the corner, he plopped himself down unceremoniously. “You will stay with me tonight.” Before she could refute, however, he reclined back and asked, “What were you doing in these parts, anyway?” He asked curiously.
“Just wandering through.” She said while settling in on the thick-padded rug and eyeing his chair jealously.
Wistfully, he repeated, “‘Wandering’… is that so?”
“…Yes.” She said almost as a question – not sure where the conversation was heading.
“And what do you do when you wander?”
“Just that and not much more really. I meet a significant amount of people along the way. Sometimes if I help them, they grant me favors in return: food, lodging... stories.”
His attention sharpened with a discernibly calculated question, “What could you possible want with their stories?”
“People think they know a great deal of things… truth is, no one really knows anything for sure. And all we have are the stories we tell ourselves. Every one of us. I suppose that is the closest thing we have to certainty, making it one of the most interesting things you can acquire."
He observed her carefully as he pondered her response, then austerely replied, “I had a guard dig up a small mattress for you; he should return shortly with it. The sun will set soon, and we’ll retire for the evening.”
With a derisive chuckle, she jeered, “The way you talk..."
He peered over at her with a wordless inquiry, to which she explained, “You make it sound like even the sun succumbs to your will.”
Lowering his chin to bear his gaze into hers more deeply, a wide, devious grin spread across his face before he shrewdly replied, “The sun may not, but plenty things do.”
A shiver ran up her spine as she faced his intimidating disposition, but refusing to yield to it, she boldly stated with sarcasm dripping from each word, “Oh? Is that so? So high and mighty, are ya? Good for you, then.” When he did not counter her jab, she huffed in disappointment at having hoped to get a rise from him.
Shortly after, the guard appeared outside. “I have what you asked for, sir.”
“Come in, then.” He said while unbending his posture.
Aelia studied with utmost interest as he immediately shifted from the arrogant, weary man back into the serene, young officer she first encountered, and a small, tickled smile twitched in the corner of her mouth. Aptly done… she thought, unable to deter her admiration.
After the guard hauled in the mattress, Solus flung her one of the fur-lined blankets from his embellished military cot. Then falling onto it, he groaned, “Good night.” And, with his face implanted in his pillow, he theatrically raised his hand, and with a tired wave, the candlelight in the area extinguished. Once in the dark, she heard his arm thump back against the bed.
Distastefully noting the firmness and reek of her mattress along with the diminished size of the blanket he offered her, she mumbled grumpily, “Good night.”