The woman was clearly nervous at first, hesitant in her response to his first question. Aladar recalled the reason she had given for joining the army when he thought she was a man, though part of him felt as though that couldn't be one-hundred percent trusted since he had clearly already been lied to. But she stood by her story and his face hardened again, watching her closely.

However, that nervousness seemed to fade quickly enough as she moved onto his question about disobedience. And for the first time, Aladar saw Alyana. He did not see quiet Allen who kept to the side, he saw Alyana, with a mind and opinions and a whole lot of soul and stubbornness. Though his chin did lift a fraction at the way she was addressing him, despite making valid points the whole way through. Yes, they probably would both be dead.

A snort escaped him when she finished, adding the meek and rather rushed ‘sir’ at the end of it. She had heart, and clearly more skill than he had originally anticipated. The woman had so far tended to stay out of trouble. But it boiled down to the fact that she was a female, and not a gifted one either so there really was no excuse to allow her to stay. But... he glanced at Tendral for a split moment before back at her.

Tendral had come from a bad home situation, an abusive one really and he had sought refuge in the army. And Aladar had not turned him down. How could he have those years ago when the youth had been practically begging him to allow him into the company, lanky and clumsy, but desperate. What made Alyana any different other than being a woman? Nothing. Nothing did. So against his own judgement, he gave a grunt and nod, “Fine. You stay. But! You have to keep up with the rest of the men and if you get any kind of injury, you come to me or Lebuin. Is that understood?”

She may never come to realize it, but Tendral inadvertently saved her from getting kicked out. Then again, neither would the soldier, but his experience and friendship with the Captain had been the deciding factor.

It was then, hand coming to rub across his forehead while trying to figure out if he was doing the right thing that he noticed her cut. It had been obviously tended but still. “Come over here,” he instructed her, motioning her in his direction. On a normal day, he would have gotten up and gone over to her, but considering he was bed ridden at the moment, it wasn’t really an option. Despite all the trouble caused, he now saw her as a woman and therefore had a greater need to make sure she was alright, though he would never admit it.

Instead, for the first time, he allowed his gaze to fall to his bandaged leg, gazing over the area that was causing him his pain. And it wasn’t that he wasn’t hurting... he was in quite a bit of pain, but as long as he didn’t move, he could hide it well enough. He shifted his attention from it and over to Tendral, “Let me talk with her alone. Go get my letter and bring it back,” Aladar instructed to which the soldier nodded, eyed Alyana for a moment before disappearing outside to leave the Captain alone with the woman who was causing so much trouble.

She didn't miss his snort as she finished speaking, his apparent amusement causing her teeth to clench in fear as she waited for the inevitable, "Go home." She was so certain of what he would say that when he finally did speak after the long silence, she misheard him at first, her shoulders slumped visibly in defeat as she started to try to change his mind. "Sir, please, I-" Then she fell silent, her brow furrowed as his actual words began to make sense. The desperation in her eyes changed to confusion, and she leaned forward uncertainly, her grip on the blankets loosening so that the one draped over her head fell back, exposing her full face and short, wild red hair.

"D-did you say I could stay?" she asked softly with wide eyes, hardly daring to believe him. What had changed his mind? Surely it hadn't been her prior display of blatant disrespect... But what did she really care at this point? He agreed to let her stay, and to keep her secret. That was better than she could have ever hoped... Gradually, as if she still wasn't fully sure that she believed him, she dared to show a hopeful, grateful smile, the subtle fear that had been ever-present in her eyes seeming to disappear briefly for perhaps the first time in years. There were conditions for her being allowed to stay, but she didn't hesitate to agree to them with a nod of her head, considering she would have tried her best to do those things anyways. Lebuin was the only medic she knew she could trust now, and she was already trying to keep up with the men. She had been fitting in well, too, rarely lagging behind in anything except those exercises requiring brute strength... Or when she was hungover, as had been made abundantly clear by the sparring incident.

"I will, Captain," she said with a relieved and grateful grin, though it made the small wound on her cheek sting from the movement. She let out a slightly shaky sigh, trying to force muscles tensed with anxiety to relax. She was safe... As safe as she could be. He wasn't going to send her home... Oh, her life would be a bit different here now, for sure. The captain knew her secret, and she wasn't so blind as to not notice him treating her differently since her discovery. He'd have to be careful with that, they both would. If he treated her any differently around the others, the ones who could never know, her place here could be in jeopardy.

As she thought that, her mind suddenly full of all the possible ways this could go wrong now that there were so many variables, the captain spoke again, calling her over to him. Wincing at the thought of moving sore, stiff muscles, she mumbled an unenthusiastic "Yes, sir," before shifting most of the blankets into a pile on the cot beside her. She kept one, wrapped loosely around her shoulders and draped over her upper body, for warmth and out of habit, holding the blanket closed near her chest with one hand.

Slowly, clearly stiff and finding it difficult to move still, she moved her legs to hang over the side of the cot before forcing herself to stand. Her free hand rested briefly against the frame of the cot until she was sure that her legs were steady beneath her. Then she walked over to the captain's cot, standing somewhat awkwardly nearby. Her legs shook a bit under her, her muscles twitching and trembling as they were used for the first time since the ordeal of spending the night in the snow. Which seemed far less traumatic when one thought of it that way.

She could see the bandages on his leg more clearly from here, and she winced at the size and apparent severity of the injury. She remembered how he hadn't been able to put any weight on it when the wound was inflicted, and she remembered seeing exposed muscle... It would be a slow recovery for him. Aladar spoke to Tendral, sending him away, and Alyana watched the taller soldier go, noting how he looked at her with something she perceived as distrust. Now, why on earth wouldn't he trust her? It wasn't like she'd lied to them for years...

She sighed softly, pushing the thought away as she turned back to the captain, where he sat. She moved hesitantly to where he could see her without turning his head, and offered a slightly sheepish smile. "What did you want to talk to me about, sir?" she asked.

Brown eyes watched the woman as she slowly got to her feet. He was quick to notice how she held the blanket almost as a defense gesture to still conceal who she was, which was understandable. She had been hiding her identity... how long? Three years about? Nor did it escape his attention that she seemed stiff, which was to be expected after what had happened. They were both lucky, no, blessed that it hadn’t been worse. An ironic thought coming from a man who would be limping for a while to come and was in immense pain. But they could be dead... damaged beyond repair... or he could have lost his leg. But none of that had happened.

When she got closer and stopped, Aladar began to second guess calling her over, noticing the slight trembling in her limbs. He lifted his gaze in time to catch her own staring at his leg, her clear wince more than visible as his eyes fell back to the burning limb. For some reason, he reached for the blanket and threw it over the appendage, covering it from view. He didn’t really know why considering he was still sitting up with no shirt on.

When she moved to a place where he didn’t have to crane his head, he was grateful. However, he still motioned for her to come right up to the cot. “Sit,” he instructed, patting the bed, gritting his teeth immediately knowing the shift of the bed would not be comfortable. Which he was right about, feeling the very small movement as if someone was tearing into his leg. Enough so that he bent over for a second, fingers pushing through his hair as his body clearly tensed.

However, he quickly straightened up again with a slight clearing of his throat and a wince, acting as if nothing had happened. The Captain looked her over once more before taking a breath, the pain easing back down to the dull roar. Reaching out, his fingers touched her chin, pushing her face to the side some so he could inspect the decent sized scar she had on her cheek. He was careful not to touch the tender area around it, though it was clear he was making sure it had been treated well.

Hand dropping, he let out another breath, taking a moment. “Do you have any other injuries?” he asked before reaching out again, fingers wrapping around the blanket she held close. “Let me see you for who you,” he instructed, giving it a gentle tug. It was painfully obvious that he was already wearing out, but determination and stubbornness were his friends. Knowing she was a woman changed... everything. She needed more attention now in his mind, but he knew he had to be careful as well to keep her secret. And if his own superiors found out... it could really go either way.

“You will be released before I will. And you will no doubt be a celebrity. It is highly unlikely that the soldiers won’t find out that you saved my life. You’ll have to be prepared for that.” At this point he was just talking without much else to say. What could he say really in this situation? And he wasn’t about to admit he called her over just to give her his own thorough inspection.

When Tendral returned, it was a relief, Aladar waving for Alyana to return to her own cot. “Tendral, help her back to her bed.” The soldier nodded, handing the letter to the Captain before moving over to the woman to help her, saying nothing. “And when you are done, you are welcome to get some fresh air or rest of your own. Chances are I will be sleeping soon anyway.”

He'd noticed her staring at his leg, and he didn't like it, his movements quick and almost jerky as he pulled the blanket over his bandaged leg. Was it that he didn't want her seeing his weakness, or that he didn't want to look at it himself? Both were viable options, she supposed, though the captain had never seemed to be an overly prideful man. He seemed to put the well-being of his soldiers above his own, from what she'd seen when the two of them were stranded in the bitter cold. So it was possible that he just didn't want her worrying about him...

Either way, she murmured a soft, "Sorry," as if she had offended him by looking at his bandaged leg.

Still, she wondered why he had called her over here, and as he asked her to sit, she hesitated for a moment. Alyana noticed the subtle tightening around the edges of his eyes, as if he was preparing himself for pain, and as she gingerly sat on the edge of his cot, that pain was all too visible though he tried to hide it. She saw the way he leaned forward, his fingers running through his tangled hair (which, at the moment, was notably longer than hers) as his strong frame tensed in pain. But in a moment, he had recovered, his expression returning to neutral as he sat straight again and looked her over. She felt his eyes scanning over her, lingering on the cut on her face.

Was this why he had called her over, to check for injuries? When he reached out to touch her chin and turn her face to the side, Ali's first reaction was to flinch away from him. Why, she wasn't sure, she'd never be able to explain it in words. But in this moment, his gentle touch brought back too many ghosts of her past. Her eyes flashed with fear for a brief moment before seeming to realize that this man, the captain she'd served under for three years now, would not hurt her. When he pulled his hand away, apparently satisfied that the wound had been well-tended, she looked away, an attempt to hide the look in her eyes as she quickly pulled herself together.

"No, sir," she said with a slight shake of her head. "None, except that one. I didn't even notice when it happened, I suppose."

He was reaching out again, gently tugging at the edge of the blanket she had so tightly wrapped around herself. Concealing what? She knew she was only carrying it around at the moment out of habit, so she nodded silently, slowly releasing her death grip on the thick cloth and sliding it off to one side. Leaving the blanket where it lay in a small pile on his cot, she clasped her hands in her lap, taking a shaky breath and looking up at him again.

"My full name is Alyana Tirfallen," she offered softly, along with a hesitant smile that she still didn't fully feel. She felt impossibly awkward, more exposed than she had felt in years, and yet it was an immense weight lifted from her shoulders. No longer was she suffering alone... She'd just transferred some of her burden to a man who didn't deserve to carry any more emotional strain than he already bore. A twinge of guilt tugged at her briefly, but she sighed softly, trying to ignore it. "Before I came here, most people I knew called me Ali. You're welcome to do the same, sir, if you'd prefer."

But he was speaking again, the tone of his voice changing as he tired. His words were almost dismissive, and it was clear that their conversation was nearly over, so she nodded in response. "I'll simply tell them the truth," she said with a faint smile that she still didn't really feel. "No sense in encouraging wild rumors."

When Tendral returned, the tall man nearly having to duck to step through the entrance into the small tent, Alyana moved to stand, taking extreme care to avoid jostling Aladar's leg. The captain asked Tendral to help her to her bed, but Ali somwhat politely declined the man's help, feeling a bit stronger at the moment and wanting to try to walk the few steps to her cot by herself. She succeeded, pulling herself into the pile of warm blankets and seeming to melt into them again, once more marveling at how much more comfortable the cot was than her usual sleeping arrangements.

"I could get used to this," she attempted to joke with a faint smile, glancing over at the captain. "A lot better than sleeping on the ground." As she looked over at him, her pale eyes landed on the letter he now held in his hand. The name on it had been smudged by melting snow, and she thought she saw a faint splotch of blood on one corner, but the envelope could still be easily read. Naomi.

Attempting to make small talk for a few more minutes before she tried to get some more rest as well, she decided that now of all times would be a good time to ask the captain about her.

"So... Naomi. Your wife? Just a girl from back home?" She tilted her head slightly as she watched him, gradually shifting her position until she was curled up on her side again, half-buried in blankets.

Having her drop the blanket didn’t really do much besides give him a chance to see her real figure. Which as just an observation was a lovely one, and it seemed to fit her quite well. There was one thing for sure about Alyana and that was that she was built sturdy, and so far had not shown too much of weak spot compared to others minus the fight during her hangover and a slight general weakness in comparison. But it had satisfied him that she had given him her full real name and opened up enough to let him look at her.

He had also noticed the slight flinch she had given when he reached out, but labeled it as her face being slightly tender, which made sense. But at the moment, most of it had stopped really mattering as she made her way to her own cot, the Captain finally easing himself back to a lying position, groaning as he did so. He told Tendral he would sleep but he was starting to doubt he would be getting any rest in his condition. So he held his letter instead, gazing at the slightly smudged name and small bloodstain. He hoped the contents were safe...

“A lot of things are better after the army life,” he commented in return, fingers running over the name as he got a strange wave of homesickness. He had stopped having those a while ago, but a while ago he wasn’t in such pain. It had been a long time since he had to deal with what he was going through and he was finding comfort in the familiar handwriting. He missed his sister and his mother. His sister who had become his best friend. And the woman who had raised him, taught him to care and look beyond himself. Even his brother-in-law who absolutely drove him insane. Anything out of this damned war.

Tendral, knowing the Captain well, noticed the fall in mood and quietly dismissed himself. Some things were just better to let the man deal with himself, at least from another soldier’s perspective, leaving the two in the tent alone. And for a moment, there was silence, brown eyes still staring at the envelope for a while, tracing over the name multiple times with his gaze, searching for that comfort he was seeking before even opening it.

Alyana’s question caught him off guard for a moment and he grunted, lowering the letter and staring up at the ceiling to process what she had asked. Naomi. Was Naomi his wife? Once he actually realized what she was asking he let out a soft snort, a ghost of a smile lifting at his lips. “I’m not married, but I can tell you, she is a girl from back at home.” Which was one-hundred percent true. “Well, more of a refined woman with the brightest smile and sparkling eyes.” A sigh escaped him, finding some of the comfort in talking about her, though he was also finding a little fun in playing hard to get with the information.

His words were slightly tense and scratchy, but not because of mood, just pain. Still, he talked, finding it as a bit of a distraction now that he had a topic to converse about. “I’ve never met anyone with quite her sense of humor, nor anyone who has such a deep kindness. Though I admit, she made it her goal in life to be the bane of my existence, but always in the best of ways.” His eyes closed and he seemed to relax some. “Last I checked, she believed she was pregnant as well. When I read it, I suppose I will be finding out.”

He craned his neck forward to get a glimpse of the woman, chuckling though that stopped quickly in lieu of a groan and his head falling back to the pillow. “Naomi is my sister,” he finally clarified, a hiss escaping between his teeth before he relaxed again, pulling the letter close to his chest. “We’ve been writing back and forth since I joined as a foot soldier.”

The captain seemed to fall silent after responding to her comment about sleeping on the ground, his gaze pondering over the letter he held in his hands. She couldn't read the expression on his face, and Tendral seemed to know something she didn't, because she noticed as the tall soldier politely dismissed himself and left the tent. It was just the two of them now; Alyana who would likely be released in the next few hours, and the captain who would probably need to stay for several days from what she understood, until he was a bit more mobile and his leg was in less danger of infection.

When he seemed somewhat downtrodden, looking at the letter with an unreadable expression on his face, she wasn't sure what to say, so she stayed silent, shifting ever so slightly among the blankets on the cot and trying to find a more comfortable position. Eventually, she found one, settled beneath at least four blankets with another bunched up as a makeshift pillow under her head as she looked over to the captain again.

He spoke then, and she could see the faint, amused smile on his face, though still tainted by the pain and somewhat wistful look he'd shown a few moments before. He said he wasn't married, and Alyana pushed herself up on her elbows a bit to see his face and hear him better. Her brow furrowed slightly as he continued to nearly tease her with the information, though she pretended quite well that she didn't care. If Naomi was his sweetheart back home, so be it. It wasn't like Alyana had a chance with him, he was her captain, and she was sure that he saw her as nothing more than something else to make his life difficult.

One eyebrow raised slightly when the captain mentioned that this girl from home might be pregnant, and it was the first time she doubted him somewhat. She knew, vaguely, that he was somewhat of a moral man, most likely religious, and that he wouldn't be one to have a child out of wedlock. It just seemed to be very out of character for him, and Ali decided at that point that the woman he was describing was not, in fact, his sweetheart.

He confirmed it for her a moment later, telling her that
Naomi was his sister, and she nodded with a faint, tired smile before laying her head down again. "Well, I hope the letter is good news for your sake, sir," she said, closing her eyes. "She sounds like a wonderful person."

And then the girl was asleep within moments, still regaining her strength from the hypothermia she'd suffered.

---

"So there I was," the girl slurred, leaning against one of the thicker tent posts as a small crowd of soldiers gathered around her, listening to and believing every word of the outlandish tale the drunken soldier was telling them. And for once, Alyana relished the attention, one hand curled loosely around the flask she held and the other gesturing wildly as she attempted to recreate the scene. "There I was, 'n the cap'n was hurt, 'n there were still a bunch of 'em left, five or ten or sum'thin like that. So I was fightin'..." A pause to clumsily move her arm that was holding the flask in a way that vaguely resembled a swipe of a sword, though the movement caused her to lose her balance in a drunken stagger, "And I was tryin' to stay alive, and the cap'n was yellin', and then all a sudden it was over, and it got real quiet... And they were all dead, must'a been fifteen of 'em."

The story had started off as the truth, a few days ago right after the incident, but with the captain still mostly out of commission and no one around to keep her story straight, she twisted a few details. It was innocent enough at first, but eventually her exaggerations grew to these proportions, no doubt aided by her current heavily intoxicated state. It had been a rough day for her again, and as soon as she'd finished her tasks around the camp, she'd gone back to her bad habit; sitting quietly in some dark corner and drinking herself into a stupor.

But her coping had been interrupted by a couple of soldiers coming up to her and asking Allen to tell them what had happened when he saved the captain... And it all went downhill from there, ending up here, with her enthusiastically telling a highly exaggerated version of the rather unglamorous story, nearly too drunk to stand. Her clothes were disheveled though luckily still thick enough to hide the shape of her feminine figure, and her hair, though cut short, was a mess. The dim candlelight in the tent reflected off of her flushed, bright red cheeks, and one of her hands rested casually against the tent post as she used it to balance herself and hold herself up. Not that it was working well.

The soldiers around her seemed to be in awe for the most part, though a few of the smarter and more skeptical ones scoffed at "Allen's" outlandish story and heavily drunken state, shaking their heads and wandering off to do more useful things.

Aladar was tired. He had been for days, ever since he first woke up after being treated. At first, much of his time had been occupied by sleeping, managing pain, and talking with Alyana. But that lasted only a few hours before she was released to join the others again. Which left him to just sleep and manage the pain for a while, bringing back the homesickness. Reading the letter had brought him some more comfort, hearing that Naomi was in fact pregnant. All good news. If only he had better things to write back...

He wrote his own letter and slept most of his time after that. Tendral often came in to check on him, but Aladar sent him out each time. Not because the man didn’t want his friend, but because he didn’t want the soldier feeling the obligation and not getting to spend the time with the others. So despite wanting his company, he was sent out. Which also saved him from having to hide his pain, the man suffering most of the time, though the medics had come in and managed to dull it briefly once or twice.

And now to both his irritation and relief, Lebuin had come in with a cane, instructing him it was time for him to get on his feet. Relief because he was sick and tired of being in a bed all day, but irritated because he knew it was going to hurt like no tomorrow. But the Captain moved his leg of the bed, growling under his breath as he shifted onto his good leg, the left one already burning and causing him immense pain, but he was managing.

Tendral came in while Aladar was easing into a standing position, the tall man quickly moving to his side to offer him a supporting hand. And the Captain needed it, lashing out the moment he was in an upright position, even tentative weight causing him to want to sit back down, except a stubborn med and soldier were on either side of him forcing him to get used to the pressure before he was given a cane and helped out of the tent, Lebuin leaving Tendral to help the man who was now moving at a slow pace on his own.

His limp was heavy and the snow made navigating even more miserable, the Captain’s face almost stuck in a wince, with a decent amount of groans along the way. At one point, Tendral got snapped at again to let him do it himself, to which the soldier complied, though still stood with arms length. It also annoyed Aladar that he was exhausting, though one lanky friend was quick to help with his mood.

“How about a spar, sir? I think I can win this time.”

A glare was shot towards the soldier, but Aladar’s lips lifted slightly despite his grimace and he gave a grunt. “I could still beat you into the ground any day,” he grumbled, voice scratchy and his pain evident but he was working through it. It was the only way and he decided that at least he could go visit the main tent and greet some of the soldiers.

Which was what brought him inside in time to see a decent crowd gathered around, an all too familiar voice practically shouting. Alyana... his eyes narrowed as he moved forward, catching onto the story being told. All the work Tendral had put into soothing him vanished as soldiers moved out of the way, murmuring slightly as he made his way to the drunk woman. Was she REALLY saying there were fifteen men? Four... there had been four! Scouts.

By the time he reached her, his pain was rather intense and Tendral reached out to steady him, which was both good and bad. Good because Aladar leaned into the arm offered him. Bad because he leaned to lift his cane, the long stick cracking against the back of her head. “ALLEN!” he snarled, “I would speak to you...” The cane was back on the ground as he leaned on it again, turning. “In my tent....”

Yes, he was done with the stupid infirmary tent and was heading back to his own. He was rather slow but he had Tendral help her instead of himself, to make sure the drunk female actually made it to the right place. It took a while but they made it there, the man moving through the flaps and easing himself onto the edge of the bed to sit, leaning the cane to the side.

“Let me talk to her in private,” he instructed Tendral who nodded and left once Alyana was in. Aladar looked her over, shaking his head. “You are going to have to learn to control yourself, do you understand me?”

Hearing a slight commotion near the entrance of the tent, Alyana looked up, briefly standing on tiptoe to peer over the heads of the taller men that stood around her. Her words trailed off, her gaze hyper-focused on the man who was currently limping towards her with a furious expression. And despite the impending danger, the anger contained in his quick, jerky movements, for a moment she was just so glad to see the captain on his feet again that her eyes lit up with genuine happiness. A grin spread slowly across her reddened face, and she had just opened her mouth to utter some slurred greeting when she seemed to realize that he was rather angry at her.

She didn't have time to react before his cane made contact with the back of her head, and she stumbled away from him, losing her balance and sinking to one knee before she clumsily caught herself with a delayed yelp. One hand moved up to rub the sore spot, her face twisted into a grimace as she started to try to get up again. "Oww!" she lightly hissed, her brow furrowed as she wrinkled her nose at him. It took her a lot longer than it should have to pick herself up off of the ground, as her balance seemed to have simply vanished, but eventually she was able to pull herself up by using the convenient tent pole as a support.

"I'm comin', I'm comin'..." she muttered, eventually putting two and two together to figure out why he was angry at her. And in a brief moment where she could think straight, she did feel a bit of remorse, for spreading the very rumors she'd been told to avoid and for letting things get out of hand. But just like that, the moment was gone. Alyana begrudgingly dropped her flask of alcohol, leaving it in the general vicinity of her other possessions in the vague hope of coming back to it later when the captain was done scolding. Then, admittedly stumbling over her own feet, she trailed after Aladar, jerking sharply away from Tendral when he tried to offer his help as he was told. She was fine, she could walk perfectly fine on her own... Just... a bit slower. And a lot less coordinated. Not that she cared.

The bitter cold was a slap in the face as she exited the tent, and she squinted against the wind, glaring at the gray, cloudy sky and muttering something about the weather, though her words were too badly slurred to be understood. Again, not that she cared.

Eventually, she found her way to the captain's tent, though the snow fought her feet every step of the way. She staggered into the tent right behind him, and leaned back against the table when he sat on the edge of the bed. He looked at her, and she tried to meet his gaze, her head tilting to one side in an attempt to focus on him better. It didn't work, but in her mind it did, so that's all that mattered at the moment as she visibly fought to stay still and on her feet.

"Why would I do that?" she asked with a crooked grin, her hair falling slightly in front of her eyes. She reached up clumsily and brushed it out of her face, blinking a couple of times and leaning back a bit before seeming to be able to focus on him again. She squinted slightly as she stared at his face, her gaze eventually moving to his muscular arms and chest, and something in her expression changed. Her smile shifted to become more mischievous and almost flirty... In a weird way.

And before she even recognized what she was doing, she acted on the first thought that came into her mind, stepping forward and closing the distance between them. Sitting beside him on the bed with no hesitation at all, she reached out to run her fingers lightly over his bicep, grinning up at him.

"You're real cute when you're mad, y'know..." she trailed off, giggling under her breath. "I like it."

Aladar knew she was drunk, obvious by the fact that she had been basically as slow as he had been getting to the tent. That and her utterly ridiculous rendition of what had happened. But he didn’t realize how drunk she was, evident by her immediate response to his instructing her to control herself. For a moment his face blanked, not sure what to say, only twitching with the pain in his leg.

“You would do that because...” he trailed, brows furrowing as her expression changed. Not only did it change but it was clear she was not paying attention. No, she was... ogling him! A man did not grow up with a sister without learning quickly enough what her expressions meant. He lifted his hand, one finger raised. “No... no, you listen to me right now Alyana...”

But it was clear it was as if he didn’t say anything as she started towards him. “That was not an invitation,” he growled, voice dropping a note, wincing as a twinge of pain shot up his leg, earning a soft grunt. And it did NOT help that Alyana decided to sit, no plop, down next to him, shifting the whole bed. Aladar let out a gasp and groan, gritting his teeth as his face contorted, head tilting as he closed his eyes, hand instinctively reaching for the pained appendage.

And she clearly took that as an invitation to run her fingers along his bicep. His eyes snapped open, glaring at her as his head turned to face her. Pulling his arm away, he pointed his finger in her face. “You... you, young woman, are in a whole lot of trouble do you understand me?” he bit out, his voice even scratchier than before, words close to being slightly broken up and hitched. Perhaps if he hadn’t been in pain, he may have found it amusing but at the moment he wasn’t overly finding the humor in it. At the moment. Later he probably would.

Why did this feel like he was dealing with.... not a soldier? Because he wasn’t... he was dealing with a drunk female who was very clearly feeling her femininity.

Snatching up his cane, he hefted himself back onto his good leg, growling as he did so. “Get up... I have just the thing for you if you are looking for a good time.” Hobbling rather pitifully, he brought her to the front of the tent, stopping. “Give me your coat.... and your boots. NOW.” His voice was tense and held no room for disobedience.

“And now ALLEN, you are going to sit your butt down outside my tent, in the snow. And you are not leaving until you are sober enough not to go admiring every one of my soldiers and getting us both in trouble, do you understand?” He pointed to the flaps of his tent. “And WHEN you have your sense about you, you can come back in to get your stuff, which I will be keeping close to me so don’t try staggering in her drunk to try and grab anything, understand me?” The end of his instructions were being huffed out, the struggle quite real with his exhaustion.

Grumbling under his breath, he limped back to his bed where he eased himself down on his familiar cot. The coat and boots were placed on the table next to it while he leaned his cane against it. And now came the real struggle. Getting his legs onto the bed... there was a moment of hesitation before gritting his teeth and reaching down to pull his leg up. “DAMN IT!” It was snarled loudly from the pain as he bent forward with the leg stretched out across the cot now. There was a heavy groan as he took a deep breath, mumbling some words as was his strange habit before he collapsed back onto the bed.

He said... something. She wasn't paying attention, to be honest. It was hard to concentrate on anything at the moment, so she didn't try. His body language was enough to tell her that he didn't like where this was going, but that was okay, because she never really intended for it to go anywhere. She just wanted to see what would happen... And her drunken actions did somewhat reflect her sober thoughts, just... taken to the absolute extreme.

For once, she didn't seem to notice his pain, as he bit back his groan, his face twisted in pain as his hand moved to his leg. It was probably the first time she'd seemed to careless and nearly callous towards him, a stark contrast to the day the two of them had been found in the snow. Then, even when she could barely find the energy and willpower to keep her eyes open, she'd still checked on him at every noise, every quickened breath, every sign of pain.

But right now... In this wretched state she'd gotten herself in, to escape from the harsh reality of life and memories that haunted her... There was none of that tenderness in her touch. The grin on her face wasn't real, it did nothing to take away the pain that still lingered in her eyes. Nothing... Her pain replaced by numb emptiness and false happiness, which in turn would leave nothing but more pain and regret when it faded. This was what the girl had been reduced to, a vicious cycle of highs and lows, so desperately dependent on a superficial bandage that temporarily relieved the dull ache inside of her but also slowly stole everything she was.

She dealt with her problems in her own way.

Blinking again in a vain attempt to focus on him, she scowled lightly when he pulled his arm away from her, her shoulders slumped. "Oh?" she asked, nothing challenging about her tone, merely genuinely confused and questioning. Why? She didn't do anything wrong... What was so wrong? She knew... And yet she couldn't wrap her mind around it.

Before she could comprehend it, the captain was on his feet again, leaning heavily against his cane as he hobbled towards the door and ordered her to give him her coat and boots. Reluctantly, she stood and followed, pausing briefly to lean against the edge of the bed and find her balance. The dim light in the tent was starting to hurt her eyes, and it was getting to where things didn't really make sense to her anymore. But she was still in the phase where she was okay with things not making sense to her.

She grumbled under her breath as she slipped her coat off, dropping it carelessly in his hands. To take her boots off, she had to sit, fumbling fingers messing with the buckles to loosen them before she clumsily pulled them off of her feet and left them on the ground near the captain. It never occurred to her that he wouldn't be able to lean over and pick them up.

Then, with a scathing glare in Aladar's direction, she stumbled outside and sat down in the snow, almost immediately regretting every decision she'd made that day as her bare feet made contact with the bitter cold. She hissed in displeasure at first, whimpering quietly as the icy wind cut through her clothing. Eventually, she found a somewhat bearable position; cross-legged with her feet tucked close to her and partially off of the snow.

And she sulked.

And shivered.

And eventually, when her thoughts became clearer and she was once again convinced that she was an absolute and utter failure, she figured that she was sick and tired of sitting out here in the cold. Shaking and crossing her arms tightly in front of her chest for warmth, she slowly got up, nearly falling over the first time not due to drunkenness but stiffened muscles. She'd been sitting out here for a while, she lost track of time but it had been probably longer than the captain had expected her to.

When she stepped into the warmth of his tent again, visibly shaking, she wouldn't make eye contact with him, just hesitantly approached him and meekly asked for her coat and boots. Her voice shook violently, her shoulders trembling from cold and barely restrained tears, the emotional toll of the day catching up to her all at once in her moment of weakness. Her entire attitude was just... defeated. A voice in the back of her mind taunted her, mocked her for going back to the same old thing, the same old habits that were slowly destroying her. What if, one day, there was just nothing left?

What then?

She waited for his response and permission before grabbing the coat and boots herself so he wouldn't have to get up.