My Fandom In Color

“Think of it as a second in command. Someone who can share the burden of your leadership. I can only help so much when it comes to managing the Arling.” Varel nodded his head toward someone approaching from down the hall. Zukal turned over her shoulder see none other than Nathaniel making his way over.

“Glad I caught you both. I thought Zukal would be barricaded back in her study by now,” he said, looking down at her with a faint twitch to his lips.

“I think I may prefer to be.” Zukal gathered her gauntlets and notebook into her arms, prepared to set off down the hall. “What do you need, Nathaniel? Can Varel handle it? I’m trying not to stay up the entire night.”

“It’s about the next Deep Roads mission,” he replied.

Varel offered her an apologetic look, but there was a light in his eye that puzzled her. He glanced between Howe and herself as if there was some game afoot. A game she clearly had yet to learn the rules of.

“Follow me to my study,” she said reluctantly.

“Think on what I’ve said, Commander,” Varel called after them.

“Sure,” she grumbled back, waving over her shoulder at him.

Once back in her study, she motioned for Nathaniel to shut the door behind him as she threw her gauntlets down onto a nearby chair. “You’ll have to forgive me for a moment, but I’ve been constrained in this damned formal armor all blighted day,” she announced, unbuckling and shedding off the tabbard and chest plate that had been belted onto her since early that morning. The pieces joined the growing pile in the chair as she tugged her gambeson off over her head.

“I certainly hope that’s as far as you’re undressing?” he laughed nervously.

Zukal glanced down at herself, leather breeches and a tunic the only remaining layers left. “I suppose this is plenty,” she shrugged, moving toward her desk. “So what’s the problem with this upcoming mission?”

“It’s who you’ve assigned!” he cried, leaning over her desk.

“What problem do you have with my assignments? It’s a matter of rotation. That’s the only way to keep it fair.” She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest, unimpressed with this attempt at intimidation.

“You’ve assigned too many junior wardens to this mission,” he explained. “The only veterans on the squadron are Gordan and Velanna.”

“That can’t be right,” she said, shuffling through the piles of papers that littered her desk. “I’m sure I assigned at least four more.”

Nathaniel easily plucked the sheet of parchment that held her original list and the crossed-out notes that lined its margins. “Maybe originally, but you crossed several off. Did you review this before you turned it in to the quarter master?”

She snatched the list out of his hands and pored over it. Sure enough, there had been more veterans assigned to the squadron, but most had been crossed off. Small notes in the margins told the story. Small requests had come in one after another, and before she’d realized it, she’d removed more than she intended.

“Blight it all. I’m never going to hear the end of this from Varel,” she muttered under her breath, tossing the paper back down onto her desk.

“This isn’t like you,” Nathaniel said, finally taking one of the seats across from her. “What’s going on?”

“Too many tasks and not enough hours in the day, it seems,” she sighed.

Nathaniel picked up the list again. She watched his pale eyes wash over the page, the lines in his brow deepening the further down the page they drifted. “Did you even attempt to say ‘No’ to any of these requests for postponement?”

“I don’t even remember. I was in the middle of doing something else and just needed them to leave so I could keep getting work done.” A yawn forced its way up through her lungs, startling her in its ferocity.

“Why wasn’t I considered for this mission?” he asked, looking up at her intensely enough to startle her.

“I don’t know, I don’t think it’s your turn?”

“It’s been more than enough time for me to take my turn below,” he said.

“Well, if you’re volunteering,” she said, sighing and picking up her pen. But she hesitated. A strange reluctance pushed its way into her ribs, flooding her with an anxiousness thinking of Nathaniel not being there for a time. The Deep Roads were no less dangerous than they’d been during the Fifth Blight. Did she really intend to send someone she considered one of her closest confidants into the maw of the dragon?

“What’s wrong?” he asked, noticing her hesitance.

“It’s nothing,” she lied, shaking her head. “I’m just tired.”

Nathaniel was staring at her. She could feel it, heating her cheeks as he watched her intensely, waiting for her to write out his name.

“Zukal,” he began, reaching out a hand to place it overtop of hers as it hovered above the page. “If you asked me to stay, I’d stay. I think you know that.” She looked up, meeting his eye with surprise. “I think that’s why you’re not asking.”

For a moment, she intended to protest, to insist that it was fine, he could go, and things would be fine. But he was right. To admit it, though, she had to be vulnerable, and she hated that feeling more than anything.

“You don’t have to do everything on your own,” Varel had said.

Straightening up suddenly, Zukal felt incredibly awake as the seneschal’s words fell into place. Perhaps this was what he intended.

“You’re right,” she said, noticing his eyes widen with surprise at her admittance. “I need you. Here.”

Nathaniel suddenly seemed at a loss for words, a flush darkening his cheeks as he tripped over his tongue. “I don’t think I expected—”

“Be my Constable.”

“Your what?”

“My Constable, my second in command,” she affirmed.

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“Nonsense. Who else would I ask?”

“Velanna—”

“Hates most people before she even meets them,” Zukal countered.

“Sigrun—”

“Cute, but no,” she scoffed.

“Oghren?”

“Please, be serious.”

“Why me?”

“Why not? Would you trust anyone else to do it?” she asked.

Nathaniel sat back, in dazed shock, as he brushed his hands back through his dark hair.

“You don’t have to answer now. Take some time to think—”

“You’re right,” he interrupted.

“Of course I am, but what about if you don’t mind?” Zukal asked.

Nathaniel picked up a wooden figure from the desk and chucked it at her. Zukal dodged it, laughing loudly.

“I don’t trust anyone else to do it, you idiot,” he replied. “But now I’m second guessing.”

“Awww, now don’t be like that. Think how much fun you’ll have keeping my arse in line?” she teased.

“Don’t you have work to do?” he reminded her.

Zukal glanced down at the notebook she’d carried in with her, remembering the clerical tasks that still lay ahead of her. “Maker’s blighted arse crack.”

He picked up the book and cracked it open, nodding for her to pick up her pen. “Come on, we can get this done twice as fast together, then get your arse to bed.”

Zukal intended to protest, but the serious look on his face made her stop, a pang striking her heart as she felt a deep appreciation for the man. Truly she had no better option for this role.