#fortis

"Alright. This is a good choice," Fortis says, looking around the hollow Aderyn has led them to. "You've got about five minutes of breathing space here. Time to call it in, then figure out where you're going next. What code are you sending?" Aderyn takes a breath. "Code gold, cuz it's Martin. Uh. It's not 'actual', cuz no one's directly tried to harm us yet… Shit, what's the word…? Impending. Then I give the location: Northbound B6721. And a description: forced off road, fleeing on foot." She looks at Fortis who nods. "And all together?" "Code gold, impending. Forced off road, Northbound B6721, fleeing on foot." "Good. Now, where are we going?" Aderyn unfolds the map, pointing with the penlight to a grid square. "We're here? Ish?" "That's fine. You can give a 6-figure reference when you're more certain." "There's a," she squints at the map, "Scout hut here. That's where we're aiming for." "Okay. What direction?"

Aderyn folds the map down to just that page, puts the penlight in her teeth and pulls out her phone. Fortis plucks it from her grip. She spits out the penlight. "What the fuck?" "Phone broke in the crash. There's no GPS." "Then how did I send the SMS to call it in?" Fortis rubs the back of his neck. "C'mon, Rook. I need to know you can do without." "Fine." Aderyn rummages in her bag and pulls out a compass. Fortis blinks. "It's good to see you're prepared, but…" "You're really gonna tell me my compass is bust too?" "No," Fortis sighs, "but the point of this is to check you can navigate by starlight."

Aderyn gives him a long look and, with a small huff, clicks the torch off, turning her attention upwards. Her gaze rakes the heavens, spangled with glittering points like specks of feldspar in the polished basalt firmament. "There's the Plough," she tracks the constellation with her finger, "and the Little Bear, so that's Polaris. That means…" Aderyn flicks her gaze from the map to the sky, orientating herself and the map, then points towards the open heath, "…we're going that way? I think?" "Little tip, Rook – always sound certain, even if you're not. Your principal is likely scared, they're trusting you to look after them. Don't make them doubt your capabilities." "Right." Aderyn takes a breath, slides the map into her pocket and turns on the charm. "Yeah, we're all good. We're going this way."

–

They tromp across the heath, Aderyn steering Forti's path from behind with one eye on the knotted ground and one on the north star, all the while he's quizzing her on procedure. "What's the code colour for both Mr Septim and Baurus?" Aderyn grins. "Electrum." "Another Blade?" "Black." "Top five things for your go-bag?" "Water, medkit, torch, penknife, lockpicks." "Wrong go-bag." "Lockpicks are always useful." Fortis huffs out a laugh. "You planning on taking your principal on an infil job?" Aderyn starts to laugh but cuts off, a hand clamping on Fortis's shoulder. "Stop!" He freezes. "What's wrong?" "Back up."

Fortis backs up the path they've trod and turns to find Aderyn pulling out the map and torch. "I know the pink ones are broader," she says of the map, "but right now the orange one would have been better." "Talk to me, Rook." "See that fluffy shit?" Fortis looks. From around them have started to sprout what looks like cotton wool tufted on a stick, as bright against the dark heath as the stars above. "Yeah?" "That's bog cotton. If we keep going that way, we're going to end up in a drink. Or down to our hips in mud, if we're unlucky. The orange map would have shown boggy ground." Aderyn shines the torch around her and takes a moment to orientate herself again. "If we go that way, we should be able to skirt it." Fortis cants his head. "That's a good catch, Griffiths."

They fall silent then, navigating the tussocks and gullies. If she squints, Aderyn thinks she can see the lights of the Scout hut through the trees in the distance. They're tantalisingly, frustratingly close. If only it wasn't for the bog between it and them, they'd be home-free by now. They've come dressed for the hike – walking boots, waterproofs and technical gear – but it doesn't stop her feet from soaking through as the water rises calf-level in places. The cold water saps her heat, makes her shiver and ache. Leaping the tussocks, keeping her balance, plotting the route – it all takes effort and concentration, draining even her high energy reserves.

Aderyn's mind wanders, body running on autopilot as it settles into the rhythm of the hike. She thinks about having to do this for real. Martin in his dress shoes and tux, tired already from a party. Thinks about how he'd struggle to jump, tussock to tussock; about how he'd soon be shivering with the cold water and night air, maybe going hypothermic. Thinks about having to do all this with antagonistic gunmen on their tail. Even though he's not even there, her chest constricts. It's only a test, Aderyn reminds herself. But it doesn't stop her legs from wobbling as she leaps. She stumbles, lands knee-deep in the mire, vision spinning. "Anson!" It comes out as a breathless squeak, too soft to carry. Her breathing is laboured, heart racing, fast even for the exercise. The grass is coarse under her hand, the rattle of reeds sinister as they move in the wind. "Rookie?" Fortis is back. Shadows enfold his face, turning his brown eyes to wool-black and highlighting his pinched brow. "Listen to me. If you're injured, I can have med-evac here in twenty." "No. I- Just need a moment," Aderyn says around the pressure on her chest. His fingers find the pulse point on her neck, and his lips move soundlessly as he counts the beats. "I need you to take a nice deep breath for me. Can you do that?" Aderyn nods, heaves in a breath. "Good. Another." The pressure binding her chest lifts, the fog that had settled over her thoughts scattering like a cloud of midges in a strong breeze. A bird trills somewhere. Aderyn tastes salt and sediment on her lips, becoming acutely aware of how uncomfortable her position is, of the water creeping up her thigh. "Ready to carry on?" Fortis asks. Aderyn nods, and he helps her stand on legs that tremble still. "Okay?" "I'm good."

–

Finally, they reach firmer ground. A small rise peppered with some kind of sparse, deciduous tree snakes along the edge of the damp lowlands. They stop, taking a drink of water. From here, Aderyn can definitely see the Scout hut. At its back is a boardwalk over the bog, chicken wire grip rimmed by starlight. Aderyn puts her water away. "Not much further. We follow this ridge, then we'll be home free."

The boardwalk is rickety when they get there. The water below is still and black and fathomless as only a heathland pond can be, an obsidian mirror showing only the speckled night above. "It's alright," Aderyn says, as much for her own confidence as anything, and steps gingerly onto the dark planks. They sag but don't give way. She takes a few more steps, then beckons Fortis out. "Just stay to the sides, yeah?" "Quick question, Rook – you do know how to swim, right?" "Yeah, I'm good," she replies, heart in her throat.

When the creaking boards finally give way to solid ground again, Aderyn's relief is palpable. A quick glance at Fortis shows he feels the same, head tipped back, snatching some deep breaths, hand wrapped around his shark tooth necklace. He grins when he realises she's watching him. "I think we need to talk to Mr Septim about a donation to the Scouts here, eh, Rook?" Aderyn grins back, as they start walking towards the gate at the back of the property. "Also about some decent security," she adds, popping the padlock with a shim and a quick flex of the wrist.

–

Ferrum meets them at the door of the hut. He looks them over in the blasting white lights of the security spots, and says, "Wait there." When he returns, it's with two black bin bags. "You're not coming in like that. Clothes," he says, holding the bin bags out. They stand on the concrete porch and strip to their undies, every sopping item going in the bags to be washed later. Which is fair, Aderyn thinks as she peels off her trousers and drops them, thudding wetly, into the bag.

There're clean sweats in the bathroom, and mugs of hot chocolate in the kitchen. "That one is yours, Rook," Ferrum says, pointing to the one with a mountain of whipped cream. Aderyn pulls out the chair and sits. "Sprinkles. You fucking serious?" "I'll swap you," Fortis says, making grabby hands. Aderyn baps him with the spoon. Ferrum leans against the counter. "It's a reward for a job well done. I assume," he looks at Fortis, "she did well?" Fortis kicks his bare feet up onto the table. "There was a little wobble. But yeah, our Little Bird did good." "Wobble?" Ferrum loosens his crossed arms, shoulders tilting towards Aderyn. "Panic attack. Just a baby one-" "Can we not?" Aderyn interrupts, shoulders hunched.

"Hey." Fortis drops his legs and twists in his chair, leaning in. "Aderyn, look at me. Everyone has a moment they go off-axis." Aderyn makes a noise of disbelief. "It's true, Rook," Ferrum rumbles out. "I panicked during an exercise and shot my SO. Blanks, but still." "Caroline was so nervous when she met Ariella Septim, she forgot every English word she knew," Fortis says. "They carried their conversations in French, if I recall," Ferrum says. Aderyn uncurls, easing back in her chair. "What about you?" Fortis rubs the back of his neck. "Me? Ah, can I tell you Pel's instead? Or Baurus?" Ferrum laughs, a low rolling thing. "Christ, was it that bad?" Aderyn asks. "He fainted," Ferrum says. "During little Kintyra's wedding to that milk-water sop, Amiel." Aderyn grins, lopsided. "Wow." "Ah, hush – it was emotional. My point, Rook," Fortis says, "is that compared to some, a little panic attack is nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed by. You were with me, during basic training in a somewhat controlled environment. Not on your own, in a far more dangerous situation, like the Crisis. Quite frankly, I'm impressed it's taken until now." Aderyn plays with a loose threat on her jumper. "Crisis was easy. Well, I mean – y'know. I only had me to worry about. Not B or Gramps. Or Martin." Ferrum murmurs in understanding. Fortis lifts his chin. "Ah." "I don't think I'm cut out for a Blade," Aderyn says, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Hey, it's late." Fortis squeezes her shoulder. "Drink your cocoa, get some sleep, and you can think about this later when you've got a fresh brain. Okay?" "Yeah, alright." Aderyn picks up the spoon, rescuing melted cream dribbling down the side of the mug.