It was late in the morning, and Aggie was thinking for the twentieth time how she wouldn’t mind getting to stretch her legs. She had been once again tied up standing against the tree in the centre of the camp since first light of day. She faced back towards Harry, Borris, and Champ’s tents, in the cold that seemed to stiffen every drop of blood in her body. Shelters of the other highwaymen and women lined down her peripheral view slightly further away, and continued down past her line of sight towards another horizontal line of tents. Amongst the trees, the camp formed a rectangle, and as captive, she barely had a viewpoint of half.

Aggie had spent the idle morning observing the camp and its occupants from her imprisoned location, making more than a few of the highwaymen shift uncomfortably under her indecipherable stare as they performed their day-to-day duties.

The Lady thought she’d identified the Shield- a young man no older than herself, whom wore trousers, a gray tunic, black vest, and matching coat. He was the only one that didn’t have fur, glowing eyes, a tail, or a number of other animal parts.

She then watched how the men and women interacted, while also tallying any and all potential weapons in her mind, when she was interrupted.

“Your Servicer is awake.” Aggie turned her head to stare at Harry, whom was regarding her coolly. The older woman had her long wiry hair bound back, and a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead, as though she had been training.

“Can I please see him?” She tried desperately to keep the demanding tone out of her query.

“You can with Borris watching. I don’t want any mutinous plans happening.” The highwaywomen continued to glare as her nephew appeared at her side.

Aggie’s eyes locked with Borris’ golden ones, and for some reason found herself blushing and quickly averting her gaze, not noticing that he did the same.

After a moment of awkwardness, he cleared his throat and began freeing her of binds, while Harry glanced suspiciously between the both of them.

Once freed, he took the lead on her bound hands, but didn’t pull her along, instead he allowed her to set their pace, while gesturing towards a tent on the opposite side of the camp from his own.

As they walked, more of the occupants of the camp stared at her.

“I must admit, I’m starting to feel like a noble again with all of these suspicious looks I’m receiving.” Aggie jested weakly.

“I have always wondered what being a noble would feel like. To walk into a room and have everyone bow to you.” Borris replied thoughtfully.

“They might bow for three seconds, but no question about it, they will spend the rest of their lives saying horrible things about you, and looking for any way to bring you down to someone else’s feet.”

Borris shot her a sidelong glance before speaking again.

“You don’t have many positive life experiences do you?”

“I grew up educated and well fed with lots of books.”

Borris smiled slightly while looking at the ground.

Stealing a glance at him, Aggie noted the gray hair that touched his temples.

“Might I ask how old you are?”

Why was she asking such an odd question?

Borris’ reaction was to only smile more noticeably while lifting his gaze as they walked towards the Body Magicker’s tent.

“I will be thirty-four this year.”

“I see.”

“How old are you Lady Beatha?”

It was Aggie’s turn to smile and look down.

“I am twenty-three”

They had arrived at the tent, but before she could ahead, Borris held open the flap for her, and then entered after her.

Arlen lay on one of the two cots in the small space, his tunic had been removed, and he had bandages stretched across his chest, around to his back. A bowl that held rags, and some other vials holding herbs beside it were lined up, along with other rolls of gauze.

His eyes were closed, his complexion was still tinged with gray, and a thin layer of sweat covered his body.

“Arlen?” Aggie called feeling significantly more worried than before. She had thought he would be faring far better than was reality- most likely because she had become overly accustomed to the incredible healing powers of the Minkies.

They would’ve had him back to his usual self by the second day…

Aggie moved to the head of the cot before she collapsed to her knees.

“Arlen?” She called her voice coming out as a croak.

He suddenly frowned as though fighting against the urge to sleep upon hearing her voice. When he finally opened his eyes, Aggie saw that they were glazed and stared unfocused at the roof of the tent before turning to her slowly.

“Arlen I-”

“Are you alright?” Her friend cut her off as he barely managed to lift his hand with a wince. Aggie quickly grasped it with both of hers, despite being bound. Borris had completely released the lead of the rope the minute she had entered the tent.

“I am. Don’t pay me another worry-, we’ll be alright. I promise. Just focus on healing.” Aggie whispered gripping his hand in reassurance.

“Don’t worry. I will recover much more quickly now that I can be awake.”

Aggie didn’t understand what he meant, but was too aware of Borris’ attention on them to risk asking him.

“They’re ransoming us to the North King.” Aggie explained hurriedly knowing that he was already straining himself by being awake and speaking.

“I heard.” Arlen’s voice suddenly dropped in volume so drastically that it was barely a whisper.

“Be ready at all times.” After giving her hand the weakest of squeezes, Arlen’s eyes rolled back, and she watched as his body went limp as he succumbed to sleep.

Aggie gently lay his hand back at his side, then reached towards the bowl on the ground that held damp rags in what may have been hot water at one point but was now lukewarm. Ringing out the extra water, she laid it across his forehead, and gently swept some of his unkempt hairs to the side out of his face.

Standing back up, Aggie’s face had cleared of any mirth or light as she seemingly stared into nothing.

When she turned towards the tent exit with her stony expression, Borris kept his expression friendly.

“Ready to go?”

Her eyes shifted to his own, her pale face incredibly calm, yet threatening at the same time.

Wordlessly, she walked out of the tent ahead of him, and waited for him to follow with the lead to her bound hands in his own.

“Tell me about your so-called ‘code’.”

Not liking the icy demand from the Lady, but sensing that there was something about to snap in her, Borris replied.

“We take from those who have excess to give. We only use killing in defense, and as a last resort.”

“Torture?”

“Only in dire cases.”

“Rape?”

“Never.”

“Well you’ve broken your code in at least two ways in our meeting alone, so I’m going to dismiss any trust I have in the third being upheld in your experience.”

Borris’ expression darkened more than a stone in rain, but before he could speak, the Lady Beatha beat him to it.

“I do not have excess to give. I have a single person in my life that I care about, and that person is the only one who cares about me without an ulterior motive. The gold that I have, is all that I have. I will be up for execution once the North King retrieves me, and my friend is in great pain, because you all needed him subdued, in order to make me easy prey.”

Borris felt queasy, and had a hard time looking her in the eye. He didn’t want her to be right.

“My aunt is a keen shot- she doesn’t miss. Your Servicer will make a full recovery.”

“Just because one can physically recover doesn’t mean that pain inflicted isn’t torture.”

“I did say that we torture in dire circumstances.” He snapped folding his arms across his chest.

Aggie immediately calculated the odds of her getting away with stabbing the Beast Awares.

The answer disappointed her.

“What are these ‘dire’ circumstances? None of you are starving to death. No one was in jeopardy of us. Though I can’t say that’s the case anymore.” She looked to the ground for a brief breath, and when her eyes snapped back up there was a shift in her that made Borris instinctively pull back.

“I will ensure your aunt suffers as much as Arlen does for his injury, I promise you that.”

Her voice was unfeeling, and her eyes had darkened in color so dramatically that it disturbed the Beast Awares deeply.

“I will not allow that.” His voice was gruff, and somehow sounded like it belonged to someone else in that moment.

“It’s only fair. Harry hurt someone I care about with no reason, and I will be sure to seek equal retribution. She attacked us first. We defended ourselves, and she attacked again.”

It was the first moment Borris thought to reconsider his lax attitude around his hostage, and he didn’t care for it a bit. He did not want to pit himself against the Lady Beatha, and while he did not hold the moral high ground in defending his aunt, he would if it came down to an altercation. The sole reason for his survival thus far was due his aunt.

Borris had never been bothered about his lifelong criminal activities because of the code they followed, and because it kept him safe from prying eyes. However in that moment, his conscious was not at ease.

They sought to rob nobles, or those whom could afford to be lifted of some coin, but to take something even more valuable from those in a similar position, was simply cruel.

While Agnes Beatha may have had the title of Lady, she had the credentials of an abused slave.

Borris’ chest restricted as he realized that until then, he had done a fine job of toeing the moral line.

With the new development however, the question then became whether or not he could regain his balance on the invisible thread between right and wrong, or would he at long last have to decide which side of it he stood upon.

*

Aggie lay on the ground of the tent, once again staring up at the ceiling. Her day had been successful as far as getting a proper head count and weapons assessment, but sadly they practiced their sparring far from her point of view closer to the Body Magicker’s tent.

Harriet had arranged this on purpose. Clearly the woman was not taking any chances with her captive, which made any escape plan of Aggie’s far more risky.

All scenarios also depended on whether or not Arlen had recovered enough that he could run and then ride a horse.

They didn’t have a lot of time before the South Prince would execute whatever revenge he saw fit upon Lady Maude, and they had already lost two days they had needed for surveying whatever trap was undoubtedly waiting for them.

A response from the North King had apparently arrived that evening, though the contents were not mentioned to Aggie, they were whispered amongst the group while sitting around the fire. The subject of their discussion had sat tied against the tree eating a chunk of bread they had handed her with her bound hands.

Aggie couldn’t help but notice that the longer she was in Harriet’s camp, the more on edge and hostile the highwaywoman seemed towards her. Fortunately, the leader was often busy taking care of the men as small groups would go out and lighten the passengers of Ubert’s boat of their coin, then would return and forage for food and firewood.

They were waiting at the camp until they traded Aggie to the King, then would disappear to another location to evade discovery by knights or magistrate’s- at least that was what Aggie had been able to surmise from the snippets of conversation she was able to hear.

“Lady Beatha?” Borris’ voice broke her thoughts, and brought her back to the present of her once again spending the night in his tent.

“What?”

“Your friend will be fine.”

“I’m aware.”

There was another lapse of awkward silence.

“Will you truly be executed by the North King?”

Aggie’s heart hardened against the worry in his voice.

“Most likely. Abandoning my betrothed would require exile, but I have other crimes.”

“What were they?”

“None of your concern.”

Borris let out a slow breath, then raised his hands up to rub his face. He could tell he wasn’t going to get much sleep.

“We’ve already sent correspondence to the King, we can’t just release you both now. He will hunt down all of us.”

“So you’re scared of the consequences of your mistakes?” Aggie fired back, the venom in her voice incredibly potent.

“Aren’t you on the run from the law yourself?” Borris pointed out defensively.

“I committed a crime to save thousands of people. What’s your excuse?”

“The men you maimed and murdered have families we need to compensate.”

That surprised her.

She hadn’t thought that would be why they’d need the money.

“What about my sleeping-mate here hm? This chest feels quite heavy.” Aggie gave the rope tied around her waist a small tug, and was unable to move the chest she was tied to even by an inch.

“After compensating the families, we will be left with less than half of those contents, and we still need to pay for supplies, and food for the winter.” Borris sighed, the weight of responsibility clearly weighing heavily on him.

“So you commit crimes in order to bear responsibility for the other crimes you’ve committed?” She snorted.

“Fine then. Tell me, Oh-Righteous-One, why did you break your betrothal if you had no coin and nowhere to run to?”

There was a beat of silence where Aggie debated sharing her reasons or not. The Beast Awares was getting an awful lot of information, and yet for some reason, none of it seemed like it would make a difference if he knew.

“The groom-to-be was a bully.”

“Most nobles are.”

“Rarely is it towards their own spouses. His serving staff was actually quite well cared for.”

“That wouldn’t matter to you though would it?” Borris remarked bitterly while rolling his eyes in the dark.

“It did. It’s what stopped me from considering running away until he ordered my imprisonment and ban of reading.” It was the Lady’s turn to be defensive in her reply.

“Tell me, was this imprisonment in your spacious bedchamber?” Borris challenged evenly.

“It was. I was imprisoned with fellow noblewomen whom said I was too much of a dunce to decide what to eat on my own, and ordered about the staff in my stead. Then when I reprimanded them, I was threatened with exile by my beloved.”

The drawl sardonic tone Aggie had answered with irked him further.

“So you had to put up with insipid nobles for a few days and you ran away? What about the servants who have to deal with them day after day and can do nothing?”

“I had no power to change anything. Especially after my betrothed announced I was a bitch in front of nearly every Northern noble family. Though, that lovely evening was following days of him announcing to large groups of people that I was a disgusting child, incapable of being trusted with books, and multiple other forms of being called foolish.”

“You’re right. Putting up with that in a warm keep with unimaginable wealth, food, and servants is far worse than being made to fight in blood sport and being tortured.” Borris growled darkly.

“How about you volunteer for the position of Duchess O’Farrell then? Let them pour their drinks on you and call you dim-witted, keep you in a chamber, and be told to become a shadow that bears the Duke children. I’ll run the group of thieves with my family that love me and respect me.” Aggie’s voice had risen, as had the color in her cheeks.

“You think it’s easy running a group of thieves?” Borris demanded while sitting up, and leaning over to the lantern to turn up the oil so that the flame flickered into brightness again.

“A camp of sixty thieves versus a household of hundreds with nobles and servants combined? Yes.” Aggie was still lying on her back staring up at the Beast Awares when he pulled out his dagger.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Her voice had an edge and her eyes widened uncertainly.

For a moment, Borris’ face softened when he saw the panic in her face, but he composed himself so quickly that Aggie thought she had imagined it.

“Nothing bad.” The anger was still abundant in his voice as he leaned down, and cut the rope tying Aggie to the chest.

Slightly puzzled, Aggie sat up gratefully and twisted her sore middle as Borris then slowly and carefully cut away the bounds on her hands, then her feet.

“Why are you freeing me?” Aggie had never felt more uncertain of someone’s motives in her entire life.

“We’re arguing, and I don’t like you being bound for it. It feels unfair.” He answered as he sheathed his dagger.

“You aren’t worried I’ll attack you?” She demanded incredulously.

“I can handle the likes of you, don’t you worry. I also know you cannot flee because your Servicer is not fit for traveling yet, and you won’t abandon him here.”

“I’ve taken down bigger Beast Awares.” Aggie narrowed her gaze as she rubbed her finally freed bruised wrists.

Borris frowned when he saw the red and purple markings that stood out against her pale flesh.

“Your people tied them. Don’t pretend to be concerned or surprised.” She snapped while pulling her aching wrists to her chest to shield them from his view.

He rested his elbows on his spread knees briefly, before reaching for her arm gently.

“You’re right, I don’t care, but let’s see if you’re bleeding or not.”

Aggie was about to say that didn’t make any sense, when his large warm hand gently pried her arm away from her torso.

“Gods you’re freezing!” He exclaimed as his grasp on her arm briefly tightened.

“It’s nearly winter and I’m sleeping on the ground with a single blanket, and no coat. Of course I’m freezing, you ass.” The flat sarcastic retort made Borris narrow his gaze.

He retaliated by pulling her firmly using the arm in his grasp. This effectively hoisted Aggie onto her knees in front of him, her face inches from his own.

The Captain’s face flashed in front of her.

Blinking rapidly, the trembling began without her consent.

She could feel the spiral into nothingness drawing nearer.

It was happening again…

She was imprisoned and-

Suddenly encased in warmth.

Slowly, the present returned to her sight again, and Aggie found herself staring down at a thick fur blanket wrapped around her, while her arm had been released, and was lying limply in her lap.

Still shaking, she gradually lifted her chin to stare into Borris’ eyes.

The brilliant gold hues that almost seemed to glow met with hers, and she saw the worry and gentleness in him as he watched her without judgment or pity.

Aggie then noticed that the blanket encircled not just herself, but its owner as well. He held the blanket closed around them with his right hand, and was radiating a comforting warmth that permeated her chilled skin. The wave of inhuman heat that rolled off of Borris allowed her to dismiss any thoughts of jeopardy, as she felt as though she were finally beginning to thaw after several days in the cold.

She sat crouched on the ground, with the Beast Awares leaned near her, and her nerves beginning to tingle with a newfound awareness of him.

Neither of them said a word as Aggie continued to climb back to herself from her unwanted memories of the past, and Borris continued to watch her with a hint of sadness around his mouth.

Not knowing how long she had been incapable of responding to her surroundings, Aggie slowly licked her lips, and tried to speak.

“Why…”

She tried to say more, but the words wouldn’t come to her, and suddenly felt weary to her bones.

Little by little, Borris raised his right hand that had been holding the blanket closed around them, and touched her upper arm gingerly. There was a small rush of chilled air allowed in, but both were immune to its effects in that moment.

When she remained still and didn’t flinch from his touch, he let out an uneven breath of his own.

“Gods help me.” He muttered quietly as he slowly leaned down, and brushed a kiss on her forehead.

Aggie didn’t pull away or start to panic, and while there was an explosion of jitters in her belly, it wasn’t necessarily unpleasant. The feel of his lips, if anything, only made her want to lean towards him further. Which was ridiculous because she had been kissed on the forehead many times by her father, and other father figures…

So why did this feel so different?

“You’re a real problem Lady Beatha.” Borris sighed pulling back, and staring at her with such a wide array of complex emotions, Aggie knew she’d never be able to list them all.

“Sorry for not being the ideal hostage.” She replied without thinking, and watched as he grinned with his mouth still closed.

“Yes. You should be sorry. You’re the first hostage we’ve ever had, and you are making me question everything.”

Aggie smiled weakly, not sure what to say in response.

“I think we need to go to sleep. I will give you two options. The blanket you have and my coat on the ground- or the cot with the blanket and me. I swear aside from the inevitable close proximity, I will not touch you.”

Aggie blushed.

She had shared a bed with Arlen before, but that wasn’t the same either.

Her heart was now pounding, but not from fear, even though she found it difficult to look him in the face.

“Will there even be room for me?” She asked trying to make her voice sound light and less awkward than she felt while staring at the slightly larger than average cot.

“I’ll make it work.” There was a note of levity in his voice, and yet the softness of his tone indicated that it wasn’t a lighthearted suggestion to him either.

Reaching down bit by bit, Borris picked up Aggie’s hand, and gently lead her up onto the cot with him. Shifting his body towards the wall of the tent, he lay on his side, which meant he had then left Aggie with the decision to lay with her back against his chest, or nose to nose with him.

She opted for her back to his chest, and slowly lay down on her side facing the same direction.

It was warm, and…

Something in her chest eased.

Some pain, or tension she hadn’t even noticed existed, and that was when she closed her eyes. His muscular arm casually draped over the dip of her waist, and somehow, it only helped Aggie fall into a deep, blissful slumber, undisturbed by night terrors.

At long last, she felt… safe.