Disclaimer: Don't own, not mine.

Truces

Prowling the confines of the palace brought no clarity to Nel's conflicted mind. Her homeland had already seemed bizarrely unsubstantial following her off-world travels. Albel's visit switched that incongruity sideways. Instead of being strange because of her most recent experiences, it was strange because he was nowhere to be found. He was not in the temple making acerbic comments about the theocracy that ruled Aquaria; he was not pacing the corridors glaring at her subordinates in a threatening fashion. Odd that she had spent almost all of her twenty-four years within the palace walls, and the lack she felt most strongly came from the few days he had shared them. Scowling as fiercely as ever Albel had, Nel sought refuge on the balcony outside the throne room, sure that the fresh air of the gardens would restore her undisciplined mind to its usual regime of military correctness. No such luck; instead she recalled the sharp conversation she held with Woltar in this very spot over Albel's relationship with Woltar's late daughter. Personally, Nel thought the unfortunate young woman chose death in childbirth as the preferable fate to being locked to Nox for any length of time. Grimacing in irritation – she hadn't thought of him even once in weeks, and suddenly she couldn't escape the man now? – Nel folded her hands across the stone balustrade and leaned her weight heavily on her forearms, looking over the gardens without really seeing them.

"Quite the mess, huh?"

Although considerably startled when someone spoke from just behind her, Nel didn't indicate her surprise. Surprise was the sort of thing that could get you killed in battle. Instead, "'Mess'?" she enquired without much interest.

She heard a heavy footfall before Cliff edged into her field of vision. He leaned a hip against the smooth stone edge as he crossed his arms over his chest, body turned towards her rather than the garden. "Crosell was careless landing and knocked a few things over. You didn't notice?"

Nel narrowed her eyes, focusing on the scene in front of her instead of the mental pictures that had plagued her since Albel's visit, and drew in her breath sharply. Several statues were shattered. Distinct claw marks marred the perfection of the hedges. Her hands clenched around the balcony's railing, wishing they encircled Albel's scrawny neck instead. "That inconsiderate idiot," she fumed.

"Dragons are like that."

"So are Dragon Knights."

Cliff's brows when up. "It would be big news if Crosell let Nox ride him. Crosell doesn't let just anyone on his back. You think they've done that bonding thing that knights and dragons do?"

"I'm sure Crosell gave in just to shut him up," retorted Nel, then wondered at the slow smirk that crossed Cliff's face.

Cocking his head to the side, "So Albel was here?" Cliff enquired blandly. "Funny. None of us saw him."

Too late Nel saw the neat trap he laid for her. There was no way she could pretend ignorance. She settled for lifting a shoulder with feigned indifference. "What of it? Going to crow about your good fortune in not having to endure him for five minutes?"

"Heh. Five minutes?" The smirk widened. "No wonder you're so cranky. I'll have to have a talk with that boy." Nel flexed one fist and set it against her hip, glaring at him. Cliff shrugged and dropped the subject, but the smirk remained. "Fayt's ready to head back again, he says. Maria talked him into waiting for a bit, but any time this week will still be too soon. Albel beat on him pretty badly. He isn't going to be healed enough, and it's a hard journey on top of it. Not all of us have dragons to ride."

Nel thought about mentioning the off-world teleportation devices that somehow took people apart and put them back together again in far distant places, but refrained. It was a frightening thing if thought about too much, and she worked hard not to over-analyze the bizarre technology she had been exposed to the last few months. To her, the supernatural that Cliff so scorned was more tangible and less frightening than the labor saving devices he took for granted.

"Too bad we didn't know Albel was here." That was definitely a drawl embedded in Cliff's deep voice, one that well matched the smirk. "Could've saved us the trip."

"With the shape Fayt's in, another fight with Albel right now will kill him."

Cliff's mysterious amusement faded. "True," he said, his tone sobering. "We've all gotten stronger, but none of us are in Albel's class. Even another sword master like Fayt can't touch him yet."

Nel knew that Fayt was sure that he wouldn't be ready to face the Creator until he was powerful enough to defeat Albel. It would be an admirable goal, thought Nel, if they only had time. Nel understood that the young man needed the confidence boost defeating the most skillful swordsman known would give him; at the same time, they had been able to destroy the minions of the Creator. She was not as convinced, at least not yet, that the Creator was so much more powerful than his own creations. What she did know was that time was too short. The Creator's capabilities in a one-on-one battle were a mystery, but he had demonstrated his ability to destroy from a distance. Albel needed to be either recruited or defeated in short order, or many more lives could be lost.

If Fayt and his mysterious powers were eradicated, the toll would be even greater. Nel had only recently been introduced to the mind-boggling reality of "galaxies" and the immense number of lives supported within one. The Creator threatened not just Elicoor itself but the entire "galaxy" with extermination. With so much at risk, Fayt's original fight with Albel had taken place over the objections of most of the party. Only Cliff supported the younger man's suicidal determination. For whatever reason, Albel had stopped just short of killing Fayt, sending him away with a scornful admonition to return only when he was capable of putting up a real fight. While one week or ten wouldn't be enough time for Fayt to train to Albel's level, it might be enough time for the Creator to destroy everything in the "galaxy".

So, Nel thought as she glared at the dragon-sized indentations in the Holy Mother's garden, not only do I have to do something about Albel, I have to do it fast enough to keep Fayt alive.

Really, though, Nel asked herself crossly several days later, why did she need to anything about Albel?

For all that he had occupied no part of her thinking mind during her journey off-planet, with her return and the strong reminder of his existence, he was suddenly quite hard to ignore. This was especially contradictory since, in spite of his unexpected appearance in her room and his acerbic comments to her there, he had apparently put her completely out of his mind. There had been no contact from him. None whatsoever.

Not that she cared. For one thing, there was little need to worry about Albel killing Fayt. Adray's training was going to do it first. Hearing another yelp from the gardens below the balcony, followed by the distinctive sound of a body solidly plowing a trough in the ground, Nel scrubbed her hand across her face. Adray had taken the dragon's misuse of the garden as a divine signal, one that meant it was the appropriate place to further Fayt's grappling skills. The damage a careless dragon could do with a sloppy landing was nothing compared to a fanatical martial artist determined to toughen up someone. Nel tried not to flinch at the echoing sound of more fleshy blows. Fayt's injured ribs meant he couldn't swing a sword freely, so he had eagerly acquiesced when Adray suggested hand-to-hand combat as a good training substitute. That had been two days ago. Fayt must be a great deal tougher than he appeared, decided Nel, because she was convinced that most healthy individuals would have collapsed after just a few rounds of Adray's enthusiastic "conditioning."

Next to her, "You know he's setting out tomorrow," Cliff said, his voice expressionless. "He says he can't wait any longer."

"He'll be killed."

"Yes," agreed Cliff baldly. Nel slid a sideways glance up at him. Something in his face seemed to ask, What are you going to do? Probably it was her own paranoia speaking. Paranoia was an occupational hazard in her line of work. There was no way Cliff could know what she planned.

"Do you expect me to do something about it?" she demanded, just checking.

"Can you?" countered Cliff.

Nel responded with a lifted shoulder, not answering directly. There were reasons she made a good spy in spite of drawing the line at violating any tenants of Apris. Fortunately her god was a pragmatic one, as demonstrated by his willingness to take on three brides. Her ability to compromise ethical rules if justified by a favorable outcome did not contradict any of the teachings. Her god did forbid lying, but her burgeoning plan wouldn't require that of her. Most of the time, reflected Nel with a cold, private smile, withholding the full truth was all that needed to be done.

"Scar-ee," Cliff muttered. Nel glanced at him again, but he just grinned down at her, his face considerably less grim than it had been. "Claire says you won't be making the journey this time."

That was not preciselythe truth... "My duty requires me to be elsewhere when you're scheduled to leave."

"Uh-huh." They both winced at the sound of another solid "thwack" from the grounds. Cliff lifted a hand behind his head, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, it's not like it will take all of us to pull Albel off of him. Just me, Maria and Mirage should be enough. I hope."

Nel's cold smile intensified. "You never know. Apris may yet provide." She nodded at him, turning away and walking back into the palace.

"Apris, eh?" Cliff grinned. "Somehow I don't think it's 'Apris' that Albel should be worried about."

Nel gave herself six hours lead time, figuring that although a single person would make better time than a group, fighting the monsters once she reached the Barr Mountains might be more time-consuming than with a group. In truth, she found the monsters easier to skirt when she was unaccompanied by the others, especially Fayt. He had many skills, but wilderness survival quite obviously was not part of whatever training was standard where he came from. Monsters would have to be deaf, blind and olfactory-challenged not to know he was in the area. Leaves found at the base of the mountains helped disguise her scent. The brown patches smearing her arms and legs fit no beauty ideal she knew, but that was hardly important. Her timing was the only thing that mattered. Fortunately her increased skill meant that the once-dangerous dragons of the region presented little threat to her now, and fighting the few she couldn't avoid as she made her way towards Crosell's lair consumed just enough time. When Nel finally paused at the mouth of the Lava Caves to run over the outline of her rough-and-ready plan, she estimated she was still an hour ahead of the others, assuming they left on time.

It would be enough.

Fights couldn't be avoided once Nel reached the lava-punctuated inner chambers. The monsters there blended in with the red-hued surroundings, darting in and out of fire-rimmed pools that would kill her if she so much as stood too close. Even given her elevated skill level, ambushes were always difficult to defend against and the fights were the hardest she had faced on her solitary journey. Despite working alone and undercover for years, she had become used to the advantages of working within a group. She vowed not to take her companions for granted as she reached the inner chamber that housed Crosell.

Within the dragon's lair the heat dropped, going from "insufferable" to "barely tolerable." The dancing lights of the outer caves leveled off to a steady red-tinged glow. Nel cast her gaze towards the deepest recesses of the cavern. On a ledge barely raised from the uneven floor the great dragon dozed (or slept, or hibernated; she wasn't sure how to tell the difference). Slightly in front of the dragon, back-lit by fires that she couldn't see from her vantage point, slouched a slim figure. One wrist was draped loosely over the jutting hilt of the katana; the other arm casually dangled. Albel glanced over his shoulder, supremely uninterested in who had invaded his privacy before the fire of the caves seemed to catch in his eyes. Pivoting sharply, he took several quick steps towards her.

Crossing her arms over her waist, "Still hiding yourself here, I see," Nel remarked coldly.

He stopped in his tracks, scrutinizing her intently. After a moment he gave a soft, disgusted 'hmph.' "You are still hiding, period, woman."

Nel put up her brows at that odd comment. She wasn't the one who used her hair as a shield. "Hiding from what, Albel? I'm right here in plain view."

There was a smoky snort from Crosell. Opening one slit-pupil eye, the ancient dragon rumbled, "She has you there, small one."

Without so much as a glance at the powerful being behind him, "If I want your opinion, you old windbag, I'll ask for it," snapped Albel.

"And if I need a quick snack," commented the dragon, closing its giant eye again, "I won't ask at all. It's so kind of you to stay in snapping distance, small one."

Albel snorted, shifting his weight over one leg and dropping his gaze to the ground, his customary strike-from-any-angle posture. Nel looked at his slender form, framed by the massive body of the dragon at the back of the cave. "You two are awfully chummy."

Albel shrugged. So did Crosell. A dragon shrugging was an interesting sight to see. "You're interrupting my training, woman. What do you want?"

"I have a question for you."

"Only one? How disappointing."

"Why me?"

"Why you what?"

"Why did you go after me? What do you need me for?"

"'Need'?" To her indignation Albel laughed, sharp and harsh. "'Need'," he repeated scornfully. "Want, sure. Love, even. But need? I don't 'need' anyone, woman."

Nel's own temper sparked at that. "Don't mock me. You aren't in love with me."

Albel gave her that sideways stare from under his bangs, the one where he tilted his head to the side as his expression conveyed that he couldn't believe how stupid some people were. Casually thumbing his katana hilt away from its sheath, he swung the blade up carelessly and tapped the dull end against his armored shoulder, something he often did when he was irritated. It would have alarmed most people, with reason. Instead of fear, Nel felt the hot rush of anticipation race through her veins. Her mad plan was working. "You should have told me using runology adversely affects hearing, Commander. I would have shouted it louder."

"If there's anything any good spy knows, it's that you can't trust what a man says during sex."

The leather and metal encasing his hand squeaked as fingers tightened on the blade's hilt. "A man, perhaps," he said coldly between tight lips. "What ever gave you the impression that I would lie under any circumstance?"

If she had been less focused on her ultimate goal, Nel would have been thrown off her stride. She heard, filed the information away for future examination, and concentrated on what else was present in his curt words. Jealousy? Perhaps. A useless emotion, but one she might be able to exploit. She pressed on. Slowly drawing the twin daggers from their sheaths, she sank into a battle crouch. "Fight me."

Although Albel's face maintained its usual impassive appearance, she thought she could discern a faint incredulous cast to his stoic expression as he lifted his head. "Fight you? You can not be serious."

"Quite serious. You're an obstacle to Fayt."

"And that matters to you – why, exactly?"

One corner of her mouth ticked up. "He's the only one who can prevent the destruction of the galaxy."

Albel snorted. Likely he didn't know what a "galaxy" was any more than she had a few weeks ago, but he would naturally assume anything that required Fayt to protect it probably deserved destruction. He might, just might, change his mind once he understood that he was in the galaxy Fayt was trying to save, but she would have to force him into wider experiences for that to happen. Airyglyph males were conservative; 'force' was the operative word. "And," Nel added, studying his expression carefully, "I spent a lot of time with him while I was off-planet. I won't let you hurt him again, Nox."

He cast his gaze to the ground, his hand tightening and relaxing again against the leather-covered grip of the katana. Jealousy, all right. Over that boy. Foolish. The blade drifted down and slightly away from his body as Albel settled more firmly into the deceptively lazy preparatory battle stance, stare piercing her through the two-toned bangs. "Have you lost your mind?" The katana suddenly slashed in front of him. Nel swore she heard the molecules around Albel moan in protest. The dirt around her feet kicked up as a perfectly scored arc formed in the rock just beyond her toes, a reminder of what he could do with his attacks. "You know you're not in my class."

"You might be surprised at what I've learned."

"I won't hold back. I never do in a fight."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." With that, Nel lunged.

For a second she feared she'd over-estimated him, but her gutting twin strikes aimed towards his bare mid-riff were blocked by a down stroke of the katana. Of course. The mid-section is an area he can easily defend, that's why he leaves it uncovered. Spend all your time trying to open his stomach and he'll take off your head. There was another hint of air molecules screaming in abuse. Nel tucked a shoulder and rolled past him, feeling the edge of compressed air just over her head, sure she'd lost a few strands of hair as she heard the dull explosion of the attack's impact against one of the cave's walls. On one knee, she swept a dagger behind her without looking, and heard an annoyed grunt from Albel as he was forced to side-step rather than press his advantage. Any triumph she felt was snuffed immediately; a swipe of his armored arm slapped the palm of his gauntlet against the side of her face and neck. Nel's head snapped to the side as the metal-encased fingers tightened. Inexorable pressure forced her to her feet. Albel mashed her cheek into his shoulder guard, the sharpened fingertips of the gauntlet digging into her flesh. There was a pinprick of pressure just over her jugular; Nel knew he'd deliberately broken the skin in several places.

"Yield," suggested Albel, sounding bored.

Too soon. Perhaps she couldn't defeat him alone, but being beaten in two moves wouldn't accomplish anything either. She had to prolong the fight. Nel tilted her chin up, nearly bumping noses with him, and pressed her mouth over his.

It was a peck, nothing more.

With a different sort of man, it might have turned the fight into another direction. Passion and violence were sometimes closely linked, after all, and the first time he kissed her was after a fight.

She wasn't expecting that from Albel this time. As he said, he wasn't like other men. She was counting on that difference.

For a moment, time stilled. Albel's eyes glared directly into hers. She knew they were a rich, deep brown rather than the blood red her people whispered they were, but at that moment, as anger lit in them and the dancing crimson hue of the fire caves reflected off his pupils, she could see the origin of the myth. Nel shrugged out of his grip, turning in a deep knee bend to brace for his next attack. He didn't use his sword. Instead the palm of his armored arm struck her shoulder, driving through her defensive stance with a force powerful enough to send her flying. She struck the distant rock wall hard, air rattling painfully from her lungs. The whine of the katana strike was felt rather than heard. Instinctively she jerked to the side just enough. Rock chips pelted into the side of her face as the blade embedded itself a foot into the solid wall, scarce centimeters from her cheek. She ducked under his outstretched arm, pivoting as he jerked the blade free and spun to face her.

There was a pause as the dust from the shattered rock wall settled. Albel's harsh breathing was loud in the stillness. For an instant an angry grimace twisted his face before it smoothed into the customary battle mask, one sans the usual smirk. He was furious with her for bringing that into the fight. It didn't belong. It was out of context. It wasn't honorable.

She was a spy. She didn't have to be honorable. She just had to make him lose control. And that was something she already knew she could do.

For nearly half an hour, Nel managed to keep him busy.

He landed more strikes, but none were clean. She worked on nicking him where she could, careful not to mark him in obvious places, settling for bruising blows against the armor when he caught on and started to guard against her tactics. Again, that played into her hands. Deep bruises under the armor were fine. He just couldn't look like he'd been in a fight. Her runology skills she saved for healing herself; deep frying him or pelting him with icicles would leave marks that wouldn't fade fast enough. Deception was the key here. The off-world battles she participated in made Nel much stronger than the only other time they directly crossed blades. To her annoyed surprise, though, Albel had experienced a like growth in abilities. She knew, intellectually, that he must have improved to defeat the powerful Fayt with such ease, but the reality was that his skill still far outmatched hers and his special sword attacks were potentially lethal.

Early in the fight she positioned herself with Crosell at her back, reasoning that Albel wouldn't do anything to bring the dragon into the contest and hoping that Crosell wasn't serious about seeing either of the humans as snacks. Angry as he was, Albel retained enough wit to avoid using large area attacks. Precision attacks in a confined space Nel could largely dodge. Soon he stopped using his special attacks altogether, like her relying upon classic fighting skills rather than extraordinary abilities. The exhilaration of pure technique took them both as the contest became a dance of parry and counter.

Pressing Nel closely, Albel forced her back. She dipped low, pivoting in a lunge as a leg swept out, meaning to trip him up and gain herself some fighting room, but her foot brushed against something unyielding, throwing her balance off. There was an annoyed grumble, a crack that didn't sound like any Albel-instigated attack she knew of, then quite suddenly she was air-borne, spinning out of control until the far wall stopped her rotation and she fell limply to the ground.

Crosell, she realized. Dammit.

At the same instant as her own insight, Albel shouted, "Stay out of this, worm!"

"As amusing as your violent little courtship rituals are," said the dragon without so much as cracking an eye open, "I'm trying to sleep. If you want to mate so badly, boy, take your small female somewhere else and leave me in peace."

"Hmph," was all Albel had to say in response. There was the faint jingle of metal near her before his shadow covered her prone form. Albel dragged her off the ground by hooking one hand into her sleeveless tunic, pulling her to him exactly the same way he had the first time he kissed her. Except this time he bit down on her lower lip until she gasped in pain, then he took advantage of her open mouth by thrusting his tongue in even though he knew she didn't like kissing that way. Nel considered biting down but knew that would only make him angrier, so she instead opted for holding still and letting him have his way. Since he was expecting a struggle, that just annoyed him, but annoyance was better than anger. He pulled his head back and released his hold on her armor. Not expecting him to let go, Nel staggered and fell to one knee. He towered over her, one hand braced against his hip while the armored arm dangled, glowering as she began to laugh.

"What is so funny about losing, woman?"

"There's losing and there's losing. I've accomplished what I've set out to do."

He glared at her. "What, make me nearly kill you? And you thought I had an odd sense of foreplay."

"What the little female means," rumbled Crosell's voice from behind them, "is that we are not alone."

"What?" growled Albel, whirling around to transfer his glare to the great dragon.

"Oh, they aren't here quite yet, boy. But the one who challenged you and lost a few days back? He and his companions have entered the caves. I can smell them." He flicked his tail, once, before looping it across his face. "I suppose this means I won't get to sleep any time soon..."

Albel turned back to Nel, the expression on his face lethal. "You-!"

It hurt her ribs to laugh. Wrapping an arm around them for support, she laughed anyway. "Fayt nearly got you last time, didn't he? He will this time."

"Do you think this little charade will impede me? It took three of you at the same time to defeat me before, fool."

He hadn't called her that in months. Nel's amusement snuffed out. Rising, she braced her feet far apart, as much to maintain a balance that was precarious as a preparatory battle stance. "Why are you training here?"

He snorted. "To be the strongest, of course!"

"The strongest what?"

Albel's angry expression melted into confusion. Nel was proud that she could tell the difference; most people would not be able to read his face at all. "What are you babbling about? I didn't hit you on the head. Did I?"

He had, actually, more than once, but only glancing blows thanks to her agility. Anyway, that was not the issue. "There's no point to being the strongest here. Things are out there more powerful than anything you can possibly imagine. I've seen them, and I still can't believe they exist. You prove nothing by remaining here. Nothing. You want to be the strongest, you have to go with Fayt." Albel turned his head away, but she had become adept at reading the quicksilver changes in his cold-set face. "You want to go, don't you?"

"That boy will not defeat me!"

Shaking her head in disbelief, Nel finally understood why it was that Albel let Fayt go after their last fight. No matter how much he wanted to, Albel wouldn't ask to be included. That peculiar Airyglyph pride Albel wore like armor meant the swordsman would insist on being forced. A dead Fayt meant Albel would continued to be trapped here; a living one offered a chance at greater experiences. "Fayt will defeat you this time. You have to be at the top of your game for him, and you aren't."

"Brilliant," he said viciously, and, oddly, Nel could tell the compliment was sincere despite the vitriol that coated it. "I can't imagine he will thank you for this, though. Why did you cook up this little strategy?"

"Because," Nel said, speaking a truth she was not aware of until that moment, "I'm tired of being in the stars alone."

His eyes widened before he tilted his head forward to shield them. Nel grinned victoriously. She did not need to see what was in his eyes; the fact he felt the need to hide them told her all she needed to know. "I will not lose on purpose," he told her harshly.

Nel snorted, which considering the state of her ribs wasn't too smart, and repeated what she said at the beginning of the fight. "I wouldn't have it any other way." Turning her back on him, she limped to the darkest part of the cavern, leaning against the wall and tilting her head down, blending in with the shadows until she all but disappeared from view. After a long pause, Albel sheathed his sword and took up a post next to Crosell, his stance casual, nothing indicating that he had just fought a hard-contested battle.

They exchanged no further words, but only waited.

There were no greetings when Fayt and the others arrived in Crosell's lair. The party halted as one at the entrance of the cavern. After a pause, the young man strode to the platform where Crosell lay napping, his face cold and set with purpose. Albel stood in front of the platform, his back pointedly turned, one hand resting casually on the hilt of the katana while the armored arm hung loosely. Fayt stopped, drawing his sword without a word. The scrape of the metal against the scabbard was surprisingly loud in the echoing cavern.

For another long moment, Albel continued to ignore the other man. Finally he looked over his shoulder, fixing Fayt with a scornful glare. "Ready for another try, fool?"

~end~