#for visual reference he looks like a grey-skinned fjord

[beingatoaster]

A long time ago @memetrash-coyote brought up Bryn dueling someone for Yelkha’s honor, and doing it shirtless to prove she wasn’t up to any tricks. I wrote about 500 words of this piece then, and sat on it for like six months; lately, though, I’ve thrown some more words at it, and now it is more or less Done. :D

One of the guards had enough magic to drop some kind of paralysis spell on her and the innkeeper both. Then they were hauled off to the local jail to cool off, and let it wear off, before the guard captain showed up an hour later. He listened to both their indignant protests  with an unchanging expression of patient irritation, rubbing his thumb absently against the icon of some stern-faced human god or other that was attached to his official tabard.

"What I am getting from this," he said at last, gesturing them both to silence, "is that you, ma'am, committed, and in fact admitted to, assault, and you, Jenkins, incited it, and admit as much as well."

"He called us bloodthirsty savages, and he said 'I've got children' like we would ever hurt a child, and-"

"She punched me in the face!" the innkeeper broke in, pointing furiously to his black eye. Not that he hadn't left a couple bruises on Yelkha himself--he was a big man, and a sturdy one--but she wasn't going to act like his clumsy blows counted as real injuries, whether he milked his own deserved bruise or not. "Which just goes to prove what I said, they're-"

"They're what, Jenkins? Savages, right? Just because they're half-orcs? Remind me, please, whether you recall what my father was?" The guard captain pinched the bridge of his nose. As soon as the innkeeper subsided, ducking his head guiltily and muttering something apologetic, he turned to point at Yelkha. "And would you care to explain, ma'am, why you thought punching a man who'd just called you bloodthirsty was supposed to refute that accusation?"

Yelkha decided not to ask what 'refute' meant; she figured she could guess from context. She couldn't keep from answering anyway, though, clenching her hands around the edge of the cellblock bench to try and tamp down her anger. "Maybe I've got some temper, but he said it about both of us, and Bryn-"

"Ah, yes," the guard captain interrupted again. "The troubadour who was with you. I've spoken to her already. Extensively."

Some of the tight anger went out of Yelkha's jaw and shoulders, and she sat up eagerly. "She's here? I know she backed me up. Wait, she's not in trouble, is she? She didn't do anything, she was still outside with Gurgiu."

"No, she's not in trouble," the guard captain said. "But she had... some thoughts on the matter, legally speaking. It seems that while she's not familiar with our town's laws, she has had an education on the duchy's older legal codes. Which are still in force, and which can still be invoked, though the Duchess prefers we use the modern codes."

"That don't mean she gets to get away with blacking my eye," the innkeeper said, sitting up in alarm. "There's no law that covers that."

"No," the guard captain said, and pinched the bridge of his nose again, looking pained. "But there is an old law about incitement to duel. It's the basis of our law about inciting assault, and it legally justifies the declaration of a challenge. Now, this woman did not issue a formal challenge, so it was still an assault. One mitigated by your incitement, so I had intended to commute the sentence to a week or so of public service, but as she herself just pointed out, you didn't direct the comments only to her."

The innkeeper scowled. "Wait, the one with the fancy coat and all the flowers in her hair? She wants to duel me?"

Yelkha had to grip the edge of the bench. "Bryn is a better fighter than everyone in this town put together."

"So she's dangerous enough to refuse a room to, but not dangerous enough to fear dueling," the guard captain said wryly.

"Well, dueling's got rules," the innkeeper said, and there was a shrewd look on his face. "Person who's challenged gets to choose the weapons, right? And I was in the wars. I know how to use a sword. Big brutes like their kind go for heavier weapons--no offense meant, Captain."

The guard-captain pressed his hand over his holy icon, flat-faced, then nodded. "Very well. The crux of it is, since you've accepted the duel, Jenkins, if you win, your accusations are considered substantiated, the assault will not be considered incited, which means fifty lashes and ejection from town for you, ma'am, and the challenger will formally apologize. If she wins, your accusations are considered unsubstantiated, the assault is considered justified, and you will formally apologize to them."

"Wait, I didn't say I accepted the duel!" the innkeeper protested, while Yelkha was still working her way through the tangle of fancy, unfamiliar Common. "When'd I accept?"

"You chose your weapons, Jenkins," the captain said, his face still impassive. "I believe that constitutes acceptance. The duel will be tomorrow, at dawn, with myself as Tyr's paladin officiating. Both of you will remain in your cells until then, and a room and a guard will be provided here for the challenger so that I may be certain nothing underhanded takes place overnight. The healer will be in later to be sure that you're in fighting shape. Rest well, Jenkins, ma'am."

He nodded to both of them, then turned and strode out, ignoring the innkeeper's blustering protests. Yelkha waited until he was outside the door, and the guard was looking away to call something after him, before she punched the air. Fuck, Bryn was clever.

***

The next morning the guards arrived early with breakfast and ushered the innkeeper out of his cell soon after, waving off Yelkha's questions as they vanished him out the door. Before she could stew too long in her own agitation, though, a couple of them returned--with company. Yelkha leapt to her feet as Bryn came through the doorway.

She was nearly vibrating with eagerness while they unlocked the cell, and rushed out so fast she nearly knocked a guard over in her haste. Bryn only got half of a word out before Yelkha pulled her in for a kiss, holding her tight against her own body and drinking in the scent and taste and feel of her after a lonely and uncomfortable night apart. When she finally pulled back, Bryn's cheeks were flushed, and a couple of red flowers had sprouted in her hair.

"You're the smartest person I know," Yelkha told her, resting her forehead against Bryn's and grinning toothily at her.

Bryn laughed. "That's sweet of you, lovely. I knew a story Ma told me about this part of the country, and it turned out the important parts were true. Are you all right? They didn't give you trouble in here overnight, did they?"

"No trouble at all," Yelkha assured her. "I wanted to punch that weasel-eyed elf-son all night, but I figured I'd just wait and let you do it for me, hey?"

"And you get to watch," Bryn said, smiling back at her. "They tried to tell me that you had to stay here until we saw how it went, but then they told me I get to have a second, and the second has to be there, and there was nothing that said that my second couldn't be you."

"So smart," Yelkha said, swooping in to kiss her cheek.

One of the guards cleared her throat loudly, and Bryn, to Yelkha's disappointment, took a step back. "I think it's time for us to go, lovely. We can continue that after the fight."

The grin she flashed over her shoulder was warm and fierce enough that Yelkha couldn't regret the loss of her warmth too badly. Not when she was going to get to see Bryn take that asshole of an innkeeper out.

***

It seemed like the whole town had gathered for the duel, men and women and children crowding the square. Bryn, performer that she was, didn't seem bothered, either by the hushed whispers among them or the ring of curious, half-hostile stares. The crowd had left an open ring at their center, and she stood at the opposite edge from her opponent while the guard captain laid out terms.

He meant to judge this as neutrally as possible, from what as Yelkha could tell. Well, she had guessed he was something of a fair man. Yelkha stood as patient and quiet as she could, clenching her fists and setting her jaw against the anger still boiling through her blood at the sight of the innkeeper's sneering face. She wanted more than anything to lash out--at the man across the ring, at the guards standing nervously around her, at this peering judgemental crowd--but she couldn't do that, not and upset all of Bryn's efforts for her.

They seemed to have come to an agreement. Bryn was showing her sword to the guard captain, now; he looked it over, nodded approval, and walked across the open ring to inspect the innkeeper's weapon. Bryn waited for him to return to the center, sheathing her sword at his command, and he raised his hand high. The crowd hushed.

Before he could bring his hand down, Bryn spoke. "One more thing," she said, her voice ringing clear in the expectant silence. "To make sure you can't accuse me of having any tricks up my sleeve if I win...."

She shrugged her shoulders, and her long coat slid off, falling in a pile of leather and fur to the ground behind her. One of the guards started forward to pick it up, and Yelkha stepped in front of her, scooping up the coat herself before the human could do it.

"...I'll be fighting without sleeves," Bryn finished, and Yelkha could hear the grin in her voice.

Another murmur ran through the crowd, and the guard captain needed a moment to stop staring, but then he forced the blank expression back onto his face and nodded. "In the interest of fairness, I will ask your opponent-"

"No need. I'm not worried about him," Bryn said. She squared her shoulders, muscles moving under the tattooed skin. Yelkha couldn't help but let her gaze run over the smooth curve of them, admiring the sweep of her shoulder blades, the way they stood out a bit more when she straightened her neck.

"Very well," the guard captain said, and brought his hand down.

Even when she was fighting with sword and shield, rather than magic and claw, Bryn moved with the grace of the elements, with the assurance of someone deeply connected with the earth. She lunged towards her opponent with the smooth swiftness of a hunting predator, like a flame just-lit running down the length of a wick. In comparison, the innkeeper was a slow, ungainly, lumbering thing, both too rough and too timid, lashing out from an over-confident stance and then stumbling back as soon as he faced resistance.

Not that Yelkha hadn't already known that about him. But she took an unpleasant satisfaction at seeing the comparison and knowing that all his peers watching would know it now, too.

There were still a handful of flowers left in Bryn's hair from the kiss she and Yelkha had shared, though Yelkha only realized now that there had been no others--Bryn must have been more anxious than she seemed, spending the night alone. A couple shook free as they exchanged blows, Bryn's sword ringing against his as he went on the defensive and tried to parry her attacks. But there were more sprouting, small golden flowers like yellow flames spreading through the black of her hair and falling around them as she pressed the attack.

The terms of the duel were to first blood, and Yelkha knew, as impressed as she'd been by Bryn's bold move, that it made Bryn more vulnerable than the innkeeper. He must have known it too, because he suddenly switched from the swinging blows he'd been trying before to quick, sharp stabs, less easily parried. Trying to poke a hole in her skin, Yelkha thought, anger surging until she could hear her teeth grind; trying to just draw blood first, without any skill or finesse or honor to the attack. Yelkha didn't put much stock in honor as humans defined it, but she knew that it was part of the whole concept of a duel.

Bryn stepped aside from the jabs instead of trying to deflect them. One step, two steps, three, moving steadily left, giving the impression that she was on the defensive herself, being driven by his assault. Then a forth stab, a fourth step, and she turned and kept turning, swinging as she went, catching his arm with her blade and yanking it down in a strike a bit more savage than Yelkha knew had really been necessary.

Crimson bloomed down the length of the innkeeper's sleeve, soaking the fabric. With a howl, he dropped his sword, doubling over and clutching his arm. "You cut it off!"

"First blood!" the guard captain shouted, stepping into the ring. He planted his foot on the innkeeper's fallen sword and held his hand out for Bryn's; she handed it over immediately, stepping back. "First blood to the challenger!"

The innkeeper was still howling, but a healer with the same holy icon as the guard captain had already rushed into the ring, kneeling beside him to lay on hands. A wave of chatter washed through the crowd, ending the anxious hush; Yelkha could still feel some hostility in the stares, but the tension had broken, not risen. She pushed forward into the ring as it broke up, rushing to Bryn, ignoring the pair of guards still dogging her heels.

"You sure showed him, hey?" Yelkha said, reaching out with a grin to grab Bryn's shoulder.

She'd meant to say more, but looking at the fierce delight on Bryn's face, the growing color haloing her head, she pulled Bryn in for another kiss instead. Heat and hunger flooded through her at the press of Bryn's lips, at the feel of her breasts against Yelkha's own with only the rough linen fabric of Yelkha's shirt between them. Bryn kissed back with all the sharp ferocity she always had after a victory, with a forceful edge that she only took on with her adrenaline pumping. Yelkha leaned into it, letting Bryn reel her closer, her other hand coming around to the small of Bryn's back as her long coat slid forgotten to pile at their feet.

The guard captain coughed, awkwardly, for what Yelkha thought might have been the third time, and she made herself pull back just a little. "That settled it, right?" she asked him. "He was an asshole, and we didn't have to take it from him."

"Legally, yes," the guard captain said. He had turned his face away from them, but she could see enough of his face to tell his cheeks had gone pink. "You are considered justified. Morally.... My apologies to you both, but I wouldn't advise you to stay in town through the evening. If for no other reason, Jenkins does own the only inn, and it's still within his rights as a businessman to refuse you a room."

"We wouldn't stay here if you paid us," Bryn said. "All our things are still packed, and we're leaving. Right, lovely?"

It sat poorly with Yelkha to give in so easily, whatever the guard captain said. They'd won the duel, hadn't they? But if Bryn wanted to leave, Yelkha would go along with it. And they'd been planning to trade Bryn's playing for an inn room anyway; these people would be a shitty audience, and they didn't deserve the privilege.

"There's plenty of better places to spend the night," she agreed.

"That's for the best," the guard captain said, sounding relieved. He still wasn't looking at them. "Though, ma'am, if you would please dress yourself before you depart, I would be very grateful. I believe we do have some laws on the books about public decency."

"Public what?" Yelkha asked, confused.

"Wearing clothes," he said, his voice growing more strained. "Women are expected to cover themselves up, for the sake of the town's morals."

Yelkha groaned in disgust, but she bent down to pick up Bryn's jacket, shaking it out carefully before she handed it back to her. "Lowlanders! You all wear too much for your weather, and it's boiled your brains out."

Bryn laughed as she took the jacket. "I should probably put a shirt on, if we're going to be riding the rest of the day."

"Or you could just put that back on until we get out of town," Yelkha said, the heat still pounding in her blood flaring at the sight of it draped over her bare shoulders like a cloak, her whole front still showing, breasts faintly shiny with sweat. "And once we're far enough not to be bothered, you take it back off again, hey?"

"It does make a good blanket," Bryn answered, eyes glinting, and pulled it the rest of the way on. "Let's go, lovely."

Yelkha had to fight the urge to kiss her again right then and there. They had to find Gurgiu first, or else she'd get too distracted, when she really didn't want to linger here. But she didn't think Gurgiu would mind following the road on his own, once they got out of town. Even if Bryn kept her jacket on until they found a sheltered spot, Yelkha had every intention of getting her hands under it as soon as she could.