Readers: thank you all for being so patient with me and this story. We are a few chapters away from the end, and I hope I can reward you all for sticking with it. I promise there is going to be a lot of sex in the final chapters, and I'll try not to write too many long opuses on the joy that is having a guy go down on you. Either way, I am very flattered that you guys would choose to read my weird smut. As always I apologise for any typos, I really tried to edit it properly but... you guys know I can NEVER get a friend to look at this stuff right?
Also: I'm not afraid of comments anymore. In fact, I love them now. So leave one!
Chapter Thirteen
"How many?"
Leda asked the question as soon as Brandon had dismounted. He looked tired, and worried.
"As few as eight, as many as twelve. Ned was able to track them up to the eastern clearing."
"The eastern clearing?"
Brandon took her by the arm, and pulled her into his body, kissing her deeply. As she felt his hands pressing against the back of her neck, his lips parting hers confidently, Leda wondered at how quickly he had begun to take for granted that she would share her body with him. But then, as he slipped his tongue inside her, she knew she would never not want him to possess her. She needed this. She needed him.
He broke off the kiss, touching her hair softly as she looked up at him.
"I think they'll travel at night, likely be here before dawn."
Leda nodded silently and took his hand from her hair.
"Rob, the Highlander, is inside," she said, holding his hand in hers carefully. "He's preparing some food for all of us."
She could feel his hand tense, then soften.
"Good," Brandon said, rather loudly. "You must be hungry."
They went to the cottage together, Brandon gripping her hand as they walked into the room where Leda had lived privately for years.
Rob towered over her stove, comfortably using her knife and pot, oblivious to her bed, which lay a few footsteps away.
The bed was rumpled. Had he been sleeping in it? Laying in her blankets? Wrapped in her scent?
Leda cleared her throat.
"Brandon's here," she said.
Seeing them eye each other sent a prickle of fear up her spine. Brandon stiffened, his muscles preparing to strike before his mind. And Rob just stood there, his massive body speaking for itself.
Leda forced herself to smile.
"Let's not kill each other before supper," she said, freeing her hand from Brandon's grip, and retreating to a cupboard.
She took out a few soldier's tins, then a bottle of brown liquid. The smell made her eyes water, but she poured a little for all of them anyway, laying it out on the table, hoping to force the men together.
It worked. Rob and Brandon retreated from their corners, coming together around the table with Leda.
"Is that what I think it is?" Rob asked, sniffing the offering.
"If you think its spirits, yes," Leda handed them each a cup. "I don't know what it's made of, but it works. And as it might be our last night in the world, I think that's reason enough to drink up."
She forced a smile as she lifted her glass to both the men. They watched her anxiously as she took a confident gulp.
It was terrible. Leda winced as it burned her throat, her eyes cried out; But she was determined, so she swallowed. Rob and Brandon followed suit quickly.
"Where did you get this?" Brandon asked.
"From one of your Rangers."
Brandon's eyes met hers with the familiar sharpness, and Leda almost smiled, remembering how she used to fear these glares.
"You're not supposed to trade with my men one on one," he said gruffly.
"I know, that's why he and I agreed not to tell you," Leda said, taking another small sip. "Drink up, there is more where that came from."
Rob did as he was told, but Brandon met her gaze angrily, as though he had half a mind to punish her for saying this. But seeing the blackness of his eyes, Leda knew that any reprimand would come when they were alone together.
Rob cleared his throat and put supper on the table.
It was good food. Whole, fluffy white potatoes drizzled in old chicken fat, with a bit of green roughage on the side. When Leda complimented him on it, Rob only regretted that he hadn't been able to plan for meat.
"If we make it though this raid," Leda said, cleaning her plate. "I'll slaughter a chicken to celebrate."
"I wouldn't plan any celebrations yet," Brandon turned to Rob with a clenched jaw. "Besides cook, what can you do, Highlander?"
Rob met him with a forced smile.
"You have a bad memory," he said.
"Stop," Leda interrupted. "Rob is going to stay and fight, that's valuable to us, and we don't need to talk about it."
"But I need to know how valuable, exactly." Brandon looked at Rob with menacing eyes. "We're outnumbered, so a strategy is more important than brute force."
"I know how to fight outnumbered," Rob spoke in a low voice. "How many Outlanders did I kill on my way out of your mines?"
Leda dropped her fork loudly onto her plate before Brandon could answer. She collected the plates and brought them to her wash basin.
"Let's say there are ten men, how do we keep them out of the cottage?" She poured more liquor for the men, skipping her own glass.
"Ten of them, two of us," Rob said gruffly. "We may as well hide again."
"My cottage has to survive - -"
"There are three of us," Brandon interrupted. "Ned said he'd fight."
Leda scoffed. "Ned thinks I'm a disease."
"Don't be petty, he's offered to help," Brandon looked at her with a wane smile. "He's too old for a new Head Ranger."
Leda, feeling slightly ashamed, knew this wasn't the only reason. Ned might hate her, but he loved Brandon. She's have to be kinder to the old man in the future. Or forgive him at least, for being a perfectly normal man in the Outlands.
"Ned's a good rider, he'd be best used cutting down Rangers before they get here," Leda said.
Rob refilled his glass. "Cut them all down I say. If they're Outland Rangers they'll be useless as soon as they're off they're horses.
Brandon looked at Leda then with a pained expression. He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it before a word escaped.
"What?"
Brandon took a long sip of spirits.
"It's not just rangers," he said slowly. "Just one of them's a ranger, Alec's friend. He's torn up about what happened to him, but he couldn't convince any of his fellow Rangers to come with him."
"They're more loyal than you thought."
"They like to eat as much as I do."