After their decisive victory over Orinovo, Lys-Akkaria's army crosses the border to take back territory that used to be theirs. With the combined forces of a lightweaver and shadowforger, Orinovo doesn't stand a chance.
In spite of their newfound a...
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Fennrin had spoken to the crowd, and shockingly enough they seemed to have actually listened to him because they did disperse afterward. But it was probably mostly Daryan's speech he'd given before that convinced them.
It had been very difficult to say anything, though. Not with Ain watching the entire time. Fennrin sighed. He hadn't been very fair to him, but he couldn't help but feel frustrated with him. He'd not expected his emotions to get the better of him the way they had, but it was done and over with now.
And Fennrin couldn't say he regretted it that much. It had felt good to tell Ain exactly what he was feeling for once. He did feel guilty for it, but he wouldn't take any of it back.
Now that everyone was leaving, so was Ainreth, it seemed. Fennrin had sort of expected him to try to talk to him again, but watching him head down the road leading to their house, Fennrin supposed that this would not be the case.
Ainreth's house. Not theirs, Fennrin corrected himself. It had never been their house, if he was to be honest with himself.
His insides twisted. He hoped that wasn't a large part of why Ain liked him. Fennrin had come here not knowing anyone and having no resources of his own, which Ain had helped with. But they'd started butting heads only after Fennrin had gained some agency of his own.
No, he refused to continue that thought. It was wrong.
"You did wonderfully," Daryan told him, squeezing his shoulder. Somehow that always seemed to calm Fennrin down. "I told you the people would listen to you."
Fennrin grimaced as he tried to recall what he'd actually said. It was barely in his mind somehow since he'd spoken on the spot, having forgotten what he'd planned on saying the moment he was standing in front of all these people.
But they had seemed to like it, comforted by his words. As long as he could help somehow. He needed to be useful since Daryan bothered bringing him here with him and the Bulwark.
"I hope we manage to deal with this," Fennrin said, sighing. He was very tired after traveling here, but he tried not to show it.
"Of course we will," Daryan said, keeping his hand on Fennrin's shoulder as he began leading him into the palace. "I saw you talking to Ainreth."
Fennrin grimaced, but nodded. But before he could try to defend himself, Daryan spoke again, a kind smile on his face.
"It is none of my business, I know. I simply wanted to make sure you are okay."
"Oh." Fennrin blinked. Daryan always seemed to surprise him. "Yes, I'm fine." At least he could pretend he was. He couldn't stop thinking about everything they'd said to each other. All the hurt he'd thrown at Ainreth, and all the hurt he felt.
"Oh, but he did say the reason he is helping the protesters was to get me back here," Fennrin said, sighing. "Maybe he will stop now?"
Daryan shook his head, annoyance in his eyes as he kept walking. "Of course he would do it for that."
