Cloak and Scalpel

ABERLEEN ARC: Paxley Pride

I practically froze along with Lesley.

What was Aamon doing here?  On the way to our apartments, I had asked him not to show himself in front of Lesley yet, while she sorted out her feelings.  And yet here he stood, face impassive and as silent as an impalpable shadow.

Gusion stiffened.  I think a part of him wanted to shield Lesley, and the other part just wanted to ask Aamon what the heck he was doing there.  As it stood, Gusion kept silent, wary eyes fixed on his brother.

Lesley was as still as a statue, though I noted that her breathing had quickened.  After what happened last night, it wouldn't be hard to imagine that she would be afraid of Aamon.

I got off the bed and made a move toward Aamon, but he strode into the room before I could stop him.  Lesley gripped Gusion's hand tightly.

"Aamon," I said.  "You shouldn't—"

"Let me speak," he said gently, eyes holding my mine.  Telling me to trust him.

I glanced behind me at Lesley, who was looking down at the bed, purposefully avoiding Aamon's eyes.  She suddenly looked up at me.  "It's all right," she said softly.

"Lesley," Gusion began.

"It's okay," Lesley insisted.  I watched as she straightened her back as though to steel herself for the conversation.  She held her chin up, and in that moment, she was no longer Lesley the sniper.  She was Lesley, the noble daughter of Duke Vance.

"Please be kind," I whispered into Aamon's ear as I stood aside to let him through. I readied myself to jump him if he so much as said a harsh word.

Aamon stood in front of the bed.   Lesley stared back at him, not a single trace of fear on her.  "I shouldn't have been...merciless, as Gusion put it.  I should have listened to Diana when she insisted my judgement was too severe.  Lesley Vance, as Duke of House Paxley, I offer my formal apology."

To my surprise, Aamon placed a hand over his chest and gave Lesley a deep bow from the waist.  Lesley's eyes widened in surprise as she let out the breath she had been holding. 

I stared at Aamon, every bit as dumbfounded as Gusion and Lesley.  Whatever happened to Paxley pride?

Aamon straightened, cold eyes holding Lesley's stare.  Lesley gave him a small nod, heavy with meaning.  I watched as Aamon inclined his head respectfully at her before he turned on his heel and strode out the door, robes billowing behind him.

It was silent for a moment.

"Diana," Gusion said, raising an eyebrow at me.  "What in the world did you feed Aamon?"

—————-

Gusion and I spent a good part of the afternoon taking care of Lesley.  Though she was still a tad shaken from Aamon's abrupt apology, she'd managed to shrug it off entirely after an hour or so. In-game, I'd always admired Lesley for her deadly true damage that could one shot enemies, as well as her cool demeanor.

In person, what I didn't expect was her sensitive side.  Gusion and I had insisted on her having a lazy afternoon off.  He had convinced Vassago to raid Aamon's private library for books Lesley might enjoy.  And so, the late afternoon found the sharpshooter engrossed in a book of firearms in our apartment sitting room, a comfy robe thrown over her shoulders.  Goodness knows what Aamon was doing with a book on firearms when he mainly used magic in combat.

"Maybe we can see who aims better, what do you think?" Gusion asked as Lesley flipped a page of the book she read.  She was sitting on the couch in front of the fire, while Gusion sat on the other end.