The Rebellion's Ashes | Book One | End of an Empire

Chapter Thirty-Five Pt 2

The stars flickered dimly overhead as Rowan descended the steps from her helicopter and dropped to the grassy ground outside Montague's tent.  The camp of the northern Imperial Army looked almost identical to its southern counterpart, rows of tents and vehicles spreading away into the distance, flickering with light and motion like the stars had seen fit to join them on the ground for the night.

A quiet ahem from her left made her turn.  Damien stood in the door of his tent, leaning against the doorpost with his arms folded.  "Are you going to stand there admiring my camp all night or come in?"

"Hush, you," she scolded, breaking from her daze and striding over to meet him.  He stayed planted in front of the door, grinning down at her.  "Are you going to stand in the way all night or do we actually have a meeting to run?"

"No hello?" he asked snidely.

Rowan rolled her eyes.  "Hello.  Lovely night for a meeting isn't it?"

Chuckling, Damien shifted aside to let her in.  The tent was small and considerably warmer than the evening cool outside, the heat of the day trapped within the close walls.  A small table sat in the center of the tent with a chair on either side.  Off to the side, a small cot was set up against the wall.  Other than a suitcase shoved beneath it, the rest of the tent was empty.

"Why here?" she asked, turning a circle to take in the humble dwelling.

"Why not?"  He took a seat at the desk and leaned back, folding his legs elegantly and draping himself over the fold out chair like it was a velvet throne.  "Far less formal for catching up with old friends than a stiff, stuffy office."

Rowan stiffly took the seat across from him, narrowing her eyes at his languid smile.  After a moment's pause, she asked, "Do you strike a pose every time I'm around?"

Damien straightened abruptly, looking mildly offended.  "No."  His frown morphed into a smirk, as he added, "Looking good just comes naturally to me."

With a low groan, Rowan rubbed her eyes, shaking her head slowly.  "You never fail to remind me why I hate you."

He laughed softly.  "I can see why you need reminding."

"You're insufferable."

"Yes, well–" he propped his chin in one hand, elbow on the table– "Let's get this meeting over with then, so we can get back to our separate work, shall we?"

Rowan nodded stiffly.  "I wanted to talk to you about Norman.  Are your troops ready to move on Oklahoma City?"

"Of course.  Guthrie is broken.  Every rebel still fighting fled, and everyone else with sense stayed and surrendered."  He grinned, a wry flash of teeth.  "There's not a whole lot left to spend time occupying."

She nodded, drawing breath to speak again when Damien's coat rippled suddenly, a bulge expanding below his chest and wriggling upward.  Rowan jumped as he barked a laugh, probably at her utterly shocked expression, unbuttoning his collar.  The lump wormed its way higher, then with a shove, the collar split and the head of a cat popped out beneath his chin, blinking in the light.

Rowan blinked back.  The tiny creature let out a vocal purr, as if questioning why it had been awakened.

"When did you get a cat?" she demanded as the kitten clawed its way up onto his shoulder.

"One of my soldiers found her," he said with amusement, buttoning his collar again.  A rather childish smirk crossed his face as the cat rubbed its skinny face against his cheek.  "Obviously cats aren't up to infantry code, and..."  He trailed off, leaving the rest to her imagination.

Shaking her head, Rowan tried to fight the urge.  She really did.  Lives were at stake back home, but...  "What's her name?"

"Her name," he echoed pointedly to her great puzzlement, "Is Freckles."

"Named by the soldier or by you?"

He scoffed.  "The soldier.  If I'd named her she would've been a Clara.  Or a Sybil."

"Of course," she said, rolling her eyes heavenward.  "Only you would choose such a name."

"I think they're unique," he said, stroking the kittens head fondly.

Rowan watched him for a moment, squashing the urge to ask to pet it.  Asking for the name was enough wasting time for one night.  "Very sweet," she said, "If you have no more hidden surprises, perhaps we can get on to actual business?"

Damien gave her a very motherly look, brows arching surreptitiously as if to mock her previous question about the cat.  When she gave him no reaction, he only smiled, stroking Freckle's head again.  "Of course."

"I wanted to talk to you about my plans for Oklahoma City."

Before she could get any further Damien waved a hand for her to stop, shaking his head as if the idea pained him.

Rowan's brow pinched irritably.  "What?"

His keen blue eyes flickered open, staring seriously at her with almost a warning, pleading expression.  Her eyes narrowed in question and he shook his head, one finger trailing from Freckle's head up to tap his ear.  He drew a circle in the air to encompass the room.  Ears everywhere.  "Tell me about your spy."

Rowan's heart gave a flutter.  Someone was listening.  Just what was he playing at?  The Politician side of her curled up and refused to speak, stubborn and silent for fear that it might say something regrettable in the presence of a rival and some mystery listener.  Yet the General knew that Damien loved his country enough that he would not direct the conversation so as to give away vital information to whoever this someone was.  Tracing her tongue over her lips, she replied calmly, "He's dead."

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

*studio gasp* What is Damien playing at?  Who on earth could be listening? (Other than Freckles of course) \_0-0_/ gosh I wonder

Aaaand I forgot to update yesterday because I was watching Band of Brothers whoOPs, but here we are now!!  That show is heckin good 10/10 recommend to everyone who can take the... frequent... appearance of blood and guts and foul language+good ol' soldier-y humor.  It's such a good show I can't– T-T

Blah anyway.  Since TRA is done and mostly finished with the skim/posting edit, I've begun working on TGF and I'm excitedddddd even though it is kicking my butt x'D

OOH HEADER ART I almost forgot! Due to the recent quandary regarding Freckles, TheSmellOfHome broke out the memes for me and illustrated this lovely piece in honor of the Freckles Dilemma.  Spoiler alert, Freckles is in fact female. ;)

Have a great week my friends!

~ General Pretzel