Chapter Fourteen

“You know this is a suicide mission, don't you?” I asked.

“Yeah, I kind of figured as much,” she replied.

We were sitting at a bar around the corner from her apartment, nursing our drinks. I was surprised when she'd invited me to come out for a nightcap – but found that I was glad for it. I knew what we'd agreed to. Knew what we were walking into. And knew that our chances of surviving it were slim. So yeah, sue me for wanting to have a little company on one of my final nights among the living.

“Then why did you agree to it?” I asked. “Why are you willing to march to your death like that?”

She took a sip of her drink and set it down on the bar. “Because what we've built – the Children and the Dragonborn – it's bigger than me. It's bigger than both of us, Deyro,” she said. “If we happen to die on our mission – which yeah, is probably likely – what we've built and been a part of is going to continue. It will go on. We have the chance to make sure of that.”

“It almost sounds like you've already accepted your death as a certainty,” I said.

Her laugh was soft, but sad. “I don't want to die,” she said. “There was a time I did want to die, yeah. But not now. When Ella and the Children took me in – it gave me a whole new purpose. They gave me a reason to live. And believe me, I want to live. I want to keep doing what we're doing.”

I took a long swallow from my beer and set the bottle down. “And what is it we're doing, Alex?”

She looked at me with something akin to irritation in her face. “You really have to ask that question?”

“I'm just curious and want to hear your answer.”

“We're defending the powerless,” she snapped. “Protecting those who can't protect themselves. We're preserving life and not letting the evil things in the dark take it away from anybody.”

I nodded slowly. I knew of Alex's upbringing. Knew what she'd endured. So, it was unsurprising to me to hear her speak so passionately about protecting the weak and powerless. About preserving the life – and she could have said, innocence – of those who could not protect themselves. It was personal to her. Deeply, deeply personal.

Which was one thing that made her so determined to be the best at what she did. In some way, I thought Alex believed that by saving lives, she was also somehow saving her own. Or at least, by slaying the creatures we slayed, she was somehow doling out punishment to those who'd abused her so badly. Those who'd stolen her life and her innocence.

That is what drove her. That's what inspired her. And that deep commitment as well as the fiery passion in her – which were plain to see – is what made her an inspiration to other people. It's what made people believe in her. It's what made people look to her in a crisis. What made them follow her.

It was why I knew Quint thought her a better leader than me. And sitting there, in that dimly lit bar, I couldn't say that I disagreed with him. Hell, I was willing to follow her into a hornet's nest I knew was going to result in my death.

It also made me consider my own reasons for becoming a Ranger. And as I considered them – and compared them to Alex's, I realized that mine were shallow and selfish. Yes, I believed in the mission. I genuinely believed in helping those who could not help themselves. In protecting and defending life.

But on another level, I knew that I'd become a Ranger for the prestige that went with it. For the honor of being one of Chondelai's elite. I'd always been very good with a sword – it was a natural gift. So, being able to hone that gift seemed the next logical step. And because I was held in such high esteem as a Ranger, I was considered a hero. It heightened the esteem I – and my family – was held in.

My family was of the lower Houses in our clan. Growing up, we were never held in much esteem. But once I excelled in the Academy, once I made a name for myself and became a Ranger, my family's level of esteem and prestige shot through the roof. And when I became a Warden, it would only grow further. I knew if I continued on doing what I was doing, it wouldn't be long before we became one of the major Houses in our clan.

So yeah, at the heart of things, my reasons for becoming a Ranger were selfish. They were motivated by reasons other than pure belief in the mission. I told myself that devotion to my family, to my House, was noble. It was pure. And there was nothing wrong with it. I could hold a belief in my mission and seek to better my family's position at the same time – they were not mutually exclusive things.

But as I sat there, listening to Alex, and knowing what I did about her, I began to feel selfish. Cowardly. A loathsome creature. Her belief was pure. Her motivation for what she did was rooted in others – without thought of gain for herself. She served – and would gladly give her life – so that others could live free and safe. And neither for, nor expecting, anything in return.

Yeah, in that moment, I felt like a real asshole.

“What do you think about Shango's other requirement?” I asked in an attempt to lighten the mood some – and because I was a little bit curious.

She laughed. “What? About us getting married?” she said. “It's absurd.”

“Yeah,” I laughed along with her. “Totally absurd. Why do you think so though?”

She looked at me and rolled her eyes. “Seriously? Us? Married?” she asked. “We barely get along well enough to not kill each other most days.”

I shrugged and gave her a flirty little smile. “I can think of plenty of times we got along pretty well.”

“That's sex,” she said. “Totally different from marriage. Or even a relationship. We're both adults, we both live strange lives, we both have needs – we're there to scratch those itches when we get them. Nothing complicated about it. We both get something out of the deal, so it's all good. Why overthink or overcomplicate things?”

I had no idea what was going on in my head, but her words hit me hard. Again. To hear whatever it was between us described in such cold, clinical terms was – strangely upsetting to me. Strange, because I didn't understand it. Didn't understand where that upset was coming from. It was disconcerting, really.

“Do you really think marriage is a – complication?” I asked.

She nodded and drained the last of her drink, signaling to the bartender for another round. “It can be, yeah.”

“How so?”

The bartender came over and slid fresh drinks in front of us. Alex picked up her glass and downed half of it in one swallow. Which told me that she was more nervous than she was letting on. Which was good. Fear could be a useful tool – and in the coming fight, we were going to need every arrow in our quiver.

Of course, even having a full arsenal might not be enough to get us out alive. Probably wouldn't be.

“When you get married, there are suddenly expectations,” she said. “There are demands. Compromises. You're suddenly answerable to somebody. I don't like being answerable to anybody. I don't like any man – no offense – thinking he can control me. Dictate my behavior. Think he has some say in how I live my life.”

And that was the root of it. Her power and control over herself – her own agency – had been stripped away from her at such a young age. And she'd lived her life in fear, under the control of another for so long, that now she rebelled against even the vaguest notion of giving that up again.

Ella and the Children had certainly given her a new life – and a new spirit. They'd infused her with a fire I rarely saw in humans. And in that moment, sitting at that bar with her as we contemplated our own demises, I realized just how attractive I found her to be – and realized that I carried feelings for her I never let myself accept before.

But of course, I knew I had to stuff those down. Abandon them. Those feelings weren't going anywhere, so it was pointless to dwell on them.

“Wait,” she said, a mischievous smirk on her face. “You weren't really thinking about it, were you?”

“Thinking about what?”

“Marrying me,” she said, a wide smile on her face. “You weren't seriously considering it, were you?”

I waved her off and forced out a laugh I hoped sounded natural – and real. “Of course not,” I said. “That's crazy.”

“Beyond crazy,” she said.

I nodded, sipped my beer, and looked away from her, unable to meet her eyes. A long moment of silence stretched out between us and I found myself grappling with a maelstrom of emotions I'd never really felt before. It was confusing and yet, at the same time, exhilarating. I wasn't one given to deep emotions. They weren't something I related well to. So, to suddenly have this overwhelming wave of emotions pulling me under – as odd as it was, it was something I enjoyed. I thought it almost made me more – human – in a way.

Not that I aspired to be human – but it did allow me to understand them better. To better relate to them. And if I wanted to be a Warden, and have the Scouts under my command, I was going to have to learn to relate to them.

“Besides,” she said, “it's not like we're even going to get out of this live to get married.”

“Right,” I said. “Of course.”

“Because, you know, this is a total suicide mission,” she said. “Which kind of makes the whole getting married thing when we return moot, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Absolutely,” I said. “Totally moot.”

“Good,” she said and nodded. “Glad we're on the same page.”

“Me too.”