Old Oaths, Lon Remembered by Lia Cooper (C) 2019
Authors Note: I wrote this for submission to an anthology earlier this year. It wasn’t accepted (obvs) and it’s just been sitting in my folders ever since. I don’t know what to do with it tbh, but it’s set in a wider fantasy world I’d one day like to write. For now, I’m releasing it here to the wilds of my website in case there’s anyone still out there interested in what I’m creating. Here’s a freebie.
This short story is set in a world where a knight came to save a sleeping beauty who ended up saving herself. F/F
DO NOT REPOST
It wasn’t the most absurd thing she’d ever done, surely. Though Jean couldn’t recall a more ridiculous situation.
“Time is getting away from you, old girl,” she muttered under her breath, checking the tension of the leather straps holding her riding leathers to her chest and back. “Making you forget.”
Because of course this wasn’t the most dangerous situation, nor the most puzzling, or even the most frightening. It should have been. Their future hinged on how well she and Mel played their parts in the coming days. They faced destruction, an upheaval to everything they’d spent the last twenty-five years building.
But while Jean couldn’t think of a moment that stacked up to this one in sheer dumb-fuckery, she found herself strangely serene.
She wasn’t afraid.
Her aide pulled on her right glove and began tightening it down. The weight of the oiled leather and riveted maille made an old injury in that wrist twinge. She’d woken that morning with three fingers curled painfully from a malady in the joints, and she couldn’t stand this long without periodically relieving the pressure on her knees and hips. Her body felt every previous battle, every fight, every one of her forty-eight hard lived years.
She should be afraid, but she didn’t feel anything.
“Sir?” the aide asked, freezing with the left glove in her hands.
Jean shook her head. “Who is readying my horse?”