A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1641 - 1641: The Unexpected - Part 2

He would be caught at times, sitting on a bench, absentmindedly gazing at the sky as the snow gathered around him, holding his hand out like a child, as if there was nothing more special than the gathering of the little powder in his hands.

Then just as suddenly, he would disappear away, and not be seen for days at a time, only to appear again, with that red-haired woman, wearing a smile of such warmth that it might have melted away some of the ice.

He seems far too youthful, too childish, to be of any sort of threat, and the very fact that he was such a threat made the appearance all the more terrifying. That a man could switch through such extremes, and be as overwhelming as he had been in the closing stages of the battle with the Emerson's – it was a matter of the utmost concern.

"Do you think it'll stay as calm as it is now?" Nila asked of Oliver, as she peered through one of the windows of the Blackwell estate, looking in the direction of all the gathered tents of the soldiers that they had captured.

"I imagine not," Oliver said gently, playing with a fiery piece of wood that he had snatched from the fire, enjoying the sight of its flames tracing light through the air.

"You're getting ash everywhere," Nila scolded, plucking it from his hand. "And what of these fine rugs? One little ember, and you'd set fire to all of them."

Oliver allowed her to do as she pleased in tossing the wood in the fire, looking not in the slightest perturbed by it.

"What?" Nila said, seeing his look, as if there had never been a more endearing sight.

"Nothing. Just you," Oliver said.

"You're such a strange boy," Nila said, shaking her head. "How is it that you're so relaxed now? I'm not complaining… I told you that you ought to be. And I'd worried about you for a time – you were forsaking sleep for a good few months. For the battle, and for your strategy that you were so worried about. But now you're… You're like the opposite."

"That's because of you as well," Oliver said, putting a finger to her forehead when she dared to come closer to him. He grinned, seeing the small finger print of ash that he'd left there.

"You've marked me, haven't you?" She said, wiping furiously at her face. "You're such a monster. I only just washed my face half an hour ago. This'll probably give me a rash too. Do you know how horrid ash is on skin?"

"Hmmm," Oliver said. "I suppose you'll be telling me."

"Yes, I shall be telling you. I'll come back when the rash is there, and we'll see just how happy with yourself you are," Nila said. "I'm going to be walking around all day looking like some diseased woman because of your playing."

"And what disease do you suppose you have?" Oliver said. "A disease of the mind, perhaps?"

"It's on my skin," Nila bit back. "Does it really seem like a disease of the mind?"

Oliver shrugged lazily, and fell back on the rug in front of the fire. "I have not the slightest idea when it comes to those sorts of diseases. An infected wound, maybe… Perhaps we can steer our little story in that direction, so that I have something to say."

"Perhaps you'd better," Nila said, sitting down next to him. "What does the day hold in store for you, mighty General Patrick?"

He grinned at her, and raised a hand up to touch her cheek. "I think I might bask in my victory for a little while longer. You know, given that I was so certain we'd die just a few weeks ago."

Nila had to smile back at the memory, though there was a certain edge to the smile, as she remembered just how much of a struggle those few weeks leading up to the battle had been. She'd seen a side of Oliver that she'd never expected to see. "We all expected to lose, I think… And we would have, without you, though you were so determined that we were defeated from the start."

"Ah, but we were Nila – I was," Oliver said with iron certainty. "All I was, all I still am, it wasn't enough. By my will, that battle would have been lost. I didn't have the will to change it."

"Then what did happen?" Nila said. "Who was it that won it for us, if not you?"

"It was everything but I," Oliver said. "It was you. It was Volguard. It was Yorick. It was each man, each peasant, that became a soldier, with each harsh day of training. It was the wind when it picked up past the half-way point of our battle. It was the slippery mud that came through once the spilled blood had melted away the snow. It was that horse that came and found me, when the Emersons stole Walter from me. It was everything – everything but me."

"I still don't understand, Oliver," Nila said, running her fingers through his hair, as Oliver lifted his head, and allowed her to sit it on her lap.

"You ought to," Oliver said, struggling to manoeuvre a hand up to her head, so that he might pat her head in turn. "You were the cause of it."

"How?" Nila said.

"You always force me to explain the things I struggle with most," Oliver growled. "It's embarrassing, you know, and it's not as if I have the words."

"Why?"

"I hate you," Oliver said, turning over so he couldn't look at her. "You're incredibly cruel when you ask 'why' in response to something you know full well I can't explain. You make me look a silly man."

"Why?"

"I'm going to bite you," Oliver threatened.

"Fineeeee," Nila said. "But at least try, would you? I want to understand. Are you okay? Are you not okay? Should I be doing more for you? I don't know what I should do… It's scary. We're still so young, Oliver. It's so strange to realize that. It's only in talking to Lord Idris, who pointed it out, that I remember. We have made it to our twentieth year yet – and here you are, with so much responsibility. It's only natural that the lead up to such a battle would break you."