Chapter Text
“Mmmmm…. Good Morning, Sexy. Have fun last night?” These words dredged Beau up through the muddled, murky, waters of her subconscious. Instinctively, she let out a small grumble and pulled the warm body next to her closer and tighter to her own torso. She had one brief and beautiful moment of peace before her eyes snapped open, bloodshot and burning uncomfortably.
“FUCK!”
Beau leaped bodily out of the bed with what would normally be a display of agility and athleticism but due to the copious amounts of alcohol still working its way out of her system, the motion sent her sprawling in an uncoordinated tangle of limbs and sheets. From her vantage point on the cold, dusty floor, Beau could see the morning sun and its brilliant orange hue indicating that she was about to be irreparably late for morning drills at the Marrow Keep.
For the briefest of moments, Beau entertained the thought of not showing up at all. It would be so simple. All it would take was a completely new identity, a few minor incidents of arson to take care of personnel paperwork, she had savings, and she could-- No. That was absurd, even for Beau’s imagination. She had no choice but to get across Zedash as fast as possible and endure whatever cruel punishment Captain Dairon had in store for her.
Beau’s bedfellow lounged on the bed, watching with a bemused expression as her one-night stand tore through her bedroom like a bugbear in a blood rage. Her dark hair spread across the rumpled pillows and remaining bedding as she made herself comfortable; content with doing the bare minimum to assist Beau.
“Have you seen my--”
The woman silently pointed to Beau’s undergarments dangling from a sconce on the wall.
“Ok well what about my--”
Another smug gesture indicated the place where Beau’s regulation military uniform lay crumpled and half-obscured under a decorative area rug.
Beau quickly accepted defeat and allowed her…. companion to silently direct her around the room while she collected her lost belongings and donned most of them with speed and efficiency. In a few short moments, Beau was dressed enough to venture outside. She had just begun to climb out the window to the street below before she remembered her manners and paused with one leg awkwardly dangling outside. She awkwardly rubbed a hand over her face before turning to look back in the bedroom.
“Ok, this is awkward because I don’t exactly remember your name but I really should thank you fo--”
Keeping with the morning’s theme of cutting Beau short, the dark-haired woman silenced her with a passionate kiss that left Beau’s head swimming.
“My name is Rayna and you can thank me by buying me drinks again this week. And don’t worry about contacting me, I know where you Righteous Brand types like to hang out after hours.”
Beau could do little else but nod mutely before beginning to leap acrobatically down the building (with a few extra flips intended to impress the woman leaning casually out her bedroom window).
As her boots hit the rooftop of a smaller building below, Beau could hear the sounds of the Pentamarket slowly coming to life around her, which left her with precious little time to get all the way through the Signet Wall and into the eastern side of the city. She gritted her teeth determinedly. The best way to avoid the early morning traffic was by taking a slightly unorthodox path. She pivoted slightly so she was facing due east, and began to scale a drainage pipe to her left which connected her to a maze of rooftops, chimneys, balconies, and awnings. Not the best shortcut but it would have to do.
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Colonel Dairon was furious. They were beyond furious and dangerously close to fuming. It was more than a quarter past sunrise proper which meant that Sergeant Beauregard Lionett was late. Over the past four years, Dairon had taken a distinct interest in Beauregard’s career even to the extent of mentoring her, personally. The only thing Dairon required of their mentees was absolute perfection; this Beauregard was not. While Beauregard was able to rise through the ranks and continuously outperform the vast majority of her cadet class, repeated disciplinary infractions and a serious problem with authority had stained the soldier’s record almost to the point of no return.
At Dairon’s repeated urging, Beau had taken on the responsibility of running twice-weekly morning drills for the youngest and greenest recruits, on top of her regular duties. This was intended to help her demonstrate leadership skills and put her in consideration for a highly coveted promotion, and yet with all that on the line, Dairon was left standing with a room full of new recruits and no instructor.
Just as Dairon was about to give up and resign themselves to assigning Sergeant Lionett latrine duty for two months, a strange sound pierced the early morning. It sounded like thunder maybe? No, the sky was much too clear for any inclement weather. Voices? Shouting? Someone screaming for help? Whatever it was, it was getting closer.
“FFFUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKK…”
It was none of the above. Beau’s endless string of profanity and the pounding of her feet on rooftop shingling were only stopped when she jumped down to the ground directly in front of Dairon and rose to rigid attention, her face reddening quickly with the effort of stopping herself from gulping air into aching lungs. Without the slightest change in expression, Dairon dismissed the young Sergeant’s formal posture with a vague hand wave.
Immediately, Beau folded in half like a napkin, bracing herself with palms on her quaking knees.
“I’m. Sorry. Slept in. Still got here,” Beau’s excuses were punctuated by colossal heaving breaths, “ran whole way. Roofs slippery. Only fell once.” Beau’s complaints withered under Dairon’s cold and unimpressed stare.
“That’s quite enough Sergeant.”
“I just wa--”
“I said that’s quite enough.” Dairon’s steely tone and the expression in their eyes were enough to instantly quash any inklings of rebellion that Beau might have had. “When I recommended you for this position, I was under the impression that you were aware of the opportunity in your possession. The group of recruits in that room are new and untrained, but not without potential. By trusting you with their instruction, I and the other Officers had hoped to get a sense of your ability to lead, foster growth, and judge potential for yourself. Your apparent disregard for this opportunity is...disappointing to say the least.”
Beau’s posture withered more with each additional condemnation of her careless mistake. By the time Dairon stopped to take a breath, Beau’s gaze was firmly fixed on the loose pebbles and stones beneath her boots and her shoulders stooped with a mixture of embarrassment and humility.
Dairon pinched the bridge of their nose and looked down at the figure in front of them, the image of dejection. “Beauregard, you are not without promise. I wouldn’t have taken an interest in you if you were; but if you truly have aspirations in this legion, if you ever hope to be offered a place among my soldiers in the Cobalt Soul Elite Regiment,” –they leaned close to Beau’s downcast face, nearly touching– “then fucking act like it. I will not give this warning again.” Dairon immediately straightened, let out a single guttural command, and watched as Beau snapped to attention without pausing to wipe the few tears that crawled down her cheeks. They turned sharply on their heel and strode away from the dingy alley, leaving Beau to collect herself.
Just before turning the corner, Dairon stopped and flippantly shouted, “I suppose it goes without saying that you will be solely responsible for scrubbing the officer’s latrine by hand for the next two weeks. See that you don’t force me to extend that time any further,” they waved lazily and continued on their way without so much as a backward glance.
Dairon knew their warning had not gone unheeded. The unbridled fury in Beau’s eyes was enough to assuage any concern Dairon may have had about the Sergeant’s ability to rise to the occasion. They allowed themselves a small smirk as they pictured all kinds of hell Beauregard was about to unleash on the new recruits.
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Beau stood, statuesque, at attention until Dairon had rounded the corner and then just a few moments longer. She felt the muscles burning in her back and legs and relished the feeling. She roughly swiped the moisture from her cheeks, wiped it on the trousers of her uniform. This would be the last slip-up she would make before the recruiting season.
For nearly two years, the thought of eventually joining the Cobalt Soul had been the only thing keeping her going and she wasn’t about to let it slip through her fingers; not after so much of her blood, sweat, and tears had already been lost to this cause.
Beau took a second to smooth her close-cropped hair back and straighten her uniform before she spun and kicked the door to the trainee barracks open with a single swift strike. The door burst inward with a resounding crash and the resulting shrieks of surprise and fear brought a brilliant smile to Beau’s face. She stalked into the room like a beast, storming past the recruits as they scrambled to get organized and come to attention.
“ALRIGHT, you little worms. That was your first lesson of the Righteous Brand,” she spat, “ALWAYS EXPECT EVERYTHING. Tomorrow morning, I might drop down on you from the FUCKING ceiling. If you are surprised, you’re dead. If you’re scared, you’re dead. If you wish you hadn’t joined the military, well then I’m so sorry for the trouble and you’re free to go,” with that, Beau folded her arms and waited patiently for someone to take the bait.
A few of the young soldiers looked around at each other, unsure.
“We can just leave? Just like that?” a portly young man with a nasty case of acne piped up sheepishly from the middle of the pack. Beau did her best not to smile. This was too easy.
“OF COURSE YOU FUCKING CAN’T, YOU MISERABLE EXCUSE FOR A TROLL TURD,” Beau’s voice boomed and echoed through the cramped space, “NOW EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU IS GOING TO DROP AND GIVE ME PUSH-UPS UNTIL YOUR EYEBALLS ARE SWEATING. GO GO GO NOW NOW NOW!”
In record time, Beau had reduced the recruits to a puddle of sniveling, shaking wretches. She did note with a slight sense of disappointment that only three of them had vomited from exhaustion. She vowed to do better in the next week’s exercises. As she dismissed the newbies, she made a mental note to examine the training grounds for unexpected access points and to list potential ways to make a dramatic entrance. She would bet her Sergeant’s bars that she could make at least one of these little turds piss themselves in surprise before the winter came.