Chapter Text
Lamb slips on the ice.
In hindsight, she should have been more careful. Her feet ache dully from cold, the snow tolerable on her fine skin only for the dragon blood in her veins, but her traction is poor. She ought to have considered treads, at the very least.
Still, she is saved from a hard crash to the ice by an arm around her back and another looped under her knees, and just like that she is swept up. The shock of falling is replaced by embarrassment when she looks up to see the handsome (if not weathered) face of her rescuer and sees him grinning wolfishly at her. It's that guy with the bow, the one who had come as reinforcements.
"Careful, Princess," he says. It sounds like a term of endearment rather than a title, and it's the first time she's heard that from someone who isn't also royalty themselves. His lips are full, despite being curved slyly.
"Put me down... um," she says. She fumbles for a name and comes up blank.
"You don't remember my name?" he says, hurt.
Lamb tries to sit up in his arms and find her own feet, but he has such a grip on her, and he is so tall that she isn't fond of the idea of dropping onto the ice.
"Sorry, we just met in the middle of a battle," she says. "Put me down!"
He does no such thing.
"I'm offended," he says. "Not fifteen minutes ago, I dispatched a soldier who was going to strike you, and I did it from fifty yards with only my modest bow. Not only did I go unthanked then, but now I've caught you and you can't even recall my name. No, I think I shall hold you until you say my name."
Lamb looks at him, startled. She's seldom been so abruptly denied anything in her life, sheltered as it has been.
"But I don't remember," she protests.
"It'll be a terribly awkward journey back to the castle," he agrees. "You'd better think on it carefully."
His arms are strong and broad, and though she is quite unhappy to linger, he cradles her with such expertise that she curiously wonders if he pulls this trick on many women.
"You're Leo's retainer," she tries. "You're with that other guy, the dark mage."
"Oh, how I wish I was with that guy," the man says, but he doesn't just say it -- he purrs it, a low rumble that she feels through his chest. "But a job description isn't a name, my dear. Out with it."
"This is so silly, please just put me down," she says, flustered now. Her cheeks feel warm enough to melt the snow, or maybe the whole village around them.
"If you truly don't remember," he says, "we'll have to make a deal."
He seems like the type to make a lot of deals, though maybe not the kind Lamb would consider savoury or fair. In fact, he seems like he's about to ransom her, and though she may be naive and sweet, her intuition is not so poor that she'd languish in his arms.
"I don't think so," she says.
She tries to wiggle free from him at that, but his grip is quite good and he only ends up twirling her around with him to keep her balance off. They tussle for a minute, him laughing, and she heaves a sigh and says with such exasperation: "Tell me your terms, then! If I can't remember your name, but you still need to put me down."
"You give me a kiss," he says. "And I shall tell you my name and put you down."
Her cheeks burn red.
"But I've never kissed anyone before," she protests. "And your name is not that valuable!"
He just laughs, and before she can plead her case more, he sets her right down on her feet, a hand still on the small of her back to steady her.
"You may kiss me when you are ready, then. I will remember that," he says, cheekily. "And you will surely remember now, too — my name is Niles."
Niles. As she skitters across the ice towards the rest of their camp, she knows she won't forget.