The day had replayed in his mind, with further clarity as to where they had gone awry each time. They should’ve revised themselves, not taking such a ragtag band. He should’ve summoned members of the Army to assist, having had the power and ability to do it. It wasn’t as if he, or many other members of the group, had come out worse for wear after the entire dragon ordeal. Compared to what had happened to Solara’s steed, his painted mare, too, had managed to escape injury entirely excluding from minor bumps. But the entire thing had been addressed recklessly – as expected, even if not coming from the King, he had dealt with some criticism at Court over it. And in some ways, he felt responsibility over the injuries Solara had suffered, and the loss of her stallion. Perhaps that was the reason he’d been drawn from court.

He had ventured far from the Immortal capitol in favor of seeking out the grassy ranch he’d visited in a time that felt as if it were ages ago. The spirit of his mare did not seemed tempered upon returning to her former home; if anything, when she was finally able to greet the stock at the fence line, he almost felt like he detected a perceptible taunt in her whinnies. With a firm clap from his gloved palm to the side of the neck, he exhaled a soft whistle that sent her cantering forward along the dirt road.

The heat was sweltering, quite the contrast to the cool, misty morning which he had visited on previously. Rather than tearing up dirt beneath her hooves, they cast what felt like a whirlwind of dust all the way up the road. Despite attempts to avoid it, he very quickly found himself powdered with it at the time he finally reached the clustered buildings. Dismounting, leaving her to be taken up by the waiting hands of one of the Immortal woman’s stable hands, several familiar eyes from her servants seemed to at once recognize their visitor. It was not long before someone obliged in directing the looming Commander – this time dressed much more casually than during his last visit – to her.

He found her perched beside a fence line, as promised. An introduction had just been about to play on his lips, however, when she beat him to it, speaking with her back still presented to him. It became quite apparent in that instant, though, that her words were not meant for him specifically. At once, the Commander felt a small smirk twist his mouth before he simply strode forward and walked over to prop himself at her side. “Certainly it is. Will you come in and join me?”

A small, quiet chuckle. “How is your shoulder?”

Far from the sort to be bothered by something as simple as her state of dress, the Commander seemed entirely unfazed by her appearance. In fact, a small, charming smile twisted his lips to match her own excited one. Despite the circumstances, he did enjoy having the chance to drop in. It had been a while since he had had any sort of opportunity to interact with the Immortal woman, and the last opportunity had been… Well, the dragon hunt. And she had been injured. It didn’t make for the best chance to visit. “Perhaps I should’ve announced myself. Maybe next time.” He almost offered a hand, but she rose before he could do so.

His gaze wandered briefly from her face to settle on the shoulder, and the man offered a slow nod at her words. “I can’t say I’m unsurprised that you didn’t track down a healer, given how you stitched me up the last time I was here.” A small, dry smile quirked the corner of his mouth. Reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, he prepared to answer her next question. Only, he didn’t get a chance before her eyes stretched wide with alarm and she grasped his arm.

Immediately he waved his hand, gesturing back behind his shoulder in the direction of the barn. “No, of course not. She is being taken care of by one of your staff now probably. She’s been wonderful… Even if she has too much personality for herself sometimes.” Well, that was the polite way of putting it. In actuality, she was still a sassy, temperamental bitch, but it made for interesting travels. Truthfully, the small challenges of managing her had made her his favorite mount.

Clearing his throat, he paused a moment. Why he was here, and Court rumors. Well, perhaps those went hand-in-hand in a type of way. Shifting to follow her, his eyes darted to watch the delicate curve of her palm as she brushed the sweat away from her face. “The King didn’t seem to think much of my actions, seeing as I sent a courier as was working to resolve the threat. Court, however, had a small hay day with it. They act as though my second in command, or the King himself, can’t handle the Army at the capitol if I was absent.” He shrugged. “It’s of no consequence. I’ve dealt with it. As for why I’m out here...” Connor shrugged once more. His next words were truthful, for he had been having a quiet meeting with affiliates of the human King’s Army. “I was in the area on business. I finished earlier today, and figured I’d check in. I hadn’t heard much for updates after you separated from us.”

Something of a glint of mischief flashed in the Immortal man’s eyes as he watched her own searching over his temple for the faint scar. “I’m sure that it will… I think you stitched it a little too cleanly by the way.” Tilting his face to offer her a clearer view, he smirked. “While the scar is not quite as devilishly handsome as I’d hoped, at the least it never got infected. Thank you for that.” Yes, tragically, no women had ogled the marking as of yet. Which was decidedly unfortunate, after his jokes the last time they’d visited… Not that he would’ve been inclined to tell her had that not been the case.

At the continued mention of the paint, Connor shook his head, though a broad grin crossed his features. "For herself, and maybe the men who help handle her in the stables, but not for me." He chuckled, a low rumble from his throat. "I have some stories to tell you about her. There's at least two stable hands near court that refuse to be around her because they were too spoiled on the mild-mannered stock that also came from you. And there's been at least one instance of her hauling off with me when she wasn't quite supposed to. I don't mind that as much though." A small laugh. "It keeps like interesting. She's taming down the longer I keep her under saddle though. I'm grateful to have her... Even if I've yet to find a suitable name."

His nose wrinkled briefly in memory of the burning marketplace, and the scent of her singed hairs. “Don’t thank me for that. It was just a reaction. To both of those. I am sorry about that mount by the way.” The Commander glanced down as her arm looped through his own, one of his gloved hands settling briefly to squeeze her knuckles at the small tightness he caught at the end of her statement. “And as for our King…” He shrugged. “He’s got a good deal on his plate to oversee, and was Commander before I ever was involved with Court.” Something of a look of dryness crossed his face. Yes. Long ago… That had been the man’s position. While he himself had been participating in a variety of much less public tasks. Clearing his throat, he continued. “No sum of coin could get me to take his position.”

Her glint of mischief was met by an arched brow and a small smirk that he worked to hide. “You forget that I saw you in the market. You looked perfectly suitable to me then.” A small touch of his hand over her fingers in response to their wiggling, his eyes lingering against her own as he briefly recalled their previous interlude in the pond. “But yes, I do know. I wouldn’t worry yourself too much.” The man teased lightly… Though his eyes promptly rolled at her mention of his faltered description. He likely suspected she would never allow him to live it down.

Continuing at a leisurely pace his lips pursed briefly in thought as they made their way toward her home. Omitting his run in with the she-wolf that had since recognized him as her mate seemed like the best course of action right then. It wasn’t as if he necessarily planned to show Solara the scar that still held a purplish hue on his collarbone. He’d just… wanted to see her for some reason. To check in. “Travelling away from Court as I’ve been able. Trying to visit some areas I’ve not seen before. I think it’d be quite fun if I took to mapping inns and taverns; I stop in and drink enough… Which reminds me. I have some palace whiskey in my saddle bag if you’d like it.” He grinned. “Since my wine was too sweet for you.”

Connor regarded her with a small, crooked smile, and shook his head in his own exasperated fashion. “Do indulge me about just who tells you such scandalous things about me.” His voice was teasing, quite clearly. The man was entirely unbothered by the idea of her knowing of his other endeavors. At least, not in specific. Despite his resistance to addressing many truths of his life, that was one he hardly shied away from. As it was, he didn’t expect he’d been the only one in Solara’s bed.

A smaller nod came at the mention of naming the mare. Smacking him in the face, eh? Perhaps. But after several months, that had still yet to come. Calling her ‘the mare’ indiscriminately seemed vague and wasn’t quite to his taste… But he supposed he had never really had a pet or animal as her to call his own. In that way, his indecision made sense. “Hopefully. Painted mare doesn’t quite suit her spirit.”

His eyes lingered on the path ahead of them, before he shot her a small side-eye glance. “You don’t need to tell me twice, Solara. Sometimes I wonder how I deal with the… antics of court.” Oh, hell were there antics. Mistresses, gossip amongst the nobles: most of it seemed to be rumor, but as times passed where whispers proved to be reality? In specific, there was one instance between a mistress, the King, and his son that was on the forefront of his mind, not that he would breathe a word of it to anyone… for now.

Her bright smile and the brush of her hip against his side caused him to mask a smile that was a little too satisfied for his own good. Connor was unsure of what attracted him to this woman so, but whatever it was, he quite appreciated her company. “Good. Worrying over that doesn’t suit you.” His eyes practically gleamed with mischief, his voice lowering so only she might hear. “And yes. You could say that I suppose. At the least, I thought we might enjoy it together, if you’d care to indulge.”

He paused, watching in silence as she instructed her men to refrain from overworking, briefly admiring that attention which she offered them. Though they were her servants, essentially, she did seek to treat them well. That was at the least far better than many. When she turned back to him, he met her with a smile. “If you would like, I would gladly partake.”

A soft skeptical snort sounded low in the back of his throat, though it was clear he didn’t really intent to pursue her ‘trusted contact’ any further. The famed Commander might have even gone so far as to roll his eyes, though the small smile that settled on his face seemed unbothered. In truth, he wasn’t. He’d rather have her know, have one less thing to hide and skirt around… Speaking of which, there was still the matter of Branwen to attend to. Not that he had any intention of bringing up such a thing to Solara or anyone else in an Immortal circle. “So glad I don’t disappoint.” A faint squeeze to her hand which settled on her arm.

His small smile broadened into a smirk of his own as he watched her turn back. A twinkle of mischievous merriment flashed in his eyes. Briefly side-stepping, he made his way the short distance to where his things had been settled atop a hitching post. With a quick movement of his wrist, the fastenings securing his saddle back to his saddle were undone. He approached carrying the whole bag at first, though as he draw close to follow her inside, the man moved to open the top flap which secured the bag shut. It was just as they were entering the room, and she wondering over to her couch, that he quietly settled the bottle of whiskey down with the soft clanking sound of glass on wood. His rump had just settled into a nearby chair when her question caused him to pause.

He didn’t laugh, though he might’ve had it been another. The idea of her, courageous, fierce, and independent as she was, attempting to wield a sword? It was simultaneously amusing and appealing. Drawing a hand up to brush his gloved fingers through his hair, the man regarded her with dark eyes. “Out of bounds, no. I can certainly teach you, but I don’t think I have anything with me that would be of a weight you could learn with. If it’s just sparring you wanted, I suppose we could use sticks…” Trailing off, he shook his head. “If you really want it, I can teach you. Starting with a dagger might be best.” He tilted his head slightly, regarding her. “I don’t presume you want to know for the purpose of training your horses. What is the need?” His tone was appraising, not accusatory. Understanding her interest would help him decide the best way to teach. Oh, were there many…

Reaching forward, he removed the seal from the whiskey before pouring them both generous volumes in their glasses. With his distinctive way of grasping the glass by the rim, he held it out to her, offering a toast.

Connor’s own smile was perhaps less hesitant, though something gleamed in his eyes. A promise? A consideration? A challenge. If she wanted to learn, he would grant her the privilege. After it, it was hardly as though this small, beautiful woman would ever be one to act as he did… To seek opportunity to kill off her tutor. Her purpose was very different, her life less complicated in that regard. She lacked the insistent voices lingering in her thoughts, or compulsions from a bitch of a Goddess, from what he saw. And so, to do her the service would be just that: a service, rather than a risk. So long as he didn’t touch her, that was.

“Or injure your other shoulder; you might not be of much use on the farm in that case.” The Commander quipped dryly with her toast. His own glass touched her offered one with the audible clinking sound, before he drew the liquid to his lips for a deep drink. He placed it back on the table with a small nod of agreement, knowing quite well that the taste would’ve been on par with his expectation. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t sampled it slightly before hand. What type of man would he have been to serve poor whiskey?

Drawn back in by her explanation, his fingers loosely draped over the top of his glass as his other hand settled to prop against his jaw. Connor’s dark eyes narrowed slightly as he considered. All of her points were valid ones. He knew quite well that a trained soldier, even a human one, would have little difficulty decimating her property. Her staff would fall as paper in the rain… And it was not a far leap to guess what would follow. His eyes flicked over the delicate angle over her cheek, before falling and lingering on her shoulder. “I understand. It is good that you are considering this before it is cause for worry.” That was, after the fact.

Drawing his glass to his lips as she did the same, he pressed his lips together as if to savor the taste of the liquor there. One corner of his mouth rose with dry amusement as the businesswoman continued. “Sticks or daggers. We just want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself too badly in the process of learning.” The glint in his eyes made it quite clear that she did not miss the subtlety in her offer, his observation not missing the gleam in her eyes or the quirk to her lips. “I need an excuse to get out of that stuffy court anyway. Consider it done, Solara.”

Shifting, the man’s hand dropped to the small of his back, reappearing with a blade which he held up for her display. The knife itself was well over half the length of her forearm, with a wicked curve that almost seemed to thirst for blood. It was a blade which was well used, one of the man’s most prize tools. Flicking his wrist, sending the weapon into a brief rotation, he snagged the blade between his fingers and held it out to her. With the brass and bone handle offered, he nodded. “Tell me what the weight is like in your hand. That will be a good starting place for us to go get you one for yourself….” He trailed off, brow arching. “Unless you… already might have something?” Nothing in their conversation had given him any such indication. But, as a woman of her own devices, he wouldn’t have put it beyond her.

Wounds heal? Well that was certainly true. He expected nothing less from her, fiercely independent as she always seemed to insist on being. The thought caused him a small smile, while her wink and innuendo caused it to broaden. Shaking his head slightly, he brushed a hand over his face, attempting to hide it. “Oh, Solara, would I expect any less?” His voice held the amusement that a chuckle might’ve also gotten across. Not mocking her, merely intensely enjoying the company in that moment. The familiarity, there was something comforting about it. Akin to seeing his sister or his father… Even if she scarcely was aware of his actual affairs. It was unfortunate… the fact that he couldn’t allow it. The banter with her was something unique, something rare in his experience. “Don’t worry Boss,” he continued with a playful smile, “I’ll try not to disappoint you.”

With her examination of the blade, he found himself slipping easily into a state of greater consideration. Her handling of the blade made it quite clear that she had little experience with such instruments, much in the way of a common person taking up a doctor’s lancet. She herself had explained as much. And yet, somehow, she did have a confidence to it. Not scared of the weight of the thing, even if it was crafted for one much bigger than herself. Nodding appreciatively, he took it back from her and tucked it away once more. “Very well… Though, know that even the best-trained soldier can still lose their knife against a skilled opponent.” His smile was dry, though his eyes seemed a little dark at his next word. “The trick is making them pay a price for it.” Continuing, the light seemed to return to his eyes. Their refreshments and the merriment of her company made it easier. “Don’t worry. I won’t go easy. And I will teach you how to fight to win.”

Rising, he ceremoniously took her hand with his own steady shake. The shake of a promise. Their deal sealed, he leaned down to take up his class though a chuckle rumbled up from his throat at her next words. “I think you are more than bearable, even if the day has had it’s way with you.” Using his free hand, he gently brushed some stray hair from her temple. “If you’ll have me for the evening, I wouldn’t mind staying… Though I would like to send one of your staff with an order for a blacksmith to get you a knife on the way.” He worked quickly. That was the efficient way.