Whittle threw open Vicca's bedroom door. "I need your help!"
Vicca dropped the pipe she was holding so that it rolled off the music strewn table. "Whittle... is that a real sword?"
Whittle shifted the solemn weight of the blade on his belt. "It is," he admitted.
"And it's yours?"
"Only if I'm worthy of it."
Vicca shook her head. "I don't know anything about sword fighting, battles, war-" A dark glint in her eye told Whittle that sadness over her departed brothers was still there.
"I don't need help with my training. I need to know," Whittle glanced around, shoved the door closed behind him, and lowered his voice, "how to tell Sween that I... I really like her."
A smirk spread over Vicca's face. She nodded to the seat across from her at the table. "Sit down. We have lots to discuss."
Whittle took a step, hesitated, then darted across the room and sat down.
Vicca drummed her fingers on the table, giving Whittle an appraising look. "This will be a tricky case," she said, finally, "very tricky, indeed."
She stood up and began to pace. "It's obvious that Garten's already in the picture, no guessing there. But Sween... I don't know. I think she thinks she likes him, but her thoughts aren't what she really thinks, I think. Do you understand?"
Whittle screwed up his face. "I think." He rubbed his temples. "So... she likes me?"
Vicca frowned.
"She doesn't like me."
Vicca shook her head. "She doesn't know who she likes. She was just starting to fall in love with Garten, but then he left. Now, she'll have a lot of thinking to do, a lot of questions, and a lot of lonely nights crying herself to sleep."
Whittle's heart did a little flop when he thought of Sween crying in the dead of night with no one to comfort her. He gulped.
Vicca nodded. "Oh, yes. Yes, I can see it in your face Whittle. What is your first inclination when you think of Sween alone and sad?"
"I... I..."
Vicca sat down across from him and leaned over the table. She held out something white and frilly. "Take this, Whittle, and give it to her the next time you see her crying."
Whittle took the thing and stared at it. "A handkerchief?"
"It's obvious you care about her, Whittle, quite a bit, I might add. Personally, I think Garten's too proud and too grand for her. She needs a friend, not a hero. If you stand by her, comfort her, she'll grow to like you as more than a companion. Then, you can pull out the confession of love and all that. First, though, just be yourself and treat her with respect."
Whittle clenched his fist around the handkerchief. "I will." He got to his feet and turned to leave. Then, he turned back. "Thanks, Vicca. I don't know what I would do without you."
Vicca smirked. "You'd be a lost cause, for one thing!"
Whittle shrugged off the tease. "You're probably right." With that, he stepped into the hall.
"Counseling sessions are sixpence an hour from now on," Vicca called after him, "plus tax!"
Whittle rolled his eyes.
#TheTraitorsLove #Swhittle4evah!!!! #ImLikingWhittleMoreAndMoreEveryChapter
I think I'm nearly a quarter of the way through this story. I hope to finish around the same time as the end of Ember Rising. 😬
I hope you liked it!
Oh this is a prequel for Whittle and Sween. Got it. Good job.
#SwhittleisLife This is like a real prequel!!!!!!!!!! I love this!!!!! 🔥
AHHHHHH SO CUTE #SWITTLE FOR EVER