In Other Lands

by Sarah Rees Brennan

Elliot was sure Luke was lurking somewhere in the equipment room, being very conscientious about his gear or something. Luke was good at dealing with people, but he was also truly excellent at receding from them. Sometimes Elliot thought about Rachel calling Luke her shy boy.

“Want to dance?” asked Adam. Elliot stared at him. He couldn’t quite work out the joke. “Um,” he said, and felt a touch on his hand. He looked down and saw Culaine. “I think I’m going to take the dog for a walk.” “I’ll come with you,” Adam said promptly. “Uh, wow. I guess I . . . walked right into that.” It was stupid to walk Culaine, since he lived in a world composed largely of fields and woods where he could roam freely. It seemed Elliot was doing it anyway. Stumbling in the dark, almost falling down a hill, walking a dog that didn’t need to be walked with Adam Sunborn.

“Elliot,” said Rachel, emerging from the room a moment later. “It’s not what you think.” “Okay,” Elliot said numbly. “Michael knows all about it,” Rachel said. “We have an understanding. On a festival occasion, like this, or when we’re apart on patrol, it’s all right for us to have—other friends. Lovers. It’s grown-up stuff, so you might not be able to understand completely—” “You have an open relationship,” said Elliot, deeply relieved. “I read a lot.” “Something like that,” Rachel said. “But the thing is . . . It’s not that Luke doesn’t know. I’m pretty sure he does. But he’s kind of bashful—I don’t understand it, he didn’t get it from my side of the family, and if you said anything to him he might be unhappy or embarrassed. So if you didn’t . . .” Rachel raked her fingers through her tumbled golden hair. “I sound like one of those people who sneak around and make excuses. I’m sorry. Never mind. You can talk to whoever you like.”

Luke lifted the bow, arms steady and able to master it in a way he hadn’t quite been two years ago, and hit the bull’s eye. He aimed and fired again, three times in a row, and every time the arrow he fired hit the arrow before it and split it, so every one landed in the bull’s-eye.

It pleased Elliot in a distant way to hear it, but it didn’t matter, not really. He kept his head high in case Rachel looked back, and he walked away, outside the Sunborn tower in the opposite direction to the one Luke had gone. He couldn’t come be Rachel’s friend. Rachel might like him, but she loved Luke. Nobody had ever loved Elliot, but he was really smart. He was smart enough to know the difference.

The one bright spot of the day was that Adam was sitting at another breakfast table with a broken nose. Elliot disapproved of violence, but obviously Adam had decided to sexually harass someone else, someone who was totally okay with violence. That was what you got for having wandering hands, Elliot thought with satisfaction. Not everybody was as kind and forbearing as he was. He beamed at Adam. Adam flinched away as if he were about to be hit again. Whoever had hit him, Elliot thought cruelly, it served Adam right.

I'm glad violence is ok this time but not any other time in the entire story. A bit hypocritical here Elliot

So the Elven Tavern was the hot new place to take a date. Elliot gave the matter deep thought, and then some more thought than it needed because he was very nervous. Finally he glanced across the library table at Serene, who was making a study chart like the babe she was, and mustered up the courage to ask: “Do you want to go to the Elven Tavern with me?” Serene looked up from her task, gray eyes like the dawn. “Absolutely,” she said. “What a good idea.” “Oh,” said Elliot, stunned by his good fortune. Maybe Serene had been trying to do things the human way, he thought, as he sometimes tried to do things the elven way. Maybe she had been waiting for him to ask her. “Luke could really do with some cheering up,” Serene continued. “Let me go fetch him.” “Oh,” said Elliot. And maybe it wasn’t Elliot she really wanted, and never had been. They were not a cheerful group at the Elven Tavern that evening.

Dale Wavechaser gave Elliot a thumbs-up for praising the Wavechasers. Elliot ignored this because he was embarrassed to be associated with Dale in history class: Dale was very bad at history.

“Can I speak now?” Luke asked. “It’s not so much of an answer to a question as a personal announcement.” Elliot glanced over at him. Luke looked a little pale under his tan. Elliot wondered if perhaps Luke needed to go to the infirmary and felt guilty about talking so much. People’s stupidity could always be corrected another time. “I’m—I like guys,” said Luke, staring at his desk. “Romantically.” Elliot put his hand up so fast he almost dislocated his arm. Captain Whiteleaf was staring and nodded, possibly on stunned autopilot. “Since when?” Elliot demanded. Luke put his hand back up. “Since always.” Elliot put his hand up in retaliation. “That’s absurd.” Luke put his hand up and waited for Captain Whiteleaf to nod and say apprehensively: “Er . . . Cadet Sunborn . . . is this going to be a question?” “Yes,” said Luke. “What is wrong with you? Not you, sir. Cadet Schafer, sir.” “I don’t understand your question, and I have one of my own,” said Elliot, putting his hand back up as a formality and not looking at Captain Whiteleaf. “If that’s true then why don’t I know?” Luke looked mulish about the face. “You do know because I just told you!” “Excuse me,” Dale Wavechaser said. “Excuse me, sir.” Everybody turned to look at him. He had apparently been waving his hand in the air for some time. He was very flushed. “Yes?” Captain Whiteleaf gazed upon Dale as a shipwreck survivor seeing rescue in view. “Me too, sir!” said Dale. “I like boys romantically too.” Captain Whiteleaf loo...

“People get to choose who to tell their secrets to,” said Elliot. “You know—people whom they trust and feel comfortable with. That’s all right. That’s fine. I understand that. Nobody’s owed anyone else’s secrets.”

Elliot was slow to learn, that was all: he always had been, well before he ever came to the Border camp, when he kept hoping that his dad would start liking him and kept doing everything wrong so his dad never did.

“I’m terrible at feelings, it’s like they’re knives, I don’t really know what to do with them and I end up throwing them with too much force,” said Elliot, advancing. “But I have strong views on having a more accepting society, and everyone getting to be who they really are, and so it’s excellent that you made your class announcement, and if anyone else had been insensitive about it I would have been extremely vexed and plotted vengeance.” He paused. “I don’t suppose anyone was insensitive about it later?” he asked hopefully.

“So,” said Elliot. “Is there a boy you like? Tell me.” Luke choked on air and spluttered. “Elliot, that’s inappropriate,” said Serene. “Luke has his maiden purity to think of. To be modest and discreet is to be much desired. Although I am not quite sure how it works when two gentlemen desire each other.” “Serene,” said Luke. “Presumably it is a very tactful courtship, and no doubt most chaste—”

“The fact that you’re not answering me makes me believe that there is a boy you like. You can’t fool me, because I’m extremely intelligent. Now tell me or I’ll keep pestering you to tell me.” “You’re supposed to be supportive of me!” said Luke. Serene nodded. “That’s what the pamphlets said. We studied them carefully.” Elliot’s pamphlets had been taken from him and used against him, and he couldn’t even be angry because this was more important. “I’m trying to be supportive of you!” he told Luke. “Then stop yelling at me!” said Luke. “I will stop yelling at you if you let me support you,” Elliot proposed. “Do we have a bargain?”

“If you wish to tell me, I will be happy to hear your secret,” said Serene. “I vow not to mock at you and never to tell anyone the object of your tender maidenly affections, not even if they torture me. A true gentleman’s heart is as sacred as a temple, and as easily crushed as a flower.” Elliot and Luke absorbed that in a brief moment of silence.

Elliot glanced at Serene, but she was looking to Elliot, clearly expecting him to make things right: not only because she thought men were the ones who talked about feelings, but because Elliot was the one making Luke so tense and unhappy. Luke had trusted Serene with his secret, and that had obviously gone well. It was Elliot messing everything up. It was Elliot who always did.

I fell bag that Elliot has such horrible self esteem. His worthless father and asshole kids

It was clear, from the elves and the council of war and Adam Sunborn, that Elliot needed to learn how to tact, both personally and professionally. Being more tactful was the only possible tactical decision.

if Luke liked guys, he didn’t like Serene, not in that way. Elliot had got it all wrong. Elliot might not have any real competition: Elliot might really, truly have a chance with her.

The next day was bright and clear. The sky was blue, trainees wandering over the grass between classes, luxuriously slow as the wisps of cloud moving across the sky, and Elliot was not in a love triangle.

“Hi. Hi, wait a minute. Hey, wait. Oi, Dale!” Dale Wavechaser turned around and looked startled to see Elliot bearing down on him. He opened his mouth to speak, but Elliot forestalled him: Elliot was on a mission. “I wanted to say,” said Elliot, speaking fast and fiddling with the strap of his bag. “I’m really sorry if I came off badly in class yesterday? I was just surprised. I think it was brave of you to tell everyone, and I totally support you.” “Oh,” said Dale. He smiled crookedly. “Cool.” “Also I like you,” said Elliot. “And I want to be friends. Good friends. Can we be friends?” “Uh . . . sure.” Dale’s smile got brighter. Elliot smiled back, and in case it would help tried to add charm to the smile, the endearing air he had used on the elven warriors and on the council of war last year. Oddly, it seemed to work.

“In my world there’s this beautiful thing called running water,” sighed Elliot. The boy looked at him as if he was crazy. “We have running water here too,” he said. “In rivers and streams. Where water runs.”

Another amusing moment

this was much worse than a bandit attack. The people fighting were all either in Border guard uniform or in the uniform of cadets. The people fighting were all human. It was chaos, even worse than battles usually were. Cadets were being cut down by adult guards, and protected by different guards. Elliot could not tell who was on which side, or why they were fighting. He saw people in the battle who looked as panicked and confused as he felt.

She walked out to the threshold of the library, and unrolled the parchment. It read: HAVE THAT WOMAN GIVE UP COMMAND OR WE COME TAKE IT. So that was what this was all about. Elliot thought of the whispers about Commander Woodsinger this summer, the captains no longer allowed on missions, the rising discontent. Commander Woodsinger had been the hero of the last war, but people’s memories were short, and there would always be another war. Someone did not want a woman in charge of the Border training camp. Someone had been willing to go beyond whispers and petty vandalism. Elliot wondered who had mounted the attack. Captain Whiteleaf was the only one whom he’d heard spoken of as a replacement for the commander, and Captain Whiteleaf would not have the nerve.

“When we saw the library roof catch fire . . .,” Serene began. Her tight grip on him made Elliot think that she might be shaking if she were not holding on so hard. He could see her violent distress: Serene always ignored how different human ways were from her own, right up until the point she could not ignore it any more. “You must have been furious.” “I thought you had been killed,” Serene breathed, and kissed him. They were kissing, they were finally kissing again, and this time Elliot was not too stunned to participate. He curled his fingers around her braid and drew her closer against him, kissed her and kissed her again. He kissed her until they were both breathless, then he whispered breathlessly against her mouth: “No. Nope, I’m awesome.” She kissed him again, pressing him against the threshold of the door. Her mouth was warm, searching, burning-sweet, and her body against his was lithe, strong, and urgent.

He gets the girl!

“I need some books full of elven lore,” said Elliot urgently. Bright-Eyes-Gladden-the-Hearts-of-Women gave him a very suspicious look. “What kind of elven lore?” Elliot gave up on subterfuge, clung to the counter, and said, “All right, you got me. I need some books full of specific elven instructions on how to please an elven lady.” Bright stared at Elliot, and Elliot wondered if he had perhaps misunderstood. “Sexually please her, I mean,” he clarified. “Very specific instructions, please. Do you know of a book like that?” Bright drew in a deep breath. “How dare you?” “The library is meant to be a place of learning, not of judgment,” said Elliot. “I suppose you think that just because I am unmarried and in employment I am no better than a hussy peddling pornographic literature!” “What?” Elliot said. “No. What?” “I’ll have you know, I am dedicated to my passion for the written word,” Bright raged. “And one day, my true elven knight will come, and she will understand my love of literature and why I felt called to promote said love among human children. Moreover, I will come pure to my marriage bed, as all true gentlemen should aspire to do!” Elliot took a moment to assimilate this new information. It was only a moment. “Okay, cool, good for you,” said Elliot. “But what if . . . just for instance. . . a guy didn’t aspire to come pure to his marriage bed? Like, if he was no true gentleman, but a hussy? Is there any advice for hussies in this library? I need advice for hussies....

Peter was actually sitting at a lunch table on his own, looking forlorn, which was sad for Peter but useful for Elliot.

“No! Wait, why do you ask?” Peter asked. “Is this about Luke Sunborn?” “Maybe,” Elliot said cunningly. “Would you go out with him if it was?” Peter looked like he was considering it. This was typical of Luke’s life, absolutely typical: now boys who didn’t like boys wanted to be Luke’s boyfriend. On the other hand, Peter was a lot smarter than Dale, and Elliot thought he could talk Luke around on the subject. “No,” Peter said at length. “I mean . . . well, I mean no.” “Why don’t you think it over,” Elliot suggested. “Luke has many fine qualities.” “I really don’t think . . .,” Peter said, and hesitated. “Did Luke say he liked me?” He sounded equal parts disturbed and flattered.

Peter’s pornographic literature turned out to be not very educational or instructive. The women in it were genuinely enjoying themselves, in Elliot’s opinion, about as much as the pictures and statues in the Elven Tavern were genuine elven warriors. Elliot wondered why people liked bad illusions so much more than reality.

By the way, what do you think of Peter?” Elliot asked. “To go out with, I mean?” “For me to go out with?” Luke asked, and looked badly startled. “I don’t even know who he is!” Elliot waved a hand. “He’s great. You’d like him!” Luke began to blush, which was mystifying until he muttered out: “I told you I like Dale Wavechaser.” “I know, I’ve taken that onboard too,” said Elliot. “You can go out with him whenever. I just thought you might like another option. Peter knows four languages and is probably going to be top in the class in mapmaking!”

Luke was a philistine who clearly cared more about hot bodies than brains. Elliot had proof of this: Luke had a crush on Dale Wavechaser. Probably intelligence appealed more to Serene. Elliot was going to have to hope so.

It was obscene, his camp becoming the backdrop for this horror. There was someone dead on the ground, facedown: Elliot could only be thankful. He did not want to see if it was someone he knew. There was a man in chainmail bearing down on him. “I come on a mission of peace,” said Elliot, and got backhanded with a chainmail fist. Elliot tasted blood and saw stars in a gray daytime sky. “Did I stutter?” Elliot asked, feeling his mouth fill with blood. “I said I come on a mission of peace, moron.” The chainmailed guy drew his sword. Elliot hated his life, especially when he saw two of the guys’ buddies closing in to help him slaughter an unarmed student. Elliot tensed, wondering if he should run toward the sound of fighting, where there might be assistance, or away. The chainmailed guy collapsed, spat blood, and dropped his sword: Luke had his own blade out of chainmailed guy’s back and in the chest of the second man before the group realized what was happening. In less than three seconds the three men after Elliot were dead.

Elliot tried not to be sick, and tried not to think of how Luke had been sick once, killing someone. Now Luke had been through a war and killed people easily, effortlessly, as if it was routine.

“Not that one,” Elliot said, and when Luke didn’t listen Elliot had no choice but to eel his way in between the two men and their blades. “He’s surrendering!” Luke was already swinging his sword: Elliot was very glad he trusted Luke to be fast enough to catch his own swing. As it was there was a nasty moment where Elliot felt Luke’s sword graze his throat and the other man’s swordpoint at his back.

Still making foolish decisions for a foolish pacifist idealogy in the midst of a battle

“If I die, the story gets told. So if you keep fighting, you maybe take the camp, maybe not, but everybody knows that your son is not your son, and he is disgraced and you are both a famous coward and the laughingstock of the otherlands. Or you were overpowered by the brave young heroes of the Border camp and came to realise that your doubts had been wrong and that Commander Woodsinger was a brave and inspiring leader. You stood your troops down, and you and your son declared your support for the commander,” said Elliot. “Which is it going to be?”

How does a young teenage boy keep getting away with stuff like this year after year

His friends always seemed to be fighting different battles than the ones Elliot was fighting, and Serene was always fighting on the war-training side.

A lot of the buildings had been torched, but there were tents set up around the Border camp. They found one and tumbled inside it, still kissing, kissing and kissing: Elliot did not want to let her go, not ever, and perhaps he would never have to. “I have struggled against my passions, and I can struggle no longer: they have me in an irresistible grasp,” said Serene. “Grasp away,” Elliot advised her. “A man cannot understand the force of a woman’s desire,” Serene continued. “I’ll give it a try,” said Elliot. “And I cannot—I do not offer you marriage,” Serene added, the words almost lost between their mouths, kissing and clinging. “You should send me away. You should preserve your virtue. I find I cannot help myself in the face of your charms and I fear if you do not spurn me from your door at once I will besmirch you utterly.”

War was over, at least for a time, and he was warm, his head on a soft pillow, tangled up in soft blankets with the only girl he had ever loved tangled up with him. She hovered above him, murmuring words that only meant, to him, that she did want him after all. Elliot could not help but smile, and he felt her smile blossom against his mouth in response to his. He curled his fingers around her long dark hair and tugged her down the last fraction of an inch toward him.

“Unhand me, you vile seducer, you virtue bandit. I feel sullied by your irresistible yet immoral touch!” Serene’s eyes widened and her grip went loose. “No, I didn’t mean it!” Elliot exclaimed hastily. “I was teasing. Maybe also role-playing a little bit? I’ll tell you all about role-playing. I read about it in a book.”

He had been wishing for love his whole life, and if he’d had just one wish that wish would have been her. He was not sure how it had happened, or why: but the wish granted, he had to prove he could deserve it. He did not know how to be grateful enough.

“This is my plan,” said Serene as they entered the lunchroom, and Elliot gazed at her with deep appreciation of her strategic mind. She steered him toward the table where Luke was sitting. “I will tell Luke of the newfound status of our relationship, for I wish to express that I am in no wise ashamed of you.” “Thank you, Serene, excellent decision!” “And then I will go get my nourishment and you two can have a longer conversation about feelings. I know boys like to gossip about girls and romance.” Elliot’s squawk of protest was cut off when Serene pushed him forcibly onto the bench opposite Luke and said: “Elliot and I are dating now. You have four minutes to gossip about it. Good-bye, blossom!” She pressed a firm kiss to Elliot’s horrified mouth and strode off. Elliot loved to watch her go, but he really hated her leaving. “We don’t have to gossip,” Elliot informed Luke. “Let’s be strong and silent. In a manly way. That would be awesome, right?”

“Luke, you have hardly eaten anything!” said Serene. “I’m not hungry,” said Luke. “Luke, please don’t develop an eating disorder,” Elliot begged. “We do not have any therapists in this world!” “What’s a therapist? I said I’m not hungry!” said Luke. Elliot paused. “Don’t eat any therapists. That’s not what they’re for.” “Then I don’t know why you brought them up,

I think Luke does have a crush on Elliot and looked about liking Dale

When one bestie starts dating and the other’s still single, conflict can occur. I read about this.” Serene nodded seriously. “That makes sense.” “Fortunately, I have a solution! You have to spend lots of time one on one with Luke and assure him of your continued platonic affection,” Elliot told her. “He just needs bro time.” Serene regarded him with eyes that shone with what Elliot thought was tenderness. She shook her head. “I would never have realized all that. Masculine intuition is a wonderful thing.” “I am pretty intuitive,” Elliot said, with beautiful simplicity. “And sensitive. And New Age.” Serene leaned in, the light of admiration still in her eyes, and kissed him.

One of Elliot’s dorm mates, Benjamin Rainfall, had died in the battle. Elliot remembered how he had always begged Elliot to blow out his candle, stop reading, and let him sleep. Elliot wished he had let him sleep now.

Elliot shrugged. “I guess she’s bad-tempered.” “Oh,” said Luke, with a small grin, always pleased when Elliot agreed with him. “So you were standing up for her because you two have a lot in common.” “That’s it,” said Elliot, and grinned back at him. “Stop wearing contraband,” said Luke, flipping Elliot’s hood over his hair. Elliot had barely seen Luke in three days, but possibly Luke had now had enough bro time and was ready to stop sulking.

Elliot thought about being on different sides, and those loyal to Commander Woodsinger and those loyal to Colonel Whiteleaf. In his books about magic lands, the evildoers had horns, or at least had the decency to wear outfits composed entirely of black leather. Sometimes there was one traitor on the good side, but he didn’t remember any stories about teams who wore the same uniform splitting up and turning against each other. Usually the traitor was banished, too. People did not have to learn how to live with each other again, after trust was broken between them. Elliot stood staring down the dark paths to the many cabins where the cadets slept. Every year, he thought, things got more complicated, and there were so many ways to lose.

That's the real world for you Elliot. You're growing up

What do you hold allegiance to?” Elliot frowned. “Well, Serene. And—” “Do you love your country?” “What, England?” asked Elliot. “Wow. Am I a poet in 1914?” “What,” said Commander Woodsinger. “What,” said Elliot. “The Borderlands,” the commander clarified. “I think I’m probably still British on my passport,” said Elliot. “I hoped that after your years of training, you would have come to think of the Borderlands as your home.” “It hasn’t been that long,” Elliot pointed out. “I’m only fifteen.”

“Your ‘irregularities’,” said Commander Woodsinger, a woman who could imply quote marks with devastating clarity, “could have led to your own death and that of others. That it turned out well does not mean that you are exempt from the rules, which are in place for your protection. And that of others.” “It could be the rules need to be changed.” “Or it could be there’s a reason I’m in charge, and not you,” said Commander Woodsinger. It was on the tip of Elliot’s tongue to snap that without their support, she wouldn’t be in charge: but the alternative had been much worse. This was the difference between making a bargain and winning a victory. The other side was not getting punished, and Elliot was not getting rewarded.

“These are the Borderlands,” said the commander. “This is a land of magic and mystery: this is our charge and our sworn duty to protect. This is a land to be loved and served, because nobody can understand it.”

He climbed up, to the top of the brief tower, and he gazed down at the vast tapestry of the Borderlands. Like green silk spread as far as the eye could see, the grey satin of mist and sea at the edges, embroidered with the delicate blue of rivers. Nobody can understand it, the commander had said, and the challenge echoed in Elliot’s bones, as perhaps the commander had wanted it to. A challenge was more familiar to him than love, and felt close to the same thing, as though one led to the other. He felt his heart beat to the double time of two words. Not yet.

Teaching was as nightmarish as Elliot had expected. “I hate children,” he announced at lunch after his first lesson, flopping down on the bench and banging his forehead against the table. Serene patted his back. “I know, sweetheart.” “I hate them all,” said Elliot. “I especially hate Cyril, who became overwhelmed by my, quote, harsh tone, unquote, and began to hyperventilate. But I also hate Daniel, who asks stupid questions, and Miriam, who is a little know-it-all, which would be fine if she knew it all, but let me tell you—she doesn’t!”

Sounds like Elliot is meeting himself