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It was a grey sort of day, but that was nothing special or out of the ordinary. Most days were like that in the Stormborn lands, except for the hot season, which was actually more of the same as far as cloud cover, it was just hot and humid as well as grey, and it rained less. A little less. Honning was glad that it wasn't raining now. It was a long walk from her home to her destination. She hoped she wouldn't become lost along the way, since she had not been there before and navigation was really not her strongest suit.

Fortunately, Blomkvist had anticipated that possibility and was waiting outside his den, looking for all the world as if it was exactly where he wanted to be, and would have spent his entire day there had she not happened by, even though he had told her that he'd heard a rumour she would want to hear, but he couldn't share with her in public, and then invited her to come to his den to hear it. Obviously it could be a set-up, but Honning didn't think it was. Her place in the pride granted her a certain amount of protection from that sort of thing, and she really didn't think Blomkvist was the least interested in her anyway.

"There you are," he said. "Please come in before it starts to rain and we both end up soaked."

She accepted his invitation to come inside and seated herself before looking around. She had never been inside his home before, although they had spoken in the past. Blomkvist kept an acceptably neat home, for a bachelor, and Honning wasn't usually fussy about that sort of thing in others' homes as long as her own place was clean and uncluttered.

"Thank you," she said automatically. "I have been wondering about this rumour you spoke of since you first mentioned it."

Blomkvist nodded as if he had expected this. The smile that touched his mouth confirmed that he was pleased by her eagerness and curiosity. That was no surprise to Honning. Like all gossips, Blomkvist liked to have others eager to hear what he had to say. It made him feel important, or something she supposed. Honning wasn't usually much of a gossip, but she could understand the appeal. It was sort of empowering to know something someone else didn't.

"Of course you have. That's only natural, really. I hope you'll forgive me for being enigmatic about it, but it is interesting enough to warrant a degree of mystery."

Blomkvist watched Honning's face and could not figure out why she seemed to be growing irritated. He might have been drawing things out a bit, and perhaps he put her to a bit of extra effort to learn what he had to tell her, but he didn't think he had done either one of those things to excess, and certainly not to a point where she should be anything but intrigued. He didn't realize that she actually found his speech patterns and word choice annoying, like he was trying to be a bard or a lawspeaker, which were professions she found questionable, at best, for a male to take up.

"Well, you've certainly reached your degree of mystery, so I would like to hear what it is you wanted to tell me." Honning was still sitting politely, but her tail was twitching impatiently and her ears had flicked back in a clear warning that she was losing patience. "You made it sound as if this was not just interesting, but important."

Now Blomkvist frowned, his joy in knowing something new and important diminished by Honning's refusal to play by his unspoken rules of gossip. Yes, he had a flowery way of speaking that he'd gotten from his parents - may they forever raid at the stormlords' sides - but that didn't mean that Blomkvist himself wasn't a formidable fighter at need. Well, maybe not formidable, but he was good enough to pull his own weight on a viking, despite what people might say.

"It could certainly be important to you and your family." Actually, it was more likely to be important to Honning's family than it was likely to be important to Honning herself. She tended to keep out of pridal affairs for the most part.

Honning stared at him with a flat, unamused expression that encouraged him to go on while somehow looking as discouraging as possible. She wasn't even aware she was doing it, which struck Blomkvist as deeply unfair. He had never mastered the art of the flat stare.

"It seems as if Captain Ruzanski is going to challange Njal for leadership of the pride."

Honning's eyes widened and her jaw dropped just a little. The captain hadn't been back for very long. That seemed like quite a leap to go from returning hero to warlord. Unless he was hoping to use his hero status to garner support for his rule. She did not quite see what this had to do with her or her family though.

"Well, that would be very interesting if it were true, but how do I know it is? And, for that matter, I don't see how you think this could have any sort of effect on me and mine. I'm not related to Njal, or even friends with any of his cubs."

Blomkvist shook his head, making it very clear he was disappointed in her ability to reason. He couldn't decide, at first, whether he ought to share his reasoning with her. It wasn't as if he found the girl particularly intimidating, even irritated. But he didn't want her to get the mistaken impression that he had been wrong in insisting on the importance of his news.

"You know I wouldn't say something I wasn't completely certain about," he began. And he was completely certain that he'd heard a rumour. He wasn't certain if it was true, but he had heard the rumour. "And I insisted on the secrecy because I also heard that the captain had his eye on a lovely golden lioness. Now who do you think that might be?"

Honning shook her head. "It can't be me. He's never spoken to me. As far as I know, he's never even looked at me."

"That doesn't mean he can't still be attracted to you. You're young, attractive, not unintelligent. You're related to Thorgrim and Erling, which counts for something in this pride. Plus, how many golden lions does the pride have?"

Honning was still shaking her head, but she didn't seem to be doing so in a negative way. More in astonishment. Blomkvist could understand that. It was a pretty big deal. Particularly if the captain challenged Njal and won.

"You could be consort to the next warlord. Think about that on your way home," he told her with a sly grin.

The lioness took the hint and said her farewells. That had been news worth coming all this way to hear, and not the sort of thing that ought to be discussed in public. She found it hard to believe, but whether or not it was the truth it was intriguing.

Word Count: 1,201