Disclaimer: I don't own and never will.

AN: This particular idea came to me after playing a LOT of Kingdoms of Amular, the Reckoning (a much underrated game)

"Wake up!"

Ruhnir Wesnon sat up with a jolt as he was suddenly woken by a dark figure kneeling over him. Heart pounding, he suddenly started scrabbling away, when the figure raised a finger to her lips.

"Shhh," she hissed, before looking around at his sleeping comrades. "You don't want to go to war, right?"

Ruhnir nodded frantically and the woman smiled. (Girl really, he amended. She was a young Dokkalfar girl and he was pretty sure he recognised her. Someone with a double-barrelled name or something?)

"Good. I thought so. Well I don't want to be a boring old quartermaster back in Rathir. I want to see the enemy, stand face to face with the Tuatha with a spear in my hand and the hope of eternal glory!" he stared at her as though she was crazy. Frankly he had no idea why someone would willingly charge off like that. Fortunately, it was too dark for her to see his expression and she pressed on. "Can you imagine it? The glory, the excitement, the thrill? I haven't gotten this far only to be thwarted by this!"

"Thwarted by what?" he asked and the girl sighed.

Thwarted by my family of course! I bribed my way onto the conscription lists, despite my parents meddling. I'm not letting them stop me now! And all I need is your help."

Ruhnir waited for a moment. The girl was clearly from the upper city. Wealthy, trained in the art of persuasion and raised no doubt on tales of heroism. And to get this far suggested that she had a plan, probably a better one than his own one of deserting before they sailed.

"What do you have in mind?" he asked and the girl appeared to smile. (It was hard to tell in what little light there was)

"We need to swop places. You climb into my sleeping tent and I slip into your sleeping mat and in the morning, I'm marched onto the ships and you stay behind. That's all there is to it. The sergeants won't care, they'll just want loading to be completed as fast as possible and nobody wants to aggravate them by pointing out that I'm not you," he sat there in silence for a moment. It was true that loading was a hurried affair, but that be all there was to it?

"Look, you can keep the jewels and the gold and everything in my pack. I don't care for them. I want excitement, adventure, a chance to see the world and earn my glory. Just…trust me, it'll work."

"Trust you?" he asked with a frown. "If we get caught, I'm going to get stuck doing all the crappy jobs. The sergeants are going to have me at the front of every battle going, digging every latrine and cleaning away every bit of crap!"

"They won't notice! You've seen how they are when recruits leave, it's a rushed mess! And," she leaned forward slightly. "I'll bribe them if I have to! My parents made sure that I stayed here, but I won't let them stop me!"

"And what do you think your parents will do if you succeed? They'll switch their attention to the person you swopped places with!" he argued back. "And where exactly are you going to hide your bribe anyway? Where are you getting the money?"

"They won't do anything. Anything overt would tell the other houses that the Wyvyrn-Gifre's tried to avoid their duty," she said with a snort of contempt.

"But…that's EXACTLY what ALL the higher class families do!" he protested and the girl giggled.

"Yes! They're such hypocrites, but as long as no one openly shows that they're avoiding the front, it's fine. Once I'm there, they wouldn't dare risk it," she smirked. "They'll proudly tell everyone about their nobly heroic daughter fighting the Tuatha masses, protecting Rathir and the Dokkalfar people from extinction. As for my bribe," she paused and pulled a coin purse out from between her breasts. "This holds enough coin to keep them from looking too carefully. Which they won't. Especially when I'm wearing a full helmet covering everything."

Ruhir stared, slowly letting his mind play through what the girl had said to him. As it stood, he was probably going to end up on the frontline with or without taking the crazy girl up on her offer. And deserting was certainly something he'd rather avoid if he was honest with himself.

"You have a deal," he said, shaking the girl's hand and he slipped out of his bedsheet, before pausing. "But will my armour fit you? It's not going to work if your armour leaves everything on show?"

"It's just standard adjustable armour," she replied as she settled into his former bedsheets. "It'll fit, or at least be easily adjusted. They won't notice a thing. Besides, we're very similar in size. It shouldn't be a problem."

The girl was right. They were similar sizes. And if it failed…well he could always go ahead with his original plan anyway. Silently nodding, he slipped out of the tent.

"My tent's over there," she hissed, pointing in the direction of her tent. Or rather former tent he supposed. "How else were you planning on getting there?"

"I see," he whispered back and with practised ease, he slipped across the space between the two into her former bedsheets.

And that is the true story of how Maiwen Wyvyrn-Gifre began her military career in earnest. Not through honourable family conduct, but bribery, deviousness and pure determination.