The Princess and the Blade

[Soran Nightblade]

It took a moment for the vampire to break out of his trancelike anger. Finally her voice registered, and he dropped Havitharon like a forgotten toy on the cobblestones. His claws shrank back to normal fingers as he spun to catch her. "Tenara," he breathed, drawing her up in gentle arms. He looked at her in confusion and tried to imagine what had happened to her. The blood she was covered in didn't seem to match the wounds he could see on her skin. Some of her cuts seemed to be changing shape right in front of his eyes. He cradled her head, his fingers cool against her neck and scalp. "I've got you. It will be ok now. It's ok," he murmured as he held his child close.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara almost broke into sobs when he caught her. She knew her father well enough to know when he was too deep into his monster, nothing short of a strike from a god would snap him out of it, but he had. He'd stopped. She felt safe. For the first time in so many long days she felt completely safe in his arms. She didn't want to move. Didn't want to leave that safety now that she'd found it but she needed to help Thvoros.

She lifted her trembling hands, watching as the wounds on her skin turned into iridescent scars again. The sword was here. The sword.

"Thvoros," she said, squirming to try and get out of her father's grasp. "I need to help him."

[Soran Nightblade]

Havitharon managed to kneel, holding his working arm tightly across his stomach. Shit... They hadn't been kidding when they told him he was crazy. The girl's father was monstrous in a fight. He frowned down at the punctures in his shoulder and stomach. At least they'd found him.

Vlad eased back a bit, not wanting to hold her too tightly and hurt her. "Thvoros," he imitated the word, still not quite catching up with what she'd said. He looked back at the horned being who was clutching his wounds and glaring at him a few feet away. "That one? That idiot was bragging about what he'd done to you all around the city. He even had your hair..." He trusted his daughter, but she had some of her mother's caring nature, and he had no intention of being merciful to her kidnapper.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara stiffened at the mention of her hair, remembering the man from the bar. Thvoros must have taken some for himself. Had he intended to go off on his own to lure her father out the whole time? He'd just stayed with her until she found somewhere safe...

"He was trying to get your attention," she said. "Please. He's hurt. I can help him." I think.

[Soran Nightblade]

Vlad frowned, but eased her back on balance. "Alright, Snack. What do you need me to do," he asked, now watching the horned stranger with a mix of skepticism and curiosity.

[Emora Deen]

"I need that sword," she said, pointing to the wrapped up blade that had gotten knocked down along the wall in their fight. She took a cautious step forward and sank down in front of Thvoros, looking him in his gold eyes. "Thank you... you foolish... whatever you are." She reached out and cupped his face in her hand, giving him a weary smile. "But please don't wander too far away with that sword again... You and I are stuck together, whether we like it or not."

[Soran Nightblade]

Havitharon stared at her and tried to piece together the meaning of her words. His focus was buzzing more than he liked. "Those wounds..." he coughed. Was this because he'd left her?

Vlad kept a sharp eye on them both as he stood and retrieved the sword from its place in the alley. "Here," he offered it to Tenara.

[Emora Deen]

"Thank you, Daddy, " she said, taking the sword in her hands. As she unwrapped it, she said, "Seems there are consequences if either of us get too far away from this stupid thing. You'll disappear and I'll... well, bleed to death." She looked at the sword, and then drug her hand across the blade. She winced, sucking in a sharp breath before clenching her teeth to keep the pained sound from leaving her mouth. Blood ran from the wound, and she smeared it along the blade. Back and forth until the entire thing was painted crimson and blue hellfire danced along it.

She felt the pleasurable rush of her magic and was thankful for her clenched jaw because she wanted her father to hear none of that. Instead, she focused her gaze on Thvoros, and let her power wash out of her. The wound on her hand sealed shut, like all the others, but she held onto the feeling—the feeling of pleasure and power coursing through her like a blissful drug. She might have held it longer, might have tried to see just exactly what she could do with it, if she wasn't half-starved, half-dead, and hadn't bled nearly the entire time she searched for him. She hadn't the strength to hold it any longer than she did, and when the magic fizzled out, she collapsed forward.

[Soran Nightblade]

"Wait, Tenara, wait- ngh," Havitharon wasn't sure why she was trying to cut herself, but he was even less prepared for the sensation that came next. His injured flesh was joining itself back together. It was similar to the effect of Elpis salve, searing and crawling through him. At the same time, it was like wet heat was caressing him, inside and out, everywhere he could and couldn't touch. He doubled over, and this time not from pain. He shot a panicked look up at Tenara. The expression he found on her face did nothing to cool the fire inside him. He parted his lips, unsure if he was about to ask her to stop or beg her to keep going. He shivered and prayed the feeling would finish before he started moaning in the middle of the street.

His prayer came true a moment later, when the girl sank toward him. He leaned up and caught her weight against his, his body still trying to decide if it wanted to moan or scream. They both sat pitched together like a pair of dead logs.

"Tenara," Vladimir Dracul said, crouching next to her. The vampire hadn't interfered, knowing better than to step into a ritual he obviously didn't understand, but he wasn't happy either. He glowered at Havitharon. "What did she do?"

Havi forced his mind alert. "She healed me before I could stop her."

"Who the fuck are you?"

"...Thvoros."

"Don't lie to me. You'll regret it."

Havitharon appraised his words thoughtfully. "Noted."

Vlad sighed, but had more important things to worry about than a name right now. He rose and scooped his daughter into his arms. There was no way he could teleport her across the sea in this condition. And he wasn't sure yet why it was so important to be near this alien-looking man. "You have a place you're staying?"

"We do."

"Lead."

Fifteen minutes later, the kindly innkeeper opened her door cautiously for her returned guests. She looked from Havitharon and Tenara's bloody clothes, and then up at the vampire, and sighed. "I suppose I have a second broom," she sighed, and stepped aside for them to enter.

[Emora Deen]

When Tenara opened her eyes next, she was staring up at a wood ceiling. A pillow of softness pressed against her back and the room was full of warmth. It might have been blissfully comfortable if not for the fact she felt as if a carriage had run her over. She pushed to sit up, her arms trembling with the effort. Once she was upright, she dragged a hand across her face, wincing as she touched a scrape on her cheek where that stupid bastard of a man had tackled her to the ground. Though, it had inadvertently led her to...

Her eyes brightened. She lifted her gaze to the room, searching it for Thvoros or her father.

[Soran Nightblade]

Gentle hands squeezed her shoulders as she attempted to sit up. "Easy. Take it slow." Her father's voice. "You've been asleep most of the day. It's nearly dusk." He released her and brushed a hand along her unwounded cheek. "You're safe. I'm sorry it took me so long to find you."

[Emora Deen]

Seeing him drove it home. He was here. Thvoros had found him. She was safe.

Part of her hadn’t believed she’d find him, or that she would ever make it home. And when that man had grabbed her—had ignored all the blood on her and the panic in her eyes, and decided to take of her what she had offered and Thvoros denied—she’d known she was dead.

Tenara’s lip quivered before she buried her face in her hands and let all her fear and anxiety and pain pour out in great heaving sobs.

[Soran Nightblade]

"Tenara," Vlad soothed, easing her into his arms. The vampire had never been good with tears, especially his daughter's. Very few beings in the world would describe his presence as gentle or comforting. But he knew how to be possessive, and protective, and wrathful, and he suspected his daughter would prefer him that way at the moment, so he didn't try to be anything else.

"I have you," he snarled quietly, holding her tight while she sobbed.

[Emora Deen]

"I'm sorry," she said through hiccups of air. "I shouldn't have left the palace..." She clung to him, afraid to see the disappointment in his eyes—to see the anger and agreement that might be there.

None of this would have happened if she'd never gone to visit Rami. If she'd never met him and enjoyed his company. If she hadn't been so jealous of the love her parents had for each other, or so afraid she'd never have the opportunity to find it herself. Or if she hadn't been so embarrassed at her inability to convince the man her aunt paid to keep her company to bed her.

If she hadn't visited Rami...

Tenara's sobs quieted. She hadn't stopped to think of it until now. She'd been so focused on trying to survive, she hadn't thought to ask how the men who'd taken her found her in Rami's room. How had they known to look there when only Rami and Amor knew the Princess of Hajara was the girl in the black wig who visited the Indigo House.

[Soran Nightblade]

Vlad loosened his grip enough to pull back and meet her eyes. He couldn't imagine what the girl was thinking. Both he and her mother thought so much that it made his head hurt trying to keep up. "Snack, if leaving the palace is what you want, I won't stop you. Your mother, Papa, and I each need our freedom, and we understand it. But if we're going to keep you safe, we need to know your plans when you go out. We had no leads to follow when you disappeared."

His voice darkened. There was anger in his expression, but not at her. His fury was just a drawn bow, and he hadn't decided who to aim it at yet. "No one stepped forward to make a demand of us, either." He looked at her, but didn't say it. It was obvious what that meant. She hadn't been taken for ransom, which meant they hadn't intended to return her at all. Even the vampire could tell it was too soon to ask her what they'd done to her. The evidence of abuse was on every inch of her body when he'd cleaned and treated her last night.

"You don't need to tell me yet if you're not ready. Just tell me who." His gentle voice clashed with the wrath in his eyes.