The Princess and the Blade

[Soran Nightblade]

"Thvoros," her voice called to him, the first he became aware of his existence.

Havitharon's consciousness trickled to him in brushes of skin and glimmers of metal. The world was just wisps of sensations and sounds. He could feel Tenara's blood spilling over him. There was no question that it was hers. He wondered if they were both lying on the ground, and if their attackers were still here somewhere.

"Try....let your de.....ses down a bit," someone was saying above them. He willed himself to look up at the speaker, but he had no vision to speak of. Just a sick, frantic emotion emanating from somewhere next to him. Was it the girl?

Thvoros...have to find Thvoros, her thoughts floated to him like they were resting nose to nose on a mattress, whispering secrets. She felt....panicked. Betrayed. He could almost smell the salt of her tears in his sinuses.

"You're safe, darling. This will help you. Don't let the fear win," Sinead was whispering to her, stroking the hair from her forehead. Havitharon could feel the shuddering weight of Sinead's power being firmly rebuffed by Tenele's self-defensive instincts.

*Tenara,* he spoke very softly. He didn't try to climb into her mind or stretch beyond the confines of the sword. It seemed that might scare her even worse. He was fairly sure now that the sword itself was where he was... what he was, at the moment. He could feel the rage and fear in her grip as she clutched him. The harsh emotions coupled with the powers warring through her seemed about to pull her limb from limb. He sent a careful gesture through their connection, like a feather-light hand brushing her arm. *I am here. I'm at your side.* He was talking to her not as Thvoros right now, but as the sword she was clutching.

[Emora Deen]

The voice washed over her, a caress against her soul. The tight feeling in her chest eased and her panicked breath slowed. She wanted to join the voice, wherever it was. Wanted to meld into the quiet realm it had drifted to, where there were no men to come crawling through windows, to cover her mouth in potions, or lock her up in the belly of a ship. But... she could not go where the voice was. So she clutched onto it, held it tightly in her hand.

[Soran Nightblade]

Her grip, along with the will to connect to him, helped bring Havitharon's senses a bit more into focus. He mentally slid a little closer to her in the dark void where their souls were brushing together. His hands laced over hers, over the spot on her chest where she was fighting Sinead's help like a malignant tumor. *This is to help you. Don't block it,* his phantom voice whispered. He very slowly began to ease her hands away from the spot they were protecting. His quiet voice was loose and untethered, like a kite with a slew of holes punched through it. *Still with me? It's time to let her in.*.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara felt strange. She felt solid, and yet she as if she'd drifted to a different place. Simultaneously in Sinead's arms and in Thvoros's. She heard his voice again, urging her to accept Sinead's help, felt him opening her up to it. Her fingers, such that they were in that place, curled over his, holding tight. *Don't leave me...* She hated the sound of her thoughts, all fear and need, but she did as he asked. She let her grandmother in.

[Soran Nightblade]

*I am here,* he reaffirmed, his presence like a warm breath across her forehead. *Hold on to me. I'll guide you.*. Havitharon helped, to the extent he could figure out how. His long phantom fingers slowly wove with hers, and he imagined he was weaving together that sirensong power of hers and tuning it, easing it back inside of the strong emotions that summoned it. Sinead's magic found new roads in amidst the construction. It didn't have the same songlike grace that he noticed in Tenara's powers, but the Queen's magic was strong, strict and efficient. The girl's torn flesh wove together, her bruised flesh cleansing itself of blood. The power even screened out some of the toxic hormones sustaining her adrenaline, hopefully reducing the impact on her emotional state.

[Emora Deen]

The pressure inside her lessened until she no longer felt as if she were splintering apart. The pain eased as Sinead finished her mending, and a calm came into her. It felt unnatural. She shouldn’t feel calm. She’d escaped Arken, and all that mess, only to find danger in the one place supposed to be safest in all the world. But, she did feel calm, and so she allowed the tension in her body to ease. Her white-knuckled grip on the sword edged a hair lighter.

Like her demi-god father after he used his power, Tenara was overcome with a sudden rush of bone-weariness and the strong desire to curl around the sword—around Thvoros—and sleep.

*Thank you…*

She wanted him to come back. To somehow drag him from the cruel confines of steel, into being next to her. She didn’t trust the world to let her sleep, and if she were sleeping she wanted him near...

[Soran Nightblade]

"Rest, dear one," Sinead said quietly as the girl calmed in her arms. She sighed, looking around the room. The horned being was gone, or her spell had faded. She tried casting it again through the room, but nothing glowed to life. He seemed to be completely missing. If he had something to do with this attack..." anger blossomed in her chest.

Havitharon wasn't sure what to do with her gratitude. He couldn't explain why he felt so focused on her right now. *...I am right here,* he repeated carefully. Was that supposed to make her feel better? It seemed an arrogant assumption, that his presence was a source of comfort, but he said it anyway. *You can sleep. I will defend you if necessary.* He was fairly sure now that it was the truth. He could bridge into her body, especially if she was unconscious. He hoped it wouldn't come to that, because it seemed like a power the queen might kill him for.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara nodded, but mostly in response to what the voice in her head said.

He would protect her. He had protected her—from cold and rain and poison masters. From drunks and bad decisions. From unseen threats slipping up to her bed in the middle of the night. She likely should have been concerned why a being who didn’t know her seemed intent on keeping her alive—unless it really was as simple as needing her to carry the sword. But at the moment, she didn’t care. He was the only one who seemed to be able to do what the other people who cared for her said they would—protect her.

She could figure out what the cost of that protection was later. When she wasn’t so bloody tired.

Tenara fell a sleep in her grandmother’s lap, her hand around her sword and her soul curling close to Havitharon.

[Soran Nightblade]

Havitharon focused on the world around them as she slept. He couldn't exactly see and interact, the way he had before. Even in his specter form, he'd been able to freely look around and move. Now, he was still, pressed to Tenara's body and shiftly slowly with the motion of each of her breaths. He could hear very accurately, and he could sense the general location of the objects around them by the sense of the air moving, but he couldn't see nor smell anything in this state.

So he monitored everything quietly while the maids shifted Tenara back to bed in a new room. They tried to set the sword aside, but Sinead suggested they leave it alone when her hands refused to release it. The candles were snuffed, guards were posted, and finally the sun slowly filtered in through the window, warming the bedsheets as it trickled across the bed.

Sinead finally came in with some maids when the sun was sitting higher in the sky. The queen sat beside Tenara and began pouring her favorite tea from a tray the maids set beside the bed. Havitharon borrowed some of Tenara's senses to explore the scent of the tea, and cracked one eye open to keep an eye on the queen. Rather than wake up Tenara, she sat back with her tea and opened the magical tome they'd stolen from the ship. He guessed she'd acquired it when they moved their belongings last night.

"Who is watching me right now?" she asked mildly. "Tenara, or her friendly ghost?"

Havitharon closed Tenele's eyes and retreated into his own mind. She'd figured him out, but he did not want to talk.

*Tenara?* he sought her out. *The queen is here.*

[Emora Deen]

Tenara roused at the sound of his gentle voice. She didn’t want to wake. She hadn’t slept deeply in so long. She felt warm and heavy and relaxed, so different from how she’d felt a short while ago.

But she couldn’t stay asleep forever, and there were important things to discover. Like if Thvoros could go home…

She felt a pang of disappointment at the idea. She wasn’t certain why. He didn’t want to be here. She didn’t like being tied to the sword. But now he was tethered to her, intertwined with her being. Separating from him felt…

Tenara opened her eyes, staring up at the patterned canopy on the bed. She sat slowly, running a hand over her face and into her hair to push it out of the way. “Is that raspberry black tea?”

[Soran Nightblade]

Sinead lowered the book and smiled. "Shall I pour you a cup?" She reached down and filled the second teacup on the tray, and offered it to her like it was a warm hug.

"I am deeply sorry for the disturbance in your room last night. In my haste to establish the alarms for Thvoros's movement, I failed to notice that I overwrote the ones that typically secure this level of the palace. They appeared to be skilled thieves; they probably noticed the change in security, and took advantage of it."

She looked down at the sword at her side. "Tenara, I must be frank. Last night, your creature Thvoros clearly possessed the body of one of those men. I saw him attack you. Possession is an extremely dangerous ability to have. I do not trust him."

[Emora Deen]

Tenara finally released the sword and took the cup with both hands. She took a sip, letting Sinead's words seep into her as thoroughly as the warmth of the tea on her nose. "He stopped the guy from throwing a knife at me," she said. She wasn't sure how to explain to her grandmother how she knew—believed—he didn't mean her any harm. "I don't think it was Thvoros in control..." The moment was a blur, but she distinctly remembered the man calling his friend's name before he lunged.

She sighed. "I know... I know it seems like I'm crazy. Like I'm being foolish. I know what it sounds like, trust me. He was in my head, grandma. When you were trying to heal me. He was in my head and he... helped me."

[Soran Nightblade]

Something about that last point seemed to get Sinead's attention. "He helped you during my healing? How? What did it feel like?"

[Emora Deen]

Tenara shifted uncomfortably. "Like... I was in one place and another at the same time. Like I was in my body, but with him someplace else, or that we were side-by-side. I felt his hands... He talked to me. Reassured me. Calmed me. I think it was him... I don't know who else it would have been."

[Soran Nightblade]

Sinead brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear thoughtfully. "Your power had all rallied at once, and was blocking me out. At that time, I could feel something weaving into your magic and easing it open again for me. If that was him, then I may have my assumptions about your connection all wrong. What if..." she was musing to herself now, a magic geek trying out a fascinating new theory. "So far, we've been making the assumption that he was summoned as a living being, but his existence fades without the sacrifice of your lifeblood. Almost like a vampire. A summoned creature requires a massive amount of power to stabilize its existence in a world where it doesn't belong, or its presence will collapse. It was reasonable to assume your blood is sustaining him here, and you've been 'feeding' him, to keep him as tangible as you can afford."

She shook her head. "But if that were his real nature, the black power would be with him even now. That sword would be glowing red right now. Instead, his core entity seems to be something very different. Something else is stabilizing his existence."

Havitharon suppressed the instinct to growl. He had no idea what the woman was getting at.