The Princess and the Blade

[Soran Nightblade]

Havitharon shuddered. Her power laved over him like a dozen mouths, pulling at his focus. On the one hand, his newly returned body cried out for the sensation. On the other, he remembered how disturbing it was to be so far out of control. He'd survived his whole life by rejecting these types of sensations, by staying in control, by avoiding contact. Those habits returned to him despite every instinct otherwise. He managed to stand up and take a step away from her. The blue flames were starting to sear him for real now. "Tenara," he ground out. He cautiously extended his thoughts toward her mind, but came up against a wall. "Pick up the sword!"

[Emora Deen]

Tenara’s wild gaze darted around the clearing. She grasped at her chest, at her dress.

“…the sword.”

She looked back at Thvoros and grabbed the sword out of the crumbled heap of a bench.

[Soran Nightblade]

Sure enough, when she touched the sword, he could feel the connection solidify. He tried again, using the weapon like a ladder to get access to her. If what that damn blacksmith said was true, then there was some connection between him, the sword, and controlling her powers. He reached down for the flames licking over his body, and closed his hands over them. They writhed like eels as he tried to control them. It hurt, like grabbing a saw mid-cut, but the flames stayed where he held them.

He squeezed, hard, and pushed them toward the sword, as if that might somehow make them go back into her. They didn't, but they did coil around the metal where he forced them, imbuing it with a blue glow.

[Emora Deen]

She focused on calming her racing heart, and finding the feeling she’d felt when first bringing him out of the sword. The pressure in her eased a little, and she tore her eyes from him to the blade, watching it glow with her power.

The pressure eased more, until the hum of pleasant bliss smoothed over the rough edges of her power. She relaxed, the panicked rise and fall of her chest slowing.

The magic flickered away, and she slumped across the broken bench.

[Soran Nightblade]

The energy at the other end of the connect suddenly went silent. Havitharon put a hand to his chest, heaving deep breaths. "Tenara," he said, kneeling over her. What the heck just happened? He couldn't tell if she was breathing. The outsider reached for the collapsed woman's shoulders.

"Stop right there." The icy command came from the woman at the other end of the courtyard. Her blue gown flowed around her like a threatening sea creature as she marched toward them. A small army of guards flooded in behind her. "Move away from the girl and the sword. Slowly."

Havitharon straightened and turned to face the queen.

"I suppose you are Thvoros? What were you doing to my granddaughter, just now?"

He offered her nothing. This female was a threat, and now, she could see him. It would be safer to remain silent than to risk provoking her. There was no answer he could think of that wouldn't make his problems bigger.

"You will answer the Queen!" declared one of the guards.

He was silent. He cast a glance back at Tenara, still unsure if she was okay.

"Walk this way. Now."

He did not want to be anywhere near the matriarch. He took a few grudging steps, and stopped.

A burst of magic came from behind him, hurling him forward onto his knees. "Hands behind your head," a guard commanded.

He glowered at Sinead. "I am not yours to command," he said darkly. His posture was tense, ready to fight.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara’s head swam, the world a blur of color. Sound muffled and garbled in her ears. A flash of light flared and her dizzy gaze swept up to it. Was that her? Was she so out of control that she couldn’t even be present in her power?

She lifted her head. There were people in the clearing with them. She couldn’t make them out, so she blinked her eyes until she noticed Thvoros on his knees and Ighten guards closing in on him.

“W-wait,” she murmured, and pushed off the bench, trying to stand. She managed to get to her feet and take a few steps towards Thvoros, waving her hands out towards the guards and, as the world cleared, her grandmother. “Wait.”

[Soran Nightblade]

Now that Havitharon was safely on the ground, several Queen's Maidens rushed to Tenara's side as she moved. They supported her caringly from either side. One, a healer, was already actively scanning her to assess her injuries.

"Lady Tenara, are you hurt?" the other asked her.

Sinead's expression was pure cold, but she held her hand up to pause her men's work in securing the alien. She looked at Tenara expectantly.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara tried not to shrink under the expectant look. She felt like a child who needed to explained a broken vase.

“Turns out I can only get out of being bound to the sword by practicing my magic…” she waved her hands towards Thvoros, doing a poor excuse of a bow as the Maidens steadied her. “Ta-da.”

[Soran Nightblade]

The queen couldn't help but be slightly amused. "If you wish to practice your magic, I will help you, sweet one." She frowned at the fresh scar on the girl's arm. "But I specifically instructed you not to use more blood magic."

[Emora Deen]

Tenara tucked her hand in the folds of her dress. She shifted uncomfortably under her grandmother’s disappointed frown. She wasn’t certain she wanted to admit before the gaggle of guards and Queen’s Maidens that her magic seemed only accessible to her through self-harm.

“I thought it would be easier to work things out with Thvoros if you could see him,” she said, but that wasn’t the truth. The truth was she didn’t like not seeing him. She didn’t like him being bound within the confines of steel—a prisoner in a body forced onto him by a deranged sorcerer with ill intent.

Again, Tenara wondered if her desire to help Thvoros—to make him comfortable—was her own good-natured heart, or her connection to the sword.

[Soran Nightblade]

Sinead shook her head at the girl's words, but she did turn and look at Thvoros properly for the first time. Just as Tenara had described, he didn't look like any creature from their world. The horns might have resembled a demon's, but that was as far as she could draw the comparison. Moreover, those golden eyes swallowed in black made him look fiercely alien, and his facial expression was extremely difficult to read.

"Can you hear me, then?"

Havitharon scowled at the queen. After a long pause, he said, "I can."

Sinead crossed her arms. "Answer my questions honestly, and you will have nothing to fear from me. Lie, and I will know it."

"I do not fear you."

Sinead's tone sharpened. "Perhaps you should. Your name is Thvoros?"

His lip curled in the beginnings of a snarl. "My name is not your concern."

"You are a guest under my roof, and my granddaughter apparently maintains your unsightly bond with her own lifeblood. I may demand anything of you I please."

The words set off alarm bells in his mind. He glanced at Tenara, remembering the power she had just used on him... For him. For a grim second, he felt torn between gratitude and proud fury. He couldn't afford to meekly assent to this Queen's command. There was no telling what she would want of him. He stiffened, every muscle gearing up for a fight. "Guests are not normally attacked in their sleep. I owe you nothing, and I will give you nothing," he hissed.

Sinead frowned at him and struck out a hand. A wall of magic forced him down to his knees, hard, against the marble tile.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara's eyes widened as her grandmother's magic struck Thvoros and sent him to his knees. She slid in between him and Sinead, holding up a hand. "Grandmother, please. Don't hurt him." I only just made him whole... "He's extremely ornery, but I don't think he means any harm." She twisted so she could see Thvoros. "Just tell her your name is Thvoros. It will be fine. She just wants honesty. It's just a name."

[Soran Nightblade]

The alien just snarled, raging against the spell. It only held him in place tighter the more he struggled. "Fine," he snorted. "I'm Thvoros."

The spell around him pressed in harder, strangling him. Sinead's eyes lit white with anger. "Your true name, creature."

The alien's expression was no longer difficult to read. Loathing poured off of him as he glared up at them both, struggling for breath. "Havitharon... Ruthe."

[Emora Deen]

Tenara cocked her head, her brow furrowing. She shifted uneasily on her feet. Havitharon... She appraised him, trying to understand the strange hurt she felt by his lie. It was just a name. She had given him hers—she had omitted that she was Princess Tenara Dracul-Hajaris, but she had told him her name. Tenara. She'd gone a week with the being, calling him Thvoros. Speaking his name with ease and confidence, and all the while it had been a lie. She felt like a fool. She wondered what Thvoros meant, or if he'd been laughing at her the entire time behind his expressionless eyes.

And if he had lied to her about something as innocent as a name... what else would he lie about?

She took a slow step back from Thvo—Havitharon, back towards her grandmother.

[Soran Nightblade]

The pressure around his throat eased slightly, allowing him to speak, but did not release him entirely.

Sinead raised a hand, and two of her queen's maidens approached from either side of the hallway, swift and strong as they were trained to be. The two women each took hold of one of Havitharon's shoulders. He shoved into one of them fiercely, knocking her over, and went to shake the other's grip. If not for Sinead's magic locking his legs under him, he would have overpowered them within moments. Instead, after a moment's wrestling match, he was on his back, snarling, with each arm pinned to the ground.

"Enough. If you want your freedom here, you will do exactly as I, and my maidens, tell you," Sinead ordered.

The outsider went completely still. His sudden silence was unnerving, like someone had thrown a switch and activated an entirely different personality behind his gold eyes.

"You will answer my questions, you will not injure anyone within the castle walls, and you will not come within six feet of Tenara. Am I understood?" the queen demanded again.

He looked at her unreadably. "You are understood." In comparison with the being Tenara had spent the last few days with, he sounded flat and cold. Like a completely different person.

"Tenara," Sinead said. "There are several tests I'd like to run on you both, as well as the sword. I would personally prefer Mr. Ruthe be placed in restraints until we know more about him, but I will defer to your judgment. How shall we proceed?"