The Princess and the Blade

[Emora Deen]

Tenara looked torn. She rubbed her arm, thinking about her choices. Before, she would have certainly objected to him being in restraints. But, that was when he was Thvoros, and now he was Havitharon, and she wasn't certain exactly who he was. Not that she had known who Thvoros had been either... And the way he'd flung the one Queen's Maiden...

"That's probably for the best," she said, her voice sounding strained. "Restrained... but not hurt."

[Soran Nightblade]

Havitharon's eyes darted to Tenara's. For just a fraction of a second, the shock showed. Then it was gone, buried in black ice. He let out a dry, angry sound that didn't quite pass for a laugh. "Whether you damage me or not, I'll be no use to you," he told Sinead. "I'll carve out and eat my own guts before I Stud for any of you."

[Emora Deen]

Tenara and most every woman stiffened at his comment, passing confused looks between each other. She felt an uneasy queasiness, stepping forward until she stood over him. "I don't think you have any worries of that. No one's going to be... studding you." The urge to comfort him was a heavy weight in her chest, and yet she reminded herself that she didn't know him. He'd been conjured by an evil sorcerer for something awful, and he might be awful. "All we want is to find a way out of this, for both of us. Let her run her tests. Let us get answers, and then you can go home. Back to wherever you came from, where you can't hurt anyone."

[Soran Nightblade]

Havitharon lay still, staring dumbly up at Tenara. Was she serious? Had he really misread what the Queen was talking about? No, but she'd certainly said...

"My granddaughter's words are true. Stand, and place your hands behind your back, Mr. Ruthe."

He brought his legs under him and rose slowly, doing as she commanded. He didn't have a choice, after all. Was it true that they wanted to send him home? They had one thing wrong, though. He absolutely could hurt people back home, and did so all the time. But that didn't feel like the hill he wanted to die on at the moment.

One of Sinead's maidens latched a pair of plain metal manacles to his wrists. He drew a slow breath and allowed the contact without fighting this time.

"I'm glad we understand each other," Sinead said. "Please wait for me in my study. I'll be there shortly. Tenara, you can show him the way. Vera, Shina, follow them, but do not touch him unless he does something to deserve it."

[Emora Deen]

Tenara went back to the cracked stone bench and lifted the sword. "Alright, let's go." She walked ahead of Havitharon, a strange thing to do from a tactical standpoint—her back to him. She walked further than the six-foot distance Sinead had requested, and wove her way through the gardens, into the palace, through the many corridors and steps, until they came to a gilded pair of doors. She let herself into the familiar, opulent room. Part library, part laboratory, it was full of books, tables with vials and other potion-making equipment.

There were arm chairs and a small table in a sitting area by the a wall of windows. Tenara turned once she was inside. "Vera, Shina... will you wait outside the room please?" She twitched the hand that held the sword. "I've got him."

[Soran Nightblade]

The two women offered Tenara a half-bow, and stepped outside the door. Knowing how queen's maidens were trained, being on the other side of the wall would not stop them from monitoring what was going on inside in other ways.

After the latched clacked shut, it left the two standing in pregnant silence in the huge room.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara didn't speak. She placed the large sword on a dark wood table with enough space to hold it, running her fingers over the hilt, then along the blade. "Havitharon," she said, testing the name aloud. She glanced up to him. "I would ask you what else you've lied to me about, but you really haven't told me much of anything about yourself... And still, I..." She pursed her lips together. "I was your one ally. The one person in this world who could see you, and help you. I have literally bled for you. I almost died to bring you into this world, against my will, but still a sacrifice almost made. You couldn't bother to tell me your name? Your real name, eventually? I mean, I understand... not wanting to immediately, but..."

She thought about his wild eyes when he'd saved her from the man in the bar, from the terrible decision she'd almost made. How he'd risked himself to find her father. She didn't understand.

"It doesn't matter. Let's just get through this so you don't need me to exist anymore."

[Soran Nightblade]

Havitharon wasn't sure why her obvious disappointment bothered him. She was correct... she was the only person he'd met in this world who seemed to be, more or less, an ally. Kind of. He wasn't sure what to make of someone who could order him shackled with one hand and then insist he not be harmed with the other. He paced slowly along a wall loaded with books, digesting her words.

"...It's a mushroom," he finally broke the silence.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara sighed. "What is a mushroom?" she asked, folding her arms.

[Soran Nightblade]

"Thvoros. It's a kind of poisonous mushroom. The Yurivis became fond of using it to refer to me. It seemed as good a name to offer as any."

[Emora Deen]

"People called you a poisonous mushroom where you come from?" she asked, arching her brow. "Are you? Poisonous?" She doubted he would answer if he were.

[Soran Nightblade]

He rolled his eyes. "To you? It's technically possible...I have no idea. They meant it metaphorically. Thvoros are particularly beautiful to look at, and they're a delicacy if prepared correctly. However, they're coated in venomous spines that make picking them extremely dangerous." He turned and paced in the other direction awkwardly.

[Emora Deen]

She picked up a book on Sinead's desk. She was frustrated. Why was he being so open now? Because he was chained? She'd spent a week being nice to him... Okay, well, not the entire week. But, she had showed him kindness and had trusted him, despite everyone insisting she shouldn't.

"Well, you are prickly," she murmured, dropping the book with a hard thunk. "Is that what happens where you come from? The... stud... thing. Did you think I wanted to do that to you? Is that why you wouldn't tell me your name?"

[Soran Nightblade]

He frowned, not wanted to tell her. But was there any reason not to tell her? She would never set foot in his world. What did his rank or family name even mean to someone like her?

"Where I'm from...males are extremely rare. Since the houses are so often at war with each other, males of sexual maturity are popular bargaining chips for brokering alliances between houses. Failing to acquire strong males can result in a lack of heirs or impotent young, which destroys family lines. Of course, one way for a Yurivis to ensure the upper hand when placing a breedable male into court is to take other competing males off the board. Therefore, very few survive to maturity, making the demand even higher."

"I belong to one of the most powerful houses. Thanks to an... alternate arrangement, my sister has not brokered any studding rights for me, despite the high demand. Many Yurivis have grown impatient. To be frank, the Ruthe name is normally a target on my back."

He leaned against a bookcase as he spoke, explaining it all like he was describing some dull scientific principle and not the rules that had governed his entire life.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara sat on the edge of one of Sinead's armchairs after he spoke, taking in his words with the feeling of a heavy stone in her belly. She knew of many odd cultures, and had met with many dignitaries from far off places with rules that made her stomach churn, but she had never heard of a place where males were so few and far between that they became currency.

She didn't want to tell him, aloud, that being bound to the sword in this world almost sounded like a reprieve. She was, after all, not the one half in the world and half in an inanimate object.

"Well, you don't have to worry about anything like that here. That isn’t to say we don’t have people who do that to others…” For a moment she thought of Arken, the Red Thorn Inn and its beautiful, trapped girls. She tried not to think of the other man in the bar, or bumping into him in the streets during her frantic search for Havitharon. And then, against her will, she thought of the ship that had held her for three weeks, and Elias’s special tea. Perhaps her world wasn’t so different than his. “…but that isn’t the currency our world runs on. The only people who usually find themselves in that situation are slaves or royals—married to people they don’t like for alliances or bloodlines or security." She said the last part with a sour frown, glancing out the window.

She had no worry of her parents doing such a thing, but she thought of the five-hundred-and-something letters in her father's office from noblemen and monarchies all over Heirot, asking for a chance to get their foot into a 4,000-year-old empire through its first female heir. Eventually, she would need to pick someone, like her handmaids and advisor insisted. Her parents were long-lived, but there were expectations... and if she didn't pick someone, the letters and visits and invitations would never stop. Someone might grow restless with her indecision. She knew what men were capable of when they felt strung along…

"So, no studding for you unless you want it," she said, forcing a smile. She glanced back at Havitharon, wondering if he was lying to her. Using this story to tug the strings of her sympathetic heart. She didn’t want to be a fool, to be naive and trusting. He’d let her walk around calling him a poisonous mushroom, for Thar’s sake. She rubbed the place between her breasts where his sword and been driven through her, as if she could scrub their connection away and be free of him.