The Princess and the Blade

[Soran Nightblade]

Havitharon reflected on her words. He could sense a difference in her manner, and he was sure there was a difference in his. It could hardly be helped. They'd shared a common goal for survival before. Now, she had her family, so that codependence was gone. Yet, she still seemed to be advocating for his interests, despite the fact she no longer strictly needed him. She seemed hurt that he didn't trust her. Such things were always manipulations. They were too good to be true.

Did he want them to be true?

"You... if you have grown comfortable with it, you may continue to address me as Thvoros," he said. It came out brusquer than he'd meant to be. "Rather...that is...plenty of people refer to me that way." Just not to my face, he thought with a twist of dark amusement. He shook his head. What the hell was he even trying to achieve right now?

[Emora Deen]

Tenara scoffed. "I prefer not to refer to you by a name given to you out of cruelty," she said, waving the suggestion off, even if "Havitharon" felt like a mouth full. She stood, feeling antsy and uncomfortable in her own skin. "So, how... did you get out of being bartered away?"

[Soran Nightblade]

He met her eyes and tried to gauge if he should tell her. This topic seemed to displease her. But her refusal to call him Thvoros had somehow taken most of the fight out of his nerves.

"My sister arranged it. Many times. But I kept killing every Yurivis who tried to bed me, and I would be returned. Since my reputation kept growing, the interest only increased. My sister made use of my notoriety and set up an arrangement. Anyone who can defeat me, gets to keep me." He scoffed, pacing the wall again. "So, they pay her ridiculous sums just to send their warriors to their deaths against me. If they pay extra, she'll throw in 'handicaps'. A bound arm. Multiple opponents. A special drug."

[Emora Deen]

Tenara ran her hand across a table as she listened, feeling that heavy weight in her belly as he spoke. She touched books and other trinkets, plotting her way across the room as he told her his sad story, until she leaned against a table a few feet from him. "Are all women so cruel there? Have you ever... been with someone you wanted to be with? For pleasure's sake?" She finally lifted her eyes to him. It was not a question she should ask, and she felt uncomfortable asking it, but she also felt that it would be a good way to tell if this story was a lie meant to earn her sympathy, or if it had really happened to him.

[Soran Nightblade]

He raised his brows at her. "Cruel?" He tilted his head, missing the use of his hands. "Pleasure? You look at the order of the world so differently. It's exhausting, and fascinating."

[Emora Deen]

Tenara didn't like the answer. She wasn't certain how to place it. Was it a continuation of a lie, or the truth? She stretched out a hand, her fingertips drawing a pattern on the desktop while she appraised him. "Here, a woman and a man—or two women, or two men, or, if you are as lucky as my mother, a woman and three men—find pleasure in each other. So when you describe your world, it sounds cruel to me. Especially if what, in my world, is meant to bring happiness, has only ever brought you misery."

She pursed her lips, watching him as if she were trying to decipher some complex puzzle. Then she stiffened, her eyes brightening. "That's... that's why you were so angry about the man in the bar. The one I almost sold myself to..."

[Soran Nightblade]

Her question caught him off guard. Angry? Had he been? If he acknowledged her observation, it somehow felt like he'd be admitting something important, but he wasn't sure why. Why had he been so angry?

It felt especially silly, now that she'd explained her culture's mindset about intercourse to him. "I simply did not expect it to happen. If you were... seeking pleasure, I apologize for interfering."

At that moment, the doors to the room swung open and Sinead blew inside. "Everything okay in here?" she asked, reviewing both of their countenances as she hurried to her desk.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara felt like his words had punched her in the gut. "No! That's—" The urgent need to explain the difference shattered as Sinead entered. Damn, her timing. She wanted just two more minutes to explain to him, but it was gone, and she couldn't now that Sinead were here.

"Everything's fine," she said, but her voice sounded strangled.

[Soran Nightblade]

Sinead was already collecting some folders and books from a shelf while Tenara responded. She arched an eyebrow at the girl. The alien was looking away, meeting neither woman's eyes. It seemed something had happened between them while she was out of the room, but the two didn't necessarily appear to be at war. The fact that he remained docile toward Tenara despite his bound hands seemed like a hopeful sign.

"Alright. In order to determine the safest way to break this enchantment between you two, I have a few theories I'd like to try. I've called for someone to help us."

As if on cue, the guards opened the doors to the room and announced "Mr. Soon Yeo, your grace."

The sword expert strode in, a long Ongorethian blade sheathed at his side, and appraised the three of them. "I suppose I should have expected something like this," he said, neither complaining nor joking. His gaze landed on Tenara and her weapon, and stayed there.

"If your time allows, we would like your help with some tests, swordmaster Yeo," Sinead greeted the man.

"Well," the man cracked a smile, "We'll need to clear a little space."

With a wave of her hand, Sinead shoved the armchairs and tables to the edges of the room, leaving a large round area for them to stand in. "Tenara," the queen said, "I'd like to monitor how the energy moves around the sword, and how it connects with you. Are you up for a sparring match?"

[Emora Deen]

She nodded, though she wasn't certain she actually was. Especially with a sword master. There was a difference between sparring with her mother and fathers, who wanted her to understand how to protect herself, but were also playful in their attacks, and the Ongorethian. She went back to the place where she'd draped the sword and picked the heavy thing up, letting it hang down by her side as she went to the space that Sinead had cleared.

"You'll have to forgive me," she said to the sword master. "As you mentioned, the sword is a little large for me."

[Soran Nightblade]

Yeo didn't have particularly high expectations for this fight, but she was curious to see the sword in action. He lined up and bowed to her, then drew his sword from its scabbard. "We begin," he warned. He started in with a slow series of training maneuvers. The technique was flawless, but he brought the speed to a level he thought most beginners could handle.

Havitharon looked on from the edge of the room, curiosity rising in him. He hadn't seen the girl really fight before.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara felt the tenseness in her muscles relax, falling into the rhythm of sparring as easily as lacing her boots. She was trained, though she wouldn't consider herself a warrior, and she had never—aside from one bar fight that revolved around fists—had a chance to test her skills with someone who didn't care for her in some way. Her mother had insisted she stay far away from anything dangerous, saying she had lived enough war and violence in her life to more than make up for any Tenara should see. She knew her mother had been through things, though she wasn't aware of everything. She knew about the battles and war, and that Arken had her tortured during it. Tenara believed her mother kept her close, kept her sheltered, because the trauma of those experiences lingered with her still, and that she would rather pull the Heavans down than let Tenara experience them herself.

The thoughts of her mother distracted her only for a second. She shook them free, and refocused, notching up the speed just a hair. It was difficult, swinging this heavy piece of steel around, and her arms were beginning to ache with the practice.

[Soran Nightblade]

Havitharon's adrenaline rose sharply as soon as the sword was in action. He felt hyper-aware of each of Tenara's movements, from the location of her feet to the sound of her breath. He could even swear he felt the angle of the sword as it cut through the still air in the room. Watching so closely, he immediately recognized it when her muscles began to tire. He kept waiting for the swordsman to end the session, but Yeo pressed her onward. The swordmaster began to strike faster, and to mix new footwork in with his other techniques to surprise her.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara began to stumble on her feet, her tired limbs becoming sluggish. She might have been able to keep up with the fanciful footwork if she had a lighter sword more fit for her frame, but then the level of skill he shifted into soon outpaced her practiced knowledge of fighting. "Okay," she said with a laugh, barely blocking his next strike. "Is that enough data?"

[Soran Nightblade]

Yeo glanced at Sinead, who gave him a shake of her head. "Push her," the queen said. She was watching Tenara's fight with eyes that saw things no one else in the room could see.

"As you wish, Yeo said, leaning into the fight. He didn't relent as he pushed her, gradually working her backwards toward the edge of their circle of furniture.

Havitharon's temper flared. The girl was clearly tired. Yeo's strikes were not weak. It was a matter of time before an injury occcurred. His bound hands clenched fiercely behind his back.