The Princess and the Blade

[Emora Deen]

Tenara sank back down near him, her eyes full of misty relief. She hadn’t hurt him? It didn’t mean he wouldn’t regret what she’d done, how she’d brought him to his release. Perhaps his first ever or, at least, with a woman.

Tenara touched his hand, drawing the arm he’d bit towards her. She admired it, but didn’t dare offer to mend that too. She ran her thumb over the teeth marks, and then pressed a kiss to them.

-

Tenele was sitting rigid in a chair facing the door. “They’re in there. He’s helping her fix the arm… It’s been a while and I am trying very hard no to barge in. I heard…” She swallowed and shifted uncomfortably. “He demanded privacy for them.”

[Soran Nightblade]

Havitharon looked on in bafflement as she stroked the marks on his arm. He didn't want to acknowledge the physical proof that he'd been nearly powerless to hold back his voice earlier. It wasn't as if the indents were bleeding, but he couldn't bring himself to reject her hands touching them. It felt like a tension was physically released every time she held him, even if the contact was troubling in other ways.

In the other room, the look on his wife's face combined with her words made Vlad's temper rise. "Privacy, my ass," he muttered, and barged past her to the door. He threw the door wide to find two heartbeats, both accelerated, and his daughter kissing her pet demon's arm. "You," he glared at Havitharon. "You seem 'fixed', so get away from my daughter."

[Emora Deen]

Tenara stood up, coming between her father and Havitharon. She wanted to put some distance between them, especially given Havitharon’s She lifted her hand, the one with the angry glint of Thar’s medallion on her palm but no spreading lines of death. “We’re both fixed. He helped me. Give him some space.”

She knew her father’s senses well enough to know he could hear their heartbeat and smell what might have transpired in the room as easily as one might find a glaring stain. She really didn’t want to endure the awkwardness of explaining how her magic seemed to work, or why the room smelled like…

“I told him he could wash up,” she said, herding her father towards the door. “Let’s give him some privacy.”

Her mother stood in the doorway, and Tenara hated the worry and anger on her face. She wondered if anything would ever be normal again.

[Soran Nightblade]

Moving Vlad was like shoving an iceberg. His eyes held threateningly on Havitharon's as he allowed his daughter to guide him toward the door. "Fine," he said to Tenara, acid sweltering in his gaze. "He looks like he could use a bath." He placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder to be clear she was coming out with him.

Havitharon did not move from where he was seated, returning Vlad's glare with a look of cool stone.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara followed her father out of the room, half pushing him—if you could call it that. Once they were on the other side of the door’s threshold she closed it. She kept her hand on the knob.

She understood part of her anxiety about facing her parents, but it didn’t explain the anxiety that came before going into the room with Havitharon. She was afraid of being home, because being home meant she would stop moving, stop being busy and distracted and have to face what had happened. All of it.

“Tenara…” Her mother’s voice was soft. Concerned.

“I should get this blood off,” Tenara said, turning to them.

“Of course.” Tenele nodded. There was the worry on her face again, and she saw her mother’s eyes drift to her father, a shared look of concern, a request.

[Soran Nightblade]

Vlad knew that look. It was his least favorite - the one that told him to quell his anger and postpone his interrogation of their clearly shell-shocked daughter. Anger was a much easier emotion for him to process than worry. But, he nodded. "Let your mother help you. I'll be here in the main room. I'll make sure the bellman brings some fresh clothes."

* * * *

Havitharon sat as if he were frozen. Once Tenara left the room, that mysterious security he'd felt under her touch... the faith he'd gained so reluctantly over the past week... all fell apart. It was like he'd just been stripped naked in front of people who wanted to stone him. What had he thought would happen when she reunited with her family? That Tenara would just go on with the sword's connection constantly warping her magic? That she'd just keep chopping herself up every day to keep him mortal? She couldn't do that. He didn't want her to, and neither would her parents.

Especially after what they'd just seen, they would find a way to break the curse.

He stood up and stripped off his damp clothes. The memory of her was slick along the front of his stomach. He wiped it off with what remained of his shirt and chucked the whole bundle into the fireplace.

Maybe he'd get back to his world. Maybe he'd disappear inside the sword. Maybe they'd find a way to destroy the sword, or transfer it to someone else. The ideas should have upset him, but he just found himself pondering their pros and cons as if they had nothing to do with him or his life. What did it really matter, anyway? Tenara would be safe, but his time with her was on a countdown.

He stepped into the bath, his long hair coiling along the surface of the water as he submerged.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara nodded to her father and stepped around him, grabbing up the hilt of the sword and taking it with her into the next room. Her mother touched her father's shoulder, giving it a squeeze before she followed Tenara into the washroom.

Tenara rested the sword in the corner and began unbuttoning her dress. Again, it was hard to do with one hand, so her mother came to her and helped. They worked quietly, shedding the ruined dress and then the slip. Tenara was glad her mother had healed her before this, glad she wouldn't see the bruises and cuts that littered her body. Instead, her hands and arms were criss-crossed with shimmering scars, with the long one down the center of her chest, over her sternum.

Her mother paused at the sight of it. She stepped around her, seeing how it mirrored on the back, tracing it lightly with a finger.

"That's the first," Tenara said. "What brought Havitharon into the world." When she saw her mother's face again, there were tears on her cheeks.

Tenele helped her daughter into the tub. They were quiet for a long time afterwards, with Tenele dragging a cloth over her and washing away the mud and blood, washing her hair as if she were child again. Tenara didn't know what to say to her. There was so much to say. So much to apologize for.

"I love you," Tenele said, pressing a kiss to Tenara's wet hair. "I know it is... difficult to talk about what's happened. I know you have been through a lot. Just know that I understand, maybe in some ways you might not think."

And now it was Tenara's turn to cry. She burst open with it, curling in on herself in the tub and crying heavy tears. She'd missed her mother so much, had begun to think she might never really see her again. Now they were together, and she couldn't speak.

A while later Tenele emerged from the adjoining room to the common space and sat slowly in a chair. "She's resting in bed. Poor thing is exhausted. She's sleeping with that sword like it's a fucking doll."

[Soran Nightblade]

Vlad stood and went to his wife's side. He perched on the arm of her chair and leaned, down, placing a kiss on her silver hair. He could smell the dried tears on her skin and hear the ache in her heartbeat. "I can't say I blame her for guarding it. That thing is her weakness. If someone else takes it, and leaves with it..." He huffed. "Plus, it's how she can control that perverted familiar of hers."

[Emora Deen]

Tenele pursed her lips. "I suppose, when you look at it like that..." She wanted Tenara safe, and away from the sword and the creature inhabiting it. "Do you want to take the perverted familiar the change of clothes or should I?"

[Soran Nightblade]

Vlad scoffed. "I had the bellhop slip them in," he said with a bit too much of a smirk on his face.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara woke sometime before dawn. The air had gone cool, but there was a warmth near her back. She was fuzzy-headed and assumed, briefly, it was Havitharon. She rolled to find her mother. She was peaceful. Beautiful. There wasn't any worry or sadness in her face right now. Tenara pressed a kiss to her forehead and rolled back around, hugging the sword again.

The sword made her think of Havitharon, and thinking of Havitharon made her think of earlier. She'd left him like that. He'd said she hadn't hurt him, but she still felt guilty and afraid that he'd eventually come to regret it. She rose up and thought about walking over to his room, but she noted her father wasn't anywhere in the room and, if she knew him, she'd likely not make it far before being detected.

So, she settled back into bed. The situation was already sensitive given earlier. The last thing she needed to do was get caught sneaking into his room like some lovesick girl.

Are you awake? she wondered quietly through the link, a mental whisper.

[Soran Nightblade]

Havitharon lay on his back, nude beneath the covers and staring blankly at the ceiling. He'd done his best to sleep - after all, he might need to be in top form to handle whatever happened in the morning. But he was in a strange, possibly hostile location. He'd been looping in and out of an uneasy rest all night.

Tenara's soft voice at the back of his thoughts made him shoot upright. He scanned the empty room, the blankets pooling around his waist. It took a few half-asleep moments to realize she wasn't physically there. He drew a slow breath and reflected on whether he should just pretend to be asleep. No, he needed as much information as he could get.

I am. He slid back down into the covers and pressed his face down against the mattress. How are you feeling?

[Emora Deen]

Tenara relaxed at the sound of his voice. Cleaner, she thought, smiling. How are you? Did my father pester you any? I thought about coming over... It feels weird not to... sleep next to you. She cringed at the sound of what she'd said. But it did feel odd. She'd spent a month with him, next to him. Always and constant. She was wondering if she didn't know how to be away from him, and if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

[Soran Nightblade]

Her words sent a pang of yearning through his chest. He rubbed his face harder into the mattress. He was going insane. Since when did he not like sleeping alone? Had he gotten used to her that quickly? He sidestepped the topic like it was a pit of lava. We haven't interacted, yet. He looked over at the women's nightgown that had been set inside his door the night before. He didn't feel like bringing it up. Enjoy reconnecting with your parents. I'd just as soon stay out of their crosshairs.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara frowned. I don't think you can avoid that, she said, sitting up. She went quietly to the door, holding the sword at her side, and peeked out into the common space to see if she could find her father. He was either outside doing some patrol or tucked in a corner where she couldn't see him. I mean, given that you and I are connected. You're kind of... permanent. They'll get used to you. Eventually. Well, she hoped.