The Princess and the Blade

[Emora Deen]

The dark room, the ship, the faceless men, it all faded when Havitharon’s fingers curled around her hand. The light in her eyes fizzled out and she felt a stinging in her injured palm—but nothing like the burn of magic before. She took a breath, as if he had reached into the sea and dragged her drowning form out.

“Havitharon isn’t the problem,” she whispered, blinking tears from her eyes. “He’s not the reason I was taken. I am. I was a ‘young woman easily manipulated by my emotions’. I wouldn’t have been stolen, Arken wouldn’t have been able to complete their spell, and Havitharon wouldn’t be in this world if I had stayed home. If he is our doom, then I am the harbinger. If you need to place your rage on someone, place it on me.”

It’s all my fault. All of this. Everything that happened to me, to Havitharon, to my parents, is my fault…

Tenara tried not to think about how the hand holding her, the one keeping her from that dark abyss of memory, could be manipulating her as easily as Rami had. What if her father was right? What if Havitharon was twisting her emotions? Twisting her soft heart to pity him, so he could use her?

He had said being bound to him would be unpleasant. He had said she was naive. He had said she wore her weaknesses like badges of honor. He knew them all by now. Would he use them?

But her fingers tightened on the hand holding hers, and she wanted to believe her heart was right to trust him. She didn’t think she could take it being wrong a second time.

[Soran Nightblade]

Havi wasn't sure why he'd reached for Tenara's hand, exactly. But it was terribly satisfying when she returned his grip. The part of him that was still in defiance of these new instincts shouted at him that he was losing his mind. The anxiety that he was falling under some kind of spell wasn't enough to make him withdraw his hand at the moment.

Vlad let his frustration out through his nose and shook his head. "No. No, this isn't your fault. Either of you. I don't need to trust him, but I'll acknowledge he didn't create this situation." He reached out and placed a hand very lightly on his daughter's head. "There is time to figure it out. And there will be time to talk about how you'd like me to kill this boyfriend of yours, when you're ready. We won't go back to Ighten for the time being. Atul and I have been researching. We found someone who can help."

[Emora Deen]

Tenara’s eyes brightened at the mention of Poppa. She had wondered why he hadn’t come with the others. He was a king, she told herself. He was busy and likely more so because his daughter had gone missing and put them on the verge of war.

But... maybe he was actually busy hunting for a way to save her from being bound to the sword.

“It’s not Aunt Lelana, is it?” Tenara arched a brow. She didn’t believe Havitharon would survive a visit from Poppa’s scandalous and—occasionally—wicked sister. When she thought of sorcerers who might have the power to do such a thing, Aunt Lalana came to mind. But, again, she was one of probably hundreds Tenara didn’t know about.

Tenara glanced down at her hand, remembering she was still clinging to Havitharon's two comforting fingers. She gave them a gentle squeeze and then freed him. His gown hugged him tightly, and thought it was femenine and lacy, and rather like her own, it only served to highlight how lithe and toned he was. She reached out and pinched the fabric in her fingers, scowling at her father. "Is this why mom's sleeping in her trousers?"

[Soran Nightblade]

Vlad couldn't help but be pleased with himself. "Oh, did the maids confuse the rooms? Tsk. And come now, you love your Aunt Lelana," he smiled mischievously.

Havitharon observed them both, alert and uncomfortable. Something was clearly amusing about his clothing, and... "Aunt Lelana?" he directed the question to Tenara.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara sighed. She did love her Aunt Lelana. The woman was wonderfully mad, frighteningly clever, and absolutely beautiful. But mostly, Tenara knew, she was broken, and sometimes that brokenness bled onto other people.

She loved her Aunt. Havitharon was going to hate her.

“You’re all up early,” her mother murmured from the bedroom doorway. She was running a hand over her tired face, sweeping it up into her hair. She balled her hair into a tangled mess at the top of her head. Then she spotted Havitharon and her eyes widened before scowling at her husband. “Initiating him already?”

[Soran Nightblade]

Vlad grinned. "I think he looks fetching."

Havitharon rolled his eyes, turned back into his room, and closed the door.

"Something I said?" the vampire smiled.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara smacked her father on the arm. "You're an asshole."

"He knows, dear," her mother said. "He wears the title like a medal."

A heavy knock sounded on the door. "Your majesties... His Highness's sorcerer believes he may be able to open a portal to take you home. It should be ready shortly. For safety, we'll be using the courtyard. Just in case."

"Just in case what?" Tenara asked.

Tenele waved her hand, but there was an edge of uncertainty about her as she breezed over to the door. "Nothing to worry about." Her mother hated portals created by anyone other than Sinead, and hated teleportation unless it was done by her husbands. "We'll be ready. So we don't cause a fuss, let us know when it opens, and we'll come down directly."

"Is it Aunt Lelana?" Tenara asked her father. There was an edge of wariness in her voice. "Havitharon doesn't trust women."

[Soran Nightblade]

"And I don't trust spiky aliens, but we can't always get what we want," Vlad said. There was an edge of real frustration beneath his cavalier tone. He couldn't give two shits what made that creature uncomfortable, and Tenara's sympathy for him was grounds for concern. "My magic will inflame your injuries. Having Lelana help lets us avoid making your body any worse, and she can start working on a solution as soon as we arrive."

[Emora Deen]

Tenara cupped her injured hand, gently, nodding. "Alright." She took up the sword and went to Havitharon's door, uncertain how she felt about being parted from the sword. What did it mean to not be tied to it anymore? Would her connection with Havitharon fade? Would she be able to make him whole again, when he became incorporeal? Would he want her to carry the sword still, if it meant she was free of it? He'd probably like a man, she thought. Probably someone who could take him on adventures, and not waste away following her around the palace. But the idea of someone else holding the sword, controlling him, not only made her sick, it made her angry.

She knocked gently on Havitharon's door. She poked her head into the room. "The clothes, the real ones, I hope they fit. I think we're leaving soon for my home. My Aunt Lelana is going to help us. She is... she is a person with a large personality. But she means well."

[Soran Nightblade]

Havitharon was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking like a soldier waiting for orders. "Is her personality as large as your father's?" he tested as he rose to accept the clothes from her.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara winced, glancing back at her family before slipping into the room. "I would say she is sometimes better, but that would be a lie. She means well, with people she loves, but she also can treat the people she loves terribly. It depends on her mood or her triggers. She was... abused. Driven mad by it, if you ask some people. Her father used her for terrible things, and made her do terrible things to others, and she has tried very hard to atone for them in the ways that she could. My family offers her grace, and as much forgiveness as they can."

Tenara didn't stray far from the door. She admired Havitharon in the gown. It was funny, and she tried very hard not to smile, but there was a brightness washing the seriousness from her eyes. She shook her head. "Anyway, she is powerful. Be warned, though. If she is in a mood... she knows your fears. She can manifest them. Make dreams of them, make them feel like realities. Play nice, if you can. Keep your head down, and who knows... Maybe you'll be home soon?"

[Soran Nightblade]

His hands stiffened around the clothing, but he didn't look surprised. She'd just described the disposition of most of the Yurivis masters on his world. It wasn't that big of a shock; He'd dropped any pretense of safety from the moment they'd come to this place last night. But he wasn't sure what to say to Tenara, who was doing her best to de-escalate things. Could he really promise to play nice, when he had no idea what these people would ask of him?

"...I appreciate the clothing, and the detailed information. I'll be out shortly," he said.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara nodded and slipped back out of the room. Her mother was staring at the door, pale and worried. But, when she emerged, the harsh lines of her face softened with relief. Did her mother truly worry every time she disappeared behind a closed door that she might not see her again?

A few minutes later, a knock sounded on the door again and the servant announced the portal was ready. As they stood before the swirling mass of sickly green, she saw her mother reach down and grasp her father's hand tightly. Then, her mother grabbed hold of her hand, and Tenara only had the injured one left. She glanced at the bandaged ruin, and reached out for Havitharon, hooking her fingers around two of his. Together, they stepped through, and reappeared in her father's study.

The study was massive, a sandstone room with a painted blue ceiling. Gold stars danced along the azure faux sky, a sharp contrast to the beautiful blue shining out his open windows.

Tenara had only a second in the room before strong arms snatched her into a hug so fierce she couldn't breathe.

[Soran Nightblade]

She held his hand, even though she was injured. She could have simply left him to be dragged apart and shoveled back together again by the sword's bond, but she brought him with them. The portal felt much less unnerving than her father's had the night before, and infinitely better than being sifted apart by the sword. It left him a bit dazed, so he was off guard when a male form suddenly grabbed Tenele.

Havitharon's body went rigid, muscles locking into gear to fight like a well trained militia. Then a hand locked hard on his shoulder and hauled him backward. He stumbled for balance, and a pale hand wrapped just under his chin, locking him in place.

"Attack my husband, and I'll rip out those spikes and carve them into musical instruments," Vlad's calm voice beside his ear could have chilled lava.

The vampire released him, and Havi steadied himself. He didn't look back at Vlad. If the vampire had meant to kill him, he already would have. They still needed his cooperation.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara was too focused in the warmth and impossible tightness of her Poppa's hug. He was spinning with her, twirling until she felt dizzy, and then he set her on her feet and framed her face in his hands.

"Leave us," he said to the sorcerer in the room, still looking over Tenara's face as if he were searching for anything missing. Anything broken. He looked into her blue eyes, the eyes that mirrored his own, and she wanted to shrink away, fearing he could see into her, see the things she wanted to keep hidden from them forever. He finally broke the stare and stepped back, looking her over, taking her hand. "Your mother..."

"Holy wound," Tenara whispered.

He frowned deeply, taking her face in his hands again. "I'm so thankful you're home," he said. "You're safe. I promise. We'll get this sorted out."

She nodded, and he pressed a kiss to her head.

Then, Atul turned his attention to Havitharon. The light in his eyes turned frigid. He took up the sword hooked to Tenara's waist and admired it, glancing from the blade to the alien creature who was bound to his daughter. "Lelana asked to meet tomorrow morning to begin. So, you can wait in the dungeon until then."

"Poppa," Tenara said, reaching for the sword. "Havitharon isn't any arm."

"Good, then he won't be any harm in the dungeon."

Tenara pressed her hands to her head, staring at all three of her parents. "He can't sleep in the dungeon."

"Why not?" Atul asked.

"Because its too far from the sword, and the sword can't be too far from me." It was a better excuse, at least for her parents, than saying, 'I will be lonely without him'.

Atul looked at his husband. "Do we still have those chains? You know the ones..."