The Princess and the Blade

[Emora Deen]

Tenara smiled. "Maybe," she said, her head swimming. She pulled him further into the room, stumbling over her on feet and giggling. "I haven't drank like this... in a while." She placed the sword on a table in the center of the room, next to a vase of flowers. The space was dark, save for some oil lamps on tables near the bed. Shadows hung in the corners of the room, and out on the balcony. The wind tossed the curtains back and forth, cool air drifting into the room and tickling the hairs along the back of her neck.

The room had been cleaned, the bed linens changed and made. She kicked off her shoes and stretched her arms above her head before slipping the shoulders off her dress. The fabric fell away to the floor as she made her way to the closet. She paused at the clothes hanging inside. Hers had been shoved over, and added into the mix were men's clothing. An assortment of dark-shaded fabric. She hadn't asked any of the servants to add it, and the clothes were of a similar style to what her aunt had given him.

Pinned to the fabric was a note. Tenara took it and read it aloud, "For your husband." She touched one of the tunics. "I suppose this was the trouble Aunt Lelana wanted to get into?" Tenara smiled over her shoulder at Havitharon. "How thoughtful."

[Soran Nightblade]

Havitharon thought it definitely did seem thoughtful. He approached behind Tenara to stare at the garments. "Am I your husband now?" he asked curiously, clearly not having a direct meaning for the word.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara smiled, grabbing at a silk nightgown hanging inside. She held it to her chest, unsure if she should dress or not. Havitharon seemed far more reserved than he had been the past two days. "A husband is a woman or man's life partner. It's a male they've bound themselves to. Marriage is a complicated thing on my world. For some, it is a binding similar to a business transaction. For others, like my parents, it is made out of love."

[Soran Nightblade]

"Oh," his tone shifted. The word meant more than he'd expected, given the way her aunt had used it. He suddenly had the sense that he'd asked something far too personal of her. "This is...'teasing'?" he tested, trying to make sense of why Lelana would use such a term to refer to them.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara nodded. "It is her specialty," she said with a smile. "But, hey, free clothes and... you're all moved in." Tenara dragged her nightgown over her head, dancing into it as she stumbled away to let him have a better look inside. "If... if you want to be moved in," she added as she unpinned her hair and pulled it loose from the braids.

It seemed natural. He was the sword, she needed to keep the sword close, therefore he should be close. But, just because they'd spent the last two days literally knotted together for hours on end, didn't mean he'd continue to want to share her bed. "The room down the hall is still open, if you prefer it." Tenara's dizzy mind had just enough clarity to know she didn't want him to sleep anywhere else.

[Soran Nightblade]

Havi stood very straight and watched her somehow look graceful while also completely clumsy. "I prefer to be here," he said, since she'd offered him a choice. He didn't need to fully understand what their relationship was to grasp that he wanted to be close as long as she allowed it.

It occurred to him that he should change as well. He hadn't been transforming into the sword at night lately. He thought it had something to do with the fact he was maintaining a separate form, whereas before they'd been merged. When he and the sword were one entity, his body wasted no time in disappearing whenever he let his guard down. Clearly the sword was the master copy in that scenario... but which version was his 'real' state? The body he had right now might not need food like a living being, but it was clearly alive enough to go into rutt.

He drew his shirt over his head without thinking, and sat to strip off his boots. It took a few moments to figure out how they unlaced. After all, he hadn't put them on himself; Tenara had just magically poofed them onto him. His found himself conscious of Tenara's presence in the room, and his gaze drifted up from fussing at his laces to see what she was doing.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Havitharon struggle with the lacing on his boots. When he looked up at her, she wondered if he needed help or if her aunt had placed some enchantment on them so they might not come off. She rose, her face still flushed from wine, and knelt in front of him. Her slender hands went to work, tugging the knots loose and drawing the laces open, pulling the boots from his feet. On the last foot, it got a little stuck, and she tugged so hard that when it came off she plopped back down on her rear hard.

She clutched the boot to her and laughed before tossing it into the closet. When her smiling gaze drifted back to him, it softened with subtle mischief. She rose to her knees, leaning forward to place her hands on his belt. "These can be tricky too," she said, unbuckling it slowly and pulling it free. She tossed it into the closet too. It clanked off of something and rattled to the floor.

Tenara smoothed her hands over the top of Havitharon’s legs and braced herself against his thighs as she pushed up,(because he was so damn tall she couldn’t reach his mouth otherwise) kissing him in a dizzy wash of heat before she stumbled the rest of the way to her feet.

She wagged her finger at him, but it was mostly for her own deterrent. “Nope. Break. Need a break.”

But instead of walking away she slipped back down into his lap, her light weight sitting on one of his knees. Her arms tangled around his neck. She pressed another kiss to his cheek, soft and warm, resisting the urge to tell him how thankful she was for him, how much she enjoyed him spending time with her, how happy she was to have had him with her that day. She felt like spilling all of herself before him—the need was so great. Instead, she pressed her face into his pretty hair and whispered into his ear. “When you’re done, come look at the stars with me.”

Then, reluctantly, she gave him space. The wine told her mind to stay in his lap, numbing the dull ache her body had carried most of the day from their marathon ride through his rutt. But Tenara also didn’t want him to think she was only interested in him for his body. She wanted his time too. His presence and fascination at her world. She wanted all of him.

She gave him a little wave as she disappeared through a curtain, out into the pitch-black night. The moon was nowhere to be seen, which encased her balcony in total darkness, but made for stunning star gazing. She could just make out the shadow of furniture and the railing against the minimal lights still dully glowing in the city beneath the palace. She went to the stone and leaned against it, staring up at a brilliant sky.

She was home.

She was safe.

Tenara sighed.

[Soran Nightblade]

Havi stopped breathing without meaning to. He stared at her fingers on his belt, and didn't stop her when she removed it. Before he could think, her lips were on his. Her kiss tasted of wine and rosebuds.

She wagged her finger at him. “Nope. Break. Need a break.”

But instead of walking away she slipped back down into his lap, her light weight sitting on one of his knees. Her arms tangled around his neck and he felt her lips against his ear. “When you’re done, come look at the stars with me.”

It was only after she'd disappeared through the curtain that he drew a slow breath. They'd done all this and more when he was in rutt, but he no longer had the surging hormones to drown his guarded nature. On top of that, her interest had caught him off guard. Until now, he assumed she had tamed him out of a sense of empathy or duty. She was the type to give of herself when she saw another person suffering, and she seemed to feel a particular sense of responsibility toward him. After all, she barely even knew what a Yurivis was.

But then, why would she flirt with him now? His brain needed a few moments to come up with a plan in response. He touched his still-tingling ear, and memories from the past two days rushed in on him. His exhausted body thrummed as his pulse beat faster.

His fingers trailed from his ear to the base of his horn beside it, tracing the still-warm ridge of freshly grown horn. It didn't matter that she couldn't keep him. He was hers, at least as long as she allowed it. He took the rest of his clothes off and glanced at the nightclothes laid out in the closet. It occurred to him that he wasn't sure if she wanted him to come to her nude, or clothed.

The thought made his head rush again. He put the clothes on swiftly and crossed out through the curtain to meet her on the veranda. He stopped in his tracks and stared. He was not in the habit of idolizing or fixating on women's appearances, but the sight of his Yurivis perched against the wall, her silver hair bathed in moonlight, struck him mute. He went to her side as if pulled there and tried to see what she was looking at. "What are they doing?" he asked, unsure what he was watching for.

[Emora Deen]

“Just existing,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. She wasn’t certain why she felt as if she needed to be quiet, perhaps because she thought the night seemed to ask it of her. She sighed. “They’re ancient and beautiful and sometimes…” she reached up quickly, pointing at one that flashed across the sky. “Sometimes they fall.” She smiled at him. “Make a wish. That’s what you do with falling stars.”

[Soran Nightblade]

He'd gotten distracted staring at her again, and had to glance up to see what she was pointed to. The tail end of the comet caught his eye as it faded over the horizon. "Wish?" he asked blankly.

[Emora Deen]

“Mmhmm,” she said, perching precariously on the railing. “Think of something you want or desire—a wish—and ask the star for it. It might grant it.”

[Soran Nightblade]

He frowned. "In exchange for what?" he asked skeptically. "Did you ask it for something?"

[Emora Deen]

Tenara chuckled. “Not everything on this world is transactional, Havi. Some things are just for fun.” She looked back up at the stars. “But, if you need a reason… I suppose the star might grant it because you noticed it, when no one else did. Among millions of lights, you saw it’s last shine.” She seemed to get lost in staring at them, the world melting away until it was only them and the sky. “It’s really just a game. A hope. Stars don’t actually grant wishes. I don’t think. But, just in case they do…” Tenara’s eyes grew misty. “I wished for you to find happiness here, and to not get bored being stuck with me.”

[Soran Nightblade]

Havitharon and stared at her with eyes like saucers. It was shock enough that she'd spent this apparently precious wish on him. On top of that, her wish hadn't been to be separated from him, but for him to remain with her? Not for her own happiness, but for his?

He wouldn't know what to wish for. The goal of happiness hadn't really occurred to him. Only survival. It made no sense to plan for more. Her way of thinking was too.... too... Warmth spread up his neck, and his legs felt wooden and unresponsive under him. "I do not think I will be bored," he said, overwhelmed. He placed a hand over the back of his neck. "How long do I have to decide? The wish! To decide the wish."

[Emora Deen]

Tenara smiled at his adorable reaction. She might have hurried him, because as far as she knew, wishes should happen at the first sight of a falling star, but, as Havitharon was new to wishing, she said, “Since it’s your first wish, take as long as you need. The Star won’t mind.”

Tenara yawned, and immediately shivered as a cool wind blew in from the sea. It smelled of salt and a storm, though she doubted they would see any rain. They rarely did.

“I think I’ll slip into bed,” she said, resisting the urge to tangle her arms about him and plant another kiss on his skin. She had accosted him already, and he had not seemed interested in her affections—at least, not as interested as he had been the past two days. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, or to annoy him. She was growing increasingly uncertain if any of those affections for her still lingered after the rutt, now that his head was clear. Instead, she placed her hand on his arm as she passed. “Come to bed when you like. Good night.”