The Princess and the Blade

[Emora Deen]

Tenara pressed her face to his, closing her eyes. "Then, you are mine, and I am yours. A sun and moon. A day and a night. A pair, you and I." She tangled her fingers with his. "No ownership. No servitude. Just... us."

[Soran Nightblade]

His hand held hers tightly in return. "As you wish," he murmured, and kissed her. It felt different than it had during the rutt. Without pheremones steering him, it wasn't the same reckless intoxication. It was warm, and sweet. A gentle desire that drove his pulse faster and made him forget the need to breathe. No ownership. No servitude. Just us. His moon.

A knock came at the door. "Cool those pulses, both of you, or it's into the fountain. Lelana's ready for you," Vlad's voice warned from the hallway.

Havi slid his face into the crook of her neck and sighed a hot breath across her collarbone. "Can we just go back to sleep?"

[Emora Deen]

Tenara sighed, both out of frustration at her father’s impeccable timing and the feel of Havitharon’s breath across her skin. She leaned into him. “I wish we could,” she said, smiling.

Then, the other piece of her father’s message struck her.

Her aunt was ready.

Her pulse raced for a different reason now. Her hand tightened around Havitharon’s larger fingers. “We’ll be out in a minute,” she called to her father.

She’d fallen into the illusion that she would have more time, that her parents would bicker with her aunt over things like the place and time for far longer. But, of course they hadn’t. They wanted her separated from the sword as soon as possible.

She’d hoped to ask her father more questions, to get a greater understanding of how much the experience had broken him, and how much it might break her.

Tenara slipped out of bed and hurriedly changed into a navy-colored Hajaran dress trimmed in silver embroidery. She combed fingers through her hair, grabbing the sword from the table and going to the door. “I’ll just talk to him a minute while you dress or shower. Whatever you need. Take your time. I’ll be right outside.”

She slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her. “It’s cheating to snoop on people’s heartbeats, you know.” Hers was a wild horse inside her chest. Even her legs had a nervous quiver in them.

This was better, she reminded herself, than her family prying Havitharon’s sword apart.

[Soran Nightblade]

Vlad was leaning against the wall next to the door with his arms crossed. "It doesn't take much effort. The two of you might as well host a drum circle in there," the vampire sniffed. The guards weren't there; they'd learned their Kingsoul's moods well, and knew well enough when to make themselves scarce. He tilted his head to side-eye the sword she'd carried out with her. "You still want to do this, with your Aunt?"

[Emora Deen]

She hesitated, glancing at the sword and then back at him. “I-I do. I just…” How did she ask him about something that had seemed to pain him so much? “How long did it take to… feel better afterwards? What did she show you that hurt so badly? Was it a memory?”

[Soran Nightblade]

Vlad's posture visibly tightened. He'd had a feeling she might ask him something like this, but that still hadn't prepared him to answer. "Your Aunt was very sick at the time... as you know. She was feeling broken, and she wanted to break someone else." He looked at the other side of the hall as he spoke, not sure what expression he'd make if he looked at her. "It was a memory, and it also wasn't. Someone hurt your mother very badly. Your Aunt made me watch."

He gritted his teeth, but did his best to explain it with indifference. "When watching didn't have the effect she wanted, she altered the dream, and made me hurt her myself. Repeatedly. Eventually, it didn't matter if I'd really done it or not. I remembered every second of it. I had done it." He shook off the thought. "Afterwards, the memories were intruding into the present to the point where I couldn't tell what was happening. Lelana did her best to sort out my thoughts with her magic and stabilize me enough to stay sane, but it was impossible to touch your mother without the memory intruding." He looked at his daughter with concern in his eyes. "If you're asking how long it takes the false memories to go away... they don't."

[Emora Deen]

Tenara was staring at him, trying to imagine what had happened to her mother. She knew Arken had tortured her once, and she knew that wasn’t the extent of the awful things they’d been through together. But her parents didn’t tell her everything. Her father had been tortured to become stronger and not even he had been able to withstand the mind-breaking nature of her aunt’s magic. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I shouldn’t have asked. That sounds… awful.” She glanced away, trying to stifle the panic growing in her chest. She was quiet for a long time, listening for Havitharon to emerge. Eventually, she leaned against the wall next to her father. She rested her head on his arm. She wanted to talk about it, to express her fears and concerns and terror at the idea of her worst nightmare playing over and over but she didn’t want him to know. She didn’t want the pity, or for him to look at her as if she were broken. Though, she suspected she might be broken when her aunt was through.

She clenched her teeth, fighting the wave of nausea and fear just thinking of speaking to him about it brought. “Some people hurt me very badly,” she said, phrasing it as he had for her mother. Her voice was barely above a whisper but she knew he could hear her. “I…I don’t really remember.” She heard the distant, growing sound of waves. “Just… fragments.” Wood groaned. Water dripped. Boots clonked across the floor. A heavy weight bore down on her. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Tenara blinked, fighting to push the knowing down in the dark where she liked to keep it. She glanced at her hands, saw how they shook, and tucked them into the folds of her dress. “If she gets in my head, I might remember... What if I’m not strong enough to do this? I don’t feel broken now—maybe I am and I haven’t realized—but what if it breaks me?”

[Soran Nightblade]

Vlad's stomach buckled into a cold knot. His daughter had been kidnapped, stabbed, burned, and any number of other injuries. This time, it was an injury she didn't feel comfortable talking about. Maybe it was paranoid, but he couldn't help it; After what happened to her mother, his mind jumped to the worst possible conclusion. His heightened senses could clearly discern her fear, the slight trembling of her hands against the fabric of her dress. No. Not her. He should have been there to protect her.

He turned and pulled his daughter into a tight hug. His arms wrapped securely around her, as if he could cocoon her from the memory. He knew he couldn't. "Snack," he murmured, his cheek pressed to her head. "We can tell her not to use it."

[Emora Deen]

“We can tell her not to use it.”

Tenara clung to him, her arms tangled tightly around his waist. She bowed her head and buried her face into the soft linen of his shirt, and tried very hard not to cry. She knew he could hear the lurch of her heart, just as he could hear the start of a sob she was trying desperately to hold in.

She was safe.

Safe.

And that was partly the problem, part of why she had been content in the cottage with Havitharon. Though comfortable, it had still kept her on her toes. Kept her moving.

Here, there was peace. Quiet. Safety. All the time in the world to think and dream and remember the hazy, broken fragments of what she’d been aware of when the drugs keeping her under had worn off. Time to recall the span of minutes where she was just conscious enough to understand something was happening but not lucid enough to react, or for the bind holding her magic to snap. Oh, how she wished it had… But, if it had, she wouldn’t have met Havitharon. He wouldn’t be free of his world’s torment—if she could call what he was now free.

Tenara clung to her father a minute longer before she drew away and smoothed her hands over her face to smear the tears away. “I’m going to walk ahead to the study… Would you guide Havi when he’s ready?”

She knew it was a lot to ask of him—to guide the alien creature clinging to her soul. But she needed the space to collect herself. The walk was also not so far that the sword’s pull would drag Havitharon to her, so if someone wasn’t there to tell them where they’d gone, he might wander into someone less understanding.

[Soran Nightblade]

Vlad nodded, unable to say no to his daughter after what he'd just seen. "Yeah, I'll bring him," he obliged without relish. He waved her off and stood there a minute, organizing his thoughts. His daughter's problematic companion emerged shortly after. Spiky looked around the hall, and at him, taking in his surroundings.

"She went ahead," Vlad offered, sparing him the work of asking. "She asked me to bring you."

The alien tilted his horned head, evaluating him quietly. "Are you?"

"First, I've got something to say." Vlad crossed his arms. "I'm saying this because it seems like you might actually want to protect my daughter. She's going to have some choices when this is done, and she is going to suffer to earn those choices."

Spiky frowned at him. "You speak of your sister's powers?"

"Yeah, I do." The vampire cast him a level stare. "I don't care why you're flirting with my daughter; I don't know you from a hole in the wall. But whatever your reasons, if you give a damn about her, knock it off."

"Excuse me?" Havitharon's eyes glowed with irritation.

"That child has protected every living thing that's ever warmed up to her. Lizards, kobold pups, scorpions, a basilisk. She'd come home with them in her arms, tears in her eyes, promising she would love them forever. She'd give up her allowance to feed them. She'd give up her bedroom to house them. She'd give up her friends so they wouldn't be stung or turned to stone. We made her turn them all free. Do you know why?"

The alien's brows knitted, but he didn't respond or move. Gold eyes focused on him, listening. The guy had the emotional range of a crocodile.

"We told her the right pet wouldn't require her to give up anything. It would fit her life, her personality, and her needs.

"Your daughter does not see me as a pet," Havitharon spoke coolly.

"That makes it worse." Vlad stepped up into the alien's personal space, frowning up at him. "Tenara wants to save you. I need her to save herself. Whatever she decides to do when her powers are under control, if you give a single fuck about her, don't make her sacrifice for you. Don't be the creature that needs saving. She doesn't need a pet. She needs her life back."

Havitharon's cool demeanor didn't change. If the words angered him, he didn't show it.

Vlad rolled his eyes. "Blink twice if you understand me, Spiky."

"...I understand you."

"Fine. Let's go."

[Emora Deen]

Tenara hesitated outside her parents study, taking a deep breath before she swept into the space.

“Ah! There you are,” her aunt said. “Wait? Where’s the hunky, grumpy shadow?”

“He’s coming,” Tenara said, without her usual chipper attitude.

“Tenara, if you don’t—“ her mother began.

“I do,” she said.

“I’ve set up a camp outside the city. We’ll do our ‘training’ there, and I’ll bring you back at night. That’s your mother’s condition. I’ll return you every evening to the comfort and security of home. Does that work?”

Tenara nodded.

“While we’re waiting on the boys, could I take a look inside that head of yours to see what I’m working with?”

Tenara blanched. “Maybe when we’re in the desert.”

“It’ll only take a second, dear.” Her aunt approached, hands reaching for her head.

Tenara panicked, still hearing the waves sweeping the shore of her memories. “No!” Her eyes flared red and Lelana’s hands withdrew. Tenara clutched the ache in her chest, the pressure of her power building. “I’m sorry. Give me a second.”

Tenara stepped through the open doorway outside, leaving her aunt and mother staring at one another.

[Soran Nightblade]

Havitharon and Vlad turned the corner just in time to see Tenara escape into the hallway with them.

"Tenara?" Vlad said, going to her side while Havi hung back a few yards. The vampire met his wife and sister-in-law's eyes through the open door and raised a brow at them suspiciously. "Something happen?"

[Emora Deen]

Tenele shook her head, concern creasing her brow.

Tenara paused, clutching at the invisible chain around her chest. "I need a minute more."

"I just wanted to take a look inside her head, to see what we had to work with for motivations," Lelana said. "If she can't even let me look in her head without it triggering her, then we're going to have a problem..."

Tenara clenched her eyes. The sound of waves became a roar, the thunk of boots like thunder. The more she tried to cram it down, bottle it up, shove it away, the louder it got. A chorus of barely discernible voices joined the hellish melody.

"—y turn."
"Pretty princess."
"—mells like roses."
"...jasmine."
"Sshh..."
"—leeping beauty."

Tenara clutched her chest, trying to claw at the chain wrapped tight around her, suffocating and restricting, but she only caught the silk of her dress. The pressure climbed. Aching. Blinding. She was splintering apart, cracking and boiling and breaking.

Control. Control. Get it under control.

Her eye flashed open, bright and red and frightened.

[Soran Nightblade]

Havi's eyes lit up as he started forward. "Tenara!"

Vlad's hand blocked him from approaching her. "Give her room."

He turned a cold glare on the vampire. The only thing that kept Havi from lashing into Vlad was the fact that he had no idea what was happening to her, and it seemed like her father did. *Tenara... your father is next to you.*

[Emora Deen]

Havi's guiding words helped ground her. She was here. She was home. Her father was next to her. She was safe. It was all in her head. She reached out and grabbed hold of her father.

Tenara dragged panicked breath into her lungs for several minutes, focusing on cramming it all down inside until the waves and the voices were a whisper. She was sweating by the end of it, looking as if she'd run several miles and feeling very much the same.

*Thank you.* she told Havitharon, her gaze sweeping up to him. Her eyes were blue again.

Tenara looked to her father, and then to her mother and aunt. She couldn't keep living like this—with her magic being this dangerous pressure inside her threatening to destroy her home and the people she loved. She swayed a little on her feet, turning to her aunt. "I will let you look," she said, her voice wavering. "But you have to promise not to use the ship."