The Princess and the Blade

[Emora Deen]

Tenara's gaze softened. She nodded. She'd only just returned. These were fresh wounds. Everything stung because it had just happened. Give it time, she thought. Eventually she wouldn't feel this way... "I can give it more time." She really hadn't any choice. Even if Tenara wanted to run off to a cottage in the middle of the woods, she couldn't. She was Hajara's princess, her father's only heir, and... they were surrounded by desert. Not much in the way of secluded forest.

She stood and went to the closet, grabbing a tunic and trouser combo that her aunt had left in the closet for Havitharon. "Ready to spend some time with an ornery vampire who just had his insides partially liquidated by prayer?"

[Soran Nightblade]

"Ready isn't the exact word I'd choose," he said as he rose from the warmth of their sheets to get himself dressed. He thought of the condition Vladimir had been in when he carried him back the day before. The man's body had been hot, like having a bag of smoldering coals in his arms. How had he gone from that state to being able to demand their presence overnight? He wasn't sure he wanted to know what the vampire would have to say to him.

He pulled on the outfit Tenara had indicated for him. For the first time probably since coming to this world, the clothes fit him. The palace's tailors were a force to be reckoned with. The fashion was a bit unfamiliar to him, but the clothes lay in a flattering way across his lean physique in traditional Hajaran style. "Does this look right?" he asked her, preoccupied with a sash he wasn't sure how to knot.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara smiled and helped him adjust the sash, smoothing her hands up his front and over his chest when she was done. She brushed her hand over the detailing of the stitches and embroidery near the collar. “You look very handsome.” She tugged his head down to her and placed a kiss on his lips, then she took his hand gently in hers and led him from the room.

Tenara didn’t notice the eyes on them as they wandered the palace, hand-in-hand.

Her family dined in the garden conservatory that morning. It was a glass structure just inside one of the rose gardens, with a long wood table at its center. All the doors were open to allow for ventilation, and servants were coming and going with plates and pitchers.

They breezed into it with Tenara coming to a sharp stop when she spotted Atul. “Papa!” There was a strange mix of relief and dread tangling inside her. She was happy he was home, but if he was home…

Tenara went to the end of the table and wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on top of his. “I’m glad you’re home. Are you back for good?”

Atul patted her arm gently. “For good,” he said and took her hand, pressing a kiss to it.

“I’m glad,” she whispered, her voice tight. Then, she spotted her other father and flung herself into his lap. She tangled her arms around him and gave him a tight hug. “I’m sorrry. I’m sorry for yesterday.”

Tenele looked to Havitharon’s awkward placement in the doorway and motioned for him to take one of the chairs across the table from them. “Good morning, Havitharon. How’s the leg?”

[Soran Nightblade]

Vlad wrapped his daughter in a tight hug, wincing only slightly with the movement. "I was afraid you might be blaming yourself, and sure enough. Don't apologize, Snack," he assured, and kissed the top of her head. "Listen. That attack was going to happen. If we hadn't left the palace that day, it would have been the next. You did nothing but exist in your own kingdom. Understood?"

Havi intruded on the room carefully, moving to the chair Tenele indicated. He was caught off guard when she asked about his health. "My leg is... better. Thanks to you," he said cautiously. His eyes trailed to Vladimir, but he didn't deem it wise to ask after the man's wounds when he was within earshot, especially when he was so clearly striving to appear normal.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara listened to his words, and tried very hard to put the belief into practice. But for her, guilt was often a hard thing to let go of. She nodded slowly, still looking a bit skeptical.

“I had the cook make your favorite this morning,” Atul said, because he seemed to sense that Tenara was going to ask how her father was feeling, and knew how much Vlad hated talking about his wounds. “Cinnamon swirl pancakes with cream cheese glaze.”

“That was my favorite when I was five.”

Atul scoffed. “It’s still your favorite.”

It was, even if it seemed too sweet as she’d grown older.

Tenara reluctantly peeled herself out of her father’s lap and took the seat next to Havitharon as Lelana swayed into the room and collapsed in a chair across from them.

She opened her mouth to speak but Atul lifted a hand, “Whatever inappropriate or embarrassing remark waiting to tumble out of that troublesome mouth of yours can hold off until this evening. We’re going to have a pleasant morning, understood?”

“Well, aren’t you a buzzkill, brother,” she murmured.

[Soran Nightblade]

Havi's stomach dropped a little at the way Atul spoke to Lelana. He still wasn't used to seeing a male command a female in such a way. He studied the man in fascination for a moment. "What are cinnamon swirl pancakes?" he asked just as one of the servers bustled his way into the room with a cart.

"This brings back warm memories!" the man gushed as he merrily went about setting the plates in front of each of them. Havi was still evaluating the fluffy pastries that were set before him when he sensed movement near his shoulder. He tensed, one hand tightening over his knife.

Oblivious to his reaction, the server reached around Havi with a pitcher of syrup and began pouring it over the pancakes. "Tell me when," he hummed happily. Havi just stared at the rapidly pooling fluid in confusion.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara was busy happily piling far too much cream cheese glaze onto her pancakes when she saw the pool of syrup out of the corner of her eyes. “When! When!” she said, but too late. Havi’s pancakes were swimming in a soup of liquid sugar, and the cook seemed baffled by the man’s desire for soaked breading, and was too used to taking instruction to save Havi’s breakfast on his own.

Tenara laughed, shaking her head at the sad state of his plate. She pushed it away and slid her own in front of him. “Here, try these instead. Belor, will you grab me another stack?” Tenara took her fork, cut a square, impaled it, and lifted it to his lips.

He didn’t need food, and she couldn’t remember seeing him eat. But, she had seen him drink wine. She smiled at him, and at the end of the table, Atul watched them with a mixture of curiosity and dread.

[Soran Nightblade]

Havi was still staring at the syrup, wondering how much of this stuff was needed and if the plate could handle it all, when Tenara jumped in. He realized after their brief exchange that he'd missed something, and now Tenara was giving him her own food. Hadn't her father said it was her favorite? He opened his mouth to protest, only to have it gently stuffed with the fluffiest thing he'd ever eaten. He froze, unsure what to do, and chewed it slowly. He wasn't normally a fan of sweets, but there was something buttery and savory about these that was appealing. He swallowed, still considering the flavor. It surprised him that he wanted another bite. He'd experienced barely any appetite since coming to this world, even inn the presence of foods that were familiar. Then he glanced up and realized the rest of the table, including the server, had stopped eating to watch him.

"It is... very good," he said stiffly.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara smiled, wiggling happily in her seat as she turned back to the new plate of pancakes in front of her. The cook took the soupy one away, and Tenara began to dress her breakfast as she’d done before.

“For dinner,” Atul began. “I asked him to make chicken steak and cheese pasta.”

Tenara laughed. “Seriously, are we trying to go back in time?” She playfully thumped his shoulder.

“We’re celebrating. We’re all back under one roof, for good.”

“We’re celebrating by eating like children?”

“Comforts of a simpler time,” Tenele mused, smiling at her husband. “Do you have any meals you’d like prepared from your childhood, Havi?”

[Soran Nightblade]

Havi took another testing bite of the pancakes, attending closely to their conversation. So this was food for children? Tenara loved this as a child? The thought of Tenara as a small child formed in his mind, and he found himself strangely delighted by the idea. To him, she had only existed for a few months. It was easy to forget she'd had an entire life here.

"When guests were hosted, there would often be a roast..." he paused, looking for an equivalent creature in his mental database, "roast boar," he guessed. "dressed with stewed fruits." He paused as he realized they might interpret the reverie as a request. "I don't need to eat," he blurted rather forcefully.

Vladimir raised his brows in amusement. "Neither do I," he said, and stuffed a token bite of pancake into his mouth stubbornly.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara smiled at her father. “How about we have that instead? Roasted boar and stewed fruits sounds delightful. We can have chicken steak and pasta tomorrow.” She gave her Papa a wink.

“I’ll get on acquiring the boar,” the cook said and hurried out of the room.

A calm silence settled among them and Tenara felt pleasantly at home. When she finished her breakfast, she leaned back in her seat, sipping at a mug of hot coffee.

“How are you feeling, Tenara?” her mother asked.

Tenara glanced up from watching the steam waft out of her mug. “My nerves and joints feel like they stood painfully close to a fire, but it’s not so bad. It will fade. If I don’t pay attention to it, and stay still, I don’t really notice it…”

“And the magic? Did it take a heavy toll?”

At this, Lelana perked up.

“I slept the exhaustion off,” Tenara said dismissively, waving her hand and drinking her coffee.

“We should likely still do some practice. We don’t know if your separation from the sword was a temporary fluke or not. Plus, I built a lovely training camp outside the city. It would be a shame to go to waste,” Lelana said.

“Later,” Atul replied. “Let’s enjoy being home. Let’s heal, both physically and…” He hesitated. “Let’s heal.”

After a longer silence, Atul reached across the table. “Tenara, can I see the sword?”

Tenara hesitated. She still felt unease, no matter who wanted to hold Havitharon's sword. She reached down next to her, lifting it from the floor, and placed the hilt in her father’s palm.

He gauged the weight of it, and glancing at Havitharon, said, “Let’s take a walk, you and I.”

[Soran Nightblade]

Havi's alien eyes met Atul's, sizing him up. He wouldn't be able to fight him while he held the sword. In fact, he couldn't even decline his invitation to take a walk. He rose from his chair, no longer thinking of adorable silver-haired children or stewed fruits. He tried to appraise the man's motives as he went to the door and waited for him. A warning about Tenara's involvement with him? A punishment for the events that unfolded yesterday? He tried to cross off assassination as a possibility. After all, his wife had just invited him to dinner. When Atul met him at the door, Havi offered Tenara and the rest of her family a nod before departing with him into the hallway. He walked slowly beside the man, keeping close track of him and the sword in his hands as they moved.

For the life of him, he couldn't think of a single thing to say to the man. Conversation was never his forte, especially when he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. "The guards informed us that Rami is deceased," he said.

[Emora Deen]

Atul nodded, the sword hanging at his side. “I’m still deciding whether to tell Tenara. Though, she’s no fool. I’m back, which means he’s dead or imprisoned. This way,” Atul said, guiding him down another hall. “I have regrets. After Tenele explained what might have happened to her…I wish we hadn’t killed him. It wasn’t a cruel enough death for what he caused…”

Atul led Havi into his study and towards his desk, where a black leather scabbard lay. “Tenele filled me in on what happened and what you did for Tenara… and what Knight told you.” He sighed as he lifted the scabbard and admired it. “The benefits of being king is if you tell a blacksmith to make something in a night, they make it.” He showed it to Havitharon. “I swore, when Tenara came back, a guard would never leave her side. Now, she has you. This is a symbol of our acceptance of you, but also of your duty to her. Shield her. Guard her. Protect her, so that nothing like that ever happens again.” He slipped the sword into the sheath. “I had wanted to lock this—you—in a vault, to protect her from you and what this sword might do to her. Now, I’m trusting her life with you. My, how a few days can change so much.” He seemed hesitant at his own words. Being told Havitharon meant her no harm and believing it were two things. He was trusting Knight, a man he’d never met in over twenty-five years. A man that was part of him.

He tucked it under his arm. “Do you understand what I’m entrusting you with, Havitharon?”

[Soran Nightblade]

Havi stared at the finely embossed leather, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. What was happening was so far outside of what he was expecting that his mind wasn't quite processing it. Acceptance? Duty?

When the sword slid home in the scabbard, an instinct rippled through him, the same way he was intuitively pleased when Tenara held the weapon. Security. Home. The concepts echoed through his soul, however lightly, for the first time in as long as he could recall. He wavered a step back, grasping the back of a chair.

"Do you understand what I'm entrusting you with, Havitharon?"

"...No," he said dizzily. He didn't. He didn't understand this feeling. He didn't understand what he was being offered, except that it was some form of acceptance. But with or without it, he'd already made the choice to be hers. "You wish me to be her guard?"

[Emora Deen]

Atul arched a brow at how unsteady Havitharon seemed. “Yes,” the king said. “She’s determined to keep you by her side, anyway. I would prefer it if you didn’t share her room, however. Perhaps the apartment next door?”

The king reached for a gold medallion tucked into a leather pouch on his desk. It had been sitting next the scabbard. “This will give you access to any part of the palace and anything you wish to purchase. You likely won’t need it, because Tenara will be with you. But, in case someone gives you grief—given you look like trouble—you’ll have proof you’ve got my favor.”

Atul sat on the desktop, his jaw clenched as he seemed to be holding back on saying something. Then, he shook his head. “That’s all. Let’s get this back to Tenara.”