The Princess and the Blade

[Emora Deen]

Laurius smiled. "I prefer you here anyway," he said, taking the champagne bottle to his lips. He took a swig.

Tenara slid off his chase and stumbled to the bed. There were several pillows, so she grabbed one and took it over to Artisuren. "Here you go," she said, and reached down to pat his head like she might pet Stalker.

[Soran Nightblade]

Artisuren looked up at her and accepted the pillow, a bit dazed. She was very... shiny. And kind. "Thank you," he said. His expression softened as he looked at the pillow.

Havitharon set his wine down on the side table. He wasn't especially interested in food or drink tonight. He was hypervigilant of their surroundings, their close company with these relative strangers, and his Yurivis's mood in a place he was concerned might upset her. He sat at the edge of the bed and touched the covers curiously. They were not silk like those in the palace. The texture was closer to the sheets in their woodland cabin. The thought raised a prickle of longing in him.

No. He shouldn't miss that time. Maybe he'd had her to himself, but she had been isolated from her family and the life she loved. It was the same now. A loyal Ivis would never monopolize their Yurivis's attention. He observed the other men in the room. Some day, would she share her bed with one or both of them? Stop, stop, he shook his head. He reached for the champagne and downed it harshly. "I'm drinking to bed-- Going to bed first," he said, sliding into a position where he could watch the room reclined.

[Emora Deen]

Laurius arched a brow. "First? No need to keep watch here. It's perfectly safe." Laurious took a swig of the champagne and watched Tenara climb into bed with Havitharon. She slid beneath the covers, and curled into Havitharon, resting her head along his hips and waist.

"Seems we are all going to bed," Laurius said. He lowered the wicks in the oil lamps along the wall until it was dim. "Good night, Artisuren," he said, running his hand along the dagger as he headed back to the chase, feeling its cool metal beneath his fingers. For now, it seemed back to normal.

Tenara was already sleeping. Her soft breathing fluttered into the air, the slight whistle of a snore from a woman who had indulged in too much drink.

"She doesn't get seasick, does she?" Laurius asked Havitharon quietly. "She drank like a woman who wanted to forget something or distract herself from something. I suppose my company is really that unpleasant."

[Soran Nightblade]

Havitharon stroked her silver hair behind her ear. He had no reason to be harsh or unkind to this person, and quite to the contrary of what the man seemed to think, his Yurivis seemed to enjoy his company. "You attend to her well. She is not seasick," he acknowledged. "But her stories are not mine to tell."

He glanced across the room, where Artisuren had rolled to face the wall and was already breathing in the slow rhythm of sleep. "What of you? What are your intentions with her?"

[Emora Deen]

Laurius crossed his feet at the ankles and tucked his arms behind his head. "I have no intentions beyond a better understanding of the dagger and helping you understand your sword." He watched Havitharon in the barely-there light. The storm clouds must have blotted out the moon. Everything outside their window was black. "If you're concerned I have any romantic intentions, this is purely business. I have no desire to take her from you."

[Soran Nightblade]

"I did not express concern," Havitharon said plainly. "I also do not claim the right to possess her. I am simply curious of your intentions." He leaned against the headboard. "What is that knife to you? For what purpose did you forge it?"

[Emora Deen]

Laurius's gaze flicked to the dagger lying next to the sword. "An experiment. I connect people to items that they need. I was asked to find a sentient weapon that would give the user an almost insurmountable edge in a battle, one that would think for the user, and one that would be immune to holy or unholy magic. I couldn't find such a weapon, so, after some lengthy research, I came across a book that spoke of how to forge one using magic not of this world. The dagger was a prototype. When I proved it could be done, I turned my research over to the clients who originally requested the weapon—three princes of Arken."

[Soran Nightblade]

Havi attended him carefully, frowning at the bedspread. "You used yourself as the fulcrum of the ritual?" he theorized, glancing at Artisuren. "His state was inferior to mine when I arrived. Do you possess magic, as she does?"

[Emora Deen]

Laurius shook his head. "No," he said. "The spells from the book are of another world and do not seem to use the same mechanics or rules as our world. I needed no magic in my blood to speak the words and create the ritual. I gathered the materials, read the rites, and the dagger was forged." Laurious looked at his hands. "It required soul stones. I purchased two, forged the third from a stag, and the fourth from a..." he glanced at Stalker hesitantly. "A wolf."

[Soran Nightblade]

"It is beginning to make sense," Havi said. "Everything she has gained has been in proportion to her sacrifice. Everything I have gained, as well." He looked pointedly at Artisuren's physical form on the floor. "She does not think of her sacrifice." He wondered if Laurius would understand the warning. Tenara's strength, however great, was finite.

"You will seek the greatest power with the least personal sacrifice. That is a merchant's nature. Even so, do not depend on her. It is not her sacrifice to make. If you want to sustain him in that form, do it with your own strength."

[Emora Deen]

Laurius stared at Havitharon a second before he glanced at Tenara and then at Artisuren. Sacrifice... He thought back to when she'd made Artisuren whole, the blood on her face, and how she'd collapsed afterward. Theories began to worm there way into his head, but he was tired. He needed more information before he voiced those theories out loud.

"Understood," Laurius said.

He wondered if he needed to sustain the phage at all beyond now. Could it... should it go back to the way it was before, now that he was no longer melting? Laurius stared at Artisuren's back. He thought about the storage room in the ship, Artisuren's warm, wet mouth wrapped around him. Then, he thought of the inn and driving into Aritsuren until they both shattered with bliss. He shifted against the chase as his body responded to the thought, sliding down and throwing an arm over his eyes. "Good night, Havitharon."

A few hours later, lightning flashed across the sky, filling the room with white light. The ship began to sway and pitch. The wood groaned. Laurius almost rolled off his chase, which served to shake him awake just a little. He was almost fading back to sleep when he noticed Tenara shifting in her sleep. Her breath was quick, and she flinched and tossed her head. A nightmare, he thought. He wondered if he should wake her from it, but it seemed odd to him. Nightmares passed. It was just a dream.

But for Tenara it was not a dream. She was on a ship. Waves thrashed against the hull, and the air filled with the groan of wood resisting the ocean around it. She could hear the sound of boots against the floor and whispers in her ear. Blurred faces warped in and out of the dark, their hands bruising, their weight crushing. She couldn't move. Couldn't speak or scream. She wanted to scream. Just scream. Elias floated out of the dark, a cup in his hand. He poured it down her throat and kissed her lips and the world turned fuzzy black and he was over her and in her and—

Lightning flashed and the ship pitched as Tenara screamed and bolted up. For a moment, she didn't remember the day or the night. She was on a ship. It was dark, the wood groaned, the waves crashed against the hull and someone was lying next to her. Panic clawed up, and she screamed again and again and tried to get out of bed, but she was tangled in the sheets. No. She was tied up. They'd tied her up. She was trapped. She couldn't get up, couldn't run away. Her eyes flared red.

[Soran Nightblade]

Havi burst awake to the sound of Tenara's scream. He'd slept through the storm and the tossing of the ship, and now he wasn't sure which part of their turbulent environment was an attack, or if someone was in the room and attacking them.

A figure moved rapidly toward Tenara in the dark, and Havi shot a clawed hand out to stop it from reaching her. Ferocious jaws latched down hard on his striking fist and shook. Havi grunted at the sudden pain. His eyes, accustomed to low light, took in the thing latched onto his hand. For a minute he couldn't remember the beast's name, but then he huffed out "Stalker!"

The hellhound released him in confusion. They'd both mistaken the other for the source of Tenara's fear, but now her red eyes were beginning to fill the room with a strange light.

"What is it?" Artisuren shouted, on his feet now and pressing his back to the wall.

"Tenara," Havi urged, clutching her shoulder.

[Emora Deen]

At the moment Tenara heard Havi’s voice, and felt his hands curl tightly around her shoulders, Laurius hopped off the chase and went to the swaying lamp. “It’s a dream!” he said as dim, warm light chased the dark away.

Tenara took in the room, still looking at the ship like it was a living, breathing thing that could drag her down, down, down to a place only nightmares could reach.

“Just a dream,” Laurius repeated. There was an edge of fear in his voice.

A dream…

Tenara touched herself as if to make sure. Her legs, her belly, her arms, chest, and then she clutched her face for a second before she curled into herself and tangled her hands in her hair. Tears burned her eyes and as they crested, the red in her gaze fizzled out.

A pressure she hadn’t noticed in the room eased. The walls and boards of the floor groaned with it, relaxing back into their preferred place.

Tenara twisted towards Havitharon and tangled her arms around his neck, hiding from Laurius and Arrisuren as the tears came and her breath hitched with a sob.

[Soran Nightblade]

Havi held her tightly cradled against him and stroked the back of her head with his unbitten hand. "You're safe," he whispered, sinking into the blankets with her. "It's safe."

Stalker climbed onto the already crowded bed and lay with his back pressed to Tenara's. He licked his teeth and yawned. His ruby eyes warned the other two men not to approach them.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara cried against the warm skin of Havitharon’s neck, feeling the comforting weight of his arms around her, his fingers in her hair. Then, Stalker folded in next to her and she was cocooned in safety. It took another few minutes for the sobs the quiet.

Laurius was still standing but the lantern, hand awkwardly frozen over the dial as the ship swayed. He didn’t know what to do. He was not accustomed to crying women, much less crying women who nearly blew out the walls of their water-proof vessel from fear.

He glanced at Artisuren, checking to see if the phage was okay but also to see if he was equally concerned.

The hound did not seem to want them to offer their help, so Laurius eased cautiously back to the lounge. He was too awake now to go back to sleep, so he sat on the edge and looked them over. That’s when he noticed Havi’s bleeding hand.

“Havitharon, you’re hurt,” he muttered, nodding to Havi’s hand. “We should take care of that.”