Heirot

Laurius sighed, passing his coconut into Tenara’s expert hands and taking the one she’d punctured.

“It’s not his fault,” Tenara said as she began to puncture the next one. “Havi says that women are domineering and cruel where he comes from. There aren’t many men, you see. He isn’t used to kindness, especially from a female.” She paused in removing the knife from the hole she’d made, lost in thought. Then, she pulled the dagger free. “They don’t have things like love there. All they know is service and oppression.”

Tenara offered the second coconut up to Ren, trying again.

“Take the damn coconut, Ren,” Laurius said between gulps of the one in his hand.

Ren reached out and accepted the coconut, feeling annoyed with both of them and not sure why. Maybe it was because the Yurivis was holding his dagger. Or because the conversation made him feel inadequate to serve here. The way she described his world sounded accurate, but it also seemed laced with pity. And there was that word again - "love" - that felt fuzzy and approximate in his mind, the same one Laurius had mentioned on the ship. Was not having that thing so terrible that it justified the sadness in her voice? Would it cause him to be dismissed if he didn't have it?

He drank from the fruit as he'd been told, thoughts racing. Asking was a bad idea. It would only serve to highlight his lack of the quality. But as usual, his temper won out. He set the coconut aside and crossed his arms. "What is so important about not having Love?" he challenged them both.

Laurius drank a second longer, but felt he could drink all of them. “It’s not important, really,” Laurius said. “It’s just an emotion some people feel towards each other. It’s a hassle, if you ask me. Love complicates so many things that I prefer uncomplicated.”

Tenara frowned. “Says a man who has never let himself be in love, I suppose.”

“And you? Have you let yourself be in love?”

Tenara snatched another coconut and stabbed it with the dagger. Laurius watched her curiously, and then began to smile. “You’re in love with your phage, aren’t you?”

She said nothing, passing him the coconut and taking another. She stabbed it angrily, and then left the dagger on the log. Just as Laurius began to drink the coconut she’d offered him, she took it from him. “These are for Merry and Tabatha,” she snipped and stormed off.

“See,” Laurius sighed. “Complicated. You and Havitharon are better off as you are.”

Artisuren uncrossed his arms slowly and nodded. "Then, it doesn't bother you that I won't love you?" Relief made his chest feel warm. This man couldn't love, either. Ren marvelled at his luck.

Wait. Since when was having a male for a Master lucky? He shook off the thought, handing Laurius the rest of his coconut.

Laurius shook his head. “I am completely unbothered by the idea that you cannot biologically understand love. Love makes people do stupid things.” There was an edge to his voice then, but he shook it off. He took up the dagger, and one of the last coconuts, and began to attempt to open it as she’d showed him. “She didn’t get one for herself,” he said.

Artisuren frowned at the way the stain on his bandaged hand seemed to spread as he bore down on the coconut. "Please drink this one... Master." He pushed his half-sipped coconut into Laurius's face and tried to swipe the one he was fussing with.

Laurius hesitated before handing the coconut over to Ren, then he turned the blade so that the handle faced him. “Don’t call me master,” he said. “Call me Laurius. You aren’t a slave, Ren…” But… he was, wasn’t he? A weapon to do as he bid? He’d need to think of a way to compensate him for his work—to make it fair. If it could be fair…

Ren's fingers fumbled and dropped the coconut. He couldn't call him master? "Of course I'm not a slave," he scoffed at the lowly rank. Did the term "master" infer slavery here? "But I'm your--...."

His sentence fell off. He was what? An Ivis and his Yurivis had very specific responsibilities to each other. Laurius was no Yurivis. Even if he was, he wouldn't know any of the rules. Was that why the closest thing he could imagine for Ren's purpose was a slave? At least slavery was its own form of social contract and had its own rules. A slave lost its free will in exchange for protection and survival, but Laurius didn't see him as that either. It was no wonder they kept frustrating each other.

At least Laurius seemed unwilling to lose his knife. That was his only contract for survival right now. Laurius provided the authority he needed to survive, and in return, he got to keep his treasured possession.

It was a flimsy insurance policy. People grew tired of their possessions all the time.

He closed his eyes, feeling angry for no reason. "Okay, M-... Laurius." He glowered at the fruit Laurius had been fussing with and drove his pointed nails into the groove Laurius had started. It wasn't a great sensation, but his claws held up against the abuse, and it felt satisfying to tear something apart. After tearing off a chunk of the rind, he plunked the fruit up against the fallen tree. "You're in the sun here. Can I move you to the shade?"

Laurius was looking at the fresh patch of blood on his bandage when Artisuren spoke. He winced at the sun. “Yes, but take that to the princess first.” He nodded to where Tenara was talking to Merry and Tabatha, passing them both coconuts. They grab them ravenously, and drank with glee. Tenara looked away, off to where Havitharon had gone with Lee.

Ren looked out after the princess and the way she was staring into the forest.

"You're in love with your phage, aren't you?"

Laurius had made love sound like a terrible burden. He wondered, idly, if it put her in any pain. "I'll return," he acknowledged Laurius's instructions.

He wasn't sure if the princess would expect his presence, so he stepped firmly in the sand as he approached her. "From Laurius," he said when he was beside her, and offered the fruit to her with both hands.

Tenara appraised Artisuren slowly and then took the fruit from him. “Tell him thank you,” she said softly, glancing past the being to the ginger man baking in the sun. “He should sit in the shade…” They all should, she thought. Her hair burned bright, like shimmering glass beneath the light.

Ren nodded slowly. "I was told I could move him after delivering this to you." He wanted to ask her more about the conversation earlier. She'd gotten angry at Laurius, but maybe that was because of something different. "How do you know you love Thvoros?" he tried.

Tenara averted her gaze a second, flustered by his question. How did she know she loved Thvor—Havi?

“I…” she pushed her hair behind her ear and wanted to flee into the woods. “I… don’t know how to explain.” Her already sun-kissed cheeks flushed darker. “I care about him. I want to be with him whenever I can. I fear for him, and trust him. It’s… it’s complicated.” The more she spoke, the more it sounded so akin to what Havi seemed to think being connected to a Yurivis was. “It’s warmth, and devotion without servitude—without blind obedience. It’s choice. It’s choosing to care with all you are…” Tenara felt frustrated because not even that answer felt right. It also felt like her feelings for Havitharon were on trial, or in question, and suddenly a defensive tightness wound in her chest. Explaining love made her wonder if she knew anything about it at all. She felt she loved Havi but she had also loved Rami—even if she hadn’t admitted to him or even to herself for so long. Tenara frowned. “It’s no one’s business but my own.”

She took her coconut and stalked off back towards the boat they’d tied off.

Artisuren paled as she suddenly grew upset. She was not his Yurivis, but overstepping his place in conversations was a failing Kishva had pointed out to him many times. To make matters worse, he understood less about love than before he'd started, except that it seemed painful and very, very important. Was it ok to just make peace with his ignorance, since his master had no need for it anyway?

The princess's displeasure was still like an icicle snaking up his spine when he finally returned to Laurius. "She drank," he informed him. Now, will you let me move you?"

Laurius had watched their interaction curiously. He could have almost read their conversation based on her lips and demeanor until it took a sour turn. He decided not to ask Artisuren what she'd said. He had a right to his own privacy—what little he had left. "Yes," he said. "Let's get out of the sun..."