Heirot

Vlad took a deep breath and focused on the fact that she did, in fact, seem to feel much better than before. Her strong pulse was as reassuring as her hands against him. Atul didn't sound great, but he was going to live. He told himself it could be worse. One or both of them could have died. It didn't make him feel better.

He extended his thoughts through the link into Tenele. Her body was smelling more and more familiar by the minute as it assimilated the king's blood. Atul, too, was beginning to carry the scent of power again. It would take time. He could be patient.

"I love you. Both of you," he said. "I'm so sorry to have hurt you."

Tenele pressed her cheek against his hair. What could she say? That she forgave him? Then, that would bring attention to the fact that he had hurt her. But, she wanted to forgive him. She'd already forgiven him. She wasn't sure when. Maybe the moment the fear had eased enough to think rationally. "Its okay. We are not upset with you." she told him softly. "I'm okay. He's okay. Everything is fine now. Please, don't be upset."

Atul frowned, and shifted closer to Vlad. He twisted his body so that he could drape his arm across Vlad's back. "We make mistakes, Vlad. But, those who love us always forgive. That is what it means to love. I love you. You are my friend. You are my lover. I know you, and I do not blame you and I am not angry with you. And Tenele's heart is yours forever, as is mine. We have a bond that is not easily broken."

Vlad put his arms around Tenele, stroking her back soothingly with cool fingertips. "I'm relieved you are well. Very relieved," he whispered affectionately into her hair. In his heart, he wasn't ready to accept her forgiveness, though he felt glad she was willing to offer it. He could feel that she really wanted him to accept it. But there was just no way...he could see no way of coming back from what he'd done. He kept the feeling as close to his chest as he could, for once uncomfortable with the transparency of their link. There was no point in worrying her right now. No excuse in harming her any further.

Tenele nodded. She closed her eyes and let herself lean fully against him. They sat quietly like that for several long minutes, with Tenele's strong heart thrumming loud enough to feel against his chest. Atul curled around them, and found himself nodding off into one of his power naps. The sign that he had finally fallen into it was when his hand stopped its gentle rubbing across Vlad's knee.

"He's sleeping," she muttered, her arms wrapping tighter around her husband. "I feel too wired to sleep, though I'm sure the rest would do us both good. Do you want to rest?"

"No need," Vlad said, leaning back to look into her eyes. Your body is doing more work than you think it is, incorporating his blood as its own. You may not necessarily need sleep, but I wouldn't push it too hard for the time being." He glanced to Atul, coiled around them. His fingers stroked the side of his head. "Maybe now is a time for that bath," he suggested.

Tenele nodded. "I think a bath would be a good idea." She drew her dress up to her knees, revealing the bandaging around her legs. She slowly worked with it until each slender leg was free from it. Her hands smoothed over the skin, thankful that Atul's blood had healed them. Thankful for no scarring. She wondered if Vlad would have found her beautiful still with her flash gnarled with scars.

Tenele pursed her lips together and lowered her eyes. She couldn't tell if Vlad's suggestion was for the both of him, or if he wanted her to take the bath alone. His mood felt strange, and she couldn't put her finger on it. She couldn't tell why he felt both withdrawn and inviting.

"Do you want to come with me?" she asked, almost sheepishly. Her green eyes fluttered up, searching for his gaze.

Vlad grinned at her. "I said nothing strenuous," he teased a little calmer than usual.

Tenele smirked as she slipped out of bed. "I wasn't expecting strenuous..." she admitted, stepping slowly away from the bed. "If you change your mind..."

Tenele slipped off to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She drained the cool water that the maids had drawn for her, and replaced it with steaming hot water. It seemed odd that she would have a craving for hot water after all the problems she'd had with heat recently, but it seemed the water did just the trick for her nerves. She settled into the large tub, up to her neck, brushing rose petal soap across her skin.

Vlad looked at the closed bathroom door. He could feel Tenele's comfort as she sank into the water. He considered going in with her, but didn't move. He should give her some space. She couldn't be mad at him when he was right in front of her. With some space, she could be free to react to what had happened in whatever way she needed to. As much as he dreaded her anger or even resentment against him, he also disliked the thought of her pity. Feeling her worry about him at a time like this felt like the worst kind of selfishness.

He looked down at Atul and lifted him gently under the shoulders, sliding him back up to the pillow. He tucked his friend into the blankets and checked the circulation on each of his limbs to be sure everything was returning to normal. When there was nothing left to coddle and no remaining excuse to stay away from the bathroom, he stood and walked to the window. His gaze swept over the pale-sand horizon, blindingly bright with the reflection of the clear sky. Then he looked down, at the courtyard in front of the palace. His thoughts froze. He tilted his head and looked harder. "Tenele," he murmured.

"Tenele!" he burst into the bathroom, urgency lighting up his features. He took in the sight of her in the tub, her cheeks healthy and rosy from the heat, and she'd never been prettier to him. Focusing, he crossed to her side and grabbed a towel from beside the tub. "There is something you should see."

Tenele jumped at his sudden entrance. "What is it?" she asked, wondering what had got him all excited. She took the towel from him and drew it around her body, under her arms. She placed a hand on his shoulder to steady her as she stepped out of the tub next to him.

Vlad took a hand towel and dried her upper back and arms with loving urgency while guiding her into the bedroom. They were halfway to the window when a slow, mellow chant rose up from outside, quietly spoken from many many lips. The words were unfamiliar, except for the lamenting but softly beautiful refrain. "Attara, Attara seng vi lirrestad."

They reached the window and looked out. In the square below, hundreds, possibly thousands, were grouped in a long line that became more of a crowd than an organized file as it reached the back of the block and ran out of room. They were singing, or chanting, in a solemn prayer. In their arms were objects, which Vlad couldn't quite make out. Rocks? No, statues. Idols. He looked to the front of the line, and noticed what he hadn't seen before. A pile. A pile of totems, idles, tomes, all in Verin's image. One by one, like a ritual, each person in line was discarding their artifacts into a heap before the palace, all the while praying and singing.

"My love...I believe they are here to see you," Vlad said, fascinated.

Tenele's brow furrowed as she watched the people give up their possessions. Her steely resolve melted as she listened to them sing, and it visible washed away from her, like someone lifting a heavy weight from her shoulders. "For me," she whispered, pressing a hand to the glass. "For Attara. For my mother." But, Tenele knew that the people of Hajara thought that she was the embodiment of Attara. They were begging her forgiveness.

"Should I go down to them? What should I do? I'm not good at being a Goddess."

"It is your choice," Vlad said. "But I suspect they will not leave until they have seen you."

Tenele nodded. "Then, I will greet them..." She felt a nervous flutter run through her, and she headed for the door. But, less than halfway there she remembered that she lacked any sort of clothing. Quickly Tenele drew open the wardrobe and dug until she found a comfortable and modest dress. She drew it on, lacing the proper strings and buttons before dawning a pair of comfortable flats.

Again, Tenele felt this odd tension, where she wasn't sure what Vlad intended to do. She never had to question him, always seeming to know by what he said, or rather how he said it, exactly what he wanted.

"I'm going," she told him, knowing that if he intended to follow her down, he would. She turned for the door.

Vlad made his way immediately alongside her as she descended the steps. He was still a mess from the trip to Ida, but he could care less about vanity in front of the people who tried to murder his wife. Still, his attitude toward them wasn't quite anger as he stayed at Tenele's side. Just wariness. Alert and protective, he was close at hand as they appeared at the front doors. The guards nodded to them without hesitation, as if expecting them, and opened the huge gates to expose them to the crowd outside.

The square went silent. Thousands of eyes fixed on the silver-haired woman standing in the door way. Watching and waiting, for some sort of cue from her.