Fire Ch. 12

The girl held up a hand, muttering that she was fine just as he came within arms reach. He paused again at her words, long enough to see the arm around her waist tighten in a way that was clearly possessive, even as the other hand raised to cradle the back of her head gently against the man's shoulder. Othwyn was torn, but his sense of self-preservation, caused by that damned inhuman glare, coupled with her words kept him from coming any closer. Still...he didn't like it, and he shifted his weight instinctively, dropping it to his back leg and his right hand twitched before he could stop it. They were obviously lovers as there was nothing even remotely fraternal about the way the assassin was holding her against him, but there are men who are cruel to their women, something Othwyn had never stomached with patience. This was especially true with a woman who, even though he'd known her so briefly, he'd come to admire and feel a sort of affectionate regard for—not shocking considering he had thought to wed the woman.

The next question was directed towards her, and the burning glare he was still receiving from her protective companion ignored to the extent that it didn't keep the words from issuing forth. He watched her carefully to catch sight of her face.

"Did he hurt you?" As if he could do anything about it if he had, Othwyn thought bitterly. He had not forgotten the Assassins performance in the courtyard when he had first arrived. But logic be damned, if he must at least try, than he must. Code of honor, and all that bull.

She responded with a low, and to his ears, humourless sounding laugh, a sound well suited to his own mood, and shook her head, still hiding her visage from his eyes.

"Hardly." She then pulled away, turning her back to both of them. They watched in silence as she crossed the room and moved to a side table to lean over a water basin and wash her face.

Othwyns eyes glanced back to Jairus and noticed telling blotches of pinkish-red staining his shirt where her head had rested. When he turned his narrowed eyes upward he found the assassin giving him another version of that chilling stare once more as he reached up and very deliberately tugged his cloak down over his shoulder, covering the stains, and daring Othwyn to do or say anything about it.

The fact was he was tempted, but the girl had turned to face them again, and there was no sign of violence there, just exhaustion and sorrow. He searched her face carefully, looking for the source of the blood he knew he'd seen...but there was nothing, not a scratch or even a hint of a bruise.

The assassin was still watching silently as Othwyn glanced back toward him with an acknowledging grunt. Fine...it said, you win. That seemed enough and the glare became slightly less intense. They shifted their attentions back to Thea at the same time, and she looked uncomfortably between the two of them.

He cleared his throat. "I came to let you know the siege is officially ended so we're no longer on high alert...my men have routed and rounded up the remains of Darius's men and everyone is free to come and go as they please once more." He grunted again and looked askance at the assassin. "Though after your little show, few of the survivors lingered for very long, and I doubt they'll return if they escaped." His tone was sardonic, and it was answered with a similarly sardonic smirk and head tilt of acknowledgment from the assassin.

Othwyn licked his suddenly dry lips. He had come to speak with her on another matter as well, not entirely expecting to find Jairus there. But it was probably a moot point now. He had wanted to reiterate his proposal, and to offer her the opportunity to join him once more. He'd be glad to have her, most assuredly so, and he'd been hopeful that she might still be interested since she'd not made a flat refusal the first time he'd mentioned it to her. Though now he was seriously reconsidering it.

To hell with it, what was the worst thing that could happen? He'd have his lungs ripped out. The best? She'd say yes, the assassin would miraculously disappear, and he'd have himself an attractive and interesting wife. Odds were in favor of lung removal...but, hell, with the siege over and won so quickly. he was feeling lucky. Maybe he'd get off with a light pummeling.

He smiled mildly at the two of them and moved to a nearby chair in front of the fire, plunking himself down in it and crossing an ankle casually over his knee. Thea moved in his direction, her expression one of curiosity and mild surprise as she crossed her arms in front of her and leaned against the mantle. He couldn't see him, but he was pretty sure the assassin was still standing exactly where he'd left him. Probably glowering up a storm too. Well, let him. Besides, it was better that way, he wouldn't have to see the son of a bitch coming when the prick finally did him in.

Othwyn smiled warmly up at Thea. "I also wanted to let you know you're welcome to stay as long as you like, regardless..." he leaned forward and looked back around the chair at Jarius, "both of you, of course."

"How kind."

He couldn't help but continue to smile at the dryness in both the man's voice and expression, though it was significantly less warm. His smile faded and he sighed, turning back to Thea.

"Also, I wanted you to know my offer still stands."

"Offer?" She frowned at him in confusion. He chuckled.

"My dear you're very hard on a man's ego. My offer of marriage of course." She blinked, then looked embarrassed, her eyes subtly shifting towards Jarius.

"Oh...ah, yes...of course..." she blinked again looking fearful, "I mean not...that is..." He stopped her by raising a hand, laughing. She was actually quite charming when flustered.

"You need not answer now...or at all for that matter. I won't be offended. I'd like us to be friends either way...I just wanted you to know of your options...your alternatives...if you were considering them." She flushed and looked away from them both and toward the fire place.

"I see." She whispered softly.

There was a long moment of very uncomfortable silence which he felt obliged to break and did so with an air clearing cough and another warm, though slightly forced, smile.

"Really, though, I am sincere when I say that though I'd be most pleased if you'd stay, I will not be overly hurt or upset if you do not. After all it is often said by my people: Thaet mon eathe tosliteth thaette naefre gesomnad waes." He grinned toothily at her. The assassin finally joined them, looking speculatively down at Othwyn. Thea only frowned in confusion.

"What does it mean?" she asked, tilting her head. Othwyn was about to repeat it for her when the assassin interrupted.

"It is an easy thing to divide that which was never united."

"Indeed. A phrase popular with both lovers and warriors...as the tactics in both endeavors can look shockingly similar." He slapped his palms lightly on the arm rests, feeling a little bit cheerier now that he was more or less sure his lungs were going to see it through the evening unscathed, and stood. "I brought you back your necklace and dagger as well. I probably should have given it to you before the fight started but I was distracted by the hulabaloo, and it honestly hadn't occurred to me that you might find it useful. Though all things considered, it really should have." He pulled the blade and sheathe out from under his cloak where it had been tucked under his belt, and handed it to her.

She looked at it like it was a live snake and made no move to reach for it. She did, however, reach for the necklace which appeared in his other hand. Her expression shifted from poorly hidden fear at the sight of the blade, to something sweeter, though perhaps rather sorrowful as well. Another strange tension filled the room and he glanced at the assassin for some sign as to what he'd seemingly stepped into, but the man only had eyes for Thea, and was watching her intently. She wasn't much help either. She just stood staring down at the thing in her hands with this strange look of yearning dancing in her eyes. He knew that she wasn't very good at hiding her thoughts, but he was used to seeing nothing but anger and hard defiance, so this was most curious.

He cleared his throat after he felt sufficient time had been passed in uncomfortable silence.

"Won't you be wanting the blade back?" he asked, nodding to the blade she'd passed over, "It's yours by right, being passed down from one heir to another." He turned it in his palm to examine it, running a hand over the sheath. "Though it was long thought to be lost. It's a wonder how your father came by it...or whoever before him had." He looked back up at her and found her attention back on him. Her expressive face now registered confusion and she tilted her head endearingly, like a bemused pup. He smiled and chuckled.

"I did recognize it, yes." He replied, answering the unspoken question. But she blinked and shook her head.

"N-no, ah, no...it's not mine." It was his turn to look confused.

"Not yours? This was the knife you wore was it not?" He asked, knowing full well it was. He'd hardly have confused such a unique dagger with some other more banal piece. Who could?

She nodded, though her forehead crinkled in thought, and a few more dark and indecipherable emotions skittered across her features before they settled back into something like calm indifference. She also cleared her throat and nodded toward the assasin without looking at him.

"It's Jairus's. He...lent it to me."

Now that was a interesting turn of events. "You don't say?" he murmured softly. His eyes were already meeting the assassins and he turned and slowly offered the blade up to him, an arched expression of 'care to explain' on his face. Of course he didn't expect much of an answer, but what could it hurt to ask...or at least hint...

"This is the ceremonial blade from Thea's house. They'd ruled these northern steps for literally dozens of generations. Before it was lost it was one of the symbols of ruler-ship, past to the heir the day he experiences his first kill and becomes a man."

"I know."

Well, it was more answer than he expected. Jairus didn't take the blade from him, and surprisingly, kept talking. "It's hers if she wants it. No one could rightfully...or reasonably, object."

Othwyn felt the fool holding the thing out, so he lowered his hand as they both turned to her for a response. She looked back at them, from one to the other, her eyes settling finally, and he sensed, meaningfully on Jairus. There was another long, awkward pause. It was for him at least. These two oddities seemed content to stand and stare at one another as if they had all day and night, to do so.

Finally, after an excruciating silence she shook her head. Her voice was low and soft, almost breathy.

"No. I don't."

There was another pause and Othwyn was stealing himself for another painful bought of meaningful silence when Thea screwed up her face in distaste.

She looked back at him with a comical half sneer of disbelief. "Experiences his fist kill? THAT's how you people define manhood? That's utterly repugnant." She looked like she was going to say something else but only let out a disgusted sound and shook her head.

He couldn't help it. He laughed. She looked like she'd just sucked on something sour and rotten. He couldn't help but notice the assassin had also allowed himself a lip twitch as well.

"It is." She insisted. Othwyn nodded and reigned in his chuckle.

"Yes. It is rather, isn't it." He agreed.

The bubble of tension hadn't burst completely, but it had certainly lessened. She eyed him thoughtfully and a gentle smile appeared finally on her face. It was odd to see...it was perhaps the first time he'd seen her smile. The effect was unnerving. Not in the way it was with Jairus. When that man smiled it gave you the chills...it had this knowing, predatory quality, even when you couldn't see the teeth. With her it had the opposite effect and softened her whole face, and made her eyes glow warmly. She was no longer the striking, intelligent, and potentially dangerous woman he'd come to know in their brief acquaintance, but a sweet, pretty girl. She opened her mouth to speak, then quailed, her eyes darting shyly back to Jairus. Yes...shyly, another thing he had not ever expected to see from her. Jairus returned her look with something that might have been a smile...but it was too faint to tell, and tipped his head in a bowing fashion. She nodded and took a deep breath.

"You keep it. It's fitting for you to have it if it signifies ruler-ship."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "You're sure? It's worth a lot..."

She smiled at him again and nodded. "I'm positive." Othwyn cast a quick glance toward the assassin, but he was no help and just stood there staring back at him with that impassive expression that may or may not be hiding what may or may not be a smile. Damn but that man was exhausting. Othwyn shrugged it off and smiled back at her.

"Then I'd be honored." There was a brief and warmer pause before the not so comfortable pause began to reassert itself. He realized he had nothing let to say...and it was unlikely that anyone in the room had actually forgotten the fact that he'd interrupted them in the middle of what ever they were in the middle of. It was a sobering thought and the slight chill returned to the room. He nodded, as much to himself as anyone else and stepped forward, and placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned in to kiss her cheek. When he pulled away and saw her look of surprise and slight blush, he grinned. "If you need anything, any time, just let me know."

He patted her arm and turned away only to find himself face to face with the assassin, and only barley resisted the urge to gasp. He did stiffen and cock a brow at the man, who returned the gesture, his lip twitching slightly again. Then, to Othwyns unending surprise, he offered his hand. He was so surprised by the motion, that he simply stared at the proffered hand at first. He did finally school himself, but it wasn't until he felt those icy fingers around his own that he was shaken out of his stunned haze. They shook once, nodded curtly, and Othwyn made to leave...but paused at the door as a question suddenly popped into his head.

He turned to Jairus and tipped his head. "You know...would you mind if I ask how you came across that blade?" The assassin gave him one of those eerie, knowing smiles and Othwyn repressed a shudder.

"Not at all. It was a family heirloom...passed down for generations." Othwyn frowned at that and turned to Thea, who had raised a hand to her mouth, not in shock, but to cover her own smile.

"Th...but that..." he paused frowning when another thought occurred to him. Jairus...his name was Jairus...no...it couldn't be...

He looked at the man speculatively. Hell. "That knife disappeared when one of the early heirs vanished with it...he was said to be a trai-" He paused when the man's smile turned into a smirk, and Othwyn caught himself. He might be touchy about having his line besmirched after all. "You're from that line aren't you?"

He merely nodded.

"Well I'll be damned." He paused again wondering at another question...then decided to risk asking, the suspense would kill him if the assassin didn't. "How the hell did you two come to know each other then?"

Thea answered this time. "He happened upon me in the woods near my village one evening, unexpectedly. I...was in a bit of a bind," she chuckled softly at some private joke, one that earned another twitch-smile from Jairus, "and he helped me out of it."

He left shaking his head. It was a strange bloody world.

**

Thea watched the door after Othwyn left, feeling the tension fill the room once more, creeping over her skin and seeping into every muscle and bone until she was feeling as tight and brittle as a hide left too long in the sun. She felt Jairus watching her, but couldn't bring herself to look back. The spell had been broken when Othwyn entered, and she wasn't sure what to do now that she'd made a gesture so at odds with her earlier decision to stay. Her instincts were suddenly at war with that nagging little voice in the back of her head. They both wanted her to run, but in utterly different directions. Eventually one voice out screamed the other in her mind and she found herself moving toward the door, force of will alone ripping her from where she'd stood rooted with indecision and her step faltering as she tore herself apart with the action. She opened the door and waited, trying to ignore the fact that the necklace was still clenched tightly in her hand, to ignore the screaming desire to close and lock that door instead. To lose herself.

But she couldn't. Why should it be so easy...and why should she have what she wanted, the little voice whispered, and let's not forget how dangerous that desired thing is, how easily it can destroy you...how weak it makes you...

It was him, after all, who'd said it would be foolish not to accept Othwyn's offer.

For a moment she thought she might be sick. She was shaken from her daze as the door was wrenched from her hand and slammed hard. Locked. Thea looked up into those dark eyes, drowning in their heat even as she fought the urge to let herself come undone and melt into them willingly, eagerly.

"What are you doing 'Thea?" he growled, jolting her back into the close walls of her own cool skin.

"What...what do you mean?"

"You don't want this."

She frowned and back away, her uncertainty building rapidly into something else. "How do you know what I wa—"

He shook his head. "No."

"No?"

"No."

He strode toward her and she pulled away, but not quickly enough. His hands caught her arms and hauled her against him, his fingers digging roughly into her flesh.

"I've changed my mind. There will be no waiting, no time for adjustment. I won't wait."

She inhaled sharply, her uncertainty wavering, but still strong enough to keep her from struggling. What was he saying?

"I'm leaving, and you're coming with me." He said it with an air of finality that finally forced her out of her dazed shock.

"W-what? No! You can't...what do you..." She wrenched her arm and fought to get out of his grip, but he held her too tightly. Her cry of objection was cut short as his mouth came down over hers, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth. She responded instinctively and kissed him back before she knew what she was doing. Her own whimpering alerted her to what she was happening, and she tore her mouth away, irritated at his use of the old trick, and furious that it had worked. She managed to pull away enough to let him see her fury, only to have him capture her jaw in his fingers and force her mouth back to his.

She didn't forget herself this time and used his distraction to lash out at him. She ripped one arm free as she pushed away and backhanded him with enough force and speed that he was unable to catch her arm in time. He was momentarily stunned, releasing her and allowing her to stumble back and gain her footing.

His eyes were on fire, and his fangs fully bared in a dangerous snarl as he watch her skirt away.

She felt her own teeth lengthen as a surge of something indescribable ran up the length of her spine and through her limbs. To her surprise, it wasn't fear. She snarled back, and allowed whatever it was to wash over her. It felt...good, and she felt powerful, energized....and needful...though of what, she couldn't say. The little voice was silenced and instead of fleeing, her instinct told her to move forward...to lunge for him. She did and he was more than ready for her.

It happened so quickly she didn't know what had happened until she landed on the bed, hitting it on her side. But she was quick to get her bearings and rolled up onto her hands and knees, not caring what she looked like, only feeling a sudden and overwhelming urge to have his throat under her mouth...to feel her fangs sliding into his flesh. The thought caused a low moan to escape her throat as she sunk deeper into the red heat coursing through her veins and filling her mind.