The Brush Tiger of Derven Ch. 26-27

"I have a bath ready, Queen Namora and I shall help you out of your armor," the old woman offers with her eyes downcast.

Not going to object, Mora follows her through the winding halls; by the time they reach the large double doors, she realizes that they are at the royal chambers, the room where she watched her father die not that long ago. In her absence, the entire room has been redecorated, all of the blue now gone and everything is decked out in red. She follows the old woman past the antechamber, a large room that contains a grand fireplace, a big desk and a seating area complete with a few couches and several plush chairs. Beyond that lies the bed chamber; the room is vast with a massive four poster bed now covered in red drapes of velvet set before a huge fireplace. There is a small vanity beyond the bed, adjacent to a large paneled screen that provides a changing area and covers the view of a door leading to a deep closet. On the other side of the room is a smaller door that leads into a private wash room; complete with a small fireplace, a majority of the room is occupied by a large dark wooden tub, big enough to fit two adults.

Mora stops just shy of the wash room, next to the large wooden case that her armor came from. She holds her arms out to the side, letting the old woman remove the intricate pieces of leather and chainmail until finally leaving her in the leather underclothes. Eunice eyes the hole in the chainmail pants and the matching hole that leads to the healed white skin of her thigh, "I shall call the royal doctor, Queen Namora. Is there anything else?"

"No, thank you," she says softly, limping into the wash room.

She has to almost peel off the leather shirt and pants from her damp skin; Mora tries to ignore the sight of dirt, blood and bruises on the white flesh underneath. Instead, she painfully steps into the tub, sinking down into the warmth of the fragrant water, letting her body relax back. She knows if she puts it off, she will fall asleep so she quickly grabs a cloth and a bar of soap and washes her darkened skin, soaping up her long hair before she finally goes limp in the water and lets the tension of the past few days ease from her body.

Though she wishes to sleep, if even for a few minutes, her mind wanders. How many other secrets did her father keep from her? If a great man like him could have withheld such information, she starts to feel uneasy about what everyone else has hidden—Rick? Laren? Her mother? She never thought it possible before but she isn't sure she can entirely trust anyone at this point.

A soft knock on the door causes her to open her eyes; Eunice stands there, waiting, with a towel and a fresh underdress in her arms. With a sigh, Mora rises and climbs out of the tub—Eunice lets out a pained cry upon seeing Mora's bare bruised flesh. Ignoring it, Mora grabs the towel and hastily dries off before pulling the underdress on.

In the main ante chamber, the royal doctor waits nervously; he has only attended to the King before and there was never need for him to be of service to a sparsely dressed woman. Ignoring his prudence, Mora sits on the couch. The healer examines her hands, setting some broken fingers before wrapping them in a splint. Without reservation, Mora pulls her underdress off; the doctor's face turns bright red but he does the best he can to tend to her cuts, carefully wrapping them. He apologizes that he can't do anything to ease her broken ribs but suggests wrapping her torso in a large bandage, thinking the pressure should help. She does as he says and before long, he is gone.

Pulling the underdress back over her head, she prays Rick has the forethought to bring healing salves with him; while limping back to the bed chamber, she talks softly to Eunice, "I am going to rest for a while. I imagine later this afternoon, Prince Varickan from Sceadu will arrive. Please see to it that my old room is ready for him."

"Prince Varickan?" Eunice repeats, surprised, "I had heard that you met him but..." She trails off, not wanting to say anything to upset the Queen.

Offering a small smile to her handmaid before she climbs into her bed, she replies, "Thank you, Eunice."

The old woman bows slightly before hobbling out, pulling the door shut behind her.

Finally tucked within the safety of a bed, the comfort of the soft cushions and warm blanket pull her into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Several hours later, Mora is awakened; her eyes open to see Eunice walking out of the closet with a long flowing red dress; she sets it on the edge of the bed, "Word was sent ahead to the castle, your Highness; Prince Varickan's entourage just crossed into Derven land. They will be here in half an hour; I figured you would want to be ready."

Drawing in a deep breath, she pushes the covers back, "Yes, thank you." Mora doesn't object when the old woman helps her dress, brushes out her long brown hair and affixes the tall copper crown on top.

Mora makes her way slowly through the castle, her body stiff and still painful, her right hand still wrapped in the cream muslin bandage. By the time she reaches the door and takes up a position at the top of the stairs, she can see the royal black carriage weaving its way into town. It surprises her—she would have thought Rick would come on horseback. Fleetingly, she hopes that Sheynne isn't in the carriage as well, as she has no patience left to deal with the woman.

When it pulls closer, a smile crosses her lips; the carriage is manned by Lucas who appears small next to the massive frame of Eric. A horse trails behind, baring Sari. The black steeds come to a halt at the base of the steps; Eric jumps down and opens the door. Rick steps out, dressed head to toe in black. His polished boots reflect the failing afternoon light, pulled over his black slim pants; he wears a black shirt underneath a buttoned silk vest and over both a long black over coat. His golden blonde hair is elegantly brushed back behind his ears, the dark twisted metal branches of his crown gleans just above it. Though he glances around for a moment, once his eyes fall on Mora's, they don't leave.

She feels her heart beat faster, a soft smile touching her lips at the handsome man before her; while he ascends the stairs, she almost breathes a sigh of relief when Eric shuts the carriage door. Their three friends follow behind Rick, stopping once he reaches her. With a deep bow, he extends his hand; Mora places hers in it, her heart fluttering when he kisses the back, "It is good to be in your company once more, Queen Namora." He rises, frowning when he see her bandaged hand, "I have some salve in my chest," he offers.

She nods, motioning for a few servants; she requests rooms to be made for Eric, Sari and Lucas and for them to see to their things right away. Turning back towards the castle, she slips her arm into Rick's when he offers it, "Would you care to join me for dinner?"

"Of course," he replies, slightly glancing over his shoulder.

Mora turns and smiles at the three behind them, "All of you, that is."

When they reach the small dining room, Captain Franklin and Officer Jackson are waiting for them outside; both men bow slightly. Franklin straightens up a little taller when his eyes flicker towards Sari, before he looks back at Mora. Knowing he shouldn't speak in front of the guests, all he says is, "It is done."

"Thank you, Franklin," Mora replies, "Why don't you and Jackson join us for dinner?"

"Of course, your Majesty."

It is odd for Mora to sit at the head of the table, where her father always sat; Rick takes her old chair to the right, Franklin sitting to her left in Laren's usual seat next to Jackson, with the others filling in the empty chairs. A massive feast is laid out before them. Rick takes small portions of meat and a few other things, but not much in general. Though it is the first time Mora has seen him eat real food, she can see the questioning looks of Franklin and Jackson as to why he doesn't eat more.

"In a week, Prince Varickan and I will ride to Geofen," she says casually to the table. "You are more than welcome to remain here in the mean time, Lucas, Eric and Sari."

Lucas grins, "Thanks, Mo—I mean, Queen Namora."

"Thank you," Sari nods, also finding the title odd and cumbersome, "my Lady. I'm not sure if I will though, I was getting some odd looks from your townsfolk."

Mora chuckles, "That's because you're in pants, Sari. Women in Derven are much more modest than in Sceadu. We never wear pants in the company of men; I'd be happy to have a dress brought for you."

Sari's eyes go wide, "A dress."

Smirking, Mora continues, "Yes, a dress, but you must trust me—you will look wonderful in a dress."

Sari keeps her mouth shut and purses her lips.

"This might be silly of me to ask, but perhaps you could explain a bit of Derven to us?" Eric says, glancing at her; his eyes linger on her face for a moment, before he looks away, "This place is far different than I imagined it would be."

She nods in understanding, chewing on some vegetables while glancing to Franklin; he takes the cue and fills in as ambassador, something Laren usually handles, "The folk of Derven are quite different from the other countries. I suppose if you were to condense our essence down to just a few words, they would be: modest, hardworking, honest, selfless and stubborn. Men and women do not touch each other casually, outside of sharing a dance. We do not fight or brawl, nor are we quick to anger; all disagreements are talked through honestly and on the rare occasion a compromise cannot be made, it is taken to the King and Queen. Most of our citizens harvest wood or do a craft with it, though there are plenty others that farm or work with other trades. We mostly operate on a barter system." He thinks on it a bit more, before he glances to the men at the table, "We respect our women whole heartedly and treat them as equals." His eyes flicker at Mora before he turns back to the men and narrows them, "I am sure you have seen the Queen fight—all of our women are just as capable so don't do anything stupid."

Mora hides her laughter by taking a sip from her wine; Eric, on the other hand, shifts uncomfortably, "We all saw what your women could do on a battle field; I don't think their ability is anything anyone would question."

After they finish dinner, they gather in the small library across the hall; Jackson excuses himself, ready to spend time with his family. Franklin, on the other hand, takes the opportunity to talk with Sari. Lucas and Rick are discussing something, leaving Mora standing next to Eric on the far side of the room.

"I'd like to ask you something and have you be honest with me," Mora says.

"I've always been honest with you, Mora," Eric replies, "I'm sorry, I mean Queen Namora."

"When it is just us, or within this group, I am perfectly all right with you calling me Mora," she says, looking up at the man. His soft smile hits her with a pang of guilt; glancing away, she asks her question, "Why are you here, Eric?"

"I'm sorry?" He questions, confused.

"Why are you here? Did you come of your own choosing or did Queen Sheynne ask you to?"

"She wanted Rick to arrive in Derven with some guards. It took a lot of convincing for her to allow Sari and Lucas but she insisted on a Warden attending as well."

Mora huffs, "Afraid for his safety, is she? Or perhaps she wishes you to spy for her and Kelvin."

"She does," Eric says; when Mora turns to him, he adds, "for both. She worries about Rick around you. She is threatened by you; I can see it, even if no one else does. And yes, she asked me to spy for her and Kelvin. I am to let them know all that you do within the next week. Dell is set to meet me where the burwood tree fell, each night at midnight so that I can relay information to her."

Keeping her face blank, she continues looking at him, "You're not a very good spy, Eric. You realize, you are supposed to keep that kind of information a secret."

His bright green eyes remain locked on hers, "I am of Sceadu, through and through—in fact, this is the first time I have ever left my country. I am a creature of darkness, a Warden of the borders and yesterday I fought alongside my kinsmen against a tyrant, because it was a just cause." He takes a deep breath, drinking from the wine glass in his hand before he continues, "I want you to know that I am loyal to all that is Sceadu."

"I never doubted for a moment that you weren't," Mora says, glancing away from him.

"For a long time I have disagreed with the way Queen Sheynne ran our land; I understand the need for border security but killing innocent men, selling women into slavery? It is not right. She secludes us from the other countries, keeps them out and us in. With no one other than her to run things, there wasn't much for us to look forward to, no way to voice our malcontent. I am loyal to Sceadu," he motions towards Rick, "and now that you have spurred him into his birthright, you have given my country something to hope for. Your strength, your intelligence, your compassion did not go unnoticed by anyone at the Meadow; knowing that you two will unite, that our Prince will become your King and that someday, you will become our Queen has caused Sheynne and Kelvin a lot of discomfort."

Turning back to him, she sees the truth in his eyes, "Assure me you are not spying for her, Warden."

His gaze never waivers, "I am loyal to the future rulers of Sceadu; I will meet Dell but I will pass him no valuable information."

Nodding, she sighs, "From the moment I met her, Sheynne has had a manipulating hand in this; she intentionally placed me with her son, she set us up. She insisted my marriage to Irron be called off, she held me prisoner in her lands, she was the entire reason why war couldn't be avoided—yet all this seems to fall on me. I do not understand what her end game is."

Eric shakes his head, "She wants control of Alumenia."

Their conversation is cut short when Rick joins them; his eyes glance between the two, obviously curious about the pair, though he leaves his gaze on Mora and smiles warmly, "Franklin offered to take us to a tavern tonight."

Mora glances at Franklin, then back to Rick, her face slightly concerned, "Rick—here a tavern is just a tavern. There is absolutely no fighting—"

His laugh stops her, "We know; Lucas is eager to try some Derven ale."

Relieved, she smiles, "I am turning in for the night but please, have a good time."

Eric, taking the hint, bows his head slightly and follows the others out of the room. Rick drifts alongside Mora; by the time they reach the hallway, the others are already at the other end of it. He looks at her, his gaze lingering on her hand again, "I think I will turn in as well."

She catches the sparkle in his dark blue eyes; with a nod, she parts ways, leaving Rick as he heads towards her old bedroom. It doesn't take her long to reach the royal chambers; having bid Eunice goodnight earlier, she is alone in her room. Removing the crown, it is set on top of a bright red pillow on her vanity; it takes some effort to get the laces of her gown loosened but she manages to pull it off over her head and carefully drape it over the paneled divider before slipping on a deep red robe. Though it takes her a moment to recall where the entrance is, she finds the wooden panel that pops open when the hidden latch is depressed. Quickly, she weaves her way in and out of the dark passages, ending up just outside of the familiar one leading to her old bedroom. She presses her ear to the panel, listening for a moment before quietly easing it open; she is surprised that she beat Rick there. Securing the panel shut behind her, she waits silently behind the small dressing screen in the corner of the room.

A few moments later, the door opens and shuts. She hears him sit on the small chair and take his boots off; quietly, she drifts out from behind the screen. When he sees her, he immediately rises and crosses the room. Rick pulls her close, his lips finding hers in a fierce kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth. His arms constrict when his embrace tightens; Mora sucks in a gasp and winces. Rick instantly pulls away, his brows crinkled with concern. Eyes lingering on her face, he slowly unties the belt of her robe, pushing the dark fabric free of her shoulders. His hands carefully pulls her underdress up, sliding it over her arms and head before letting it drift down to the floor. A frown mars his face when he sees her bruised skin. Gently, he takes her uninjured hand and leads her to the bed.

Mora sits on the edge, watching him dig through the black wooden chest he brought with him. Rick pulls out a jar of salve and kneels before her; though she is naked, his eyes are focused on her damaged body as he carefully rubs the cream into her wounds. She watches his face darken slightly.

"Thank you," she offers as he unwraps her hand and takes it into his, massaging the salve into her broken fingers. Her entire body feels cool, the scent of lavender filling the air of the room, the pain finally melting away.

"You shouldn't thank me," his voice is angry but soft. "I did this to you."

"You had no control over yourself, Rick," she reminds him. "Besides, I know that I left plenty of bruises on you too."

"No, not like this. I was trying to kill you—you were trying not to kill me."

"I did kill you," she says. Cupping his cheek with her hand, she leans down and kisses him softly.

He sets the jar of salve down, his large hands resting on her bare thighs when he presses his lips back into hers. Mora slowly pulls away from him, shifting her body back further on the bed, her eyes watching his every movement. Rick rises to his feet, undressing before her; he slides his coat off, quickly unbuttoning his vest, letting it fall to the ground. Pulling off his shirt before tossing it aside, he unlaces his pants and pushes them down to the floor, standing naked before her.

Her gaze wanders over his wide muscled chest, noting the dark bruises on his tanned skin and the round scar over his heart. He steps forward, placing one knee upon the bed, followed by the other before stalking over her body. Rick hovers above her, leaning down, his lips gently brushing her cheek. His kisses tease her neck and collar bone, coming up her throat before meeting hers once again. Mora runs her fingers through his hair, holding him firmly against her mouth.

Rick's hand slides down the front of her body, his fingertips gliding over her pale mounds and across her stomach before vanishing from her skin; she feels him guiding himself to her, the pressure of his manhood against her wetness. He pulls free of her lips, his bright, almost glowing blue eyes staring deep into hers; slowly, he pushes forward. Mora gasps at the pain of her maidenhood giving way. When Rick stops to let her adjust, she tilts her head up, brushing her nose against his cheek before sucking his bottom lip into her mouth.

His breathing is quick, a soft moan escapes his lips. He trembles with restraint, carefully pressing his body into hers, going slow to give her time to accommodate his claim on her flesh. When she has taken it all, he eases the entire length all the way out before gliding back forward into their intimate embrace.

Mora focuses on the dark pleasure of the invasion despite the stinging pain it brings her; though he is gentle, her broken body still aches, but when he increases his speed the pain soon fades into the background, replaced by a burning tightness deep within her. She feels her need for more, her body wanting all that he can give her. Instinctively she raises her knees, wrapping her legs around his waist; with each full thrust his body presses firmly against her flesh. Muffling her mouth against his neck, she is surprised by the small, whimpering noises that come out and the deep, rumbling that echoes in his chest.