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GrandChildren |
Ce'Leste D'Riel
Va'Lan D'Riel
An'Lin D'Riel
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In the light of what had happened to Ash, Fadil had sent someone else to check the Aethyr Well for Y'Roden. He'd sat at his wife's side while her leg was healed, trying very hard not to blame himself, or feel guiltily glad that she'd be out of service for a few days yet while she recovered. They'd talked, exchanged the tales of their days, and when she'd fallen asleep, he'd left, his heart heavy.
He'd tracked Ro down again out in the gardens. Here, he could yet see no signs of that black, internal rot that Ash had told him of. "Y'Roden? She's asleep. She's alright, at least, she's alright for now."
He sat, and rubbed at his brow, not standing on ceremony with his king. "The tree she was in just gave way under her. It was completely rotten. The trees, the Wards, the aethyr... what's doing this, Ro? What could hurt the heart of S'Hea like this?"
“I have no idea,” the half-elf muttered, “I want the Rangers called in from patrol, after what happened to Bre’Dan I don’t want to take any chances.” He paused and scrubbed at the back of his neck, “At the same time, I don’t want to alarm the populace yet.” Taking a seat across from Fadil, Ro rested his palms on his knees and focused on the ground for a moment. “I may have to go to Arminiea… she may have answers that no one else can provide.”
Fadil winced, and nodded. "That's a good idea, I hadn't thought of that. If we can't make any headway here." He turned his head, frowning. There was a noise coming from back in the Palace that could only be described as a commotion. Probably B'Roden again, from the sound of it, but it was getting closer, so he got to his feet and discretely moved in front of Ro.
The little part of Ghet that wasn't completely strung out was kind of amused when the yelling changed from 'you can't come in here' to 'you can't go out there'. She didn't have time or patience for that crap, and there was one courtier lying on the ground clutching his groin because of it. She poured into the garden with a head of steam behind her and barrelled straight into Fadil.
They both started backwards. The look on Fadil's face was one of mingled disgust and shame; Ghet's, pure fear, a small animal whimper sounding in her throat. The encounter washed away her anger, leaving only the terrible, gnawing worry. She turned away from Fadil, removing him from her awareness, and stared at Ro. The look on his face told her he knew. "Ro, what the hell is going on? Why can't I..." Her face was anguished, full of fear. "Why doesn't it work?"
In another part of Windemiire Silverthorn's head went back as if she'd been struck. Her connection with her husband was wide open, as it generally was these days, and she became aware of the redhead's presence as soon as he did.
"Your Majesty... is something wrong?"
Jade eyes snapped back to the Lords sitting on the other side of the desk. "Other than usual, you mean?" she bit out, pushing a piece of parchment away from her.
"Your Majesty, protocol dictates that..."
The raven-haired elf let the words wash over in a meaningless drone of sound, her hand clenching into a fist beneath the wooden desktop until her knuckles showed white and her nails began to bite into her palms. "WHAT is she doing here?" The words were filled with barely repressed rage. The emotion filled her, drowning out everything else for an instant, shielding her from every other emotion that tried to bubble to the surface. Ghetsuhm had no right to just walk into someone else's home like that, no right at all.
Y’Roden stifled a groan and rubbed at his forehead for a moment. “Looking for answers, like everyone else. I… I’d apologise, but I certainly didn’t invite her here." Ghet had always been possessed with impeccable timing, and his wife’s temper was the last thing he needed riled up at the moment.
“Ghet,” the S’Hean King said as gently as he could manage, “you shouldn’t be here.” He didn’t bother getting to his feet, the half-elf intended on staying as far back from the redhead as he could manage. “In fact, the safest place for you right now is off this planet entirely,” Ro paused for a moment, his emerald gaze riveting on denim blue, “and take Rhagi with you. I don’t have any answers yet; I’ll send someone to you if and when I do. There is something wrong with the land, I would have forewarned you, but we only just discovered it ourselves.” His jaw clenched, he wanted to ask her questions, had there been any rot at her cabin? Any visible signs of S’Hea’s illness? Respect for his wife kept Ro’s mouth firmly closed, the most important thing at the moment was getting Mrs. Alcarin the hell out of Nenlante.
"Don't apologise. Get rid of her, Ro. If you don't, I will." Deep down inside the S'Hean Queen knew she wasn't being all that fair to her husband. That was about the one thing that stopped her screaming at him in blind anger; that he hadn't invited Ghet, he hadn't expected her to show up anymore than his wife had. That could not stop the sick fury rolling through the raven-haired woman, however. Her home was her haven, her refuge, and that someone she loathed as much as she did Ghetsuhm could just wander in whenever she pleased...
She took a deep breath, her jade eyes hardening into chips of green ice. Several Lords flinched away involuntarily, the current speaker faltering mid-speech. "She does not come here. Ever. Is that quite clear? She. Does. Not. Come. Here. I don't care how upset she is, or how many answers she wants. Never again. Not under any circumstances. If you're not willing to make that clear to her then I will."
Pained, Ghet put a hand to her head. The anger, frustration, was coming back, and she could barely hold it in in her current state. "Then what the hell am I supposed to do? Dammit, Ro, you know what will happen to me if we don't find an answer! You want me to go back to Alcarinque, get locked away in a tower to go crazy? Again? I will hurt people. Rhagi... surely he'd be safer here with you than anywhere near me when I..." She stopped, and all the blood ran out of her face as she stared at him, involuntarily taking a step backwards. Distress flared out of her before she could gather enough will to stop it. "Oh. Shit. For gods' sakes, let me help, Y'Roden. Don't make the same mistake twice."
She put her hands up over her face, tears starting. She had been so sure he could tell her what was wrong, that he could help her, and now she simply didn't know what to do. She didn't want to think about what would happen to Galain if she lost it completely, tied to her as he was. She was terrified of what she might do to her son, and also... for the first time in her life, she was genuinely afraid to die. There was a tide of grief for her son, who might find his mother a madwoman and his father a monster. Her voice when she spoke was much quieter, still underscored with pain. She did not understand how someone who had been one of her dearest friends for so many centuries could be so cold to her. "I'll take him, even if I have to leave him with Summerlin or... oh shit." She thought of Berelath, its ties to S'Hea. Melian and Elerina, Sum, Adarin, Mak was there right now, gods and all his siblings... "Let me help, Ro. Even if it's just to find something to lessen the effects, to buy time to find the answer. Who else do you know who can do what I can?"
A slow, steady inhalation did nothing to steady Y’Roden’s nerves. He had refused to think about what might happen if he got sick, the expression on Ghetsuhm’s face had been a harsh reminder. “You can’t stay here Ghet,” the half-elf repeated, “I’m sorry.” It was always a private hell for Ro, to see someone he cared about in pain. He had loved Ghet once, and still thought of her as a good friend. Circumstances hadn’t even left them that. His gravely baritone dropped to a barely audible tone, “This is Silverthorn’s home, I can hardly expect her to welcome you here anymore than you would welcome her in Alcarinque, regardless of the circumstances.”
He forced himself to look at her again and managed a nod, “I can’t refuse your help, I have to accept for the sake of my people, but the work cannot be done in Nenlante. Distance may keep you safe longer in any case. So far it only seems to have been contracted through direct contact with infected land. If you need a test subject I can give you Cor’Nar, he was there when Bre’Dan died… which placed him close to the blight.” His jaw locked for a moment, the nerve jumping in rapid fire succession, “send word if you find anything.”
His wife's voice in his head could only be described as abusive. Drow was a remarkably satisfying language to swear in even in its pure form. The bastardised hybrid that was Silverthorn's native Tauremornan dialect sounded even worse. "If she sets foot in this place for any reason whatsoever she'll be going home again in pieces."
Ghet's anger so evident it was making Fadil more than nervous. He'd make himself hurt her again if he had to, but it would tear him up. Ironic considering how much he hated her.
"Don't be stupid," Ghet told Ro, "and don't bloody insult me by ascribing your wife's ridiculous prejudices to me. You damn well know me better than that. Dammit, you know I will do whatever is necessary, no matter how I feel about it. I'd have An'Thaya in Alcarinque if it would actually help. I wouldn't like it but I'd still bloody do it, because the people I love and the people I serve come first. What have I ever done to hurt her, Ro? What? You stood by and let her destroy our friendship, you're not having my decency as well."
She held up a hand, lowering her head. "I'm sorry. I know that's not important now. Let me concentrate. Yes, I'll need a S'Hean. Pure blood. I've got me and Rhagi, but even with you, there are so many other factors. In case it's a toxin I'll need samples. Air, soil, water... how in hell do you sample aethyr? I'll have to leave that side of it to you. But dammit, I'm going to need to communicate. And you... I can find you something to help you keep it together, but if I'm not allowed near you, and there's no way you can leave... We'll need a go-between, someone who can actually explain and administer the drugs." She thought hard, her brain well into the problem now, everything else switched off. She could still turn on a dime. "Foxx. I'll send Foxx. Will that be okay, or does she have Ghet cooties? But in return..." She winced. She didn't want to say it, but she had to. "I won't risk her. If I think from what she says that it's getting too dangerous for her to attend you, I won't let her go." She shrugged. "That'll probably mean large applications of violence. She's quite hard to stop. Maybe I'll just get her really drunk."
She shot a glance at Fadil. He knew, and the hard way, too. "If. If He gets out... Last time you sent me away. And not only did I get hurt anyway, but a whole bunch of other people got hurt too. I know Silverthorn wasn't here then, maybe she can stop him, but if she doesn't..." She shrugged again. Fighting against this huge tide of irrationality was driving her to the point where she'd almost rather leave them all to screw themselves over and just worry about herself and her son. She couldn't do it. It just wasn't in her. "Just think it over. Don't answer me now, just think about it. Can I wait here for my son, or do I have to be shoved out the door right this second in case I rip all your clothes off?"
Y’Roden felt as if he had been crushed in a vice, as he did every time he was caught between his wife and his ex lover. It was clear to him who came first, but he wasn’t a truly malevolent person, and hurting Ghet was the last thing he wanted to do. He met her gaze steadily throughout her entire tirade, the expression in the depths of his eyes saying as much. Yes, Silverthorn had come between them… and he couldn’t, and wouldn’t change that. He loved Arianne too much to jeopardize their relationship. He’d do as she asked, no matter what it cost him. Ghet would know that… she knew what he was like, that once he settled on something, he gave everything to keep it.
A short bark of laughter escaped him after her last words, the half-elf’s twisted sense of humour getting the best of him, though he was fairly sure he was going to pay for it… one way or another. “I’ll send for him, he was with Drysi and Yseult the last time I checked on him. Cor’Nar will bring him to you… wait h…” The King’s sentence was cut off as the floating isle shuddered beneath their feet, nearly taking the massive half-elf to the ground. Mouth still partially opened, he twisted to look behind him, emerald eyes popping wide as the draconic form of Callan Blackthorn bore down on them. “SKRUN!” Spinning about Ro launched forward, catching both Ghet and Fadil in heavily muscled arms as he hit the ground and rolled, the trio crashing through a rose bush and tumbling across an open grassy area before crashing into a marble fountain.
Ghet had been about to tell him she could send for her own damn son - she was connected to the Web and there wasn't a damn thing Silverthorn could do about that. Rhagi would have known she was here from the instant she arrived. Anger slowed her reactions; she was still trying to work out what the hell was happening, if the shaking of the ground was some new manifestation of S'Hea's illness, when Ro slammed into her and she was flying, then landing, the breath knocked out of her as her back slammed into the fountain. "You," she wheezed, removing a hand from where she'd instinctively grabbed his arms and rubbing her ribs, "have a damn strange way of kicking a girl out, you know that? How long do you think you can touch me before your wife spontaneously combusts?" She blushed, looking up, getting a grasp on the situation for the first time. "Thank you, though. I really have no wish to be crushed under Callan. These days."
She pushed away and got gingerly to her feet, mostly because she simply could not bear to be that close to Fadil. Her skin was crawling like crazy. "Oh crap," she muttered to herself, "I make one slightly exaggerated assertion to make a point, it lands in my lap." The sight of Callan and An'Thaya brought a whirl of emotions she simply could not sort through.
Fadil was on his feet slightly before Ghet, disturbed by the remnant of camaraderie he heard between Ro and his ex-lover, the woman who, as far as Fadil was concerned, had nearly destroyed him. But the new threat turned out to be no threat, but a friend. Funny how it was so frequently difficult to tell.
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