I’m tired, Marrow. I hurt. I miss my son. I’ve gotten us all captured. I’m hungry. I think I’m still a touch hung over, and my closest friend has more interest in maps than anything I have to say. Please, just this once, allow me to be melodramatic and not make fun of me for it, Jala returned in a voice filled with misery.
Such a heartfelt plea I think I might have actually had mercy for you had you thought to make the request before I had already made fun of you. Pity, I suppose we will have to make a rain check on that one and I will continue to prod you for your current whininess, Marrow’s tone was light and mocking and for a moment she was hurt until she realized what he was doing.
You are trying to piss me off, Jala accused in an indignant tone.
Piss you off, make you laugh, distract you. I would take any of those options over your pain, Jala. I feel what you feel, remember. I may not share the sentiments exactly, but I do share them. I miss him, too, Jala. He was my friend as well. Now is not the time for it though. You are in your enemy’s lair, Jala, and you are cowering on the carpet like a frightened hare. You are not weak. You are not timid. Get up and let all who see you know you are Bendazzi.
There is no one in the room to impress Marrow. I don’t need to worry yet, Jala assured him, her forehead still planted firmly on her knees. Each crack of thunder from the storm outside seemed an accusation and made her want to curl into a tighter ball.
Just because you don’t see them, Jala, doesn’t mean they don’t see you, Marrow warned and she had to agree with his logic. Had she been in Kithvaryn’s place she would likely spy a bit before entering. It did explain his delayed arrival nicely.
Perhaps he thinks I am simply resting. I did get shipwrecked and whacked in the head, Jala countered.
And if that’s all that it takes to bring you low, he shouldn’t have to see you as a threat, Marrow pressed.
Well in my bloody defense I did just lift a curse and resurrect a nation. I think I’m allowed to be a bit woozy, Jala snapped back then tensed as she felt a hand settle on her shoulder gently. Raising her head slowly she met Valor’s blue eyes with a questioning look. He was kneeling in front of her with his head bent toward her and concern was written clearly on his face.
“Are you OK?” Valor asked softly, his voice absent of the anger that had been lacing it since the ship. She nodded silently, unwilling to speak. “You make it impossible to stay mad, you know that. I want to rail at you. I want to shake some sense into you. Then I see you sitting like this for so long and all of that fades and all I want to do is make sure you are OK.” His voice was low, barely above a whisper as if he didn’t want anyone else in the room to hear his words.
Jala could hear the storm outside slackening as the driving rain slowed and the lightning began to subside. Valor continued to kneel in front of her, watching her carefully, his expression growing more concerned with her silence. Leaning forward a bit she rested her forehead against his shoulder and closed her eyes once more. “I don’t want any of this, Valor. I want to go home. I want to see my son and I want to grieve for my husband. I don’t want war and I don’t want to negotiate with people.” Leaning back, she met his eyes once more and held his gaze. “Most of all I never want to hear the sound of thunder when you look at me again. I don’t want to ever know that you are so angry at me that it requires the use of the heavens to voice it.”
“I didn’t do that intentionally, Jala,” Valor admitted with a faint smirk. “Trust me, I had no desire to be in a blizzard or try to navigate a ship through that. Honestly, I don’t even truly know how I did it. My magic has been strange since you siphoned from me. It’s a hell of a lot more powerful than I remember it being.”
Jala frowned slightly as she remembered the barrier she had encountered in Valor the day she had siphoned magic directly from him. The magic that had poured forth once she had brought the barrier down had been intoxicating, far beyond what she had expected from him. “I, uhh, well I may have bypassed a barrier and well, it’s complicated,” she muttered, trying to decide how best to explain what she had done or even if she should explain it.
The sound of the door opening spared her from trying to find the proper words. Valor rose quickly at the sound and pulled her to her feet beside him. Kithvaryn entered the room silently and closed the door softly behind him before moving to sit in an overstuffed chair near the wall showcasing the vast weapon collection.
“I apologize for my delay. It took me quite a while to convince Kara that I did not actually plan to execute any of you,” Kithvaryn said at last as he quite openly studied them. “Do not, however, take that as a promising sign. I am a man of logic and all three of you are worth coin. It would be a waste to simply kill you,” he added after a moment’s pause.
“You do realize that two of the three children you are considering as hostages are my blood relations, don’t you Kith?” Vaze murmured quietly a faint smile tracing across his lips.
Kithvaryn raised an eyebrow and surveyed them again with more interest before turning his attention to Vaze with a wide smile on his face. “I do believe that makes them more valuable, Fionaveir. You are a councilor among the rebels after all,” Kithvaryn paused, his eyes roving over his guests once more and raised a finger to his lips tapping thoughtfully. “It’s not the Avanti boy, of that I’m certain. I had no idea however that you shared blood with the Hai’dia though.”
“On my mother’s side. Jala is my niece through my father’s line,” Vaze explained in a conversational voice. If he was the slightest bit offended by Kithvaryn’s suggestion of more money, he didn’t show it. “Just saying, Kith. If you already have it set in your mind to sell them off to the highest bidder, let me know now.”