by D. E. Morris
“Don't go.”
She wasn't sure what to say for a moment, simply because she didn't know what he was talking about. As she stood there looking at him, it slowly dawned on her and she felt a great deal of emotions all at once. She was confused as to why he cared if she went, as to why he cared so much. She was touched that he cared at all. He'd been so kind to her since the explosion that she often wondered if he did so out of pity, which only made her feel bitter in the end. Before she could get to that point this time, he took a step closer to her, standing in her doorway and making her take an instinctive step back with widened eyes. “Don't go.”
“You cannot come in here, Niam. This is not appropriate.”
“I won't cross the threshold. You can still shut the door in my face if you want, but I hope you won't.”
She exhaled softly. “Why are you here?”
“Because I'm worried about you. Because it isn't safe. Because if you leave, I can't...” His brows came together as though the words he wanted to say pained him too much. When he looked away from her, his gaze dropped to the floor and he shook his head. “You've already been through so much.”
“What were you going to say? Just now, there was more. What was it?”
He fidgeted and ran a hand through his hair. “I can't protect you. If you go with them to Cieria, I can't protect you, and I feel like that is what I have to do.” He flinched as though realizing the way his words sounded. “It's what I want to do.”
Mairead shook her head, truly at a loss. “Why? I am not royalty. I bear no great family name or promise of a large dowry. Niam, I am no one.”
“Not to me.”
His words were quiet, but she heard them loud and clear. Still, she did not understand them. “Why?” she asked again. Her hand lifted to touch the scars that ran down the side of her face. The motion made irritation flicker across Niam's features.
“The very first moment I saw you, I felt an inexplicable pull toward you. I saw yours scars and I didn't care. They were part of you, just like mine are part of me. If you think they detract from your beauty, you're wrong. They make you more beautiful because they have a part in making you who you are. They're part of your story. I can't explain why you consume my thoughts or why I want nothing more than to keep you safe, to make sure nothing ever hurts you like that again, but I promise you that if you stay, I will do my best to try.”
“Niam...”
“I can offer you nothing of myself. I have no money, no title, no lands to speak of. I know the world has changed but it is not so different that it would welcome the union between a well-bred lady and a king's bastard, despite the high king and queen's own story. I know that moments like this are all that I will ever get, but they can be enough...only, stay. Let me serve you for as long as the high king deems me worthy to be here in his services.”
Mairead looked down, unable to hold his intense gaze. After she had been so badly disfigured in the attack on her carriage, the carriage that had been bound for Faerston so many years ago - Niam's own home kingdom - she came to the quick belief that no one would ever love her the way she'd always dreamed of being loved. There was purpose in being Ashlynn's double. For a time, she felt even that would have been enough for her, but that, too, had been taken away. After months of mourning, Mairead convinced herself that she would never have the types of relationships most normal people had. Her own parents and siblings had not even seen her since the incident and did not know of her deformities. It had taken a great deal of time before she'd even let anyone within the castle see her. She never thought she would have friends again, and now, here was a man standing in her doorway confessing his feelings for her. Though she barely knew him, what she did know had gone a long way in opening her heart toward him and gave his words great impact.
“Say something,” he pleaded softly.
“I cannot stay.” Her reply was full of regret. When she lifted her eyes to meet his, the sentiment was echoed there as well. “As loyal as you are to Jaryn, it is the same for me with Ashlynn. She told me that it was my choice and I know she would not think less of me for choosing not to go, but I would. I cannot stay here and let the days pass me by, watching as the shadows grow longer and darker and my fears grow deeper, because that is what will happen.”
“Not if you let me help you.”
“I think I have to do this myself.”
They looked at one another for a long moment, both of them hoping the other would see the situation from their side. There was a voice inside of Mairead that was screaming at her, telling her that she was crazy. Everything she could hope for was standing right there in front of her, just asking her to let him in. All she had to do was say the right thing and her life would change once more, but this time it would all be for the better. Another voice, one that wasn't quite so loud but was somehow much surer, told her she knew she'd already made her choice and that it was the right one. Niam seemed to know it as well for the small sad sigh he gave when he finally looked down. His hands moved to a silver pin on the side of his belt, making Mairead tilt her head to watch.
“I always keep this with me, mostly out of superstition and usually because I'm wearing my kilt. Trousers are more practical with this armor, though.” He chuckled as he took a few steps into the room with his hand extended. Resting in his palm was the Ainslie Clan crest. “I've always found it brings me strength and courage. I want you to take it.”
She looked at him with raised brows. “What about you?”
“If you're going into the devil's den, you're going to need it more than I will. Besides...” He was careful as he slid the pin into the fabric at the shoulder of her gown. “...if I can't go, I'll feel better knowing a piece of me is with you.” He was slow to retract his hand, and his eyes lingered on the reflective metal. With just a hint of a smile, he told her, “It looks good on you.”
“I will keep it safe.”
“Worry more about keeping yourself safe.”
The sound of footfalls coming down the hallway made both of them gasp. If someone saw Niam in there...but there was no time for him to hurry back out into the hallway and she couldn't think of a good enough place to hide him. Panic made them both freeze when they should have acted. Before they knew it, Jaryn had passed the open doorway, then doubled back to look in with impatient confusion on his face, his eyes only for Niam.
“Hello.”
Niam gave a deep, hasty bow while Mairead averted her eyes, embarrassed despite the innocence of the moment. “Your Majesty,” Niam stammered. “I came by to wish Lady Mairead well on her journey.”
“I see.” Without moving his head, Jaryn's gaze flickered in assessment to Mairead, then back to Niam. “And have you?”
“Yes.” He turned to Mairead and gave her an awkward bow. “Be well, Lady Mairead.”
She nodded, gaze anywhere but on him. “Thank you.”
“Brilliant.” Jaryn turned the full force of his grin on Mairead when she finally looked at him. He stepped aside so that Niam could join him out in the hallway. “I heard you plan to leave with the rest of the group in the morning. Do you have everything you need?”
Pasting on her most confident smile, she glanced around her room. “I believe so. There really is not much that we will be bringing; I have not yet heard how long we plan to stay and whatever is needed I am certain can be purchased or bartered for.”
“Cieria has brilliant markets,” Jaryn promised. “You'll not find yourself wanting for much.” She nodded but said nothing, prompting him to drum his fingers on his leg. “Well, we will let you get your rest. See you in the morning.”
“Good night.” With the look of a scolded child, Mairead watched the procession leave before closing the door.
It was only when the sound of the latch dropping into placed echoed behind them that Jaryn stopped walking and put a hand on Niam's arm. He glanced at the trailing guards with purpose. They walked on to wait several paces ahead so as not to be intrusive but still within ea
rshot. “I'm so sorry, Your Majesty,” Niam blurted before Jaryn could reprimand him. “I know how that must have looked but I promise you-”
“You don't know how that looked.” Jaryn replied calmly, “Your apology is accepted, but Niam, I have placed my reputation on the line in bringing you here. Mairead is a well-established member of this household and you are not. Had it been anyone other than me that had walked by just now, anyone, do you know how quickly it would have run through this castle that the new kid that the high king brought here, the one everyone but Cavalon knows almost nothing about, was alone with one of the high queen's ladies in her chambers? Do you know how likely the story would have stayed as innocuous as that? Not only would your reputation come into question, but hers would be soon to follow and that it not a thing I would be so quick to forgive.”
The younger man paled and shook his head, “I hadn't even thought of that.”
Jaryn's lips pursed and he sighed through his nose. “What possible reason could you have for being in there?”
“I...I...”
“You can tell the truth of it now or I'll get it out of you on the stretcher.”
“It's nothing like that!” Niam insisted. He swallowed heavily and lowered his voice once more. “I wanted to try to talk her out of going. I was going to try to convince her to stay here.”
The older man narrowed his eyes. “Why would you do that?” Instead of answering, Niam opened and closed his lips, looking around as though he could find some sort of answer. It dawned on Jaryn before anything else could be said, and a knowing “Oh!” escaped his lips. “Right. I didn't know.”
“I didn't want anyone to know. I didn't even plan on telling her, but as a last ditch effort to keep her here, it kind of just...came out.”
Jaryn gave the younger man a nod of sympathy. “I understand all too well. It feels like ages ago, but I can still remember some of the things I told Ashlynn in the days leading up to her departure for Caedia. I made every effort to dissuade her from her mission to kill Tadhg. They still embarrass me and she still uses them against me, but I was facing my fear of a possible future without her, and it made me say anything I thought might keep her safe.”
“Yes! Not that I didn't mean it; I meant every word. I just want to keep her safe, like you said. Isn't that what we're supposed to do as men? Isn't that our job?”
“To a degree.” Jaryn softened. “Here's the thing I have learned – you can't always be the hero. Sometimes she wants to be the one to save the day, to save herself, and that's okay. It makes for a healthy balance. Sometimes she needs to be the one to save herself, even if only to remind herself that she's worth saving.”
His words seemed to strike a chord with Niam. His shoulders sagged as he resigned himself to the fact that this was not something he was going to win. “How did you watch her leave?”
“I had to entrust her into the hands of the Giver and believe that no matter what, He is always good.”
Niam blew a stream of air between his lips. “That's a tough one.”
“Aye, it is. Ask someone even as aged as Wessely and he'll tell you he still struggles with it from time to time. It's the truth, though.”
The younger man looked at his king with a sheepish smile. “Thank you, Your Majesty, and again, my most sincere apologies.”
“Just see that it doesn't happen again.”
“You have my word.”
With a simple nod, he sent Niam on ahead and stood there alone for a moment, waiting for the hall to clear before moving on himself. He glanced back in the direction of Mairead's room in thought. He rubbed his beard, then let his eyes travel aimlessly over the windows that framed the night sky just beginning to dot the navy and violet with stars. Eventually he was on the move yet again, doing his own sort of rounds.
Though it was a task that fell to the guards on a regular schedule, he wanted to walk his own path through the castle. He took specific routes to check certain rooms and make sure particular individuals and families were all well and accounted for before turning in for the night. Ashlynn called it damage control and she was doing a bit of her own; she was holding a formal tea, despite it being a thing she despised, trying to keep up some semblance of normalcy while a quiet search for Cirilla continued. Truth be told, Jaryn simply couldn't sit still. He'd much rather be walking the halls all night long until he wore himself into sleep than toss and turn all night. He was not pleased in knowing that Gianara had slipped the guard sent with her to the mountains and disappeared. Cavalon mentioned that if she could vanish, certainly a woman dressed as a simple villager could as well.
Over the hollow sound of his boots and those of his two guards, he heard something soft and high pitched. Pausing, Jaryn lifted a hand to still his men and furrowed his brow. It almost sounded like water dripping into a pool in long intervals, with a soft breathy gasp before and after each drop. Jaryn glanced at the guards to see if they heard it, their frowns the only confirmation he needed. Just a few feet ahead there was a well visited sitting room, one used before formal dinners where men and women gathered to enjoy one another's company. It was dark inside, but he was almost certain the noise was coming from within. Taking slow, silent steps, Jaryn eased forward with his hand on his sword, his guards mimicking his actions. When they were close enough so that all he had to do was take one more step to be in the doorway, he stopped again to listen. This time, he recognized the sound. Someone was most certainly inside, a girl, from the sound of it, and she was crying.
Jaryn released the tight grip he'd had on his weapon and let go of a quiet breath. Once more, silent commands were given to his men to keep them where they were, and Jaryn moved alone. He peeked around the door frame like a child playing a game to see the silhouette of a young woman at the window across the room. The shape of her gown suggested her to be someone of status. It was impossible to miss the irony of the situation at hand, given the talk he'd just had with Niam, but at least his guards were with him. “Stay here and keep this door open.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
It wasn't as dark inside as he originally thought; a fire was lit in the hearth just around the corner and some of the lanterns as well, but it was certainly darker inside the room than out in the hallway. With the light from the room and from the outside giving little clues to the young woman's features - brown hair, small nose, blue dress - he wasn't sure who could possibly be before him. “Uh...hello?”
The young woman gasped and swiped at her face She turned so that her back was even more turned toward him and not even a profile could be seen.
“I didn't mean to startle you and I won't bother you. I just needed to make sure that you were all right before I moved on.”
She sniffled. “I'm all right.”
The voice and the Cierian accent were distinct, specific to a girl he'd been in contact with daily for almost the entirety of the past year. The realization made Jaryn inhale with surprise. “Vala?” Concern quickly replaced shock and he stepped further into the room. He looked around for anyone else as he drew up behind her at the window. When she shied away from him as though she was afraid he would harm her, fatherly instinct made him reach for her to place a hand on her shoulder. “Are you hurt, lass?”
She sucked in a big, shuddering breath and whipped around. Once more she burst into tears before burying her face in Jaryn's jerkin and clinging to him, sobbing. Jaryn stood there, frozen, arms half raised so as not to touch her or encourage anything further. Her small body shook against his chest and he glanced over his shoulder, seeking some sort of help from one of his men, but they stood their post without so much of a peek his way. Knowing her age and how tender her spirit could be at times, despite her unfettered tongue, those same fatherly instincts began creeping back in. He slowly lowered his arms, one to his side, the other just enough to gently pat a hand against her shoulder in a kind but detached manner.
“Are you hurt?” he asked again, trying to get a look at her face, but it was no use; it was
as though she was trying to bury her head into his rib cage which was uncomfortable for him in more ways than one. When she mumbled some sort of response into his jerkin, his compassion gave way to a flicker of irritation and he finally took her by the shoulders to hold her at arm's length. “That's enough, now. I need to know if I should call the medic or not.”
“No.” She shook her head and lifted a delicate hand to wipe the tears from her soaked face, her skin blotchy in the flickering light. “I'm not injured, at least, not physically.”
Jaryn let her go and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. How young was a girl before they began speaking like that, around what they really meant to say? Then, he had to remind himself, Vala wasn't as young as she looked. “Well,” he hedged, “as long as you're in one piece.”
“I've disappointed the high queen. I've failed her.” Vala's tears began to fall anew. “She's terribly upset with me and I have no idea what I'm going to do now!”
The thick exclamation brought a fleeting smile to Jaryn's lips, and he was thankful for the darkness which covered it. “Oh, Vala.” Try as he might, he couldn't keep the humor from his voice. “You are not the first of Ashlynn's ladies to earn herself a poisonous look or a cutting word, and you certainly will not be the last. Given all that has happened today, I'd wager whatever passed between the two of you has already been forgotten on her end and you're beating yourself up needlessly. If you want to earn her love, you're going to have to grow thicker skin than that. Her favorites are the ones who can take it as well as they can dish it out. Lilia sasses her all the time. Sometimes she pushes her boundaries if you ask me, as does Rowan. Even Mairead, in her quiet ways, gives my wife a hard time. The four of them are thick as thieves and there is a reason for it.”