by Power, P. S.
He'd done that a few times now.
Tor repeated what he'd told Varley, that he couldn't do the work just then, but would gladly send something to her if she'd write him a note reminding him about it and where the device had to get to. She looked surprised.
“Oh! I... I mean that's wonderful of course, but surely you're too busy for my petty concerns. I'll muddle by like always...”
He waved that away and asked her to send the note again. It was a largish field, but it wouldn't take that long to develop. Tor just needed the time. He always needed more time. Better than being bored at least, right?
It was the rest of the conversations that made him feel uncomfortable.
Two of the women openly flirted with him, right at the table, so blatantly he figured it was them just making fun of him for some reason. Especially since one of them could have been his grandmother, which given how young all the royals looked compared to real people meant she must be nearing a hundred years old. The other looked to be about thirty and really, if she hadn't been sitting right next to her husband, he might have been interested, at least in theory.
Tor didn't really want to sleep with a married woman, at least not if she wasn't married to him. It was just his Two Bends upbringing, but it still bugged him. No doubt he should work on that part of things? He just couldn't bring himself to flirt back and so found himself at a loss as to what to do. He'd been warned not to be rude, even if they were just playing with him, he kind of even got that he should play back, but it was too hard. Tor floundered for a few seconds, feeling more awkward than he could remember being in the last year.
Varley saved him.
After a fashion at least.
“Oh... my brother mentioned that all proposals need to go through my mother for Tor. She's handling such things personally for now, so that he can give his full attentions to matters of import for the kingdom. She's being a stickler too, only taking the most serious. She already shut down my sister's proposal of marriage to him, so, you understand, there's a high bar here. I'm considering floating my own offer too, but don't know if I'll make the cut either. I think mother wants him for herself. She's already married though, so really, I don't see the problem.” She said it simply, smiling, and then taking a delicate bite of a tiny chicken pie thing that was delicious if too buttery and rich for his simple palate.
Tor almost choked on his own mouth of food when she said the words, her cute face dimpling into a look that he took to be teasing. As soon as he got her intent he played along though, nodding seriously as if it were normal that the Queen would be stepping in for his own mother for real. No one else teased him about things like that for the rest of the night at least. There were some funny looks though.
The dessert was a flavored ice dish that actually got applause. Lime. It wasn't half slush, but shaved ice delivered to the table frozen solidly with no melting at all. It evaporated on the tongue like fine winter snow. Even in the cool dining room it was fantastically done. The Queen tilted her head at him and pointed at the dish with her spoon. She smiled at him warmly and shook her head just a tiny bit. Did the cooks use the new cold boxes? She seemed to think he'd had some kind of hand in the dish. Tor didn't know himself. They could have had some other plan in place already, before he did anything even. Things like that took planning for even a few people, and had to have even more for hundreds.
The shouting match didn't start until after the meal had finished at least.
He couldn't even tell what it was about; some overly large man decided that some other overly large man had wronged him, of course. Something about lines and borders, from what was being screamed back and forth. Tor would have been happy enough to let the men, both old enough to have learned at least a little self-control, past thirty but under forty at a guess, handle it themselves if one of them hadn't grabbed the lady that was with the other, and start to strangle her.
It was a shocking move. If the man had gone after the other large fellow, it might have made sense, but this? It simply wasn't right or proper.
Tor couldn't move fast, but he did the best he could, stumbling along towards the back of the room, slapping at his shield to turn it on as he went. The damned splint was impeding him too much. The one man, who'd been the louder of the two mere seconds before, spoke to the other man softly, telling him to let her go... or else. That noble didn't attack; probably worried about the woman who was having the life choked out of her as he spoke, she was turning a pale blue color already and her tongue was sticking out in a comical fashion that a lady like this would never have done on purpose. Not in public. The calmer man's voice became both softer and more anxious the whole time.
Tor activated his shield hoping that he could get the man to simply attack him instead. He wouldn't be hurt and the woman should be alright. She'd stopped struggling by the time he got there, making only the softest of whimpering sounds. That attacking man wouldn't let go, obviously well into battle rage already.
Walking up behind the man and dropping his walking stick, so he wouldn't have a weapon on him, Tor hit him in the kidney as hard as he could with a right hook. Which... didn't even make the man turn. That hurt, being hit like that. Nearly as much as being hit in the groin. Tor knew this from personal experience. Maybe he was just too small to make it work like it was supposed to? He tried it again, half expecting the Royal Guard to come and start trying to kill him right then, instead of waiting for him to have a chance to save the lady first.
He knew he was dead after this anyway, he had to be. You just weren't allowed to hit royalty like he was doing and live. Not some common guy from Two Bends. Still, the light blue woman needed his help. Everyone else had pulled away or just stood there. So that left only him, right? If he was trading his life for hers, then he really needed to get the guy's attention fast. Two people dying here wouldn't be worth it at all.
He hit again and again, then, in desperation, he kicked the man in the groin from behind, balancing precariously on his splinted leg for it, nearly falling over backwards. Finally the guy let the woman drop and started trying to just kill him instead. He didn't bother fighting back, just standing and letting the man exhaust himself against his shield. After about twenty minutes of steady punches and kicks that had a very trained quality to them, certainly more than he could have handled without his shield, even if the giant wasn't in a super strong combat condition that left cracks in the floor again, the dark haired giant stopped suddenly. Blinking he looked at the room, where the party had mainly moved to the other side and looked down at Tor, suddenly going white.
“Are you alright? I... I'm sorry, I was discussing a border issue with Baron Rochester and the next thing I knew I came-to hitting... you... what happened?”
Tor decided to go for a flip answer instead of simply crying for mercy that couldn't come under the law anyway. Too many people had seen it this time for anyone to turn a blind eye. He might as well not look like a wimp on the way out, right? For all the good that would do him. He had to fight to keep the Two Bends out of his voice when he answered, moving past fear and even shock into hopelessness faster than his mind could handle.
“We got into a fight over a girl... I got the girl in the end by the way. Go figure, right?” He smiled at the man who just looked baffled.
Tor took off his shield amulet and handed it to Rolph, who'd cautiously walked over to him, looking concerned. No one came for him though, no guards or friends of the giant he’d assaulted looking for revenge. He waited and then slowly figured it out. Of course they'd wait for him to leave the party, not wanting to endanger people, or cause a scene, one of those polite social rule things that royalty always did. This in mind he walked outside into a garden space, the Prince following him closely, about five feet back. Two Royal Guardsmen came as well, watching him nervously. One shifted a little, turning back to face the room as Rolph stood holding up the amulet.
“Tor?” He said his voice uncertain. “Something?”
Tor shrug
ged and waited for the guard to do their duty, beat him or throw him in irons, but they just stood there, watching him, and oddly enough, the room, closely. Finally one of them, the large black and purple clad one that faced him spoke, his voice calm, as if speaking to a mad man.
“Sir, Master Tor... do you intend to pursue this further?” The man sounded almost diffident, which was not what he expected from the Royal Guard, even when they were being nice. It took him off guard.
“Huh?”
“Do you intent to meet the Duke in battle sir? Or do you consider yourself satisfied as to the resolution here? We need to know your intent so that the King's forces may plan accordingly...”
He knew all the words the man used, at least in theory, but they still didn't make sense. How was he going to meet a Duke in battle and what did the King's forces have to do with it? He shook his head trying to clear it. What were they talking about? He looked at Rolph and raised his shoulders in a shrug.
Rolph figured it out and fixed it for him. Tor suddenly felt thankful for having gotten to know him then. Even if things hadn't turned out all that well in the end. Outside of his family, Rolph was the only one that had always been there for him since they met.
“Oh! I see... This issue is over as far as Tor is concerned I believe... It was never personal on his part, and he only sought to protect Lady Priscilla when he saw her attacked. I do not believe that Duke Winchester means harm towards Tor either. Just a potential disaster thankfully avoided. These things happen. Do let us know if the Duke changes his mind however. I don't like his chances if he decides to go that route against Tor, but that's up to him.” He handed the amulet back to Tor and motioned him to put it on.
Shaking as if cold, Tor still couldn't figure out what had happened here. Why hadn't they arrested him? Why was it so hard to think? He took deep breaths, trying to calm himself enough to figure things out. About ten minutes later Connie came out to find them and hugged him close to her for a long time as he kept shaking.
“It's fine now. Priscilla lives, and no one was harmed other than a little bruising. Thankfully her own shielding kicked in enough to save her for a while. She asked me to thank you, even as she still gasped for breath. That was most brave of you.”
He finally pulled back from her, his eyes going to Rolph and then her.
“Why didn't they arrest me? I struck a noble, right in front of everyone. Several times. That's the death penalty, without exception, for someone like me.” He hadn't stopped shaking, but it had slowed a bit, which let him sound as if he was just confused, not like a lost six year old ready to cry for his mommy.
Rolph laughed, the low one he got when something was deadly serious and not funny at all.
“You are kidding, aren't you? First, you're under the King's livery, that little badge you're wearing? It means that you didn't do anything at all, the King did. I'd like to see someone try arrest him for this, which is what the law would require them to do if anyone cared to press the issue. That's why the guard asked if you intended to meet Winchester in battle. If you'd said yes the King's army would be mobilizing right now, so just as well you don't hold grudges. Besides...Tor... don't you realize what just happened in there? When Duke Winchester moved on Priscilla... you went into a combat rage yourself. The aura's unmistakable. You challenged him fairly and held until he ceased, without even attacking him further. People were only afraid that you might not come back from it. That happens sometimes, especially in the first few episodes, and, you know, you look young. It was just possible that you might have insisted on making war with the man. Which as I said, I don't think would go well for him. He only has about twenty thousand under arms, most without shields and no weapons that would stop you, even if dad wasn't backing your plan. Luckily your version of battle rage seems to be very protective of others and not all that violent. You fought, yes, but only until he let go of the lady, then all you did was defend. I wish I had that kind of control. I... don't know why you turned your shield off though... No one would have thought less of you for keeping it on.”
Heh? He'd had it on the whole time. Hadn't he? Rolph shook his head and so did Connie. Oh. That was strange then. It had felt like he had a full working shield on and the force moved correctly, into the ground. He'd probably built it on the fly having had so much practice with the devices he made. It made sense, but didn't at the same time. He shrugged and asked if he could go to his room, if he was still allowed in the palace, that was, after his brutish behavior.
Connie hugged him again.
“Don't be silly. On both counts. Yes you're still welcome here, and of course you can't go back to your room. You have to rejoin the party and show them all that you have control over yourself. To do less would be a sign of weakness. Mental weakness, a lack of character. That coupled with your accomplishments to date would terrify, at least those smart enough to realize what it could mean. So, take a deep breath, smile and go back in...” Her look was stern, as if the matter didn't brook argument. He swallowed and took that breath, still shaking. Then holding his head high, which he figured was implied in her little speech, he plastered a smile on his face and walked in to the room.
No one looked at him directly when he came in, but a hush crossed the room. Winchester, the man he'd fought with, if hitting a person from behind and then letting them beat you counted as a fight, walked across the room towards him, which made several others move at the same time, closing on the point where they'd meet near the door, since the Duke walked fast and Tor hobbled slowly. The metal splint slowing him down a lot, not just his short legs.
Count Thomson got there at about the same time they met, as well as an older, very distinguished giant of a man that must have had six inches in height on the King and nearly that much extra across the shoulders. They clearly expected trouble, but instead of lashing out the Duke went to one knee and bowed his head rather humbly.
“Forgive me.” He said simply as if Tor was someone to ask forgiveness of.
Tor bowed back, not going as low, because of the splint. He didn’t kneel either.
“Sure. It wasn't a personal thing, no reason for us not to be friends, right? Things like this can happen, and there are no debts between friends after all. So nothing to worry about there, right? But...” Looking around he couldn't see the woman, Lady Priscilla at all. She might have been hiding or taken away to safety already, given her ordeal. “Really, it's not my forgiveness that should mean anything to you right now, and that isn't an issue at all, since we’re friends. If you haven't taken care of the other matter already at least I mean?” Tor didn’t say it loudly, not trying to embarrass the man if he’d forgotten to do that first. A few people could hear him, obviously, but at least the people across the room wouldn’t.
The man stood and bowed low, his eyes still downcast.
“I'll see to that directly.” He said it as if it were an order instead of a friendly suggestion from some guy he probably had every reason to hate at the moment. Then the man stood straight and held his own head high again, and turned away, presumably to go and see to the other apologies he needed to make.
The larger man looked satisfied for some reason and took a half step back, so that he wasn't looming over Tor by as much. He still loomed, but probably couldn't help it, not and still be in conversational range at all. The man put his hand out, a thing so big that Tor felt like a five year old trying to shake his hand. It made him smile. Dwarfing him or not, the huge man was trying to meet his countrified ways to set him at ease. Everyone else just bowed here as a rule, so this man was going out of his way to be kind and polite.
“Count Ford. I wanted to come and thank you personally for all your help. That river you created... No one has ever even heard of the like, not even in the time of legend. And I spoke to the Queen earlier; she said that you already have plans for a relief effort to make up part of the lost crops in my county? And that you're doing it at the expense of yet further work on your part without expectation of reward? I
... I'm humbled and touched. Thank you sir. If you ever need anything that I or my people can provide, anything at all, please let me know and it will happen.”
Tor thanked him and tried to not blush under the praise, making sure he didn't duck his head bashfully.
“But really, all this praise should be going to the King, since he was the one that made it happen. I'm just glad I was around to help.” This got a nod from the Count who moved off to thank the King personally he said, his voice cheerful enough about it.
He lasted for another few hours, making sure he didn't leave until the Queen told him it was alright to. Tor still couldn't really think, so he trusted in her to get him where he needed to go and kept trying to smile and be polite when people talked to him. Trice hovered close behind him, softly touching his shoulder every few minutes to get him to turn and talk to some new person or other. They passed in front of him in a way that he knew meant that he'd never remember all of them later. Finally when Connie gave him a wink and told him he'd done well, Trice walked him back to his room and left him at the door with a sad little kiss on the cheek.
He smiled. Yeah, sure, he'd probably looked like a moron, but at least he wasn't being executed for some reason. Being daring he suddenly hugged her and kissed her back. Just on the cheek, but it made her smiled.
“I haven't forgotten what I said earlier...” She told him. Then she turned and left before he could get that clarified.
Did she mean the teasing about getting married or that she'd promised to tell him why she was so sad and distracted? Both maybe. It was a stupid idea, him even asking to marry her for real, but it was more fun, if he was just going to be pretending for now. Tor decided to go with that one just for the moment. Chuckling a little to himself he realized that she'd be Trice Baker. Back home it would come out as “S'treeze Baky” which would actually make her sound almost like one of his sisters. He'd have to start calling her Patricia, he decided. At least at home. Then maybe not. It would come out as “Pas'treeze Baky” Pastries Baker. It was a cute name, but might confuse people as to her profession.