by Kim Wedlock
He looked back up from his potent fingers as the door quietly clicked shut, and his heart immediately jumped into his throat. "Taliel!"
She stared at the wall behind him, and though she did flinch slightly at the exclamation, which he wished he hadn't loosened, she didn't otherwise react. "Keliceran," she began with the usual sturdy respect, "I received a message to report to you as soon as I returned from Adin."
"Well it..." he blinked, "it wasn't urgent..."
"Then I won't keep you."
"No, no," he half-rose from his seat in a curious panic as she turned back towards the door. "It's fine, please, by all means, take a seat. I...have too much work to do to go to bed just yet anyway."
"Then I shouldn't distract you."
"No," he rose further as she reached for the handle, but again she stopped and turned around with professional composure. "I...could also use a break."
"Would this meeting not constitute as work, Sir?"
"No, it's not--I didn't want anything official...just..." he fought the redness from his cheeks, "just a chat, really."
The slightest frown flickered over her face. He may have imagined it, but at least she didn't turn away again. "Very well, Sir."
"Salus, please." He smiled politely and gestured to a chair, ignoring how familiar the routine felt. Hopefully it would go better than their last 'chat'. She took the seat, and though she clearly intended to remain rigid and professional, her eyes flashed in surprise as she sank deeper into the cushioning than she'd expected. She quickly corrected herself as her cheeks flushed, and Salus could only smile. "I'm sorry, the chair's new."
She shuffled forwards so she didn't sink again. "What happened to the last one?"
Salus blinked. "It...broke." By his foot, then his hands, then the floor. He smiled nervously, then rose quickly again as a thought occurred to him, surprising her once more. "Would you like a drink? You've just returned, you must--"
"Thank you, yes. Ginger tea." She smiled sheepishly at her enthusiasm, provoking from him another smile. She must truly have been thirsty. He moved over to the frequently targeted and subsequently frequently replaced tea pot, freshly filled with hot water only half an hour before, and rifled through the drawers beneath it in hope that he had such a tea. Much to his surprise, there was an old jar marked 'gi-g-r' at the far end of the collection. He never touched it himself, but just as Arana House was always kept spotlessly clean, so was it kept freshly stocked, as if the few servants and cleaners who were permitted inside and followed by individuals of Teagan's choosing hadn't caught on to the fact that it wasn't actually the stately house of a surprisingly large and sombre noble family.
He brought her the cup and retook his seat, leaving his own to brew. Then silence hung. She didn't drink. He was about to ask what was wrong with it before he realised it was, of course, too hot to drink. She shortly put cup and saucer down on the small table beside her.
"Adin's evacuation is going smoothly?" He asked suddenly, desperate to escape the lull.
"Yes, perfectly well," she replied, startled. "All on schedule."
"Good..."
She nodded, and her eyes soon shifted onto the back wall once again. He sighed inwardly. She was uncomfortable. As was he. Which was ridiculous. Why should he be uncomfortable around a subordinate just because he wanted to have a casual conversation? After all, Teagan was little good for it, always picking apart statements meant as light sarcasm, or providing far too blunt responses when he needed a little delicacy. He was always so very matter of fact.
But Taliel, she wasn't so matter of fact. He could see some kind of joy in her eyes sometimes, she had the capacity to smile, to think, to be human, all while still being able to switch it off when needs arose. She would know when he was making a joke, and when he needed softer handling - she would tell him what he wanted to hear when the situation called for it. Because a white lie was harmless, while the truth...could be destructive. He knew that well as a leader of a faction for whom intelligence was a weapon.
And, quite possibly, as a human...
"Are you all right, Sir?"
He blinked as Taliel shifted her eyes away from him, and he found a concerned, thoughtful tension in his face. He forced it to relax, and smiled. "Yes. Sorry, just lost in thought..." He sat up straight and reached for his tea, shaking off the discomfort. He had no reason to feel awkward. None at all. There was, at the very least, a desk between them.
"Was there something in particular you wished to talk about, Sir?"
"Salus, please. And no, there..." he sighed as the discomfort returned in full force. He slumped deeper into his seat, defeated. "In truth, when I left that message, I just wanted some company."
Her eyebrows rose.
"I've not been sleeping well - again - and the war has been taking its toll. But," he smiled, and discovered that this one was difficult, "I'm all right now. You can leave, I'm sure you're tired and I don't want to keep you up."
Her eyes finally fell onto him, a suspicion deep within them. He felt his heart jump at their focus. "Forgive me," she said, though the formality in her tone had vanished, "but I believe you're lying."
Then Salus's eyebrows rose.
She sat back in her seat, cautiously, reached for her tea and made herself comfortable. "I don't know why you're choosing to come to me, but if my presence and advice can help you do your job, then as your subordinate, I have no right to refuse."
"You misunderstand," he said quickly, "this isn't an order--"
"I'm well aware of that, Sir--Salus. I apologise. What I mean is that if I can help you to straighten out your thoughts and get a better night's sleep, I want to do it, for the good of everyone. And I assume that only I can - you wouldn't have called me here if Teagan or anyone else could do it instead." She smiled certainly. "You're not keeping me up."
He regarded her doubtfully, but found he didn't even want to try to argue the point.
"Is it the forest dream again?"
Something unstoppable compelled him to tell her everything. And she displayed no boredom, dispassion or condescension during or once he'd finished. Instead, she simply nodded. "Recurring dreams are the worst."
"You've had them?" He asked, surprised. "When you were younger? You said you struggled, for a time."
"You remember that? Yes, it was, but they can happen for any number of reasons. If you're worrying about something and you get stuck on a loop, if the matter doesn't get resolved or just seems to keep spiralling out of control, then it's only natural that your dreams will reflect that. And if you start panicking about them, worrying about going to sleep and having them again, you're even more likely to experience those same elements in your next dreams. But," she smiled encouragingly, "they're nothing to be afraid of."
"No, of course they're not, of course they're not...but they can be so..."
"I know. Everyone knows. Everyone has had a dream at some point in their lives that has terrified them so much that they've been afraid of falling asleep and suffering through it again. Some go as far as to avoid sleep altogether."
He nodded slowly, then noticed the suggestive glint in her eye. He chuckled in embarrassment. "Yes, I am guilty of that, I suppose. But how do you get past it? They seem so vivid, so real..." His face twisted in desperation. "They just won't stop. Even when I wake up, sometimes it feels like they just keep going for another half hour."
"Because you're lingering on them," she replied simply. "You have to just brush them off as nothing more than imagination, turn your mind away and focus on what the day brings instead. Concentrate on the things that matter. After a few days of redirecting your thoughts, you'll forget all about them."
"You seem so certain."
"Because I'm right."
He breathed a laugh and eased back in his seat. "Thank you."
"My pleasure. Salus."
He watched her as she raised the edge of the cup to her lips.
"Can I mention," she began after taking a soft sip, "that g
iven all you've just said, you don't seem to be very tense right at the moment. Nervous, perhaps, but not tense."
He silently cursed himself. He thought he had it under control. "Well today's been a bit better than most."
"That's good to hear," she said, sipping quietly again. "Perhaps you'll sleep a little easier for it tonight."
His fists tightened. "Perhaps..." Excitement bubbled up. He had to show her.
He raised his hands and contorted his fingers as quickly as he dared, watching her all the while. She frowned in bafflement at the action at first, but astonishment swiftly set in, and as the orb of light appeared and outshone the office lanterns, she stared at the hovering body with an expression of dumbfoundment bathed in soft, blue light.
He read her eyes carefully, but he couldn't decide their nature. Even when they shifted slowly onto him, their astonishment unwavering, he couldn't decide what he saw. Suddenly, this didn't seem like a good idea.
"You did this?" She breathed, looking back onto the orb. "How did you do this?"
"You're not afraid, are you?" He asked, unable to bear her cryptic gaze. "I can control it, I promise you--"
"Afraid?" Though her eyes were still wide, her brow now furrowed as if the thought was preposterous. She was already reaching slowing towards it. "Why would I be afraid?"
"Because magic is a dangerous thing..." He watched her slender fingers move gracefully through the light, hesitant at first but soon enraptured, discovering at that moment himself that the orb had no solid core. His lips twitched into a smile, and relief settled. "It's a shame I couldn't have shown you anything more impressive..."
"This is impressive enough..." She looked through the light towards him as her fingers continued to swirl. "But how did you do it? I didn't think you possessed magic..."
"Apparently I did. The prisoner taught me to control it." He rose to his feet and moved around to the other side of the desk, leaning against it as he continued to watch her, but as he too became absorbed in the dancing glow, his thoughts began to wander. "I'll learn more," he promised himself quietly. "And then...then..."
Her eyes sharpened in caution. He didn't see it. "And then what?"
Teagan's doubt echoed in his mind. Salus didn't agree with it, but...what if Taliel did?
His gaze shifted and he smiled back at her, her eyes bright and interested. "And then I'll be able to do away with the candles and have lights as bright as daylight in here."
She chuckled. "Then you'll never get any sleep." She sat back, staring at the light until he dismissed it, and then found him staring at her with equal intensity. She smiled uneasily. "What is it?"
Salus hesitated. Her eyes were beautiful. Soft, but focused. "Can I ask you something personal?"
"Personal?"
"What would you say to someone if they told you they couldn't stop thinking about you?"
The teacup fell perfectly still, its edge hovering just inches from her lips, and a single, dying wisp of steam curled upwards to fog the surprise in her widened eyes.
He waited patiently, watching her closely, trying to read her first reaction before it could be replaced by instinctive phidipan control. But there was no change. From the moment he'd spoken she'd remained stunned and confused. There hadn't been even a momentary flash. It seemed that her walls truly had been lowered the moment she'd declared he was lying - she had honoured him with that. Her shock was genuine.
She slowly lowered the cup as she collected herself, the bone china clinking delicately against the saucer which she set just as carefully back onto the small side table. She didn't speak for a long moment, but her thoughts, moving faster than she seemed able to keep up with, were plain in her eyes. "Pardon?" She managed eventually.
'I have no reason to be embarrassed.' "For weeks now, I've been unable to get you out of my mind. I notice when you're not around, I'm disappointed when I find out you've been sent out on orders and there's no chance of bumping into you in the halls, and when you are here, in this room with me, any tensions I have are subdued." He took a step towards her, the calmness of his tone tightening, but he refused to give in to his childish embarrassment and let it restrain him any longer. "I've not been able to relax even before this war started, and since it has, I've not been able to think straight because there are too many factors whizzing around for me to make the decisions I have to as easily as I should. But even though I'm filled with...such a...paralysing stupidity when I'm around you, you manage to make every tangled problem seem so clear, every solution so obvious! Taliel, I'm at my best when you're around!"
"This really doesn't seem appropriate." Her tone was firm, but she didn't shrink back from him, even as he took another heated step forwards.
"To hell with 'appropriate'! I've never thought of anyone as I do about you."
"You are being too bold."
"Perhaps, but I've been feeling all this for a long time and only recently did I begin to understand it!"
She shook her head in dismissal. "Infatuation."
He took a final step and knelt quickly beside her, his eyes flicking fervently between hers. He regretted it, but he couldn't even think to hide it. "How can you know?"
"How can you know?"
In a second, his desperation fled. She analysed his eyes. She didn't think he could answer. But he could. "Because," he replied softly, certainly, "to reach my magic I had to delve deep into my subconscious. I waded through my emotions like mud. I have seen them all unfettered, felt them all, been overwhelmed by them all. And in those moments, I knew my emotions better than anyone else could ever know their own. I knew the difference between jealousy and envy, between shock and surprise, between regret and remorse. I couldn't mistake them, even if they seemed unfamiliar - and your face, your name, and your voice were among them. Among the most beautiful of them. I could not mistake that, either."
Their eyes were locked. His heart hammered, beating hard but steady, and though he inwardly held his breath, wondering just what she would say to that, say to any of it, to crush something he felt which was so alien but so definite, on the outside he appeared perfectly calm, perfectly patient.
But instead of ridicule, instead of insult, rage or denial, Taliel's beautiful brown eyes, ringed with copper, softened in defeat. Her lips parted to speak, but nothing eloquent came out. She stammered, and quickly gave up, staring into his blue eyes instead, searching for a clue for just how she should respond.
His mind turned blank under her gripping gaze. He leaned towards her, only slightly - not by manners or respect, but rather because a flood of nerves had rendered him suddenly unable to think or move. He had no clue what he was doing, if it was right or wrong, and a clamour of voices all began shouting in his mind, providing their own conflicting opinions to further complicate the matter.
He swallowed hard as he made his decision. He moved away, shrugging it off as a shift of his weight, and felt his heart lurch first in the greatest disappointment, then in surprise. The soft, warm lips he'd watched curve into a smile and sip the ginger tea pressed gently against his own. The slender fingers he'd watched weave through the handle of the teacup and tease the unnatural blue light traced softly over his stubbled chin. Her long, brown hair, disrupted by subtle waves, brushed over his arm. And her warm breath further heated his cheek.
Half of the voices in his mind had been stunned silent. The rest protested all the more to fill the void. But he found that ignoring them came easy.
He kissed back, clinging onto the moment with all his might, desperate for it not to end. But of course it did, and the moment that followed was the most confusing, fragile and expectant he had ever known. He couldn't bear it. "What does this mean?" He asked in the third.
She breathed a soft, bewildered laugh. "I don't...know..."
He nodded slowly at another great rush of disappointment. A moment ago, the silence had been almost comfortable, but now it seemed intrusive, judgemental. He could swear he felt a hundred pairs of eyes upon him.
&nb
sp; He felt exposed. Foolish. He pushed himself back up in defeat and turned away from the woman, silently willing the ground to open beneath him. But again, her contact surprised him. He looked around, wide-eyed, as her fingers gently took a hold of his wrist, and he felt another foolish hope erupt inside him at the sight of her smile.
"It means," she said decisively with a gentle squeeze, "that if you need to talk to anyone again, you can depend on me."
Her fingers released him, his wrist slipping slowly out of her grip, and he was aware of how stupid his smile would be if he unleashed it. So he kept a tight hold over his facial muscles, concentrating so much on that that he forgot to respond. He watched her yawn, heard her apologise, and found himself wishing her a good night. And then she left.
He stood motionless in the middle of the room, staring unblinking towards the door. His mind had stalled again. But he smiled. He was happy. So very, very happy.
Taliel's hands only began to shake as she reached the atrium. She tightened her fists to ward it away and appeared otherwise composed, but her heart was racing, her mind riddled with conflicting thoughts. She felt disgusting - insubordinate and traitorous. Angry. At Salus for speaking so frankly, at Lord Malson for pushing her into the situation, and at herself for complying. She'd executed such orders before, but this...for the first time, she doubted her task. For the first time, it felt immoral. But...just like every other, she understood its importance.
She shook her head again, trying to chase the childish thoughts away. There were greater things to be concerned about.
Whether Salus had the best of intentions or not, the fact that he'd awakened his magic was a problem. An emergency meeting had already been held, the essence of which she'd been given as soon as she'd returned from Adin not an hour before. It had been brief with a unanimous agreement: they had to intervene. Carefully prepared pieces, she knew, were already being put into play, and messages were being sent to all their scattered assets. Everyone was being informed.