TBTT 65. Curse his Mars in Leo

[moonshadows]

Joshua opens the door and is met four steps in by his mother, who drags him into a hug with a cry of “Joshie!” She releases him only to capture Tessa in an equally enthusiastic embrace. The half-demon is released to greet her adoptive grandfather the same way, leaving the older woman face to face with the Warlord as the door closes behind him, a dozen armed guards standing vigilantly outside.

“No hug for you,” she snaps, arms crossed challengingly. As an afterthought, she adds, “Butcher.” When he doesn’t react, she presses her lips together and nods grimly. “Let’s get one thing straight. You are a guest in my house, and you will abide by my rules. If you don’t like it, you’ll have to kill me.”

That penetrates his pleasant haze enough to get a raised eyebrow. “What makes you think I won’t?”

Wordlessly, the older woman jerks her head at Tessa, who is chatting happily with Joshua and his father. “You kill me, you’ll hurt her. I don’t think you want to do that,” she half-threatens in a low voice.

They stare at each other for a long moment, defiant blue eyes and cold brown ones, and then he lets out a quiet bark of amusement. “I can see where Joshua gets it,” he says, side-stepping the whole issue.

“What do you mean?” she asks warily. Behind her, the others have turned their attention to the potentially explosive confrontation.

The Warlord smiles, habit making the expression a cruel one. “Joshua has proven useful by being willing to speak his mind to me, bravely saying what he thinks I need to hear when others quail.”

All eyes turn to Joshua, who flushes.

“What did you say, Uncle Josh?” Tessa asks curiously.

“I, uh…” Josh glances frantically at his Lord, unsure as to what he’s allowed to say.

“He has been teaching me the proper way to care for one’s tame demon.”

Joshua starts to breathe a sigh of relief at being let off the hook, but chokes when he sees the look on his mother’s face.

“You can start by not keeping her cooped up all day,” she says accusingly. One thin finger fearlessly jabs the Warlord in the chest to punctuate her words.

“She can leave any time she chooses,” he says calmly, struggling to keep the first buzzing stings of irritation from shredding his good mood. “I am not holding her against her will, nor have I ever done so.” Even if I thought I had been doing just that.

“You keep her from her family,” Evie tries again.

He opens his mouth to say She didn’t seem very eager to visit you, but closes it again, momentarily lost in the wonder of having realized that it would be a bad thing to say before the words left his lips.

“You’re not making sure she gets good, home-cooked meals, now are you?” the older woman continues, taking his silence as a victory.

“She doesn’t need to eat,” he says shortly, feeling the irritation grow stronger at the accusation, and the last shreds of good mood evaporating.

“Of course she does,” Evie says dismissively, still jabbing his chest aggressively. “She needs good, healthy food, and quality time with her family, and to not be trapped in some posh cage all day, and…”

Tessa glances worriedly at her star as her grandmother berates him. Irritation swarms all over his mind, and it’s not going to be long before it rouses his rage. A step to the side, and she’s close enough to slip one hand into his. He promptly grips it tightly enough to make her inhale sharply. Oddly enough, he seems to have heard the quiet sound. It jolts him out of the dangerous spiral of irritation and anger as his sense of responsibility roars, sending everything else scurrying for cover.

“Enough,” he snarls. “She is my demon, and I will treat her however I choose!” He pauses, grip loosening just enough for his thumb to stroke her skin apologetically. It seems to calm him somewhat. “You are not the only one who cares for her,” he hisses through clenched teeth, “and if I ever make her unhappy, the only one I will be answerable to for that is her.” He closes his eyes, once more gripping her hand tightly as he struggles to not just hold her close as he so dearly wants, to feel her mold herself to him and stroke her hair until his temper subsides. Joshua is known and trusted – at least as far as being discreet about Tessa goes – but despite being his parents and her adopted grandparents, the other two are strangers to him, and he will not display weakness in front of them. Feeling his Champion’s other hand on his weakens that resolve and then, inexplicably, strengthens it. She is his Champion, loyal to him. Her place is at his side, which is where she is now, standing with him in the face of her grandmother. She wants to serve him. His touch makes her happy.

He squares his shoulders and forces his eyes open to discover that her grandmother is watching him. Once their eyes meet, she gives him a grim nod and then turns to her son as though nothing had happened.

“Joshie, help your father set the table. Tessa, show our guest the washroom and get cleaned up for dinner.” And with that, she turns and bustles into the kitchen.

Joshua looks apologetic. “Uh, dad, this is the Warlord. My Lord, this is my father, Donald. That was my mother, Evelyn. Welcome to our home…?”

Awkward nods are exchanged. When Tessa tugs his hand with a quiet “This way…” and leads the Warlord out of the room, Joshua’s father lets out the breath he’d been holding.

“Thought your mother was going to give me a heart attack,” he says casually, clapping his son on the shoulder. “Well, let’s get going before we get yelled at.”

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Once out of earshot, he pulls her to his chest and holds her tightly, the usual comfort dampened by the slight awkwardness of their respective disguises. He says nothing, secure in the knowledge that she will not ask, simply breathing in the scent of whatever hair product it is that she uses, letting her unspoken devotion soothe his irritation and shore up his crumbling composure.

“If I ever make you unhappy,” he growls in the language of his birth, fear and annoyance transmuting easily into anger at himself, “I command you to make me aware of that fact as quickly as possible, by any means necessary. Is that understood?”

She writhes in his grasp until she can place both hands on his cheeks and meet his eyes with a serious, grounded expression that reminds him forcibly of Tyrande. “I promise,” she says in the same language, and her expression shifts to radiant joy and trust that he feels he could never deserve.

He pulls her back against his chest for a few more breaths, then abruptly lets go and she leads him to the washroom as though nothing had interrupted them.

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“So how’s that conquering the world going?” Donald asks casually as they settle around the table.

Tessa glances at her star, but he doesn’t seem offended and she relaxes slightly.

“The ones who fled the capitol of the hill region were…dismayed…to find my troops waiting for them,” he answers, sounding pleased – if slightly sinister.

“Big bully,” Evie mutters as she ladles generous helpings of noodles, meat, and mixed vegetables onto everyone’s plates.

“Evie,” her husband chides, and she sniffs disapprovingly.

“Well, he is, forcing Grandma’s little girl to do those horrible things.”

“I did no such thing,” he says evenly, nudging bits of green and orange away from the meat and gravy covering wide, flat noodles.

“Don’t you lie to me, mister,” the older woman snaps, pointing imperiously with a serving spoon. “And eat your vegetables. They’re good for you.”

The half-demon stiffens slightly as a few blades peek out of her star’s mind, but they retreat after a moment and she catches the look Joshua and his father exchange. They’re just as afraid of a full confrontation as she is. “He didn’t lie, Grandma,” she ventures in an attempt to head things off before he gets too riled up.

“Tessa, sweetling, don’t try to protect him. You told me yourself that you killed people and destroyed buildings.”

Despite a brief flare of dark amusement at the word ‘protect’, she can see the scuttling flecks of irritation in his mind and hear frustration in his voice as he says, “I did not force her to do those things. She offered, freely and of her own volition, to assist me in that way.”

Evie looks ready to fight that assertion, but one glance at her granddaughter’s closed expression and she shuts her mouth with a snap and takes her seat. For several minutes there is silence at the table as everyone takes refuge in the act of eating. The Warlord’s silent aura of menace fades as no further attacks are presented, and he even seems mildly amused as Joshua is teasingly interrogated about his secretary and the possibility of her being interested in him, marriage, and providing grandchildren. Once he seems relaxed, Donald clears his throat.

“I’m curious, my lord. Tessa said that her job is to do things for you that no one else can do, but she didn’t specify what those are. Maybe you could shed some light on that…?”

His borrowed face goes blank with surprise, and she’s not sure if the spike of panic she’s feeling is hers, or his. “She…is my tame demon,” he says unsteadily, as if he hopes that will be answer enough.

“That better not be a fancy way of saying concubine,” Evie days darkly.

She’s ready to roll her eyes at her grandmother’s usual melodrama when the full bladestorm erupts from its cage and obscures her view of his mind. Afraid now, she takes his hand without caring what it might look like, but he gently removes her hand from his and places it on the table as he stands up slowly, each motion deliberate. His expression is one of forced calm, more of a blank mask hiding the fury she knows seethes behind the illusions.

“I find that I am no longer hungry,” he says coldly. He turns to her and says in a gentler voice, “Enjoy what remains of your visit. I will expect you to be in your rooms by the tenth hour, as usual.”

“I didn’t give you permission to leave the table, mister!” her grandmother snaps, shooting to her feet with both hands on the table.

“I am leaving your home. Your rules no longer apply. I will not abide by them if it means I must sit here and listen to you insinuate such things about Tessa!” Although his tone had started crisp and chilly, the last words are a heated snarl.

She jerks in surprise, and she’s not the only one. Joshua alone seems unsurprised that the Warlord is angrily defending her rather than himself. Both her grandparents are floored by the unexpected end to that declaration, but Evie recovers quickly.

“Coward,” the older woman says disdainfully.

He had been turning to leave, but now her turns back, eyes narrowed. “What did you say?”

“I said you’re a coward. You can bully whole regions and kill as many people as you like, but you run from one old woman saying something you don’t like. That makes you a coward in my book.”

Joshua covers his face. Donald looks mortified…or terrified. Tessa frantically tries to think of a way to calm him down, not caring in the slightest about what her adoptive family will think.

“You dare…?” The words hiss out from between his teeth. “I come into your home as a guest, offer no hostility to you or yours, and yet you insult me and go out of your way to try my patience. I abide by the rules of your house and state my intent to leave rather than retaliate, and for giving you the respect I am no longer sure you deserve, you call me a coward?”

“You’re running from a fight. No – you’re running from your responsibility. Don’t like what I said? Prove me wrong. Defend her, don’t just throw a hissy fit and walk away. If you leave this table, you will be a coward because you would not stand up for yourself, or for her.”

The silence is thick and brittle. No one moves, and Tessa suspects that Joshua and his father are trying equally hard to not breathe, or breathe quietly lest the slightest sound shatter the silence like glass, irrationally certain that the shards will cut them all to ribbons.

“Of all the things I have ever been accused of, justly or falsely,” he says slowly, menace dripping from each word, “improper sexual conduct has never been one of them.” He sits, somehow making the act a direct challenge. “What my demon chooses to do in her own time is none of your concern, nor are any affairs I may or may or may not have. That being said, I do not appreciate the insinuation that I would treat my demon with such a lack of respect as to take advantage of her in that way. Her virtue is safe.” He smiles cruelly while she blushes furiously. “No matter what you may think of me, you will accept that and not insinuate such things again. You may slander me as much as you like, but if you do not give your granddaughter the courtesy of not assuming that she is engaging in illicit activities…well, I would hate to have to make her choose between her Lord and her family.”

She takes his hand again, face still burning, and this time he does not remove it. Despite her embarrassment, she still manages to look defiantly around the table. Joshua and Donald exchange another look, this one I told you so, and Evie seems torn between affront and respect. The blades no longer swarm around her star’s mind, but quiver as though about to launch themselves in a deadly volley, and she makes a note to contemplate that later. For now, he seems much more in control, and that’s all she cares about.

“Finish your vegetables,” Evie says as she seats herself calmly. “No dessert for you until your plate is clean.”

Without another word, he busies himself doing just that.