TBTT 33. Can't free a fish from water, either

[moonshadows]

Joshua shifts slightly under the weight of his Lord's gaze. He wasn't arrested for his actions last night, so he's fairly confident that he won't be killed, but when it comes to his master, he tries not to make any assumptions.

"You lied to her guards," the Warlord says finally, mild disbelief and menace lacing the words. "You took her without permission, and then lied to my guards."

There's no point in denying it. "Yes, my Lord."

"Why?" He actually sounds curious rather than threatening.

"I thought..." Joshua takes a deep breath. "For some reason, you didn't want to kill them, and they were taking advantage of that. So I thought..." He trails off awkwardly. "You said that sometimes, you need to hear it. And Tessa said you wouldn't harm her, and - forgive me, but - you look happier after you've spent time with her."

"Indeed. How did you get her guards to open the door without the amulet?"

"I told them that with her fully bonded to you, your word alone commanded her."

"And you had no guards with you. I would have preferred to not have her unprotected, but the precedent has been set." He turns to the screen showing a mountainside view, completely ignoring Joshua for a long minute. "So long as she is with you, she will have no guards. I will not have her wandering around unescorted for the time being, however."

"Lord?"

"She will be joining me in my private gym sessions; my secretary will deliver the schedule to you. I am also giving you the order you told my guards you had: you are to bring her to me after every cabinet meeting. All other times, you will have free access to her. If she wants to go somewhere, you are to inform me so that it can be arranged."

For a moment, Joshua is overwhelmed with shocked joy that Tessa is being given more freedom. Then he notices how his Lord's hands are clasped behind his back, one hand clutching the other wrist so tightly that his fingertips have turned white while the other hand is a fist so tight that it trembles. But he's the Warlord, Joshua thinks in confusion. What does he have to be nervous about?

The only conclusion he can reach is that his master is still concerned about treating Tessa right. This has all kinds of remarkable implications, none of which he really feels up to thinking about.

"One more thing." The Warlord turns back to face Joshua, that bully-protecting-girlfriend look on his face again. "Once a week, I will be...bonding...with her. Under no circumstances, up to and including armed invasion, am I to be disturbed during that time."

"I understand, my Lord," Joshua says with a bow.

"Good."

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Joshua goes straight to her suite, as he suspected. The Warlord leans forward, fingers laced together, and watches to see if his little bird will fly at the first hint of freedom from her gilded cage.

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"Tessa?"

"Just a minute," she says absently, tongue in the corner of her mouth. Her hands dance over invisible strings, conducting the arcane performance of needle and thread. After a minute or two she gestures a crescendo and the cloth wraps itself up neatly in the undyed wool it was delivered to her in. "There," she says, cradling the bundle fondly. "I guess Illi- um, I guess you just got the news?"

"I did." Joshua sits in the overstuffed chair that had been the stage for her little sewing project. "And I know he's listening, and it's not my business anyway, so I'll just say that I approve of this step and leave the incomprehensible demon things to you." He grins with her, despite feeling like he's losing touch - and, paradoxically, feeling all the more like her surrogate father because of it. "Now, our Lord mentioned a weekly bonding session, but I didn't stop at my office to see if the schedule had been delivered yet. What day is that going to be on?"

"Week's Dawn," she says after a few seconds.

Joshua nods. “Would you like to come home with me for Week’s Dusk dinner? Your grandparents would love a chance to see you again.”

“Maybe next week,” she says, looking like she’d rather be saying ‘yes’. “There’s some things I’m working on.”

“But you’ve been cooped up in here for almost a month. Don’t you want to get out for a bit?”

She smiles in a way that reminds Joshua of his Lord. “If I really wanted to get out of here, Uncle Josh, nothing would be able to stop me.”

He stares at her for a minute before shaking his head. “Incomprehensible demon stuff. Got it.”

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The Warlord stares at her as well, remembering two days that she spent without moving from a single spot simply because he said not to move. She could have left any time she wanted – between walking through the gym door and the memory of his own self-resurrection, he supposes it would be simple enough. She didn’t know about his ignorance until yesterday, however.

On screen, Tessa and Joshua are talking, but he doesn’t pay attention. One human finger caresses her image with gentle possessiveness. She could have left. He was not imprisoning her. Every day that she remained in her rooms was a declaration of loyalty. A knot of guilt loosens, allowing the hope it had been choking to breathe freely. I am your Champion, she’d said. My place is at your side.

Indeed, he thinks as he switches off the viewing screen. He refuses to think about how she might have meant that, given the startling obedience she has already shown. She’s just a child. If that hadn’t been abundantly clear already, State’s interest in her would have confirmed it. The fat slimeball wouldn’t dare act on his desires, at least. Cunning little sleezebucket knows how far he can toe the line before he risks becoming a greasy stain. He continues in this vein for some time, deliberately banishing the softer emotions, burying them beneath his usual prickly shell of barely-restrained annoyance and borderline menace.

After all, he has a reputation to maintain.