TBTT 37. The path he fears to tread

[moonshadows]

She finishes the routine and turns to face him, breathing hard, face flushed from her exertion. He gives her a slight nod, and she beams at him. One tendril of hair sticks to her cheek, black strands reaching around from where she's retrained it in a high tail. Should he? She will do it herself if he hesitates. He reaches out to brush the strands away, to feel her skin beneath his and see her lean into his touch.

"Ow!"

She jerks back, startled. The two cuts on her cheek split open, blood slowly pooling in the rent flesh before droplets begin creeping hesitantly down her face like deer navigating a mountain trail. She winces as her fingers flutter over the wounds, eyes wide as she sees her own blood on them. The hurt confusion she turns on him is an arrow in his heart. One step, two - she backs up slowly, as though afraid to make any sudden moves, terror showing on her face now. He wants to apologize, to beg her forgiveness, to cry out in the anguish that surges through him at her rejection - but he can't move. His hand, the hand that wounded her, remains outstretched. A single drop of her blood beads at the end of one traitorous talon.

"Foul demon! What have you done to her?"

He'd thought he could not possibly feel any worse, but oh, he was wrong. To see his Champion cringe away from him was bad enough. To see her seek refuge in his brother's arms...

More than ever, he wants to plunge those talons into his own flesh, but still he is unable to move.

This can't be happening. This can't be real. Tessa, I'm so sorry...

The darkness tastes like Hyjal on his tongue as he gasps for breath, fingers twisted in the sheets. A nightmare. It was just a nightmare, but this is the third time in as many nights that he's had it.

I can't lose her. I won't take that risk.

No one will ever see the inside of his bedroom but him, and he certainly doesn't care if his walls are scored. Inarticulate screams of strangled rage that cover fear and guilt echo off the polished stone as he drags his claws down the smooth surface again and again. He pauses periodically to test the tips against his own skin, growling each time he draws blood.

Better mine than hers.

When he is finally satisfied that the wicked talons have been dulled enough to not present a danger to his Champion, it is well past dawn and he wants nothing more than to crawl back into bed and claim the sleep that was stolen from him by nightmares. His mind feels abraded, as though he had been scraping it against the stone wall for hours rather than his claws. What's on his schedule today, anyway?

The door to his office locks only from the inside, as his own rooms are accessed from it. He does not bother to don human form as he stalks to his desk; that's one irritation he can do without for the time being. Now, what's on the schedule? Meetings, meetings...nothing urgent. He scribbles one note for his secretary with directions to cancel or re-schedule everything, and another for Joshua, who was to be his first appointment, directing him to bring his demon here. The second note gets torn up. As much as he yearns to have her plunge him into utter relief from himself, he doesn't want her to see him like this with scratches all up and down his arms.

He is nearly back to bed when he remembers that his demon is more clever than most of his staff. When Joshua learns that their meeting has been canceled, he will likely use the time to visit his niece, who will realize that something must be wrong. She left her rooms without direct order once before, walked through a locked door because she somehow knew that he needed her. A third note is hastily scrawled, this one orders for Joshua to relay to Tessa that she is to remain in her rooms for the rest of the day, and dropped through the slot to land on his secretary's desk.

Before he returns to bed, he keys the viewing screen on and switches the feed to his Champion's rooms. She's sprawled in her own bed, one pillow clutched to her chest, wings spread out loosely. Seeing her sleeping peacefully brings him a tiny measure of peace as well, and he keys off the screen with a sigh before seeking refuge from the waking world.
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"He canceled your meeting?" Although she has turned to look at Joshua in shock, the needle continues to dance over the red fabric, leaving black embroidery in its wake.

"He canceled all his meetings today, according to his secretary. No explanation." Joshua unfolds a sheet of paper and offers it to her. "And he left this for me."

She takes it, skimming the loose penmanship. Joshua knows what it says, but what he doesn't know is why his Lord would specifically order Tessa to stay in her rooms today. Her expression doesn't give him any clues; it closes up until she may as well be carved out of stone. After a minute, she looks up.

"I hear and obey the words of my Lord," she says with a sort of distant obedience.

The needle continues to dance over the cloth as she stands up and calmly walks to her desk. A pen scratches against the paper briefly, then she walks back and returns it to her uncle. A glance shows him why she didn't bother hiding what she wrote beneath the orders; it's in some alphabet he's never seen before.

"Give that back to his secretary for me?"

"Sure, Tessa. No problem." He folds it up and tucks it into his shirt pocket, slightly unnerved by the unnatural calm she's radiating. "Do you know why he might have done this? I mean - I know he tells you things that I don't have any business knowing, and I'm not asking to be told something that's none of my business, but when he was...bonding...with you on Week's Dawn, did he tell you anything that this might be related to?"

"No," she says serenely.

The forced calmness is too much for Joshua; he makes his apologies uneasily and leaves to deliver her mysterious message.
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 When he wakes up several hours later, feeling refreshed but nagged by guilt, his first thought is of his Champion. She will have gotten his orders by now. Did he correctly guess her intent? Is she upset with him? He runs his fingers through his hair, grimacing. A long, hot shower would be marvelous right now, but he wouldn't be able to enjoy it with this nagging at him.

There is a single folded paper in the basket beneath the inbound slot. Sparkly purple ink forms crisp Kal'dorei runes that read 'Did I do something wrong?' and the guilt doubles. She doesn't deserve this. He'll have to explain to her - but not right now.

The hot water pounds against his back, soothing, relaxing tense muscles as he scrubs the scabs off his arms and rinses suds out of his hair. He can almost imagine his sins - or some of them - washing down the drain.

Clean, if damp, he feels less...frayed...and more able to face his Champion, if no one else. He regrets, now, that he hasn't taken her up on her offer to teach him how to traverse the Twisting Nether. It would have been nice to be able to visit her without anyone knowing, but no - her guards would know as long as they were doing their job. It is a grim comfort to him as he stalks through the halls, guards in tow, that no one will dare ask him anything.

She drops her disguise the instant the door clicks shut behind him, almost before he drops his. Somehow, she had to know he was coming - she was waiting for him, just like the first time he told her to stay until he came back. The message of obedience is not lost on him, nor is the look of mingled dread  and longing. It is the first time she has greeted his arrival with fear rather than joy, and he suddenly remembers her terror at the thought that he might reject her.

Has she spent the last few hours thinking – no, no, forgive me, my Champion! I didn’t mean-

He does not give the guilt time to sink its claws into him; one step and he is able to wrap his arms around her. She shudders once before nestling against him, trust implicit in her cheek against his chest.

"You did nothing wrong," he growls. "I...did not sleep well."

"Are you okay?"

Some of his tension turns to relief. She didn't pry. She’s not upset with me. I don't deserve her. "Better, now." After a moment, he says awkwardly, "I did not intend to worry you."

"You don't have to hide from me, Kal'shan," she says softly.

Oh, but I do. If you knew how broken I am, you would find someone else to serve. His arms tighten around her in a mute expression of everything he can't bring himself to say.

"I don't care what happens." She sounds...desperate, like she's making a confession. The fear that he will reject her makes her voice tremble. "I just want to help you. Serve you." Now her arms tighten around him. "I can't do any of that if you don't let me."

He doubts she knows how badly he needs this, needs to believe that she knows what she's talking about. On the other hand, he doubts she knows how shaken he is that he came so close to unintentionally ruining everything again.

"I know I'm still young and...and...and not trained very well in some areas, and you deserve better than me, but-"

"No."

She lifts her head off his chest, leaning back to look at him in shock.

"No," he says in a more gentle tone. "I would say that it is you who deserves better than me." The smirk he tries to give her comes out looking more like a grimace. "However, I am loathe to relinquish you."

"I wouldn't go, anyway." Her matter-of-fact tone warms a tiny corner of his heart. "I'm your Champion. I..." All her teenage awkwardness floods back, and she drops her eyes to where her hands are spread against his chest. "I'd do anything for you," she whispers. "Please..."

It's not the first time anyone has begged him for anything, not by a long shot. However, it is the first time that anyone has proven to be both this trustworthy, and genuinely eager to serve. He has the sudden conviction that if he said no, he would break her heart. For all the magic he commands, he's never had that particular power over anyone. He pulls her back against him, one hand sliding through her hair, confident this time that he won't harm her. For a long moment, he is unable to speak past the unnamed emotions that choke him. Then he swallows, roughly shoving aside his pride.

"You will need to be patient with me," he says quickly. This moment of vulnerability won't last. "I will not always be able to tell you what I need. You have already proven yourself adept at seeing what needs to be done and doing it, so I...command you to keep doing that."

"I will, Kal'shan, I promise!"

"I will hold you to that, my Champion." The emotions surging through him, which he refuses to name, turn his voice into a rough growl - but she doesn't mind. After a moment, he releases her gently. "Now...since my schedule for today has cleared up, I will take you up on your offer to teach me how to traverse the Twisting Nether."

Oh yes, that's the smile.