Niklaus: Northkind Mage

 

The discussion went well into the evening and still was not sorted.  They were kept in Hestia’s stone house, put up on furs and blankets on the floor.  They were told not to leave until the decision had been made.  This lasted for two days.

Several elven children came to stare at them through the window though, seeming to be interested in their every move.  The window was no more than a hole in the side of Hestia’s house through which the tiny faces poked in, blinking inquisitively at them.  Roger told them to go away; they were determined and ignored him.

Athalla invited them in but only one accepted, the rest content with keeping watch at the hole.  Niklaus watched her talk to the child; she seemed to be telling him a story.  He was a cute little elven boy, whose large eyes lit up at her every word.  She made wild hand gestures, speaking to him in Sliverwood, a language Niklaus didn’t fully understand yet.  The children at the window also listened.  He could see a shorter child jumping up and down behind the crowd, trying to get a glimpse of them.

He leaned against the wall next to Roger.  “What’s she saying?”

“She’s telling him about that wagon we found, remember?  With the children.”

Athalla pointed to Niklaus and mimicked his gathering of light with animated movements.  The children gasped.  One of them at the window started crying.  She paused her story then and went to the window, trying to soothe whichever child it was.  Niklaus couldn’t see.

Roger chuckled, “She’s pretty good.  Very entertaining.”

“Why is the child crying?”  but the thief only shrugged.

“Why does anyone do anything?”

Athalla, moved to action by something one of the children said, left the stone house.  Niklaus rushed to the window, the elven boy went with him, and they both watched her gather the sobbing child in her arms.  It seemed he hadn’t looked at this one too closely.  He wasn’t an elf at all.  When the child she was holding looked over her shoulder, it was clear that he seemed to recognize him, but Niklaus couldn’t place him. 

He looked to the elven boy next to him, “Who is that?”

The boy didn’t seem to understand him.  Perhaps these elves didn’t teach their children King’s.

Athalla brought the child inside with her and set him on his feet.  “Go on,” she said.  “He won’t hurt you.”

“Why’d you bring him inside?” Roger complained.  “Has he stopped crying at least?”

The boy clung to her leg and Athalla tried to gently pry him off without success.  She waved Niklaus over.  “He was in that cage.”  She looked past him to the thief.  Niklaus glanced back at Roger too, seeing him motion for her to be quiet.  Whatever else she was going to say changed.  She nodded and flicked her eyes back to the child.  “He’s scared of you but he knows we saved him.”

“Does he know where they were taking him?”  Niklaus stepped forward, addressing the child now because it seemed Athalla didn’t know.  “Do you have family?”

The human child took off and the elven boy chased after him, leaving them all staring at each other in confusion.  There were still children at the window though, who seemed eager for Athalla to finish her story despite the odd interruption.  Athalla started from where she left off, with much less enthusiasm than she had before. 

“What was that about?”  Something unsaid seemed to pass between him and Athalla.  Niklaus had recognized that; something connected to their rescue of the children. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Roger threw an arm around him when he sat next to him.  “Maybe it will help.”

“What will?”

“Saving the children, you fool.” He laughed.  “Maybe it will help us get accepted here.”

Hestia returned, interrupting the story and shouted at the children.  They scattered, running away from the window.  She pointed a bony finger at Niklaus.  “You.  Bring your friends.”  She stalked out of the house with purpose and they all rushed to follow her. 

They were led to a large hut with several elves sitting around a fire.  It seemed that these were the ones discussing their fate.  Niklaus stood nervously between his friends, scanning the elves’ stoic faces.  They talked together but only one acknowledged their presence.  It was the Tangarian.  His eyes were black, he noticed with wavering resolve.  They had no iris or pupil.  It felt as if he was staring into a deep void of impenetrable darkness.  The Tangarian nodded to him and Niklaus hesitantly returned it, swallowing with difficulty.

“He’s a scary looking bloke,” Roger muttered under his breath.  Niklaus nodded to that as well.  “Shouldn’t we say something?  It’s rude to talk about someone right in front of them.”

“I don’t think they know that.”

Hestia took a seat by the elf he had seen her with earlier, the one with the strange bright green eyes like Sunvine.  The circle quieted then and they all stared at the trio.  Niklaus looked to Athalla for help, but she was openly staring at the Tangarian and seemed in another world altogether.

“Um… hello,” he said to the group. 

“Nice one,” the thief whispered.  Niklaus ignored him.

Hestia narrowed her eyes at him, scowling.  Niklaus looked to the rest of them, who regarded him with genuine curiosity.  The elf with the odd green eyes seemed to be staring at Roger but his expression was unreadable.  No one said anything which made the atmosphere that much more uncomfortable.

“Have you decided?” Niklaus asked, eager to get this over with.

“We have decided not to kill you,” Hestia said.  Niklaus didn’t know what to say to that.  He supposed he was thankful but it seemed that had been all the elves had gotten around to deciding in all the time they were kept in her house.  “Sit with us.”  She gestured for the other elves to make room, and the three of them sat in the circle.

Athalla couldn’t seem to take her eyes off the Tangarian, but when Hestia addressed her she came back to reality.  “Little sister?  Tell us your name.”

“I’m Athalla.”  She looked around the room at the other elves’ faces, addressing them all.  “A hunter from the clan in the north.” 

“How is it that you found these two?”

“They came to our hold to trade with our Lady.  I followed them south as we seemed to have the same destination.  As you must have heard from Ceraph, we were forced from our home by the capital and the books were stolen.”

“You took it upon yourself to recover them.”

“Yes.” Athalla didn’t sound so sure of herself then.  Against Hestia she was weakly defending her actions rather than simply saying what had happened.

“You didn’t tell your clan you were leaving?”

“No.” Athalla hung her head.  “I didn’t want my sister to worry.  I thought I’d be home long before now.”  Niklaus felt a pang of guilt at those words; she’d be home long before now if it wasn’t for him.

“You are foolish, but your intentions were honorable.  I will not ask what you had to do to retrieve them.  That you have is enough.”  Athalla seemed to let out a sigh of relief; Niklaus understood completely.  Were he Athalla, he would not have to explain that he dressed as a prostitute to infiltrate an estate.  Hestia turned her attention to Roger who was chuckling to himself.  “I want to discuss the abductors you murdered.”

“What? No,” the thief’s expression completely changed.  “We saved the children, right?  You didn’t make her explain.”

The elf with the bright green eyes spoke this time, in heavily accented King’s.  “They deserved to die.  There is no shame in what you have done.”

“You killed them,” Niklaus said, recalling how bloody Roger had been when he returned with food that night.  How suspicious that had been; and Roger hadn’t said a word about it!  He told him before all that happened that he had never had to kill.  Was that a lie?  He had killed those mercenaries without any qualms whatsoever.  In fact he remembered Roger taunting them, laughing in that smoky cloud at the lord’s estate.  As if he enjoyed it. 

“Yes,” Roger said, sighing.  “I killed them, all right?  I didn’t want you to know about it.”

“You have earned your place with us,” the green-eyed elf said.

Niklaus was still staring at Roger in disbelief. “What?” he sputtered.  “Who?”

“They were orphans,” the thief said, not able to look him in the eye now.  “They would have been auctioned to guild houses.” 

Hestia and the elf beside her nodded.  Niklaus looked from them to Roger in astonishment.  “How do you know that?”

“Because it happened to me, Nick.”

“You told me you ran away as a child.” He hoped he was lying now but Roger looked so serious.  “Was that a lie?”

“No, I ran.  Then I was taken.”  He said these words as if they were snatched out of his mouth.  The thief scowled at Hestia.  “How did you know I killed them?  You weren’t even there.”

“The child was.  He saw your light, Northman, and you, Ro’Kirr, when you returned to give those men what they deserved.  He told us what had happened.”

Athalla’s mouth had dropped open during this exchange.  She stared at Roger curiously.  She had wanted the guards to be murdered, had insisted on it, but Niklaus had talked her out of it.  He couldn’t imagine what was going on inside her head right now. 

Niklaus on the other hand was conflicted.  The children were saved, that was the important thing, but the guards had been blinded.  Athalla explained that they had tied them up and placed them in their caged wagon.  They had been defenseless, and surely debilitated enough that they wouldn’t cause any further issue.  There had been no need to murder them.

“Nick, stop looking at me like that.”  Niklaus turned his head away from him and stared at his hands.  He didn’t know what to feel.  “I couldn’t stop—they…” Roger sighed and didn’t say anything further.

“It’s done.” Niklaus said finally, still dazed by all that had been revealed.

“You don’t approve, Northman?” Hestia scoffed.  “What sort of man are you?”

He had nothing to say to that so remained silent.  Roger bristled beside him.  “He’s not a murderer!” he spat at her.

“I am though.” Niklaus continue to stare at his hands, imagining them on fire.  “I helped you kill those men at the estate.  I burned…”

“Niklaus you were defending us!” Athalla shouted, grabbing onto his arm with both hands.  She shook him.  “If you hadn’t been there we wouldn’t have gotten out of the place alive!”

“Niklaus, is it?”  He looked up then, his eyes resting on the Tangarian.  The Tangarian then turned his head to Hestia and the elf beside her with the odd eyes.  “You have my vote,” he said.  “If you won’t, I will.”

“Wait!  What are you saying?” Athalla still had a tight old on his arm, so tight Niklaus’ hand was starting to get numb. 

The elves around them nodded, each agreeing with whatever the Tangarian had decided.  Hestia spat into the fire and left the hut, muttering under her breath something none of them understood.  Whatever the decision had been, she didn’t seem satisfied with it. 

The elf with the odd green eyes quieted the group and looked to Niklaus.  “We are the eldest here,” he said in his heavily accented voice.  “We decide on what’s best for all of us.  Are you dangerous, Northman?”

Niklaus nodded; he wouldn’t lie to them.  “It’s why I sought you out.”

“Your magic led you to us.  That you survived your own people is a miracle, but they should have killed you.  It would have been a mercy.” His words were cruel, but his tone revealed his regret.  “I felt you, and know no mortal should have such power.”

“What are you talking about? He wouldn’t hurt anyone!” Athalla insisted, but she hadn’t seen the worst of it.  “Not on purpose…”

“I won’t let you kill him.” Roger pulled out the knife he had used to deface the carvings in Hestia’s home.  None of the elves looked fazed, but Athalla cried out, covering her face in shame. “I’ll cut our way out of here if I have to!”

Niklaus was shocked; he had never seen the thief so angry.  He reached for him but Roger shoved his arm away.  “Don’t do this!”

“You will all stay with us,” The Tangarian said, laying a large brown hand on the thief’s arm.  “Put your knife away.”

“What?”  Roger still hand the knife in his hand, his knuckles white on the grip, but now he looked confused.  He blinked at the smile on the Tangarian’s face but seeing it only seemed to anger him further.

“Ro’kirr…” The green eyed elf stood and walked around the fire.  “Come with me.”

Niklaus watched as Roger stabbed the knife into the floor of hut and reluctantly followed the elf outside. “Where is he taking him?”

“He’ll be all right, boy,” The Tangarian assured him.  “I am called Khu.” He pulled the knife from the floor and handed it to him.  “You may go for now but I will find you later.  We will speak.”

With that Athalla and Niklaus left the hut but were at a loss of where to go.  Hestia left in such obvious displeasure it didn’t seem right to go back to her home, not that they felt welcome or wanted there.  Instead they found a place by the stairs going up out of the cavern and sat together, still reeling from all that had happened.

The conversation had exhausted him and he leaned against the carved cavern wall behind him.  Athalla linked her arm in his and rested her head on his shoulder.  “What do you suppose they meant?  I didn’t think you had such a gift.  It doesn’t show…”  Niklaus gave her a tired look.  “I just mean I don’t feel it the way they do.  I suppose you have to have magic to notice it.”

“I don’t know what they meant.”

                “You’re not a murderer.  I killed most of those men.  Am I murderer?”

Niklaus hesitated, looking down at her. “No.”  Those men had tried to kill them, but they were doing their jobs, weren’t they?  They probably had no idea what Lord Holmes had stolen from the Sliverwood.

“I can’t believe Roger threatened to kill them!” She laughed but it was uneasy, as if she didn’t know what else to do.  “What do you suppose that one with the horrible eyes is doing to him?”

Niklaus shrugged, scanning the area for him but didn’t see Roger.  Perhaps that one elf had dragged him into one of the homes to tell him his threats weren’t appreciated.  He hoped what the Tangarian had said was true.  Roger was rash, but surely all he was getting was a stern talking-to.   None of the elves seemed to take his threat seriously.

“I’m hungry…” she said.  “Do you think they’ll feed us?”

“I imagine they will.  They did say their intentions were to keep us here.  I can only assume that means keeping us alive as well.”

“Oh, Niklaus… you should be happy!” She seemed elated, but it was probably only due to her obvious attraction to the Tangarian. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m just tired and starving.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie.  They hadn’t eaten since they got here.  Hestia wouldn’t share her food with them and had said keeping them in her home was enough.  Luckily Niklaus still had a potato in his pack which they had shared, though it had been raw and not nearly enough to sate them.

It seemed forever when Roger finally returned to them.  He still looked angry, but he had food with him and shared it.  “They’re having a party tonight.  We’re invited,” he said in a tone not normally associated with parties.

Athalla watched him, studying the tension in his face. “What did he say to you?”

“It’s not important.” The thief glanced at Niklaus, tearing some bread into little pieces.  He didn’t seem like he wanted it but looked as if he wanted to destroy it.  “Are you mad at me?”

“No,” he said, but he didn’t want to talk about it.  Instead he ate in silence while Athalla and Roger discussed how strange the Tangarian was.  He ignored them, lost in his own thoughts. 

These elves had decided to keep him, which was what he had held onto that last bit of hope for, but it didn’t feel like a victory.  He watched Roger gradually return to himself, wondering what his life must have been like to turn to murder and thievery so easily.  Niklaus had so many questions but wouldn’t ask them just yet.  He had no doubt the thief would skillfully evade them; he kept so much hidden when Niklaus hadn’t hidden anything from him.  He couldn’t; it just wasn’t in his nature.

“Kavel said we could stay with him.  Hestia’s clearly a bitch anyway, so I’m not bothered.”  Roger snapped his fingers in Niklaus’ face.  “Are you paying attention?”

“Yes.” 

“He’s been acting funny.  Not happy at all,” Athalla said.  “Did you get our things out of her house?”

“He did.  I wasn’t going back in there.”  Roger moved beside him, waving a hand in front of his eyes.  “Have you cracked?”

Niklaus shook his head, pulling himself out of his thoughts.  “I heard you.”

“Yes, but were you listening?” Roger laughed and pulled him to his feet.  “Come on you two.  His place is just over there.”  He pointed to a small hut right beside Hestia’s stone home and pulled Niklaus along by the arm.  “He’s got wine! That should cheer you up.”  It didn’t.

Athalla seemed ready to leap for joy.  She had really gotten a taste for Tangarian Red, if that was what Roger was talking about.  “Is Kavel the one with the eye problem?”

“Um… yes, but I wouldn’t tell him that.”  Roger laughed nervously, almost blushing by the looks of him.  Niklaus narrowed his eyes suspiciously.  “I may have mentioned it…”

Niklaus stopped following him then.  “You didn’t.”

“He was yelling at me!” The thief said but Niklaus just stared at him.  Not one of those elves in the hut had bothered yelling, even Hestia who didn’t seem to appreciate his presence didn’t raise her voice to them.  The thief had pulled a knife on them and they didn’t so much as blink!  Roger sighed, rolling his eyes.  “All right, he didn’t yell but he was being an arsehole.”

“You insulted him.”

“Why do you have to say it like that?” He pouted but Niklaus wasn’t in the mood to be manipulated.  “He talked as if I was a child.”

“You act like a child,” Athalla interjected, gesturing to the three of them.  “They were treating us all like that.  You are not special.”

“Whatever you!”  He snapped and waved her away.  He grabbed Niklaus’ hand again and pulled without success.  “What’s the matter with you?” 

“Nothing,” Niklaus said and walked around him toward the hut. 

Niklaus entered the weird round hut, his companions following behind him.  He found the odd-eyed elf Roger had called Kavel rummaging through his pack and setting its contents on the floor.  “Uh… what are you doing?”

“Looking for more knives,” he answered simply and didn’t look up from his gross invasion.  “I haven’t taken anything if that’s your trouble.”

“Those are our things.”  Niklaus was nudged in the back.

“You tell him,” Roger said.  Athalla shushed him.  “He did that to me earlier, Nick.  Told me to empty my pockets.”  Athalla shushed him again, louder this time.

Niklaus sighed and pulled Roger’s knife from within his clothes.  He threw it by the elf’s crossed legs.  “Take it.”  They wouldn’t need it here anyway.  Or at least he hoped not.

“That’s mine!” The thief protested and was given a stern glance by everyone in the hut. Niklaus doubted it was really his; Roger stole whatever he could get his hands on.  “Fine, keep it.”  He shoved past Niklaus and dropped on the floor.  “You keep treating us this way and see what you get in return.”

“I don’t want to wake up with a knife in my back,” Kavel’s tone was serious though he looked oddly amused when he saw the thief sulking again.  “I know your type.” He took the knife, setting it well away from Roger. “We discussed your attitude.”

Niklaus chuckled silently, ducking his head to his smile.

“Oh shut up, Nick.”

“You’re not going to have my bow,” Athalla said in a small voice.  “Are you?”

“No, but your friend has lost his knife privileges.”

“I know how to use a bow,” Roger drawled. 

“You’re not touching this bow!”

Niklaus’ smile disappeared completely listening to his friends start yet another shouting match.  He saw a cushion on the other side of the hut and went there, contemplating suffocating himself.  He could feel Kavel’s weird eyes following his movements, perhaps waiting for him to burst into flame, he did not know.  Why did he even offer his place if he didn’t trust them? 

Niklaus sat on the cushion and dropped his face in his hands.  He tuned them out, or tried to.  It was times like these that he missed being alone.

“Here,” he heard Kavel say and he raised his head to see the elf had sat himself next to him on the cushion and was handing him his pack. Niklaus took it and put it aside.  “Your friends are always like this?”

“Do you regret it already?” Niklaus snorted and shook his head.  “If you can stop them you are welcome to try.”

“Why are you not pleased?”  Kavel seemed to smile but as his eyes were so strange it was difficult for Niklaus to look anywhere else.  He hoped he wasn’t being rude by staring.  “A celebration is tonight.  Khu has brought something special from his homeland.”

“Wine, I suppose?”

“Yes.”  The elf pulled a bottle from a crate beside Niklaus, reaching over his legs to grab it.  Niklaus jerked when his arm brushed him.  Kavel pressed the bottle in his hands. 

The bottle had no label and was free of dust unlike the one Roger had stolen back in King’s Town.  Niklaus didn’t understand.  He cocked his head at the elf who was now watching him expectantly.  “I thought you were afraid of what I might do.  Wouldn’t wine make things worse?”

“The wine dulls the magic and it may help you relax.”  His oddly bright green eyes studied him curiously.  He said something in Sliverwood then and reached over and opened the bottle for him.  Niklaus looked over to Roger and Athalla but they weren’t paying attention.  His friends were too focused on arguing with each other. 

“I don’t… what?”

“You will learn,” he said cryptically.  Kavel stood then and exited his hut, leaving them alone.  Niklaus stared after him wondering what he meant by that.

---

Much later when Niklaus had been convinced to share the wine with his friends, Khu returned and urged them from the hut.  It seemed the celebration had begun and the bright light within the cavern dimmed to a glow like soft orange torch light.  Niklaus was fascinated by this.

“How did you—“ he slurred, and then frowned at the sound of his clearly inebriated speech.  “How?”

“You’re enjoying the wine?” The Tangarian’s lips quirked, taking in the state of them.  Athalla was in the midst of a giggle fit and couldn’t seem to stop.  The thief had his arm around her, whispering something into her ear. 

“No!” Athalla said and shoved at Roger weakly, still laughing.  When Khu began to frown she quickly corrected herself.  “Yes, I meant!  It’s… uh…”

“Very potent,” Roger finished for her.  Niklaus had to agree.

“It is a blend of blood red berries and black grapes.”  Khu beamed with pride.  “The spice is only found in Tangar.  Don’t drink it too quickly.”  He raised an eyebrow at Athalla, who seemed to be hanging on his every word.  “Perhaps you’ve had enough,” he said to her.

All the elves were gathered around the many pointed sun carved into the floor.  Music was playing, something infinitely more pleasant than the terrible lute playing at the whorehouse, and a great number of them were dancing.  There were so many of them; Niklaus swore he didn’t see this many when he arrived.  Perhaps there was more than just this one cavern hidden in the mountain.

“To answer your question, the light is magic of course.  It simulates the sun during the day.”

Niklaus had nearly forgotten his question about the light which seemed to come from nowhere.  “I see…” he said, staring up at the high ceiling.  It was dark and dusted with pinpoints of white light as if they had gone through the trouble of simulating stars as well.  “It’s wonderful.”

“What’s a Tangarian doing with this lot?” Roger asked him as they were led through the crowd of celebrating elves.  “I thought you never left the jungle.”

Khu sat them next to Kavel, who did not join in the festivities.  The odd-eyed elf watched his people, amused by the dancing and the music, but remained on the edge of their merry making. 

“I came to visit Kavel and Hestia and to bring the wine.”  He turned his attention to Niklaus.  “Don’t be troubled by Hestia.  She is…”

“Different,” Kavel finished for him.  “And not here,” he explained when Niklaus scanned the dancing elves for her.  “We won majority.  She is angry with me.”

“Why does she hate us so much?”

“She doesn’t, but she’s wrong nonetheless.”  Niklaus wasn’t sure what he meant by that.  “She’s not wrong often.  It will be good for her.”

Athalla was bouncing in her seat, tapping her fingers on her knees in time with the music.  She was no longer paying attention to them.  Her eyes were on the dancing elves around the sun. 

“Go on, girl,” Kavel said, and apparently she didn’t need much encouragement.  She was up in a second and disappeared into the crowd without a word.  “You two should join them.”

“I don’t dance.” 

The thief chuckled beside him, perhaps imagining him doing such a thing.  Niklaus was awkward enough without trying to do what these elves were doing.  He watched them though, amazed at how completely they lost themselves in the music.  They were a blur of lithe and pale bodies, all twisting together.  But eventually it made him dizzy and he had to look away.  Perhaps he had too much of Khu’s wine.

“Your mood’s improved,” Roger drawled.  He had that mischievous look in his eyes again, the one that made him nervous.  Roger brushed his hair from his shoulder and touched his face.  Niklaus’ scruff was growing back.  It had taken some time.  The thief scratched his fingers on his cheek.  “I’m tempted to steal you away.”

Niklaus wouldn’t mind so much if Kavel wasn’t staring at them; the elf seemed genuinely curious but he wasn’t prepared to explain what Roger might have meant.  He cleared his throat uncomfortably, glad that Khu at least wasn’t paying attention.  It was odd to see him smile.  The Tangarian seemed entertained by the dancing figures, blissfully unaware of anything else. 

“Stop it,” he said.  He didn’t want him to stop but it was hardly appropriate to say such things while Kavel paid such rapt attention. 

Niklaus ducked his head, flushing as the thief chuckled again, throwing an arm around his shoulders and jostling him playfully.  “Look at your face,” Roger whispered amusedly.  “Perhaps he needs more wine?” He heard him say to the others.

“Khu’s wine is very strong,” Kavel began uncertainly, but handed him a bottle anyway.  Niklaus glanced at him, unnerved by the questioning look in those strange eyes of his.  He hoped he wouldn’t ask it, whatever it was.  “So I’ve been told.”

“You haven’t tried it?”  The thief raised an eyebrow.  “Aren’t you concerned about hurting his feelings?” he teased.

Kavel grinned and Niklaus noticed something odd then, but wasn’t sure if it was the wine he had been drinking or not.  His teeth, he thought, they weren’t normal… but then the grin wavered, lessened marginally.  He seemed to notice Niklaus was staring at them.  They looked sharp.  Maybe he was drunk. 

“I do not drink wine.  He knows that.”

“Nick didn’t either until I made him try it.”

“I imagine you have made him try a great many things.”  Kavel cocked his head at them and after a moment he left them alone, taking Khu with him.  Niklaus watched them walk around the crowd of elves to Hestia’s house.

“What do you suppose he meant by that?” Roger groused.

“At least he’s gone.  He makes me nervous.  There’s something strange about him.”

“Elves are strange,” the thief said with a shrug as if that explained everything.  He pointed to Athalla frolicking with the others.  She’d never seemed so happy—not since he sold his father’s axe.  “She’s finally let her hair down.”

“Hmmph,” Niklaus grunted.  He took another drink from the bottle. “I’m glad.” Though he didn’t sound like it, not even to himself.

“What’s crawled up your ass?” Roger yanked the bottle from him.  “Even the elf’s having a good time.  What are you doing?” He set the wine down and sighed in frustration.  “Besides being mad at me for no reason…”  Roger squeezed his leg.  “I did defend you, you realize.”

“That was stupid.” Roger scoffed and returned to drinking.  “If they had taken you seriously they would have killed you.”

“I would have gotten a few stabs in.” He doubted that very much.  The Tangarian would have knocked him flat if Niklaus didn’t do it first.  Though when he saw the thief’s serious expression some of his sourness melted away.  “I meant what I said.”

“I know.”

“You wouldn’t do the same for me?”

Niklaus laughed at that, tempted to knock him in the head.  “I already have, you idiot.”  He leaned over and kissed him then.  “I think you were just too self-involved to notice.”   He pushed him down and buried his face in his neck.  No one was paying attention to them now and he’d save his anger for later as long as Roger would let him.

“I am pretty great.”

Niklaus growled hearing those words.  He pulled his face away from Roger’s neck and shoved his tongue in his mouth to silence him.  It worked, as that was the goal, but the longer it went on the less he had control over it.  Roger already had his hands on his ass, his fingers digging into him, and was rubbing himself against him, arching his back off the stone floor.  None of that was fair.

“You—you know we’re not alone.” 

“Stop and I’ll bite you,” Roger panted in his face.  He couldn’t be serious, could he?  It had him remembering when he had before.  At the river.  He moaned helplessly, glad the drums were so loud and that everyone else was distracted with flailing or dancing... frolicking… whatever they called that. “Unless you’d enjoy it then I’ll do it anyway.”

“Stop talking.”  It was difficult to untangle himself and stand, but he managed it.  He grabbed Roger by his shirt and pulled him to his feet. 

“Hmm… I like you this way,” Roger drawled, revealing he hadn’t been listening which honestly was not a surprise.  He kissed him again but this time it was because he couldn’t keep himself from it. The way he sounded; his voice was getting to him.  When he pulled away it was only because he forgot to breathe.  Roger didn’t say anything else and seemed content with being led away to Kavel’s hut, which they both knew was empty.

They got as far as the entrance when a hand clamped down on his shoulder just as he felt another one, hopefully Roger’s, slide down the back of his trousers.  He shifted his eyes to the hand on his shoulder, following the arm up with wide eyes to Khu’s face. 

“Where are you two going?” 

Roger’s hand grabbed a handful of his ass and squeezed, causing him to jump a little.  “I hope that’s a rhetorical question.”

Kavel was beside the Tangarian and Niklaus could see the realization hit him; it was shining out in those weird eyes of his though his expression was unreadable.  He walked past his friend and separated them, taking Roger with him back to where they had been sitting.  Niklaus stared after them too shocked and frustrated to say anything.

Khu pulled back the curtain which marked the entrance to Kavel’s hut.  “Come,” he said.  “We must speak.” 

He cast a longing look behind him at Roger before following the Tangarian inside.  Dimly Niklaus was aware the hut was less bare than it was when they had left it.  Blankets and furs were piled near the round wall and beside the crate and his pack were two large burlap sacks.  It wasn’t much, but considering what had been there before, just the cushion and the crate, it was noticeable even in his distracted state.

“Something is troubling you?”

The Tangarian sat on the floor and gestured for him to do the same.  Niklaus sat across from him, unable to look the elf in the eye.  Of course he was troubled, by a number of things, the topmost of which being interrupted and torn away from something that had been at the back of his mind, nagging him since he and the thief had first touched.  He wasn’t about to explain that; he didn’t have the words.   Niklaus shook his head and said nothing.  His cheeks were burning. 

“Kavel and I believe we can help you,” he began.  Niklaus looked up then, seeing the Tangarian pull out a pouch from his clothing.  “You must trust us.”  He opened the pouch and took out a small round black thing about the size of a coin and placed it on the floor between them then lit it.  The center of it glowed red and it gave off a rising gray smoke.

“What is that?”  It smelled musty but pleasant and he could feel all his tension slowly melting away.  Niklaus’ eyes lazily followed the swirling smoke as it exited the hole in the ceiling. 

“Incense.  Breathe it in and try to relax.”  The Tangarian’s voice seemed to call to him from a distance, though he knew he was just a couple of feet away.  “Look at me.” 

Niklaus stared across at him, feeling himself being pulled in to the intense darkness within the elf’s eyes.  He could feel him inside his mind, like fingers rifling through his memories as if they were pages in a book.  Niklaus saw them too, as if he and Khu were one being, seeing them cycle in front of them in flashes.  They started from the beginning with things he had been too young to remember, he thought, but there they were. 

He saw his home again, before the villagers had burned it to the ground.  There was fresh snow on the roof, smoke rising from the chimney.  Although it was just a memory it was like being there again.  Niklaus had little time to reminisce as in a moment it was gone, replaced by his father’s face.  He was lying in bed, dying in front of him again.  Then he was digging his grave, struggling against the hard earth.  He could almost feel the sweat on his skin, stinging his eyes, could almost feel the soil cake on his hands. 

He saw himself tie the rope around the beam in his ceiling, and pull the noose over his head, not exactly ready to die but not certain how to live.  All these feelings rushed through him, unable to keep up with the speed of what he was being shown.  He wanted it over and could was straining against it.  Niklaus didn’t think he could stop it but he fought to speed it along; he wouldn’t have this Tangarian seeing everything! 

Everything sped up after that, as if following his desperate command.  Then there was Roger, Fallahn’s hold, Athalla and the beginnings of a journey that went in front of their eyes so quickly, if he hadn’t lived it, it wouldn’t make sense.  Again Khu had pulled back the curtain to the hut and placed the incense on the floor, but strangely it didn’t stop there. 

At this point they had ceased being memories and began to move faster, too fast for Niklaus to discern what was happening.  They swirled together, forming a bright circle of blue light that pulsed angrily.  He felt as if the world was ending.  The circle took up his whole vision, making him ache.  Someone cried out; was that him?  He felt the dull ache grow into an intense pain in his chest.  The circle was a rip in the world, it was a wound and he could feel its pain ripping through him as if he was being torn to pieces.

Niklaus squeezed his eyes shut and everything was dark.  His heart was hammering in his chest; his hands balled into fists on his lap.  Sweat had broken out over his body and his head throbbed.  He opened his eyes, seeing the Tangarian sitting across from him.  The incense was just a small pile of ash now between them; the smoke had long since dissipated though the smell lingered.  The feeling remained.

“What was that?” he demanded, “What did you do to me?”

“I apologize.” His voice was shaky.  The Tangarian seemed to be feeling what he was feeling, as if all he had experienced he had as well.  Sweat beaded across his dark brow and he wiped it away with the back of one of his large hands.  Niklaus could care less whether he was sorry or not.  “I had not expected…” he trailed off, taking in a deep breath.  “Where was that circle?  Did you see where it came from?  What does it mean?”

Niklaus tried to stand; he wanted to get away from this man.  He was no longer in his mind but he could still feel where he had been and he had seen everything!  All that he was, all that he had known.  The elf had invaded him!  Niklaus legs were like lead however and he fell back on his backside, having not the strength to drag himself up.

“How dare you!” he scrambled away from him, pressing his back against the wall of the hut.  Niklaus could feel his magic prickling along his skin, feeding off his anger.  “Stay back!”

“You’re all right now.  Try to remain calm.”  Niklaus breathed heavily, cringing when the Tangarian stood and moved to crouch over him.  He handed him a flask.  “Drink this.  It will help you recover.”

“No.  Leave me alone.  Don’t touch me.”  Khu sighed and sat next to him, still holding the flask in his hands.  Niklaus wanted to knock it from his hands but was too frightened to reach out.  Niklaus had killed before, the Tangarian had seen it.  He hadn’t meant to; he didn’t want it to happen again but with the way he felt now anything could happen.  “What magic was that?  What did you do to me?”

“It was the incense which brought us together then.  I have no magic.  Tangarians as a whole don’t possess the gift,” he explained.  The words didn’t help him relax.  The incense was gone, but it didn’t change the fact that it allowed this man to enter his mind and violate his memories.  “It won’t happen again.”

“I don’t expect there’s any need since you already know everything!”

“Drink this.” His tone was patient and it grated on his nerves.  “It will ease the pain in your head.  I can feel it too.”

“You first.” 

He watched the Tangarian take a sip from the flask and waited for something awful to happen.  The only thing he noticed was that the elf’s face relaxed.  After a moment Khu held the flask out to him once more.  He yanked it from his hands and drank some himself. It tasted terrible and left a powdery, grainy substance lingering on his tongue.  His headache was gone, the feeling of his building magic subsiding, but his anger remained.

“I felt I had to do it.  With you much is hidden.  Hestia and Kavel told me that.” He distanced himself then, giving Niklaus some space to recover.  “When you entered our discussion with your friends I could tell by looking at you that you didn’t realize the full extent of your gift.  Kavel’s words unnerved me; he sees much which is hidden from mortal perception, but if he believes in you so do I.”

“Mortal perception?”

“He is forever,” Khu said as if it was obvious, but it only raised more questions.  “We are not discussing him.  It is you we are discussing.”

What could that mean?  How could someone be forever?  Khu seemed to read these questions in his eyes and shook his head.  The Tangarian wouldn’t explain that, as he expected, not that he was in the right mind to form such questions.  He wanted to get away from this Tangarian as quickly as possible.

“Should I want your help after that?” Niklaus could see what looked like remorse in his expression but could hardly care. “How could you possibly help me if you don’t have magic?”

“You will learn,” he said, echoing Kavel’s cryptic words from earlier.  “You must be open.”

The curtain to the hut lifted and Athalla poked her head in.  “What are you doing in here?  The celebration is outside.”

“Perhaps we have talked enough,” Khu said and helped Niklaus to his feet.  “Let’s rejoin the festivities.”  Niklaus looked into his eyes, the blackness within them making the hairs on the back on his neck stand on end.  “You are safe here.”

Athalla latched onto his hand and pulled him out of the hut.  Niklaus looked back to see the Tangarian emerge as well, and walk back to Kavel and Roger sitting away from the circle of dancers. 

“Why’d you hide yourself away like that?”  She laughed at him and dragged him into the crowd of dancing elves.  Perhaps she was too inebriated to realize he wasn’t in the mood for this.

“I don’t feel like dancing, Athalla.”

“You will dance with me,” she said.  Her tone was firm, allowing him no escape.  She frowned up at him.  Niklaus had so much to tell her but he didn’t know where to begin. It certainly couldn’t do it in the middle of these flailing elves.  “You’re just standing there!”  Athalla pulled him out of the circle.  “Ro’kirr!”

Niklaus saw Roger attempt to stand but Kavel stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.  The Tangarian and the elf seemed to argue then.  “What’s going on?” she asked him but how could he know?  She sobered then as they watched the two elves argue heatedly across the thief.  He didn’t want Roger anywhere near Khu after what had happened.  He didn’t trust that Tangarian, no matter how apologetic he seemed.  “What did that Tangarian say to you?”

“Now you’re interested?”  Niklaus watched as Roger shoved his way past the two arguing elves and walked over, glancing over his shoulder.  “Tell me what that was about,” he said.

“Kavel wants us separated.”

“What…” He threw a hard look at the elf with the odd eyes. “Why?”

“I’m a ‘distraction’,” the thief had an edge in his voice.  He narrowed his eyes at Athalla.  “What do you want, elf?”

Athalla glanced at Niklaus.  “I—I just…”

“Yes?” Roger hissed impatiently.  “Spit it out!”

“I just wanted everyone to have a good time,” her voice was small and she looked as if she was about to cry.  “I—I’m…”

“Never mind that,” Niklaus said, cutting across her sputtering words; they had more important things to discuss.  “We need to talk.”

“We can’t!” The thief shoved him back a few steps.  “Didn’t you hear me? He says it’s for your own good.”  He was flushed with anger.  It was infectious but Niklaus was already livid from the Tangarian’s invasion.  They were clearly insane!

He grabbed onto his shoulders and shook him.  “I don’t care what he said!” Niklaus shouted and then suddenly everything was quiet. 

The drums had stopped and all the dancing elves sat down around the many pointed sun carved on the cavern floor.  Everyone was staring at them.  Even Kavel and Khu had stopped their arguing, joining the elves in the circle.  He stepped away from Roger, suddenly feeling so much more out of place.

“She’s gone,” Athalla whispered and fell to her knees. 

“What are you talking about?”

---

Hestia had died that night, bringing the celebration to an abrupt halt.  She had been cold to them, and Kavel had said she resented their choice to keep him here, but Niklaus didn’t blame her and he certainly hadn’t expected her to die.   There was no body; it was as if she had disappeared completely, leaving behind all her belongings and people.  The elves seemed to feel her passing, even Athalla, who never knew her.  Niklaus thought it had been a long time coming.  The woman had looked as if she had been on the edge of death for some time.

  For days she was mourned in silence and he was kept away from the others, sequestered alone in Kavel’s hut.  He was brought water and food but Kavel didn’t join him.  He seemed more profoundly affected by her death, and had shaved his head.  He sat with him quietly on the floor of the hut, Niklaus hesitant to break the silence first.  He hadn’t seen the elf eat or drink for days.  Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen him eat at all.

“Our customs must seem strange to you,” Kavel said.  Niklaus had not heard him speak for so long he had nearly forgotten what he sounded like. 

“Why did you shave your head?”  The elf turned his head toward him and Niklaus regretted his question immediately, seeing pain flicker in his strange eyes.  “I’m sorry.  That was a rude question.”

“No… I am not sure how to answer,” he said.  “She was mine.”  Niklaus didn’t know what to say; that made things clearer.  “Have you felt loss?”  He nodded but didn’t want to discuss it.  He supposed everyone dealt with this sort of thing differently.  And no doubt Khu had told him all there was to know about his past.  “She had been dying for a long time.”

“There was no way to help her?  She seemed ill…”  Niklaus trailed off as the elf didn’t seem to be listening anymore.

“Her time had passed.  Who am I to question?” Kavel seemed to say to himself.  It seemed ages before he spoke again; he looked so lost.  His voice was low and troubled.  “You are stronger than Hestia; I can taste it.  But you are human and this will not be easy for you.”