Castle Shyr

This section was originally going to be longer.... but Loki said Loki liked it where it ended here -so it ends there. :)

Lots of Johan and Noya... I really REALLY promise you there is man-on-man action.... and perhaps someday I'll get around to writing some off-the-wall stuff... along with that Lee X Gaara fic....


The tension between them was captivating. Troydt had attempted, at first, to figure out what the problem was, to talk to them and break them apart from what seemed like an impending fight - but he’d given up after a few minutes. There was a smirk across his face as he leaned up against the wall of the loft, arms crossed over his chest as the duo continued to eat their dinner in a strange sort of silence.

Something had transpired between them - Troydt was sure of that much. It was something potentially, life-threateningly embarrassing, and they were aware of the awkward state between them. Instead of trying to avoid each other, fumbling over their words and tripping themselves up, they’d gone for the extreme opposite, and it showed. It was like they were trying to hate each other.

Johan narrowed his eyes a slight bit in response to the snarling noise Noya made when he dropped his roll, unwilling to break eye contact for even a second so he could pick it up correctly. His head wrap was gone, a bit premature in it’s departure, but his devilish hair seemed over-joyed, springing everywhere it could. A few strands decided to fall in front of his eyes, as if they were as eager as him to stop this stupid little contest.

“You should just cut it all off.” Noya spat, taking a swig of whatever Troydt had brought them - oddly enough she hadn’t asked or paid enough attention to figure out what it was she was drinking.

“Ha. It wouldn’t help - it would just grow back the same way.” Johan scoffed. Troydt scratched his head, attempting to keep back a laugh. Somehow they were arguing while holding a perfectly normal conversation.

“Then keep it off.”

“Sorry. Nanion don’t do the ‘bald’ thing.” Johan growled, gripping his fork so hard his knuckles turned white. Noya let out what appeared to be a sigh of relief; Troydt knitted his eyebrows together.

“Thank the gods,” Noya spat, fanning herself in a moment of vain femininity (false to the core), “you’d look ridiculous with no hair and those ears.”

There was a pause, during which Troydt was sure there was a ringing in his ears: The air was that thick. He sighed as Johan put down his plate and turned away, putting his back to the Tev.

“Thanks Troydt, but I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

“You still don’t know how to deal with Tev, flute-player.” Noya snarled, quick on her feet as Troydt walked over to take their plates, “putting your back to the enemy is a good way to get killed.” Noya tried to keep her face blank as Johan slowly turned to look at her from over his shoulder, lifting a green eyebrow incredulously.

“Gee, you think?” He stood and brushed off his pants, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m going to get some fresh air.” He spat, turning and stomping from the loft.

‘You liked my ears well enough last night,’ yeah. That’s what he should have said. He kicked a stone out from in front of him then paused and ran over to pick it up. He hoisted it into the air and threw it as far as he could, listening with a dull sort of satisfaction as it thudded against something in the distance. He slumped dejectedly against the cool wall of the barn and crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze resting on the ground.

What had gotten into them? Into him? It had been just like any other night, there was the fighting, the name-calling, the insults, the stares, the tossing of various objects - but then. He sighed and dropped his arms to run a hand through his hair. He couldn’t even remember how it happened - had he jumped her, or had she jumped him? Had they spoken? What had they said? All he could remember was waking up nearly buried beneath the hay, feeling as if he’d drunk all the beer in Nanio - though he hadn’t had a drop.

That’s why Tev and Nanion weren’t supposed to mix, he decided, because things like that happened. He was achy and sore, and she was more bitchy than usual. She was a woman, right?

He snorted and slammed his fist into the barn in frustration, rubbing at his temples where a light rhythm had begun to throb. Yes - Tev and Nanion shouldn’t mix.

He heard a slight step to the right, a pause, and then the steps continued down the stairs. He told himself it wasn’t Noya - even when he recognized the back tilted ears on the shadow. She didn’t say anything, which was fine as far as he was concerned, he didn’t know what he would say to her either. She eventually moved to stand against the wall like him, a good few feet away. He heard her click her tongue against the roof of her mouth,; sigh once, twice, three times; cross her arms roughly over her chest; take a deep breath and open her mouth.

“I’m going back inside,” He spat quickly, looking up suddenly to catch her rather off-balance gaze, “there’s suddenly a chill in the air.” He continued, his voice and face conveying nothing of what his words proposed. He wished them too. He wished his tone would be dark and strange, he wished he could pull his face into a scowl worthy of her people. He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t.

She narrowed her eyes slowly as he stared at her for a moment longer, as if trying to convince himself to do something he couldn’t. She tightened her arms over her torso as he pushed away from the wall.

He was such an arrogant bastard - did he honestly think this was all her idea? That she had pulled him into it? She hadn’t! Had she? She let out a deep growl and squeezed her eyes shut, hearing his boots crush grass as he started to move. He acted like he had been wronged, she was the prisoner - she should call it rape. The truth was, she couldn’t remember any more than he could. She woke up bare as the day she was born, draped over the straw-strewn boards like a whore, aching and throbbing all over. She almost wished she could have felt violated, instead of feeling what she did feel.

She snapped out her hand and it immediately latched onto Johan’s upper arm, causing him to stop with such force he almost fell over.

The things she would say to him - oh she would set him straight. She took a deep breath, narrowing her eyes to the point of snake-slits as she saw his eyes dart to her rising bosom, back to her deadly stare.

“Where do you think you’re going?” She spat, her voice echoing what he wanted his to be.

“I told you, upstairs.” He snarled, sounding as confused as she felt.

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it!” She shouted, body livid with his anger.

“Sorry - I don’t speak Tev!” He hissed, shaking with her insecurities.

There was a pause before they snapped, completely broke in half. He bent his knees, balling his hands into fists as he prepared to leap upon her like a beast. She reared back and away from the wall, lifting her arms to rain violence upon him.

A scream brought Troydt tumbling down the stairs, into the middle of the death match.

“Shut up!” He shouted, quieting them both like spoiled children as he tilted his head to the side, eyes darting right to left as he listened for the scream again. At first Johan and Noya weren’t sure if they should continue to glare at each other over Troydt’s shoulder, or feign interest in the scream - the second call brought them their decision as all three ran towards the voice.

“Help! Somebody please, help!”

“Hang on!” Troydt answered, easily outpacing Noya and Johan in his rush to reach the distraught woman. He had a fleeting thought that shouting was probably a bad idea - for now whatever enemy might be lurking now knew the woman had friends and would either take off before he could receive justice, or bring back reinforcements.

Troydt skidded to a halt next to an older Nanion, crouched on the ground, cradling a young human boy in her arms. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, panting for a moment before he stared hard at the child, his body locking up.

Johan slowed to a trot as he saw Troydt nearly fall to his knees beside the woman. His blood wasn’t pumping full-force yet, but his senses were on the alert, every little sound making him hold his breath. He could tell Noya was tense as well, her knees were bent and she was scanning the darkness like a predator guarding her catch. Johan sneered.

“I-it came out of nowhere.” The Nanion woman gasped between sobs, shaking her head. “He was standing there, talking to me when - when it just fell from the sky! Hit him between the eyes! Oh-oh gods!” The woman bellowed, the child completely shielded in her arms.

Johan’s eyes slowly grew wide and he felt a terrible guilt well up inside of him. His wayward rock - he knew he had heard it hit something. He’d given some child a black eye, or broke his nose and completely knocked him out. He saw Noya straining to get a view of the child, curious now that she had apparently deducted there were no enemies lurking in wait.

Johan lifted his gaze to Troydt, not surprised to see the man shaking.

“T-troydt-” He began, his voice apologetic, startling Noya a bit.

“Go.” Troydt whispered in a deep voice. “G-go back to the loft an-and wait for me to send word.” He slowly turned to look at them, his eyes promising death. “Gather your things.. Quietly.”

Johan frowned deeply. In his opinion kicking them out was a bit harsh for a bloody nose and an upset grandma, but if Troydt wanted them out - Johan would take Noya and leave. Troydt had offered them food and shelter, and never asked for any payment, not that they could afford to pay him anyway. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Right.” He said simply, turning and taking a few steps back towards the barn before he noticed Noya was not following him. “Noya,” he hissed, turning his head to look over his shoulder at her, “come on.”

“What’s going on?” Noya asked sternly, straightening up and glaring at the back of Troydt’s head. The man took a deep breath.

“I hit the kid with a rock-”

“We are under attack-”

The voices were simultaneous. Noya stepped back to look at the both of them as Troydt and Johan regarded each other in bewilderment.

“What did you say?” Johan whispered, knitting his eyebrows together.

“I said, we are under attack.” Troydt repeated slowly, standing up, leaving the woman to continue sobbing.

“No- no. I threw a stone, I was angry - and hit the kid.. There’s no need to jump to-”

“Johan, you did not hit this child.” Troydt said in a strangely concerned way. Johan looked up at him and made a small noise. Troydt suddenly looked very ill. His skin was a gray pale and his face seemed to be pulled too tight over his skull. Noya took another step back, craning her neck to see the boy. Johan’s heart stopped as the Tev reached up to cover her mouth, looking away with wide eyes. He slowly turned to look back at Troydt.

“An archer - hit this child.”

Johan stumbled backwards roughly, groping in the darkness behind him for anything he could use to steady himself. Despite how he tried not to, his mind began conjuring up images of what the child looked like - the woman had said, oh gods, between the eyes.

“Go back to the loft.” Troydt repeated, his voice surreally stoic. “Gather your things. Await word from me.”

“R-right.” Noya said, startling the others a bit. She turned and started at a slow, stiff walk back through the foliage. Her body was shaking, completely against her will, and she couldn’t stop it no matter how hard she tried. She grew up in the Swamps of Tevlar, blood, gore and violence were not new to her, not even when children were involved, but something about this struck a strange chord within her - leaving her insides practically vibrating of their own will. She heard light, unsure footsteps beside her and slowly turned her gaze to watch Johan’s face - blank.

“The arrow?” Johan asked, barely turning his gaze to meet Noya’s. The tension between them had dwindled, but there was something else now, something he couldn’t put his finger on, and he found himself wishing for the tension again.

Noya stiffened and straightened up a bit, feeling a flare of indignation course through her veins at Johan’s question. He wanted to know if it was a Tev archer.

“That was no Tev arrow,” she spat quickly, feeling simultaneously relieved and offended. “It looked bulky- for all I know it could have been a Nanion.”

She cocked her head to one side to look at him as he stopped walking, scanning the ground with rather frightened eyes. She turned, pointing her ears at him as she saw something striking in his expression - realization.

“Yeah,” he whispered, his voice sounding rather awestruck, “I-it could have been a Nanion, couldn’t it? That-that boy was human, right?” He ventured, noting the rounded ears of the crying woman the moment they arrived. It seemed trivial then. He lifted his head as Noya merely nodded.

There was every possibility it could have been a Nanion archer. Johan could only vaguely recall what Nanion arrows looked like, and following a sinking feeling in his stomach he recalled they were rather bulky - heavy but sharp. The boy was human, which meant there was a possibility for Nanion/Human relations to be bad in this area, after all, Johan knew nothing of humans until he landed in Nicloth, how did he know Nanion in the area treated them kindly? Perhaps the humans were to the Nanion like they themselves were to the Tev - victims of needless slaughter.

Johan felt sick.

Noya turned again for the barn and let out a sigh, resisting the urge to say something nasty.

“We should get back to the loft quickly,” she said after a few steps forward, “so that we’re ready when he decides what to do with us.”

“When he decides what to do with us?” Johan repeated in a stale tone, starting up behind the Tev. Noya frowned, not quite sure how she felt about his suddenly compliant behavior. She was used to tension, but now that that was gone she felt uneasy, restless and alert.

“Well, obviously he has to decide if we’re going to be escorted out; told to make a run for it; conned into fighting for the village; told to stay hidden; etc. So get you’re head out of the pity party and start preparing yourself.”

“Pity party?” Johan repeated incredulously as the duo started up the stairs. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Is that your idea of sympathy?”

“Listen, idiot, it’s about time you started to see things as what they really are. People kill, whether they be Tev, Nanion, human, whatever - that’s just the way things are. Everyone has that stunning little realization moment when they see that their race is really no different from the others. Unfortunately most of the time they’re not allotted the time to let this sink in.”

“Everyone huh? You have one of these moments, Tev?” He grumbled, haphazardly shoving his things into his bag and noticing, with a slight bit of a smirk, that she was doing the same thing.

“As a matter of fact, I did.” Noya repeated smartly, pounding down the items to make more room. How had she fit all this in there in the first place? “The Tev are no exception, we just realize things a bit earlier than the rest of Nanio. Everyone is born with a certain degree of hopeful ignorance, the Nanion just tend to hold that out until adulthood, when it becomes stupidity. The Tev get a few slaps in the face, and learn to forget about it.”

“Sounds wonderful.” Johan muttered, closing the flap on his bag. He paused and looked quickly back up as Noya did the same, letting out a loud groan which caused the Tev to look up with a quirked brow.

“What?” She demanded.

“Well, now that we’re both packed we get to sit here until Troydt arrives, marvelous..” He gave a shrug and shook his head. Noya just stared, flabbergasted for a moment or two before she stood up.

“You’re cracking jokes?”

Johan raised his eyebrows and shook his head lightly.

“I heard no punch line.”

“This man’s village is under attack and you’re trying to be funny!?” She hissed, pointing viciously at him. He narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Everyone has their own way of dealing with things, Princess.” She blanched at this. “From what I’ve gathered you just sort of sit back and accept it, it pretty much swallows everything about you, doesn’t it?” Her eyes became dangerous slits. “I crack jokes. I’ve done it ever since I can remember - it’s just my way of staying sane. Got it?”

“Well,” Noya grumbled, her voice low as she balled her hands into fists. “You won’t have to worry about staying sane much longer - because I am going to kill you.”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit much for an attempt at lightening the mood?”

“A child is dead! You don’t ‘lighten the mood’ when people are being killed!”

“This, coming from a Tev, is highly amusing.”

“That’s it, flute-player.” Noya snarled, throwing her hands in the air. “Why is it that every insult you’ve given me thus far rests solely on the fact that I’m Tev?” She narrowed her eyes. “You ever think that the only real difference between Tev and Nanion is the one people like you make?” She scoffed as she watched him flinch, then pause. Whether he was actually taking her words to heart, or just stunned at them in general, she didn’t care: What mattered was that he’d given her to opening she needed.

She balled her hands into fists and prepared to make her move when a muffled cry from directly below the window stopped both their hearts. Noya bent down slowly to retrieve the dagger from the hidden sheath on her leg, while Johan picked up a heavy rock. (Searching through his bag for a weapon would not only be noisy, but he doubted he’d be able to find the damned thing before the loft was breached.)

Noya seemed to have realized this also.

“You’re brilliant.”

“Shut up.”

The duo was silenced by footsteps up the stairs. The steps paused, raced back down two stairs, stomped, then ran back up the remaining stairs quickly.

“Come on, you two,” Troydt whispered loudly, ignoring the strange (and almost threatening) looks he received, “I have a favor to ask.”

“A favor?” Groaned Noya, wondering how she had gotten dragged into the equation. She was a prisoner, after all, she needed to start acting like it.

“The rest of the village has already been under siege for a half hour.” Troydt said, as if he hadn’t heard Noya. “I was sent two messengers, but they have yet to be found.”

“Half an hour!” Johan fairly shouted, following Troydt quickly down the stairs. “And we didn’t hear anything? How!”

“Partly because Nicloth is not only large and far that way, but because only the far-far south side has been breached.”

“And?” Noya prodded, hearing hesitation in Troydt’s voice.

“And because humans are silent killers.”

“Humans.” Johan muttered as they reached the bottom of the stairs. He sounded strange, not relieved, yet not angry. He looked up from his boots and cocked his head slightly to one side, seeing immediately the cause of the muffled cry.

A carriage of sorts was parked outside the loft, attached to a rather young and frightened looking gelding. On the sloping, hastily railed ‘carriage’ sat four young Nanion. Johan recognized Rolin and Tuscho (the later of which was gagged) from his arrival in Nicloth, but the younger two he didn’t know. Lib was standing off to the side of the carriage, kissing one of the children. Johan quirked a brow.

“My grandfather has not yet given word to evacuate,” Troydt began, contempt thick in his voice, “but I have advised the women and children to take leave. They are being escorted in three different directions, so as not to draw attention to themselves - but, I need someone to take these four to the Shyriol.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Noya, shut up.” Johan spat quickly, moving to stand across from Troydt.

“It is a straight shot that way. It should not take you long at all - I-I would take them myself, but this is my home. I must protect it.” He paused as Lib slowly walked over and took his arm. “Li-Lib is staying also.” He lifted a hand and gently laid it on Johan’s shoulder. “I am trusting to you the safety of my family, Johan. I know it is a lot to ask, and I have no right to do so, but please. Reefa and Zeke mean the world to me, and Rolin and Tuscho are too young to face brutality like this.” He looked away, meeting Lib’s gaze for a moment. “We have - Lib has, relatives in the Shyriol. A man by the name of Yaro. He owns a bar, if memory serves me right.” He nodded and turned to look back at Johan. “I have very little money to offer you, and you may keep the horses - if you wish, or sell them, if you are in need of money - I do not care.” He shook his head and tears began to pool in the corners of his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak again, but Johan stopped him, reaching up to grab his wrist.

“I promise you, Troydt- if it costs me my life - I will get them to the Shyriol. To safety.”

“Thank you.”

“The Shryiol, are you kidding?” Noya growled, making her way in to the circle that had formed. “We won’t make it. We’ll be like sitting ducks! You realize we’ll have to pass directly through human territory to get there!? Are you insane!”

The smack was so loud Troydt found himself looking for storm clouds to produce such thunder. When he finally brought his eyes downward he saw the most shocked expression he’d ever seen - on Noya’s face. Johan - Johan had slapped her. Hard.

“You listen to me,” Johan started, taking a step towards the girl. “You are my prisoner.” He took another step and Noya, despite her seething anger, stepped back as well - though she immediately rolled her shoulders forward to compensate. “It’s about time I remember that. I’ll make a deal with you, though it goes against everything I believe in,” he snarled, feeling a sort of dim satisfaction as he realized she was having difficulty holding his gaze, “if you help me with this, if you cooperate and behave - I’ll release you once we reach the Shyriol. You’ll be free to go.”

“I’m not,” she spat slowly, lowering her hand to reveal a throbbing red mark, “a child.”

“You certainly act enough like one.”

“Look who’s talking!”

“Shut up! Just- stop it! Listen - just- help me, with this - and I promise, the moment the Shyriol is in view, you’re free as a bird. No questions asked, no authorities alerted, no arrow to the back - free to go.”

“Please,” the duo turned their heads as Lib clasped her hands at her chest, taking a small step forward despite Troydt’s hand on her shoulder, “Please. I beg of you..”

There was a pause, when slowly every set of eyes turned to watch the Tev. She narrowed a cold, purple gaze and balled her hands into fists, listening with a growl in her throat at the creak of leather against her palm. She shoved her dagger back into her sheath and stomped, much like a child, towards the horse drawing the carriage.

“Thank you.” Lib called after her, wiping her eyes.

“Ha,” Noya snorted, crossing her arms over her chest -back to the group. “I’m not doing this because you pleaded with me - I’m doing this because there’s something in it for me. Tev don’t answer to pleas - they answer to bribes.”