Second Sight
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Category:
Fantasy & Science Fiction › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
1,804
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Manning the Home Fires
Title: Second Sight
Author: MakaiKitty
Rating: NC-17 (overall)
Category: Original Fantasy, "Strings of Fate" storyline, Direct sequel to "Perceived Perceptions", An Eye of the Beholder Book
Pairing: Liam/Jasim, Tamall/Danne, Others
Warnings: Slash, M/M, Anal, Oral, Daemon Sex, Blood-play, BDSM, Violence, Mentions of past child abuse, Angst, Language, Death
Distribution: My website, My LJ and any LJs I choose to post at, AFF.net, and FicWad. All of my accounts are under the user name MakaiKitty. If you'd like to use it just let me know.
Disclaimer: The characters, daemon realms, and situations in this story are all original and belong solely to MakaiKitty. Please don't steal, borrow, take, or otherwise use anything from my fics.
Updates: Just join my YahooGroup to be informed of any updates to this or any of my other fics - http://groups.yahoo.com/group/makaikittyfics
Status: Work In Progress/Novel Length
Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay. I told you guys from the start that the posts wouldn't be regular, but I hope that I haven't put anybody off too much with the delay. Let me know what you think of this chapter, if you're still reading.
Chapter Eight: Manning the Home Fires
“How goes the prince’s training?”
“Quite well,” Rizalina said as she settled at her partner’s side, speaking quietly so as not to interrupt their king as he went about the business of state a few scant feet in front of them, “Liam was right, he’s a natural with the smaller blades. Accurate, controlled, and his temperament will keep him from getting too carried away and being forced into making mistakes. Shame that he’s absolutely awful with a long sword.”
Balint cast a glance sideways, almost but not quite mocking the other daemon for saying something so obvious, “The smallest blade that is available, that can still be called a long sword anyway, is very nearly as long as he is. What else do you expect?”
“I’d manage,” Rizalina all but dared him to say otherwise.
“Yes,” he admitted readily, “You would. And you have. But, then again, you are not the average daemon. There is much that you would do that others could not hope to achieve.”
Rizalina was obviously satisfied with that answer, and her head was held high, a slight smile playing on her handsome face, as she turned to face the room once again. Balint sighed quietly, relief evident in the small sound. He would not, as he had feared, have to sleep in the barracks when night fell.
“Prince Blaise must be proud,” Balint knew what his mate was thinking. Seventy-five years was more than enough time to learn to read someone, even if they were a guarded ertana warrior, and it was with great effort that the large man suppressed a smirk. His Rizalina was almost cute when her pride was challenged. Or at least she would have been had the word cute not been at complete odds with everything that the deadly witch was. “He and Liam have worked hard at making up for lost time with our young royal.”
“That they have,” she didn’t particularly enjoy the days when she was forced to stand guard in the royal audience chamber, so as she and Balint spoke Rizalina amused herself by trying to figure out how many weapons the visiting duke’s personal guard had on him, certain that she was noticing a few that the other man surely thought well hidden. She considered telling the man as much when his master was done with their king, but one glance to her side and she was forced to abandon the idea. Both Liam and Balint had spoken to her about baiting visiting guards. Multiple times. She didn’t want to be the one being denied that night. “That they have. However…”
“However?” Balint questioned when Rizalina’s voice trailed off into nothingness.
“If they would but allow me to train the child-“
Balint cut her off before she could go further, the argument old by now, “If we let you train him then our young prince would need a healer by the end of his first lesson.”
“But he would learn.”
That hadn’t been his fear.
“The king received word from the captain this morning,” Balint could tell from the restless energy coming off of his partner that it was best to keep her distracted. He didn’t like the way that she was eying the duke’s guard, and he knew that if he didn’t keep her talking then her mind would have far too much time to come up with ways to annoy the visitor. He’d promised Liam that he would keep things in order while he was gone, and letting Rizalina start yet another incident with the gentry’s warriors would not be the sort of thing that he wanted to put into his report once his superior officer returned home. “I’m starting to wonder if I shouldn’t have sent you with him.”
“Why?” Balint instantly had Rizalina’s full attention, “Has something gone wrong? I can use a transport spell and be there within the hour.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” a hand on her shoulder stilled Rizalina, who had already been making a move for the concealed door that she had entered through, “Liam is fine, my love, he just isn’t finding Paaragora to his liking.”
“Of course he isn’t,” she sneered, reluctantly settling back into something resembling a proper stance, somewhat disappointed at not being able to ride to the rescue and battle at her captain’s side, “I could have told him that. All that water. So little land. Who could possibly enjoy a trip to that ridiculous island?”
“I don’t think it’s the island that has thrown our captain so thoroughly,” Balint answered cryptically, having learned more from what Liam had not said than what he had. “But he’ll make it through. He is our captain.”
“Of course he’ll make it,” Rizalina looked to the other daemon as though he had gone mad, as though there had never been any doubt that Liam would make do no matter the hardships that he faced on his mission, so complete was her belief in their leader.
Balint touched her shoulder by way of apology. He hadn’t meant for his words to make implications about their captain. It took much to claim a place in Rizalina’s heart, he knew by experience, but the captain had and so she would defend his name to her last breath. An insult to her captain became an insult to her.
“Speaking of problems,” Rizalina said, her eyes on the scene before her but her attention solely for Balint, “I heard something very interesting today.”
Balint waited. Rizalina continued.
“Seems that some of our old friends may be plotting something in the south,” she kept her voice low, conspiratorial, not willing to risk any of the visitors overhearing, “And, if the rumors are true, it may even have something to do with Paaragora.”
“And by old friends, you mean…” Balint let his words trail off again. He knew the glint in those rust colored eyes. Rizalina was excited, and that, more than anything else, piqued his interest.
“It’s just a rumor,” Rizalina cautioned, “But it seems that we have not heard the last of our late king’s favorite advisors.”
“Nigel and Alfridi?” Balint was confused. He hadn’t thought the two percurians dangerous when they’d left the castle shortly after King Samuel’s death, heads bowed in shame, unwilling to meet the eyes of anyone in the new regime. They’d seemed thoroughly defeated at the time.
“If what I have heard is true, and I have no reason to believe it is not, then they have used their ill-gotten fortunes to purchase a pair of mercenaries.”
“Mercenaries,” Balint scoffed, torn between incredulous laughter and being offended that the two daemons thought that two assassins would be enough to take out their captain, “Liam will not even break a sweat if that is all that they think to throw at him. I dare say that he’ll be disappointed.”
“I would not be quite so quick to think so,” Rizalina admitted reluctantly, “A personal vendetta can give an otherwise under qualified assassin the strength to carry out his mission where others might fail.”
“And by personal vendetta, you mean…”
“I’ve heard whispers that Danne of the Carvarian Clan has not forgotten the disgrace he suffered while within these walls.”
“Nor should he,” Balint growled. Danne. He had hoped never to hear that name again. But, it seemed, he was not to be so fortunate. Nor was his captain. If the man had not escaped the year prior then Balint had been willing to fight his captain for the honor of beheading the deceitful daemon with his own hands. He still was.
“He is not alone,” Rizalina continued, certain of where her partner’s mind was currently, “Tamall is with him as well, I am told. I’m not entirely sure of his motivations, one can never tell with that madman, but if he has committed himself to his mission then he will most definitely become a problem. The two of them together? I don’t know what they might accomplish.”
“Absolutely nothing,” Balint said with certainty, “But, all the same, contact the captain at the first available opportunity. He should know what he needs to be on the lookout for before he leaves the island.”
“Of course,” Rizalina nodded, “I suspect that he might even be happy to hear this news. He has long wanted his revenge on Danne, for what he did to our prince, and you know how the captain hates unfinished business.”
Balint’s smile was not a pleasant one as he remembered his captain’s tirade after having learned of Danne’s escape from the dungeons the year previous. It had been the closest that he had ever seen his captain to falling victim to one of his kind’s red-rages. If that had happened, Balint doubted that even the head start that Danne had gotten would have spared him from the terkarian’s wrath.
“Are we talking about Danne and Tamall?” Tabitha’s voice reached the back of the room where the two guards stood. Their guests had gone, the business of state finally over for another evening, and she was now free to take part in the conversation that she had been following for the past several minutes.
“Yes, my queen.”
“When you make your reports to Liam,” the king said, joining in as well, “Please suggest that he allow us to send him a few men as backup. I know that he won’t take my advice on the matter, but maybe one of you can change his mind.”
“I doubt it,” they said in unison.
“I just hope,” Cristopher said, resigned to the fact that the other two daemons were most likely right, “that, aside from this, his mission is going well.”
“Don’t fret, love,” Tabitha put a hand over her husband’s, smiling as she did, “Liam probably already has that poor, innocent child safely under his wing. He’ll protect the boy, ease his undoubtedly troubled mind, and they’ll both be home before you know it. Safe and sound.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Cristopher agreed, attempting to push his unease to the back of his mind in favor of his confidence regarding his best friend. Then, thinking on the situation and what his wife had just said, he couldn’t help but give a little laugh, “I just hope that the boy doesn’t cry. Liam never could handle seeing anyone cry.”
TBC ...
Author: MakaiKitty
Rating: NC-17 (overall)
Category: Original Fantasy, "Strings of Fate" storyline, Direct sequel to "Perceived Perceptions", An Eye of the Beholder Book
Pairing: Liam/Jasim, Tamall/Danne, Others
Warnings: Slash, M/M, Anal, Oral, Daemon Sex, Blood-play, BDSM, Violence, Mentions of past child abuse, Angst, Language, Death
Distribution: My website, My LJ and any LJs I choose to post at, AFF.net, and FicWad. All of my accounts are under the user name MakaiKitty. If you'd like to use it just let me know.
Disclaimer: The characters, daemon realms, and situations in this story are all original and belong solely to MakaiKitty. Please don't steal, borrow, take, or otherwise use anything from my fics.
Updates: Just join my YahooGroup to be informed of any updates to this or any of my other fics - http://groups.yahoo.com/group/makaikittyfics
Status: Work In Progress/Novel Length
Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay. I told you guys from the start that the posts wouldn't be regular, but I hope that I haven't put anybody off too much with the delay. Let me know what you think of this chapter, if you're still reading.
“How goes the prince’s training?”
“Quite well,” Rizalina said as she settled at her partner’s side, speaking quietly so as not to interrupt their king as he went about the business of state a few scant feet in front of them, “Liam was right, he’s a natural with the smaller blades. Accurate, controlled, and his temperament will keep him from getting too carried away and being forced into making mistakes. Shame that he’s absolutely awful with a long sword.”
Balint cast a glance sideways, almost but not quite mocking the other daemon for saying something so obvious, “The smallest blade that is available, that can still be called a long sword anyway, is very nearly as long as he is. What else do you expect?”
“I’d manage,” Rizalina all but dared him to say otherwise.
“Yes,” he admitted readily, “You would. And you have. But, then again, you are not the average daemon. There is much that you would do that others could not hope to achieve.”
Rizalina was obviously satisfied with that answer, and her head was held high, a slight smile playing on her handsome face, as she turned to face the room once again. Balint sighed quietly, relief evident in the small sound. He would not, as he had feared, have to sleep in the barracks when night fell.
“Prince Blaise must be proud,” Balint knew what his mate was thinking. Seventy-five years was more than enough time to learn to read someone, even if they were a guarded ertana warrior, and it was with great effort that the large man suppressed a smirk. His Rizalina was almost cute when her pride was challenged. Or at least she would have been had the word cute not been at complete odds with everything that the deadly witch was. “He and Liam have worked hard at making up for lost time with our young royal.”
“That they have,” she didn’t particularly enjoy the days when she was forced to stand guard in the royal audience chamber, so as she and Balint spoke Rizalina amused herself by trying to figure out how many weapons the visiting duke’s personal guard had on him, certain that she was noticing a few that the other man surely thought well hidden. She considered telling the man as much when his master was done with their king, but one glance to her side and she was forced to abandon the idea. Both Liam and Balint had spoken to her about baiting visiting guards. Multiple times. She didn’t want to be the one being denied that night. “That they have. However…”
“However?” Balint questioned when Rizalina’s voice trailed off into nothingness.
“If they would but allow me to train the child-“
Balint cut her off before she could go further, the argument old by now, “If we let you train him then our young prince would need a healer by the end of his first lesson.”
“But he would learn.”
That hadn’t been his fear.
“The king received word from the captain this morning,” Balint could tell from the restless energy coming off of his partner that it was best to keep her distracted. He didn’t like the way that she was eying the duke’s guard, and he knew that if he didn’t keep her talking then her mind would have far too much time to come up with ways to annoy the visitor. He’d promised Liam that he would keep things in order while he was gone, and letting Rizalina start yet another incident with the gentry’s warriors would not be the sort of thing that he wanted to put into his report once his superior officer returned home. “I’m starting to wonder if I shouldn’t have sent you with him.”
“Why?” Balint instantly had Rizalina’s full attention, “Has something gone wrong? I can use a transport spell and be there within the hour.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” a hand on her shoulder stilled Rizalina, who had already been making a move for the concealed door that she had entered through, “Liam is fine, my love, he just isn’t finding Paaragora to his liking.”
“Of course he isn’t,” she sneered, reluctantly settling back into something resembling a proper stance, somewhat disappointed at not being able to ride to the rescue and battle at her captain’s side, “I could have told him that. All that water. So little land. Who could possibly enjoy a trip to that ridiculous island?”
“I don’t think it’s the island that has thrown our captain so thoroughly,” Balint answered cryptically, having learned more from what Liam had not said than what he had. “But he’ll make it through. He is our captain.”
“Of course he’ll make it,” Rizalina looked to the other daemon as though he had gone mad, as though there had never been any doubt that Liam would make do no matter the hardships that he faced on his mission, so complete was her belief in their leader.
Balint touched her shoulder by way of apology. He hadn’t meant for his words to make implications about their captain. It took much to claim a place in Rizalina’s heart, he knew by experience, but the captain had and so she would defend his name to her last breath. An insult to her captain became an insult to her.
“Speaking of problems,” Rizalina said, her eyes on the scene before her but her attention solely for Balint, “I heard something very interesting today.”
Balint waited. Rizalina continued.
“Seems that some of our old friends may be plotting something in the south,” she kept her voice low, conspiratorial, not willing to risk any of the visitors overhearing, “And, if the rumors are true, it may even have something to do with Paaragora.”
“And by old friends, you mean…” Balint let his words trail off again. He knew the glint in those rust colored eyes. Rizalina was excited, and that, more than anything else, piqued his interest.
“It’s just a rumor,” Rizalina cautioned, “But it seems that we have not heard the last of our late king’s favorite advisors.”
“Nigel and Alfridi?” Balint was confused. He hadn’t thought the two percurians dangerous when they’d left the castle shortly after King Samuel’s death, heads bowed in shame, unwilling to meet the eyes of anyone in the new regime. They’d seemed thoroughly defeated at the time.
“If what I have heard is true, and I have no reason to believe it is not, then they have used their ill-gotten fortunes to purchase a pair of mercenaries.”
“Mercenaries,” Balint scoffed, torn between incredulous laughter and being offended that the two daemons thought that two assassins would be enough to take out their captain, “Liam will not even break a sweat if that is all that they think to throw at him. I dare say that he’ll be disappointed.”
“I would not be quite so quick to think so,” Rizalina admitted reluctantly, “A personal vendetta can give an otherwise under qualified assassin the strength to carry out his mission where others might fail.”
“And by personal vendetta, you mean…”
“I’ve heard whispers that Danne of the Carvarian Clan has not forgotten the disgrace he suffered while within these walls.”
“Nor should he,” Balint growled. Danne. He had hoped never to hear that name again. But, it seemed, he was not to be so fortunate. Nor was his captain. If the man had not escaped the year prior then Balint had been willing to fight his captain for the honor of beheading the deceitful daemon with his own hands. He still was.
“He is not alone,” Rizalina continued, certain of where her partner’s mind was currently, “Tamall is with him as well, I am told. I’m not entirely sure of his motivations, one can never tell with that madman, but if he has committed himself to his mission then he will most definitely become a problem. The two of them together? I don’t know what they might accomplish.”
“Absolutely nothing,” Balint said with certainty, “But, all the same, contact the captain at the first available opportunity. He should know what he needs to be on the lookout for before he leaves the island.”
“Of course,” Rizalina nodded, “I suspect that he might even be happy to hear this news. He has long wanted his revenge on Danne, for what he did to our prince, and you know how the captain hates unfinished business.”
Balint’s smile was not a pleasant one as he remembered his captain’s tirade after having learned of Danne’s escape from the dungeons the year previous. It had been the closest that he had ever seen his captain to falling victim to one of his kind’s red-rages. If that had happened, Balint doubted that even the head start that Danne had gotten would have spared him from the terkarian’s wrath.
“Are we talking about Danne and Tamall?” Tabitha’s voice reached the back of the room where the two guards stood. Their guests had gone, the business of state finally over for another evening, and she was now free to take part in the conversation that she had been following for the past several minutes.
“Yes, my queen.”
“When you make your reports to Liam,” the king said, joining in as well, “Please suggest that he allow us to send him a few men as backup. I know that he won’t take my advice on the matter, but maybe one of you can change his mind.”
“I doubt it,” they said in unison.
“I just hope,” Cristopher said, resigned to the fact that the other two daemons were most likely right, “that, aside from this, his mission is going well.”
“Don’t fret, love,” Tabitha put a hand over her husband’s, smiling as she did, “Liam probably already has that poor, innocent child safely under his wing. He’ll protect the boy, ease his undoubtedly troubled mind, and they’ll both be home before you know it. Safe and sound.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Cristopher agreed, attempting to push his unease to the back of his mind in favor of his confidence regarding his best friend. Then, thinking on the situation and what his wife had just said, he couldn’t help but give a little laugh, “I just hope that the boy doesn’t cry. Liam never could handle seeing anyone cry.”
TBC ...