Disclaimer: The characters and world which this fic takes place in belong to Mercedes Lackey, I state no claim except for the plot among my fellow fanfiction authors.
Destiny
By: Ayame
Chapter 1
"Look at her," one of Savil Ashkevron's cousins, Nickoletta said, flipping her golden curls over a shoulder as she gestured with a superior jerk of her head in Savil's direction. "Great Good Gods, thinks she's the Queen of Valdemar she does, prancin' 'round here with her head so high I bet she can't see past that nose of hers."
Her mother's maid, Lucy, giggled mindlessly, "more like the queen of beasts, spends so much time riding that horse of hers she smells just as bad as they do." Two other girls joined in on the conversation, eager to dissect their relative Savil and bring to light all her faults as a lady. Giggling echoed from the door they carelessly left open as they exited the horse stalls in favor of changing out of their riding gear and into something more comfortable for the solar.
Savil, who was in one of the last stalls brushing her prize mare -a deep red/brown and white paint named Serenity- would not have heard the conversation if not for the echo in her mind that came before the words were actually spoken. This ability to hear thoughts, or, at least she assumed that's what they were; was new to her and it felt like trying to listen to a single exchange in a room full of people. It was all rather frustrating when she was trying to hear what someone was thinking and quite maddening when she wasn't.
Besides being able to hear thoughts, she could also see, or rather "sense" energy all around her, every animal, human, and even plant gave off energy. She even seemed to be able to sense more energy every day, as if this new ability grew stronger with each passing of the sun. She finished brushing Serenity and put her out to pasture with her fathers hunters before dusting off as much of her cloths as possible and turning to go into the keep.
Her home, Forst Reach, had once been a defensive keep, but her father had decided that comfort was more important than defense when the border had been pushed far past the establishment. So with that thought in mind, he had began to make alterations, and since there was no infants occupying the nursery, he had currently cut them up into servants quarters and to use the extra room for his own luxuries. Although Lord Joserlin had some pretty crazy ideas about what he wanted when it came to rebuilding half the manor, she had to admit that the heated privies sounded like the best one yet. It didn't exactly make one want to relieve oneself when they risked turning into an icicle in the winter months.
She made her way up stairs hidden by what looked like simple broom closets, and let out an undignified cry as she slipped on the sleek steps and bruised her knee on the stone. Mumbling a curse that would put her brother Withen to shame, she climbed back to her feet and carefully made her way up the stairs to her room which she had shared with an older cousin who had been moved to the bower.
She opened the door to the attic-level room that she now had all to herself thank the gods too, Stefany never stopped talking even when she slept, it's a wonder she paused to breath! And closed it behind her. Savil bent over a chest to find clothing more comfortable to wear than riding leathers, and pulled out a pair of peasant pants and tunic she had managed to get from one of the servants since they were more comfortable than those heavy gowns her mother's sister, Aunt Carla had been pressuring her to wear. Stripping her riding gear, she slipped into the new attire and turned to get her hair out of the bun she had put it in, when she heard footsteps and immediately turned to the door just as there was a soft knock. Well it wasn't Lord Joserlin, he wouldn't have bothered to knock, and her mother, Lady Karen, would have called her name instead.
"Come in" she called, and the door opened just wide enough for Withen to stick his head through the door and smile broadly at her.
"Wearing those things again eh, lookin' t' get on Lady Carla's nerves today are we?" he asked, opening the door the rest of the way and stepping into her chamber.
"What are you doing Withen, I thought you were supposed to be with father?" Savil questioned.
He blushed angrily "He's trying to get me to collect the fee from all the merchants again! Just 'cause he doesn't like it, that's the first thing he gets me to learn." He shrugged and smiled again "All part of bein' first born son eh? Well that's not what I came all the way up here to tell ya" he said "I wanted to ask if you wanted to spar, since every one else's too chicken shit to fight me?" Savil very well knew that her brother could beat her nine times out of ten when it came to sword play; he was the best in his age range on Forst Reach and even older boys didn't like to fight him since he could pretty well hold his own. Savil happily excepted the offer, although she was no where near as good as half the boys taking up residence at the keep, she could come up with some pretty tricky moves that would leave them spitting dirt for a week.
Her brother held the door open for them and they hurried out of the room and back down the stairs, both tripping and stumbling down the slippery stone until they reached the bottom floor.
*****
Savil held up her shield and tried to get out of the way as fast as she could as Withen charged again; not fast enough, he knocked her down for the sixth time and held the wooden practice sword to her throat and demanded she surrender.
"I yield" she said when she finally had enough air to breathe, Withen took off his helm and held out a hand to help her up, taking it gratefully, Savil allowed him to pull her to her feet.
"So Withen, if you don't want to be heir, what do you want to be?" Savil asked as they moved to sit on one of the garden benches just off from their secret sparing spot.
Withen seemed to think for a moment, then shrugged indifferently. "I don't know" he answered "I just feel like I'll be wasting my life here, I mean there's all the rest of Valdemar to see and here I am, stuck twiddling my thumbs for fun and brooding my life away, it just doesn't seem fair!"
"Life isn't fair!" Savil snapped, not understanding how her brother could hate being heir so much, she'd gladly give her hand to be able to trade places with him and he was acting as if it was a punishment, not a privilege.
"What's wrong with you?!" he demanded, you are that's what! But she kept her thoughts to herself, and waited for him to finish. "-Everytime I say somethin' 'bout bein heir you blow up; is there something wrong with not wanting to be Lord of Forst Reach!"
"Yes!" she screamed before she could stop herself, "Everything, why wouldn't you want the respect, the responsibility, why wouldn't you want for the only thing you'd have to worry about is blisters on your thumbs from twiddling!?"
Withen stood staring at her, at a loss for words, mouth open; then "You think that's all there is to it!? You think it's that easy!? You don't know, you're nothin' but a selfish bitch Savil, they're right, you're to busy worrying about your own self-importance to think of anyone else, you're just a…"
"Stop it!" Savil screamed at the top of her lungs, all logic escaped with the thought that her own brother was betraying her, listening to all those fluff heads up in the solar with nothing better to do than waste air on their brainless babble. "You don't know!" she said then turned angrily and ran for the keep.
She ran blindly up the stairs, stumbling and falling at least a dozen times before she reached the last few steps which she cleared in a single leap, she reached her door and was about to throw it open and fling herself into the solitude of her room when a hand reached out from the shadows and snatched her upper arm forcefully and turned her to face the owner of the appendage.
"There is business that requires you in the Great Hall, now child, don't stand their gaping at me like a stranded fish, go!" The hand released her arm much gentler that it had captured it and placed that same hand between her shoulder blades, gently but forcefully propelling her forward. "I have faith that you'll make the right choice."
Confused, Savil looked at the figure over her shoulder "The right choice about what Mother?"
"Quiet, just go" and the hand on her back retracted and allowed her to walk into the Great Hall with some dignity.
When she arrived in the Great Hall, she was surprised to see that there was some new guards with uniforms she did not recognize. Lord Joserlin was talking to a man much younger than himself, possibly 20, 19 at the youngest. They both looked up as she entered the room and her father gave her one of his infamous disappointing looks that he sent her everytime he saw her. But the man he had been talking with, smiled charmingly at her and she returned it with a smile of her own.
Curious, she extended that strange ability of hers to read thoughts, and hit something that knocked her mind back into her and she stood in a state of mingled shock and fear. The WALL -for that was the only word she could think to describe it- had a dirty feel to it, of evil and death of which no soap would ever wash the amount of blood from her mental 'hands', and she had only touched it. She looked at the man and the sense of energy all around her flared stronger and brighter than she'd ever seen before and she was torn between shielding her eyes or voluntarily vomiting her lunch onto the floor before him to show her disgust.
She schooled her face immediately after that brush with the mental wall and feigned pleasant surprise at such a handsome young stranger here at her home. Her father was waving her to come stand before him and the stranger, she did as she was told, though mentally shaking from utter terror. Something about the way this man kept looking at her reminded her of a drunk with a bottle of his favorite brandy dangling by a string just out of his reach.
"Yes Lord Joserlin?" she asked in a calm tone betraying nothing of the fear she felt, which surprised her since it was bordering on panic and the only thing that kept her from screaming and running out of the Great Hall was that her pride wouldn't allow her to make such an idiot of herself.
"Savil, this is Lord Trenton, he's come to ask your hand in marriage" Lord Joserlin replied as if he would be quite happy to rid himself of another brat, as if she was no different form her cousins that had been sent here for various reasons and were nothing short of a nuisance at the best of times. She nearly disgraced herself by stepping back and spitting in the young man's face. But somehow or another she managed to hold onto her self control, and, thinking quickly, she turned to the man, Lord Trenton, and donned the most apologetic smile she could muster.
"My most sincere apologies my Lord Trenton, but I am of barely fourteen and afraid that I'm awfully unsuited to be wedded at the moment, maybe if you'd be willing to wait a couple of years I'll be ready" yeah and during the first year I'd join the gypsies if I had too to get as far away from you sir as possible she thought.
"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that in a "couple of years" you'd longer be of use to me" he said calmly as a deep blood red sphere suddenly materialized around him. She opened her mouth to gasp in shock, or at least she thought she did, but she heard no gasp and when she tried to move her legs to run, she found that she was quite unable to control her own body.
He walked gracefully around her, as if floating, observing her as a butcher does a hog he is about kill, making sure everything is to his liking. Apparently this 'Lord Trenton' liked what he saw for he laughed softly to himself and seized her chin roughly between two fingers. "You, Savil Ashkevron, are a rare specimen, very rare indeed, such potential, you could be very useful to me my dear." He said smoothly, his sensual voice sending shivers of fear down Savil's back.
She caught a glimpse of movement behind Trenton and strained her thought reading ability to try and see who it was with out being painfully obvious.
:-blood-mage, gotta kill'm before he can get more energy!
That was one of their kitchen servants, probably disturbed by the sudden silence and curious to see what was going on. But why this particular old man had become her sudden savior didn't matter, the only thing that did was that she made sure that he didn't get caught.She starred up into Trenton's burning green eyes and she didn't have to feign the terror that aroused within her. She held his eyes for what seemed like eternity, lost in the all devouring panic that consumed her and cast out hope of ever escaping this man. When suddenly, as if some god had struck him down with a bolt of lightening, Trenton howled in pain which turned to a gurgle as blood bubbled up from his throat and poured in cascades over his lips and down his neck. Then he collapsed on the floor convulsing, a small kitchen knife buried to the hilt in the back of his neck, missing the vertebrae by a mere half inch at most.
The guards wavered, and then exploded in an eruption of energy illusions! Savil's terror gripped mind thought. Everyone sank to their knees, including her, as the paralysis spell broke and the last of Trenton's energy dissipated back into the world around them. Savil looked up into her fathers eyes and saw fear; something had drawn that stranger here, and it was obviously her. She made up her mind quickly, and as she felt other eyes rest fearfully on her, she slowly rose and headed out of the Great Hall and back to her room.
*****
Withen ran into the Great Hall as the guards were carrying out the dead body of a man he had never seen before. "Lord Father, what happened?" he asked, starring at the pool of blood at his father's feet.
"Nothing boy, just a bandit" he replied, turning away from his son and heading into the dark hall way that led to his private chambers, "just a bandit."
Withen ran off to question one of his many cousins on what had accured and so it wasn't until supper, when Savil's personal maid came rushing down the stairs, exclaiming that Savil was gone.