Please keep the reviews coming. It's my inspiration to continue.
Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and favorite-d this story.
Some of you are irked I left it on a cliffhanger. I'm a sucker for suspense. But to make up for it, I'm updating the story four days early!
Disclaimer: The Black Jewels Trilogy belongs solely to Anne Bishop. All OC's are mine.
Sirian rose and fell savagely, grinding her hips forward and relishing in the moans that escaped her customer's throat. Sweat dripped down her skin and she let her curls fall forward as the warlord under her rose to his edge, spilling inside of her.
She stayed on top of him, allowing him to catch his breath before moving to the side, curling under the sheets and letting the warlord run his hands through her hair.
She hated the moments in between like this. It gave her too much time to think, too much time to remember the words in her mother's letter.
"Hell's fire you're amazing." the whisper in her ear broke her from her thoughts, and she pressed her mouth into a thin hard line. It had been a week since she'd left Kaeleer. A week since she had lost a good friend and discovered a connection she never saw coming. She hadn't wanted to think about anything, hadn't wanted to do anything but get back to work and forget.
The hand in her hair roamed toward her shoulder, fingers tickling down her side.
"I'd love to have another..."
"You should leave." Sirian winced at the harsh tone her voice took and silently cursed herself as the roaming hand tensed and removed itself completely. Closing her eyes in silent agitation, she willed herself to turn over and prop herself up on her elbow. Her customer did not look pleased, and it was a whore's goal to keep them happy at any cost.
"You're a busy man. I'm sure you're needed somewhere. Besides, I'll always be here eagerly waiting for you to get back." Running a playful hand across his chest, she managed to coax a smile from her customer before he nodded.
"Yeah I did have to get to that lunch with my wif- my friend."
"Of course. Don't stay gone too long though, I'll miss you." The warlord flashed a cocky grin and rolled out of the bed, pulling on his clothes quickly before leaning down and grabbing Sirian's chin, lifting her mouth to his in a kiss that bruised her lips.
Once he had gone, Sirian sighed and worked her way to the restroom, ignoring the aches of protest her hips and legs were sending her. By the time she came out, the bed had been stripped and fresh sheets had been laid out in preparation for her next customer. Flicking her gold eyes toward the clock, Sirian decided she'd have enough time to drink some coffee before the next man was due. It didn't take long for her order to be placed and for the tray to appear on the small coffee table in the room. She had just settled down when a knock on the door made her jump. Brow furrowing, Sirian used craft to open the door and frowned at the sight of Claudia standing before her. Her friend entered the room and stopped short once she caught sight of her eyrien friend.
"Hell's fire Sirian, you look horrible!" Sirian winced before forcing a grin.
"Well aren't you full of flattery today?" Claudia frowned at her tone but chose to ignore the comment in order to close the door and settle in the chair across from her.
"I mean it! You're skin and bones and...you look exhausted." There was enough concern in her friend's eyes to make Sirian sigh.
"I'm fine I just-"
"Where's Kavar? I told him to report in on how your trip went but he never came by to tell me. Did something happen? Is he okay? Don't tell me you two had another falling out." once the barrage of questions ceased to flow, Sirian stood up slowly and faced the fireplace in the room, not willing to meet her friend's eyes.
"He's gone."
"Gone? What do you mean 'gone'?" Closing her eyes, Sirian rubbed a tired hand across her brow.
"I mean he left for good. He finally grew some balls and moved on with his life like I've been telling him to do for years. He's always deserved better."
"So he just...left?" Sirian managed a smile at the disbelieving tone coming from the golden haired witch.
"He left a note. It's about time he did this, I couldn't be happier for him."
"Liar." Sirian turned a glare on her friend but didn't protest the accusation. She most certainly was lying, but she would never admit it.
"I don't want to talk about Kavar. He's gone now. Drop it." Claudia pursed her lips in agitation but didn't bring up the topic again. Both women were silent for a while, each lost in their own thoughts.
"Listen, as much as I love these little visits, I really do have work to get to. My next customer will be here soon and-"
"No they won't. Madame Serah sent him to another worker." Sirian whirled around, stretching out her wings to keep her balance.
"She did what?" Claudia froze for a moment but straightened her shoulders and continued.
"She called me to come talk to you. She said you got back a week ago and practically threw yourself into work. She said she's never seen you so upset and that you looked like you wanted to be torn apart. And from where I'm sitting, you've been doing a hell of a job trying to achieve that."
Sirian wouldn't quite meet her friend's eyes after that comment, choosing instead to glare angrily at the freshly made bed.
"I don't want to think anymore." Claudia remained silent and Sirian took the opportunity to toss her hands in the air and pace the room anxiously. "Every time I think I remember. And I just don't want to remember. I want to forget and the only way I can do that is if I stay busy."
"You want to forget Kavar?"
"No. Yes. No, I don't want to forget Kavar. I want to forget my mother." the confused look on Claudia's face had Sirian sighing and plopping down in the chair beside her.
"I read her letter."
"You read- what...what did it say?"
"Nothing horribly important. Nothing...nothing I didn't already know. She said she didn't love me and that she never would, she mentioned how I was a constant reminder of how she failed at life. The usual from her. But...she mentioned my father."
Claudia shifted, eyes wide as she perched precariously on the edge of her seat.
"Your father? Did she say who he was? Where he's been? Tell me she gave you a name..."
"Lucivar Yaslana."
Another silence. Sirian dared a glance at her friend whose expression remained carefully blank.
"Lucivar Yaslana? THE Lucivar Yaslana? As in one of the most vicious and powerful warlord princes in the realm?"
"As in the half breed bastard who raped her in an eyrien camp one night."
"He RAPED her?"
Claudia's face would have been a comical sight to see had Sirian not been struggling with accepting the news herself. Calling in her mother's letter, she searched through it before reading out loud.
"You remind me of him. Your attitude, the way you move and speak. Hell, the way you hold your chin when you get angry or even when you laugh you look just like the bastard! He was a nobody then, a half breed bastard in the eyrien camps who tricked me into believing he was someone special. When I admitted to being a virgin the bastard took me to some room and raped me on the spot. He even had the gall to try and speak with me the next day after my humiliation. I didn't want to be shamed further by admitting he did such a thing to me. That I had let some half breed prince soil my body. And then I found out I was pregnant with you and it took all I had not to terminate the pregnancy. Hell, if I hadn't thought you might be useful I would have gone through with it. I had intended on using you as evidence in the rape charge, but by the time you were born he wore the ebon-gray, and no one dared question his violence and temper. I was left with a shame I could do nothing about, and a useless child that I would always hate."
Glancing up from the letter, Sirian took note of Claudia's wide green eyes and white knuckles as she gripped the edge of the seat. Giving her a half shrug and a crooked grin, Sirian laughed.
"It's not the worst thing she's ever said about me."
"So you're telling me that Lucivar Yaslana is your father? The man who was imprisoned in Pruul for being so violent against witches no one could control him. He's the one who sired you?"
Sirian closed her eyes and tossed the letter onto the table between them.
"According to the bitch it's the truth."
"Do you know where he is now? I had heard...I had heard he disappeared." Sirian shrugged tiredly, wincing as she shifted in the chair.
"Someone said he works for the Queen of Kaeleer. The one who unleashed that army to cause the witchstorm that killed most of the population. But it's all just speculation really. I have no interest on pursuing this."
Claudia stood almost immediately, pointing a finger in shock at the woman sprawled across the chair in front of her.
"What do you mean you don't want to pursue this? You've wanted to know who your father was since I met you! And here you are with a name and you're not even going to try and meet him?" Sirian choked back her anger before standing up to meet her friend at eye level.
"I don't even know if he's still alive! And what if he is? What am I supposed to say? 'Oh hi there Prince Yaslana, I'm your bastard daughter you sired after raping my mother during your stay at an eyrien camp, it's such a pleasure to meet you! Oh and tell me what you think of the weather!'? That'll go over well."
Claudia opened her mouth to say something, paused to reconsider, and shook her head.
"I see your point. But...don't you even want to try?"
"I'd love to try. Hell, I remember when my mother used to tell me that no one would ever want me and I'd just close my eyes and imagine running into my long lost father who had been searching all over for me. He'd take me away from this hell and we'd live happily ever after. Of course I was a kid then and I still-" Sirian bit off her words before she could make herself sound even weaker than she already was. Turning away, she shook her head. She had been a kid when those childish fantasies plagued her thoughts. She was still able to have dreams that meant something, and to have hope that her future would get better.
Not anymore.
The father she so desperately wanted to know about turned out to be a selfish bastard who hated witches. A rapist who was considered one of the most ruthless eyriens in the history of the race.
If her mother hadn't wanted her, who the hell would think such a man would or could love and accept her? Would she want him too? Burying her face in her hands, Sirian sank to the chair and pressed her wings tightly against her back.
"Claudia, I don't know what to do. I hate not knowing what to do. Tell me what to do." she felt her friend move closer and place a hand on her shoulder. Looking up, she was surprised to find her smiling.
"The Sirian I know would be in Kaeleer right now tracking down this long lost father and finding out where he lives so she could slam open the door and shout "I'm your daughter, you're going to accept this, if not then I'll kick your ass to hell and back."
Sirian snorted at the comment and rolled her gold eyes.
"It's that easy huh?"
Claudia grinned. It was the sort of grin her friend used when they were about to do something that would put them in a world of trouble.
"You make everything seem easier than it is."
Considering that line, Sirian smiled to herself before shakily getting to her feet.
"Fine. I could use the break."
Claudia glanced her over a few times and nodded.
"Damn right you can. You look like you've been dragged by your feet through the city for weeks without nourishment. You go pack and I'll tell Madame Serah what's happening."
Sirian shook her head and held up her hand to stop her friend from leaving the room.
"Don't mention this to anyone. Just tell her I'm retiring for the time being."
"She's not going to take that well, you're one of her best workers." Sirian grinned and narrowed her eyes.
"I'm also one of her best fighters. She won't argue." Claudia looked her over a little too long before the opal jeweled witch retreated quickly from the room.
Turning toward the mirror, Sirian blanched at her reflection. Claudia's description had been accurate. Her skin stretched tightly around her body and she could practically see her bones poking out. She was covered in bruises and love bites and her sore legs looked like someone had held her down and beaten them with an eyrien stick. Shrugging on her clothes, she called in the suitcase she hadn't bothered to unpack and did a quick check to see if she'd need anything else. After vanishing a few personal possessions she kept around the room, Sirian was ready to leave.
She'd always hated situations like these. It was preferable to simply find the problem at hand and either sleep with it or punch it into the dirt. Since neither options were of any use at the moment, she'd settle with scoping out her situation and making a decision then. Who knew? Maybe she'd actually find her father and he'd be enough of a prick to justify getting punched in the face. Ebon-gray jewels be damned.
Xxxxxxxxx
Kavar clenched his jaw in agitation, took a breath, and tried to explain his situation...again.
"I'm leaving. I think I'll find a better life in Kaeleer and I need to get away from my past to do that. You've been a great teacher and I appreciate everything you've done for me, but I won't stay."
The old weapon's master simply stared at him through one narrowed golden eye, the other having been lost years ago, before setting down the tools he was using to repair a bladed stick. Moving over to a large bucket of water, the eyrien rinsed his dirt smeared hands and settled himself on his work bench.
Kavar tried not to shift impatiently and reminded himself that this was one of the hard good-byes. The eyrien camps had become a refuge for most eyriens in Terreille and, though they were still bordering on cruelty, had improved since the reign of the tainted queens. The man before him had taken him in from the streets and raised him like his own son. Kavar had always been a fighter not a builder, so he had been the one in charge of testing out each weapon his master made. It was such an event that had led him to meet Sirian. Pushing away his thoughts before he stood on dangerous ground, Kavar returned his attention back on his father figure.
"Yullivar I know it's sudden but I-"
"Is this because of some woman? That whore you sniff after like some lost puppy?" the way the temperature around the Warlord Prince dropped pushed back Kavar's heated reaction. Yullivar held still on the bench, wings stretched eerily out to make him seem larger, not that the burly eyrien man needed to appear so.
"It's not. Really." the pause before the temperature returned to normal was too long, too still.
"So you just decided to up and leave?"
"I need to go somewhere else. I need to...escape this place." Kavar swallowed nervously. Here was the part he was dreading. "I wanted to know if you'd come with me."
He braced himself for rejection. The man wasn't his father, there was no reason for him to pack up his life and simply trail after a boy who he found slumming in the gutters.
Yullivar turned away quickly, but not fast enough. Kavar saw the frown that stretched across the older warrior's face.
"I shouldn't have asked. You have other things to-"
"Quiet boy." Kavar bit his tongue and felt his temper rise. There was another pause before Yullivar turned toward him with a stern expression.
"I guess it didn't occur to you that you'd need gold to enter the service fairs? I've got in touch with an old contact willing to arrange our names on the list. Now you start helping me pack and don't drop the bladed sticks on your foot like last time." Kavar couldn't help the boyish grin that spread across his face. Yullivar stared hard at him for a moment before shaking his head.
"You're a pain in the ass boy." the words rang hollow, outdone by the shine of pride in the weapons master's eyes.
To those who were looking forward to having Sirian show up on Lucivar's doorstep and claiming she was his illegitimate child , I apologize. It's going to be a gradual climb into the story, not a sudden blast of plot.