Tyson paid the innkeeper's wife and proceeded up the stairs, leading Jennessa by the arm, inexplicably. She couldn't believe he was still willing to touch her or even be alone with her, given what they had learned today. But more than ever, she wanted to be by his side. Her father was dead. The man who named her and raised her and gave her piggy back rides, taught her how to read, whose path she had inadvertantly followed. He was gone. All that was left in his wake was blood and unanswered questions. Jennessa would have given anything to have him here now, to explain to her what was going on and who she really was. But she'd never see him again. She'd never get to give him the stories of her adventures, never introduce him to the most wonderful man, who even now was here for her.
Tyson seemed to be shielding his eyes from her. Jennessa didn't know what he must have thought of her now, but she had never meant to hurt him. She was losing everything, rapidly, and surely he would soon follow. Despite the large burn on his handsome face, and the fear of what she harm she might accidentally cause him, she couldn't suppress the persistant longing in the back of her head to throw herself into Tyson's arms. She needed now him more than ever.
If Tyson's breath was somewhat shaky, his movements more jerky and unnatural, Jennessa didn't notice. Jennessa's a succubus. He couldn't stop thinking it, and hadn't stopped since he'd found out. Sly seemed excited by the news, and eager to explore what this meant for them. He'd run off to the bar with Krista under the guise of gathering information, but more likely it was to share this secret a few more times. But Sly hadn't slept with a demon. Was that what she was now? A monster?
A sniff to his left as he turned the room key reminded him that demon or no, Jennessa was still half human, and a girl mourning for her father so brutally murdered in their very own home. If she could feel this pain, she couldn't be quite the wicked monster her mother turned out to be. Unless of course she was only pretending, but Jennessa was a horrible actor. Nevertheless, Tyson was careful to grip her arm guard, her sleeve, anything but her skin- just in case. She hadn't attacked him outright, nor done anything really to make him lose his trust in her, but she could easily pose a threat if he fell under an enchantment of hers. He didn't know anything about succubus magic (or magic in general, really). And he knew that was his fault for being so ignorant to the craft and knowledge growing up. Saeran and especially Sidhion or Vira would have much more to say on the matter. But Tyson, being Tyson, simply knew to be cautious of what he didn't understand, and to take it in stride.
He let her into the room, letting her arm go to close the door and fasten the lock behind him. The room was simple and empty, like the rest of Peachvale, and he paid it no mind as he ushered her toward the bed. He avoided eye contact, but that did not mean he took his eyes off of her. He hadn't felt this unsure around her since he thought she was trying to kill him when they'd first met- the way she'd always stared at him. Now he let her sit on the dusty mattress, her eyes downcast and lost, and her entire posture sullen. He took a step back, not out of fear, but because he wasn't sure what else to do. "You should rest," he said finally, breaking the silence that had only been breached by the quick word with the innkeeper before. He flinched at how accusing his voice seemed to be, rather than the soft reassuring tone he'd been going for. Perhaps she wouldn't notice the difference, as both were laced with the characteristic nonchalance that represented Tyson Nailo. He had never been one for overt emotion.
Jennessa felt empty and hollow, and didn't know what in the world she could do to make things better, or even okay, because certainly they would never be the same. His voice was curt. It stung her, though she hardly believed she could have felt any worse than she did now.
She looked up at him, eyes red from tears she could hardly hold back. He didn't trust her anymore. And why should he? She could kill him with his lips alone, she thought with another awful shudder. She wondered if maybe he'd brought her up here so he could end her once and for all, before she managed to kill any innocent people. She couldn't blame him if he did plan to slay her. What am I? she wondered once more. Another monster to be vanquished? Another threat to Tyson's life, which she protected so fiercely?
"Tyson..." she managed through her weak voice. "I'm so sorry."
Tyson's eyes softened at her words. This apology. It was so heartfelt and so unwarranted. She meant it, that much was clear to him (unless his mind was under.. no). And how could she have known she was doing these things to him? She had found out at the same time as he and Sly... hadn't she? Tyson cleared his throat before speaking, much more controllably, "Did you know?" He didn't believe that she had... but he had to be sure. He had to know. And she owed him the truth.
Jennessa shook her head, staring at him wide-eyed. "No." Could he forgive her? "I didn't know I was... draining the life out of you. I didn't know my mom was a demon. I didn't know I was more dangerous than half of the monsters we fight. I didn't know I was anything but human." Her voice was getting louder, and she couldn't stop a tear from falling. I didn't know loving you could kill you. Did she regret the nights they spent together? Would she have been able to stop herself from giving in to the desperate longing she felt for Tyson if she had known...? She took a breath and looked down at herself, guilty. "I never meant to hurt you..."
Tyson shook his head. "That's enough," he interjected to stop her spilling of words. Oh, did he know what it was like to be looked at with scorn as if he was some sort of monster that didn't belong. No thanks to his brother, he'd grown enough to stop seeing himself that way, but it was the same way Jennessa was looking at herself now. Disgusted and appalled. She didn't know. She hadn't known. Why wasn't he as relieved to hear that as he thought he'd be? Because even if it hadn't been on purpose, all of it.. EVERYTHING had been a lie. He could hear Saeran's voice now- 'I TOLD you it was impossible to care for a human. Of course she's been enchanting you..'. He shook his head again. But Jennessa never realized she had been doing these things to him. He was the only man she had ever bedded. She hadn't been abusing her power. She hadn't even KNOWN. "I believe you. It isn't your fault..." that you were born different.
He watched that tear trail down her cheek, and all he wanted to do was make it stop. He'd sworn to protect her (and now he knew WHY). But if he didn't know how to react to her emotions when she was human, he certainly didn't know how to deal with them when she was a demon (HALF demon, he reminded himself), and he couldn't touch her, lest she drain his life away when they were both so broken. He was no wordsmith like his brother, and actions were often all he had, so if he couldn't comfort her physically he didn't know what else to do. Words would have to be enough. "You've saved my life countless times, Jennessa. I can't believe that you were trying to hurt me."
His lips twitched up then in an ironic smirk, in spite of everything and all the chaos that their lives had become. "Besides, I'm fine." He hoped the words he'd shouted so many times in battle would calm her down. And it was true. He stood healthy and virile as ever before her, if a little battered and scuffed. 'Of course she'd want to protect her pet. Her thrall that feeds her every time she-' Tyson crushed Saeran's voice in his head. Or the Shield's. Whichever. They both seemed to meld into one lately anyway.
Jennessa nodded silently. Despite her reckless actions, he was alive. She'd done enough protecting him to counteract any danger she'd put him in with her unrestrained desire. It seemed he didn't hate her. She braved a look up at him, and her eyes widened to see him, against all odds, smiling his Tyson-y smile. Her heart soared, suddenly filled with new hope. They weren't any different, even after everything. He'd survived it all somehow if a little worse for the wear, and he was still here for her. Then Jennessa smiled weakly too. Then the thought occured to her, If you survived it before, maybe it wouldn't be so bad... and her eyes fell to his lips, which she wanted to kiss more than ever before now that she was desperate for comfort... and then she realized what she was doing, and cast her face into her hands again.
"Tyson, I'm... I'm dangerous," she choked through sobs. She'd hoped one day he'd learn to love her... but now she was sure that nothing could ever love her. If a man could grow to truly have feelings for her, he wouldn't once he found out what she was. She wasn't even certain the things she felt were love anymore, and not just some twisted demonic urges. Her days of holding Tyson's hand and gently kissing him and being wrapped up in his arms were all gone. It was too risky. He'd certainly never want to touch her again.
She seemed like she was calming down but then she was wracked with anguish again. For her father, for herself, and for what she felt she'd done to him. That it had been a spell all along. He couldn't be upset with her. It wasn't her intention to manipulate him. He'd caught many eyes before, and he couldn't ignore all the times they'd fought together. He couldn't deny her devotion.
Even so, it was true. He couldn't refute her statement. He'd seen her incinerate men, of course she was dangerous. But this was a different sort of danger. And Tyson didn't know what the hell to do about it. He opened his mouth a few times, but what could be said? At that moment the door handle jiggled and then a knock came when it didn't give. Jennessa jumped in surprise while Tyson's ears twitched in annoyance. Only Sly would open first before knocking. Sure enough, the familiar voice came through the crack in the side.
"Hey guys, open the dooooor." Tyson simply stood and looked from the door to Jennessa, then back to the door. "It's locked," Sly added helpfully. Tyson looked at Jennessa again to see if she wanted Sly's company or not, but she didn't vehemently refuse, and Tyson thought Sly deserved to be with her as much as he did right now. They were a team, after all. They could deal with this together. So he walked to the door and opened it when Sly was halfway between knocking again. Tyson jerked his head to give Sly permission to enter, and stepped aside, sure to lock the door again behind him. He drew the line at Krista, however. Justice only knows what she would do to Jennessa knowing her true lineage. He would question if he could trust Krista, but he never really trusted her to begin with, so it was just as well. He'd keep an eye on her.
Jennessa shrunk inward a little more with Sly around. She tried to pull herself together, and not melt in tears in front of Sly, who she doubted would be understanding.
Sly glanced between the two of them, probably feeling a little less than welcome. "I'll get my own room, I swear. I just want to talk." Jennessa nodded with a slow, calming breath. There was a lot to talk about. She hoped he wouldn't ask her how she was feeling. And she hoped he hadn't told the entire popultation of her hometown (or what remained of it) what she really was.
After a pause, Sly adressed the white elephant in the room. "You guys aren't going to do it, are you?"
Trepidation turned to rage in Jennessa's tear-streaked face. How could he say that? Didn't he realize how insensitive it was to bring up the fact that Jennessa's desires would never again be fulfilled? "Get OUT Sly!" Jennessa rose to her feet, fists clenched, and sure enough, Sly scurried out of the room with an apologetic mutter.
Tyson rolled his eyes at the question. But he really hadn't expected anything less. Jennessa's reaction was, of course, predictable as well. But he preferred to see her angry and yelling at Sly for being a pest than broken and lost. Somehow, he felt less at war with himself. He didn't have anything to fear about Jennessa because he was aware now. And she couldn't make him do anything, because they were friends in spite of everything. She had been present for him when his entire world literally came crashing down. And so he would be there for her. He wouldn't cast her aside. She was worth more than that. And so he settled for loosening the straps of his amor and setting it against the wall.
Jennessa seethed for a moment before Sly shut the door again. She shouldn't have expected him to be considerate. But now it seemed Tyson was starting to relax around her again, and she saw him unarmored for the first time since he was locked up in Holimion. She hoped his trust was well-placed, and that she could control herself around him... It was tense, and awkward, and Jennessa sat back down and tried to calm herself. "I wish you could have met my dad," she said softly. "You would have liked him." It was true. He was strong and brave and jovial and would have gotten along great with Tyson. They could have drank together and shared stories, and arm wrestled and done other manly things. But Garamond was gone.
He looked up and if he couldn't hear it in her sorrowful voice he could SEE what her dad meant to her in the sloping of her eyebrows, the tightness of her lips, and and pain in those vivid eyes. The times she had spoke of her parents, it was with the fondest smile that she spoke of her father. In truth, he had been a bit anxious to learn of the greatness of Jennessa's father. The warrior. The Firestorm. He had been worried upon meeting him that he would be judged for taking Jennessa's chastity or for not protecting her well enough or for many things that a man who loved his daughter would be concerned about. But it seemed as though his worry was in vain, for Jennessa's father was taken from her. And so young. "He sounds like a good man," Tyson managed to respond, for lack of anything better to say. Nothing like Tyson's own father. He was glad to know that someone in Jennessa's family cared a great deal for her, even if that someone had passed now. And was lying cold and dead and rotting in his home just a mile away. "We'll give him a proper burial in the morning," he promising, hoping it would console her. He knew that it would be wrong to bury Garamond in the middle of the night when they were both so distraught over these revelations. He undid a final clasp and then his plates were lined up against the wall, and he was left in the thin shirt and trousers he wore underneath. "I'm sorry," Tyson said, for the first time that night. He knew it was not his fault that Jennessa's father was dead. Nor was it his fault that her mother had been a monster. But he had refused to meet her father the last time they were in this town, when he was still alive and Jennessa had asked so hopefully. And it was indirectly his fault that she was forced to feel so guilty now. He HAD slept with her after all.
Jennessa snorted quietly. Tyson had nothing to be sorry for. But she knew he was really trying to make her feel better and it was not lost on her. "Thanks." Jennessa nudged off her shoes and brought her knees to her chest, holding herself and watching Tyson bringing his guard down, literally. Any power she had over him wouldn't be affected by what armor he wore, but it made her heart beat a little faster to see his scarred, muscly arms unshielded. She swallowed. If only things could have been different, if they'd been able to come home unburdened, then she and Tyson could be sharing a room having a very different night together. Maybe a simple hug would be safe, but how would she know?
Jennessa looked at him, eyes drying, and seemed to contemplate for a moment with a heavy heart. "Even with that mark on your face," she said softly, to her knees, "I still think you look handsome." It probably didn't matter to him. Especially not now. But it was worth saying all the same.
Tyson paled. Why was she bringing that up now? He had been focusing on her, and for a moment his face had slipped his mind. But now his chest burned painfully and he swallowed thickly. Before.. everything, Tyson could push his past away. He could forget everything and focus on his life now. But now every single time he looked in a damned mirror, he would be reminded of his failure. All the people he let down, the lives who had been depending on him, and the family and friends who had finally officially cast him away. Now if he wanted to return, he couldn't. He sighed. "I can't imagine why." Why was she trying to comfort him? She had just seen her father die. 'She's trying to manipulate you,' Shield hissed. 'Slit her thro-' He shoved the voice away. "I used to disdain people with this mark," he said, his voice full of bitter. I used to think that even if I can't be like everyone else, at least I won't be that.
Jennessa's eyes burned with a leftover anger. They never should have gone to Holimion... That mark doesn't matter to me, Tyson. "Why do you have that mark, Tyson?" she quietly asked. "It's a supposed to be a mark of shame, that Princess Vira hands out to those she doesn't approve of. She gave it to you because you fought for what you believed in." She looked in his eyes, for a moment not caring what he thought of her, just what he thought of himself. Tyson deserved to see himself the way she saw him. "Even if you failed, you did what was right. On you... this isn't a mark of shame," Jennessa's eyes glinted with just a hint of valor as she spoke toward the hero. "It's a medal of your courage."
Tyson looked away. "Intentions don't-" Tyson cut himself off before he finished that. Because if intentions didn't matter, then he would be a hypocrite for telling Jennessa that he forgave her for the times she stole his life away. She hadn't intended to, and he knew that. He was silent for a minute, contemplating this. He was willing to fight to the death to save the people of Oakleaf. If he could go back now, he wouldn't have made a different decision. He would fight until his last breath for what he believed to be right. He knew that was why Vira had set him free. "Courage." He met her eyes then, and his eyes mirrored her determination. He would not give up, because even if he failed to save a life every time, there was still a chance that he'd make a difference. And that was more than enough reason. "Why are you telling me this?"
Jennessa smiled when he broke the silence. At last, she'd gotten through to him. "I hate seeing you upset," she said gently, more reminding him than informing him. Then, more sadly, "I still care about you. Even... even if you never love me back." There it was. Quiet, subtle, tragic. But this might be the last time he ever listened to her, so there wasn't any other time to tell him... "I love you, Tyson." You should shut up now, her reasonable but self-loathing conscious told her, and she quickly shut it out in favor of staring at his eyes. "Every moment... since that first kiss, and maybe even before it... I love you." It doesn't change anything, stupid girl. He hates you for what you are. A demon. "I don't expect anything from you. Certainly not now. But whatever I.. am... I really do care about you. It wasn't a trick, and I don't just want you. I love you for who you are." She shook her head and snorted a sad, broken laugh. "You're amazing. I really hoped that... if we survived all these adventures, you and I could have been together, settled down somewhere, maybe kept some horses that you love so much." There were new tears in her eyes. She could never have him. The vision from her dreams was a warning, that even if she could somehow live as long as Tyson, if they were together, she would inevitably drain his life away. "I just hope whichever...normal girl you choose treats you as well as I would have." She'd have to watch, quietly, enviously, as he whiled his nights away with wantons and callgirls, because it was too dangerous for her to lie with the man she loved. "If you want another room, I'll understand. But I don't want you to go."
Tyson's breath quickened as she poured her heart out to him, finally laying out the truth and baring herself. His mouth was entirely too dry now, and he didn't know how to respond. Which didn't surprise him. But he never thought about such things as love. He never thought about settling down and 'choosing a girl' as Jennessa had put it. He had always figured his life would be full of glory and adventure (less so, recently), however short it may be for his line of work. And what he and Jennessa had together had never really been.. Well, it had been an unspoken agreement. And that was all it was. Nothing else... But no, he could see that now. Clearly, it was much, much more to her. And even if it might have become something else, it didn't matter, because it was artificial. He could see that now. But even if he wouldn't reciprocate her emotion, he still cared for her. She had been his comrade, doting and unwavering in her loyalty and strength, and he couldn't think ill of her or see her gone. When she and Sly were all that had kept him sane in his return to Holimion and all the misfortune that befell him. And to think she expected him to leave her alone. Now of all times. That prompted him to speak.
"Jennessa. If you want me to stay, then I will," he said finally. He felt guilty, because he knew he was hurting her. Even if it wasn't directly his fault, he was still the cause of it. And he was frustrated and angry and bewildered all at once, and this wasn't something he'd ever imagined himself having to deal with, but his life was anything but standard.
He took a single step, then cursed at himself for his hesitancy and walked to the bed more confidently, sitting beside Jennessa. He could hear her shuddering breath of surprise, and almost lifted his hand to place over hers. Almost. He had to say what he needed to say, but he wasn't quite sure what that was. He spun Saeran's ring idly on his finger, and figured it was as good a place as any. "I'm not perfect. You make it sound as if I'm some dauntless hero," he stated, with no anger behind his words. He continued before she could dispute what he'd said. "I've failed a lot of people. A great deal more than I've helped. And I have more blood on my hands than most of the monsters we cross swords with. When it came down to it, I couldn't save Shadow, Verac, Verac's people, that woman in the woods, the people of Oakleaf.." The last memory was still fresh. "And the goblins. I was right next to the wagon when they-" He cut himself off at that point, because the anger in his chest threatened to overflow. "I swore I would slay every last one of them, and now I'm a hundred miles away and for all I know Holimion is falling to the forest floor." Vira was wrong for sending me away. He needed to calm down. "But through all of the mistakes I've made, you've been here." His fingers grasped at the air as though he could find the words he needed by catching them between his fingers. He stopped staring at his hands and looked at her tear streaked face, his pale eyes rarely unshielded. "What I'm trying to say is, in spite of.. it all, you're still a loyal friend. My friend." He turned away when her fierce gaze overwhelmed him again. "I'd be a fool to shove that away," he finished quietly.
It wasn't exactly what Jennessa had hoped to hear when she first said it to someone, but it was a whole lot better than hearing Tyson say he never wished to see her again. What champion of goodness would ever love a creature of hell? But Tyson still wanted to be her friend. Obviously she couldn't have a romantic relationship with him - or anyone ever, Jennessa thought with a quiet sob - but against all odds, he hadn't turned her away. He was still here next to her after all. Will I ever be able to let you go? Jennessa wondered, as she looked in his honest eyes. "I'm still here for you," she whispered back. Against her better judgement, Jennessa's hand twitched closer to Tyson, hoping against all hope that he would take hold of it anyway. Take pity on the girl no one will ever love. Just hold my hand one last time...
"We'll still fight together. Side by side. Well... moreso I'll be right behind you," Jennessa revised with a tear-damped chuckle. I'll just try to forget there was a moment when you might have loved me back. "Right, Tyson?"
Tyson smiled sadly. He decided then and there that even if Jennessa was half demon, and it went against his very core to put his trust and faith in such a creature, he didn't care. Because at this point, she was everything he had. The one stable thing in his life. "Right." He noticed her hand from the corner of his vision, but he wouldn't give her false hope, and he was worried about how skin contact might affect his decisions. And so he pulled his hand away and reached down to pull off his boots. "You should get some rest," he said lamely, but there was true concern. Not only because she must be emotionally and physically drained from their horrifying discovery today, but because he knew Jennessa needed proper rest to use her magic. And if they were going to go after her wretched fiend of a mother, she would need every spell she had.
And just like that, her last light of hope was extuingished. All the progress they'd made no longer mattered in the slightest, and Tyson wanted just as much to be with her as he did the day they hauled him out of a bandit prison. Jennessa picked up her hand, thoroughally defeated. "that's true," she said hollowly. Maybe if she slept, when she woke up she'd find the whole awful day to be a dream, and they'd be a few miles out of Peachvale, and just an hour away from eating peach pancakes with her dad again as she told him all her new stories... She moved slowly to turn away from Tyson and reached behind her back to undo her restrictive bodice, so she could get ready for bed, and found herself struggling to reach the ties without Esther's usual help (that, and a general lack of will to do anything from slump over and cry).
Jennessa had never been very good at hiding her emotions, and now was no different. She looked like someone had kicked her in the stomach and thrown her spell book in the dirt. And her fingers were quaking slightly as she fiddled uselessly with the fastenings on her top. Tyson sighed and reached over to loosen them for her, careful not to brush her fingers accidentally. He had tried as hard as he could to be reassuring and gentle in his words, but he just wasn't good with things like this. Never was. He moved himself to flop back across the mattress. The bed was thankfully more than big enough for two to lie and have plenty of room, and it's not like they hadn't slept in close quarters anyway nearly every single night. He knew that he would not be sleeping this night anyway, not with the thoughts that plagued his mind. But at the very least, Jennessa would be too afraid to initiate anything, so he wouldn't have to worry if he did decide to rest. 'You're just an obsession. You should have slain her when you had the chance.' Shield wore on his patience. He was tempted to remove his shirt and cover the offending piece of armor, but he knew enough to know that would be insensitive. Not to mention, the voice that whispered horrible things to him would never be deterred by mere laundry. "Jennessa," he called to get her attention. "I won't leave unless you want me to," he reminded. He would't tell her lies nor empty promises. But this he could promise. For now, let that be enough.
Somehow his voice still made her heart flutter when he called her name. She glanced over her shoulder at Tyson, and it comforted her a great deal to know he'd keep her safe tonight. but who will keep you safe from me? "Thank you." she said, with a little more strength in her voice. "There's no one else I'd rather have with me tonight." Then she noticed the sleeve of her loosened robe was slipping away from her shoulder, and she quickly covered up the fair skin that could cause such a problem. At least now I know why I don't seem to be as beaten up as you or Sly. Not since our first night together, anyway. Jennessa wondered if Tyson was even a fraction as tempted and conflicted as she was feeling. Sure, she was inexperienced, but maybe the few times Tyson had layed with her, a little bit of hellfire blood had given her an edge over other girls he'd had... Then she shook that awful thought from her head and tucked herself in under the covers. "Good night, Tyson," Jennessa said to the pillows, with false joviality. "I'll see you tomrrow." If you don't change your mind about slitting my throat in my sleep.
'Now, while it's asleep!' Tyson let out a low breath. He was no where near succumbing to the ridiculous demands, but lately some of the suggestions sounded more enticing and rational than he'd like to admit. He didn t say anything else, for there was nothing more to say. So he punched the pillow a few times and got comfortable for the long night ahead of him. Though it wasn t truly necessary to keep watch while in town, old habits die hard.
Jennessa was despairing, obviously, but Tyson knew that he couldn't do more than this. He wondered if it was worse to stay here but keep her at arm's length, or abandon her as she had expected of him. His mind was swelling with this new knowledge. He wondered if he ever would have grown to like Jennessa if she hadn't ensorcelled him. Or humans at all for that matter. He spent the rest of the night contemplating that and keeping watch on Jennessa's fitful sleep from the corner of his eye. Sly came in at some point in the night and curled up at the foot of the bed on his featherbed to sleep. They were a powerful team, but what if this is what it took to break them?