Foreign trade was just too goddamn complicated.

Kendra had sat in on many a meeting in Kupa Keep, watching the king spewing off numbers and assets to be traded. She had believed that if he could pull it off, that any child could. But, perhaps that was a tad hasty of an assumption. Sometimes she had to remind herself that Cartman had been bred in one of the most powerful kingdoms in the land, had been brought up in an ever-evolving industrializing world. He had to stay on top of these things, and had done so with a ruthless hand, knowing that one slip could spell disaster between allies.

Kendra gulped, narrowing her eyes at the text in front of her, trying to decipher the strange relationship of prices and produce between the Larnions and Canadian Drow. She didn't exactly have a conversion chart on hand, the difference of currency nothing short of maddening as she tried to understand why the hell the Canadians seemed to pay so much more for their produce than those south of the border. Or perhaps it was an equal amount, she had no idea. Terms like inflation and currency exchange and the overall concept of elven economics were a mystery to her, knowing that she was lucky to have ended up with Kyle as a link to the elves, anyone less may not have been able to explain anything to her well enough for it to latch.

She sighed through her nose, shifting back in her padded chair and glancing over to the pale, trembling prince beside of her, heart aching. It'd been a good fifteen hours with no sign of a following attack, but he always seemed to be on that verge. Kendra had made the executive decision to unbind his arms with the promise that they'd be returned to the bands should he have another spell. She glanced down to thin wrists atop his quilt, wincing at the stark pink marks still left and the minute tears from his struggles. Gollum had pasted on a thick layer of herbs to keep them from infection, but it didn't make the reality fade away any faster.

Sporting a small, sad smile, she moved a gloved hand to slide under Kyle's, loosely linking their fingers together and turning back to her book. He wasn't looking like a pretty picture, but he at least wasn't endangering himself and anyone within his vicinity. Gollum had informed her that it was the best they could hope for as of now, and to just stay near him when able. They could only hope that it meant he would be hitting his upswing soon enough.

Stan sat, perched in a wooden chair across the room by Kyle's desk, arms crossed and staring at their connected hands with a grumpy sneer. He didn't know how many times he'd internally screamed the words "unfair" and "fucking impossible", but they seemed to be secured to a wheel, consistently spinning and running him through the same visuals time and again. He was fucking exhausted, only catching a half-hour nap at a time when Craig or Christophe would come relieve him for a few minutes. They'd offered more than once to stay for a full shift, but Stan was adamant that he could only spare short bursts of reprieve. Too much danger was still teetering, Kyle was still looking so unwell and throwing him into a perpetual panic.

He didn't understand how Kendra sat by him so calmly, merely flipping through her book as opposed to watching the prince for subtle telltale flinches. 'Because she doesn't care,' he scoffed before his shoulders sank and he sighed quietly. '…As much,' he amended. She did, that much had been made beyond obvious in the last day spent together. She had only budged from her seat to use the restroom or pace beside Kyle's bed to awaken her tingling legs. She'd napped in her chair in a way that even had Stan wincing with how goddamn uncomfortable it looked: Her cheek pressed against the back, body contorted just enough so that she could still be holding Kyle's hand, could feel if something was to go awry.

Stan wondered if she'd be here until Kyle woke up at long last, and with each passing hour, that was becoming more and more plausible a theory. She seemed just as obstinately determined to see him through it as Stan did, and it made him nauseous. She was going to be the first thing Kyle saw when he woke up, probably confused with the change in routine since it had always been Stan there beside of him. He wondered if it would upset the prince, or if such a mix-up would relieve him, even make him happy. Stan shuddered. He hoped not. He hoped just for confusion. Letting Kyle wake up, take in the brunt of what he was coming into, and maybe quietly asking where Stan was.

Selfish, perhaps. But it was the little things that kept him going anymore, Stan had discovered. Just little motions that only he and Kyle could interpret between the two of them. Stan's subtle nods for him to proceed in safety, Kyle's hidden grip on his arm reminding him to calm down. They were a language no other could read, it was an edge that he still had in this never-ending game. It was enough to stave him through yanking out his hair at the very least.

He and Kendra both looked up and towards the stairwell at a group of footsteps ascending the wooden incline. They blinked at the royal family emerging from the stairs, Stan automatically getting to his feet for their presence, Kendra trying to do the same but tangled still in Kyle's slack grip.

Sheila watched her trying to unweave their fingers and smiled, observing the care Kendra took to not rouse the sleeping prince. "Don't worry about that," she cooed, Kendra looking up at her and blinking. "You stay just as you are." Kendra gulped, bowing her head a bit, sliding her fingers back into their comfortable interlocking.

Gerald looked over at Stan, still standing and staring at them with large bags starkly bursting from under his eyes. He sighed to himself, Stan always looked nearly as worse for wear as Kyle did in his bouts. Never stopped him though, not once. He knew it upset his son that Stan went so overboard in his vigilance, but, that's what he was there for. "Stan," he finally spoke, the ranger straightening into attention. "Any word since Gollum's last visit?"

He shook his head, "Um, no, Your Majesty. No further attacks. He's just been sleeping. Uneasily though," he winced, gesturing to Kyle's furrowed brow and uncomfortable shifting. "This seems to be…worse than previous bouts," he said quietly.

Ike looked from his brother to the soldier and shrugged. "Well… she said it may seem that way if he's not releasing it all in his attacks. May just take longer for him to work through it… but at least he's not almost killing anyone."

"He hasn't woken up since his last attack, though," he said grimly, looking at Kendra with slight suspicion before returning to the Broflovskis. "That's worrying."

"He needs the rest," Sheila reminded him. "If he's sleeping, then he and the rest of us are safe. I'd rather that than hearing him cry," she cleared her throat, fighting down a wave of exhausted tears from waiting for updates. Those came later, they always did. First priority was Kyle's health, making sure that he made a full recovery. Only then would she allow herself to break down in the middle of the night and lock herself in the sanctuary, both thanking the spirits for guiding Kyle through his illness and snapping at them for cursing him in the first place. It was an arduous routine built from years of suffering, but it was one of the few things she had in the situation that kept her going, and kept her from burying herself into an overbearing pile of guilt for being so helpless.

She cleared her throat once more, straightening herself up, "Stanley, could you please go wait outside his door? We need to speak with Kendra."

Stan blinked, looking between a shocked and terrified looking Kendra and the overtly calm royal family. "Are… are you sure?"

"We know how to yell if he gets outta hand," Ike rolled his eyes. "Just friggin' go."

"Ike," Sheila warned, flicking his upper arm before turning her attention back to Stan's wary expression. "It'll be fine," she assured him.

He hesitated, stealing another glance at his bedridden prince and groaning under his breath, giving a small, conceding nod. Not as though he had much of a choice here, regardless. "Okay," he whispered, sparing Kendra a look and a shrug before turning and making his way towards the stairwell.

Ike and Gerald spread out around the room, both grabbing chairs left behind by guards and assistants to tote to Kyle's bed opposite Kendra's side. Kendra gulped, watching with a slight tremble as the three of them sat down, looking at Kyle's ashen form with her and shaking their heads, the closeness providing her with a fuller picture of the misery they were struggling through. Each of them had worried creases that seemed etched into their brow, reddened eyes and exhaustion reigning their profiles. She wondered if she looked much better by this point.

Sheila sighed, raising a plump hand and putting it over Kyle's forehead, dotingly combing through his bangs. "He always looks so skinny," she murmured, sparing Kendra a glance with an efforted grin. "He's going to look awful when he wakes up. Always takes him a few months to gain back the weight…" she trailed off, Ike looking between her and Kyle and heaving a deep sigh.

"He's always a skinny shit anyway," he muttered.

Kendra hesitated, looking at Kyle's nightstand pushed aside beside her that harbored her writing materials. She looked again at the family watching Kyle solemnly, squeezing his fingers and contorting herself around to begin scribbling down atop her parchment. She bit her lip, wondering what it was they wanted as she finished her quick note and turned back towards them, finding Gerald looking at her with a sympathetic smile. "You holding up all right?" he asked her.

She offered him a half-hearted shrug, squeezing Kyle's hand pointedly and letting out a sigh.

Ike nodded in understanding, "It fuckin' sucks," he concurred. "Asshole is stubborn, though. He'll be awake and bitching before you know it."

"Ike," Sheila warned.

He gave her an innocent shrug, "What? She's gonna be family, she should get used to it. 'Sides, Kyle talks worse than I do half the time." Kendra couldn't help but laugh, nodding in agreement. Sheila shook her head, muttering under her breath about all the wasted hours she spent trying to keep them as civil, polite talkers.

Kendra looked between them, gulping and reaching back for her paper with shaking fingers, her other hand tightening around Kyle's for some menial means of support. She handed it off to Gerald, the other two leaning in and reading a simple, 'So, I understand if it's not my business or if you don't know. But what's wrong with him?'

They paused, Gerald and Sheila sharing a skeptical look before Ike rolled his eyes. "Guys. She's marrying him. She needs to know more than anyone." Kendra's brow raised, wondering just how damn secret they were keeping his illness if that were the case.

Sheila cleared her throat, stroking a thumb over Kyle's forehead and nodding slowly. "This stays with you," she began, looking up at her with steely green eyes that sent a tremor down Kendra's spine, seeing exactly where Kyle got it from. "Only we and Gollum know. Stanley doesn't know. Not even Kyle knows, do you understand?"

Her heart hitched, nodding briskly and bringing her other hand up to cup Kyle's, sitting patiently for one of them to continue.

Gerald took the reins, letting out a long breath. "We… can't even say it's something wrong with him," he winced. "In fact… it's… a blessing, hard as that is to believe," he shrugged.

Kendra raised her brow in incredulity, looking between her fallen fiancé and the uncomfortable faces of his family.

Ike picked up, "Okay, so, there's some basic elven history you have to know to know why it's a 'blessing'," he said, Kendra slowly nodding him on. "Has Kyle told you about The Creation?" She shook her head and he groaned quietly. Great. Figures Kyle slacked on the damn mythology.

Sheila clicked her teeth. "To put it very briefly, the Ssussun came about from one elf, The Creator," she shrugged. "Obviously, They were very powerful. Created life, nature, light… everything we consider good." Kendra blinked, waiting for this to tie-in somehow as opposed to just learning a damn bedtime story. Sheila continued, "The Creator had a… special ability that few other elves after have had. They could hold a seed and create plant life without soil."

Kendra nearly jerked back, baffled by such a statement. Gerald nodded at her reaction, "Exactly. It's unique. And only very powerful elves have been able to do it since the dawn of our time. Maybe one every few generations, but they're usually… well… They usually don't last long," he shrugged. "Either the power consumes them and their body can't handle it or… they… kill themselves because it's such an awful way to live."

She swallowed, looking between Kyle and the other three, raising a shaking hand and pointing to him. Ike nodded, "Yeah. He's one of 'em."

Sheila sighed, "Word got out about him using his powers when he was a baby, we had to change the story and spread the rumor ourselves. Told everyone he just threw a branch… But, he grew a tree," she whispered, looking back at her son with heartbroken eyes. "Found an acorn and it just turned to a sapling in his little hand before he couldn't hold it anymore. We kept trying to get to him but… there were roots everywhere. It just kept growing, made a cage around him."

"And he was just in there laughing," Gerald smiled meekly. "But it took us a good hour to get to him, the plants just didn't want anyone to interfere with him creating. We tried to hold it, didn't give him the same magic training as most Drow kids take, only showed him how to suppress it... Didn't go over so well. His magic had no release, so it just built and built as he learned to keep it down before it just…" he stopped, struggling for words and his eyes flittering down miserably.

"Crippled him," Ike finished, cringing at his parents looking so damn guilty before turning his attention back to an awe-struck Kendra. "He almost died when he was eight it hit him so damn hard. And now, he's on these… potions. Because he isn't stable enough to actually wield most of his magic since he never had training. They suppress his power, but it can only keep so much down before… he hits these spells," he gestured to his unconscious brother. "Then it just kind of resets him and he starts all over again."

Kendra reached back for her supplies, bringing them onto the bed and beginning to scribe, mind racing. This was almost too much at once, unable to wrap her head around the fact that she was holding hands with someone on par with whom the Drow considered the utmost power to be reached. It was terrifying, but not nearly as much as being told that they don't last long. Having that catapulted at her out of nowhere was not treating her already-weary psyche well. She handed it off to Sheila, 'But he showed me some magic, he brought a leaf back to life. I thought he didn't have training?'

She looked at her with a sad smile, "Exactly. He was never shown how to do that. He just knows. We managed to convince him that only certain, slower Drow need actual training, that it's instinctual in most all of us… But no. We're born with the ability, but not the know-how. Kyle can do nearly anything within the realm of elven magic just by wanting to. It's his greatest asset… and his greatest liability," she winced.

'Because it makes him so sick?'

Gerald nodded slowly, "Well, that and… and it makes him… valuable," he said with caution. "Others in our lore with his abilities were hunted for their power, or just ostracized until someone who wanted to use them feigned pity and turned them to the side of the Olath. Or… his powers could be used for great things… but destroy him in the process," he looked down at his hands and sighed sadly. Kendra cocked her head a bit and Sheila rubbed Gerald's shoulder.

"Kyle's great grandmother, Gerald's grandmother… she was also one of the 'descendants'," she shrugged. "She ended up using all her power to balance the instability of The Stick during The War. It put her into a coma and eventually killed her."

Kendra blinked, rapidly jotting down another note, eyes fleeting between her paper and Kyle's unknowing face. Ike took it from her as she finished, 'How did that work? Why was it unbalanced?'

Ike looked at her with heavy brown eyes, reading ancestral guilt as he murmured out, "Humans. They infected it with their own magic, but didn't know how to do so properly. The Stick is an elven creation, it wasn't able to handle having a human's influx. They kept adding more and more, trying to get it to work, and it nearly wiped everything out. So, Great Grandma had to match their power to get it back under control. She was the only one that could."

"She figured it was either her or a good twenty elves that'd have to give up their lives to keep it balanced," Gerald added.

Kendra took a deep breath, slowly writing out another note and sliding it under his bowed head. 'So, this power gets passed down?'

He looked up at her and shrugged, "We don't know. These two are the only ones whose identities aren't so heavily protected in the lore that we know of. The others could have been through my family, or it could be mere coincidence that it continued down the line."

"Honestly, if that's the case, it makes you a blessing," Sheila said quietly, Kendra shooting her head towards her and staring in bewilderment. "We don't know if… you and Kyle can have actual children…" she started slowly.

'Yeah, no. I don't think that's happening,' Kenny broke out for a moment before being shoved back down where he belonged.

"But this kind of power can only reside in pure-blooded elves. So, any children the two of you have will either be mixed-blooded or adopted. Either way, it cuts off our bloodline. If this is something that can be passed down, then we can stop it right here," she said firmly, Kendra reading both relief and devastation in the declaration.

Kendra cleared her throat with a wince, pointing meekly at Ike who shrugged. "Yeah, that's why I'm here," he answered without so much as a frown. "They didn't want any more kids of their own line, so they took me in when I showed up."

"You make it sound so awful, Isaac," his mother lectured.

He snorted, "Listen, I'm glad it worked out that way, but don't pretend you wanted a human kid all along. I just happened to come along and it worked out." Sheila and Gerald looked at each other, still guilt-laden and sighing, leaning against one another and watching Kyle's breathing. Ike turned back to Kendra who seemed to still be reeling from all this information piling on top of her. "Listen, the important thing here is Kyle can never know," he emphasized, making sure she looked at him once again and widening his eyes pointedly. "Last thing we need is for him to be freaking out that he's the next 'chosen one' or whatever, and thinking he's going to die in the same way Great Grandma did."

"Precisely," Sheila agreed. "We're already scared enough of that to cover him as well. None of their stories end with a 'happily ever after'. We can pray that Kyle's will, but that's as much as can be done. Anything more would make it so he knows, and that would do nothing more than add an unnecessary strain to his health. We've never let him see those stories, they've been hidden away and aren't to be taken back out until he passes. The best we can do is just tell him he was born with more power than a usual elf and leave it at that. Do you understand?"

Kendra nodded briskly, wrist working away and a shaking breath escaping her lips. This was a lot. This was almost too much. Her heart was pounding, her stomach clenching in worry. What if each of these spells of his were counting down until one finally did him in? She'd been told this one seemed more painful than those of the past, would they just keep worsening as time went on? Would Kyle just deteriorate as the power became more and more impatient for release? She shuddered, unable to help tightening around his fingers, terrified by the notion. She handed her page off, 'How does no one else in the palace know that's what it is? Many have seen this before, right?'

Gerald shrugged, "No one who knew of my grandmother's situation is still alive, or their kids are alive and believe it to be no more than a fairytale. And… we just did a damn good job at convincing the kingdom that he was just unusually powerful. Look around," he gestured, Kendra doing so and looking back at him with a tilted head. "Every plant in here is connected to soil. We made sure of it. Even the vines," he pointed to the dirt caked between the cracks of Kyle's walls. No one knows that he can make them go without the soil keeping them alive. We've taken every precaution we can to keep this hidden. We've only let them know that he gets sick from the power, but he makes it through."

'Did your grandmother get sick with her power, too?'

Gerald winced, "I don't know," he admitted. "But… I don't think so. Or if she did, she had less of it than Kyle does and could keep moving. She might've learned how to harness it if she wasn't told to keep it under wraps like we did to him."

Sheila went back to petting through Kyle's hair, looking at Kendra with a burdened face and guilted eyes. "I'm sorry," she said softly, getting Kendra's confused attention on her. "I'm sorry that you came into this without knowing what you would be undertaking. Your marriage is going to be… difficult," she said slowly. "On more levels than we were willing to tell you. And there'll be these times when he's sick and the kingdom will be fully in your hands until he heals. It's a very heavy price to pay, and I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner."

She looked along the three of them cringing into themselves a bit, dipping her quill and writing away, unable to keep a saddened smile from her face before passing it off to her. 'That's fine, and I understand why I wasn't told. The whole mixed-species thing was enough for us all to need to take a few months to let settle. I'm just glad this thing only lasts a week or so at a time. I hate seeing him like this.'

Sheila looked back at her, touched and smiling softly. "You're nothing like your king," she said, Gerald and Ike looking at her in slight surprise for saying something so politically bold. She looked at them and scoffed, "We can't kid ourselves. He despises Kyle, would be off laughing if he saw him like this," she gestured down to her son before looking back at Kendra. "But you're staying with him, and taking care of him," she emphasized, reaching over and squeezing her hand atop Kyle's. "You're going to make a wonderful queen for him. We weren't so sure when the idea came about, but now we know." Kendra's face went beet red, blue eyes flittering about before gulping and nodding in embarrassed thanks.

Ike shook his head, "Mom. Stop. You're making this corny enough for all of us to get as sick as Ky."

"Hush, you," Sheila scolded, slapping Gerald with the back of her hand as he stifled a laugh. She sighed, shaking her head and turning back to Kendra with a smile that made her heart ache. It reminded her far too much of Liane, of her own mother that he could barely remember from dreams long passed. Nothing but simplistic, maternal comfort that she'd missed so dearly since Queen Liane's passing, finding a tender warmth deep within being confronted with it once more. "We do have to go back to business unfortunately," Sheila informed her. "Is there anything you need, Hon?"

Kendra went to shake her head before stopping, holding up a finger and rapidly writing down a note to throw at Ike. He blinked, reading, 'Who is Nalia?'

He looked at her with a cocked brow. "Nalia? How do you know about her?" Another note immediately came to him, even more baffled as he handed it off to his parents.

'Kyle talked to me before he last passed out. Said I smell like her in Elvish. Stanley wouldn't tell me if that's a good or bad thing.'

Sheila and Gerald shared a look before glancing to their eldest son and Gerald cleared his throat. "Well… depends on who you ask. Her story has a lot of versions," he shrugged. "But all of them agree that she was the one who took flowers from The Creator and went to plant them around the world."

"She was a whore," Ike said blandly, Sheila reaching around and smacking his arm.

"You watch your mouth," she lectured before looking at Kendra's hurt face and shaking her head. "No, not a 'whore'," she rolled her eyes. "She always smelled like flowers. She lured people in because they wanted to know what smelled so wonderful."

"And then slept with all of them."

"Ike. Stop," Gerald rubbed his eyes. "No. She didn't. A few, yes. Any that she didn't find worthy of her time were made into soil. So, they could 'finally call themselves useful'," he quoted from a long-standing tale he'd read time and again.

Kendra looked at them skeptically, writing another slow note and making sure to keep it from Ike's hands as she passed it to the king and queen. 'And those she did?'

"She kept with her," Sheila shrugged. "She only kept those who impressed her, those who made her love them. People who brought her her flowers in new colors, or new kinds all together, or those who showed her how much they cared about her work. It's a lovely story."

"It's how I learned about sex," Ike rolled his eyes, barely avoiding another smack. "She's called the goddamn temptress, Mom."

Sheila frowned, "She's called the flower, Isaac."

"More like the deflowered."

"All right, that's enough, go downstairs," Sheila snapped, Ike raising his hands in defense. He muttered under his breath and kicked his chair out of the way, mocking his mother's tone as he made way to the stairs. Sheila shook her head, looking back at Kendra looking embarrassed, flattered, and just confused. "It's a good thing to be called," she promised. "Nalia is so important to the Drow. Even with those like Ike who don't read past the text. It was always Kyle's favorite story."

Gerald nodded, "He thought it was so great that she was trusted with so much responsibility and came through. And got to destroy anyone that she didn't find worthwhile. He envied that," he smirked. "He would only mean it in a good way, he respects Nalia too much for anything less."

Kendra looked down at Kyle, feeling that warm fondness worming its way back through her chest and squeezing his hand a bit tighter.

Sheila smirked at her knowingly, motioning for Gerald to stand with her. "You just send someone if you need anything, Dear." Kendra nodded, not able to so much as glance at them as she continued to stare at the prince. Sheila looked at Gerald with a grin, one that he'd lived with through the years as her never-ending 'I told you so' expression. He smiled, admitting defeat, and nodded her on, both patting Kyle's head before turning and heading back to walk out of the room, out of Kendra's moment.

Kendra took a deep breath, leaning her forehead down against his temple and breathing in a rich smell of pine and honeycombs. She heard the door quietly shutting at the end of the stairwell. She felt so conflicted. She was filled with nothing but worry, but at the same time relishing in the kindest thing that had ever been said to her. Did Kyle mean it? Was it just the sickness talking? Or had he really made such a comparison when lost in the throes of his suffering. If anyone could do it, she supposed, it would be Kyle.

She dropped her guard for just a moment, letting Kenny take the reins again and sniffling, nuzzling down against Kyle's unresponsive head. He didn't know what to do. He just wanted Kyle awake again, wanted to pick back up where they left off. Or did this take them further? Would this propel him to tell Kyle the truth faster or hold him back on the off-chance he'd be breaking Kyle's heart? He had no idea, and the anticipation was killing him. A shaking breath rattled his lungs, reaching up to pull down the scarf over his mouth and plant his lips against Kyle's cheek. "I hope you'll understand," he whispered. He couldn't help a wide, adoring smile as Kyle let out a soft noise at his voice, shifting in his slumber to nestle closer against his warmth. Kenny sighed happily, planting soft pecks along his face, letting himself pretend, for just this brief moment, that truths were out, that they remained on their path, and that their future together stayed bright.