I do not own The Inheritance Cycle.
So I couldn't help it, I'm currently going through some major Tornac withdraws and I wanted so badly to write something with him in it. So I did, and I'm happy for the most part. This take place after Conjecturing: a piece in that super long chapter just filled to the brim with side stories.
Anyhow, enjoy,
Strange Ways
"You are not dying, are you?"
Tornac looked over and gave her a humored look before laughing, though it sounded to her slightly forced. "I'm not dead yet," he said drawing her away from the door and into an warm embrace, soundly kissing both of her cheeks, and then dragged her across the room to sit upon a comfortable settee. "Or at least I don't believe I am. What a pleasure it is to see you. Have you been well while I've been away?"
Rose scowled at him as she sat. "As best as I could be," she said. "You've taken your time to return. I hope all is well and nothing went amiss."
"No, my dear, nothing did," he said with a frown. "I'll admit that unexpected events came forth, and so I was forced to arrive here much later than I thought I might have. I had sent a letter telling you of this, but I'm willing to bet that you have not gotten it, yes?"
"I have not," she said turning to give him a quick smile. "Messages often go astray. I'll likely receive it within the next month or so." Rose studied him for a moment. She hadn't seen him in well over two seasons, he had left that pervious autumn, when the trees were fully bare of their leaves and it was now well into the spring months. His hair was no more white than it had been before, though it was dampened, likely from a washing, and his hairline was receding. His face looked as if it had aged, he held little color in his cheeks and new creases of age. She frowned. "Are you feeling a fever? You're as pale as snow."
Tornac smiled and shook his head. "Nay, my girl, I am quite well. It's merely been trying journey more so than I believed it would." He glanced around the room with a confused expression. "Now, tell me where is Wyn? I had requested that he stay with you."
Rose frowned, and leaned back against the cushions. "He left well over a fortnight night ago," she said simply.
Tornac looked his question.
"He did not say where nor why he had to leave, simply that he must," she explained. "Since then your fools for guards have been following after me like hungry wolves, and I've yet to have a moment to myself. If you'd be kind enough to call them off I shan't argue with you."
Tornac sighed at her unwarranted remark. "Wouldn't you?" Tornac smirked suddenly, ruffing her hair. She ducked away from him as her scowl deepened. As happy as she was to see Tornac again, she simply wanted a moment to herself, to think without interruptions, she hadn't had one for weeks and people's company was becoming rather trying. "Their following you may be the difference of life or death."
"Or the difference of me using the privy chamber in peace," she muttered, shaking her head. "I believe the assassins have, at last, realized that it's a discourtesy to murder women in their slumber. Nothing has happened for over a year."
Tornac gave her a pointed look, but said nothing. "Have you heard from Ilbert as of late?"
"No," she said with a shake of her head. "I have not." She paused for a moment, then continued. "I've been worried for him, the last I've heard is that he came down a fever but nothing more. That was well over a month ago."
Tornac was silent for a time, deep in thought. "He will recover, I'm sure," he said. "Come let's find us some supper. There is a matter I wish to speak to you about."
She soon found herself on a padded bench with a hot fire nearby and a promise of a fine repast to come. But it seemed that Tornac wasn't going to wait for their victuals to arrive before he said his piece.
"I need you to do me a favor," he said, studying her. "Or perhaps I should say two favors."
Rose's scowl deepened. "Of course," she said. "Anything." It wasn't her nature to promise something without knowing the lay of the land, but how could she deny Tornac anything? She knew that he would make to do something that she hadn't the capability to do, nor the willingness.
"Tell me what it is that is bothering you."
That she couldn't do as she didn't know herself what was troubling her. She bit her lip and folded her hands in her lap. "I cannot say," she said, "for I do not know myself."
Tornac nodded, and was silent for a moment. "Tell me, then, when you figure it out," he said as he stood up and took out a key. He walked over to desk in the corner of the room, and took out a small, polished wooden box which he picked up before returning to her. Handing the box and key to her, he sat down in his former seat. "This is not my favor, merely a gift. Take good care of it, it is a rare, precious thing."
A light came to her eyes, and she quickly took up the key, flubbing with it in her sudden haste to see what was inside. Tornac watched for as she unlocked the box and peered inside, her mouth fell open in a slight shock. "Where did you come across such a thing?" she asked, bringing the necklace out its cushioning.
"It was given to me by someone I trust," he said. "I have no use for it myself and so I thought you might enjoy it."
She quickly thanked him and set it back in the box, wishing to try it on but thinking that it was not the best to do so. There would a more fitting time to admire the piece later, she thought. Yet this did not stop her from studying the necklace once more before she cast it away into darkness. It was not a grand piece, though it was made by graceful hands, with a thin rope-like gold chain it had two teardrop shaped stones cast in a round piece of shining metal, on both sides and not far from the amulet that hung almost weightlessly at its center. The amulet itself was a simple polished circling of yellow metal with designs and small symbols etched elegantly so that they seemed to dance around a pale colored gem. Rose pressed her fingers to it and shivered, before shutting the lid of the box.
"And your request?" she said, setting the box onto her lap.
Tornac huffed a sigh, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Cordelia will very likely tell you this herself, but I feel it is my duty to warn you," he said. "She has made a request to return to her hometown in the west. She will be taking her leave within two months' time, and I have business of my own to attend to. I do not know how long I will be away, nor do I know when I will return. Which brings me my request." He gave a long piercing look.
Rose looked down at her hands, they were shaking and her eyes were burning. She blinked away the feeling, and returned Tornac's gaze. "And your request?"
Tornac visibly started. "I request that you trust me on this matter, and that you'll behave as you should. As Cordelia is choosing now to leave, I have arranged for someone to come and look after you while I am away." Rose opened her mouth to interrupt him, but he plowed on. "I know you need not a keeper, Rose," he said. "I merely wish for there to be someone here if and when you need them. I cannot simply leave you here thoroughly abandoned, nor can I take you with me. Will you agree to this request of mine?"
"I said I would," she said, her scowl deepening. She felt as if she were going to be ill or her eyes might tear up, or perhaps both. She bit her lip to the cast the feeling away. "When will you leave?"
"Not for some time," Tornac told her. "I only just returned and I'd wager that I deserve a rest before I set out once more."
The servants came inside the room with their supper in their hands. Rose started slightly having forgotten about the food due to the request Tornac gave her. It was a rather simple thing of him to ask, yet the news of what he gave her was not. Why would Cordelia wish to leave? She and Rose has their differences, yes, but she didn't see any reason as to why the woman would want to return to her home in the west. She had very little family; a sister and her sons, but none of her own. Rose was so caught up in thoughts of her own that she hardly noticed the servants arranging the food before bowing to then and leaving.
"Rose, mulled wine?" Tornac said, sliding a glass of ruby colored liquid to her.
Taking the glass from him, she took a long, slow sip. It stilled some the shaking inside, but very little of it. "What business do you have that takes you away from here?" she asked.
"It is the kind that I cannot burden you with," he said. Then seeing her expression he added, "All will be well, my girl. Don't worry yourself. Fate has a funny way of working out the wrongs done in this world."
He looked at her for quite some time in silence, then he leaned over and brushed her hair back from her face. Tornac didn't make that gesture often, not since she had grown and didn't need a father's comfort so often. She didn't remember the last time he done such. He quickly withdrew his hand and fingered the smooth goblet in front of him. "All will be well," he repeated, but to Rose it sounded as if he were saying more to himself than to her.
Rose sat back in confusion, and looked at him in interest but said nothing. He was acting rather strange, she thought and wondered for a brief moment why that was so. If Tornac wished to speak of it, he would. She remained silent, but watched him warily, certain that he wasn't telling her something vital. She knew that she'd find out soon enough, she just had to wait.
