See first chapter for disclaimers/warnings/summaries. Link to TBDH Forum is on my profile. This chapter was betaed by the wonderful and talented brissygirl. All remaining mistakes are my own.
RECAP: Harry and Co arrive at the public stadium to be registered and admitted, along with the Deveraine circle, for his first official Hunt. They all decide to split up, once they are inside, pairing off according to rank to see to their political and recreational duties. Harry is separated from Theo and Charlie, to be enjoying himself with fellow Submissive Soula Deveraine (Ilsa's youngest daughter), and Dahlia and the others. In the meantime, Terius(Snape Pareya) finds himself at odds with his circle, because they are unbalanced without a Beta and Aiden(the hellhound) discovers that Niko has been messing around in Hermione's head.
Harry watched as Bahn, Bhindi, Theo and Delani disappeared into the crowd. The Deveraine Alpha hadn't wasted a moment's time in whisking Theo away, with warnings to her fellow bondmates to be on guard, the entire Circle dispersed. Bahn and Bhindi linked hands and vanished rather quickly. The Pareya were next to scatter, taking the children with them, until only those of Hunting age remained, along with the Gheyos and Betas.
"Dahlia!"
A new voice caught Harry's attention and he turned in time to see a pretty Indian young woman half-lift and twirl Dahlia around in a hug that was definitely more than friendly. He was surprised to see Dahlia's face brighten considerably as she let herself be whirled around without protest, laughing honestly for the first time since that morning.
"Dy!" Laughter spilled out as Dahlia swirled to a stop. "Dyshoka, put me down, silly! You'll reintroduce my breakfast to the morning air and I highly doubt that anyone here would appreciate it." Her dark eyes sparkled merrily as her feet touched the ground once more. "I certainly wouldn't. Though I will say that it's good to see you too." She hugged her lover-friend back and impulsively smacked a light kiss to the corner of that slanted jaw. "And I only saw you a few hours ago, to what do I owe such a welcome?"
"Aren't I allowed to spoil you?" The dark-haired beauty retorted. She was taller than Dahlia by at least a head and her height suddenly made the Gheyo appear rather short. "That isn't fair at all." Dyshoka stepped back from the embrace and flung her thick, black braid of hair over one shoulder. The golden chains and chimes threaded through it tinkled gaily as she tucked a few strands of hair behind her heavily jeweled ears. "You look lovely."
"You may spoil me all you like," Dahlia retorted. "And you look quite nice yourself. I'd forgotten how gorgeous you look in your full regalia. Impressive. I didn't know it was possible to move quite so easily wearing so much gold." She ducked away from the half-hearted smack. "Are you presenting today or tomorrow? I don't remember the order of the names, too much trouble to keep all of the letters straight. You must be so excited." Her smile dimmed when Dyshoka's smile wavered. "Dy? What happened?"
"Hmm?" The smile became forced, the warmth suddenly fading into a bland blankness. "It's nothing to worry about. It's fine."
"It's fine?"
"I'm fine," she corrected.
"Don't give me that, who said what?" Dahlia bristled, protectively. Her dark brows furrowed together and a faint flicker of her warrior's aura flared to life with a ripple of white-purple magic giving off the softest of glows.
Harry sucked in a breath when he found himself actually seeing and watching the aura flare to life, before it faded from his sight. For a moment, he thought he had been seeing things, but realizing how unusual and strange everything had been since their arrival in Nevarah, he knew it was likely real and probably meant something that he would figure out later on. The name sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it just yet. His brow furrowed in confusion.
"Nothing to worry over, lovey." Dyshoka twisted away from Dahlia's questing hands and hugged her from behind, effectively redirecting the conversation away from her person. "Ah, you've brought friends and the whole clan?" She gave a light-fingered wave, the forced smile relaxing by a few degrees as her interested eyes flickered over the group. "Hello, everyone. Good to see you all again."
"Dyshoka." Greta murmured with an inclination of her head. She smiled at the closeness between the two girls. "Are you here alone?" Her violet eyes swept appreciatively over the well-dressed figure. "allow me to echo my daughter's compliments, you look quite stunning."
Dyshoka was clad in a brightly colored, short-sleeved cropped top, with a full, embroidered skirt, showing off a well-toned torso and dainty, dancer's feet. Gold was her accent of choice, with a navel ring, a belly chain, anklets and a collection of equally colorful bangles on both arms. The traditional collar necklace matched the pink and purple colors of the traditional outfit, best known as Lehenga choli. She managed a more genuine smile at the compliment and lightly rocked forward on her heels to make the jewelry tinkle.
"Doesn't matter if you are." Ilsa picked up. She flashed a rare smile. "You look lovely." The sentiment was echoed as the older Gheyo looked past the fancy clothes to take note of the famous Kalzik symbols and runes expertly hidden beneath the traditional mehendi—dark tattoos that covered her hands up to her wrists and her feet up to her ankles—a sign of great power within and without. "I had no idea this was your—mark."
Dyshoka's smile grew wide and slightly knowing as she realized what the older women were reading from her very obvious outfit. For once, she was showing off something that she often kept very-well hidden. "Thank you kindly, your ladyships. It is not something I tend to advertise. I see no reason to do so."
"Indeed." Ilsa hummed.
"None of that title business, please." Greta rolled her eyes. "I don't think I'll ever live it down, being a lady and all that. Have fun today—take Dahlia somewhere and wipe that frown off of her face. She's been grumpy since she woke and we all know how irritating that can be. You have my full permission, whether you need it or not."
"Mother!" Dahlia blushed the faintest hues of pink, but she didn't move away from the complicated embrace of her lover.
Dyshoka snickered softly.
"Greta." Ilsa scolded, lightly. "You're being difficult. You've held your title the same amount of time as I have—since birth. Now, come on. The crowds are making me twitch and I'm sure the younger ones are too polite to tell us to amuse ourselves elsewhere. I want to visit the circuits before they start drawing for cage matches."
"I'm being difficult?" The taller woman snorted. "Oh well now that's just rich." Greta stalked after the shorter Gheyo and they disappeared into the crowd. "You're not taking any cage matches, if I have anything to say about it. You left a lot out of that conversation of fifteen years ago and you have some nerve waltzing off and—are you listening to me? Twitching doesn't even begin to cover your-"
Dyshoka blinked at their departure, before slipping one hand down to rest on Dahlia's bared waist. "Am I missing something?"
"If you are, then I missed it too." Dahlia chuckled. "They'll probably work it out once they've had a chance to spar with each other. I don't think they have, not since Mum arrived anyway. It's our way of handling things and I think they're both fairly upset. A few hours of hacking and slashing will likely fix everything."
Aracle winced. "Which means they'll be satisfied but in terrible tempers. I can't wait." The sarcasm was too obvious to ignore as he fished a mint out of somewhere and popped it in his mouth. A second later, he automatically produced a handful of them and held it out in silent invitation.
As if by habit, nearly everyone took one.
Harry found himself smiling as he accepted the treat for what it was. He unwrapped the sweet and popped it into his mouth, sucking on the round minty ball. It fizzed briefly in his mouth and then gave out an intense, cooling sensation that sent a delightful shiver through his body and seemed to sharpen his senses in the same instant. He stared at the wrapper in amazement, then at his fingers, coated in the faintest dusting of powdered sugar. He definitely couldn't quite recall the last one doing that. He turned questioning eyes to the Rheyo who merely winked in answer to the silent question and gave a tilt of his head toward Charlie.
"Coming, flamehead? We don't have all day, time to cut a few lines, eh?"
Charlie shrugged, moving to join him as the Gheyos began to pair off. Takar and Okahn were hovering, impatient, but waiting for him anyway. "Flamehead?" He questioned, accepting the hearty slap on the back as Takar half-nudged him forward. He turned back halfway to twitch his fingers in a wave before the older Betas pulled him away.
Harry's attention was redirected from Theo and Charlie's departure to Dahlia and Dyshoka. He now realized just how insignificant one could feel in a giant crowd, as he realized that all familiar faces had left. Well, familiar by way of those he knew from outside of Nevarah, that is.
"Relax," Ariki's warm voice was friendly and light, as he passed Harry another candy. "For later," he said, quickly. "It'll be a fun day. Don't stress over it."
"Who's stressing?" Soula wanted to know. She stood on tip-toe, trying to see over the heads of the crowd.
Harry took the extra sweet, tucking it into his pocket. Seeing Soula's strange dance, he took a quick check of his surroundings and realized there was one distinct advantage to being a Submissive. A dragel Submissive, at least. Next to Soula, they were definitely the shortest ones in the group. Standing on tip-toe did little to alleviate the problem.
Taking stock of his surroundings was a habit that Harry tried not to think of, the moment that all familiar faces were out of view. He didn't want to remember why this was a good habit to have, because the reason he did so now, was definitely not a good one. The quick security check was helpful though.
There was Ariki, Soula, Dahlia and Dyshoka, along with a dark-haired girl who Soula had pointed out as another sister sharing the same father, named Lorelei. His furrow of confusion turned to one of concentration. He was certain he'd heard Dahlia say something about Wikhn and Mimei and then Soula had spoken of the pretty Air elemental, Shayla, the girl who could've been Luna's twin. He remembered her with something of a smile, hoping that he would have a chance to know her a little better today.
"Ariki, I can't see a thing. Can you check for me?" Soula turned her best smile on her older brother, rocking forward on her tip-toes again. "Please?"
"If she's coming, then she'll be here." Ariki sighed. But even as he spoke, he stretched up to scan the crowds.
"Would you even be able to see her?" Lorelei snorted. "She's an heiress isn't she? I doubt she'll just waltz through the crowds to come see someone like you. Personally, I'd rather not put up with two shrieking submissives on their first hunt." The brunette inspected her fingernails. "I'd invite my own friends, but they're all busy being introduced for the morning show, so I'll be tagging around until one of them calls in, alright?"
"Hey!" Soula protested. "That's so unfair. We don't shriek and it's your first hunt too."
"What are we, leftovers?" Ariki blinked at her. "Be nice, Lei."
"I'm not trying to be fair," Lorelei snapped her fingers in the air, casting a wandless tempus. "Or nice. I hate first days. They always feel so weird and strange and awkward. I wish I could stay home. How long are we waiting here and who are we waiting for anyway?"
"I hope you wouldn't leave without me, cupcake." Mimei's voice turned heads before her stunning figure came into view. She was a vision of perfectly coiffed blonde hair and strawberry pink, with a fat bubblegum bubble growing from her pursed lips.
Walking beside her, a vision of brooding darkness, Wikhn's pink-eyed gaze only seemed to compliment her as he pantomimed popping said sticky bubble with one pointed fingernail. They walked in stride, dressed to the hilt in shiny, plated armor with dangerous looking knives, swords with various weapons fastened upon their person.
"Oi, don't even think about it," Mimei's dancing eyes flashed him a look as she snapped her gum and gave a cheery nod to all of them. "Hey Chief," She sketched a bow to Dahlia, head dipping low, hair swinging over her shoulders. "Ace." The respectful title was immediately following, her tone serious.
"My Ace," Wikhn echoed. He clicked his heels together, eyes remaining locked with Dahlia's dark ones as he completed the formal show of respect.
"Wik, Mei." Dahlia's smile softened at once and she gave a two-fingered salute to acknowledge the respect paid to her. "You look dressed to kill."
Mimei wrinkled her nose. "Please don't remind me. I just want to be laid before this day is over. Multiple times, preferably."
Wikhn elbowed her as Lorelei and Harry choked in unison. "There are virgin ears present, you twit." He rapped her sharply on the head, dancing out of reach of her jab. "Show some respect." His gaze flickered over the crowd and rested a second longer on Harry, lips quirking into the tiniest semblance of a smile. "Are we waiting on the rest of the crew?"
"I don't know," Dahlia frowned. "I didn't exactly order you all to assemble, though I did make sure you knew when I crossed the gate." She nodded towards the grand entrance. "We can all catch up later, I suppose."
"We're not leaving without Shayla." Soula folded her arms across her chest. "I mean it, Dahlia. Whatever issues you have with her, I don't and I want her here."
Dahlia's eyes narrowed faintly and she perked a brow. "Suit yourself."
Before the tension could stretch, Dyshoka intervened. She hugged Dahlia from behind once more, resting her head atop Dahlia's braided bun. "I'm bored, babe. Take me dancing?" She offered a winning smile, her dark eyes pleading. "I'm sure it'd be good for all the firsties too. They couldn't possibly have a problem with dancing."
"Isn't it a little early for that?" Dahlia ignored the innocent expression, her own dark eyes narrowing faintly. "And you never volunteer for dancing first thing in the day unless you're really stressed. What happened? Was it those idiot sisters of yours again?"
"They aren't all idiots." Dyshoka defended. "Some of them are quite nice." Her stomach growled faintly and she looked heaven-ward. "Alright, I take it back. I skipped breakfast for reasons that I refuse to divulge, and if you wish me to remain in good humors then you will remedy that at your first opportunity."
"Oh I will, will I?" Dahlia frowned. "You're not supposed to skip meals. What were you thinking?"
"Feed me first, then dancing and then we can decide just how stressed I am, hm?" Dyshoka tapped her feet, causing the thick anklets to tingle enticingly. "It shouldn't affect my healer status as long as I have something to eat within the next hour, so hurry it up. Haven't all day to waste standing around doing nothing."
"Bossy little thing, aren't you?" Dahlia retorted. She reached up to pry the bejeweled arms out from around her neck and turned around to face her lover. "Alright, already. Food we can do and hour—I'll make it happen." She announced, after a moment. Her gaze flickered to Harry and her siblings, including her Gheyos. "Then again, that might not be enough time. Am I in charge of the rest of you lot? I wasn't exactly planning on it."
Soula immediately adopted a pleading expression. "Please? Please, please, please? I swear I'll be quiet and I'll behave and I won't do anything to-"
"Do make promises you can't keep, Zo." Dahlia's lips twitched. She'd heard that argument before. "I'll babysit you all for a few hours, but after that I want some time to myself, me and my girl." She drew Dyshoka close with an arm around her waist. Her eyes flickered briefly to Wikhn and Mimei. "and I don't want to be interrupted, so be aware of that. This is serious. If you can't abide by my rules, you need to speak up now and I'll make other arrangements."
"What kind of arrangements?" Ariki frowned. "We're capable of exploring on our own, you know."
"Capable, but actually doing so safely remains to be seen," Dahlia said. She lifted her chin at the sudden look of defiance on her brother's face. "And I don't mean anything by that nor am I trying to pull a rank that I do not have, but if you do want me to-"
"That sounds good to me. In fact, I happen to know that there's cake at that café in the corner of the fourth section in the outdoor plaza and I want a piece. So food?" She looked to Dahlia. "You can feed them too. I know you can afford it," Dyshoka teased. "We can figure out the mechanics of who wants to be where later and we can bring the boys too, right?" She nodded towards Ariki and Harry.
"Is that your stomach talking or your brain?" came the immediate answer as Dahlia's irritation faded into exasperation. "I'm serious. Ariki, I know you're a Beta, but you're also unattached and Soula, well, you know what I would say. I am only asking, because you know I won't be keeping to the traditional lines. You'd be wandering into Gheyo territory and you would have to listen to what I say. If either of you are coming with me, and I do include each of you in this warning, then I want you to understand exactly what that means. If there is even a hint of a doubt in your mind that you can't abide by that, I need to know. All joking and warm-fuzzies aside, I do need to know."
"Wait a second," Soula held up a hand. "Shayla's almost here, I can practically feel her. Wait so you don't have to repeat your warning. I wouldn't remember to tell her, 'cause it's always too long." She checked her fingernails. "And I do know what you're going to say, because you're always saying. I'm fine, Dahlia. Really. I'm not going to—wander off—like Kandra did."
"Soula!" Dahlia stared at her for a moment, then turned to her brother for support. "It is not that long, Ariki, say something! I am not talking because I like the sound of my own voice. It's important. Do you even know the kinds of places you'll be walking into? This is not like simply showing up for a match or stopping to wish me luck in a locker room with Mum standing behind you."
"It is kind of long," Ariki said, sheepishly. "I mean, we both know not to lose our heads, but you tend to exaggerate sometimes and really, it's hard to take you seriously when there really isn't-"
Dahlia's face darkened considerably and her lips pressed together in a thin line. Wikhn and Mimei exchanged a glance and shuffled uncomfortably when Dahlia's eagle-eyed gaze zeroed in on them. Out of all present at the moment, they would know just how true their Ace's words were.
Harry shared the sudden feeling of unease, reminded of the moment in the healer's clinic when Dahlia had stepped in to have Theo and Charlie removed from the examination room. He remembered thinking that the huge scar was a warning and was now reminded of just how significant a warning it was. He made a mental note to listen to everything the older girl said, if only to take something from the experience she was willing to share. At the very least, he trusted her enough for the moment.
"This time is a bit more serious, I'd think." Dyshoka said, sensibly. She draped an arm over Dahlia's shoulder, long fingers gently massaging the base of her lover's neck in an attempt to ease some of the visible tension. "This is very different from a cage match, I'm surprised your parents did not mention anything."
"Our parents worry and beyond that, they worry some more." Ariki scrubbed a hand through his hair. "We've been warned so many times, I think it's wearing off."
"I see." Dyshoka sighed. "Well then, even if you have heard her or your parents say it a million times, I'd think she'd have something extra to add to it. Dahlia doesn't just spout out warnings for the fun of it. They are very real as are her warnings. They are meant to be taken seriously. Have either of you ever seen her in full Gheyo dress and form? I wouldn't think so, because I have known her since she accepted her mantle and I've been present to every formal duel since. You honestly wouldn't know what's really involved."
"Our mother is a Gheyo," Soula rolled her eyes. "One of the most influential for this century. She holds a blood title. I think we're informed, thank you very much."
"Right." Dyshoka frowned, finally giving up. "You'll simply have to learn on your own. This is your first Hunt after all, isn't it?"
"And it isn't yours?" Lorelei sniped. "We're not children." She gave a jerk of her head at Harry. "He's bonded and I expect that the rest of us will-"
"It's my second, actually." Dyshoka said, smoothly. Her smile took on a faintly feral edge. "Due to personal reasons, I chose not to pursue my Intended at the end of the last hunt. Things have changed since then and I understand and respect that. Believe me when I say that I know what I am talking about. If you do not wish to have my advice then I will not be forcing it upon you. Suffice it to say that you're very lucky that Dahlia has such far-reaching reputation. I am sure there is very little that she wouldn't be able to wrangle for either of you, should you ask."
"Reputation?" Lorelei snorted. She had always been at odds with her Gheyo sister. "I'll believe that when I-"
"Enough." Dahlia said, sharply. Her soft-brown eyes flickered a light hint of purple before she frowned at her sister and then at Dyshoka. "Both of you." She turned back to Soula just as the crowd parted to allow a serene Shayla to approach them.
The Air Clan's heiress was indeed walking through the masses, alone and without interference. The crowd kept well away from her as she walked, clad in floating, shimmering wisps of scarves and glittery, gauzy material, leading credibility to her ethereal look, a faint white glow surrounding her. Her eyes, pale and grey, seemed lifeless and dull as she came to a stop just outside of their little huddle.
"Shayla!" Soula chirped. She flung her arms around her friend's neck, hugging tight and bouncing on her toes. "You look so amazing. I love your hair and are you glowing? You're glowing! That's so pretty. I didn't know you could do that. I wish I could do that."
"Thanks, I think." Shayla grimaced. "It's an air thing. Breathing, Soula?" She twitched, faintly, her arms fluttering by her sides as if she was not sure whether she ought to hug her best friend back.
The hug immediately released her and Soula blushed. "Whoops. Sorry. I forget my own strength sometimes. Hey, are you alright? You look a bit—peaky."
"Really? I hadn't noticed. You look quite stunning yourself, I didn't think your Mum would let you out of the house in that," Shayla's smile finally surfaced, a hint of mischief reflected on her pretty, pale face. "Hello, everyone. Ariki. Lorelei, oh Harry!" She pulled away from Soula to grab Harry in a hug.
Harry sucked in a breath, feeling the faint tremor in her limbs as she hugged him hard enough to hurt, then pulled back to smile, the expression somehow holding sadness instead of cheer. "I didn't think I would see you today. You look adorable! You're hunting, aren't you? Oh do say you are. Those are hunting robes if I ever saw any and I'm sure there are plenty of lucky candidates that would be honored to have you for their very own. It's good to see you again, so soon. How are you feeling?" She paused for a breath and immediately slapped a hand to his forehead, feeling it for a temperature.
Dahlia exhaled sharply and turned on her heel. She muttered something to which Dyshoka's lips quirked into a smile and she turned back to the little group. "I think we should go, before our chief escort decides she isn't in the mood. I'm actually hungry, and I need to eat a mostly balanced meal for the day to keep my healer status where I like it to be, so," She half-shrugged. "Second breakfast, anyone?"
"That sounds brilliant," Soula chirped. She linked arms with Harry and Shayla, charging after her big sister.
The outdoor plaza was a nice, open place, the flooring a section of natural, smooth, flat rock with a cloth canopy overhead that rippled in the sunny breeze that blew through the place. There were some screens set up in a few corners, to form dining booths that would allow for some semblance of privacy. The tables were spelled to the floor, along with the tablecloths and items such as condiments, had a returning charm administered so that they could not be knocked off the floor.
It was a lovely little café and it was barely half-full at most, with plenty of good tables with an excellent view. Dahlia stood back and let her younger sisters squabble over the perfect one, before she cast a warding of her own around the selected space. With much shuffling and grumbling, they all situated themselves satisfactorily for a causal dining experience.
At least, Dahlia next to Dyshoka and Mimei, with her siblings scattered just within reach. Harry found himself sandwiched between the friendly Ariki and the slightly brooding Wikhn. They were seated at a wide round table with circular bench seating and only one 'exit.' It bothered him, faintly, but he dismissed it after some thought, realizing that while he would probably have to climb over laps to reach said exit, he had no real wish to leave alone. Dahlia's grumbling about safety in pairs had him taking her advice to heart, especially when he'd seen the shadows that had touched their faces when they'd mentioned Kandra.
He would definitely make sure he stayed close today, even if he had to call Theo and Charlie. A warm, fresh breeze wafted over him and Harry almost smiled. The section screens were decorated with pretty, gold and white paper, bearing scroll-like vine designs along the center of each panel. The view that Lorelei and Soula had finally decided on, showed a vast expanse of rolling, green hills with the occasional bright butterfly glittering in the distance. He could see mountains, hissing and spitting fire—the same ones Ilsa had pointed out earlier—and if he looked upward, as far as the canopy's edge would allow, he could see the thick, white clouds that separated the air elemental's from the rest of Nevarah.
Chattering conversation brought him back down to the present and Harry made himself focus so he could pay attention. He could gawk at his surroundings later and he was sure that the novelty would wear off soon. It was simply the first time he could remember being literally surrounded by beautiful, amazing things in the company of people that did not seem as if they were trying to use him for some purpose or another.
Dahlia was fairly good at keeping order, at least in keeping voices down without having to raise her own and Harry was glad to see her taking charge. He liked having some semblance of order and direction and she was very good at providing that.
"Alright, we're ordering as soon as possible, because I know you lot are going to take forever to finish whatever you order, so please know what you want, by the time I reach you." Dahlia whistled for a waiter and folded up her menu.
Harry's grip on the leather-bound, plastic-paged menu tightened to whitened knuckles. He was lucky that he could understand the basic dragel script within it, but he had absolutely no idea what any of the items were or how they would taste to his decidedly wizarding world-raised palate. He wished it was simpler, just fruit and meats without sauces and spices and side dishes.
"Hey Wik, want to split something?" Ariki leaned back to speak behind Harry's hunched form. "The sauced ribs with-"
"Sauced, no!" Wikhn shuddered. "I want some ghardan meat, rare and bloody if at all possible."
"For you, they'll bend over backwards," Mimei snarked. She studiously hid her face behind the propped up menu to avoid the dark fae's withering glare. "I'm only stating the facts."
"State them where your neck is safely out of reach of my hands," Wikhn half-growled. But he keep his pink-eyed glare fixed on his own menu, the weight of Dahlia's pointed stare, keeping him easily under control.
"Rare? I don't know, I mean-" Ariki frowned. He was well used to the interplay between Gheyo King and Queen to the point that he didn't bother to pay attention anymore. If anything was wrong, he knew his sister would speak and both of hers would listen. "I didn't see that in the menu. Is there anything you can eat here?" He knew enough of dark fae that sometimes they required unusual foods and drinks to keep their body at optimum function.
"It wouldn't be there. Not for you, for me. They'll have it if I ask." Wikhn folded the menu and set it aside. "We can split appetizers." He turned to Harry, sharp-gaze zeroing in on the clenched fingers. "I can split with you too, Harry, if you like." He did not flinch when two bright emerald eyes fixed on him, swimming with confusion, misery and frustration. "Is something the matter?" Wikhn blinked in surprise when in the same instant, all emotion in those eyes dulled as the gaze became purposefully blank. His brow furrowed.
Ariki stared at the two of them for a moment and then brightened. "Is this your first time eating out?" He gestured to the private café. "In Nevarah, I mean, not for-" a faint blush tickled his cheeks.
Wikhn rolled his eyes and reached over, plucking the menu from Harry's hands with enough force that the brunet had to relinquish it. "You should have said so then," he grumbled. "We can order one of everything so you can try it, that way you'll always know what everything is."
"We can do that?" Ariki looked from the menu, to Harry and then across the table to his sister. "Can we?"
"She can afford it," Wikhn muttered, flipping to the back end of the menu. "We can start here. Obviously we can't order everything, you probably couldn't stomach it all at once and even if you could, I wouldn't recommend it." He wrinkled his nose, pink eyes flaring briefly a darker shade of color. "You can order something different for every meal today, at least, if you're traveling 'round with us. I won't complain." He ran his finger down the three column listing in the menu. "Any food allergies?" He waved a hand at Ariki. "Besides your dislike of kemphar and inability to digest curried quinoa?"
"Hey!" Ariki protested. But this time, his blush stayed. "If you don't know," he eyed Harry contemplatively. "Then you probably should avoid some of the spicier dishes or at least take something else with it."
"Yogurt." Dyshoka's soft voice drew their attention. The trio looked up to find the Indian beauty watching them, her lips pursed as if to suppress laughter. "There is a dish in my culture, Raita. It would help with whatever it is you are thinking of not eating." Green-gold eyes glittered in the soft glow of the café lighting. "I would be willing to offer up my stomach for the sake of a good cause. Order whatever you'd like. I will find something in all of it."
Harry found himself staring at her smile, surprised to discover that it was almost exactly like Quinn's. That was odd. Harry blinked, feeling as if he'd missed a connection somewhere. He had first wondered if he ought to say something about the way they'd simply arranged themselves around him, but then figured that it didn't matter, because the protests that he wasn't worth the disruption of their routine was drowned in the reality that they didn't actually mind.
Not a single one of them.
They'd comfortably situated themselves around him and now made sure that even his first public outing was something memorable and not a frightening new experience. His hands clenched and unclenched in his dress robes beneath the table, hidden from view.
He was equal parts pleased, surprised, confused and hopeful. His emotions swirled wildly around him, until he mentally drew them near, tightening his grip on the expressive magic and keeping it close, should he have need of it. All the readings he could puzzle out from those around him were curious, helpful and friendly.
It was enough, for now.
Harry let himself smile as Ariki slapped his shoulder and Wikhn nudged him, the tension bleeding away and elsewhere. He could enjoy this. He definitely could.
By the time Ariki and Wikhn managed to order enough food for all of them, leading to a myriad of new and unusual dishes, with colorful commentary from the girls, Harry was enjoying himself, even if he could only following a few snippets of their conversations. Everyone was talking over everyone else and even though they were a fairly small group, it was enough to make your head spin, unless you were simply enjoying the experience.
For Harry, he'd found it to be something he hadn't even known he was missing.
"You had best be eating all of this," Dahlia grumbled, swiping the bill before anyone else could see it. Her eyebrows arched clear up to her hairline and she slapped it face down on the table, the expression on her face quite comical.
Dyshoka sniggered into her napkin and then leaned over to elbow her lightly. "Oh come now, it can't be that bad. I happen to know exactly how much you have in that mysterious expense account of yours and I know you have this covered and-"
Dahlia snatched up a cream puff and popped it in the Beta's unsuspecting mouth. "Not another word out of you," She warned. "We are even now."
"We are?" Dyshoka chewed carefully and swallowed. "Are we?" Her green-gold eyes shimmered with mischief. "But Dahlia, you started it, love. I never would have—ow!" she trailed off with an abrupt squeak, jerking away from Dahlia with a look of pure shock on her face. "Dahlia?"
Mimei burst into laughter. "Ouch?" She supplied, with a wink. "I don't want to know and neither do the rest of us, hey, Harry, try this one." She pushed another full dish around the moving serving circle that rotated all the available dishes. "Ariki, make sure he tries this one."
Harry opened his mouth to protest, only for Wikhn to helpfully stuff it with a bite of something that vaguely tasted of potatoes and pepper. He chewed and coughed, waving a hand, grateful for Ariki's quick hand with a glass of chilled fruit juice. "I'm full!" He protested, even as he felt himself smiling.
This brand of friendship was strangely wonderful. Wikhn and Ariki had taken it upon themselves to order the most popular and common dishes of Nevarah, forgoing their favorites, so that Harry would know what to expect in the future. Even Lorelei and Mimei had joined in, once they realized just how little Harry actually knew of Nevarean cusine.
He found himself comfortably stuffed and laughing hard enough for tears to form at the corners of his eyes. This was good. It was special and it was needed. The new tendrils of friendship and camaraderie felt like a balm on the recent stab wounds of from his friendships between Hermione and Ron. While they certainly would never replace each other, Harry was finally able to relax, realizing that they meant him no harm and genuinely sought to include him in their fun. If he'd needed proof, it was certainly here now.
There was just one little thing that niggled in the back of his mind and he was reminded of it in everything that Dyshoka did that reminded him of a certain, teal-eyed, blond, mute healer. He tried not to make it obvious that he was watching her, but there was a hint of knowing in her green-gold gaze and he knew that even if everyone else was fooled, she was not. She had also yet to call him out on it, so he continued to watch until he wasn't sure if he could keep his mouth shut anymore.
"Why do you keep staring at her?" Lorelei asked, a moment later, tipping her head towards Dyshoka. "You act like you've never seen her-"
"You were sleeping when she came over, weren't you?" Soula interrupted. She ignored the look her sister sent her way. "I just realized that. Wow. Alright. Um, I guess we're all just so used to each other that we didn't think anything of it and that's just really weird, isn't it?" She nudged a quiet Shayla who hadn't said any more than a handful of words, since they'd sat down. "Hey, Dahlia!"
Dahlia turned faintly, an inclination that she'd heard, without missing a beat of her conversation with the server who had just come for the bill. "What is it?"
"Harry doesn't know her," Soula nodded at the tall Beta. "How come you didn't introduce her?"
Dahlia blinked, comprehension dawning. "Apologies, how rude of me." She turned to Dyshoka, who simply offered a warm smile.
"I was distracting you. On purpose." She flashed a grin. "I suppose it is late for these, but Harry, was it?" Dyshoka's green-gold eyes fixed on Harry with renewed intensity. Her smile for him was gleaming fangs and curious undisguised interest. "You were sleeping by the time I came over last night."
"Say hi, nicely." Dahlia chuckled. "Harry, this is my dearest friend and steady lover, Dyshoka Kalzik. She is a Beta." The ranking was added as an afterthought. "We've been together for a little over five years, give or take some."
"Kalzik?" Harry repeated, latching on to the name. His mental puzzle clicked together, neatly solved. Now it made sense and suddenly, he had to speak. "You know…Quinn?" He frowned. The tanned beauty was nothing like Quinn's creamy pale skin and wavy blond tresses. Beyond her smile, he couldn't begin to see the relation, but then realized that it was completely illogical to think of it in such terms with Ilsa's children sitting right beside him. They were just as visually different as anyone else and yet they all claimed the same mother.
"He is my darling idiot of a baby brother." Dyshoka's eyes shimmered with mischief. "I taught him how to curl his hair. We are close. You know him from where?"
"Er, the clinic." Harry swallowed, digesting that extra bit of information. The casual way in which it was spoken had him picturing Quinn and his trademark blond waves. The way Dyshoka had so easily said 'idiot' left Harry wondering, because he couldn't think of Quinn as being anything but nice and compassionate with the occasional bout of seriousness thrown in. "When I first arrived, h-he helped me. Quite a bit. Is he—how is he?" His last memory of the helpful healer had left him somewhat worried, even though Quinn had sent them off with instructions to rest and enjoy a long weekend.
"Did he now?" Dyshoka untangled herself from Dahlia leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table, her eyes seeing something that apparently no one else did. "He has helped many, especially during Hunting pre-season. We do not speak of our work at home. Healer-patient privilege." She surveyed him for a moment. "But I do thank you for asking of him. He's had quite a rough week, but he will be fine. We always are. Healing is in our blood."
"Something happened to him?" The words tumbled out before Harry could check them.
Dyshoka blinked. Something that could have been a smirk curled across her lips. "You could say that," she murmured. "but it might be best not to. Allow me to say that the Kalziks are a family of Healers." She tipped her head forward. "It is our clan legacy. We are all healer-born and influenced. We do not escape it. Quinn is quite talented as are the rest of us. We are all unique in our own way." She paused. "Do forgive me for prattling on of such boring things." She turned to Dahlia. "Take me dancing? Somewhere fun so I can work off all of these horrible calories?"
"What calories?" The Gheyo deadpanned. "You only had three pieces of cake." But even as she spoke, Dahlia polished off the fourth slice of cake from where it had been, half-eaten.
"Yes, three utterly deliciously sinful pieces of decadence that will do horrible things to my shapely bum." Dyshoka sighed as she unfolded her tall frame with surprising grace and slid out from their semi-private booth. "Up. Dancing. Me. You. Sometime in the next half an hour, hm?"
"Your bum looks fine to me." Dahlia grumbled, sliding out of the booth and taking the proffered hand. "In fact, I'd say that it's more than-"
"Virgin ears!" Lorelei snapped, pushing past the two. "Honestly, do you have to rub it in?" She grimaced, rubbing her hands over her ears. "I'm not even interested and you're really making me very-"
"Sorry. Can't help it." Dyshoka smirked. "Years will do that to us, I suppose. Dancing?"
Dahlia sighed. "Fine. Which floor?"
"You mean I'm allowed to choose?"
"Floor?" Harry looked to Ariki and Wikhn in question. Ariki slid out from the booth next and held out a hand. Harry took it quickly and then turned to Wikhn. "What floor?"
"The Gheyos have their own places, away from—everyone else." The Dark Fae answered, carefully. He was showing more care than Harry had expected, since he'd taken Ariki's cue on ordering the food "We also have clubs. The kinds of clubs that take names and ranks and connections to even think about wrangling an invitation. The higher the floor, the more exclusive. Dahlia's reputation, well, she's the Gheyo daughter of a heiress holding a blood title." He shrugged. "We've had some wonderful times."
Harry blinked, "clubs?"
"Dancing." Wikhn reminded. "We like to dance."
"We?" Harry looked at himself and then at the other young dragels. He had a sinking feeling he was missing something here.
"Dragels in general." Ariki clarified. "We are fun-loving creatures. We like to throw parties, share stories and more and we, well, we like to dance. Music is part of our culture. A very significant part." He shrugged as if it were perfectly normal.
"I don't dance." Harry swallowed. He really didn't.
Ariki and Wikhn exchanged a look. "You'll be fine," they said, in unison. "Don't worry about it."
Harry gulped. "Now I'm worried," he muttered, allowing them to nudge him forward so they could catch up with the girls. He would have to make sure he could find a nice quiet corner to wait it out.
"Excuse me, miss?" A chubby-faced little boy held up a flower and a note to Dyshoka. His bright blue eyes sparkled with childish innocence and he was barely standing still long enough for her to take the note.
"Thank you, little one." Dyshoka produced an after-meal mint as payment, her fingers curling briefly through the child's soft blond locks. "How is your mother?"
"She's fine." The lad immediately stuffed the candy in his mouth, sucking enthusiastically. "She's over 'dere." He pointed with one flailing arm. "Going now."
Dyshoka's smile softened as she watched him dart off into the crowds and then looked down at the courting favor in her hand, a slight frown forming on her face.
"What is it?" Soula came forward, having left Harry and Shayla together. She'd given up on trying to persuade her sister to take them to an exotic floor. Dahlia could be as stubborn as her mothers when she wanted to be.
"I'm not quite sure," Dyshoka frowned. "Don't touch it!" She immediately held it up high, out of reach of Soula's curious fingers. Her expression shifted from fond exasperation to worry. "Please don't," she amended, a moment later when the younger woman shot her a puzzled look.
"What's wrong with it?"
"More like what couldn't be wrong with it." Dyshoka sighed. She held the flower in her hand it suddenly burst into flame, leaving behind a few ashes, before the wind whisked them away. She folded the accompanying card into a small square and then reached up to unwind her scarf from around her neck. She draped it modestly over her upper half and caught the ends to hold in one hand, bracelets jangling. "I'll be back in a moment," she murmured, a hint of steel in her tone and gaze. "You may leave without me if I am not through by the time they have decided."
Soula frowned, staring as the young woman expertly blended into the passing crowd and disappeared from view. "That can't be good." She muttered, a growing sense of worry registering as Harry came up to stand beside her, Shayla in tow. "Did they decide yet?"
"No." Harry shifted his itchy shoulders, recognizing the urge as his wings wanting to stretch out for some air. "Ariki doesn't think we should be anywhere near-"
"And let me guess, Dahlia doesn't want us anywhere that she might not have the right kind of jurisdiction." Soula rolled her eyes. "I can't believe they argue over this every single time." She sniffed. "Give them a few minutes. She'll argue him around." Her furrowed brow did not ease as she continued to stare in the spot where her sister's lover had disappeared. "Hey Harry?"
The brunet looked at her, expectantly.
"You are Hunting, correct?"
Harry licked his lips. "Yes."
"Were there any special instructions?"
"Special—what?"
"You know. Things you should or shouldn't do or do they really not mind however you chose to handle things?"
"…what kind of things?" Harry asked, cautiously.
"How to handle favors?"
Harry looked to Shayla. He knew without speaking that the girl would automatically say what he wanted to know without having to verbalize it. He had absolutely no idea what Soula was talking about, but he'd come to realize that Shayla was the best sort of translator for Ilsa's youngest daughter. It was easy to see how the two girls could be best friends, even though they were visually as different as could be. Almost like the way he knew Hermione and Luna to be. He shook the thought from his head, waiting, patiently for the answer to his unasked question.
"Favors can come in all shapes and sizes." Shayla shuffled closer to Harry, her cheer muted as it had been from the time she had first joined them. "Sometimes they are tokens of affection or pretty things, you know, a flower, a trinket, a pet." Her brow furrowed. "They are always accompanied by a card, so you know who has sent it and why, if they chose to say why, but it is usually quite obvious that they are courting you and wish for it to be made known. Some Alpha's give their Submissives specific instructions on how to handle them so it doesn't result in political issues for either party. Other ranks are free to handle it however they chose, unless otherwise instructed."
"The four stages?" Harry recalled, thinking back to his first, serious conversation with the Snape Pareya. Terius had patiently explained it to him and now, he was finally beginning to understand the reason behind it. "Part of courting?" His mind vaguely remembered a few tidbits from Binn's dry and boring history lessons. Before he'd been bored by the goblin wars and whatever else, he had actually skimmed through the textbook and there had been some interesting points, talk of the old ways of the wizards and witches—including courting.
"Yeah, something like that." Soula grinned. "I'm allowed to accept, if I'm really interested." She half-scowled. "Daddy is surprisingly more overprotective than Mum."
Shayla gave a snort. "You should be glad," her voice was soft and wispy. "Glad that they at least give you some freedom and not what mine are giving." She smiled, sadly at Harry. "You are lucky to be Bonded already."
Harry opened his mouth to refute that, only to realize that he did think it true. He was quite lucky to have found Theo and Charlie and he liked that. "I suppose." He allowed, after a moment. "If-if you don't mind," he followed Shayla's listless gaze to where Dahlia and Ariki were engaged in a lively conversation over their next destination. "What happened with…?"
"It's complicated, at least, to her." Shayla sighed. She turned back to him, the smile slightly forced. "And I wouldn't really mind your asking, except for the fact that I don't even know what really happened. I was just—I suppose sometimes I forget that my status cannot protect me from everything and sometimes my mouth speaks when it shouldn't-"
An angry half-growl, half-shriek effectively quieted the chattering noise of those present, when the crowds shuffled, parting to show an angry Dyshoka pulling away from a slender man, with a pinched face, draped in gold and official robes.
"I said unhand me, you brute!" Dyshoka snarled, her eyes flashing more gold than green as her lips bared fully grown fangs, her words ending in a hiss. "There is precious little your status could hope to do, if you persist in this."
The rest of the argument dissolved into hisses and growls, the crowds around them, quickly backing away to make room. A few had stepped forward, then back, at a look or gesture from either party.
Harry felt a sudden spike of ice welling up in his gut as he turned in time to meet Dahlia's furious gaze, with Wikhn and Mimei holding onto her arms, bracing as if to keep her from launching herself forward in an untimely manner. "Soula?" He whispered.
"Stay back and look invisible." His fellow submissive hissed. "Do not draw attention to yourself in anyway. This is between them, whatever it is." Her hand fumbled, grabbing one of Harry's and squeezing hard. "You can fly, right? Because if we need to move quickly, I'd suggest flying."
"Haven't tried yet," Harry said, weakly. He tried and failed to loosen her death grip on his hand. "This is bad?"
"…Dahlia!" Dyshoka's voice rang out clearly, as she gave another fruitless jerk against the man's grip on her wrist.
Harry turned in time to see Mimei and Wikhn release their Ace, and watch as scales of black and purple rippled over Dahlia's tanned skin, settling into a very obvious Halfling form as she streaked forward. She came to an abrupt halt, before the arguing pair and her eyes shifted from their natural soft brown hue to a very bright violet—reminiscent of Greta's own look.
"I can't hear." Shayla scowled, leaning forward, only to have Harry grab her backwards. "Hey!" Her protest died at the sharp look that Harry sent her way.
"Shh!" Soula snapped. "Are you insane?" She grabbed onto her friend as well. "We don't want to be anywhere near that."
"They're not interested in us, just in her," Shayla stood on tip-toe, still straining forward. "And I just want to hear what's being said…"
"I call you as witness," Dyshoka growled. Her golden eyes flickered to Dahlia and then to the pompous high noble in front of her. She had never welcomed the wretch's advances and it seemed that he'd decided to take offense in the most public of ways and also by creating a situation that she could not extract herself from, unless he physically continued his advances. Her Healer's Oaths could be both a curse and a blessing at times. She gave a silent prayer that Dahlia had been so close at hand. She hadn't seen this idiot since the last hunting season.
"Lord Belden." Dahlia inclined her head in a formal bow, the movements stiff. "Kindly unhand Healer Kalzik." She'd read the situation exactly as it was and was now squaring her stance in preparation for things to turn ugly.
"You should know better than to involve yourself in a matter between your betters, Gheyo." The man snarled, his shoulders shuddering as his wings rippled just beneath the surface of his skin. "Leave us!"
"I see nothing that must be left alone," Dahlia shot back, her dominant hand rested on the hilt of her dress sword. She could summon her true blade in a heartbeat, if needed. "And I will not ask you again."
"Forced to content yourself with a little girl?" The Lord sighed, his grip on that dark, bejeweled wrist was just tight enough that he would not release her, yet light enough that she could not claim it was an attack. A glint of satisfaction showed in his blue eyes as he watched as Dyshoka gave another useless pull. "I would think that a woman of your caliber would recognize quality before her when it was within reach, but you have lowered your standards, I see."
"Not low enough to invite the scum like you!" Dyshoka hissed. "Even if you crawled on your belly in the pits of hell, it would not be high enough to reach my lowest! Release my hand at once!"
Lord Belden laughed, the sound echoing hollowly in the tentative silence as their fellow dragels had immediately cleared an appropriate space around them, no one daring to interfere. No one, that is, except for the pesky young brat that had dared put up a suit towards the woman he'd already decided was his own. "Come now, Dyshoka. I am a reasonable man and I assure you that I will not hold your dalliance against you for long-"
"I do believe Healer Kalzik asked you to release her," Dahlia shifted her weight. "If you are incapable of doing so, then I will offer assistance."
"You cannot even speak for yourself now?" Amusement colored his tone as Lord Belden gave a dismissive glance to Dahlia's bristling form. "Tell you what, I could settle for a midday tea and an afternoon dinner to settle our differences and-"
"If you cut his hand while my eyes are closed, I am not obligated to restore it to its original position and proper working function," Dhysoka said, icily. Her words were directed to Dahlia and no sooner had she spoken, then her eyes had squeezed shut.
"As you wish it," Dahlia stepped aside. "Wikhn?"
The dark fae strode forward, all shadows and terrible cruelty as he drew his wicked looking sword from the sheath on his back. The black and blood-red blade shimmered in the outdoor light as he came within striking distance and fell into stance without further prompting.
Lord Balden released his grip the moment his blue eyes met Wikhn's pale pink ones, just in time to feel the whistle of the blade carving through the air where his hand had been seconds before. "Why you-!" He began.
Dyshoka had fallen back, caught by Dahlia's capable, strong arm, before the agitated Gheyo forcibly pushed her lover behind her, acting as a living shield. "Don't." She said, simply. "Lest I find myself of a mind to tell my King that he missed his mark." Her violet eyes flashed brightly. "Wikhn doesn't miss."
"How dare you!" Lord Balden hissed in return. "I am not some-"
"I am Dahlia, from the house and training of Lady Paielda, beneath the rank of Captain Garrow, of her royal highness, Princess Dawne. I hail from the legacy of the house of Deveraine, bearing the heiress to the Earthen element, Lady Ilsa Gorgens, who is also my birth mother. I do not make this threat idly, Lord Balden. I do so with full understanding and recognition of what has just occurred. You would do well to excuse yourself and never come between or near us again. I will not repeat myself."
"Dyshoka is a grown woman more than capable of-"
"That is Healer Kalzik to you," Dahlia snapped back. She yanked at the short-sleeve on the left side of her armor and it folded back to show a simple tattoo of two lines and seven small x's in between, contained by a perfect circle. "If you cannot respect her as she is, then kindly do so for what is between us." She reached out with hand and yanked at the dupatta that Dyshoka had looped around her shoulders and bare torso. The gauzy fabric slid away, revealing perfect, tanned skin, as Dahlia caught hold of the scoop-neck collar and gave it a short tug with two fingers.
Dyshoka huffed and pulled away to show off the mark herself. An identical replica of Dahlia's tattoo just above her left breast. It was a courting mark for Intendeds, declaring the two present to be a Gheyo-Beta bonded pair.
Lord Balden paled dramatically, a glimmer of rage lurking beneath the surface. "What—when—how?" He demanded, quivering, hands clenched at his side.
"It has been ten years since I saw you last." Dyshoka calmly fixed her appearance and returned her dupatta to the original way she'd worn it. "And I like you no better now than I did then. Ten years is a long time, Lord Belden." The same was spat with disgust. "I found something better between our last encounter and now. I liked it enough to keep it."
A ripple of murmurs passed through the crowd and after a moment, Lord Belden began to back away, even though the revulsion and irritation was plainly displayed on his face. "You-!" The word was thrown with loathing and distaste.
Dahlia bared her teeth in a loud growl, a possessive arm curled around Dyshoka at her side.
Wikhn calmly sheathed his sword and flexed his fingers, the pleasant smile on his face never reaching his eyes. "Leave before I am asked to escort you and perhaps you will retain what little dignity you believe is yours."
With a baleful glare, Lord Belden hastened away, plowing through the crowd to put some distance between them. He would not transport himself magically and leave a signature that would hint to where he had gone. His stiff posture was abandoned in favor of quick movement, the moment he was out of striking range.
"Did he give you something?" Dahlia released her lover and held out a hand, expectantly. "Give it to me, now."
"I've already burned the flower." Dyshoka said, mildly. But she produced the card and handed it over without further protest, watching curiously as Dahlia inspected it with care. "There is nothing to be-"
"….Lady…Deveraine." A youth with a sour face moved forward from the crowd, a portfolio in hand, a golden house signet clearly pinned on his lapel. "In light of the very public confrontation that you have just engaged in with the esteemed Lord Belden, I must ask you to-"
"I wish to press formal charges of harassment," Dahlia held the card up to the young man's eyes. It burst into purple flames and she dropped it before the fire could touch her fingers. "And a restraining order, if you could manage that as well?"
There was a blink of discomfort and then the young man lifted his chin. "A-as you wish."
"I wish." Dahlia rolled her neck to the side. It cracked, audibly.
"Did you burn your fingers?" Dyshoka drew near. "Let me see your hand." She inspected the hand that was absently presented to her and watched, relaxing as Dahlia detailed the situation to the noble scribe. "Not this one, the other one." The other hand was exchanged without comment and the Indian girl smirked. She unsnapped one of the fat, golden proposal bangles from one bejeweled wrist and calmly fastened it on Dahlia's own.
Dahlia continued securing her formal complaint until the young man finally snapped something at her and stalked off in the crowds, ostensibly in search of Lord Belden. The spectators had already begun to depart as things returned to normal. "He shouldn't give you any more trouble." Dahlia scrubbed a hand through her hair. "You should have filed formal charges against him before," she scowled. "And don't you have brothers? I thought you had at least a brute or two that could knock some sense into these entitled pigs!"
"I have too many," Dyshoka laughed. "And as you are aware, we are a family of Healers. There is not much that I could-"
"Don't give me that," Dahlia snapped. "Oath or not, I am not as dense as you would have me-" the hand she'd begun to wave at her lover was now nearly at eye-level and she found herself staring at the fat, golden bangle. Her expression shifted through several different shades, before settling on one of complete adoration and thinly veiled amusement. She'd staked her claim first—with the tattoos—years ago. Now it seemed that her lover was returning the gesture in a rather romantic way. "Are you serious?"
"I would hardly joke of such things," Dyshoka's eyes narrowed. Flecks of green had already begun to return to them and now, they lightened, dangerously. "Or do you believe that I am-"
"Even as I am?" Dahlia interrupted. "Exactly as I am?"
Dyshoka blinked. "You are—I prefer you exactly as you are." She repeated. "I see nothing wrong with it or you. I was only reminded of just how much I do care for you, perhaps I should have done this sooner if you think to doubt me for it."
Her Gheyo lover merely eyed her for a moment, then stepped forward and caught her in a twirl that ended with a breathless kiss and the murmured exclamation of "Arielle, I do love you."
That little public episode led to Dahlia whisking them out of the public's eye and into the darker, denser Gheyic-section of the hunt. She'd taken them all the way to a tall tower, in the opposite section of where they'd been at the outdoor plaza. In the tall tower of tinted windows and luscious carpet, Dahlia directed them to a guarded lift that would take them upstairs to a club where everything was elegance, shadows and pulsing, rhythmic beats.
Soula, Shayla and Lorelei were all in awe of it, when they realized just how exclusive it was. They in turn explained it to Harry as the fact that Dahlia's legacy and ranking was the sole reason they were allowed inside at all. The company there was polite, though somewhat unnerving when Harry realized that it was Gheyo territory for the very real reason that every individual was Gheyo.
He saw Gheyos of every kind in every shape, form and gender as they moved around each other easily and kept a bit of distance from their little mismatched group. He knew without a doubt that they were respecting Dahlia's wishes or rather, whatever she'd said before showing her proof of admittance to the bouncers at the door. Some of them were quite lovely and exotic, with tattoos and strange hair colors and jewelry dripping from pointed ears and well-toned bodies. Some of them had bright eyes, warm smiles and so many scars that Harry didn't know where to look.
He now understood what Dahlia had meant when she'd grumbled about keeping them safe and how her reputation worked. He could see proof of that in the way that she commanded the room. There were several Gheyos who came up to congratulate her and Dyshoka. There were others who came and spoke to Wikhn and Mimei. There were even more still that came and simply installed themselves around her and they, Ariki told him, were the rest of Dahlia's ranks beneath her command.
Harry didn't bother to remember the names or the faces or anything beyond keeping near to Ariki and sometimes staying near to Wikhn. They were both comfortable and at home in a new place where apparently all they had to do was talk and dance. He felt awkward near their graceful movements and easy camaraderie, when it was quite plain that gender didn't really matter when it came to dancing and that just about everyone knew to dance.
"…are you bored?" Wikhn's velvet voice in his ear made Harry startle.
He turned on the dark fae with the best glare he could muster, even as his nerves settled. He wasn't usually caught off guard, but at the moment, he'd been working on pulling his empathy close—because having it stretch out was giving him a headache—and testing the bonds between Theo and Charlie, to know how his Bonded fared.
Theo was fine, content and animated. Charlie was curious and overjoyed at something or the other. Harry was relieved that they were fine and he was glad to know it. He now found himself directing an elbow in Wikhn's direction, much in the same fashion that Ariki did, before he could catch himself.
Wikhn dodged it with an easy smile that held a hint of shadow and a touch of promise. "You aren't dancing." He circled around to stand in front of Harry, hands held out in apology. "I did not mean to startle you, but you did not appear to be that deep in thought."
"I don't dance." Harry retorted, ignoring the hands. He was only thinking of the few, disastrous times that he had. They were memories he rather wished he could forget. He rather thought that if Theo was asking, perhaps he'd chance it. Maybe. Probably not. His dancing was probably best suited to dim lights and only behind closed doors.
"It's good for you," Wikhn drew closer, wiggling his fingers invitation. "Promise I won't trample your delicate feet."
Harry snorted. "My feet are not-!" He turned away, arms crossed so that he did not have look at those pale hands that reminded him of Theo, yet were so completely different at the same time.
"Come," the word held promise and protection in the same instance.
Harry didn't protest when one of Wikhn's arms circled around his shoulders and drew him towards the dance floor. He didn't unfold his arms, even as he felt himself being gently hugged, Wikhn's pointed chin resting lightly atop his head. He found that his feet, while awkwardly shuffling at first, were now attempting to follow the aimless one-two step of the Gheyo.
Wikhn held him until the song changed over and then he drew back, prying Harry's folded arms open to lace their fingers together. He kept an easy smile on his shadowed face as he playfully 'danced' Harry about, eyes flickering to their feet every so often.
Harry followed the gaze down to their feet, finding it easier to mimic the steps as he did so. He took note of the fact that Wikhn was wearing shiny, high-heeled black boots and moving soundlessly—or at least carefully, Harry was sure—it was hard to tell over the beat of the music.
"Too loud?" Wikhn inquired, drawing him close then stepping back, repeating the step until Harry was able to copy it somewhat. "We can move to that quadrant." He tipped his head towards the far end of the room.
"Don't think it would help," Harry mumbled, tongue poking out between his teeth as he concentrated on stepping forward and stepping back in time to the beat and Wikhn's movements.
"The floor is divided into four, each quadrant has a different level of volume." Wikhn lifted their hands up and then paced back an extra step. "Twirl."
"What?"
"Twirl," the dark fae repeated, patiently. "Like this." He lifted Harry's hand high and twirled under it himself. "Have you really never danced before?"
Harry scowled.
"Dancing is almost like breathing to us," Wikhn murmured, a moment later. He moved them along the edge of the dancing crowd and then prompted Harry to twirl again.
"Why?"
"Ease of movement. Flexibility. Stress relief." Wikhn listed. "Most of our practice sets are set against a rhythm of sorts, it helps in large groups. In and out, twirl." He directed, moving easily around Harry. "Use your hips and shoulders. Stop thinking about it."
Harry squeezed his hands in protest, a little harder than necessary. "How should I stop thinking?"
There was an amused huff from above and then Wikhn twirled him in close, Harry's back to his chest, their arms overlapping. "Close your eyes and listen to the music."
Harry listened. He heard the unfamiliar tune, now growing on him, a steady beat, a secondary beat, a base rhythm that was easy to follow, if you were looking for it. He realized that the slow shuffle Wikhn was keeping them in, wasn't really out of sync with the other dancers on the floor and he was doubly grateful for the fact that the lack of lighting meant that any blushing wouldn't be visible.
Wikhn was all tall and lean muscle in a way that Charlie was not. There was definite strength in him and it was more than obvious in every single move he made. Harry could feel that broad chest, slender hips and talented legs as they moved together, the noises of everyone else, fading away.
The steady thump of Wikhn's heart added a second layer to Harry's shifting consciousness. He felt his empathy uncurling and stretching out to touch the dark fae, to seek out something, anything—Harry didn't know what. He felt himself respond by instinct and the sway of Wikhn's deliciously purposeful magic.
Wikhn shifted them, twirling him away and back, one arm resting snugly around Harry's waist, holding him close, both of them now chest to chest. Harry found his hands feeling their way up to rest atop Wikhn's shoulders, fisting in the give of the fabric there, not quite enough to hold, but enough to scrabble with. The Gheyo was just tall enough for him to embrace, comfortably, without having to stretch too far.
Harry felt his magic hum and ripple, stretching out and away from their private movement as Wikhn's second hand finally settled a little higher up, possessive, almost in the way that the Gheyo's scarred fingers curled at the nape of his neck. Harry stretched up on tip-toe, then settled down, leaning closer to breathe in the scent of metal and winter-wind, so he could commit it to memory.
A/N: Apologies for the long delay, my dear readers. I have had most of this chapter all written, but RL is still snowballing me, so things have been quite crazy the past few weeks, even though I've finally been able to function without the stress of Uni hanging over me. A very warm welcome to the new readers and lurkers. I appreciate your support of this fic.
I hope you enjoyed some of the Dahlia/Dyshoka bit, they sort of grew on me and got a bit out of hand. I apologize if not much happens in this chapter. I've got things slated for Harry meeting up with Theo and Charlie next, the formal introductions, either meeting Alec or Blaise, then the Royals introduction and the end of the first day. *tears at hair* Ay yi yi. It's a lot of details to work out. I'm sorry I can't write faster. I know this chapter probably feels like it's dragging, but things WILL pick up, I promise. :)
New chapter for the Snape Side Story fic is up.
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~Scion