The Girl
"Hello," a sinfully smooth voice said almost in her ear. The woman being addressed looked up as he walked around her in the crowded ballroom, startled. He was every definition of temptation she'd ever seen or heard of. His erect posture and precise movements suggested royalty. His skin carried the same honey-golden tones as her own. He was gorgeously muscled, like the great hunting cats of his native planet. Oh, she knew exactly where he was from; the boneblades on both of his forearms gave him away. Her hands itched to run over his lean perfection, smoothing her relatively small hands through his waist-length locks and tracing his wicked smile around his perfectly shaped goatee. His straight, proud facial features were an artist's dream, even down to his intense deep brown eyes. Everything about him radiated strength and power. Here before her stood a sculpted god; whether or not he was a benevolent one remained to be seen.
Finally realizing that she was staring, had in fact been staring for a long time, the servant looked away, blushing at the deep chuckle that radiated out of him. And 'radiate' was the right word for it. Much like his presence, his voice welled up out of him like a wellspring, seeming to leave a residue of chocolate goodness on the very air as he spoke. Gods above, what a man!
"H-hello," she said finally, making sure that her glamor was firmly in place. To curious eyes, she should present as an overweight young woman, dressed tastefully in a dark purple ball gown but with self-conscious attention to her obesity. Considering that she was in the middle of a ballroom at a ball that was being held to celebrate the new, warmer relationship between Nylexia and Imladris, she was definitely dressed appropriately. No, she just had to wonder why this singularly handsome male was bothering to speak to her. There was plenty of royalty and nobility to converse with if he wished it. "Why had he singled her out for conversation?"
"You seem like a good conversationalist," the man answered her unconscious question, his smile widening when she clapped her hands over her mouth in mortification. He wanted nothing more than to laugh again at her body's honest reaction to him, but he didn't wish to embarrass her into leaving, so he settled on forging ahead with the conversation. "It's terribly dull at these functions; I find myself in need of a verbal sparring partner that will not bore me with her lineage and bloodlines and blah, blah, blah." He smiled beguilingly at his target. Now that he'd identified her as the owner of that heavenly scent that had called to his gentler nature - a heady mixture of lilacs and warm summer nights that had him practically drooling - he had no intention of letting her get away. Nylexons were paired to their mates by scent after all, and this scent identified her as his.
"Servants aren't meant to converse with the gentry," she said quietly, preparing to slip away back into the crowd. She needed to find the princess. It was a very necessary priority in case someone asked her to perform as a Khaleesi. As far as the kingdom was concerned, their beautiful Princess Camille, eldest daughter of King Jonathan and Queen Lillian, was a full-blown Khaleesi, an enchanted woman whose voice brought healing in its wake. No one outside of the castle witnessed her temper tantrums, her cruelty that made the servants question her Khaleesi status. To the world of Imladris, she was kind and gentle, with a sweet soothing soprano voice that stopped pestilence and cured all manner of ailments.
But there was a reason for the confusion. Queen Lillian had commanded that Daivya never reveal her Khaleesi status to anyone. Daivya's birth mother had died in childbirth and her father had died gloriously on the battlefield, protecting the king. The child was only kept around for her extraordinary talent. They'd been raised as princess and handmaid, despite the fact that Daivya's talent should have made her a lady in her own right. Little Diva was the one handmaid Camille had never been allowed to replace to the spoiled child's annoyance and it took until her first performance at age fifteen to get her to understand. Now she took advantage of her servant, claiming her power for her own with Lillian's permission. As far as Jonathan knew, his little girl was a strategist of world renown. Daivya carried the power and insight inside of her, though. What the people experienced was a pale imitation of what the twenty-one-year-old would have been capable of if she'd been allowed to cultivate her gift. The one time the queen had caught her singing, she'd had the poor, timid girl beaten within an inch of her life. The hatred that the queen bore the little orphan was a mystery to everyone, including her husband. It only added to the confusion of everyone why the queen refused to allow another servant to attend her precious daughter.
"May I know the name of the young lady who will be entertaining me tonight with her rapier wit?" Tyr Anasazi asked charmingly.
"No. I mean, I'm not- I can't- I mean, excuse me, your highness. I must go and find my lady." She left without another word to the sinfully attractive man, slipping into the crowd. Gods above, she hated crowds. But her life as a handmaid meant that she must endure them. She'd learned how to navigate them expertly, however; it was a survival skill when one had to be able to prop up a fake Khaleesi at a moment's notice. As she reached Camille's side, the worst thing possible happened. The handsome stranger who had taken an interest in her saddled up beside the man her Lady was talking to.
"Is everything alright, your highness?" he asked the man Diva recognized as the lord of Nylexia's son. She froze in the midst of saying the same thing to her lady. If Camille needed rescuing or to use her powers, surely she would have said something, right?
"I'm fine, Tyr," Prince Adam said easily. "My lady was just entertaining me with tales of the summers here in Imladris. They are quite a bit milder than we're used to back home, I think."
"And who might this be?" Camille said coyly, eyeing the gorgeous man around her fan. Daivya couldn't blame her; this 'Tyr' person was the most attractive man she had ever seen in her young life. And thanks to Imladris' popularity on the intergalactic scene, Little Diva had been exposed to some of the most attractive people in the known worlds.
"This is my bodyguard and manservant, Tyr Anasazi. He's quite literally the deadliest person you will ever meet."
"How thrilling," the spoiled woman tittered, still appraising the man as if she was in the market to buy. "Though I must say that if his fighting skills are as good as his looks-"
"Better," Tyr put in quickly, his eyes never leaving his true quarry. Diva gulped, knowing instinctively that it was true. One thing that Queen Lillian couldn't stop her from honing was her evaluation of people. Prince Adam was neither bragging nor exaggerating. He'd stated fact, plain and simple. Not that her idiot mistress would realize that.
Camille looked over at her and sighed, bored already. "This girl is no threat, Mr. Anasazi. She's my handmaiden, Daivya."
"Have you mislaid her surname, lady?" Tyr asked sharply. Camille, not used to being questioned about something as insignificant as her servant, shrugged.
"She doesn't have one as far as I know."
"Does the lady have a last name? " Tyr persisted, asking the girl herself.
"Adders," Diva whispered as if it was forbidden. Tyr stepped through the talking couple and straight up to her, pushing one of her knee-length braids behind her ear.
"A strong name," he told her, looking deep into her eyes. "It suits you." By now the poor woman was blushing to the roots of her reddish-brown hair. There were red undertones to her brown skin.
"Um, did I just miss something?" the princess asked, starting to get annoyed as the conversation was tending towards her fat servant instead of her.
"No," the Nylexon said, still staring into Diva's beautiful, brown eyes. Adam cleared his throat loudly and asked the princess a question about herself. Camille answered eagerly, happy to have things going her way again.
"You left before we could have our conversation."
"I-I have to stay close to my lady," Diva said stubbornly. She tried to pull her eyes away from the man's, but now that he had her gaze, he wasn't about to lose it. Her chest was heaving as if she was running a marathon and she was starting to tear up in embarrassment. Only when she looked close to fainting did he release her.
"Did you require some refreshment, lady?" Diva asked desperately, not caring that she had rudely cut off Adam's explanation of his homeland. All three young people blinked at the abrupt question, Camille finally looking her servant over. She looked scared, blatantly scared, not a usual expression on the girl's face. Her body language was screaming that she wanted to be gone. In a rare display of empathy, Camille decided to have mercy on her servant.
"Yes, fine, Diva. Go and get me some sparkling water from the kitchen. Have Jacque make it for me; he knows how I like it. And hurry back; now that I think about it, I am quite thirsty all of a sudden." She turned back to Prince Adam with an appealing smile. "Now, you were saying?"
Adam, who had been staring at his manservant worriedly, jerked his attention back to the spoiled princess and smiled amicably. He continued where he'd left off his explanation of the Rogospian Mountains. Diva slipped away silently, without a look at anyone. Tyr watched her go with a deadly look on his face, one that would have alarmed Camille herself if she'd bothered to look. So, Little Daivya thought that she could rile up a Nylexon and then just walk away? Using his assassination skills, he shadowed her to the kitchens, only to stop in shock when she all but collapsed against the door once she was out of sight, sobbing brokenly. It distressed him to see his mate in such misery. It upset him more to know that if he went to her right now, it would only make her more miserable. So, the girl wasn't playing games with him. She was genuinely that naive in the ways of men. Well, he had a month to open her eyes to the reality of their connection. He spirited his way back to the party, not wanting to upset her more. When she returned with the sparkling water, there was a tangible stink of fear in her scent that grieved him. She bravely stayed near her lady all evening though, despite his presence. He had to give her points for her bravery in the face of such terror.
"Ah, there's my little girl," King Jonathan greeted his daughter lovingly. The two embraced.
"Oh, Daddy! Adam here was just telling me all about his home planet. It's so different from Imladris!"
"That it is, darling," he nodded, looking around for her handmaiden. It always amazed him how small and unobtrusive she could make herself, even standing right next to him. "How are you enjoying the party, Daivya?"
She actually jumped at being addressed. Her nervousness always surprised him. But maybe it was the fact that his wife was never far from him that made her so afraid.
"The Lady appears to be enjoying herself, Your majesty," Diva said with abject humility, bowing low. Jonathan sighed heavily and approached the timid girl, noting that she looked like she'd be happy if the earth opened up and swallowed her.
"I didn't ask how my daughter was enjoying the party, Daivya. I asked you. Are you enjoying yourself?"
"His Excellence is gracious to inquire after the welfare of one so low," she muttered, still looking desperate for escape.
"Daivya…"
"Who cares about her, Johnny? It's good for a servant to know her place," his wife's voice interrupted his interrogation. He sighed again. He would never understand his wife's hatred of the girl. Maybe that was why he always strived to make the girl welcome in his home. His efforts were for nothing though; no matter what the man said or did for the servant, she always reacted as if she were seconds away from a death sentence from him. Wishing not to make a scene, he waved away the orphan child and engaged his wife in a conversation that involved all the royals in the immediate area. When he looked around, she'd disappeared, having melted into the crowd. But should he request her presence again, he knew that she would appear at his elbow, bowing low and utterly respectful. He'd swear that the child was part ninja.
"You never answered his question, you know," Tyr said matter-of-factly from where he'd all but appeared next to Diva on the periphery of the room where she was watching her lady's surroundings for signs of threat. She jumped and yelped, backing away from him and he sighed and grabbed her arm before she could get away. She started trembling and he sighed heavily in a move very similar to the King of Imladris'. "I'm not going to hurt you, Daivya."
"You're dangerous," she whispered, shaking more and subtly trying to free herself from his grasp. He held her in a grip of iron that somehow wasn't hurting her, which somehow terrified her more. It took precision and control to establish a hold like the one that he was using on her.
"Yes, I am dangerous," he admitted with a shrug. "But I'm not dangerous to you. I'm just curious about you. You move like a shadow, but you tremble like a mouse. And you ran away from our conversation earlier like the hounds of Hades were on your tail. Are you having fun tonight?"
"If you're not dangerous to me, then let me go."
"Never," he said. His smile had too many teeth in it. "Answer the question, Daivya. It's a simple enough one."
"My Lord-"
"Tyr. I'm a servant, just like you. Now answer the question. Please?" he asked nicely, trying to be polite to get through her fear. She stared at him in disbelief, then her shoulders slumped in defeat.
"No. I never enjoy these functions. Too many people, too much danger. These are the places where the plotters of the upper crust gather to plan the downfall of others. It… It hurts to know so much and be forced to keep silent." She covered her mouth with her free hand, staring at him as if she couldn't believe that she'd confided in him even that much. The boy was grinning in triumph at her admission.
"Thank you," he said sweetly, kissing her hand.
"Y-you know magic words?"
"Magic words?"
"'Please' and 'thank you' are the magic words. They get things done."
"I suppose they do, now that I think about it," he admitted with a chuckle. "I knew that you were an able conversationalist." She blushed, still trying to free herself from his grip. He did not allow it, making a shiver of fear run down her spine. "You must be a hit with the other servants," he said to distract her from her fear.
"Her Majesty does not approve of me conversing with the other servants," Diva said quietly. Tyr's heart broke for the world of loneliness in that one small statement.
"Then I must say that your conversational skills are noteworthy given your lack of practice," he said idly. "It's not that way back in Nylexia."
"I'm sure you are very popular and sought out for conversation, my lord-"
"You keep trying to flatter me by putting me above my station, Daivya. I wonder why that is."
"Everyone is above my station," she whispered dully. He blinked and his eyes filled with compassion, but he chose not to answer.
"As to your statement, I am not usually interested in talking. My duties and my gym consume me. You've accomplished an impossible feat this night, dear lady."
"I'm not a-"
"You conduct yourself with honor and gentle the beast in me, Daivya. That makes you a lady in my humble opinion. I have to wonder what else you are capable of, little one."
"I'm just a servant," she insisted stubbornly, blushing at the high praise.
"You know what else I'm good at?" he asked quietly. She gulped, her sharp eyes picking up a man moving towards the princess and her family with oily intentions. She went to intervene and Tyr pulled her back to him.
"Let me go! I have to do my duty," she growled at him.
"Fishing," Tyr said with a smile. At her confused look, he pulled her forward with him into the swirling crowd of royalty and nobility, weaving towards the man that was fast approaching her lady. Diva would have tried to talk the assassin down; she was very, very good at that. Tyr simply approached the man, broke his arm, and took the dagger from his limp hand. All of this happened in the space of her gasp. The man barely had time to realize that his plan had failed and Tyr never unhanded his captive through the whole process. Lillian turned and noticed her with a curl of her lip. Jonathan, seeing his wife's face, turned as well. Unlike his wife, however, he saw the failed assassination attempt. A nod of his head and two of the royal guards all but materialized next to him to take the assassin into custody.
"You have my thanks - Lattimore was it? You protected those dearest to me."
"My pleasure, your highness," he said smoothly. "The lady noticed the danger and alerted me to the situation," Jonathan smirked, noticing that his daughter's handmaiden still looked desperate to be elsewhere. He recognized the hold Tyr had her in. She was still trying to escape it without making a scene. Lillian herself looked ready to make a scene herself, no doubt about the attachment of a title to the servant. He laid a hand on her arm to stop her, more interested in his intentions towards the girl than watching his wife pick on a girl that couldn't defend herself.
"Good job," a booming deep voice sounded out behind the two. A large hand clamped onto Tyr's shoulder and Diva cringed, still twisting to be free. She was starting to shake again Tyr noticed with a frown. "I could have done better, of course, but I understand when you had a hostage to think about."
"King Barbarossa," Jonathan smiled. "I was just commending the quality of your son's bodyguard. He disarmed that assassin one-handed and without breaking a sweat."
"Assassins are more skilled in our land."
"He wasn't trained. He was desperate," Diva muttered almost against her will. She yanked on her arm, but Tyr's hold on her held. "Let me go," she whimpered.
"Desperate for what?" Jonathan asked, used to hearing these kinds of insights from his daughter.
"Tyr, release the girl. Can't you see that you're scaring her?" the Nylexon monarch told the bodyguard evenly. Tyr looked defiant, but the man simply stared him down until his grip on her loosened. Having gained her freedom, the girl backed away from him, rubbing her arm where he'd been holding it and looking ready to vanish into the crowd again.
"Daivya. 'Desperate for what?" the Imladris king asked again before she could disappear on him. The girl cringed at the look on his wife's face and focused her attention on the floor.
"T-to hurt someone," she explained vaguely to the floor.
"That is usually the goal of an assassin," the man said kindly
"Of course, Your Majesty," she said dully, backing away from the group.
"Stay close, Daivya. I may want your opinion again later," Jonathan said, smiling at the twenty-one-year-old's discomfort. She took her place behind the princess and the conversation continued. Tyr joined in where appropriate but didn't try to force his terrified mate into the conversation. She was still trembling and still holding her arm where he'd been restraining her. So, she really was afraid of him. He would have to try a different approach. The new moon was approaching, he was eager to claim his bride now that he'd found her, but he needed that stink of fear gone first. Damnit!
"You're growling," Lillian pointed out after once the growling became uncomfortable for the queen.
"I was just thinking of how I would get information out of that assassin if given the chance," the Nylexon said pointedly. "Where I'm from, attempts on a royal's life are met with swift, brutal justice."
"Ah, well," Lillian said awkwardly. "I'm sure that our guards are making sure his stay in our dungeon is most unpleasant."
"Of course, majesty," Tyr said calmly. "Please excuse me." He left the circle of royalty before anyone could excuse him. Jonathan noticed that the handmaiden's trembling decreased significantly with his departure. He didn't bother to say anything though, not wanting to embarrass the girl.
"Your son is a strapping specimen," Queen Lillian told Barbarossa a few hours of conversation later. "He's intelligent and witty, and quite attractive."
"Thank you," the Monarch accepted the compliment graciously. "The same can be said of your lovely daughter, though her trembling... Is your intent to flatter me, Lady?"
"Just making conversation," the woman demurred, she changed the subject quickly, suddenly uncomfortable with the course of the conversation. She'd meant to propose an alliance between their two lands, but it had almost sounded as if he knew what she'd done. But that was impossible.
The night passed slowly for the handmaiden who was not allowed to partake in the conversation or leave.
[End Chapter One]
This is a little alternate reality that I cooked up one day. Thought I'd post it as it's just sitting on my hard drive, taking up space. We have the introduction of the original character, who is being actively pursued by Tyr. It should be interesting to see where this is going. See you in a week!
Please review ^_^
