Thank you, everyone, for your kind reviews!
Dear Uncle
Varasach dreamt she stood in a sprawling, colorful field. In all directions, she could see nothing but flowers. Pink, blue, yellow, and orange spots on a flat plain of green that rippled in the breeze. Cool grass tickled her bare feet as she ran- ran, with legs that carried her without tiring!- through the field.
But an uneasy feeling lay deep in the back of her mind, tainting her elation. The air smelled faintly of blood. Flowers bobbed up and down too fast, trembling gaily as though they were-
laughing.
She'd been here before.
Varasach ran faster, that distant uneasiness rapidly swelling into fierce panic. Her heart pounded with a vengeance, trying to rise up her throat.
Just keep running, Varasach told herself, gulping too-warm air into burning lungs. Just keep running- just keep running. If she didn't stop- if she didn't collapse- maybe this time her heart would remain inside of her chest. Maybe this time she wouldn't be forced to look upon her dying child, forced to hold him, helpless as his lifeblood drained through her fingers…
Where are you? Though she spoke with no audible voice, she knew that the wind carried her words to the far corners of the field. She knew that whatever she was looking for would hear her cry, would come to her rescue.
She coughed, and her heart surged further up her throat.
Princess, the flowers tittered with small voices. Faceless, they sneered as she sped by, trembling hands covering her bleeding mouth. Princess, where are you going?
If she could just get away to a place where she was not so exposed. If she could just escape these terrible flowers, colored so boldly against the green field.
If she could just find what she was looking for!
Princess! Oh, Princess… Why are you hurting him?
I didn't know! Varasach wanted to cry out, but could not with her heart pounding against her teeth. I didn't realize how it would hurt us both! I didn't know…
But she had known, deep down, even if the full gravity of her wrongness hadn't hit her until after she held the bloodied unborn child in her hands.
Varasach's legs turned to lead- she couldn't run any further. She looked down and saw a red flower bush snaking thorny tendrils around her ankles. But the more she struggled against their grip, the stronger they held her. The bush's laughter rang loud and clear.
I've got you, it said cheerfully. I've got you, Princess!
Varasach cried out, clawing at the thorns with her bare hands, and her heart fell from her mouth. Like a whip, a thorny vine snapped out, encircling it, pulling it from her reach.
"No!" Varasach lunged forward with all her strength-
The bush drew back suddenly, releasing her legs, and vanished with her heart still firmly in its grip. An instant later, the field itself disappeared, and-
She plummeted into the void.
Varasach jolted upright in her bed, clapping hands over both her mouth and her hammering breast.
What-!
Violent, raw, untamable terror coursed through her blood, simultaneously heating and chilling her skin. Her chest swelled with throbbing, pounding pain; her heartbeat echoed deafeningly in her ears.
So, her heart was still here! It hadn't been taken by…by…
A dream, she thought, and wiped moisture from her face. She held her hand up to the faint light of her fireplace and blinked in surprise when she saw that sweat, not blood, shined on her fiercely trembling fingers. It was a dream?
How could a dream, so unreal, produce such a consuming and terrible fear? In that moment she was certain that no emotion- not love, not rage, not joy- could ever feel felt quite as real as this horrible feeling which greeted her each time she slept.
"My lady," said a masculine voice, and she looked about the room with terror which gripped her like the thorns of that red flower bush.
"My lady, are you all right?" A man rushed out of the shadows toward her, and she shrieked, leaping from the bed, hands outstretched to ward him away.
"Hed'democh!" she cried, and only after repeating herself several times did she realize she was speaking in a language the man- the Guard, it was a Guard, not a stone warrior!- did not understand. "G-get away! Get away, get away! Get away!"
The Guard skirted the bed and came toward her, palms raised disarmingly. "It's all right," he said, speaking over her cries. "It's all right! Don't be afraid! Are you hurt? Should I- Hosts!"
Varasach, in her blind panic, fell backwards over a large, hard object and tumbled across the floor. Sparing no thought for pain, she leaped back to her feet. "Get away," she sobbed. "Don't- don't touch me!"
"Jaesi, you fool, would you give the Princess a moment to breathe?"
Varasach froze, turning her head to the familiar voice.
A silhouette stood in the open doorway, arms crossed in a gesture that clearly conveyed his annoyance at the Guard Jaesi.
"Are you all right, Princess?" the silhouette asked, and stepped into the light.
Varasach stood erect, startled, as she stared into those soft, familiar yellow eyes. Those eyes, which seemed to illuminate her soul, bringing light to the farthest corners, chasing away her fears. Those eyes, so soft and understanding, and ohhh, how she longed for him to take her into his arms, to hold her so close that these nightmares were unable to haunt her, as he had so many times before. Tears spilled down her cheeks.
"Princess," Kyle cut her off as she opened her mouth to say his name, bowing stiffly. When he straightened, he leveled her a pointed look. "Pardon my intrusion. I'm Kyle, one of the Guards the High General assigned to outside your door. I heard a noise. Is everything all right?"
Varasach stared in confusion. Why was he introducing himself to her? She knew who he was! "I…" she began, but could not finish. Her trembling returned.
"She seems to be okay now," Kyle said- but no, she was not okay! Surely Kyle, of all people, would know that! "Jaesi, would you summon her servant?"
Jaesi hesitated a moment, but did as he was told, casting an odd look in Varasach's direction before leaving.
"Princess," Kyle said, and crossed the room. "Are you hurt?"
Why was Kyle acting this way? Varasach burst into tears.
"Ah- Here, Princess, let me help you to bed..." Kyle gently took her arm and steered her around a chair- that must be what she'd fallen over.
"Don't say anything," he murmured close to her ear. "I'm sorry, Vara, but I can't reveal that we know each other." As he said this he turned her shoulder slightly, and for the first time she noticed a third Guard watching, silent, next to the fireplace. The way he regarded her, dark eyes hidden under a heavy, shadowed brow, send a shiver down her spine.
"Don't trust these people," Kyle whispered quickly. "I think they're working for whoever's trying to kill you."
"What?"
"It's okay! They won't hurt you. Not yet, at least. Listen to me! Don't trust anyone. Not your servant, not the Guards, not even the High General." They reached the bed, and he released her arm after one last word: "I'm gonna get to the bottom of this. Just stay alert, okay?"
Kyle nodded to the Guard by the fireplace, then returned to his post outside the door without a backward glance. Vara watched him go with fresh tears in her eyes, mind reeling as she tried to process everything that had happened.
Kyle is here.
She had suspected he was here when she saw someone like him wink at her in the dimly-lit dungeon before Zak's trial. And she had seen a raven similar to his Bird, Jema, flying outside her window several times. But as the days passed without any word from him, she had begun to wonder if it was only a fool's hope- if she was only seeing what she wanted to see.
But no, he was here, watching her, protecting her in secret! That explained so much…
Varasach crawled back into her bed, back turned to the skulking Guard so he would not see that her fresh tears were of relief, and not of fear from the vestiges of her nightmare.
Within minutes of Lou's arrival in the foyer of the King's Keep, Garmadon appeared. Hair disheveled, face aged beyond his fifty winters, he stared at Lou from the bottom of the stairs.
Lou raised his teacup- handed to him a moment earlier by one of the several servants flocking around him- in greeting. "Uncle."
"…Lou." Garmadon stammered, approaching his visitor cautiously. "What…what are you doing here? Where have you been?"
"In the bowels of the Fallen Kingdom," Lou answered, not untruthfully, waving servants away from his couch. "But where I have been is not important. What matters is, I accept."
Garmadon blinked. "What?"
"I accept your request," Lou repeated, loud enough for all the nearby Guards and servants to hear.
"But I didn't-"
"I know, dear Uncle. You didn't expect me so soon. Fortunately, I was already on my way into town when you sent me that letter: at times like these, one can never offer too many prayers at the Temple." He firmly maintained eye contact with the King as he took another sip of his tea. Behind his politely surprised front, Garmadon was seething. Lou lowered his drink and smiled.
Predictably, Garmadon backed down from the challenge. "You…must be tired after your journey," he said. "I'll show you to your room."
"That sounds wonderful," Lou said, and set his half-empty cup on the low table in front of him. He stood and waved to Haja; the Nindroid bodyguard waited to the side, head bowed. He played the part of an attendant very well. "Lead the way, dear Uncle."
Fist clenched at his side, Garmadon turned and strode back toward the stairs leading to the second level. Lou did not miss how his other hand rested on the decorated sword at his belt.
Murmurs filled the room as Lou and Haja followed the King. The many observers knew, of course, the implications of this exchange: the long-lost son of Prince Wu, and grandson of the former King Azai, had just reentered the political scene. Supposedly at Garmadon's own request. This news would spread like wildfire.
The walk up the stairs and down the carpeted hall proved to be a brisk one: Garmadon clearly wanted to get Lou away from the eyes of his household before any more damage could be done. Lou offered a small, satisfied smile whenever the King glanced back at him.
Beside Lou, Haja simply looked bewildered. The bodyguard had not expected their entrance to be so forward and brash.
"I've heard about your daughter," Lou said as Garmadon opened the door to one of the guest rooms. The three entered. "I'm curious. Was she conceived before, or after, you knew about Lloyd?"
Garmadon had hardly shut the door before he grabbed Lou by the collar and shoved him against the wall. Lou wheezed at the sudden pressure on his throat. Haja drew a knife from a hidden sheath in his vest, but Lou motioned for him to stand down.
"What in Mena's name do you think you're doing?" Garmadon snarled. "I didn't send a letter. You shouldn't be here."
Lou managed another calm smile, knowing it would only rile up the King more. "You need my help."
"I'll throw you in the dungeon."
"Ah, yes. And then you'll execute me quietly alongside all those poor heathens you're always rounding up. Funny how you still have time for that in the midst of a civil war." His smile broadened. "It's ironic. After six hundred winters, you'd think that all the vestiges of old religion would have been wiped out long ago. But instead it's been growing, spreading. They've evolved, Garmadon. They know how to hide, to defend themselves from your cult. And now, with Cyrus Borg and the South's leaders at their head, they're switching to the offense. Massacring the South will only add fuel to their fire. Surely you know that."
"Well, what would you suggest I do instead?" Garmadon demanded. "Let the Retired God-followers have their way?"
"That's certainly an option."
"Moons, Lou! I can't-"
"Let me ask you a question, Garmadon," Lou cut him off. "How many Way-followers do you estimate have been killed since the beginning of this age?"
Garmadon hesitated. The pressure on Lou's throat lessened.
"Thousands upon thousands," Lou said when Garmadon offered him no reply. "But here's the flip side: how many followers of your religion do you estimate have been killed by them?"
The answer, they both knew, was very near zero.
"It really makes one wonder," Lou said softly. "Who's the real enemy?"
Garmadon's arm trembled slightly on Lou's throat. "We…we must kill," he murmured. His voice gained confidence as he spoke. "Six hundred winters of peace, Lou! That cannot be ignored. Our system isn't perfect, I'll grant you that. But if it brings us peace… I will bear the guilt, as long as my people can remain safe." He gestured with his head. "Those Retired God-followers are the ones who started this civil war. Isn't that proof enough that they don't fit in our system?"
"They're the ones who brought this war into the open, yes," Lou agreed. "But they didn't start it. You did. Mena did." A beat. "Overlord did."
The King's hand tightened on Lou's collar. "Blasphemy."
"You know I'm telling the truth," Lou said, inhaling sharply. Garmadon may have aged, but he still had a generous portion of the strength of his youth. "You can feel it in your gut. You know something's wrong. Mena was not who the Priests say."
Garmadon's eyes wavered.
Then, slowly, he released Lou and backed away.
"What are you here for?" he asked softly. "Really."
Lou rubbed his neck ruefully. "I'm here to see what's happening," he said.
"That's a load of bull."
"I'm here to kill you and take the throne for myself."
"Do I look like I enjoy this game, Lou?"
"No. But that's what makes it fun." Lou stepped away from the wall. The carpet of this bedroom was nice; it was a shame that his boots had tracked remnants of melting, muddy snow across it. He pitied whatever slave would have to scrub this floor clean later.
A shiver crawled along his spine at the thought of slaves residing in this place. Yes, they were used much differently in Ninjago than they had been in the West, until Jay took over. But still… So many memories of his time as Overlord's host buffeted his mind like wind in the face of a small bird midflight. The rage, the heat, the smell of sweat and blood and fear.
And oh, how much Overlord had loved it. Craved it. Thrived on it.
Lou had grown better at pushing back these feelings. He did so now, before the terror and shame of it could reach his face, and spoke to Garmadon: "I came here at the behest of my son."
"Coleman?" Garmadon said sharply. "So it is true. I had seen him before, but I did not know for sure… He wants to take the throne from me?"
"No."
This caught Garmadon by surprise. "No?"
"No. He refuses to make himself a piece in this political game. As a matter of fact, he sent me here to take away one of your most valuable pieces."
"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."
"Do I look like I enjoy this game, Garmadon?"
The King huffed.
"What is Vara to you?" Lou asked.
"Right now, though few realize it, she is the hope and savior of the nation," Garmadon said. "If she wasn't here, the Middle Lord Rector's grandson would be my successor."
It was Lou's turn to stand silent. It had not occurred to him until now, but what the King said was true: with Lloyd dead, and Cole refusing to take his place as the next legitimate heir, Vara was the only thing standing between the Priests and total domination. Whatever's happening to Way-believers now will be a walk in the park compared to what will come if the Priests take the crown.
"I think, for the time being, it's in both of our best interests to keep Vara right where she is," Garmadon said.
Lou reluctantly grunted his agreement. "What should we do, then?" he asked.
"The question I've been asking myself every hour of every day," Garmadon sighed, running a hand through his graying blond hair. "I don't want her to be Queen, Lou… You know how the Priests are. I can only hope that she will stand up to them better than I do. But it's such a small hope. When the crown is placed on her head… What if the burden crushes her?"
"Train her, then," Lou said, surprising himself by his own words. I'm sorry, Cole. I said I would get her out. But, if I look to the future of this country, it's either you or her… "Teach her what to do."
Despair darkened Garmadon's face. "I'm no teacher," he said. "Hosts, Lou. She hates me."
"Then let me see what I can do," Lou said. "But talk of succession is a moot point: right now, you are alive and in command. And right now, the army that you command is converging on the South. I want to hear more about that."
"You think I'm going to give you all of my battle plans just because you're family?" Garmadon scoffed. "For all I know, you're working for Borg."
"I am not Borg's spy."
"The South's, then?"
"I am my own ally, Garmadon. I work for no one, and I will be controlled by no one." Never again. That was his vow.
"I'm sure that's what all spies say."
"Don't trust me, then! But you surely realize that you can't just throw me out."
"No." Garmadon's jaw tightened. "Your grand entrance in front of my staff guaranteed you that much."
"And so, in classic familial fashion, you are stuck with me, and I am stuck with you. You have two choices: lock me up in this bedroom, perhaps tell everyone that I fell ill during my journey and need rest. Or you can let me help you."
"I don't need your-" He cut himself off as the door's latch clicked. A girl timidly peeked in, wearing a nightshift. Lou gave a start, taking in her short red hair, round face, and green eyes. The hand that gripped the door was mottled pink. Were those recent burn wounds? Her other hand, hanging loose at her side, was missing three fingers.
The girl saw Lou and hastily shut the door.
"Vara," Garmadon called, rushing to meet her in the hall. "What are you doing, child? It's the middle of the night! Did we wake you?"
She recognized me. Lou pursed his lips before following Garmadon to the door.
"I…heard a noise." Her voice had the distinctive, tremulous timbre of one from the Dark Island. She pointed as Lou exited the bedroom. "What…wh-what is he doing here?"
Garamdon frowned at Lou. "You know each other?"
"No," Lou said at the same time Vara hissed "Yes."
"Vara, I am not he," Lou said gently. "Listen. We can talk about this later. But you should know, I'm here because Cole asked me to come. He wants me to help you."
Vara didn't look convinced. Lou sighed, then reached into his breast pocket. He had known from the start that Vara would neither trust nor cooperate with him. So, while still at Borg's fortress, Cole had penned a letter to Vara for Lou to deliver.
"Here," Lou said, handing the envelope to her. "It's from Cole."
She reached for it tentatively, afraid to get too close to him, and broke its wax seal.
"I can't read," she said.
"Give it to someone you trust, then. Ask them to read it to you."
Vara still looked skeptical. But she nodded, tucking the slip of paper back into its envelope. "How much time is left, Garmadon?" Her tone was sharp.
Garmadon's eyes hardened. Lou sensed a palpable tension between the two.
The King turned away without a word to her. "Well…there's your room, Lou. Try not to cause too much trouble, would you?"
"Uncle, you insult me! When have you ever known me to cause trouble?"
Garmadon eyed him, unamused. One hand gripping his other wrist behind his back, he retreated into his study down the hall.
Lou and Vara regarded each other. She glanced over her shoulder nervously.
"I'll let Cole's letter do the talking," Lou said. He went back into his bedroom and shut the door.
"What was that?" Haja demanded.
Lou took a seat on the edge of the bed and folded his hands, resting his chin on his thumbs.
"Sir, you've been very quiet about your plans this whole trip," Haja pressed. "I don't think I can protect you if I don't know what's going on."
"You haven't known anything," Lou said, "because I knew next to nothing myself. But now I'm better informed."
"So…you have a plan?"
"Yes." Lou's brows furrowed with thought. Vara could probably be trained to become Queen. So, at least that was out of the way for now.
Now, all I need to do is convince Garmadon to stop this war before it truly starts, Lou thought wearily. I pray the task won't be quite so formidable once Lord Kai's letter arrives.
"So…what is the plan?" Haja pressed.
Lou lowered his hands, looking the Nindroid in the eye, and smiled. "I'm going to cause trouble, of course."
Lou, the spice that no one realized this story needed until he arrived. XD
A million thanks to Kira Vulpes for her help! And thanks again to all who reviewed on the previous chapter. From the bottom of my heart, I appreciate it.
Reviews are the chocolate chips to my cookies. :D Thanks for reading! Have a great week, all.