.:Rescue:.

It was a week before Thalia was found. Every day I would stand by the window of my room to which my husband had spelled me in to, since he said I was growing hysterical with worry. And maybe I was hysterical, but my beloved daughter was missing! Anything could have happened to her; I knew exactly what could result from carelessness at social events, and what if my daughter had been kidnapped like I had been? Thousands upon thousands of "what if"'s ran through my mind, many of which were terrible and left a sickened taste in my mouth and fresh tears in my eyes.

Seven days merged into one another, a confusion of angered or desperate tears, curses both to my own weakness and my husband's ruthlessness, and yet it was the longest week of my life. I sat by the window, looking out across to the church tower – a light would be shone from there if the missing princess was recovered, but the light remained unlit; a sickening symbol of my grief. And still my Thalia did not return to me.

I couldn't imagine my daughter dead. Then, one night, as I slept restlessly in a chair by the window, I found myself on the dirt track amongst the towering white trees. I felt my throat tighten as I recognised the dream around me, knowing exactly what was happening, and I suddenly felt very, very alone and frightened beyond my wits end. I knew Myron was behind me – I could feel his hot breath against the back of my ear, and then his hands were on my shoulders. The touch, though, was as hard as iron.

"You are most probably the worst mother I could have chosen for my child," Myron told me cruelly, then he spun me viciously round to face me. His blue eyes seemed to blaze red with anger. "Don't give me that look, Eloryn, Heldrida told me that Bacall has sent scouts out to look for Princess Thalia! Do you know what his enemies will do now that he's announced to the world that she's disappeared? Bacall's spies won't be the only ones seeking a blue-eyed, black-haired little girl, Eloryn, and they would be less lenient to her than Carsona's army!"

Nine years of caring the little girl we had made. Seven years since our argument. Just one night to lose the most important person in my life – and Myron was furious with me. As I stared at the dirt at our feet, I heard past the renegade Black Knight's anger at me and heard something entirely different: terror, foreboding, regret, love. He had claimed to love our daughter, pestered me of news of her before we had come to blows, but a foolish part of me had always presumed Myron had been humouring me. Now I saw that all my doubts in him were wrong and that he was like any anxious father whose flesh and blood had vanished without trace. Bacall was searching for Thalia because he had to, but he had shown no true concern for her welfare. Myron was.

"Gods curse me!" I suddenly cried, then pulled myself out of Myron's hold. I wanted to run and hide, to put as much distant between myself and he as I could; how could I stand him after I had hurt him so much? But Myron seized my arm and held me, refusing to release me. "Let go, Myron!"

"Eloryn, calm down! Eloryn, look at me?" I stopped struggling but kept my eyes fixed on the road ahead of me. I heard Myron curse fluently. "We both know that we said things to each other that were...extremely uncalled for, Eloryn. We're both proud, strong people, too stubborn for our own good, but we have to put those things to one side now: Thalia is our daughter, whether we can see eye-to-eye or nay, and she needs us to cooperate with each other now more than ever before in her life."

I wanted to bite my tongue, but the words flashed from my mouth before I could stop them. "Myron, I'm...I've never been so terrified before in my life!"

"Me neither, and I've witnessed some horrific things in my time." There was an awkward silence for a moment. "You look...you look like you've been kicked by a horse. Gods be saved, Bacall hasn't even bothered to check how you're faring!"

The anger surged within my breast, giving way to a hopelessness that made my voice waver. "Myron, stop trying to make me feel sorry for myself! Yes, Bacall has left me alone, and I'm glad!" Without waiting for Myron to ask, I choked out the events that had led to Thalia's disappearance. Before I'd finished I was in tears, and Myron was holding me tightly in his arms. "I just want my daughter back, Myron! No one knows where she's gone!"

"I'll kill the no-good bastard that's done this!" Myron swore viciously, then pulled my face up to look at him. "Do we wipe the slate clean now that this has happened, or is pride going to be our enemy once more?"

His answer was a confused mingle of desperation, passion, grief and joy. When we finally broke our kiss, I was cursing almost as angrily as Myron had done. "We can't keep doing this, Myron! It's going to kill us if we continue our fights!"

"What sort of couple would we be if we did not enjoy the odd duelling of our poisonous words every once in a while?" Myron asked sadly, then turned his beautiful eyes up towards the sky. "But I do understand what you mean, my love. Now, we must find our daughter. Do you have anything on you that belongs to her? A hair band? A bracelet? Anything that would have been in contact with her."

I saw his eyes latch onto the locket that I was suddenly pulling up and over my head. I turned the tiny key within its golden side, letting the latch spring open to reveal a lock of black hair. As I held the hair out for Myron, I saw him nod and smile briefly. "That will suffice."

He took the lock clumsily with his fingers, cradling it with the palm of his hands as he began to whisper strange words over and over. The air around Myron began to grow heavy and shimmering, until I had to cast my eyes away from his spell and back away until the air was as light as I had remembered it to be. Myron's eyes were closed with concentration, his brow furrowed, and handsome face alive with determination. When I finally heard him let out a hiss of surprise, I feared the worst and ran to him.

"What's wrong? Oh, Mryon, please tell me that my daughter is safe! Please!"

The spell lifted. Myron remained motionless where he stood, his face full of a pain that made my blood freeze and my heart shrivel within my chest. When I was about to cry once more, preparing to mourn the loss of my baby, I felt Myron's hand cup against my cheek. When I looked at him, his crystal blue eyes danced with pride.

"She's more beautiful than I've ever dared imagine, Eloryn," Myron told me gently, then pressed his lips to mine. I felt myself begin to melt inwardly as his hands held me to him, but I had to push him away. He smiled slightly as he saw the look on my face. "I feared that she was captured or dead, too, Elroyn, but Thalia is safe for the time being. She has merely wandered into the woods and is lost."

"'Merely'!" I cried, horrified. "Myron, there are wolves and bears and...and gods only know what else in those woods! My poor baby must be terrified out of her wits! Myron, you have to take me there!"

His arms folded themselves across his chest. "On one condition."

"I'm not playing your stupid games, Myron!" I shouted furiously. "Our daughter has never been allowed to venture into those wood, wild beasts care little for the pleadings of an unarmed nine-year-old girl, and now you want me to grant you a demand? Oh, just tell me what it is!"

Myron looked unimpressed. "Poisonous words, Eloryn, remember? I was merely going to say that I wanted to go with you. But if you'd rather me leave her there..."

I grabbed his hand in my own, glaring at him. "Myron!"

The man squeezed my hand gently, then the light vanished and we were attacked by a cruel onslaught of howling wind. My eyes shut against the darkness of the night around us, feeling unbearably disorientated, but Myron was walking forwards with me, his steps sure and precise. When I finally opened my eyes, I saw Myron glance back at me and jerk his head forwards. "Go to her, Eloryn. She'll recognise you."

It was then, behind the screaming wind, that I heard the frightened sobbing of a child. I released Myron's hand and rushed past him, calling Thalia's name desperately. The gloom around me pressed in for a moment, as though trying to hold me where I was, but then a small figure came hurtling out of the darkness of a hollowed tree trunk in front of me. The impact of the child's hug nearly knocked me off my feet, yet all I could do was fall to my knees and hold my weeping, screaming child as close to myself as I could manage.

"You're safe! Oh, Thalia, you're safe!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Mother, I didn't want to scare anyone! I just didn't want Father to shout at me, not again!" Behind me, Myron tensed at the name Thalia had just used for Bacall. "I'm so sorry! Mummy, I'm so cold!"

As I gently held Thalia out at arm's length, Myron muttered a spell for light. As the gentle glow lighted Thalia's face, I saw the results of the dirt and the cold. She was also thinner than I remembered, even though she had been gone merely a week, and her lips looked dry and chapped. Before I could insist on taking her back to the palace, Thalia was staring at Myron with unmasked wariness as he knelt down next to us. I met his eye, terror rising in me. Don't say anything!

"Princess, it is an honour," Myron said carefully, then nodded. Thalia didn't look like she could think of anything to say, and her tears were still fresh on her cheeks. "If you would let me, Thalia, I would warm you a little. It is not healthy for a child, or even an adult, to face the elements in such fancy garments as which you now wear."

Thalia swallowed nervously, then glanced in my direction. Releasing that she was asking whether or not it was all right for her to speak to Mryon was to me, at that moment in my life, the worst realisation I had ever encountered, and I nodded eagerly. "Thalia, this is...this is an old friend of mine, Myron of Ēnastral. He helped me to find you, my love. You do not need to fear this man; he will not scold you."

"I have tried to keep myself warm with the spells that I learnt," Thalia admitted shamefully, then hung her head. "But I grew too tired."

Myron graced her with his most heart-warming of grins, and I saw in Thalia's eyes that she had taken an instant liking to him. Her father. "That's to be expected: you're young and have not grown fully into your magical capability. You need to pace yourself, Thalia, and trying to keep yourself warm during such cold days and nights is tiring for any man, let alone a child at so delicate an age as yourself. Will you let me help you?"

Thalia moved her head so that Myron could press his fingers up against the life-beat at her neck. I watched his face as he silently gave our daughter back the strength and warmth that she had lost, yet I was not prepared to watch her fall forwards to the ground.

"Myron, what have you done!" I screamed, trying to pull her limp body away from him, but Myron grabbed my shoulders and hushed me. "You've killed her!"

"No, I put her into a healing sleep," corrected he, then sighed. "I also told her not to tell Bacall of me. He knows my name, Eloryn, and he'll know me for a Dark Knight albeit a renegade one." He looked down at the sleeping child, eyes filled with pain. "He doesn't deserve to call my daughter his own, nor you as his wife. Just...just make sure that he is not too hard on her, Eloryn. I would hate it if she were to be distressed."

I looked away. "Bacall is furious with her. She ran away, disobeyed his orders, has half of the army searching for her, and you expect that Bacall will embrace her with open arms when she returns? He isn't like you, Myron. You can be a bastard when the mood takes you, but you would never sink so low as to treat your daughter the same way as you can sometimes treat me."

"Your words hurt me."

"Not as much as Bacall hurts us, Myron." His eyes grew narrow with hate. "Thalia might as well be mud that would be stomped from his boot. Myself...I'm nothing but a pretty little doll that he would use as he pleases and when he pleases." Myron spat on the ground, shaking his head with disgust. "The Dark Knights?"

"Mmmh? Bah, they have given up trying to hunt me down. I have met...met Elan only once over these nine years."

"And?" My hope was lost on a shrug.

"He threatened to castrate me with his bare hands, nearly beheaded me with a sword, but I managed to..." Myron swallowed, hard. The guilt in his eyes made me shuffle closer to him and wrap my arms around his chest. "I killed my own brother, Eloryn! I flung him out over the edge of a cliff with my magic and let him fall! It was the least that he would have done to me and yet...and yet I still feel worse than a murderer. I tried to find his body so that I could at least give him the honourable burial he deserved. Yes, Eloryn, honourable," Myron told me sternly, as he saw the disbelieving look in my eyes. "As much as you and everyone else hate him, Eloryn, Elan was still my brother. He cared for me during some of the hardest years of our life. But I couldn't find the body – the river claimed it. I can never forgive myself for that. But what of you? What have the nine years done for you?"

"My father was killed on a hunting expedition after he became separated from the rest of his party," I commented dryly. "A sorcerer pulled him from his horse and ripped his heart from his chest, then threw his body down a mine shaft. By the time the guards found him, they say his face was hideously disfigured and infested with maggots, but there is no question of the body's identity."

"Well, fair is fair," mused Myron, then nodded with relief. "I had heard that Harte was made King in Tirrius, but I never knew that your father had met such a fitting death."

"He will be reunited with my mother and siblings, at least," I murmured, then glanced down at my daughter. "We should get her back to the palace."

Myron followed my gaze, resting his check on the top of my head. "Run away with me, Eloryn! You, myself, Thalia, we could be the family we always wanted to be! Just say 'yes'."

"Bad things happen when I give in to you, Myron," I replied quietly. "Thalia could have meant death for me, and I'm not speaking of labour. Besides, Bacall would not sleep until he found us – he does not like things being taken from him."

Myron's voice was pleading. "I could protect you."

"But we're too noticeable. Besides, if we were caught, Myron, all three of us would die." I stroked his cheek sadly. "You know I want to, Myron. But Thalia...I have to think of her. Bacall is horrible to her, but the palace is all she knows. And she's safe from the horrors which we both know exist out here in the real world."

The man stood, holding his hands down to help me to my feet. He slowly stooped and lifted Thalia into his arms, shying back as I made to take her. "Please. You get to see her and hold her every single day, and I have not seen Thalia since I named her. I would like to be able to hold my daughter in my arms, if only for a short time."

I couldn't refuse. Myron took the lead, carrying Thalia as though she were a sacred icon that would break if not cared for properly, and I followed along behind with a heaviness in my heart. Even as I observed him, I could see the longing in Myron's eyes that betrayed his determination to never to allow his child leave him again. The walk took us nearly half the night, and through the gaps in the canopy above us we watched the sky above the trees gradually grow lighter. The stars vanished. The sun began to crawl its way into the sky.

"This is where I stop," Myron said quietly, his voice sounding dry with emotion. He stared down at Thalia, his eyes shinning, unashamed. He let out a heart wrenching groan of misery, hugging Thalia's still-sleeping form close to him one last time, before he kissed her forehead gently and laid her on the ground. I stepped forwards to pick her up, but he held out his hand to stop me. "No, Elle. We must leave her."

"But...but, Myron, we can't just leave her---"

"Look over there," Myron instructed bitterly and, hesitantly, I complied. Ahead of us where the forest thinned and disappeared, I saw a huge stretch of land that was unspoiled by farm or town. This land, I realised, was on the other side of the palace grounds, and in the middle of it was an encampment. Men in the distinctive uniform of the Carsona army were milling around, doing brief morning exercises before they continued their search. "They will find her and take her home. I must be nowhere around, for they will presume me to be a kidnapper or worse, and if you are found here... That is beyond the question."

Myron spoke sense. I knelt and kissed my daughter's cheek tenderly, then stood to face Myron. "Will you take me back to the palace, then?"

He took my hand, and suddenly we were in my chambers. I kissed Myron before I could control myself, then smiled at him. "You have restored my daughter, my lover, and my happiness all in the space of one evening, Myron. For that, I am eternally in your debt! There is no possible way I could repay you, Myron, not for saving my – our – daughter's life."

His fingers tweaked my nose. "I wouldn't say that, Your Majesty. I myself have several ideas that would satisfy both ourselves and the debt of which you have spoken so generously of, though most of which you would probably deem highly unacceptable."

I couldn't help smile as I pulled Myron closer to me, running my hands up and through his hair. "Myron, you talk far too much."

"I used to think the very same about you," Myron murmured against my ear, then lifted me into his arms. For a moment, he looked like he was about to kiss me again, his eyes overshadowed with lust, then he paused and glanced to the door. "I must control myself, though. As soon as Thalia is found, the messenger that will be sent shall go to your husband, and he will no doubt send some runner to give you the joyous news. I'd recommend a bath," Myron told me, setting me down on the floor besides him. "You're covered in dirt and leaves."

"So are you," I replied, then gently took his arm. "I'm sure a quick wash won't harm anyone."

Myron rolled his eyes and laughed, letting me drag him into the antechamber next to my room that held the tub. He motioned to it, whispering as my hands pulled the buttons of his shirt open, and suddenly steaming water was lapping seductively at the sides of the bath. "This is a terrible idea, Eloryn. I hope it is not being counted as part of the debt you owe me."

I grinned as I helped him unlace the dress that hugged my body. "No, this is merely a treat."

He laughed at that and kissed me deeply, walking slowly back towards the bath with me held tightly in his arms. My daughter was safe, soon to return home; my husband was probably in bed with some maid he had taken a fancy to, as was his way; and I...I smiled at Myron as he stepped into the bath and sank into it, his eyes holding my gaze. Then he grinned and held out his hand, to me, grinning wickedly. I felt like I was eighteen again, excited by the look in Myron's eyes, and I took his hand with a smile.

"This water is going to be freezing by the time you get in," accused Myron mockingly, then lunged forwards, grabbing me abound the waist with his powerful arms with a triumphant laugh that rang within the antechamber. I let out a small scream of surprise and delight, feeling the cold tiles of the floor disappear from under my feet as the renegade lifted me up into the air and pulled me, unresisting, down into the water besides him.

"If you dare defy me in such a humiliating way again, Thalia, you shall be banished from your home to that of my sister's on the border of our lands!" Bacall shouted, making Thalia shrink back in her seat to the point of nearly falling from the chair. "And stop snivelling so! You are a Princess of Carsona, girl, and you should know better!"

I stood besides my husband, watching the scene with disgust. "My lord, I beg you to let this matter slide just this once. Can you not see Thalia is distressed enough about what she has done? To make her regret her actions any more would be worse than torture."

The King rounded on me like a provoked beast. "You would have me ignore the most terrible and serious thing this girl has ever done? Is that it, my lady? You forget that I am King, Eloryn, and that this action committed by our daughter has shown me up for a fool, and her for a disgrace!"

"She is nine-years-old!" objected I strongly, ignoring the pleading expression on Thalia's face for me to step back from the argument. "She did not mean to get herself lost in the forest, and Aswen and Roag would have faired no better in her place!"

It was a terrible thing to have said. Bacall's eyes seemed to bulge with unspeakable annoyance. "How dare you speak of my sons in such a manner! They would have known better than this girl; faced the consequences of their actions like adults!"

"She is a child, Bacall!"

"Then she is a liability of a child!" my husband roared back in my face. "She behaves worse than a cottar's no-account bastard! And she must do so because she is influenced by that stable boy that she plays with!"

I tried to grab Bacall's arm, but he jerked out of my grasp. "For the love of all magic, Bacall, your reasoning is insane! Seth is a good boy! When has he ever given you cause for grief?"

"Since Thalia disobeyed my orders!" The King rounded on my daughter, scarcely noticing the horror on Thalia's face at his words. "You, my girl, are from this moment onwards forbidden to go anywhere near that stable lad whom you call 'friend'! You will stay within your rooms until such a time as I feel you have truly repented your actions, and then anyone whom you wish to play with will be organised by yours truly! Do I make myself clear?"

Thalia nodded. Her shoulders slumped, her head falling to her chest. "Yes, Majesty. I...I am sorry for what I did."

The King merely snorted disbelievingly. "You will thank me for this one day, Thalia. You are my only daughter, precious to this land. Now, you may leave your mother and I alone." He looked at me. "We have business to discuss."

I smiled slightly as Thalia crossed over to me, bobbing a curtsy to my husband. I would not let her curtsy to me, hugging her quickly and kissing her cheek. "My brave girl."

"You mummy her too much," Bacall accused. "Thalia, leave us!"

Watching my daughter close the door behind her filled my heart with anger. How could Bacall not see the sadness in her eyes? I turned to him, feeling unreasonably enraged by his words and actions. He looked at me, his eyes filled with equal rage. I prepared myself to fight on my daughter's behalf; Bacall may be quick to condemn my daughter's happiness over his blaming of poor Seth, but I was not about to let the matter slide so easily.

Pirate - Thanks for the two comments! XD

jon - It went fine! Got the mine shaft in, in the end!

windcriesjimi - I like surprises!

martini the brave – Lol! Fantastic idea! But...

fantasyGuurl – Hey, thank you for the support!

Everyone else, hope you enjoyed too! Llamas, Ginger-Bizkit!