Sadly, I don't own Twilight, but I do enjoy having fun with the characters. :-) I don't have a beta, so all typos are my own fault. A/N at the end of the chapter.

I ran.

I ran from her chamber, down the hall, exited the palace, and into the welcoming arms of the forest.

Madness – the call that beckoned me to take the young Queen nearly overwhelmed me. To take her blood, to sink my teeth into her warm, buttery skin and drink of the elixir that sang to me and yet I knew I wanted her in other ways. In ways that were normal for a man to want a woman – but between a demon and a human – well that was also madness. The feel of her skin beneath my fingers was burned into my mind and even away from her; my fingers seemed to hum from the phantom presence of her flesh.

Had the ache in my chest not thrummed to life, I wonder how far I would have gone. As it was, I had ran deep enough into the woods that I could not make out any thoughts, did not feel the hum of our young bond. I was alone in the darkness of the forest, alone to clear my mind.

I wanted …. No, needed distance from her. Needed to regain control over my mind, over the beast within.

The dual desires raged within me. The madness threatened to return and wash over me. Control seemed to slip between my fingers and I growled my frustration.

Focus. I commanded myself to focus on something. Anything.

The mission.

I shook myself to remember that I did, indeed, have a mission at hand. The sooner that mission was completed, the sooner I could properly sort out whatever this was.

How much time would be needed to ferret out the truth regarding King Karl's death? Days? Weeks? Surely, no more than a month at most. With my ability to read the minds of those around me, it would not take long to determine if the King had been murdered or had indeed died a natural death.

If I focused on the mission, to uncover the thoughts of those around me regarding the King's final days, then I could be done with Dagez. Yet, I knew I also needed to find the truth about the woman fate had deemed to be my mate. Equal parts of disgust and anger rolled through me. My body's instinct to protect her; someone who I suspected played a hand in her own father's untimely death.

Yet I found myself curious about the woman as well. Was her initial fear of me because of what I was or some other reason entirely? Why was her mind silent to me? Why did she refuse an audience with her husband, her King? Frustration rolled through my body as I struggled to remain focused.

Complete the mission.

I could not very well complete my mission out in the forest.

I could not maintain my cover; play my part out in the forest.

The servant Aaron would expect me to return and each moment that ticked by was another moment that would need to be explained. How did one explain to a mortal servant that they were preoccupied in a forest, quelling murderous desires towards the Queen?

Inappropriate.

I chuckled as I recalled Aaron's thoughts about the idea of me administering the Queen's massage – that it would be inappropriate, regardless that he believed me to be eunuch. Time had run out – I needed to return to the palace, be assigned my quarters, and continue to play the part of a servant gifted to the new King and Queen.

It was time to return.

With one last deep inhale of fresh air; free from the aroma of the young Queen and all the stirrings her fragrance provoked, I turned back to the palace.

Upon my return to the palace, I returned to the throne room in search of Aaron. Of course, I knew he was there, waiting impatiently for my return. He wanted to assign my quarters and be done with me.

Apparently, I made his skin crawl.

Such wisdom for someone who seemed so simple.

Aaron had paced by the large hearth in the room while his mind buzzed with irritation. Where is he? The man turned on his heel to continue his pace, frustration practically vibrated from his hunched shoulders and drawn brow. Then his eyes looked upward, glanced about the room in search of me yet again, and when he did not locate me in his sweep of the room, sighed again and turned on his heel in the opposite direction. When he turned, he almost collided with my solid frame, and I held back a dark chuckle when his body withdrew, took several paces back to place space between us. Gruffly, he nodded to me, his heart pounded in his chest and blood rushed to his extremities to prepare him to flee. "Follow me," his voice tried to command me.

With that, he turned and I could see the hairs on his neck and on the exposed skin of his arms stand on end. His body screamed danger to him, yet stubbornly he continued his march forward. I followed behind him, eager to be rid of the man who tried to reason away his body's reaction to my nearness, whose simplicity unnerved me. The man was loyal to his King, yet whether the loyalty was born out of respect or something else, I was unsure. Yet as I followed the old man through the halls of the palace, towards the servants' quarters, I listened to his thoughts for anything of use.

While Aaron was not a part of the King's inner circle, he had known the man prior to his rise to power months earlier. The attendant had overseen preparations and comforts for Yåkov's family when they were at the palace, which in the later years had been more frequent. It was how the older man knew of Yåkov's preferences and had – so far – escaped the man's wrath. However, it was the new King's wrath that had the attendant worried, frustrated as he showed me to my quarters. I was not the one he was waiting for so impatiently; it was another – someone whose name and face was clouded in his thoughts. Someone Yåkov had left explicit instructions to be alerted to – regardless of being otherwise occupied or not - once the unnamed person arrived.

When we arrived at the door to my chambers, Aaron pushed the door open and gestured inside, "Here are your quarters." Without another word, he turned and left me. After all, he was not my attendant, a mere servant, like himself, but even so – someone beneath his own station.

I stepped inside the small quarters – a squared room with a single bed, a hearth that would go unused, and a window. The window caught my attention and I moved to the edge of the sill. It would do nicely; the opening faced the forest instead of the village and overlooked a courtyard. Should anyone become suspicious of me, the window would be an easy way in and out of the room that due to the height would not be monitored.

Satisfied with the room, though I knew I did not truly need it, I turned to the door to return to the throne room to learn whom exactly Yåkov waited for so eagerly. Who was the mystery person in the attendant's thoughts? The man or woman who should have already arrived and risked Yåkov's wrath for the older man? Perhaps they would be unimportant, but it was somewhere to start my investigation. Crouched low, I listened for any who would be in the halls, to ensure they would not see my exit from the room.

No! Please no!

The damned bond pulled against me. My body reacted instinctively, spine straight, growl rumbled in my chest, and fingers curled into claws. Something was wrong. Through the thoughts of my family, I had experienced – to a lesser degree – the mating bond. The tenor of the bond changed based on circumstances. It seemed to alert the other when their mate was happy, scared, or even in danger. And the damn bond was screaming danger and fear at me in droves. Could the damn Queen not even be left alone to sleep? Did she not have other servants? No, I would not be a slave to the bond, especially to a woman I did not know or even like. She was in the palace, surrounded by guards, sleeping in her bedchamber – she would be fine.

Need you!

Please! Help me!

The bond screamed in my head, bore down on me – it demanded that I pay attention; that I attend to my mate. Torn between returning to the throne room to identify the mystery visitor or speeding to the young Queen's side, I growled in frustration. Why now?

Please!

Fear and danger had escalated to absolute terror and I could not ignore the pleadings any longer. I swore under my breath as I turned in the opposite direction and dove from the window to land silently on the greenery of the courtyard below. To the left was the fastest route to the Queen's chambers, and I blurred through the darkness, the shadows covering my inhuman movements. Time seemed to stand still as I rushed to her side – while worry and fear seemed to slink through my defenses, my anger and irritation at having been bothered by her. I did not like the woman, but I begrudgingly noted that I did not really know her either. There was a faint whisper in my head, a seed of hope, that suggested that perhaps I would like her, could love her, and my hesitation could ruin the chance of happiness I had been offered. That however, only spiked my irrational fear and pushed me to move even faster to get to the Queen.

Fucking hope.

The door to her chambers came into view – once again without a guard, something as her house Karl I would need to remedy – and I nearly took the door off the hinge to enter the chamber. I paused inside the doors, threw out my senses to discover anything out of the ordinary. No signs of entry after I had left. We were utterly alone in her chambers. There was only one wet heartbeat – and it sounded as if it would pound right out of her chest. Her breathing was erratic, short pants and puffs and wheezes that spoke of the utter terror she was experiencing. Anger rolled through me, white hot as I imagined someone hurting what was mine. Without even deciding to move, I was through the doors to her inner chambers, needed to see her with my own eyes – but was without a plan for anything that would come after.

Her room was quiet, save the thunder of her heart and pants of her breath. The moon bathed her body under the sheets, outlined her legs that kicked in an unseen struggle. I could taste her perspiration in the air, the sweet taste of her sweat and the tang of her fear.

There was no attack, I realized. Rather, the young woman was in the middle of an extremely vivid nightmare and would most likely wake at any moment. I looked about the room – unwilling to leave her, but needed an excuse to be there when she awoke, which based on her heart rate, would be any moment. A lantern sat on the edge of her bed table and I quickly retrieved it and exited the room. Only two more wet beats of her heart and then the screaming began. The cries ripped through her as I heard her body shoot straight up in the bed, the sobbing cries that fell from her lips as she panted, tangled in the bedcovers.

Unable to wait, I pushed through the doors to enter her inner chamber again. "Highness, are you alright?" I called to alert her to my entry.

"Jarpr, thank gods. You startled me," she whispered, her voice hoarse from the screams. "Come near, I cannot see you plainly."

I drew closer to her, sat on the edge of her bed, "I am here, Highness. Are you well?" Of course, I knew that she was safe, that she had not been harmed – yet still, I needed her confirmation that she was all right.

"Water, please. My throat burns." I withdrew from her bed to retrieve the requested water. Yet it did not escape my notice that her body leaned towards the direction of mine, as if she desired my nearness, the proximity. When I returned with the tankard of water, I handed it to her – fingers itching to brush against her flesh as she reached for the tankard, and watched as she eagerly gulped down the cool liquid. "Thank you, that is much better." The movements of her throat mesmerized me as she swallowed the water, her lips that hugged the edge of the cup, and the soft sound of her breathing – all seemed to tempt me, to draw me closer. Yet, it was her lingering fear that weighed heavily in the air, that brought me back to myself – that cleared my thoughts and desires.

Worry settled in my gut, it seemed my lot to experience these unfamiliar emotions with her nearness. I found myself wanting to touch her, to ease her fear. "May I help you relax Highness?" The words slipped through my lips before I had even considered the offer. She nodded in silent reply. "Lay down," I instructed and gestured to the soft bedding beneath her.

Her body was tense – from either the nightmare or anticipation of our skin touching again. Anticipation rolled through me and the air hummed around me. Despite my mixed feelings towards the woman in the bed, I ached to touch her again, to feel her skin beneath mine, to have her heat sear through me. Then, I touched her – skin to skin, as her heat poured into me, the hum roared in my ears – and it was wonderful.

Carefully, mindful of my strength and how easily I could break her, I kneaded the tight muscles and knots in her shoulders, ghosting over the materials of her dressing gown. Her eyes slid closed and her bunched muscles relaxed under my fingers. The soothing pulse of her heart whispered to me, relaxed each worried thought that had only moments ago pulled and yanked me towards her chambers.

"Jarpr," she murmured, "tell me more about your life and where you live."

For a moment, my hands stilled, and then resumed running my fingers along a soothing circuit over the curves of her back. What to share with her? Without trust, I knew I had to be cautious – not giving away my mission or the truth of what I was. Yet, with a sigh, I found myself being more transparent with her than I planned, "Tyr is a beautiful and diverse country. It would be difficult to know where to begin."

She murmured in acknowledgment. This small token prompted me to continue. "Ours is a culture with traditions very similar to yours. We're in a period of prosperity, so the King often hosts parades and celebrations to recognize those who have ushered in this current era. Our resources are plentiful. The farmlands are fertile. The hunting and fishing are bountiful. There are mines and rock quarries in some of the outlying areas that I have heard are producing at record levels." This was normal information to share, was it not? To speak about the abundance of my current homelands – the pride I felt that my people were well cared for, that we protected and provided for them. "There are beautiful ruins throughout the realm, cairns as tall as a giant," I chuckled to myself as Emmett's face flashed in my mind, his easy but competitive nature that on more than one occasion left some mark on the landscape around us. "I've even heard whispers of stories that the gods made them."

Intrigued, she asked, "Tell me some of those stories."

I thought of the stories the villagers whispered, to their children in their beds at night or the seers to their enraptured audiences. I remembered the shock the first time the family had overheard a story. It had been during a wedding celebration, for Emmett and Rose, and an old man with a hunched back had whispered the story to inebriated audience. I shared the story of my family with her, of Ansuz the Father and the wife, sons, and daughter he had created for his family. I asked her of the Isa Mountains and was unsurprised to learn she had been named after the range that separated Dagez from Tyr.

Almost too soon, her body relaxed, her breathing deep and steady – she was close to sleep. I knew I should leave; yet I paused – wanting to spend any time with her that I could. Equally, I hated and rejoiced in those feelings – hated myself for giving into the feelings and elated that finally, I had found her. As I gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, I gazed upon her face – relaxed and vulnerable in her almost sleep. Could I love her? She had surprised me with her questions that had been colored in what almost sounded like concern for me. Sincere. I believe she was sincerely curious about me and perhaps even worried for me. Why would she worry? Was she more than I knew or presumed? In the still of the night, with only the light from the lantern at the bedside, I allowed myself to hope, to embrace the possibility that I could love her – really love her beyond the bond that pulled us together.

Silently, I leaned closer to inhale her scent and ghost my lips across her cheek. Please, I prayed, please. I want to love you. More than anything, I want this. Yet, I knew I could not accept the woman I believed her to be, so I hoped against hope that I was completely wrong. I had to be strong – strong enough to turn away from her, to reject the bond if need be – no matter how much I wanted this, I had to also want her. I had to protect myself, keep some distance, and finish the mission. Only then could I refocus on the woman before me and make any decisions. Steeling my resolve, I rose from the bed and left the room.

Author's Note: I feel like a broken record - "I'm sorry ... So sorry ... Please accept, my apology ...". I owe you a much better explanation so here's a little about me: long story short - my job has changed drastically over the past year. I took a new role, but travel increased and when traveling and working on a Master's degree and trying to sleep at some point, something had to give. Since the beginning of this year, my role changed drastically and travel ramped up even further - to now 3 to 4 weeks a month (yep - you read that right). And still working on Master's degree. And, my kids just started their first year of middle school a few weeks ago... So with that, life has been crazy to say the least. I am trying to get on some kind of schedule - so if you are still with me, still reading - I cannot express my gratitude for your patience.

Ginnungagap overlap - I'm trying to minimize overlap here, for example I cut out the entire story that Jarpr shared with her regarding the gods of his lands. If you haven't read Ginnungagap yet, then there might end up being some things that you miss (like the gods story). If there's a reason for me to keep it (like Jarpr wondering if what he shared was "normal") then I keep the content to share the different perspective.

We can see Jarpr is a bit torn here - he wants a mate but he doesn't want her as his mate (and is a little bitter about fate's humor). So what did you think?