Black Sea Horan: To Convince a King

Rose leapt to her own feet (managing not to crash her chair), and tried an unsteady curtsey before King Charles. The monarch ignored her, stepping close to Thorsten to pierce him with a stare from his commanding height – he was at least five inches taller than Rose's companion.

"Well, Sjovold?" he demanded, radiating power even with his disdainful use of Thorsten's bare last name.

Thorsten licked his lips, gathering his wits. "Ers majestät – " he began, but was cut off by Charles.

"In English, Sjovold." He waved an imperious hand in Rose's direction. "You speak to her of this thing in English, but do not speak to me of it in Swedish. So speak English to me, and perhaps I will hear the truth this time."

Thorsten was trapped. "Your majesty," he began again, "it is a device... for traveling through time."

"What? You speak nonsense."

Thorsten motioned towards Rose. "This is Miss Rose Tyler, your majesty, from England. England in the year – " He glanced over at Rose, having forgotten what she'd said.

"Twenty-sixteen," she whispered. She didn't trust her voice any further.

"Two thousand sixteen," he continued. "She's come back in time to correct a mistake in her history, one that caused her past – our future – to go horribly wrong."

"A mistake that requires my presence at the Pruth?" Charles was quick on the uptake, Rose had to give him that.

"Yes, your majesty. Without your presence there to turn the tide, Peter will get away, and all your planning come to naught."

Charles dismissed that, chewing over the previous revelation. "A device... for traveling through time? Into the past? Show it to me!"

"Your majesty... we do not have it. It was stolen from her."

"By whom?"

Thorsten glanced over to Rose, and she found her voice at last. "Khan Giray has it, your majesty."

"Giray? He rides with the Turkish army, does he not? Then HE has it, and is using it now?"

Rose shook her head. "He doesn't know how to use it, your majesty."

"In fact," Thorsten took it up. "He doesn't even know what it is."

Charles speared him with a sudden sharp glance. "And what of this Stygga Vargen, this spy called Bad Wolf? Does HE know?"

Caught off guard, Thorsten glanced again at Rose. "No, your majesty," he replied. "The three of us are the only ones in the world who know what this device does."

Curious, Charles asked, "What does it look like?"

Thorsten shrugged. "I've never seen it." He turned to Rose again, drawing Charles's eyes to her fully for the first time.

Rose gulped as the king turned to stare at her, his dark blue eyes seeming to pierce her soul. "It... it looks a little like a large, leather-covered wristwatch, your majesty." When that word seemed to mean nothing to either man, she continued, rubbing two fingers over her other wrist to demonstrate. "Kind of like a pocket watch, attached to a leather strap around your wrist." Apparently pocket watches, unlike wristwatches, had already been invented, since this further explanation satisfied them.

Charles took a step back, staring into some middle distance over the table. "To go back into history, and change it," he murmured, apparently to himself. "To change how things happened. I could use this device to return to Poltava." He turned back to Thorsten. "I was wounded at Poltava, and could not lead my men. That is why they lost, in such a crushing defeat, and I had to flee here. But if I could go back and lead them properly, we would have won that battle, and crushed Peter even then!"

Rose's jaw dropped, mirroring the feeling her stomach was sending. This was NOT what she had in mind!

Charles still ignored her, though, making up his royal mind with a snap of his fingers, his eyes aglow with possibilities. "I will indeed travel to the Pruth, Sjovold. But not to this battle. I will go to find the Khan, and retrieve this... this time jumper, for myself. I will put it to much better use than the Turks!" Deigning to be friendly, now, he clapped Thorsten on one shoulder. "We leave at dawn!"

He turned to sweep out of the tent, but Rose spoke up before he could take a step. "Your majesty!" Turning back to raise an imperious eye at this upstart woman, he didn't reply. But now she'd gotten her back up. "You're forgetting something, your majesty. I am the only person in the world who knows how to use the time jumper. Try to use it yourself without knowing how, and who knows when or where you'll end up – the bottom of the ocean, or on the moon, even!"

The king swiveled back around on his heel, slowly, giving Rose a once-over. "What do you want?"

The question struck her heart. "I just want to go home," she managed. "Back to my own time and place."

He considered a moment, then nodded. "Very well, Miss – "

"Tyler," supplied Thorsten.

"Miss Tyler," Charles continued without acknowledging him. "I will strike a treaty with you. Teach me how to use it, and the first thing I shall do is to take you home, before I travel anywhere else. Agreed?"

Now she was trapped. She couldn't see any way out. Slowly, Rose nodded. "All right. Your majesty," she added as an afterthought, dipping her head in what she hoped was an acceptable show of respect.

Charles gave her a sharp nod, and swirled about, sailing out through the tent flaps. They heard him calling to someone, then shortly a general hubbub started; apparently he'd given orders to leave camp at dawn.

Neither Rose nor Thorsten looked at each other, each lost in their own churning thoughts.

"Well," Rose sighed at length. "I guess we'd better get some sleep while we can." She turned away and moved slowly over to one of the cots, the one on the end, her heart heavy.

"Rose..." Thorsten whispered hoarsely, stopping her. She looked over her shoulder at him, and saw him focus on the tent wall behind her, then reach towards the candles. To mask their shadows from any watchers outside, she realized, barely catching a glimpse of her outline on the canvas wall as he put out the flames, leaving only the softest reflected torch- and moonlight coming in from outside through the gap between the tent flaps.

She turned around to face him as he walked quietly over to her in the gloom, startling her by coming much closer than she expected. He leaned over, putting his lips a bare inch from her ear, and whispered hesitantly, with many long pauses, so softly she barely heard him even from that tiny distance.

"I risk treason to say this. But... I am... uneasy... at the thought of... anyone blundering through history." He couldn't bring himself to put a name to it, she realized, and nodded her understanding. "You have returned to make a single specific change," he went on, a bit stronger now. "But for anyone else... God only knows what havoc might be wrought." He pulled his head back to gaze into her eyes, seeking understanding, and she nodded again, her own worst fears from the interview just finished finding voice in his whisper.

"I give you my word, then... that I will do... whatever I can... to put the jumper into your hands alone," he promised, his voice low and intense. Suddenly seeming to realize how close their faces were, his eyes flickered down to her lips, and he made the tiniest movement towards them. And then caught himself with a sharp intake of breath. "So that you can return home, to whoever is waiting for you." The noise from his throat might have been a quiet sob. "And I hope he realizes what he's got."

Thorsten abruptly wheeled about, striding to the tent flaps and outside before she could blink. The sudden hole in the air where he'd just stood, inches away from her body, felt as cold and empty as outer space. Without warning, her knees collapsed, and she sat down hard on the cot behind her, shaking.

But she couldn't have said why.