Sorry for the delay. As it happens, March Madness was truly busy at my workplace and I had little time to do regular sitting around the house things, let alone feed my fanfic bug. So after catching up on all of Lost Girl, I have returned, and hopefully will get back to my old posting schedule. Hopefully. Thank you for all of your reviews, and I hope you all forgive my two month hiatus.
The Dal was empty, with Trick wiping down a corner of the long wooden bar with a rag. It amazed Dyson sometimes that this man was the Blood King, a simple bar keep at a way station. He'd been surprised when Trick had allowed him into his confidences, and in some respects, he thought of the Blood King as a second father—since his own father had faded into memory long ago.
He wondered if the man would be disappointed in him taking up with Kenzi. Though Trick was fond of the human, he had counseled Hale to ignore her. Dyson knew that it was because of Trick's loyalty and desire to protect his own granddaughter, Bo. He wanted the world a safer place for the unaligned succubus, and didn't want to bouncy Kenzi to get in the way of that.
Dyson knew that Bo was important to him—he had sworn himself to protect her, but Kenzi was becoming more important to him every day. He didn't know if he loved her, didn't know if he could, but it was becoming more confusing being around her. And it couldn't just be the bonding. Dyson had bonded before, but it had never had this effect.
Trick noticed the wolf standing at the opposite end of the bar, and smiled his own ageless smile.
"Dyson, care for a drink?" Trick pulled out a bottle of Irish whiskey before noticing Dyson's confused expression. "You look like you might need it." Dyson nodded before taking a seat at the bar.
"What's troubling you, old friend?" Trick poured the wolf a long draw of the whiskey into a glass before pouring his own drink.
"Do you remember earlier this week? Kenzi being attacked by that harpy?" Dyson asked, drinking heavily from the glass.
"Of course. She really does need to watch out for herself. Perhaps I should cut her off earlier? She doesn't seem to make the best decisions with a little bit of alcohol in her." Trick shrugged, "Or when she's sober."
"She's still young, Trick." Dyson defended her. He remembered when she came back for him, saving him when everyone else left him for dead against the beserkers. She was stronger than he gave her credit for sometimes, but Trick was right—she did need to be protected.
"She is. Humans tend to forget how fragile they are. It's what makes them so interesting." Trick smiled, pouring more whiskey into Dyson's glass.
"I offered to mark her." Dyson continued, and Trick nodded. "And now…" Dyson struggled for the words to articulate what she meant to him. "Now, I don't know."
"Did you go through the ceremony?" Trick asked, his expression unreadable.
"Yes. She's a member of my pack. But there's something…Trick, there's something different. I can't explain it." Dyson looked at Trick. "I gave away my love, and she got it back."
"She got it back? From the Norn?" Trick seemed surprised by that one, "But the Norn rarely involves herself with humans."
"Kenzi is tenacious." Dyson smiled. "I doubt she cared what the Norn wanted." Looking at Trick's expression, he continued. "She mentioned a chainsaw."
"And what of your affections to my granddaughter?" Trick drank his own glass down. This was a lot of information to process. "You were sure that she was your mate."
"I was." Dyson nodded. "But now, I'm not so sure. I'm happy she's with someone else—and that should be tearing me up inside. I still care about Bo, I do. But it's not the same. It's like, the way you care for a pack member. But not a mate." Dyson drank more.
"I've been looking into that." Trick moved back from the bar and to the room behind it, before returning with a thick brown and maroon book. "When you lost your love for Bo, I tried to find out if there was any hope for you—if your love could be salvaged. I knew it was destroying you, Dyson, and I couldn't watch that happen."
"What did you find?"
"I found no instance of the Norn taking away the love of another. I'm not sure she can." Trick pointed to his book. "She can't take away pure elements, those untouched by magic. It's not within her power. She can take away enchantments, magic, blood bonds. And that got me thinking." Trick closed the book and set it behind the counter. "My granddaughter and I share very strong blood, and I'm sure you must've shared some." Trick didn't balk at mentioning his granddaughters sex life, but continued speaking. "Her blood creates thralls—a kind of devotion that could be very similar to love. It's a powerful bond, but it isn't 'real,' not the way we think of as real, anyway."
"So the Norn took away the blood bond?" Dyson asked, swishing the glass around.
"I think so. It's hard to know for sure without asking, but she left town after the Garuda was defeated." Trick shook his head, "And the older ones are always hard to find when they don't want to be found." Dyson nodded his head in agreement.
"We got off topic. You came here to discuss your inclusion of Kenzi into your pack." Trick smiled.
"You think it's a bad idea. Because she's human." Dyson looked at Trick steadily.
"I think that Kenzi has proven herself useful multiple times. But her humanity often puts her in situations that complicate things." Trick said diplomatically.
"She has fight in her." Dyson continued, "She's powerful, as powerful as she can be. And loyal, even with her past. I would rather have her with me than against me, even in a fair fight. And she's…" he paused. "Trick, I think she's really important to me."
"Important?" Trick asked.
"It's hard to explain. But I wanted her to say yes to the claiming. Otherwise I wouldn't have asked. And now that I have, I can't stop thinking about her, or feeling her. And something Lauren said yesterday, it got me thinking, and I knew I had to talk to you." Dyson drained the rest of the glass. "I think I mated with Kenzi."
Trick froze halfway through a pour, and looked back up at the wolf.
For a long moment, they stared at eachother, unsure about how to proceed. Dyson's ears perked at a familiar sound before the door to the Dal opened suddenly and Kenzi appeared in a pair of skin-tight black jeans and a corset and her trademark high heels.
"C'mon, D'man. We've got a case." She reached for Dyson's hand, and he took it, surprised at how much her presence soothed him. She wore a scarf around her neck to hide the wound, and he wished he could tear it off.
"What's shakin, Trick?" She asked the bartender perkily. Trick raised his eyebrow.
"Need one for the road?" He asked, and both Dyson and Kenzi shook their heads no, before she dragged Dyson out of the bar.
Trick stood in the empty bar and worried. There were implications to this that Dyson and Kenzi didn't understand. He needed to do some research.
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