Edited on July 8, 2015. I'm currently working through this story and making slight adjustments to the story in order to fix certain inaccuracies that started popping up later in the story.

I own nothing of the Black Jewels Trilogy or any following novels. All rights go to Anne Bishop. Thanks for reading!

BJT:ANW

Chapter 12

"Knock knock," Lucien called.

The nineteen teens in the large room all turned towards the door, eager eyes fastening on the pair in the entrance of the room.

"Arina!" Yaslana cried, getting up and rapidly crossing the room toward his older brother and the slender, now winged girl in his arms. Lucien growled softly, and Arina hit his chest with the heel of her hand in response to the primal sound. Yaslana paused where he was, holding perfectly still.

Lucien stared at his brother with slightly glazed eyes, trying to maintain his temper. While part of him understood that the other male wasn't a threat, a larger part was too concerned with Arina's weakness to want anyone near her. Arina heaved a long suffering sigh. "Males," she groaned. "Lucien, relax. They aren't planning to jump me, I don't think."

"Jump you?" Morton asked from safely across the room.

"Attack, assault, grab onto in some fashion," Arina explained as Lucien stepped slowly into the room. "Though usually someone gets jumped from behind in the middle of the night, so it technically isn't the most accurate of terms, I guess."

"I wouldn't be so sure that they won't try to grab you," Lauranna teased from one of several couches scattered around the space. "Let me tell you, the boyos weren't nearly interested in what we had been up to this past month." Arina smirked at her in a silent response.

The boys hastily cleared off one of the couches, moving countless sheets of drawings onto a table in a corner so that Arina could have space. Silently, the girl wondered why they were on the couch in the first place, when the table was not that far away. Lucien gently laid her down on the seat, and she grimaced in pain despite herself. "This has got to be getting better soon," she groused. It didn't take her more than a few seconds to realize that it probably wasn't the smartest thing to say when she was surrounded by volatile, powerful males who reacted strongly to female distress. Silently she cursed herself as everyone in the room looked up and focused on her unerringly. "I'm just a little bit sore," she backpedaled quickly. "Relax!"

They most certainly did not relax, and the Queen huffed in exasperation. Yaslana watched his brother carefully as he approached Arina again. This time, Arina clamped her hand down on Lucien's wrist, and as a result, only a slight narrowing of eyes betrayed the older male's annoyance. Yaslana sank down to the floor in front of Arina's couch, and asked "Are you—alright?"

Silver eyes studied the concern on Yaslana's face, and then looked around to see everyone else. They all looked equally worried, and even frightened. Puzzled, Arina glanced back at Lucien for an explanation; he had known what had happened to her, after all.

"The Healers only let me stay with you because I was liable to destroy the Hall if I was kept away," he told her, his voice low and somewhat sheepish. "No one else was allowed in the room with you."

"Is that unusual, then?" she asked, equally quiet.

His jaw tightened. "With my mother, and Karla, and Gabrielle? Yes, that's very unusual."

"Oh." The girl turned back to Yaslana and smiled calmly. This obviously wasn't a good time to simply brush off their concerns the way that she wanted to—that would be a betrayal of the fragile trust beginning to grow in the group, and she was unwilling to do it. "I'm very sore, and I'm supposed to stay as still as possible for a week. Not," she added with a wry smile, "That it's going to be much of a problem for me, because when I do move, that's when I really start to hurt. When I'm staying still it isn't nearly as bad, just a dull ache all over. Right now, my body is apparently trying to stabilize the changes to my frame—Jaenelle said that it should only be about a week or so before it doesn't hurt to move anymore. But even after that, I'll still be weak for quite a while because so many of my muscles changed shape, and I lost all the strength that I had, and I need to completely start over and build them up from scratch." Arina shrugged at the group. "That's it. Honestly."

Yaslana studied her face, and relaxed at whatever he saw in her eyes. "You were screaming so much, though," he protested after a moment's pause.

"Lucien mentioned that," Arina agreed, voice gentle. "But I don't remember that, nor did I really feel anything to the extent that could have made me scream. Where I was, I only felt twinges of pain, and not that bad even. It was really like I stubbed my toe or something," she reassured.

The room seemed to breath a collective sigh of relief, and a soft chatter started up between several of the girls on the other side of the room, carrying on whatever conversation that they had been holding before Arina and Lucien arrived.

"And now that that's out of the way, I want to know what all you boys have been up to while I had my crash course in Craft and Culture," Arina decided as she struggled to sit up so that she wasn't laying down. Sighing, she accepted both Lucien and Yaslana's hands as they tugged her upright, breathing steadily through the bolt of pain. "And why is this room called the "Rumpus room"?" she added once she could speak again. "Jaenelle was really vague about it."

Yaslana burst out laughing as he headed towards a group of chairs and started pulling them closer to where she was propped up on the couch.

"Well as to that, there really isn't any single Rumpus room, so much," Andulvar told her, grinning widely. "It would be more accurate to say that there is a Rumpus Wing."

"All of the rooms down this hall would be classified as Rumpus Rooms," Jasper elaborated. "But we do different things in each of the rooms, which means that each one has its own specific name. For instance, this is the Rumpus Gathering Room, where we just hang out when we aren't doing anything specific."

"We also have the Rumpus Mural Room, where we paint the walls over and over, the Rumpus Dancing Room, the Music Room, the Craft Room, and so on," Morton said, waving a hand lazily.

"Our parents have just gotten too lazy to keep track of all the specific rooms, so they just started to say that we were in "the Rumpus room" whenever we are up in the wing," Jonathan finished.

"But why is it called the Rumpus Wing? Why not leave the "Rumpus" off?"

"That was what Grandpa Saetan called it when Aunt Jaenelle was growing up, based on what he had heard from below the room. It's where we can be loud and destructive and bang around and not get in trouble for it," Lillian put in with a wicked grin. "So I guess it's just tradition, really."

"Huh. Well, alright then. Tradition is always good," Arina said brightly.

"As for what we've been doing for the past month…" Jonathan shrugged ruefully. "Well, not much good, I'm afraid."

"We've been moping, whining, complaining, fighting each other, and generally making a nuisance of ourselves," Leon laughed. "It's been remarkably boring with all of you girls totally out of contact for a month. I never realized just how often you lot are the ones who think of what to do."

"We wrote!" Emerald protested, glaring at her brother.

"Once," Morton shot at her.

"Twice!" most of the girls chorused, indignant.

"Are you really going to try and pull that?" Yaslana demanded. "Two letters, and we only got the second ones right before you all got her in person, so they don't even count."

"They so too count," Rose growled.

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Children! I feel like I'm back teaching bratty five year olds how to ride and they both think they get a certain horse!" Arina cried. "That is not a good thing! Be quiet!" Both Rose and Yaslana flushed, looking away from each other pointedly. Around the room, the rest of the group snickered helplessly, and Arina glowered between the two teens in question before looking over the room in general. "Why am I getting the distinct feeling that they are twins?" she demanded of the room in general. Jasper and Titan were twins, she knew that, but she hadn't been told if any of the others were twins.

"Because they are," Lucien drawled.

She looked at him sympathetically. "I feel for you," she said solemnly. His lips twitched slightly, and everyone else laughed. She turned back to the rest of the room. "We won't be going on such an extended trip again, however, so it doesn't matter how many letters we did or did not send. As for the low count—well, we were very busy, unlike you who have already admitted to doing nothing. Very busy," she repeated. "We didn't have enough time to write any more than we did, in all reality."

"Unlike you lot, we've been actually having lessons every day—though Arina had more than us, to be sure," Titian said loftily. Arina noted that she failed to mention the shopping trip, and the fact that the rest of the girls did have most mornings off.

Jasper opened his mouth to retort to his sister, but caught the decidedly homicidal glint in Arina's eye and closed it again. While she might not have been able to kill him, Lucien certainly could, and would if Arina wanted. She smiled sweetly at him. "So you all just lazed around and caused trouble, that's what you're saying?" Arina asked, tilting her head to the side so that she could see both Lucien and the rest of the room.

"Nah, Dad would never let us do that," Daemonar said, sprawled out on another couch with Rose sitting comfortably on his stomach. Arina raised an eyebrow and started to smile at the sight. Rose winked at her. "So we trained every morning, and then we just wandered around the Keep, the Hall, Riada, and Halaway—the town by the Hall," the Eyrien continued, not noticing the exchange. "We did…stuff."

"We wasted time and everything," Dmitri muttered.

"You must have had some fun while we were gone," Arina frowned. "Despite what you are saying about being so terribly depressed, it couldn't have been that bad." Gingerly, she leaned back until she was propped against the back of the couch instead of sitting so rigidly upright. It hurt a little bit to put her tender back against a rough surface, but her silk nightgown alleviated that pain, and the relaxing of her muscles as she released that pressure was enough of a relief that it didn't matter that it hurt. She started to relax, unloosening and beginning to feel tired again.

"Wait, where are you going?" Arina demanded as the other girls all started getting to their feet and drifting towards the door. The girl struggled back up to support herself, and leaning forward in a panic.

"We've already caught up with the boys," Astira said. "And now that we know that you are alright, we are going to leave so you can catch up with them yourself, without us around to bug you."

Arina thought about being on her own, injured and unable to move or defend herself, surrounded by overbearing males, and felt her breathing hitch and speed up in response. Closing her eyes, Arina forced herself to take a deep breath, slowly calming herself down. She could handle this—she was strong enough. They weren't going to bite her, or attack her. She wasn't in danger.

Lucien's hand brushed against her shoulder lightly, hesitantly. Her hand went up automatically to catch it, holding his hand to her shoulder without conscious thought. It was surprising to realize how safe she felt in his presence, how reassuring it was to have him behind her. He squeezed gently, and she rallied.

"Have fun," Arina managed, sinking back down into the cushions again. Rose smiled, triumphant, and gave Arina a quick reassuring hug before gliding out the door. Within moments, all the other girls had left, leaving Arina with ten boys. She took another breath, reminding herself to be calm.

"You had to have done something fun," she repeated.

"We went swimming a lot, and rode some," Leon told her, sitting down on a chair that he had brought over to her, copying Yaslana.

"Actually, our parents sent us back to our various homes after the first week, and only let us come back to the Hall to wait three days before you got back," Dmitri said. "Having the lot of us here was causing trouble, so our elders decided to split us up and minimize the damage, spread it out."

"And we did in fact go home and terrorize our various Territories," Farostel admitted. "I'm pretty sure that most of us indulged in violent activities while we worried and wondered. I hunted, though I didn't really catch much."

"We really didn't do anything productive in the past three weeks," Yaslana sighed. "Eventually Mom and Dad gave up on our lessons when we weren't paying any attention. They just kicked us out of the Hall every morning."

"Same with me," Jonathon said to general agreement. "So while you were getting ahead in all of your lessons, we started falling behind in ours. Which is bad, because we finish our lessons before you do. Males go until eighteen, females until twenty."

"How did your actual lessons go?" Jasper asked.

"Well, they went." Arina shrugged stiffly. "They wasn't as hard as I thought they were going to be, surprisingly. I already knew the information from Lorn, I just wasn't able to access all the knowledge he gave me at once, because having so much suddenly in my mind would have caused damage. But when my lessons started, it was like my teachers were just reminding me of what I already knew, and everything sort of just "came back" to me." She smiled. "I still need more lessons to refine what I know and learn more, because I know that there is still a lot that I don't know, but I won't need as many lessons as I should when starting from scratch."

"That's great!" Morton exclaimed.

"Why do I only take lessons until I'm twenty?" Arina asked, remembering what Jonathon had said. "And why do you only take them until you are eighteen?"

"Because that's when Queens make the Offering to the Darkness and form their courts," Lucien told her, shifting slightly. "And that's when males usually make the Offering and are eligible to join a court."

"Err—how old are you, actually? You look about seventeen, but we never asked," Daemonar blurted out, blushing. Lucien stiffened, and everyone looked curious.

Arina stared at him. "I am seventeen," she said at last. "My birthday is August 13th. I'm a Leo," she said, adding the last bit almost automatically and then flushing a little. It was really pointless knowledge, but she had always been interested in the Zodiac and was just too used to classifying people by their signs, even though she didn't believe that they actually mattered.

"What's a Leo?" Farostel asked her, claiming the other arm of her couch. Lucien glowered at him briefly, but the Dea al Mon ignored the other male, focusing instead on the Queen.

Arina would have buried her face in her hands or her knees if she was willing to move enough for it. A little bit reluctantly, she started to explain. "Leo is one of twelve zodiac signs, or astrological symbols. The signs are based on a person's birthday—for instance, Leo runs from about July 23 to August 22. Anyone who has a birthday within those dates would be considered a Leo. The signs supposedly say something about personality types, and there are even these things called 'horoscopes' which supposedly tell that is going to happen to you. They're really vague, though, so of course you could 'Find a meaningful relationship in the next year.' Honestly, those are supposed to actually tell you what is going to happen?" Arina smirked, finishing her rant. The boys looked either amused or confused, unsurprisingly. "It's nothing real, just a joke really, but I did a school project on the zodiacs, so I know quite a bit about them."

"And what does being a Leo say about your personality?" Dmitri asked.

"Leo's are charismatic leaders, and they seek adventures. They like to be in the middle of everything, take charge kind of people. Leo's are noted for personal pride. Fire is the element associated with Leo, and they are ruled by the Sun. The animal symbol of Leo is the lion," Arina recited primly.

There was a thoughtful pause as the boys absorbed this. "Makes sense, seeing as you are the Queen," Morton acknowledged after a moment.

"But I had never been a leader of any kind before coming here to the Realms," she countered. "I was always more of a doormat back on Earth."

"You were charismatic, though," Yaslana said. "When Mom wove her Web to find you, there were people coming to find you for all sorts of things."

Arina raised an eyebrow at the male. "Yes, because they paid me to do their work, do their homework, or get around the rules, or other things. I was a doormat, who didn't know how to say no to people. Make no mistake, I was no charismatic leader." She snorted in amusement.

"At least you've come into yourself now," Farostel said reasonably. Arina smiled reluctantly at him, pleased despite herself at the reassurance. Arina yawned and let her head fall back against the couch. A buzz of concern brushed over her, created by the collective psychic fear of the teens, before Lucien reassured the others.

"Mom says that she will be sleeping a lot for the next week while she recovers. Her body needs the rest to heal properly. It's only to be expected, after all."

"I'm like a big, pretty baby," Arina drawled, closing her eyes tiredly. 'It's naptime, now."

Lucien laughed, and ran his fingers through her hair gently. Arina rolled her head over toward his hand obligingly, sighing in pleasure as he combed through her tresses. The rest of the room looked away for a moment, feeling like it was a private moment that they shouldn't interrupt.

Lucien shifted so that he was sitting on the seat of the couch next to Arina, and she dropped her head onto his shoulder with a soft sigh, curling her body towards his slowly.

"Arina, lay down. It will be more comfortable for you to sleep that way," the Warlord Prince coaxed. The Queen growled at him without moving in response.

On the other end of the couch, Farostel chuckled and used Craft to float Arina up without warning. Arina yelped in shock, lifting her head up sharply to glare at him.

"Relax," Farostel laughed, carefully setting her down very gently so that she was laying down on her stomach. Her wings spread out somewhat, one draped over the back of the couch and the other one spread out on the floor, between Yaslana and Leon's chairs. Her head was cradled in Lucien's lap, and Farostel moved off the arm of the couch onto the seat and laid her legs over his lap.

She lifted her head lazily and twisted to see him. "If you tickle my feet," she warned, "I will kill you slowly and painfully. And I will enjoy it."

"Understood," Farostel replied demurely, to general amusement. Now was not a good time to remind her that threats like that shouldn't be made seriously, according to the rules of the court. Not while she was injured and had her feet so close to his groin.

Lucien resumed stroking her hair in order to distract her, and within moments the girl was literally purring. Lucien, Yaslana, Leon and Farostel were the only ones near enough to hear it, and they all made a mental note to be far away when Arina finally met Kaelas and the other Arcerians. They would probably get along like a house on fire, and it would either go really well, or really badly.

The room went quiet. Morton and Jonathon began setting up a game of chess, Leon drifting over to join them and play the winner. Yaslana called in a book and a large pillow, setting himself down beside the couch. Arina let her arm fall down to rest on him after a moment, and he hummed slightly. Everyone in the room was beginning quiet activities or drifting off to sleep themselves so that they wouldn't disturb Arina as she fell asleep.

BJT:ANW

A few hours later Arina stirred and lifted her head up, looking around the room blearily.

Dmitri and Jonathon had fallen asleep on the couch closest to the door, feet tangled in the middle as they were both on opposite ends. Yaslana was sleeping on the floor right in front of her, slumped against the couch with his legs stretched out. Morton and Leon were collapsed in chairs in the middle of the room, a chess game half played between them.

Daemonar was spread out over a whole couch, snoring softly with a hunting knife clenched in one hand. His younger brother Andulvar was curled up in a ball on another couch.

Arina momentarily wondered just how stressed out they had been over her, for them all to be so very tired right now.

That left Lucien and Farostel. Turning her head, Arina found herself staring at Lucien's chest from where she was laying on him while he slept. Turning her head had triggered a tugging sensation, and she realized that his fingers were tangled in her hair. Turning her head more carefully this time, she looked toward the other end of the couch and her feet, meeting Farostel's pale blue eyes. He was the only male awake, and Arina had the shrewd suspicion that he had been watching her sleep. The Queen shrugged mentally, recognizing that there were some things about her boys that she would never be able to change.

"Is it morning?" she rasped questioningly, whispering.

Farostel shook his head and replied in a voice that was equally quiet. "You've only been asleep for two hours or so. It's almost eleven at night. How are you feeling?" he added.

Arina yawned as she mentally felt her way down her body. "Sore, and hungry. Very hungry," she decided. "Feed me."

The male chuckled. "Do you want me to take you down to the kitchens to get something to eat, or have me call and have something sent up?" he asked her.

"Whatever is faster," she muttered decidedly. She slowly reached up and began to very gently tug her hair out of Lucien's fingers.

"I'll take you down to the kitchen so you can chose whatever you want," Farostel decided quietly. "And that way, we won't have to worry about waking anyone else up, either," he added. Lifting her feet up, he shifted around to get out from under them and moved to stand in front of her. Once she had separated her hair from Lucien's fingers, Farostel picked her up bridal style and threaded through the sleeping males toward the door silently.

The lamps in the halls had all been turned off, leaving them to move through a pitch black space. Arina wrapped her arms around Farostel's neck when he started down the stairs and closed her eyes. She seemed to have perfect night vision, and she just didn't want to see what might happen. Their clothes rustled and made the only noise as they walked, adding to the creepy factor, in Arina's opinion.

In order to distract herself, Arina started humming "I am iron man" under her breath as they went, causing Farostel to raise an eyebrow inquisitively. Soon enough Farostel stopped in the door of a large, brightly lit kitchen. Arina squinted for a moment as her eyes adjusted before spotting the large woman that was moving around inside the room, putting plates on the large counter in the middle of the space.

Farostel cleared his throat in a nervous kind of way, and Arina gave him an astonished look. He made a face at her quickly before saying, "Thank you, Mrs. Beale."

The woman turned around and Arina blinked slowly at the stern looking older woman. Her eyes drifted down to the meat cleaver the woman was carrying and stayed there. Suddenly, she wasn't so sure about this late night snack plan and completely understood why he was nervous. Her grip on Farostel's neck tightened into something that had to be painful, but he gave no indication of pain.

"So, this is the young Lady," the cook boomed, giving Arina a measuring look. She made a small sound at the back of her throat, still watching the knife in horrified fascination. She looked up to meet the woman's eyes with an effort.

"Hello," Arina greeted. "It's very nice to meet you." Her eyes slid over the knife again before settling on the plates, and her stomach growled, causing her to set aside her nerves in order to focus on the food. "Will you please feed me now, before I start eating people?" she added sweetly, smiling widely and showing fangs. To her vast disappointment, the woman only blinked, but she did put the knife down as she turned to get another plate, her face softening.

"Come sit down," Mrs. Beale directed, pointing to a stool in front of the counter. Farostel carried her in and set her down after calling in a cushion for the stool. Arina rolled her eyes fondly. Then the male leaned against the counter and watched in amazement as Arina, a slender and compact girl who looked like a strong wind could blow her over at the moment, devoured in short order a roast, part of a chicken, an apple pie, eleven brownies, a bowl of beef stew, and half a lasagna.

"Wow," he managed, shaking his head. Even Mrs. Beale looked a bit taken aback, though definitely pleased.

Pushing away the plate with the remnants of the lasagna, Arina put a hand on her stomach and smiled in relief. "Thank you so much for doing this for me, Mrs. Beale," she said. "I really appreciate it, considering the time."

"Not at all," the cook declared. "Lady Angelline warned me that you would be needing quite a lot of food in the next week. Though I wasn't expecting that," she muttered to herself, taking the plate to a sink. "I'll bake extra just for you tomorrow," she concluded. "Now you should be sleeping, young Lady. Off to bed with you, out!" she added, waving her meat cleaver at Arina, who just blinked. She was too full and satisfied to be worried about the knife—besides, Mrs. Beale was a nice woman.

"Call me Arina," the girl insisted. Mrs. Beale waved a hand in acknowledgement as she hustled Farostel over to the door once he had scooped Arina up. Leaving the kitchen behind, Arina wished that she could walk on her own. Being carried all the time was going to get really annoying really fast.

Farostel was carrying her up the last flight of stairs back to the Gathering room when a blast of fear hit her.

*Arina!* Lucien's shout echoed through her mind.

*What is it?* she demanded, jerking forward in Farostel's arms. His grip tightened on her as his predatory nature rose up swiftly in response to her agitation. She put a hand on his chest to still him as she focused on Lucien. *What's the matter?* she repeated.

*Where are you?* there was an edge of fear and fury in his psychic voice, and Arina automatically sent a soothing wave back at him. She had to pause for a moment and take a deep breath so that she wouldn't respond with the irritation she was beginning to feel as she realized why he was so upset though.

*Farostel is taking me back upstairs,* she sent. *We had gone down to the kitchen because I was hungry enough to eat a horse, and we didn't want to wake anyone up.* Arina sighed and turned to Farostel.

"Better get moving," she said dryly. "Lucien is awake and very unhappy."

The Dea al Mon male gave her a wry look that said you think? He leaped up the remaining stairs and stalked down the hall grimly. At the end, the Gathering room door slammed open and Lucien filled up the entrance, eyes glazed and fixed on Farostel. Behind him in the room, there were crashes and curses as the other boys were woken up by the crash of the door or the biting chill emitting from the furious Black Jeweled Warlord Prince. Arina groaned.

Farostel stopped a good five feet away from Lucien, wary of getting any closer. Ice fanned out toward Farostel from Lucien's feet, and in the room all noise stopped. No one was willing to risk moving and drawing attention to themselves. Both Warlord Princes rose to the killing edge as they stared at each other.

"Lucien," Arina said firmly. There was no reaction from the golden-eyed male, but a snarl built in Farostel's chest in response to Lucien's lethal stillness. Arina growled. "Prince," she repeated. This time when she spoke, there was a double timber to her voice—an echo that was both a low growl-purr and a high pitched cry—like a bird of prey. Farostel and Lucien both blinked and turned their attention on her, along with Daemonar and Yaslana, who were the only ones willing to get near enough to Lucien in this state to see around him through the door. "I was in no danger," she continued in the same voice. "And no one has contested your claims. Pax," she said forcefully, the Latin coming automatically. "Enough."

"I would have gotten you something to eat," Lucien said eventually, voice tight and a little pained as he descended from the killing edge. Still, the chill in the air faded, and the ice retreated, vanishing quickly as the hallway heated up again.

Arina pressed a hand to Farostel's chest, claws coming out and pricking through his shirt lightly. It was a silent command to calm down and step back, and he subsided, slipping away from the killing edge after a moment. Satisfied, she turned back to Lucien, her face more gentle. "You were asleep. I didn't want to wake you up, especially because I know that you were awake for the two days or so that I was unconscious. You needed the sleep—it was nothing personal, Lucien."

Lucien sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking away.

"You still need the sleep," Arina said critically. She looked hard at him, taking in the bags under his eyes and the set of his shoulders. Abruptly, she yawned. "So do I," she admitted.

Lucien looked up and was standing right in front of Farostel in a heartbeat. The Dea al Mon jerked back slightly in an automatic response, before reluctantly handing Arina over to the other male. Arina reached up and kissed him on the cheek quickly. "Thanks for getting me some food," she told him with a smile. Farostel smiled back, and Lucien wasted no time in walking off down the hallway in a snit. Arina waved over his shoulder and called "good night!" to all the other boys, who enthusiastically waved back before heading off to their own beds. Lucien didn't relax until they turned the corner and cut off from all the others.

"Do I have a room here?" Arina asked him, leaning against his chest.

"Of course," Lucien said in surprise. Then, understanding, he said, "But when you were injured, they brought you into my room because it was closer, and by the time the Healing was finished, Mom said that you shouldn't be moved at all until you woke up."

Arina nodded thoughtfully. "I see. Where is my room, then?"

"You have the Queen's room in an empty wing. The Aunts have spent the last month setting up the garden in the central courtyard," he told her. "That's where you will be able to stay when you visit, with rooms around you for your court if they came with you."

"The Queen's room—the master bedroom?" she checked.

"If you mean the largest and best, then yes."

Arina considered the lessons that she had received from Karla and Jaenelle about being a Queen, and the things that she had been taught by Lorn. "Does it have an adjourning Consort's room?" she asked slyly.

Lucien faltered for a heartbeat. "Yes."

"And is it empty?"

Lucien opened the door that they had come to with Craft to avoid answering, crossed the room and placed her gently on the bed. Seeing the bags sitting against the far wall, Arina floated one over to her and pulled out a tiny silk nightgown. Lucien swallowed. Giggling, Arina ducked under the covers, vanished her clothes and carefully used Craft to put on the nightgown before coming back out. Lucien swallowed again, turning away quickly.

"Well?" she prompted.

"Um…" the Warlord Prince seemed to struggle for words, something that he was obviously unaccustomed to doing. "Yes, of course. It will remain empty until such a time that you choose a Consort." His eyes flickered to a door to the left of her bed. Clearing his throat somewhat desperately, Lucien turned towards the door. "I'll just go then," he mumbled.

"Wait," Arina called, sitting back up and pulling the sheets around her. Black silk—very nice. She felt kind of bad for teasing him, realizing that it wasn't a joke to him. "Wait," she repeated, and Lucien paused and turned back to face her. She beckoned him towards her, simultaneously saying "Come here a minute. No, sit down. I have something for you. I got it at the market, before we headed here. Karla and Jaenelle took us out shopping," she rambled as Lucien sat down on the edge of the bed and gave her a curious, hopeful look.

"You bought me a present?" he asked.

"Well…" Arina fidgeted with the blanket. "We didn't have much time to get to know each other, and I realize that leaving like I did probably wasn't very nice to you, so I wanted to make up for it." Taking a deep breath, she called in the gold foil wrapped package and thrust it into his hands. "Here," she blurted out, blushing.

Slowly, Lucien turned the package over and painstakingly unwrapped it. Then he just stared at the pair of black bracelets. Picking up the male bracelet, he turned it in his hands to see every symbol before doing the same thing to the female one. Finally, he looked back up at Arina, somewhat stunned.

"I…Do you know what these symbols mean?" he asked, voice husky.

"Yes, the Black Widow told me," she murmured. "Strength, Protector, Power, Love, Faith, Service, Trust, and Hope on this one," she said, lightly tracing over his bracelet. "And Hope, Love, Trust, Faith, Power, Peace, and Wisdom on this." She finished, tracing the symbols on hers. Arina looked back up at Lucien, who stared back at her, expressionless. "Nevermind," she mumbled, looking down at her lap. "I'm sorry, I just thought—"

Lucien wrapped his arms around her tightly and buried his face in her hair. "Don't be sorry," he said fiercely. "I love it, I love them, I was just surprised," he explained. "I wasn't expecting anything, let alone—" he stopped, shaking his head, not sure what to say.

"On Earth," Arina began, "When a pair enters into a relationship they often exchange presents. Friendship bracelets are most common, when best friends wear identical bracelets as a symbol of their friendship. When a couple is dating, from what I've seen, boys usually give girls jewelry, but—" she stopped and collected herself. "Here the woman has to initiate things, I get that. And, well, I like you. A lot," she muttered, glad that he couldn't see her face. "And I wanted something to show that we were together. And then I saw these, and I thought that they would be perfect. Something that I'm familiar with from my past, but that also fits well here," she finished, trailing off.

Lucien pulled back and tilted her face up with a finger. "You like me," he repeated, studying her face with hope. When she nodded as best she could with his finger under her chin, he smiled brilliantly. "Does that mean I get to kiss you?" he asked wickedly.

Arina's heart and stomach started doing backflips. "Maybe," she said warily.

Lucien picked up her bracelet and took her arm. "May I?" he asked formally. Helplessly, she nodded. He fastened the bracelet around her wrist, and the woven silk—the same material used in a Black Widow's web—settled around her wrist like it had always been there. She snatched Lucien's bracelet before he could pick it up and held it, reaching possessively for his arm. He gave it to her with a smile, and let her put his bracelet on him.

"Your mark on me, and mine on you," she murmured. There was a moment of silence as Lucien watched her eying the bracelets on their wrists with open pleasure.

"May I kiss you now?" Lucien murmured.

"I never took you as one for asking permission," she returned lightly. Eyes gleaming brightly, he reached for her without any further questions, and she gasped slightly when he touched her face lightly. It felt different, now, she reflected. Then she couldn't think anymore when his lips touched hers, delicately at first.

She threw her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss turned hot and possessive, devouring. She couldn't think—if someone asked her what her name was in that moment she wouldn't have been able to answer to save her life. Finally, she pulled back, gasping for air. Lucien turned his attention on her neck, kissing his way down her throat to her collar as she struggled to breathe.

Eventually her head cleared somewhat, though every time she thought about what Lucien was doing she forgot everything all over again. "Lucien, wait," she managed. Obviously reluctant, he stopped kissing her, but didn't move from where he had his head buried in the crook of her neck.

"Why?" he mumbled, hot breath brushing over her skin. For a moment her mind went blank, but she chased down her thoughts and stamped on them.

"It's late, and we're tired," she reasoned.

"Oh, no I'm not," he muttered.

"Yes," she insisted. "Lucien, we have time. I don't want to rush to fast now. I want to enjoy this, and I am tired, Lucien. I'm about to fall over," she added, pressing her advantage.

Groaning, Lucien sat up and looked at her. The heated glow in his eyes almost made her change her mind, but common sense reared its head. It would just be too humiliating if she fell asleep on him.

"Go to bed," she insisted. He glanced suggestively at her huge new bed, and she blushed again. "Your bed," she amended. "Please?"

Sighing, the male stood up and went reluctantly to the door, opening it but hovering in the door. "Goodnight, Lady Arina," he murmured.

"Goodnight, Prince Lucien," she whispered. Then, before she could lose her nerve, she added "Dream of me," and hastily used Craft to slam the door shut and lock it. She heard him lean against the door for a moment before walking away.

The Queen fell back against her bed and smiled to herself, knowing that her smile was silly stupid. She didn't care. For the first time, she really looked forward to the morning.

BJT:ANW

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