Perian Manor, Iftanzel…

Xensor sat back in his chair, his eyes roaming over the missive in his hands. He felt the muscles of his face twitching his lips into a smile.

"Good news, my lord?" asked a voice to his left.

Xensor glanced up at his Lieutenant. Londrel was an earnest soul, perhaps a bit too earnest. He was probably Xensor's greatest find… a young officer who saw the pitfalls of the present situation and chafed at the humiliation his people had to endure. Although never a member of the Naruvian Legion, Londrel Perian was known to the King and his generals as a competent, if uninspired soldier.

While the former members of the Naruvian Legion were happy to fall into Xensor's plans, he knew that he needed elements of the regular Iftanzel Army to carry out his scheme and bring it to its full fruition. He spent over a year testing the waters with various officers, from generals to mere lieutenants, with disappointing results. Most of the higher-ranking members of the military were all too happy to follow Caelan's precepts, perhaps not surprising considering they'd faced Jareth on the battlefield before. Some were loathe to provoke another war with the Goblin Kingdom under any circumstances and while they considered their dependence on Jareth for their species' survival to be humiliating, it wasn't enough to overcome their basic fear of getting into another fight with him.

Xensor had then turned his attention to the minor officers, thinking that the folly and hubris of youth might lead them to be more daring in their ambitions. This was greeted with mixed results, as a disturbing majority of them also fell into Caelan's plans for a more civilized discourse. While not exactly friendly to the Goblins, the vast majority of the young soldiers also held little antipathy toward them and had no enthusiasm for fighting them. At least… not unless provoked in the extreme.

Londrel on the other hand was a student of history, one who looked back at the past with an almost reverent idealism. He had a deep desire to bring back the glory days of the Fae, when their dominance over the Underground had been undisputed. He was one of the very few younger Fae who viewed the rise of the Goblin Kingdom as a threat in and of itself.

While most Fae were unconcerned with the idea of being in Jareth's debt for their species' survival (in fact many seemed to actually be grateful to the bastard), there were some who saw it the same way that Xensor did. Unfortunately, those that had those opinions were few and far between, and those that did make themselves known were largely relegated to minor roles, their influence minimal.

Londrel managed to keep a lid on his resentment of the Goblins, at least publicly, and after a mundane career as a foot soldier he had finally been given a command and an estate of his own. This lovely manor was situated perfectly, right near the border with the Goblin Kingdom. It was much larger than those usually allotted to minor officers, large enough to have a small town attached to it and encircling defensive walls. This in itself wasn't surprising given its proximity to the Goblin Kingdom, but the fact that it was given to such a minor lieutenant should have raised a few brows back in Haorsham. The only reason it passed beneath the notice of the higher ranks was because it was done so quietly. Promotions of this sort were usually celebrated publicly, with much pomp and circumstance, but this one was not. As soon as the order had been given to raise Londrel's rank, Xensor contacted his agent within the Hall of Records, ensuring that the lands they would issue were suitable for the next stage of his plan. That the manor was one that should have gone to an under-general as opposed to a lieutenant hadn't become common knowledge in Haorsham, thus no one was the wiser.

Xensor's cohorts gained ground in other ways as well. He had several installed as servants at the Palace, and they were invaluable for letting him know which nobles were open to turning. They were also useful in disseminating false information. When the time was right, Xensor knew he had at least a contingent of influencers in Haorsham that would back him in the upcoming battle.

His smile now fully manifest, he allowed some merriment to creep into his voice. "Why yes, Londrel… good news. It appears that the first phase of our plan is going to happen a little sooner than we'd anticipated."

"How much sooner?" asked Londrel.

"Within the next few days," replied Xensor.

Londrel frowned, his expression somewhat clouded. "That doesn't give us much time to get our assets in place. What if…?"

"They know what they're doing, Londrel. We've gone over this plan for months. I have anticipated every contingency. Whether it happens now or a year from now, it doesn't matter."

"You've… chosen the operatives?" asked Londrel, a note of unease in his voice.

"I have. The two that will be left behind are of no use to you. Or me, for that matter. But in their deaths, they will be contributing to the greater cause."

Londrel's face looked somber, almost sad. "I wish there was another way…"

"I don't like this any more than you do," said Xensor. "But we have to do it. There must be no mistake, no uncertainty, as to what took place." At this, Xensor met Londrel's gaze with an earnest sorrow that he didn't feel. The two oafs he'd referenced were worse than useless… they were incompetent. They would do nicely as a sacrifice to the cause, and a catalyst to its inception.

Londrel nodded, "I… suppose you are correct. And when this is all over, we can honor them as the heroes they are."

Hiding his contempt behind a sympathetic mask, Xensor nodded. "And they will be heroes, Londrel. To Iftanzel. To all the Fae. And they will be honored as such."

"Then I shall give the order to move them into position," said Londrel as he bowed smartly, then turned on his heel and left the room.

Yes… they'll be heroes all right. They will do their part to strip Jareth of his allies and make him the pariah he should always have been.

No Fae would even consider treating with Jareth after this. And his 'allies' would desert him like rats leaving a sinking ship. And Caelan… he was going to get a lesson in taking threats seriously. Taking Xensor seriously.

Images flashed in Xensor's mind. Caelan's rage. The wave of anger that would sweep through the Army… through all the Fae. He pictured Jareth's face when he received word of his allies turning on him. Idly, he imagined how satisfying it would be to have the Goblin King ensconced in the deepest dungeon of Haorsham…

And how should I plan your execution, Goblin King? Beheading is too good for you… maybe I'll take your Queen right in your sight before I slit her throat…

Lost in the fantasies playing out in his mind, Xensor laughed aloud.

Meanwhile, in Casleán Caladh…

Damn. Why did I choose these shoes?

Helena smothered a grimace as she executed the next move in the dance. Her feet were killing her, and as the evening was winding down, that pain only became more acute. While she usually looked forward to opportunities to dress up and celebrate, the fact that this ball was in honor of her majority (and Tremane's) had somewhat soured her usual enjoyment of such festivities.

Mom had a thing for celebrating birthdays, a yearly occurrence and one that was unknown in the Goblin Kingdom before she married Dad. Sarah had been able to implement a lot of human traditions Below, and usually with the connivance (if not outright approval) of Jareth himself. This one was a bit much, given the long lives of the Goblins. Dad had been able to at least convince Mom to keep the big celebrations to each decade, as opposed to each year. Still, on the anniversary of her children's births, Sarah managed to at least have a private family party, with a special cake and presents. Helena liked the private parties and even enjoyed the ten-year celebrations, at least up until this one.

Her ambivalence towards the party itself was what landed her in her present predicament. Mom had decided that she needed a special ballgown for the celebration, something Helena gave an internal eyeroll at, and had pestered her for days about the design, the colors and the trimming. In exasperation, Helena had picked red velvet with gold embroidery, something she knew would irritate her mother for its tastelessness, if for no other reason. So here she was, clad in a dress that looked like it was taken from the upholstery of a Fae carriage, wearing shoes that she'd just thrust her feet into without looking. Those shoes were now a source of misery, having been ones she'd worn decades ago. She shared some of her father's hoarding tendencies in that she didn't like to discard items that still had use, but the fact that she hadn't just given the shoes away when they didn't fit anymore was a suitable reminder to clean out her closet in the next few days.

"Is dancing with me such a nightmare, Honeybee?" asked Jareth.

Helena glanced up at her father, whose smirk was rather infectious. She gave a little laugh, shaking her head. "No, Dad. It's these shoes… they're the real nightmare."

Jareth's laugh joined hers. "As I recall, your mother had a similar complaint, once upon a time. She didn't miss an opportunity to kick off her shoes the moment she sat down. I think she still does it, up on the dais."

Helena glanced over at Mom, who was sitting on her throne and looking out over the ballroom floor. She caught Helena's gaze, returning it with a soft smile. Helena smiled back.

"I wanted to thank you… for tolerating this, to make your mother happy," said Jareth. At Helena's startled look, he squeezed her hand. "I know that you don't like to be the center of attention this way. Yet, you put up with it because you know it means a lot to your mother." Jareth gave a long, almost melancholy sigh. "In a sense… this is the last one. The last birthday party she gets to throw. It saddens her, which is why she made this one so… extravagant. To her, it is the last thing she can do for you as your mother… at least as far as your childhood is concerned."

At this, Helena felt a bit guilty about the way she'd brushed off Sarah's attempt at bonding over her ballgown. She made a mental note to do something special for her mother, maybe set aside a day where it could just be the two of them…

She was torn from her thoughts when the song came to an end and Dad executed an elegant bow. She curtsied mechanically, feeling the pinch of her shoes as she did so. Dad led her back to one of the chairs that ringed the ballroom, winking at her mischievously as she instantly kicked off her shoes upon sitting down.

As Dad walked back to the dais, Helena took the opportunity to scan the room. Her eyes drifted over the other couples on the dance floor without really registering them. At least, they did until they came to rest on Tremane, who was standing across the room chatting with Anduin and Erynne. She couldn't stop the sigh that escaped her as she beheld him, her eyes eating up the sight of him in his fancy black velvet. Ordinarily, he had absolutely no fashion sense, preferring to wear plain, unornamented clothing which was a stark contrast to his father Garthan. Even his brother Anduin dressed more smartly in his everyday life than Tremane did, so to see him in such finery was quite a treat.

Not that it mattered, really. He looked equally delicious in undyed wool as he did in black velvet.

As if sensing her gaze, he turned to look at her. It never failed to amaze Helena how he could affect her, even after all these years. Whenever their eyes met, it felt like an impact to her gut. The touch of his hand on hers was enough to send tingles of excitement running through her, even if the touch was casual. She could only imagine what it would feel like if he…

Stop it, Helena. Get your mind out of the gutter…

But it wasn't the gutter, not really. After all, she was an adult now. As was he. There was nothing to stop them if they wanted to spend the night together. It was no one's business if she decided to carry him off to her rooms after the ball and…

Some of her thoughts must have shown on her face, because Tremane's expression instantly turned into one that stole the breath from Helena's body. After a quick nod to his companions, he started walking towards her, his lips twitching into that sexy, teasing smile he did so well. Helena was spellbound, watching him walk toward her. Almost in a daze, she held out her hand, which he took, then kissed her knuckles. The electric sensation from his lips to her heart was overwhelming. She didn't even realize that he'd pulled her out of her chair and was guiding her towards the dance floor, at least until her bare feet touched the cold marble.

"Uh… Tremane… I…"

"This party is winding down, Hellcat," he said with low, sultry voice. "You don't think I'll let you get away without another dance, do you?"

"It's not that… I…"

He put his lips to her ear, his warm breath causing shivers to cascade down her spine. "Then, what is it?"

"I'm not wearing my shoes," she said in a whisper.

He drew back a moment, startled, then glanced to where she had been sitting. Right there, under her chair were her shoes, cast aside after she'd danced with her father. She felt the chuckle going through him as he held her. "I won't tell if you don't," he whispered back.

The magic of the music then swept them away. If asked, Helena couldn't have identified the song if she'd been paid a treasure trove to do so. She was lost in the feel of his strong arms around her, that tantalizing scent of spice, rosemary and magic wafting up to tease her senses. She was caught in his gaze, drifting on a wave of emotion that had been building within her for years. For some reason, everything made sense when she was this close to him, all was made clear, and she could feel her heart beating in time with his. She could vaguely discern the approving looks of the crowd around them, but for once, it didn't matter. All that mattered was this man, this moment.

Somehow, they were on the balcony… Helena would never recall just how he managed that. One moment, they were dancing and the next… she was seated on a bench, his arms still around her. Her head spun with an almost intoxicated languor, and in that moment, all she wanted was his lips on hers.

He had never kissed her before, and while she had wanted him to on several occasions, he had hesitated to follow through. Almost as if he wasn't sure she would welcome it. This time however, there was no hesitation. He touched her face, letting his thumb ghost over her lips before tipping her chin up and kissing her gently. She sighed in satisfaction, the kiss sparking little shocks of heat all through her. Her hands came up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. He deepened the kiss, his tongue caressing hers, and she let out an involuntary moan at the exquisite sensation. Those shocks of heat were now waves, her breath becoming short and gasping as his lips worked their magic.

How long they sat there kissing, Helena didn't know. He pulled back a bit, his own breath just as harsh and strained as her own. His expression seemed to carry the same dazed pleasure that she could feel shining from her eyes. In that moment… he was perfect. Everything was perfect…

Until he reached in his pocket. Her gaze was drawn down to his hand, and for a moment, she blinked, not believing what her eyes were telling her.

He was holding out a courting token.

Instantly, her body felt a rush of what she could only describe as ice water. She blinked again, hoping that she wasn't seeing what she knew she was seeing. Her mind exploded into chaos, and without thinking, she leapt to her feet.

Wait… but what about… wait…

Suffused with panic, she looked at him with horror.

No… not yet… oh no…

She didn't realize she was backing away, at least not until she saw the flash of hurt in his eyes. She couldn't stop, her mind and body all a jumble of fear and confusion.

Without a word, she turned and fled.

Well, jackass… you're definitely your father's son, thought Tremane as he watched Helena flee.

He'd heard about his parents' courtship, how his father had accidentally stabbed his mother with the courting token he was presenting to her. He'd watched as Anduin sent his lady love the most inappropriate flowers a suitor could possibly send, and laughed his ass off for good measure. He'd taken pride in the fact that he wasn't as diffident and bashful as they were (as Helena once said, he didn't have a shy bone in his body) and had thought he possessed enough finesse to win his heart-mate quite handily. And in the true Miriso tradition, he'd managed to screw it up most royally.

It was his own fault, really. He'd gotten carried away with emotion during their kiss. The funny thing about it is if he'd simply suggested going back to his room and tumbling for the night, she probably would have agreed with alacrity. But no… he let his love and desire for her kick his brain right out of his head and managed to do the one thing that was guaranteed to scare her off.

He'd meant to talk to her… tell her of his love for her (which would not be a surprise) and that he fully intended to support her in her dreams, that he was committed to her, and that he only sought a similar commitment. Had he done it that way, he had the feeling that she would have accepted. Instead, without a word of preamble, he'd pulled out the token like a lovesick fool, making her think that he wanted to tie her down with marriage and children on the very day they became adults.

Idiot. You have to explain things to her. She takes everything at face value. You know that. You know her.

Well, it wasn't a complete disaster. She obviously returned his feelings, so there was that. And knowing her as he did, he knew she was going to sequester herself for a while. She'd likely avoid him for the next couple of days while everything rattled around in her head. She'd piece things together eventually and would seek him out to talk about it. She had some hard edges, certainly, but she was also fair-minded, like her mother. She'd give him the chance to explain because she'd think she owed it to him to do so. The trick was, he had to be patient and let her come to him when she was ready. Pestering her would only make it take longer.

Yes, he'd get the opportunity to explain what he wanted, from life and from her. He had no doubt they would come to some sort of arrangement that she would be comfortable with. It hurt that she'd panicked so, but it was a pain of his own doing.

Patience. At the moment, it was really all he needed to have. Everything else would come with time.

Jareth had seen Helena's flight from the ballroom the previous night, followed a few moments later by a grim-faced Tremane. It was late enough in the evening that the party was winding down, thus the absence of the guests of honor elicited no general comment. It was obvious that there had been some sort of falling out, but he wasn't exactly sure what had happened.

Jacen was relatively easy to read, if only because he was so like Sarah. Karina was just like Jareth himself, which made her similarly easy to read, and she was always eager to confide her secrets to him. Helena was different. He could ask her, certainly… and she'd likely just raise a brow and tell him quite sweetly that it wasn't his business. She kept everything so close to the chest that it was maddening sometimes. Probably the only person she ever really confided in was Tremane, and from the look of it, there was trouble in paradise.

He sighed to himself in exasperation. He loved her with all his heart, like all his children, but sometimes… he just didn't understand her. Sarah had once told him that Helena was the female reincarnation of her father, Robert Williams. She certainly got her drive from him. But that same tenacity made her a little abrasive, too. It was almost like she expected conflict from her family when none was actually there.

Thus, it was a surprise when this morning she had come to ask him if she could go to the Lakehouse for a while. After what had happened to Jacen and the Boys up near Silverton, the decision was made to construct a new retreat closer to home. Situated up in the mountains near Caladh, it was a lovely little cabin nestled in the woods beside a crystal blue lake. He and Sarah would retreat there on occasion for some alone time, as did Garthan and Lily, and all of the kids would go there when they wanted a little time away. While Helena no longer needed his permission to go where she chose, it was prudent to make sure no one else had plans to go up there at the same time she wanted to. He knew that if he pressed her for more details, she would refuse to share; so, he simply gave his assent. She gave him a crooked smile and a kiss on the cheek before going back to her room to pack.

After she'd left, Jareth walked over to his study, Garthan having called a security meeting. Jacen was already there, as were Randel, Toby, and Anduin. Garthan was but a moment behind Jareth. He looked a bit preoccupied, as if something was poking him in the back and irritating him. He had a feeling it had to do with Helena, Tremane, and the party last night.

"What's got you into such a mood, Garthan?" he asked. Garthan blinked at him for a moment, as if he hadn't realized his face was displaying his preoccupation.

"Kids. Tell me, Jareth… were we ever as complicated as our offspring are?" This was said as they walked into the study together. Anduin apparently overheard the remark and chuckled. Garthan looked at him with a smirk, "You… you were easy. Your sister…" He shot a mischievous look over at Toby, "Well, aside from her choice in heart-mate, she was simple too."

"Ah, it wasn't her choice in heart-mate, it was his age if I recall," said Anduin with a matching smirk while Toby chuckled softly. "Which I believe was resolved to everyone's satisfaction. But if I had to guess, you're not complaining about me or Aurelet. You're talking about Tremane."

Jareth looked over at Garthan, "Do you know what happened? I mean, one moment they're dancing together, looking happy and… in love. Next thing I know, she's running out of the ballroom."

"He didn't try to seduce her, if that's what you're asking," said Garthan, shaking his head. "Not that it would surprise me, as close as they are."

Jareth laughed, "I wasn't suggesting that. If there was any propositioning, my money is on Helena initiating it. But… something happened. Any idea what it was?"

"No. Tremane won't talk about it. Says that he'll talk to Helena when she's ready, and in the meantime, he will let the matter rest and so should I." He looked over at Anduin, "Has he said anything to you?"

Anduin shook his head. "No. But…"

"But what?" asked Jacen. "If you know something, spill it."

"Just that… I know Tremane went to the jewel crafter a couple of weeks ago. I think… I think he had a courting token made."

Jareth frowned, "Well… it's not like we didn't see this coming. But… I don't understand. Did she refuse?"

Jacen looked over at him, "You don't know?"

"No… she doesn't exactly confide in me like Karina did." He huffed in irritation. "I never know anything about what's going on with her. Unless it has to do with that 'Collegium' she's making plans for. She'll talk my ear off about that, but… as far as anything else is concerned, she hasn't spoken up." His gaze narrowed in on Jacen. "And you? As I recall, you seem to know what's going on with my other children before I do… anything you need to tell me?"

Jacen laughed, "Not this time, no. At least… nothing she's said to me. I mean, I know they're heart-bonded, that much is obvious. If he presented her the token and she refused, she must have had a reason…" his expression turned puzzled. "But I can't for the life of me figure out what. I saw them dancing together, same as you did. She looked… happy. In love. They both did. I don't get it."

Jareth glanced over at Randel, who threw his hands up in the air. "Oh, don't look at me for ideas. I'm the idiot that mucked up his courtship so badly that I almost ended up in Ardalon for the rest of my life."

At this, they all laughed. Garthan shook his head slowly, "Well, neither one of them are being very forthcoming, and unfortunately… the days when we could command them to tell us have passed. I suppose we'll just have to let them work it out on their own. Tremane seems… hurt but not angry. Almost as if… he blames himself for whatever happened. It appears to me that it's just some sort of misunderstanding that will iron itself out in time."

"I got the impression that Helena was just… confused. She's not angry, that's at least one thing she's never been shy about sharing. I think you're right; they'll iron it out between themselves soon enough." Jareth then stepped up to the tactical table. "So… what has you calling a security briefing on a Sunday? It has to be more than our stubborn offspring…"

Garthan immediately went into his professional mode. "I received a strange missive this morning, from an operative over in Iftanzel. He works for one of King Caelan's councilors. He's been picking up bits and pieces about something going on in Surinar Vale. But the strange thing is… it doesn't seem like the King is even aware of it."

"Surinar Vale… that's the border town right where the Goblin, Dwarven and Iftanzel kingdoms meet, is it not?" asked Jacen.

"Yes," replied Jareth. "It started out as a trading post, a place for the Fae and the Goblins to exchange goods before official diplomatic channels had been opened. Then, when Tír Ceilte became more firmly established, the residents petitioned to join us. The thing is… they had Fae living there too. At the time, we wanted a forward post situated exactly where the Vale was, so I gave my permission for the Fae to stay, so long as they didn't try to go deeper into our lands." He looked down at the map. "They've never tested me in that regard, not even when we were at war with Iftanzel."

"No, and I've had operatives there from the first. As far as they can tell, the Fae in residence are quite content, none of them are in communication with the capital in Haorsham, unless it's a family member, and their correspondence has been completely innocuous. Even so, these aren't Fae nobles. They're just… craftsmen. Brewers. That sort of thing." Garthan's frown deepened. "That's what's so strange. I have rumblings of something going on in Surinar Vale… something secret. Something even their king isn't aware of. And my operatives in the Vale have sent word that more Fae have come to the town. Fae that look like Iftanzel military, but not dressed like them. Not a lot, mind you… but more than usual."

Anduin spoke up, "Iftanzel military? In a Goblin town? And we allow this?"

Randel was frowning at this point too. "Well, once a year they have that butterfly festival. It attracts a lot of women from all three kingdoms. Elven women, too. Naturally, it would attract men as a consequence. Some soldiers from Iftanzel that are on leave end up attending the festival, but it's not a lot of them and they've never given us trouble. I always make a point of sending a few of my own men to attend at the same time, just in case."

Garthan grinned at Randel, "As do I. And other than those few years after the last war, when they'd stopped coming for a time, they've attended that Festival for centuries without incident. Even now, the numbers that are there are not enough to be a credible threat, but it is more than usual. The thing is… I know that their Princess is supposed to attend the festival this year, too. At least… that's what my operative in the King's chambers says."

"Couldn't that be the reason? Security for the princess?" asked Toby.

"Or because of the new King?" asked Jacen. "He just took the throne about… what… ten years ago? He hasn't made any hostile moves in our direction. In fact, he was… rather friendly when I met him in Ardalon. Perhaps they're attending because he's letting more of them do so?"

Garthan shook his head, "The princess has been there before… about three years ago. And her security detail, while strong, didn't include members of the military. Her guards are specially trained for her protection, more like assassins, not soldiers. And why would their king not know about them being there, especially if his daughter is going to be there? No… it's…" he huffed in frustration. "I can't explain it. My senses are telling me that something is going on there. I don't know what. Maybe they're going to try and sneak deeper into Goblin territory. Maybe they'll try to sneak into the Dwarven kingdom. Hell, maybe they're just there to hunt for a wife. I don't know. But it stands out as odd and I hate when something stands out as odd." He looked up at Jareth, "I'm sorry if I seem to be jumping at shadows."

Jareth hastened to reassure him, "No… if you are sensing something odd about this, then I take it for fact that something odd is going on. We need to keep our eyes on this situation. It might not have anything to do with us, but I'd rather be ready for it if it is."

"Well, I have a detail of Ughlánas tailing them. They're staying at the Broken Sword Inn… all of them, so it should be relatively easy to keep tabs on them. Their princess is staying at the Dove and Feather Inn on the other side of town. Makes sense, it's nicer."

"Well… for now, we just shadow them," said Jareth. "See what they're up to. If they're just there for the Festival, then all well and good. If not…"

Perian Manor, West of Fellmark, in the Kingdom of Iftanzel

Xensor stood at the window, watching as twilight crept upon them. Soon, he thought. Soon it will all come together.

His musing was interrupted when Londrel entered the room, snapping to attention. "Word from Surinar Vale, my lord." Xensor turned to face his lieutenant, his brow raised expectantly. "Our operatives are in place. The Dove and Feather was booked solid, so they are staying at a more modest inn. One of them even obtained temporary employment by some of the brewers."

Xensor smiled, "That's good. He should be able to get close… and dose her wine or beer. Then, when she isn't feeling well and retires, your men can take her."

"My thoughts exactly. Are you sure you want to kill her straight away or should we bring her here?"

Xensor thought about it for a moment. His original plan was to kill the girl. Finding her ravaged body would get this war off to a grand start. The more he thought about it though… the more useful the girl might be alive. Certainly, she would provide a lot of leverage…

"Bring her here. Alive. She may be of use to us. Make sure you leave enough clues… I want them to know she's been taken."

Londrel bowed smartly and left the room. Xensor turned back to the window. It faced East, towards the Goblin Kingdom.

Jareth, you bastard, he thought. Have I got a surprise for you…

Author's Notes:

Yeah, Tremane screwed up. Can't blame him, really. We've all had moments I'm sure, when our emotions got us carried away and we said or did something utterly stupid. He really did mean to assure her that he was on board with her plans (remember, he has plans of his own, so it's not like she's alone in thinking a family would get in the way at the moment). If he'd kept his cool and stuck with the plan, Helena would have said yes.

He also knows that it's going to be fine in the end. She'll talk to him when she's ready to, and when she does, he can explain what he really wants, which she would agree with, and they'd come to some happy medium. He's annoyed with himself for screwing it up, but also knows it will work out just fine.

And... hmmmm... what's going on in the Vale, I wonder?