"I refuse," said Essek immediately, and there probably were a thousand better ways he could have expressed his feelings in that moment, but none half as sincere.
"You do not," said his mother, sharply, and -- and he'd long ago learned not to expect anything from her, made himself understand long ago that she was a mother by blood only. Yet something in the finality of her voice still made him stare at her in disbelief, a stab of betrayal lancing through his heart. Somehow, it only fully sank in then just how many plans had already been made, while he was only the afterthought.
That brief flash of his own weakness only made him angrier. Essek made himself uncurl his aching hands and brought them down flat on the table instead, hard enough to make the cutlery rattle. "Do you mean to drag me to the temple in chains, then?" he demanded. "Are we to become as barbaric as the Empire in that respect as well? If not, then I refuse. I am not some...some unwanted bastard child, some third son you can trade for favors, I am not Verin, I--"
He made himself stop. Made himself breathe. You are getting hysterical, he told himself, though the words came to him in his mother's voice. Essek bowed his head, pinched the bridge of his nose, made himself breathe.
"--and, just as importantly," he finished, once he trusted himself to speak again. "I am Shadowhand to the Bright Queen." I thought that would be enough for you. "I have no time for marriage, for keeping a house. It is foolishness to even broach the subject."
"A replacement Taskhand can be found easily enough," said Issa lightly. Essek's fingers itched to choke the life out of him. And then -- and then the absolute bastard reached over to trail those long artists' fingers down Essek's cheek, along his jaw. "But I'm afraid there's no replacing you in my eyes. You're the only one for me, Essek, my darling."
Shock made him freeze for a second too long. A fresh wave of anger sent life flooding back into his limbs. Essek moved quick as a cat to swat Issa's hand away. "Do not--!"
The sound of the slap seemed to echo much too loudly in the suddenly crypt-quiet dining room. The sound seemed to take much too long to die away, leaving Essek with only the sound of his own breathing in his ears and the heat of their twin stares on his face.
Unbidden, he found himself staring at his mother, a plea building in his throat that he steadfastly refused to give voice to. You know. I told you what he tried to do to me. Why are you doing this?
"Deirta?" Issa asked, still sounding so very light, entirely unruffled. "Might I have a moment to speak with your son alone? It's true that we've imparted a great deal of information in so little time - if I could just explain to him some more of the facts of the matter..."
"Yes," Deirta said. Her voice was very cold. Her hand was gripped so tightly around the stem of her wine goblet that her knuckles stood out pale. "I think that would be a fine idea."
"Wonderful." Issa stood up, gave his mother a sweeping bow, and then nodded to Essek. "Come along, then." And he swept out of the room, towards the back garden.
Hating the idea of following like a summoned dog but knowing better than to waste time arguing with his mother, Essek got up without a word and followed.
He truly did intend to just talk. He knew, even now, that turning his attempted fiancee into a pulped ball of flesh with the power of gravity wouldn't actually solve all his problems. And he shouldn't have needed to. He was the Shadowhand, now, not just a weak and helpless student. He had power and influence of his own, he had allies, there should be no reason for violence because they could not do this to him...
Issa was seated in one of the garden chairs outside. Essek took a seat in another one, steepled his fingers in front of his face in an attempt to hide their shaking. "Well?" he asked, not bothering to hide his disdain now. "I'm waiting. What could you possibly have to say to convince me of this?"
Issa leaned back in his chair, a deliberately slow insouciance in the gesture that set Essek's teeth to grinding. He rested a finger against his lips in mock-contemplation, looking Essek over.
"You won't be Shadowhand for much longer no matter what you insist," he finally said. "Allow me to assure you of that right now."
"Are you threatening me?"
"Threats are for blowhards and fools. I am neither. I am simply stating a fact - imparting some information I received from certain sympathetic parties."
Oh.
Essek could have sworn that his heart stopped beating for an instant. His ears were suddenly full of ringing that might have been screaming, so much so that he nearly missed what Issa said next. "Those sympathetic parties told me that you've been involved in some very nasty business as of late, darling. The sort of thing that the queen would be most displeased to hear about. Really, it's a minor miracle that I was able to intercede on your behalf - to make them agree instead to leave you be if agree to step down, to step aside, and be mine instead."
"And if I don't?" Essek heard himself ask, much too quietly.
Issa chuckled as if the very idea were some childish joke. "Then the Bright Queen will hear of what you've been up to. What you've done while sneaking around her back. You have such a lovely face, Essek - it's only grown lovelier since last we saw each other. It would be such a shame to see it broken in the Dungeon of Penance or swinging from a noose."
Essek felt as if the noose had already closed around his throat - he couldn't think, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't see a way out...
Shock kept him frozen and rooted to his seat as Issa stood up slowly and approached him. Roiling terror kept him still as the older drow reached down to caress his cheek, then further down to take hold of his wrist.
And pain made him gasp as Issa suddenly gripped hard enough to make bones grind together, as he yanked Essek forward and off-balance, enough to lean down and murmur in Essek's ear.
"But there's no need to fear, darling. I'll take very, very good care of you..." His voice was a low, warm, intimate murmur. He swiped a thumb over Essek's lower lip, nipped his teeth against Essek's earlobe, and this could not be happening, this had to be a nightmare, this felt like a dream except for the terribly close heat of his fiancee's body, crowding him, looming over him.
"...as long as you don't give me a reason not to."
Then just like that, he was gone, he was stepping away, and Essek was left to clutch his bruised wrist to his chest and curl in on himself and try not to hyperventilate as Issa went back inside, confident in the expectation that Essek would follow.
The Most Delicate of Chains (Part 2/?)
"You do not," said his mother, sharply, and -- and he'd long ago learned not to expect anything from her, made himself understand long ago that she was a mother by blood only. Yet something in the finality of her voice still made him stare at her in disbelief, a stab of betrayal lancing through his heart. Somehow, it only fully sank in then just how many plans had already been made, while he was only the afterthought.
That brief flash of his own weakness only made him angrier. Essek made himself uncurl his aching hands and brought them down flat on the table instead, hard enough to make the cutlery rattle. "Do you mean to drag me to the temple in chains, then?" he demanded. "Are we to become as barbaric as the Empire in that respect as well? If not, then I refuse. I am not some...some unwanted bastard child, some third son you can trade for favors, I am not Verin, I--"
He made himself stop. Made himself breathe. You are getting hysterical, he told himself, though the words came to him in his mother's voice. Essek bowed his head, pinched the bridge of his nose, made himself breathe.
"--and, just as importantly," he finished, once he trusted himself to speak again. "I am Shadowhand to the Bright Queen." I thought that would be enough for you. "I have no time for marriage, for keeping a house. It is foolishness to even broach the subject."
"A replacement Taskhand can be found easily enough," said Issa lightly. Essek's fingers itched to choke the life out of him. And then -- and then the absolute bastard reached over to trail those long artists' fingers down Essek's cheek, along his jaw. "But I'm afraid there's no replacing you in my eyes. You're the only one for me, Essek, my darling."
Shock made him freeze for a second too long. A fresh wave of anger sent life flooding back into his limbs. Essek moved quick as a cat to swat Issa's hand away. "Do not--!"
The sound of the slap seemed to echo much too loudly in the suddenly crypt-quiet dining room. The sound seemed to take much too long to die away, leaving Essek with only the sound of his own breathing in his ears and the heat of their twin stares on his face.
Unbidden, he found himself staring at his mother, a plea building in his throat that he steadfastly refused to give voice to. You know. I told you what he tried to do to me. Why are you doing this?
"Deirta?" Issa asked, still sounding so very light, entirely unruffled. "Might I have a moment to speak with your son alone? It's true that we've imparted a great deal of information in so little time - if I could just explain to him some more of the facts of the matter..."
"Yes," Deirta said. Her voice was very cold. Her hand was gripped so tightly around the stem of her wine goblet that her knuckles stood out pale. "I think that would be a fine idea."
"Wonderful." Issa stood up, gave his mother a sweeping bow, and then nodded to Essek. "Come along, then." And he swept out of the room, towards the back garden.
Hating the idea of following like a summoned dog but knowing better than to waste time arguing with his mother, Essek got up without a word and followed.
He truly did intend to just talk. He knew, even now, that turning his attempted fiancee into a pulped ball of flesh with the power of gravity wouldn't actually solve all his problems. And he shouldn't have needed to. He was the Shadowhand, now, not just a weak and helpless student. He had power and influence of his own, he had allies, there should be no reason for violence because they could not do this to him...
Issa was seated in one of the garden chairs outside. Essek took a seat in another one, steepled his fingers in front of his face in an attempt to hide their shaking. "Well?" he asked, not bothering to hide his disdain now. "I'm waiting. What could you possibly have to say to convince me of this?"
Issa leaned back in his chair, a deliberately slow insouciance in the gesture that set Essek's teeth to grinding. He rested a finger against his lips in mock-contemplation, looking Essek over.
"You won't be Shadowhand for much longer no matter what you insist," he finally said. "Allow me to assure you of that right now."
"Are you threatening me?"
"Threats are for blowhards and fools. I am neither. I am simply stating a fact - imparting some information I received from certain sympathetic parties."
Oh.
Essek could have sworn that his heart stopped beating for an instant. His ears were suddenly full of ringing that might have been screaming, so much so that he nearly missed what Issa said next. "Those sympathetic parties told me that you've been involved in some very nasty business as of late, darling. The sort of thing that the queen would be most displeased to hear about. Really, it's a minor miracle that I was able to intercede on your behalf - to make them agree instead to leave you be if agree to step down, to step aside, and be mine instead."
"And if I don't?" Essek heard himself ask, much too quietly.
Issa chuckled as if the very idea were some childish joke. "Then the Bright Queen will hear of what you've been up to. What you've done while sneaking around her back. You have such a lovely face, Essek - it's only grown lovelier since last we saw each other. It would be such a shame to see it broken in the Dungeon of Penance or swinging from a noose."
Essek felt as if the noose had already closed around his throat - he couldn't think, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't see a way out...
Shock kept him frozen and rooted to his seat as Issa stood up slowly and approached him. Roiling terror kept him still as the older drow reached down to caress his cheek, then further down to take hold of his wrist.
And pain made him gasp as Issa suddenly gripped hard enough to make bones grind together, as he yanked Essek forward and off-balance, enough to lean down and murmur in Essek's ear.
"But there's no need to fear, darling. I'll take very, very good care of you..." His voice was a low, warm, intimate murmur. He swiped a thumb over Essek's lower lip, nipped his teeth against Essek's earlobe, and this could not be happening, this had to be a nightmare, this felt like a dream except for the terribly close heat of his fiancee's body, crowding him, looming over him.
"...as long as you don't give me a reason not to."
Then just like that, he was gone, he was stepping away, and Essek was left to clutch his bruised wrist to his chest and curl in on himself and try not to hyperventilate as Issa went back inside, confident in the expectation that Essek would follow.