P. Power - Knight of the Realm

“Tor! There you are. We've been expecting you for days now, ever since Varley got back. Come in, come in. Oh…” The gate guard hadn't moved out of the way.

“I confirm this is Master Tor, Torrance Baker. The Builder. Troll of Galasia and font of wonderfulness. Cutie of the masses and all around great guy.”

Laughing, the guard got out of the way. Royal Guards creeped Tor out sometimes. Most of the time if he was honest about it. They'd smile and laugh at a joke, sometimes even bad jokes and seemed to really mean it, but if Tor had moved to hit Rolph or even hug him too fast, the guard would have done everything he could to stop him, and barring being able to do that would have fought to the death so that the Prince could run away. If they weren't collectively the best fighters in the kingdom it was only because of the new group Kolb had started and that they were better armed. Well, really, that he'd had Kolb start. The point was that Tor really didn't want to have to fight them if he could help it. Then he didn't want to fight anyone, if it was at all possible.

They walked in chatting, Tor updating the Prince quickly as to what had happened, not leaving much out. He added the stuff with Trice, but left out that he knew she was faking it, in case of listeners. He did add that he was seeing Petra and Collette and that he'd be a little upset if Rolph stole them both away with his good looks and princely charms. Not that both weren't worth trying to steal, he added, trying to be playful, just that Rolph could get a lot of women if he wanted…

“Um, sure I can. All the serving girls from the palace that I want. Except that most of them are either way to old, or far too young for me. Or men, which isn't my thing, not mainly, though a few here are starting to look kind of cute… At least when I was at Wilderness Station I had Sara around. She won't even visit with me now you know, too worked up about you leaving. Thinks I made you leave, which isn't fair really. What was I supposed to do, order you to stay around a bunch of people you'd just been fighting with? You were fresh off a combat rage the day before, and already been fighting that day again, the whole thing could have gone lethal in an instant. Displace hundreds of people so that your bruised ego wouldn't hurt so much? I mean, you weren't wrong. It is your house and you still own it, but I couldn't order all those men, vital to the war effort, out into the wastelands to fend for themselves. Even if I did kind of want to at the time. Jerks.”

Looking around shiftily the Prince leaned in to him.

“If the guards here did that to me, I'd do the same thing… Only less effectively and probably end up dead, you know? Though part of that is that we have better quality guards here. Not just that I'm a wimp. Just so you understand of course.” Rolph gave him a half smile and tried to keep his face blank. It didn't really work too well and they both ended up chuckling a bit.

Ending up dead led to the topic of Smythe and how everyone wanted him for the investigation, which meant an audience with the King before Tor did anything, if only to buy him time to work his nerve up. Rolph didn't have to ask him what he meant by that at least. One of the benefits of being long term friends. They knew each other.

Before they went in to see the King, Tor dropped into a receptive state and held his focus as open as possible. It was… not a good thing to do, but he was getting tired of not knowing who to trust. The hard part would be keeping his reactions seeming normal and lively enough. Facial expressions became subdued in almost any trance state after all, body language too. Tor pulled his features into a small grin as he walked into the room, letting his smile grow larger when he saw the Queen, who looked at least as pretty as ever, even with her new short hair, that didn't really suit her at all.

Both of them were uneasy to see him, that was clear, it was also pretty easy to see that was about Varley and her being pregnant. Tor bowed a little to each, which he didn't normally do, but this wasn't a pleasure call, they needed to be alert to that or it would waste time. Tor wanted to waste time, true, but it wouldn't due to waste the King’s. He started right in, his breath catching as he did, trance state or not.

“The Wards think Smythe of Westend is their only hope, and when they heard he was left blind and crippled, they kind of gave up.” He sighed. “I need to talk to him I guess. I can't fix the hand, I could have at the time, but I was busy, you know? The eyes, well, I've done that. I think I can with him, if that's all right? He'll have to…” Tor shook his head, both the King and Queen was too surprised to speak.

They both thought he was going to call for his death.

That made Tor blink. He'd never thought to call for that at all. Would that have even worked? Not a real point now, was it?

“I don't know. Making him apologize means nothing. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't think it was important, right? But really, I don't want to die just yet, so if maybe he could lay off? I… fuck it.” Tor blinked realizing the language he'd just used in front of the Queen ducking his head he apologized.

“Sorry, I meant to say; fuck it, your majesties. Let my manners slip for a second there. Won't happen again.” The surprise got a chuckle from them both.

“I'll fix him if he wants it. We need to talk though, I guess, which I don't really want to do. The man hates me enough to want me dead after all. I have no idea how this conversations going to go. I think I'll leave him blind for it, so that I have a fighting chance if he freaks out on me. I guess I should get to that now?”

Rich looked at him and nodded, obviously feeling… proud? Of him? Why? Because he was willing to face his personal nightmare head on? No…

It was because he was letting go of the attempt on his life for the greater good. Heh, well, who wouldn't? No matter who you were, avoiding a war was worth more than your own safety, comfort, or even life. Even the Wards agreed with him on that score, how could he do less?

The feeling from Rolph was calm, and not at all surprised that Tor would do this. It was the kind of thing he expected from his friend. That made him smile a bit. Before he could ask for directions to where Smythe was staying Connie reluctantly raised her right hand a bit, then higher, trying to catch his attention, even though she really didn't want to say the words she had to, knowing it would hurt him more than a little. She projected this so loudly that Tor picked it up without half trying. So it was something she really thought of as important.

“There's been a change in plans regarding Varley's… and your engagement. It's nothing to do with you of course, but… well, we need to marry her to Count Peterson for political reasons… It's…”

He shrugged, which made her stop suddenly and stare.

“Because she's pregnant, it obviously isn't mine and you need a rather tall and dark skinned royal to fill in for the real father…” The pieces flowed together, the baby even felt like him, even though the idea nearly floored him. But an offer of a dalliance had been made, before the engagement, Varley had told him that the very first time they'd met to talk. At a public dinner no less, so it wasn't that secret or anything. She’d said that she'd refused, but royals lied. A lot. Like breathing for everyone else. Or maybe she'd just refused the last in a line of offers from the man? Ah… That could be it.

“Count Ward.” It wasn't a question, Tor knew it as much as he knew that the sun would rise in the morning or that, barring magic, things tended to fall down.

Well, freaking heck.

That got a reaction from the Prince, shock, surprise and rage. So he hadn't been in on it at least.