P. Power - Knight of the Realm

“OK. I'll give you a month, but it better be special, a hook that glows or sparkles at least.” Now her voice sounded playful again, which sounded a lot more like the real her.

He could do that. Make it glow on command, or sparkle. Check.

There was a lot of anger in her directed at him too, which kind of seemed wrong. She was being honest, but it hurt to hear some of the things she thought.

Why hadn't he saved her arm instead of letting Karina chop it off? She knew for a fact that he couldn't have, and that Tor didn't even know to try, but he'd stopped the death dust in the air, couldn't he have stopped it on her hand? Karina caught some flak too. Trice was afraid of her now. Having nightmares about her coming to kill her in the dark, or take the remaining limbs. Cold sweats and panic attacks when she had to be around her for too long. That got an honest if hung-over gasp from the Princess on the other end of the communication device.

Who wouldn't be scared though? He was a little afraid of Varley and all she'd done was try to make her breaking up with him not hurt so bad. At least he thought that was her reason for doing what she had in the palace hallway.

When Smythe was satisfied, which took about a half hour of Tor bashing, most of it a lot less reasonable than him failing to save her arm, including for some reason a list of his faults, some of which he always took for virtues, like being focused on the task at hand, or being generous. She kept talking until Smythe, looking sidelong at Tor’s discomfort stopped her.

“So you truly dislike the boy? Tor here I mean?” At least the old guy didn't seem to be taking personal pleasure in it, but he did give Tor a funny look, as if wondering what he'd do about it maybe?

“What? No! I love him. I may whine about him sometimes, but that's just me being bitchy. It's my problem not his.” That, it was clear from the device making her glow so purely, was also true.

Tor had to duck his head, because he just didn't understand her at all. Was he awful or not? She wasn't lying, but it was too complex to understand. She'd said a lot of mean things about him, but loved him? He didn't talk, not knowing if that would be good or bad at all. Plus, there was the whole thing were she'd been ordered to watch him along with Sara, before he'd even known they were there. Months before. That part was just freaky.

Why watch him at all?

It was late luncheon by the time things broke up, but in all Smythe of Westend felt comfortable that the Wards did not order an attack on anyone, except Torrence Baker. That was almost funny, except that one way or another a lot of people had done that. Some more so than others but… Yeah, no doubt everyone here agreed that hurting him didn't really count. They were all royals after all and he was just… him.

As if to make a point of it no one else mentioned it again either. It should have made him mad, but it was just what was. If he wanted a fair world he'd have to make one, wouldn't he. Could he do that? Well, not from whole cloth, but remake the world into a better place? Um…

No.

Not the world. That would be too much. He might be able to help a few people over time, if he tried hard enough. That he could do. It was enough. It had to be, since it was all that Tor could realistically manage. It would do. If you can't be loved, don't let that stop you from loving others. He nodded a little to himself.

Another party was planned for that evening, since they were all suddenly free of suspicion, no one was planning a war, except against Austra, and everyone was relieved and happy about things. Tor felt down, but didn't want to drag anyone with him, so went to set up his house in the giant park out front, no bigger this time, but one of the new ones, so he could play around with decorating and making the outside look festive. This time it had three stories, so it did have more space really and he made the bottom one open except for strong, arched supports and central columns so that it looked like it would support weight easily and filled it with six giant tubs filled with water for people to play in, each one large enough for eight at a time easily. The baths all looked like gray stone, as if carved out of rock and the top looked like a mountain with widows on all sides. The inside of the space looked normal but in a dark green, to fit the park. The front lawn, Tor remembered looking around. That only killed about an hour, so he decided to work up something to help entertain people later. Why not, right? Besides he had an idea that he needed to check into.

He could do both at once. That was efficient even.

It took three hours even in the deep trance he was trying to use more often now, to get ready for the build on Trice’s arm. If he failed she'd probably hate him for real. Possibly forever. Who could blame her? If he'd been better, a true Master Builder, he would have stopped all the death dust in the area instantly, not just what he saw. It wouldn't have taken that much more if he would have thought to sense the nanos themselves, not just go after what was visible. He could do it now even.

Tor could have done it then.

Except he'd panicked, not knowing how to handle the situation, and just froze the stuff already in the air. God he sucked. Trice should hate him. She was right, and his personal failure had cost her arm.

The device was about as big as his fist and had a dozen sigils on it. He didn't know if it would be very partyish, it was more of a festival thing, but he hoped someone would at least like part of it. It was multifaceted and built to be fun, if a little more adult than he'd planned originally. Not too bad he hoped. People would think he was perverted or something if he'd overdone it. Then again, here in Ward they may not think anything of it at all.

The dinner was a whole roast pig, which looked incredible and had been cooking anyway, since it took a long time to cook that much meat. Over a day. They did it in pits they dug, which was a fascinating idea, one using layers of hot coals and earth to hold the heat for slow roasting, actually burying the animal. There were side dishes too, but it was too much work to care about them, he ate small portions and finished it all, but didn't get greedy.

Tor sat at a little table again, though Smythe of Westend had apparently found enough favor to make it to the big table up front. Trice sat next to him and he was between her and Maria, who kept touching his arm gently, as if concerned about his hand. The one mean old Tor took from him. Tor forced a smile to his face.

It had been a good day’s work and the Wards should be grateful to the older man. If Tor had proclaimed them innocent no one would have believed it at all. Trice looked at him occasionally and gave him dirty looks, so he just stopped making eye contact, the game of being a villain so that people would do whatever it was she hoped they would, wasn't as interesting at the moment for some reason.

If she wanted to play her little spy games she could do it without him.

Besides, they'd cleared the Wards on that, and unless the Larval were working with someone else that hated Tor, the situation looked pretty much wrapped up. Trice was probably just being thorough, which normally would have been a good thing, but feeling a bit down like he was, it seemed over the top at the moment.

People saw the pools and figured them out fast enough, just stripping out of their clothing and keeping the water cool to the touch, but nowhere near cold. They soaked and splashed, played and sometimes did things that got raunchy comments and laughter from the people around them. It seemed like fun, but it just left him feeling lonely and out of place.

Did he know anyone that wasn't spying on him for some reason? Or at least that didn't have someone else doing it? Even his own family was doing it. That people watched him, Tor didn't care about much, except when he was doing private things, then it mattered, of course, but that people would lie to him just to do it was… horrible.