In Which Ashe Holds Back

August 4, 1180

"Well, this is a surprise." The creature's eerie eyes struck like a bolt of lightning. "I never thought either of you were stupid enough to seek me out. Or do you want me to make good on my threats after all?"

Ashe had to bite his tongue. Lonriad, however, appeared calmer--for all he was only here because he'd failed to talk Ashe out of it fully and had at least insisted that he not go alone. "Oh, sod off. We know you were bluffing."

"Was I?" That sneer was hardly comforting. But Tavrin had sworn that Deian could do them no harm, and with everything at stake, that belief would make this easier.

But speaking of Tavrin... where was he? Hadn't he been here just a second ago?

"Oh, never mind where my grandson is. He likes to disappear spontaneously sometimes. He's probably nearby, though, just in case. That boy never did trust me--probably smart of him." Deian's speech was marked with an almost yawn-like quality, as if he couldn't be bothered to care either way. "But no matter. Have you some selfish reason for seeking me out, or am I going to get a willing meal for once?"

Lonriad sniffed, possibly reassuring himself of his own safety. Ashe took a second to shelf the worst of his own fear before getting straight to the point. "What's wrong with me?"

"Hmm." Deian's gaze swept him over again, more like fire this time. The lightning had been preferable. The lightning had been quick. "Any number of things. Your hair is a ridiculous color for a human, you have all those unsightly freckles, and one of your pupils seems to dilate at a faster rate than the other, which is just bizarre. And don't get me started on your nose, or than one weird eyebrow hair that's sticking out and curling. You're also oddly short for someone whose body was designed for the sole purpose of knocking other men off of horses, but since you managed to win that tournament anyway, I wouldn't worry too much about that. There's also--"

"You know what I meant!" The creature smirked. A vein in Ashe's hand throbbed as he clenched a fist and fought to hold it back. "Why is my brother-in-law claiming that there's some kind of aura around me? And how did my daughter get it? And Rona's baby?"

"Oh, that!" Deian clapped his hands together in mock-realization. He was trying to provoke him--that had to be it. Probably for no reason other than his own dark amusement. It was now even more important to keep calm, just to spite the beast. "Oh, that's nothing to worry about. Honestly, it just smells like glaze on a ham to me."

He licked his lips, prompting a raised brow from Lonriad. "That could hardly be its purpose."

"No of course not."

He didn't sound like he meant to say any more--another cue, perhaps, a little subtler than before. This one couldn't be ignored. "So, do you mind telling me just what it is? Because if my children are in danger, I--"

"It's practically nothing. Just a light layer of magic left over from the transformation, and nothing more." Deian swayed forward, the lack of personal space hardly comfortable--and the sniffing, even less so. "Yours is fading, actually. Give it a few years and you'll have lost the only thing that makes you physiologically remarkable; otherwise, you're almost disappointingly ordinary."

"And my children--?"

"Theirs should be constant, but that magic will only ever be as strong as yours was at the time of each conception. This new child's will be weaker than your daughter's. After that, you might be able to squeeze in one more before your magic is entirely gone, and then any subsequent children won't have any trace of it."

Well, that was... good? No. No, it wasn't. He wasn't concerned for children that wouldn't exist for years to come, not right now. He was concerned for the new baby. More than that, he was concerned for Yvanette. "What about the children that do have it?"

"It will find ways to manifest itself in due time, but it won't harm its hosts; most likely they'll each develop some sort of odd, but ultimately beneficial ability. I'll let you use your imagination there." He shut his mouth, still smiling that warped smile of his. It would have been unwise to think it would stay shut for long. "Not that you're the most imaginative of people, are you? Even after all that's happened to you."

If Deian was trying to get into his head, Ashe wasn't about to let him. He had the information he'd come for. There was no point in wasting time playing games. "Thank you for your help."

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