#shaela

You rolled your eyes at the man you consider to be your best friend. As the stableman’s son, he had grown up at your side and his loyalty to you had never once faltered. He could have been a highly-decorated soldier in one of the nobles’ armies if not for his dragonborn blood. It was a shame, you thought, the prejudice that ran rampant in this country. Then again, perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, to have him close and so willing to help when you needed him. But that was selfish, you knew. You knew that if this world were kinder, he could be so much more.

“Are you sure it’s not for other reasons?” you asked. The question was half-joking, half-earnest. You have not been friends since childhood without getting a glimpse of his feelings. But you cannot say you return the sentiment, and knowing that, he has always kept a respectful distance.

Still, the directness of the question was a jab that seemed to make Arcturus wince. It was not an unfamiliar wound, and he must have known that you had every right to question his motives. He sat silent for a moment, perhaps to search his own feelings and judgment.

“No, that’s not it,” he said with a shake of his head. “I just...I don’t know. She just doesn’t seem all here. With you. I have no doubt that she cares for you,” he clarified hurriedly. “But it’s as if something else calls to her. And it could call her away from you, if it calls loudly and urgently enough.”

“Another woman?”

”No, that’s not it.” He absentmindedly brushed his hand across his bald head in thought. “I can’t place it. Just trust me on this.”

“Uh huh, sure.”

“I mean...what’s her trade? Her occupation?”

“I never took you to be the type to judge people by their station,” you said pointedly with raised eyebrows. But you were careful about the answer. “A historian. A scholar. She was an underclerk for the Magistrate in Broadison for many years, which I’m sure you know is very prestigious.”

“Uh huh.” Arcturus’s eyes narrowed. He has known you long enough to know when you are hedging on an answer and giving less than a whole-truth. He did not hide his skepticism.

“Okay, she just needs to re-commit to her studies,” you admitted. “She’s had a rough past few years. But I have all of the books and resources she needs to get back on track.”

Arcturus sighed. “That’s not your job, you know. Why are you so determined to fix her?”

“Who said there’s anything that needs to be fixed?” You could feel the defensiveness rising in your voice and took a moment to regather yourself before sighing. “I just...I like her, alright? And I believe in her. She’s smart and her writing reaches people. There’s good in her but she’s just frustrated and doesn’t know how to channel that.”

He didn’t have much to say in response, almost as if his mind was already made up. He turned away from you, and you could not deny the small ache of knowing that two of the people most important to you could not coexist without some discomfort.

“A lot has changed here while we were gone, it seems,” he said with his back to you as he gazed out the open window. The sky was fading into a warm orange as the sun was setting. “She’s learned a lot, you know.” He nodded pointedly at the directly room across the hall. Even through closed doors, you could hear the familiar, sweet laughter that you had missed for months.

“Thank you for keeping her safe,” you said. “You know I don’t want to send her away, but…”

“I know. I understand.” Arcturus understood better than anyone else your responsibilities to the family business. That meant making some sacrifices to...reduce distractions. “But she has done very well and her powers grow. You’ll be very proud when she shows you.”

“I’m sure I will.” You smiled at the thought.

Arcturus paused before turning around to face you.

“Has she met Lex yet?”

//

Having left Arcturus in the library, you retreated to your bedchambers in the adjacent room. You could not help but smile as you watched the half-elf re-dress herself, pulling her arms into the sleeves of a clean shirt and fastening the buttons. The haircut you arranged for her to get had done some good in revealing her face and grey-green eyes.  

“Does this look alright?” she asked, readjusting the shirt collar in the mirror.

With a smile, you stood in front of her at the mirror, realigning her collar to cover a few fresh scars across her clavicle and other stray marks on her neck. “You clean up very nicely,” you laughed. “Being out of the shadows suits you.”

When you took a step back to study her more fully, she managed a shy and somewhat awkward smile.

“Haven’t had to shine up like this since Broadison,” she admitted, wincing almost. “It’s been a while.” She looked at the closed door to your bedchambers and frowned. “Your friend doesn’t like me,” she said.

“Arcturus? He is just...not a friendly person. But he means well and would do anything for me and my family.”

“I know, I just…” She sat back on your bed and ran her hands through her hair. “I’m just a little out of my depth here, you know?” She sighed and took your hands in hers as you stood above her. “I love you. And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. But I don’t belong in this world anymore, and everyone — your father, your mother, and now your friend — they all know I don’t belong.”

At such a confession, of such a showing of vulnerability she had not dared to show before, you sat next to her on the bed, holding her hand still. Here before you was not the assassin who crouched at your window, ready to take your life, determined to steal whatever she could get her hands on. No, here was the woman who would rather give you a book recommendation than kill you, who fell asleep in an armchair next to the fireplace while reading, who held you at night and ensured a safety you hadn’t known before. She was not what anyone around you would have expected or approved of. But she was yours and they would just have to make do with that.

I have already given so much of myself to them, you thought painfully, your eyes drifting to the room across the hall. They must let me have this.

“They are all protective of me,” you admitted, squeezing her hand. “And my family is wrapped up in its name and its honor and our work. I can’t change that about them. Just know that I think you belong here.”

She nodded along at your words, perhaps managed even a small smile, but still said nothing. Her doubts remained.

“But I know whose judgment I trust,” you continued, “and I know she’ll love you as much as I do. Just promise to be on your best behavior, hm?”

“I...you’re going to introduce us?”

“You’ve become an important person to me, and I plan to keep you around as long as you don’t run off.”

“Hah. Fair enough.” Lex paused, considering this for a moment. She kept her eyes trained on the ground, both intently focused and gazing at nothing, and you wished you could pinpoint what she was searching for.

“I know this is...big,” she said, finally meeting your eyes. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”

Almost as if on cue, there was a knock at your bedchamber doors. It was not Arcturus’s heavy knuckles against the wood, but smaller, more delicate hands.

Unable to wait any longer, you threw the door open as small arms reached up to wrap around your middle. It had been many months too long without her, and she had grown taller than you thought. The ruefulness of your separation and her absence reverberated even now, but the ache receded substantially when you were able to pick her up and gather her in your arms.

The tears brimmed and you shut your eyes tightly as you pressed your face into her hair and held your daughter for the first time in months.

“I missed you,” you murmured into her soft hair, a red so deep it was nearly purple.

“Missed you more, Mom,” she giggled, her arms wrapped around your neck.