Vai awoke to the sound of the door opening. Lyra was awake as well, still leaning against him, picking irritably at the quilt. The doctor walked in pushing a strange chair. It seemed to glide as the doctor moved it. At closer inspection, Vai saw it had wheels.
The man coughed "Ahem. Perhaps this can be a compromise, Lady Lyra?"
She eyed the chair, shifting off Vai and winced as her wound stretched. Despite her obvious pain her voice was commanding. "How long?"
Bowing, the doctor answered, "One week until slow walking, two before normal movement." Quickly he amended, "At least a month before any...rigorous...activity." Vai wasn't sure if he meant him or combat.
Lyra hissed but waved her hand. "Vai, get me over there."
Eager to help, Vai carefully lifted his mistress off the bed and sat her in the chair. She leaned back, breathing slowly through her nose. To everyone's relief the stitches held. Vai gave the chair a small experimental push. It rolled easily. Although it only went straight forward and back, he would have to carefully pivot on one wheel to turn.
"Gods, get me out of this room. I want to check on my surviving men. Make sure they haven't run off on me," Lyra barked and Vai wheeled her out of the room, very slowly at first but gaining confidence in his steering.
When he approached the stairs, a guard helped him lift the chair and Lyra down it. Lyra scowled during the whole process. Finally they were outside and she took a deep breath of the crisp air, it was chilly, winter on its way.
As they approached the barracks, men were laughing and drinking in the training grounds. They tried not to be obvious about watching Lyra as she rolled through. They failed and her face grew darker and darker.
Her sharp green eyes flicked across the group before landing on a man napping on a bench. A dagger flew from her hands—she had insisted on redonning her hidden belt—and lodged itself in the man's thigh. He awoke with a scream, tumbling off the bench, clutching his leg. "Who the hell?!"
Lyra glared down at him and said drolly, "I didn't think you needed a leg. You weren't using it to figure out who jumped us so it must be worthless." Her voice got louder as she addressed her audience. "I may be taking it easy in order to heal faster but unless you're lame or dying I suggest you do your damn jobs."
The men scattered and Brandt appeared, his face pale. "Lyra we—"
She held up a hand and waved him into the house. He followed as Lyra directed Vai to take her to one of the offices. This one was generally called the Map Room as Bryn had 'hired' a man to paint a map of Valhym on the large wall. The mural was speckled with tiny holes from iron pegs used to mark important locations or notes.
Lyra leaned forward and Vai scooched the chair closer so she could pull one of the iron pins out of the wall. Then she waved for Vai to leave her chair and back up.
"Sit down, Brandt."
The man sat.
"Vai, shut the door."
Vai shut the door.
She played with the iron pin and Bradt's eyes seemed unable to leave the sharp item. Her wrist flicked and it embedded itself on the map at an unmarked spot off a road. Vai didn't understand, but Brandt started to sputter, "Please! We just—"
Lyra folded her hands. "You have two minutes to explain yourself."
Brandt nodded fervently. "Immediately after I last saw you, I started to put a team together. We were getting ready to head out when Ulris brought us orders to stand down. Orders from your father. I was going to report to you but was told you were to be left undisturbed. I did find out that Fenrin was sent out shortly after. I can only guess he's running an investigation. Since then we've been awaiting your return and orders."
He talked fast, sweat beading on his forehead and Vai marvelled that even in her state, his mistress could invoke such fear. Lyra tapped the top of her hand thoughtfully.
"Alright, calm down. What did you find out about Fenrin's departure? Spare no detail."
Relieved, Brandt slowed down. "I couldn't get anything out of Ulris. It was odd so I started asking around. Nothing obvious, just getting an account of who's here. It's not often the estate is this full. Nothing was being delivered to Master Fenrin's room and I spied in on meals and he wasn't present. A buddy of mine, Vyrin, is one of the standing estate guards. He got near enough the stable with no suspicion to confirm Fenrin's horse was gone. We've been watched and I didn't want to start any trouble without word from you."
"Paper." Lyra snapped her fingers and Vai searched the room, retrieving some paper and ink. Lyra scratched out a note and rolled it, handing it to Brandt.
"Deliver that to Raldo, only to Raldo, and in person. To get to him, find a tall Duskar woman named Zari. Ask her if her uncle is doing well. Regardless of her response, tell her you'd like to wish him well in person and check on the blind man. She might get violent but show your mark, subtly, and you'll get to Raldo. Don't try anything or you'll wake up naked in a ditch."
Brandt nodded and tucked the paper in his shirt. Lyra gave one last instruction. "Leave in a few minutes when things get...hectic. Vai." Vai rolled her about and out of the room. "It should be about breakfast, take me to the dining room."
When Lyra entered, Bryn was discussing something with his wife. Vai's hands got clammy and he kept his eyes downcast, trying to shrink out of existence even though soon every eye was on Lyra and thus him as well.
"I don't appreciate being kept in the dark," Lyra spoke, staring down her father.
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Dyla's voice answered, "You needed to focus on healing—"
"Bullshit! I was stabbed in the side, not the brains. What are you plotting?"
The growl of the Bear sent a shiver down Vai's back. "Watch your tongue, daughter. There is nothing going on that concerns you. Your brother is out cleaning up your failure."
"My failure? Don't pretend like the attack was anything less than what I warned you about. You refused to listen and now we are most assuredly in the Jarls' spotlight. Do you honestly think this was merely a ploy to catch ordinary bandits? You were set up and I could have stopped it if you had told me the damn name of your informant."
"That attack was aimed at me, of that—" Bryn's voice was rising and Vai winced as Lyra interrupted him.
"I am in charge of information. That is my job! If you had given me two days I could have—"
"You answer to me! These are my enemies and if they wish to face me then they will do it to their peril!" Bryn bellowed. There was the sound of crashing plates.
"Face you? You seem more keen on sending your children to die in your place. Where's exactly is Fenrin? It was so wise of you to send my brother who is so sensitive to political implications to track down the guilty party."
"You underestimate him and try my patience. Carther, take my daughter back to her room, and you—"
Vai dared glance up and froze when he realized Bryn's stormy eyes were fixed on him. He released Lyra' chair and fell on his knees, forehead pressed to the floor. "How may I serve?" he said, trying not to shake.
"Make sure she stays there."
Vai balked at the impossible task placed before him, grateful only the floor could see his expression.
"I will not be locked up like a child," Lyra said coldly and there was a gurgle, a thud, and a heavy weight landed on Vai's back. He sat up, knocked the weight off, and seeing it was a man's dead body, throat slit, felt the room spin. He backed up and watched the mayhem.
Lyra had a red dagger in her hand and was doing her best to eye the remaining guard from her seated position.
Dyla stood up slowly before her husband could move and walked up to Lyra. She carefully circled the chair and moved to grab where Vai had pushed it. Lyra grabbed her mother's wrist and held it back but Dyla twisted out of her grip and began to pull the chair around.
"I'm not finished. Let go!"
Lyra’s mother didn't say anything, just continued to rotate the chair, the task more difficult for the smaller woman than Vai. Lyra howled and lashed out the dagger cutting Dyla's arm. Dyla backed up clutching the cut, her lips a thin line.
Bryn roared. He tackled the chair, lifting it and crushing Lyra to his chest, whose dagger disappeared in the mountain of man and furs. Vai watched as Bryn carried Lyra out, her swearing muffled by his cloak. He glanced after them, dazed.
Dyla's voice snapped him back to reality. "Go after them, Vai. Don't leave Lyra's side. This'll blow over in a few weeks, whatever she's planning is probably already in motion anyway."
Lady Dyla was inspecting her wound critically and Vai leapt up and scuttled after Bryn. He nearly ran into the mountain of a man as Bryn slammed Lyra's door shut. The Bear grabbed him by the throat. "She doesn't leave that room," he ordered and Vai nodded, gasping. Bryn let go and stomped past him. With a shaking hand, Vai opened the door.
Lyra was getting out the bed, the chair smashed next to it. She stood, red blossoming on her side. She took about four wobbly steps towards Vai before losing her balance. He caught her and she hissed, "Get me to the stables."
Vai didn't move, his face pained. What should he do? Lyra huffed and pushed away from him. In his moment of confusion he loosened his grip and she succeeded in freeing herself. She took another half dozen pained steps, blood now dripping down her leg before collapsing to the floor.
"Damn him. Damn him to the deepest circles of hell!" She tried to get up but suddenly fell silent. Vai panicked and rushed to her cursing himself to the deepest circles of hell for letting her go.
To his relief she was breathing. He lifted her into the bed and carefully pressed the corner of the sheets to her wound until the bleeding stopped. She'd tore seven stitches, the edges of her hardly healed skin ragged from the tear.
Vai lay next to her and cried in frustration. This had been a horrible experience. He'd never been so torn. Even when falsely accused and banished from the empress, he'd known what to do. At first he'd tried to convince her of his innocence, but as it became evident he was a scapegoat, he had turned to self preservation for the first time in his life.
In this situation he couldn't even let survival be his guide as either obeying or disobeying would no doubt lead to his death.
Why had Lyra, his clever and capable mistress picked a fight she could not win? When she'd lashed at Dyla, there had been something insane in her eyes. Although Lyra had a temper and was prone to violent outbursts, she was always calculating. But in the moment her reaction had been....primal. And now Vai was to be her jailer instead of her balm and the job went against his nature.
As the adrenaline faded from his system, the despairing Vai fell asleep. He woke to the sharp pain of a dagger to his throat. Lyra, pale but clear eyed, had rolled on top of him.
"You will get me out of here or I will kill you right now."
"Please mistress, I don't wish for you to die."
"You mean you don't want Bryn to kill you."
"I will die either way. Your survival is the only thing my wishes might ensure," he said with a petulant smile. This made her pause. He relaxed his muscles which had tensed in reflex and closed his eyes in acceptance. "Do what you will. I do not wish to follow another's orders."
He waited for the blade to cut into his neck, for the flash of cold steel and warm blood. He regretted that his undignified lip trembled, but his mind felt more at peace. At least now he wouldn't have to choose...wouldn't be so confused.
But death didn't come. Instead her lips pressed on his before she whispered, "Just when I thought there was nothing you could say to save yourself. You're either a lot smarter than I thought or a lucky fool."
She kissed him again and he reciprocated, his hands slipping up to her shoulders, carefully rotating her and following the familiar train down her neck. She sighed, the sound rattling in her chest.
"Congratulations, you've ruined the mood," she muttered and he paused looking at her with concern. Normally she enjoyed the tease, should he have been more bold? With a sharp smile she clarified, "I don't feel like killing anyone anymore."
He smiled and continued his way down. When his hands touched her bandage she stiffened and he weighed his options. With determination he carefully skipped over it and made his way between her legs, peeling her loose pants off. Soon she moaned in delight, his tongue slipping in and massaging her.
She trembled and for a moment he wondered if he should stop, whether the excitement would over aggravate her injury. She tugged at his hair as he paused and he brushed the thought aside. That was not his decision to make.
After a successful orgasm, Vai made his way back up, kissing her sweating body and checking her wound. Blood had indeed oozed out once more.
"It needs to be re-stitched," he observed.
Lyra had her eyes closed and she moaned, "I'm in the perfect mood for you but this damned thing won't let me do what I want. Fine. Send for the doctor.”