A New Beginning

[Igraine]

Several months had passed since the corruption and fall of the Unseelie Veil. During that time Igraine focused primarily on keeping herself and the child growing inside her comfortable. Jace was a welcome respite in a world she considered topsy turvy. Her attention to her half-brother’s child was therapeutic in many ways. It let her anger slip through her fingers where it might have festered and brewed much longer. Jace was a smart boy, growing fast in a world that was built for him. Even now he towered over her in his awkward teenage phase.

King Pendaran was an afterthought. He didn’t bother her and she didn’t seek him out, content to raise a child that was not her own, but shared part of her blood. She was, after all, Jace’s aunt. Igraine was certain that Pendaran wasn’t done with her yet, but she could not foretell her fate. War would be inevitable – she knew that Pendaran wanted to obliterate every single creature that stood in his way to the Seelie Throne. Perhaps that’s all that he wanted her for, to cement his tie to a throne that didn’t belong to him.

“Jace, be a dear and grab that wolfs bane from the top shelf. We’re going to practice making a sleeping draught. I am proud to say that I never had to use any of this on you when you were little. You always listened to me. Only me, but at least you listened to someone.” Igraine laughed as she rubbed her sore belly. Morgana would be born any day now and she was certain the child might need some sleeping draught, which would ease the tension of sleepless nights.

Jace had the stature of his father, which was welcome when getting things off of high shelves, but it set him apart just ever so slightly from the other male Bocan. He was taller, better built, and had a better handle on what it meant to be human. He still had the characteristic amber eyes that his mother’s race held as one of their trademarks. Jace knew, too, that Igraine had killed his birth mother over some tricky business with his father – though she had never gone into great detail about it.

“Now we shall see if you have been paying attention to your lessons…” Igraine said as she stood as close to the table in her apothecary as she could manage. Her belly was so big now she wasn’t sure if she was carrying only one child anymore. “What is the first thing you do when you start a sleeping draught?”

It was then that Igraine started feeling the pain leeching through her body. She knew they were contractions, but she was sure that they would pass, as all the others had done in the past month. She tried to refocus on what Jace was doing, but she sat down on a stool nearby.

“Jace, darling, I do believe your little cousin is going to join us soon. You’re going to have to finish today’s lesson later. I need you to go get help, the midwives should be lingering around somewhere nearby. I will need a litter to be carried to Ulster.” Igraine rubbed her belly thoughtfully, breathing evenly and calmly. The pain would get worse, so much worse, and now was the time to keep calm and make sure everything was in order. “Jace, someone has to tell your father, Thorin. Make sure a messenger is sent.”

It would be bittersweet to see Thorin again. Word was that he was married and expecting yet another child from his wife. Igraine did not begrudge him his happiness, though she wished things were different between them.

-----------------------------------------

As the events progressed, Igraine got less and less capable of being nice. Her temper got shorter as the pain got worse. By the time she was in the litter and headed to her old castle, Igraine’s water had broken and she was hardly able to stand. When they reached the castle, she was carried inside and up the stairs to her old bedroom – a place of comfort. It would be six hours before anyone realized that she needed to give birth outside.

When Kahlan slipped into the room, a subtle hush settled over those gathered, watching the Unseelie Queen writhe in pain as wave after wave of contractions washed over her. Kahlan walked to her daughter and took her limp hand in hers and smiled, smoothing the hair plastered to her forehead away.

“For a bunch of Fae creatures, you are all idiots. The child that your Queen carries is three quarters Faery, and anything more than a quarter requires birthing in nature. I am sorry it took me so long to arrive, my darling.” Kahlan kissed Igraine’s forehead and gestured for her to be moved. “She and the child will die if she isn’t moved. Now.” Kahlan snapped as she looked around the room at the gathered Unseelie keeping watch. They moved quickly to pick up their Queen, careful of her sore body, and hurried with her to the courtyard garden that was still perfectly manicured. Kahlan guided them to the place where the apothecary building was being rebuilt and ordered her daughter to be placed on the ground. Immediately the tension released in Igraine’s body and she was able to relax. The Unseelie milled around behind Kahlan as she knelt to help her daughter give birth to her granddaughter.

“Thorin…?” Igraine asked as her eyes fluttered open. Kahlan smiled as she rubbed Igraine’s belly, trying to quiet the upset child inside.

“He’ll be here soon. He will want to see the baby. Everyone has sacrificed so much, especially you Igraine, to make sure she is safe.” Kahlan smiled again and relaxed her shoulders, allowing herself to gather her energy to be the midwife that her daughter needed. Even with her guidance it would take another hour to give birth to Morgana.

[Thorin]

Late, he was always late.

Thorin had received the message, but he hastily prepared himself for the trip. He hadn't slept well, obsessed with mastering new weapon designs for Queen Mab. Seeing Igraine again would be bittersweet, their parting hadn't been on friendly terms. In fact, he was sure that he was labeled as the lover who had abandoned her.

Grumbling, he made his way downstairs, the messenger gutsy enough to barge in. Dressing in his usual choice of uniform, he equipped his blade and motioned for the messenger to eat and drink. There would be little sense in sending the lad out, especially with the unseelie lurking around.

Nimue greeted him, cheerful as always, forcing him to smile against his mood. Chizuru was always in some sort of conversation with Tamotsu and Amariel would be in a frenzy in the kitchen. Was it shock that made him react in such a way? He was moving in a pace that lacked urgency.

“Igraine is requesting my presence for the birth...I'll try to be home before the night settles in.” What was he saying? This was a birth, not a simple gathering. His head felt light-headed, his world slowly crashing around him in one swift motion. Catching his footing, he headed for the door, ignoring the bewildered Nimue and Chizuru.

His journey to Ulster was quick, his skill with the shadow world was much more impressive, than the last time he had used it around Igraine. Would she even notice his change, or only remember the bad memories? In her condition, he doubted she would have anything else on her mind.

Guards escorted him to the Queen Igraine, the location something he had predicted. Unseelie were present, which he had assumed they would be, considering Igraine was their new Queen. Their presence set him on edge, thankful that he had brought his blade. He knew he was an enemy to King Pendaran. Even though this was a birth, he wouldn't put it past her new husband.

He stood near Kahlan, noting her presence almost instantaneously. Things were still tense between them, but he had to ignore the past and concentrate on the present. Their daughter was about to be born and he had to forgive past offenses.

Taking hold of Igraine's hand, he didn't exactly have words to say to her. Feeling as though there had been too much silence between them, he finally spoke up with a shaky tone. “I'm here, I told you I would always be there for you....” His eyes only focused on her and her pained form. In the back of his mind, he could sense another Vuri, guessing it was the son Igraine had spoken about in a past letter. That past would have to be confronted later. Right now, his only concern was the safe delivery of Morgana.

Looking at Kahlan with worried eyes, he wondered what use he would be. “Just tell me what to do. I'm not leaving until I know mother and child are safe.” He was already a father with Jace, but this moment was surreal and heart stopping. His nerves were bound up like a coil, his mind imagining the worst case scenario.

He still loved Igraine, his mind drifting into the thought of a family with her and what he could have had. Thorin knew that his thought was pure denial. Morgana would be shifted from Mother to grandmother for safe keeping.

Unlike his father, he would be there for his children and the women who gave birth to them. Without words, he tried to reassure Igraine that everything would be alright. He wasn't going anywhere.

[Sage]

Jace fumbled with a handful of ingredients as he listened to Igraine. He had grown into an impressive height, but he had also adopted an awkward clumsiness the last few months, that he could only hope would not last through the year. He placed the armful of things before her, and pondered her question. He had only just come to his conclusion, picking up several small twigs of lavender wordlessly.

Before he could make it to the mortar and pestle and confidently recite the first step of the potion, he noticed his Aunt's discomfort. He shouted into the hall for help, and as he reentered, the name of his father caused his fists to curl and crush the delicate dried lavender in his grip. His worried expression deteriorated into a scowl as he exited the room once more, leaving a distressed Igraine in the hands of her midwives. The letter was scrawled quickly, the message short, and sweet. He sealed it with black wax, and sent it along with the quickest runner he was familiar with.


Thorin,

Aunt Igraine is giving birth. She requests your presence.


As soon as the messenger was out of the room, he set about preparing himself for the sight of his father. He was dressed in casual clothes, but he did not know what might transpire in the next few hours. His first thought was to dress in leathers, which would offer some protection in a scuffle. The armor was tight, and drew his young and lanky body into a somewhat more formidable shape. Next, he fixed a small sheath at his waist, and holstered a small curved blade. It was more decorative than intimidating, but it eliminated his childish helplessness somewhat. He stood before a mirror, regretting how hostile he appeared.

Taking a deep breath, and only when he felt as though he looked presentable, he returned to the apothecary. As he reached the hall outside the room where she had been, he noticed a few attendants skittering toward the courtyard, and he followed them. When he arrived, he saw a controlled chaos, being orchestrated by Kahlan, as usual. Next to the expecting mother, Thorin stuck out like a sore thumb, filling his vision. His stomach turned, and his fists balled once more, causing him to collapse on a nearby bench. Words escaped him, as they so often did, but he knew even the buzzing caused by the birth wouldn't last forever. He would have to talk to Thorin, now that he was there, and soon.

[Igraine]

“Stay calm, Thorin. Sit with her a while. It’s going to get worse before it gets better. Now that she’s outside she only has to worry about having the baby.” Kahlan smiled briefly before glancing up and over Thorin’s shoulder in one fluid movement. She smiled brighter and winked at Thorin, a gesture he might find very strange. “It seems you have a visitor.”

Nimue slid to her knees on the opposite side of Igraine, catching her free hand in one of her own. A smile lit her features as she leaned over her future Queen. When Thorin would look at her, agape with curiosity at how she had followed him so expertly, she would shrug her shoulders a little, her own round belly very obvious.

“I have my ways.” Nimue said with an impish smile before looking down at Igraine again. She took a cloth and wiped the woman’s brow with tender hands. “It won’t be long now, Igraine. We need to have a discussion with those Unseelie that don’t understand what it means to give birth to a child of summer.” Nimue winked at Igraine as the woman experienced another contraction ripped at her stomach and spine.

It might be awkward for Thorin to have his wife taking care of the woman he loved most in his life, but Nimue saw nothing strange in it. In fact, she could feel the girl in her belly pressing forward to be closer to the woman giving birth to her half-sister. Before long there was no time for talk as the contractions got closer and closer together. All of the effort between the two women bearing midwife duties went toward making Igraine more comfortable. Nimue looked at Thorin and gestured with one hand to get his attention.

“She will not die now that she is outside. You could give us some cover though. This dress she is wearing is too constricting and will bruise her. It needs to come off and we need you to provide the barrier to protect her pride until we can cover her with the sheets we have.” A steady stream of supplies had been brought to the small wild copse of the garden. Igraine, for her credit, was doing exceptionally well at not screaming at this point. That wouldn’t last long though. When Thorin provided cover, Nimue would shred the gown Igraine was in with her hands, an easy task considering how taut the gown was over her body. When she was laying there, naked, Nimue inspected her body to make sure that everything was going okay – with magic and with her eyes. A sheet draped over her prone form, and Kahlan said a few soothing words to ease Igraine’s pain.

Igraine had a vice-like grasp on one of Thorin’s hands and another on Nimue’s. When it came time to push that pressure got even tighter. It only took three pushes to finally give birth to Morgana, who let out a loud wail of protest at the cold air. Kahlan turned and began cleaning the baby off, Nimue moved quickly to the child to help, producing some warm water magic in order to wash the baby girl clean. It was Kahlan that offered the clean newborn child to Igraine while Nimue stuffed towels and blankets under Igraine to prop her up.

Igraine was all smiles as she looked at the child in her arms. There was a dusting of black hair, Thorin’s hair then, and she looked awfully put out at having to deal with being born. Thorin’s personality too. Heaven help them all, Igraine laughed and looked up at Thorin and offered the baby to him, confident that he wouldn’t feel too terribly awkward holding the child he conceived first – if she hadn’t been born first. Igraine looked around for Jace, and when she saw him she smiled – though she knew she had to look like death after going through that. She held her hands out for him, wanting to comfort him at having to witness her go through such an ordeal. She was his aunt, but she was also his foster mother. He knew what she had done to his mother, and he knew she loved him like a son.

“You should hold Morgana, Jace. She won’t be staying with me while we’re with King Pendaran.” Igraine said as she looked back up at Thorin, where Nimue was hovering behind him to make sure he didn’t drop the baby – repositioning his hands on the child so he cradled her properly. Nimue was a good influence on Thorin, teaching him where Igraine could only expect him to know what everyone else knew. They were a good love match, though it might take Thorin time to realize that.

“Morgana favors you, Thorin. We better hope she looks more like me as she grows.” Igraine laughed, wincing a little at the effort, and relaxed against the blankets and towels Nimue used to make pillows for her. Her mother was still working to heal the vicious effects of giving birth, though she knew that Kahlan would not heal her completely – even if she could. That had been a thing between them. Healing was something that was only to be used to prevent death, not heal every little ache and pain.

“I have time to heal completely and bond with my daughter before I must rejoin King Pendaran.”

[Thorin]

The cry of the infant jolted him out of his daze of pure fear for Igraine. Igraine had been clenching onto his hand so tightly, that he wondered if he would be able to wield a sword. Nimue's presence had been a surprise, but he wasn't surprised by how she had tracked him down. Being a nymph, it would have been quite easy for her, but having both women near each other made him uncomfortable and awkward.

Having the Unseelie present, made Thorin nervous and on edge, but he calmed once Morgana was in his arms. If someone spoke to him, the words wouldn't reach him. Thorin was too entranced by Morgana and that her birth could cause such an uproar. From that moment, Thorin knew that he wouldn't let anything happen to Morgana. He knew that she would be watched over, but that didn't mean that he couldn't influence her in some way. There would be stories told and lessons taught. He would tell her everything she wanted to know about her mother.

Morgana had a different life to her, as if she could see something hidden about him. Her hands reached about wildly, until one of them grasped onto his index finger. Tears welled up in his eyes, but they never fell. Thorin didn't regret having a child with Igraine, but he regretted that she had to be whisked away, like some unloved thing. Jace would be standing near him, but he wouldn't notice the boy until Igraine spoke directly to him. She had raised the child unconditionally, when Thorin had been denied his rights to have his own son.

Everything was overwhelming, his heart and mind constantly raced against each other. He would be expecting another child in a few months. There was so much to lose. Igraine would be returning to King Pendaran, but not after she bonded with their daughter. Thorin would be joining her without argument.

There were some words left unsaid and Morgana deserved to feel secure with her parents- even if it were temporary.

Thorin hardly showed a serious side, but this moment weighed on him and forced something to change. What did you say to a son who you were forced to abandon? That event would always plague his mind and make him rethink his future actions.

“I'm trusting you to watch over your sister and your mother when I cannot.” Thorin had other words to say to Jace, but that would have to wait for a later date. Jace looked like a younger version of him, which made him pause for a moment. The boy had his bocan mother's features, which were very prominent. From the look of concern on Jace's face, he doubted his son would harm Igraine or Morgana. "Can you do that for me, son?"

Handing Morgana over to Jace, he felt himself begin to pass out, but Nimue would be there to keep him on his feet. With everything so delicate, he wondered how they could bring the balance back.

[Sage]

Jace's mind was a vortex of light and darkness. He was excited to greet Morgana and Thorin for the first time, and he was also full of resentment over the circumstances. Thorin had never come simply to see Jace, whether it was within his power to do so, the half-Bocan did not know, but to see his father fawn over another child before speaking his first ever word to his eldest son caused him great pain.

It was with reluctance that he took Morgana from his father. He did not want his frustrations to boil over onto her, causing him to resent her, but with one look into her eyes his fears were put to rest. She looked like him, like their father, and she was already calmed in his arms despite having just been brought into the world. He understood slightly more why she was more important than him, and put all his focus into making her comfortable and safe.

He briefly flickered his attention to Igraine, as she was made comfortable, making sure she would recover, before shifting his attention to Thorin. His turmoil was masked by his joy in bringing his sister into the world, but his father's words stung. He swallowed hard, to keep from speaking out of place, but he grew increasingly irritated by Thorin's absence when he was asked to look after his family, as though he wouldn't. As though he hadn't, while they were in the Unseelie. He shifted in his leathers and made a visible effort to keep from shaking as he simply nodded, unable to reply to the statement without doing so in an unnecessarily harsh manner. He only hoped that Thorin's appearance now was not a fluke, and that he would return to his family.

He could only take solace in knowing that Morgana would be too young to feel the neglect he felt now, when Thorin's next child would be born.

[Igraine]

When Kahlan was done healing what she would, Igraine was helped onto a stretcher and brought inside the castle. Kahlan directed the group to a large glass room that was built into the side of the castle near the water features on the castle grounds and with views of the sea. Inside it was something like seeing a hybrid. Part of the room was walled off with nothing but bookshelves and a cozy seating area right in the middle of it. Another part, nearer to the glass, was something of an apothecaries dream with hundreds of plants all grouped into a neat little forest. On the other end of the room there was ample seating and a few tables, an obvious meeting area. In one corner, with the best views, was a completely walled off area –obviously a bedroom.

“Igraine will stay here while she heals. Actually, Igraine, this is where I rested with you after having you.” When Igraine smiled, so did her mother. It was evident that there was love between them even if they didn’t show it as openly as most families might. Most families didn’t have to deal with ruling a country, much less being a Queen in three separate realms. Once Mab died Igraine would be the Queen of Ulster, the Queen of the Unseelie, and the High Queen of the Seelie. Quite a job description for a team, much less one woman, but Kahlan was confident in her daughter’s abilities.

Igraine was helped off the stretcher and onto a large lounge chair so she could recline. She raised her arms to Jace and beckoned him closer. It was a warming feeling in the pit of her stomach to see him with his half-sister. He had so many reasons to be bitter and yet he looked so happy to finally meet her. She gestured for him to sit, resting one of her hands on his arm as he cradled his sister.

“She likes you.” It was a simple statement, but it was obvious. Morgana’s smokey blue eyes were observing Jace very clearly, much clearer than any normal newborn might. She yawned big and wrinkled her nose and looked at Jace again, curious about this man holding her so comfortably. She gave up the battle and was quickly asleep in his arms.

“Careful, you might be asked to babysit if you can get her to sleep that easily!” Igraine said with a light laugh. She reached up and squeezed Nimue’s hand as the woman bent to wipe away some sweat from her neck and forehead.

“Nimue, you have been such a great help. Tell me, what have you decided to name your girl? She will be half-sister to Jace as well.” Igraine made a note to emphasize that Jace should realize that Morgana wasn’t going to be his only sibling, and quite possibly this child Nimue was carrying wouldn’t be the last.

“Her name will be Maira. I do believe Thorin picked it out.” Nimue said with amusement as she patted Igraine’s hand. “You are welcome at her birth if you desire it. It shouldn’t be too much longer, or at the very least I hope not! I feel like I’m going to explode!” Nimue and Igraine both laughed, Kahlan’s amusement was evident as she watched the whole episode unfold.

“Jace.” Kahlan’s voice was calm, collected, and soft. This creature, this woman, was old and it was evident in the grace of her movement and the way she held herself with dignity. She was not a woman used to being told “no”, and she had been the ruler of Kingdoms before her retirement to the Fae. As it was, Kahlan looked to be no older than maybe thirty years. She looked young, supple, and hardly older than the daughter she was watching over now. “I bet you would like to meet your grandmother. She’s a very interesting woman, you know. She will be along shortly, I’m sure. She didn’t want to bear witness to the birth of her granddaughter because she’s not entirely sure she wants to be thought of as that old yet.” Kahlan laughed then and shook her head, her fiery blonde hair sparkling in the brilliant sunlight filtering through the glass. She looked like an angel, and infamous as she was no doubt Jace had been told she was an arch angel by none other than Igraine herself.

“I can still hear, you know. I’m not deaf.” Isabella’s voice was slightly more musical and amused than Kahlan’s voice. She moved slowly across the room from the doorway and into the bright light of the room. She looked around with her vivid turquoise eyes, even from a distance the lavender flecks sparkled. Isabella wore a simple white gown with her chesnut brown hair pulled back into a ponytail – a sight that might make Thorin catch his breath. She looked only a little older than he would remember her at her death – and she looked just as regal now as she had then, if not more. She walked quietly to the group gathered around Igraine, touched the woman’s brow and smiled. She looked from Igraine, to Jace, to Morgana, to Nimue and her belly, and finally to Thorin.

“You’ve been busy.” She said with obvious amusement. Isabella reached out and touched Jace briefly on the shoulder, then brushed her fingertips along Morgana’s downy head, and nodded her head to Nimue. “I approve. You make fine children, though it could be the women that you are with that make them as fine as they are.” Isabella laughed and suddenly all the women joined in, realizing the joke on Thorin’s behalf.

“Roen, you are my oldest and you were my dearest. I regret that your father had to be such an idiot, and I regret having died giving birth to Caela. A lot would be different had that not come to pass. I am glad that I get to be near your children, my grandchildren, and I hope you see fit to bring them around often.” She already knew that Kahlan would take Morgana for Igraine once she had to leave.

“On that note, there will be a feast for all that will attend in honor of Morgana’s birth. Seelie and Unseelie are welcome, but we gather under peaceful terms. No fighting, and should any erupt you will deal with me.” Kahlan said, the last finished in a deadly quiet tone.

[Thorin]

Thorin watched the scene unfold, feeling some pride swell in his chest. When his mother appeared with her melodic voice, his posture straightened almost instantly. Vylrath's death had been more of a blessing. Thorin was only angry, that his sword hadn't been the reason for his father's death. He privately wished that he could honor his father's killer at the feast. They would never know who was responsible for bringing the tyrant to his end.

Only wanting a private moment with Igraine, he considered whisking her away so they could talk. With everyone being in one room, it made his thoughts spin. Igraine looked happy, peaceful even, but that wouldn't last. King Pendaran would have his beloved Igraine by his side and this moment would end. Looking at his mother, she appeared different since his father's death. Maybe the death of Vylrath, had lifted something dark from her. He knew the abuse that his father had given her and he hadn't spared sharing that with most of his children. Scars on his body, gave most people a visual of his father's past anger. Igraine was the lucky one who had gained his father's affection. Oddly enough, Thorin didn't possess any jealousy with that knowledge, but was grateful she had escaped that wrath.

From his own experience with Vylrath, his children would be treated differently. He would leave them alone to their own devices and only intervene as a mentor, or teacher. Parenting wouldn't come as second nature, but Nimue was helping him understand basic nurturing. Being around his only son was awkward for the both of them. Tension was obvious and he was certain the boy hated him, as much as he had hated his own father.

Isabella made him nervous, but it brought a certain amount of peace to his mind. Seeing her as a grandmother was awkward and he was sure it was even more-so from her point of view. At the mention of having so many children so soon, he responded with a quick smirk. “We will be having five more and I expect you at each birth with the same vigor.” On a more serious note, he expressed his thoughts. “I would have killed my father myself, if it had been left up to me. I would have tortured him slowly...if only we knew who was responsible, I would be treating them like a hero.” Shrugging his thought away, he quickly remembered Jace was present and hearing his words.

“This may be the last moment we have together, considering King Pendaran's desire to keep me separate from you.” Pausing, he realized the complexity of his relationship with Jace. They had just met each other, but he doubted he would be able to see him again. King Pendaran had once kept him from saving him, so he didn't doubt his power. Glancing at Igraine for a moment, he looked back to Jace.

“I did try to save you. I swaddled you in my own cloak and was stopped by some guardian. Their power forced me to abandon you, or I could have gotten us both killed.” Had it been cowardice? Maybe, but he also knew when to bow down and not risk another life. Knowing that his son had probably already made up his mind about him, he wondered if his words would even be taken to heart. Either way, he wondered what Igraine had been able to tell Jace and if he knew the truth. He was sure that he felt abandoned, just as he had felt neglected and unloved by Vylrath in his childhood.

“I will make sure that the Xanathi clan and our allies rally. You are a Xanathi, Jace. Xanathi men aren't easily beaten, or discouraged. Remember that.” Even if Vylrath had been killed, he had lived long enough to cause his reign of terror and leave a lasting impression. It would have taken a strong individual to destroy him. His father's strength, was the only thing that he would admire about Vylrath.

Feasting with the Unseelie would be a challenge. Not killing one would take all of his energy. Unsheathing his blade, he handed the weapon to Kahlan. “Keep this, since I doubt my own control..make sure that Jace receives it after the feast.” Giving up a prized sword was an unlikely gesture. It was a Vuri blade and forged by his own hands. Since Jace was part Vuri, he would be able to channel his energy into the blade. He would have to discover that on his own, unless he was able to train him. Thorin knew that possibility would never happen in the future.


“It's your choice to keep in contact with me. I will not have the freedom to visit you. King Pendaran will make sure of that. Nimue will give you directions to our home and you are welcome there anytime. I will more than likely be in my forge, if you do visit us.” He finished his words to Jace and watched his daughter reacting to her brother. It was all very touching, but he needed some private words with Igraine too.

Hugging his mother and patting Jace on the shoulder, he motioned toward Igraine. “If you don't mind, I would like some words alone with Igraine.” If he had to, he would lift her up himself and take her to a private bedroom.

[Sage]

Jace beamed under the praise and attention of Igraine and Isabella. He had indeed heard tell of Isabella in the past, and he was as excited to see her as he had been Thorin and Morgana, both. He was allowed a short moment of happiness, as he stared around at his family and took in their overwhelming combined presence. Kahlan, Igraine, and Isabella were sights to behold in the brilliant gold light, he only hoped that the feast would be as civil as this gathering.

As much as he wished he could count his mother among the peaceful gathering of the matriarchs, he found great joy in being in the presence of so many who seemed to genuinely care for him. He decided that a discussion with his father would best be left for later, but he could hardly contain himself when he used the opportunity of a crowded room to defend himself rather than speak to his own son in private about his birth.

" Save me from what? "

The words were harsh, cold, not at all what he had hoped his first would be to his father. But even Jace, the mild-mannered boy he had been raised to be, could not abide such an insane declaration.

" I have been well-cared for here, I'm happy. It doesn't always have to be fire and brimstone, you know. If you had spoken to Pendaran...reasoned with him... "

Jace shook his head, and lowered his voice, for fear of rousing Morgana. He caressed her gently, and pulled the folds of the covers closer around her round face. He couldn't bear to cause more violence and ill-feelings in his family.

" You could have seen me, if you had wanted to. "

His eyes had lost the joy and passion they had recently displayed. They were now cold, far more adult than a child's should need to be. It was unfortunate that he could not hold his tongue until they had time to speak properly, but perhaps he would take Thorin up on his offer and leave the Unseelie to visit him and his current mistress. He only hoped that Thorin could swallow his pride and speak with Pendaran before he left the Unseelie, so that he might return before another ten or twenty years.

[Thorin]

Thorin sighed at Jace's response. His reaction reminded Thorin of his first words with Vylrath. They hadn't been kind, but Vylrath hadn't even shared a glance, let alone words with him. Thorin was attempting to be a good father, but it looked as if all energy drained from him after Jace spoke. Rubbing at his head, he wondered if Jace would understand such a complex situation. It appeared that Igraine hadn't given him the finer details of that even.

In truth, being bocan complicated things even more, since King Pendaran would consider himself in control of Jace based on race. Instead of feasting with his family, he would more than likely be drinking after their conversation. Thorin took Morgana from Jace and placed her in Isabella's arms. She had come to experience being a grandmother and now she would get her chance. Morgana stayed calm, resting against Isabella.

“Walk with me. You can ask me anything you want, but I will not hide the truth from you.” Thorin motioned for him to follow him to a private area. Jace would have his chance to ask him anything he desired. He wouldn't be cruel like his father and deny him the knowledge. Making Jace understand his own place would be difficult. Giving Igraine a worried expression before he left, he made sure that his son could keep up with him.

Words between a father and son should be kept private, since the women would want their opinion heard. Keeping them separate from their family, would make it more possible for him to explain everything.

When he knew they were out of earshot from the others, he decided to speak directly to Jace. “King Pendaran has banished me from the realm. I could not have seen you, or even stepped foot. He is my enemy, but be thankful he is not yours. Just by being my son, he could have had you killed.” Not stopping to catch his breath, Thorin talked calmly to Jace, trying to make him see. “Because you are part Bocan, you are protected in his realm.”

Thorin was beyond the emotion of frustration. His son had been kept ignorant from facts, but he gathered that it was to save his innocence. “I don't expect you to see my view, hell, I just met you. We don't even know each other.”

His eyes turned dark. “But that's why we're here, isn't it? We can keep rehashing the past, or move forward.” Jace may never understand his hatred toward King Pendaran. Because of Igraine's forced marriage with him, he would never be the one by her side. He would always be forced to move on and only visit those memories. They would never be relived.

Thorin regretted never seeing Jace grow up, but there was little he could do about it. The past was the past and he had to focus on the present and future.

“I am not asking for forgiveness and I don't expect you to. Now is not the time to be fighting with each other- the war could indefinitely split us apart. You may eventually have to pick sides.” He doubted that Jace would side with them. The boy had been raised in King Pendaran's realm and hardly knew them. He was too young to fight and carry a blade into battle.

“I wanted to save you from being raised in that world. I wanted you to know your father, since I never had that chance.” Shrugging, he was at a loss and emotionally drained. Even though he thought he was out of earshot, his words were more than likely heard by Nimue, or Kahlan, possibly his own mother.

Thorin had wanted to save some part of him, when he tried to rescue Jace. Explaining his past, was like reopening a wound that had just been sealed.

[Sage]

Jace had grown up in the Unseelie. He had not had much direct contact with Pendaran, but his subjects were loyal, and held great respect for him. As far as he knew, the King of Winter's Court had always been kind to him. He was treated something like a prince, and could not remember ever having been denied anything. Thanks to this, Pendaran had his respect as well, and he had not yet seen a reason not to give it.

Apart from the Court, the strong influences in his life had been mostly female, and he had been shaped by that, more than anything. If he were a normal human child, he might be considered a bit of a brat, but he was even-tempered and well-mannered, a rarity in males of the Xanathi males. Jace had pictured his reunion with his father. He had picture a tearful greeting, slapped backs and exchanged stories. On the opposite side of the coin, he had imagined the possibility of awkward silences and sharing nothing in common.

Never in his life could he have expected stern speeches and lectures. He sulked as they walked, growing more annoyed by the second. Obviously Jace did not know Thorin's side of things, but could his father not see that the fate he had tried to 'save' him from had turned out to be a pretty decent life? It was all the boy knew, and he had no complaints.

" The others...they don't keep things from me, but...there are things we don't talk about. People talk about war in secret, and don't like to get me involved, but...most of all I want to know about my Mom. "

Jace rubbed his forearm through his fine leathers, idly bumping the hilt of the ceremonial blade he had brought, causing it to click and clank as they walked. He had grown into a handsome boy, he tended to change his skin tone using his Bocan powers to be more like his living family, but his features always remained the same. He was thin, and tall, for his age. He had soft features and long, almost feminine hair. Lastly were his amber eyes, marking him as what he was.

" Did you care for her? "

Thoughts of every whisper in every dark corner flashed in his mind. Things he had seen or heard that he wished he understood. Talk of conflict, betrayal, and deceit. His own birth had been a result of trickery, at the behest of the Court, but things like this were not shared with him, for fear of tainting his innocence...or destroying his neutrality. There was one thing he knew for sure, though. Regardless of whether or not he took sides in the war, he knew he would not let harm come to the people he cared for that were going to be involved.

" I won't pick sides, and I don't expect you to ask me to. But...I won't let anyone hurt King Pendaran. He's the only family I know on my Mother's side, I'd defend him the same as I would defend Morgana. "

[Thorin]

Thorin felt his soul being crushed all over again. When Jace asked him about his mother, he gave a mixed look of surprise and confusion. Opening his mouth to speak, words wouldn't form. Shadows began to creep around him, like sentient blackened daggers. The place began to drown him, but his sons words dragged him down further. Deciding that he would have little influence, he kept his promise and stated the absolute truth. King Pendaran was keeping Jace ignorant out of fear, or stupidity.

He had hardly known Lydia, so he wouldn't be able to describe her. Thorin decided to describe her treachery and how she had lured him to King Pendaran as some sort of prized gift. The love he had given Lydia, had been meant for Igraine. Maybe she thought to trap him, but he had used his shadow walking to take the infant from her instead. That same infant, was now standing in front of him, searching for some sort of connection with his father as a young man.

“I suppose they didn't teach you anything about your race either. Your mother would have abandoned you and left you.” Lydia was more than likely working behind the scenes and manipulating more individuals. Shaking his head, he was glad that his son didn't know his mother. He would have kept him away from her for his own sanity. The bitch had caused enough pain and torment. “You are here, because of Igraine's kindness.”

Jace was already deciding to support King Pendaran. With that thought, the shadows enveloped him in one swift movement. His voice would sound disembodied, the room would become thick with shadow that intercepted all light. Jace might sense his father's presence, but his actual form would be obscured by thick umbrage.

The others might feel the dark density, or sense Thorin's anger and hurt. It was too late to save his relationship with Jace. The boy had been tainted and raised under King Pendaran's care. He had been a fool for thinking there could be a glimmer of hope.

“If you defend Pendaran, then you are my enemy. If you defend him, then you are also Morgana's enemy.” Did Jace even know why they had to send Morgana away? “Morgana can't be with her own mother, because of the man you seek to protect.” Jace was confused for thinking that King Pendaran was worthy of such loyalty. King Pendaran was the one, who had given the Bocan rights, to use her power. Thorin told him this truth also. “He will seek to destroy Morgana, since she will be in line for the throne after Igraine.”

It was baffling how clueless his child was, but even more baffling, was his swelling anger. Had he revealed too much? Maybe, but the boy needed to be shown the truth of it all. His world was an illusion of safety.

Thorin became a living vaporous shadow, but it was not without element and substance. The boy was unprotected, save for his ceremonial sword, but he would never harm his own son. Passing his emotions to Nimue, he privately let her know his current thoughts on the situation. If there was one person he could count on, it was his wife.

This boy has already been poisoned. He has no use for me. He already has a father. I will return to Morgana after the feast. I need to vent my own frustration before I am in her presence again.

Surprisingly, Thorin didn't mention Igraine or the others in his message to her. It was as if the anger would only let him focus on one task at a time. The shadows would become a physical entity around his form. Jace might become overwhelmed with the visual, but Thorin was concentrating too hard to notice.

“You have already decided your place and I have already decided mine.” Without another word, Thorin left to his realm. It was as if he had never been. Jace would be left in an empty room, filled with the familiar light. He didn't know that Igraine and Morgana, would be able to see his form roaming the castle. In his view, it was his realm. He needed his own thoughts and to return to a better state of mind before he saw Jace again.

The thought of his son, defending the man who had taken everything he held dear, sparked a new kind of rage inside the Vuri.

[Sage]

Jace began experiencing emotions he had not yet felt in his short life. Frustration and rage began to boil up in him, and he feared that he would become hateful of his father after this first encounter. His fists shook, causing the fine leather around his fists to squeak with the tightening friction. Thorin made it all sound so complicated when in reality, to Jace, it was very simple:

The Xanathi's were his family. The Winter's Court was his family.

What kind of person would he be if he let his brothers and sisters tear each other apart, sit idly by as they tore at each other's throats? He listened in quiet contemplation as Thorin shared with him about his mother. He had not known her well, and was not surprised that she had done bad things in her life. Fear grew in him, quickening his heartbeat as he watched his father deteriorate into a childish tantrum.

He could see himself growing farther apart from his family, as he callously disregarded Jace's position and labeled him as an enemy. He even used Morgana against him, declaring outright that supporting one side of his family endangered the other. Nothing made sense in the world, and he felt as though he was drowning in his churning emotions, unable to grasp at logic and sanity to stay afloat.

He did not know how much of Thorin's words were truth, and how much were lies or psychotic ranting, but he would not be afforded the opportunity to make up his mind about his father before he verbally cast him away and disappeared. Fear and confusion melted away, and he was left with nothing but guilt and rage, a self-loathing that tore at his insides and made him double over when his father was gone. He felt as though he might be sick right then and there, on the floor before him, but when he opened his mouth what escaped was a sharply-pitched howl of pain and anger.

He had done nothing but behave himself and tell the truth, and now Thorin was gone again, calling him an enemy, betrayer of blood. It was in this frenzy that he lost himself and cast his full weight behind a blow directed at the wall. Leather and flesh tore as he made contact with the solid stone, and darkness splintered out from the crater he created in it. Tendrils of the room's shadow broke form and raced across the room, spearing back into it and destroying the furniture, carpets, and tapestries. His outburst lasted only a second or two, but it succeeded in completely draining the human color from his skin, as well as destroying every innocent inanimate object within fifteen feet of him.

He panted from the effort, and caught his weight against the crumbling stone with his uninjured hand. He did not bother to survey himself, he was positive he had broken his right hand, and he could not have felt more helpless and foolish. He knew, now, what it was like to be a Xanathi male.

[Thorin]

Thorin smirked, watching his son's outburst match his own anger. The boy had potential, but someone would have to help him mold that power. It was interesting that Jace had inherited his shadow ability, since his element was something obtained from training- not genetics. In one split second, Jace had been a level-headed young man and now he was showing the Xanathi rage with a parallel ferocity. King Pendaran might reign over him, but he would never grasp Jace's power struggle. Every Xanathi male went through this phase of discovery. Some came out of that phase a little more or less sane.

Fabricating himself near Jace, he kept himself silent for a moment. Even though he appeared out of control, Thorin had the ability to harness his power and he often mixed it with his anger. Ripping parts of his cloak, he took Jace's injured hand and bandaged it. The room would be in disrepair, but Thorin wasn't concerned with that at the moment. However, he knew that it would stir the women in the other room. Just the commotion alone would cause a panic with servants.

“When you feel that emotion, channel your power and you will have a more controlled outcome. Envision the result and it will be less chaotic. Never let the power or emotion own you.” Thorin circled him, looking for any other injury. He was impressed that the energy had come from his son. He hadn't counted on a half-breed having such raw energy. Jace was someone the King should be wary about.

This thought made him smile.

“I could teach you, but the training would not be pleasant, or for the weak. When you begin to master it, you can transfer that energy to weapons.” Thorin explained all of this in a softer tone, mostly curious about his son's reaction to the offer. Jace would have to travel to their home in order to train, but if he asked Queen Igraine, he doubted it would be an issue. He would hate to see such energy be wasted and out of control. Jace could end up going mad from not understanding his trait. Thorin had become consumed by shadow too often, to understand the impact that would have on ones mind.

“You have Vuri blood in you, so you may be able to heal yourself if you concentrate enough.” The boy looked like a quick learner, which was good enough for Thorin. Waiting, he wondered if Jace would try to mend his own wounds.

“After you've healed yourself, we can spar and strengthen some of your weaknesses. The room is already in shambles, so more destruction won't matter.” Shrugging, Thorin folded his arms and waited for Jace to make his decision. Jace would have to learn to defend himself eventually, so the lesson might as well come from his own father. Thorin wondered if he had the fighting spirit, or if the pampered life had killed most of that. From his earlier display, he doubted that had been completely extinguished.

Kahlan would be beyond pissed with him, along with his wife and Igraine, but now the damage had been done. Thorin had to try to at least save what had been severed.

[Sage]

Jace's frustration grew beyond the point of description, and he struggled with himself via an inner dialogue, whether he questioned if he was really seeing reality...or some vaguely-drawn hallucination. His breathing was labored and he clutched his wounded hand against his abdomen as Thorin reappeared, his mood immediately changed by Jace's outburst.

Why only when he acted like a blithering lunatic, fueled by rage, did his father understand him? He could only imagine the things that had happened to Thorin in his life to make him such a twisted being, and panic spread through him when he realized he might be taken down the same path, if he could not learn to control himself in a healthy manner. He did not face his father as he took the boy's hand and administered what aid he could, but instead rested his forehead against the broken wall, attempting to clear his mind before he said something he might regret.

" If you try to control such unstable emotions, rather than expressing them, you will drive yourself mad. I am not a soldier, not a fighter who must count on bloodlust and rage to survive on the battlefield. I'm just a boy, trying to get to know my father. "

When he turned to face Thorin, his skin would be greyed, his magical facade failing him while his mind screamed for answers. The expression did not reflect the sadness present in his tone, when he spoke. In fact, he resembled a wild animal, displaying their teeth to intimidate would-be attackers or prey. And that's exactly what he was: a predator.

His mouth, now filled with razor-sharp, steely teeth ground and shrieked as he fought against the urge to scream. Impressive claws extended from his fingertips, ruining the remains of his gloves as he flexed his palms.

" I am as much a Bocan as I am Vuri, and that is the difference between us. Even if I wanted to fight, father...I do not need to train. I need not toil away in an armory, sharpening my sword and practicing technique. My kind are a frenzy of death, coiled like a spring. "

There was shame in his eyes as he spoke, but it was the truth, the same as he had been speaking all along. If Jace needed to feed, or protect his kin, he would not make his presence known. There would be no words exchanged, or gauntlets thrown, and there would certainly be no swordplay or trickery. He would unleash himself on his meal, or hapless attacker with animal instinct and prevail, because if he attacked it would be because he must.

" I do not want to spar, or learn to make weapons, or war. If you cannot help but be violent, then so be it, but do not ask me to go against everything I stand for and spill needless blood. Why would you want that, for your son, who you call an enemy? Do you wish death so badly that you must create your own assassin? "

In the end, it wasn't Thorin's fault. He did not know Jace, and though they were alike, Jace was more than a Vuri, and less. He was something different from every other person who would try and help him on his journey, in some way. He would have his own struggles, wrestle with his own demons, being a half-breed. He did not complain, in fact he prided himself on embracing both sides of himself. But if he allowed himself to become a weapon, rather than a protector, then he would be forced to make impossible decisions when the inevitable happened. And he could not bear the thought of being made to kill his own flesh and blood.

" Can we not just be as we are, and act peaceably? Is destruction really the only thing you will allow yourself to have in common with me? "