Aidan

The Realms

Secondday, 5th week of the 9th month, Age of the Chosen 1

Early Afternoon

Aoife's Chambers, Termondoon, Mistvale Highlands

A throbbing, piercing headache was Aidan's reward for regaining consciousness. He groaned, raising his fingers to his temple and pressing against his skin. "Why," he croaked in complaint, "does channeling divine power have to hurt so much?"

"Yer headache isn't from magic; it's what ya get fer lettin' someone smack you in the head," Sunnild scolded. Aidan opened his eyes, but to his surprise, it wasn't her warm lap his head was cradled upon.

"Aoife?" he asked, blinking up into the golden gaze staring down at him.

"Idiot," Aoife replied, nudging his hands aside and rubbing his head. Aidan sighed at the partial relief from his pain. "Why did you do it?" she asked. "I'm not worth risking so much for." Her fluffy tail curled around his shoulders and twitched against his chest.

"You are," Aidan responded, "but it wasn't just for you. Ailill needed to die." A noise from nearby drew his attention, and Aidan spotted Sunnild sitting on the bed near his feet, her hands busy stroking Riama's fur. "Sorry, love," he told her, "but I don't believe there was any way to stop Ailill short of killing him."

Sunnild shook her head. "I know, but... did ya hafta be so... brutal?"

Before he could answer, Aoife said, "You didn't have to be the one to kill him. Searlas has other champions, and he's a seasoned warrior and duelist himself."

"I couldn't be sure Ailill wouldn't duplicate Searlas's tricks," Aidan told Aoife, "and I needed to be sure he died." Turning his attention back to Sunnild, he admitted, "It got away from me a bit. Thinking about what he did to those girls..."

"I know," Sunnild repeated, "but ya need to be better if yer gonna set an example, ya know? What ya did at the end is what ya shoulda done from the start."

"I disagree." Aidan blinked up at Aoife's unexpected intervention on his behalf. "I still don't think you should have fought, and aligning yourself so publicly with Searlas will bring you trouble. That said, invoking the name of your Goddess from the start would have left the impression that you're only a pawn. By defeating Ailill with your own strength and only bringing the Divinity into it once the fight was over, you established yourself as a player. The pageantry with that crown and calling yourself a King would have fallen flat if you hadn't backed them up with power, but you did."

Aoife smiled down at him, "And turning Searlas's demand back on him was inspired. Now he has to follow your lead, at least in public, regarding why you acted as his champion. Instead of being Searlas's lackey, you positioned yourself as his equal, maybe even his superior."

"I was acting mostly on instinct and intuition," Aidan admitted. "I knew I could win the fight, but without knowing Ailill's capabilities, I had to be flexible. Hell, half the spells I used—the dome of fire at the start and the divine punishment at the end—were variations that I came up with this morning. I didn't expect my prayer to Brigantia to result in divine intervention, let alone so ... vigorous of one."

"So that was the Goddess speaking through you?"

Aidan nodded, then winced at the resulting surge of pain. "Yeah. It was just supposed to be a beam of silver fire that would burn Ailill to a cinder. I guess They decided to remind me not to use Their names in vain." He sighed, then—slowly—turned his head to look at Sunnild. "You're right that I need to be better. I don't regret fighting him, and I needed to do something to take him out of the fight, but burning his eyes out like that was a step too far. I didn't plan to, but the way he dismissed those girls' deaths..."

Sunnild slumped and looked away but didn't respond. Aidan struggled to sit up, then reached out and pulled the harpy into his arms, ignoring Riama's aggrieved complaint in his mind. She didn't resist, but she didn't cuddle into his embrace like usual, either. "Are you okay?" he asked her.

She jerked her head up as if to start nodding, hesitated, then shook it. "I dunno," she whispered. "I was scared. Scared for you, then... scared of you. I don't like bein' scared of you." Sunnild wrapped her wings around herself, huddling in Aidan's embrace.

Sunnild's words and actions tore at Aidan's heart, even more so because he was the cause. He didn't know whether to tighten his arms around her or give her space. Making matters worse, Aidan could feel Aoife's eyes boring into his back, watching and judging.

"I'm sorry for frightening you," he told Sunnild. "I wish I could swear an oath to never do it again, but I can't. As much as I hate it, fear is a tool I can't discard. The duel was an audition, not just for Searlas but for his entire tribe. I should have told you both what I was planning so that you could prepare for it or persuade me to do something else, but I was too wrapped up in my emotions."

Sunnild sniffled and shuddered, then leaned into Aidan's embrace. She kept herself cocooned in her wings, but Aidan still felt a surge of relief. "I don't like it here. Slaves, lies, and cruelty. I wanna go home. I miss Brighid."

Aidan let out a sigh and kicked himself for forgetting just how young and innocent Sunnild was. "I'm sorry about that, too. I didn't think things through very much when I asked you to join me on this mission. I don't regret spending the time with you, but this wasn't the right place for it. I really fucked things up this time. If you want, you can go back home now; I think I'm safe here now, at least physically."

"No!" Sunnild whimpered. Her arms emerged from between her wings and wrapped around Aidan's chest. She clung to him with desperate strength and begged, "Don't send me away!"

"Ahh," Aidan groaned, "I'm making a mess of everything today!"

"You are," Aoife said as she shifted, "and you're not." She stretched a hand out across Aidan's shoulder, caressing Sunnild's exposed crest-feathers, and said in a soothing tone, "Lord Aidan doesn't want to send you away, Lady Sunnild. He's trying to apologize to you, to let you pull away from something that's causing you pain. Don't blame him for putting his foot in his mouth while doing so; he's a man, and they tend to do that."

That drew a giggle from Sunnild. Aidan shot the catfolk woman a grateful look; she winked back at him, then continued, "I don't claim to know everything going on behind the scenes here, but it is clear that Lord Aidan cares a great deal for your feelings, even if he's bad at thinking about them ahead of time. At the same time, you're going to have to accept that because he's a Lord, Aidan has responsibilities beyond taking care of you. Sometimes that's just going to come into conflict, and he's going to have to choose which path to follow. If you feel for your Lord what he does for you, it's up to you to support him even when his duty compels him to do something you don't like.

"And speaking of doing things we don't like," Aoife said, her tone shifting, "Searlas expressed a desire to meet with you once you awoke, Lord Aidan. We can put him off for a while, either by pretending you are still unconscious or saying that you're unwell, but not forever."

"Did he say what the meeting would entail?"

"Yes. He said it was time to discuss formal relations between your lands and his."

"Best not to keep him waiting too long, then," Aidan said with a sigh. "Do you think I have time to take a bath?"

"Of course, my Lord. I'll send for hot water at once."

Aidan

Mid-Afternoon

Searlas's Manor, Termondoon, Mistvale Highlands

"Ah, Lord Aidan, I am glad to see you recovered quickly. Please, have a seat." Chief Searlas sat behind a solid-looking desk made of dark wood. Several stacks of documents rested on the desk's surface, although the catfolk Lord scooped them up and deposited them into a drawer as Aidan approached. To Aidan's surprise, none of Searlas's female attendants were present.

Aidan settled into the heavy wooden chair and settled into the plush cloth cushions lining its seat and back. He had to admit, Termondoon had far more in the way of luxuries than the Starchaser village, let alone Ceallach Macht. Sunnild, wearing her armor, remained near the entrance with Searlas's guards; Aoife knelt at Aidan's side and rested her head against his thigh. Searlas raised his eyebrows at that but did not object out loud.

"Thank you," Aidan acknowledged his counterpart's greeting. "Aoife said that you are ready to discuss matters of state?"

"Indeed," came the smiling reply. "Your little display earlier today dealt quite a blow to my enemies. You exceed my expectations at every turn, Lord Aidan. Before we begin, here is the non-aggression pact you requested as a price for acting as my champion." Searlas took a few sheets of paper from a drawer and slid them across to Aidan.

Aidan read through the document several times, looking for loopholes or omissions, but didn't find any. Searlas's signature waited at the bottom of the last page, and after scanning through it one final time, Aidan added his signature.

"Excellent! I will have my scribe make copies for you and send them to Aoife's chambers. Speaking of whom..." he shifted his gaze to the collared slave. "Speak the truth and only the truth until you leave this room. First, is it your earnest, heartfelt desire to leave my service and enter Lord Aidan's?"

"Yes," Aoife replied without a second's hesitation.

"Why?"

The second question gave her pause. "Because," she started slowly, "I am unhappy in your 'service'; you treat me as an object more than a person. I am not a prize to be won or a jewel for your crown. Because Aidan never acted like I deserved anything less than his utmost respect. And," she cut off for a moment, then spat out, "because he is the best lover I have ever had. Attentive, skilled, open-minded, and with the biggest—"

"Yes, that will do," Searlas interrupted her. He wore a pained expression and refused to meet Aoife's defiant stare. "One last question, then. Did I ever order or ask you to seduce or entrap Lord Aidan?"

"You! You! Aaaagh!" Aoife sprang to her feet, hissing with rage. Aidan frowned at the two catfolk, unsure what was happening, but sure he didn't like it. "No," she finally admitted through clenched teeth, "you did not explicitly order or request me to seduce or entrap Aidan, but the implication was plain to me."

Searlas sighed and leaned back in his chair, gesturing at Aoife. "So you see how it is," he said to Aidan. "I do not wish you to enter this agreement on false pretenses. Do you still want to move forward?"

Aidan eyed Aoife. "You told me that he ordered you to seduce me and that you couldn't disobey."

"I cannot disobey," she retorted, "or I would have lied just now. As for sleeping with you, I believed it to be the intent of Searlas's instructions to me, and that is what matters to the collar." Aoife glared at Searlas. "What else was I supposed to think when you told me that he would be sleeping in my chambers and to take good care of him?"

The Chieftan had the grace to look abashed. "Well, when you put it that way..."

Aoife's golden eyes returned to Aidan. "You know by now that my current owner and I do not get along. I never wanted to mislead you, Lord Aidan, but I did have my own agenda in sleeping with you. Can you blame me for wanting freedom?"

"You knew nothing about me that first night," Aidan said. "How could you be so sure that I wouldn't be a worse owner? From everything I've heard over the last two days, Searlas might not be perfect, but he's never been cruel to you or any of his other servants."

"He has not," Aoife admitted, "not in the way you mean. As for you being worse? Lord Aidan, even with six goblets of strong wine in you, you did not so much as touch me except by accident until I forced the issue. You looked a lot, but I can hardly blame you for that when I was dressed as I was. And you were respectful in your speech, as well; many men would have spurned my advice or given me orders. Not only did you listen, but you acted on what I told you. You might have been putting up a false front, but I considered it worth the risk."

Aidan nodded. That all made sense, as far as it went. He still felt like he was missing a piece of the puzzle, but with Aoife acting under a compulsion to tell the truth, he felt confident enough to proceed. "Alright. I'm sure I'll have more questions later—if nothing else, I want to learn more about you, Aoife—but I'm satisfied enough for now."

"Then here is the Oath I want you to swear," Searlas said, handing over another piece of paper. Aidan took it from him and read it.

Let's see... this is all pretty straightforward. Except... "This clause," he said, tapping a line of text. "'I will not touch or strike Aoife with intent to cause harm.' I'm supportive of the intent, but it leaves loopholes I cannot accept. I would propose adding, 'unless in defense of myself or another.' to that clause."

Searlas frowned. "Did you forget the other day? Once I transfer ownership, Aoife would not be able to attack you."

"Then there's no harm in changing it, is there?" Aidan snorted. "Besides, I have no way to be sure that the bracelet works as you said. It's possible that this has all been an elaborate ruse and that Aoife would be acting as a sleeper agent in my home. I don't think that's what's happening here, but I need to protect myself from the possibility."

"Very well," the catfolk Lord granted, waving a hand through the air, "as you say, there is no harm in it. I will have my scribe make the alteration. Do you have any other concerns?"

Aidan returned his attention to the parchment. I don't see any other gotchas. That said, let's get some extra opinions. "Aoife, what do you think?" Aidan handed the sheet over for her to read. She's still operating under Searlas's truth order—unless he gave her another command earlier that overrides it. Augh, I'll work my mind in knots thinking that way.

"I do not see anything objectionable, Lord Aidan, although there is always a danger that one Oath might come into conflict with another. I do not believe there is any need for this one, especially after your Goddess's warning."

"I am not so trusting, I am afraid," Searlas interjected. "I mean no offense, Lord Aidan; I would not even entertain this if I believed you would mistreat Aoife. Still, her situation leaves her uniquely vulnerable to abuse, and I would not sleep well if I handed her over without ensuring her protection."

"Sunnild, what do you think?" Aidan asked, taking the sheet back from Aoife and walking it over to her.

"Me?" she squeaked, then squared her shoulders. Her face scrunched up in concentration as she read through the paragraph several times. Finally, Sunnild looked up at him and said, "I'm not really an expert on this, ya know? But it doesn't seem like anything ya need ta worry about. You wouldn't strike her with the intent to cause harm, so it looks safe ta me."

Aidan nodded and gave her a quick kiss before returning to the chair with the paper. "I'm inclined to agree," he said. "Let's talk about your final provision, then. Why should I accept a spy into my household?"

"You need someone to train servants for you," Searlas said, not even denying the accusation. "The person I have in mind can help you with that. Further, I have no objection to you reviewing the reports that they will send to me. I only wish to be sure that Aoife is happy in your care."

"Then leave me free from your interference!" the woman in question exclaimed. "Do you think it will make me happy knowing that one of your minions is watching everything that happens to me?"

Searlas closed his eyes and sighed. It made him look at least a decade older than normal. "Very well. A compromise, then. I will loan you one of my trusted servants with the intent that he train a counterpart for you, Lord Aidan, that you can use as the seed of your servant corps. Who he teaches is up to you, of course, although I suggest you listen to his advice. He will need access to you to perform his job; that cannot be changed. When he returns—I doubt it will take more than a season—I hope to gain at least some small peace of mind from what he tells me. Is that sufficiently hands-off for you, Aoife?"

"I doubt I will get anything better," she admitted.

"And Lord Aidan?"

"I still don't see why I should take in someone whose explicit purpose is to spy on me, especially if they're going to have access to my private life."

"Because that is my price," Searlas said, steel creeping into his voice. "Aoife may not believe it, but I do care for her wellbeing. I will not send her off to foreign lands under the control of someone that I have known for less than half a week without some assurances." He held Aidan's gaze for several seconds, then relaxed a fraction and said, "There is no reason why you could not have my agent escorted at all times. He can only learn what you allow him to."

Aidan grimaced but had to acknowledge the point. He'd thought the same when Searlas first proposed the condition. "Alright. We have an agreement in principle, but I want a written contract before I swear the Oath. I mean no more offense than you did earlier, but I have been warned about verbal agreements with Mist Stalkers."

That, at least, earned him a slight smile. "Of course, that is prudent of you. I will have my scribe deliver it along with your copy of the non-aggression pact. Now then, that concludes my business with you; what would you ask of me?"