AN: This is the only planned instance of riding with a Lord. Once they reach red book secrets, we can no longer carry on with them. I wondered why he'd agree to it and figured it was for Theon and to show the struggle to watch this happen as a father.
This is the last chapter for the summer. Returning in the fall will be Theon, Graydon, Maeno, Trild, Kal (the war mage), Selifer, Alena, Jasor, and on rare occassions, Nillon. Nendan is still auditing the elemental magehood but has reached his red books.
His summer began with the ball, with him coming upon Graydon, the silver spell knife out and ready, moving upward as Naena spun out magic just a dragon's distance away. His summer began with his feet locked in place as if encased in ice as Graydon did what they drilled into their boys.
His Hell began with Graydon's blade just shy of his neck and Naena preventing the loss of life.
But his damned feet wouldn't move.
He knew their place in the world. The duties they held, the things they had to do to ensure the sun rose another day. He knew that and thought he was at peace with it but seeing Graydon there about to cut his own throat and throw his soul at a dragon to cast it back after the life he'd had?
That was when the first pains began, but he ignored them in favour of the immediate.
Theon's, "That wasn't a fucking pirouette," jolted him out of his frozen stance. He turned his head as Drune stepped up beside him. Kaulu took control of the scene, with them immediately dismissing it. Naena had obsessively researched the Bard, and she had been practicing a large spell. She had even asked if she could perform such a spell and was told it was impossible.
For several days after, no one saw Naena or Graydon. The servants left food outside the door, and it was retrieved. That was as much as any of them cared. Then, one morning, Luk walked around a hedge—headed for his reading spot with a cup of tea—when he spotted Naena and Graydon sharing a seat. Her practically in his lap, comfortable and laughing at something he said. Graydon had an easy smile on his lips, an arm wrapped around her shoulders.
And it broke his heart.
There was no precedence. Luk knew he could argue that, but the lords would never accept a sword and shield married. To lose both lord and lady if a job went wrong? No, it'd never pass a vote.
He knew he should have clipped it then and there, but he could hardly blame either of them for a moment of happiness in the cruel lives they faced.
So, he slunk back and gave it several moments as the sound of her giggle drifted off to nothing. Then he dragged a foot on the pathway before he stepped back around the hedge.
He tried to connect with Graydon and felt like he failed. As Trathor's spell came up, the pain returned, and he worked through it, clenching and unclenching his left hand as pinpricks worked their way up. When Theon gave him an opening, he took it. He went immediately to Ewer and asked for a pack but then stressed that he could not, under any circumstance as Lord Pan, allow the use of any heirlooms of magicked items that a shield might normally use because he could not by law do that.
Ewer had always been a smart man.
He worried, though, so he flitted out to check on them often.
Because of their connection, Luk could use any of Theon's spells, but the flit only worked if it was directly to or away from Theon.
During one of those flits, instead of going home, he found his way to a small cottage near Riverend. Where a young woman waited for the birth of her first child and the return of her supposed husband-to-be. Carrying a bloodwood chip, he explained everything to her. She'd never speak of it to anyone but her husband-to-be unless she uttered the words. Then the chip he planted in the cramped one-room cottage would alert the necessary Pan members.
He flitted back to Theon then. The night of Trathor's spell, when he wanted to be nowhere near Amos or mages, Luk flitted back out. He settled in to watch, wrapped in a Pan cloak and invisible so long as he didn't move.
When Naena went off, he settled himself down and waited until the woman left Theon's tent. He let himself in, feeling the flickering attention of the wiccans brushing over him.
There, in that tent, he felt normal for a time. Until he realized it was just Theon in a cloud, and that was all it was—a moment. As he left, his chest tightened. He flitted back to his study and bent over, groaning from the pain. Dots of sweat appeared on his forehead, and for a moment, he feared he was having a heart attack.
He called Qual only to be handed a wort.
"Excuse me?" he demanded.
"There's nothing wrong with your heart," Qual said. "Yet. But if you take too many more attacks, it will be damaged. Feels like it is because it can be damaging. Now is best. There's time before school starts. If we determine any side effects are approaching an unacceptable level, we can taper off. Luk. Look at me. Don't let your pride get in the way. Take it."
"I like living," he said. "I'll take it. Thank you. Is it reportable?"
"To... who?" Qual asked. "Lord of the Seven, you might want to know Lord Pan had an anxiety attack when his son almost committed suicide? Then had another one when he crept about like he does and remembered how he needs his shield more than his shield needs him?"
"Fuckin' Qual," Luk protested.
"You need to talk to one of them," Qual said. "If you won't, I'll go stab one, so you have to. Your choice."
"You can't stab Theon."
"Why ever not? A little stab, a little hello, then I tell him I stabbed him because I told you I would if you didn't talk to one of them, and you didn't, so he comes to you to find out why I stabbed him because of you."
Luk swore under his breath.
"Quit complaining about it, you know I'm right," Qual said. "But... maybe tell your wife before she sees the bottle. Unless you want this bound."
"Not from her."
He thought that was the end of it. Until Theon and Naena went out and returned a second time. He was relaxing in his study, the wort finally taking hold and working properly, when Graydon came to take a strip off him about his heart. Luk only realized that Theon told Graydon about his heart by listening between the words.
Which meant the touch in the tent was because Theon felt Luk's agitation and was trying to calm him. His fury at that—that Theon would reach out like that but not actually reach out—made him see red. He threw Graydon out if only because if he saw him again, he'd hunt down Theon instead. It'd be a fight that would cause even more problems. He effectively took a step back by sending Graydon off with Naena to Riverend, where he knew the pair had travelled before.
Before the summer's start, he thought Graydon had been showing her the trails and camping areas he considered his childhood stomping grounds.
When Graydon returned, Naena and Theon went off once more, and Graydon and Luk went to a cottage Lugh kept by a creek. With the windows open, the creek could be heard all through the night, softening the edges of his nightmares. The bed was warm, but it would have been warmer with Theon there, sleeping back-to-back to keep watch.
Lugh could tell him the cottage was secure as often as they liked. Luk found it hard to sleep on the road without Theon. He had tried with Elena, which resulted in nearly sleepless nights as he tried to stay alert to protect her.
The first night was the worst.
Especially the next morning when Graydon took one look at him, went back into the room and returned to set a bottle of valerian before Luk.
"Boy—"
"Don't 'boy' me," Graydon said as he sat across from Luk. "Lugh is an offensive defence. If they say it's safe, we trust but verify. You said that. I verified. So, it's safe. Means we can sleep, means we do what we need to make sure we sleep so that we can be better when we leave safety."
"Who said that?"
"Me," Graydon said. "I can't sleep with you tossing and turning in the next room. Naena's been pulling away. I need—I need sleep. So, you take it, or I'm shoving it down your throat. Your choice."
The first day they wandered about the cottage. Luk was restless because he had been since Theon retired. Graydon appeared restless in a bored fashion. In the afternoon, Luk dug out cards, and they played a few hands as Luk waited for the inevitable conversation. There was always conversation when he played cards.
Just not, apparently, with Graydon.
They were taught card games in case they needed to make quick money on the road, but also because it encouraged friendly competition and kept the mind sharp. Which was to say Luk, used to playing cards with his wife and daughters, quickly found himself struggling to break even in a game.
It was as he thought that, that he realized the issue.
When he played cards with women or girls, a conversation followed. That conversation followed because they started it.
"So," Luk said, laying down a card.
"Mm?" Graydon grunted in response.
"Well, I'm struggling as I realize I know little about you," Luk sighed as he lowered his cards. "What am I to do? Ask about a lover—which I know you don't have?"
"Naena fills quiet with more quiet," Graydon said. "I find it calming. It's a different quiet than the quiet she gets when she's planning something. When we talk, she's going so fast, and I'm just trying to remember what I'm supposed to clip, and none of it ever works."
"You don't need to clip her unless you want to clip her," Luk said. "Unless I give you a direct order."
"Magi chakra doesn't need clipping?" Graydon asked. "Do you know how much time I spent distracting her and redirecting her off that?"
"I'd say that was a smart move," Luk countered. "The books say that if you start, you need to finish, or you explode. The truth is, if you make it past the fourth—well, boom."
"You didn't know?"
"Oh, we know nearly everything," Luk said. "But her reading list is well known, yes. They're still combing through the list to explain the boundary theory. It sounds valid, but we're having trouble pinning it down."
"Because you have a research group reading the books instead of sitting one person down with all the books and asking them to find the references," Graydon said, dropping a card.
Luk picked it up and began rearranging his cards.
"I saw you've been making your way through her list," Luk said. "Anything?"
"Mainly as a second or third-hand account," Graydon responded. "So and so broke the spell by bending the boundary out, and the rest leaked away. No one studies it, but they sure like to complain about it."
"Interesting," Luk murmured.
Pretty well all of their conversations over those three weeks went like that. The quietest Graydon was, was when they fished the creek. But that was a simple, contented silence.
Duty called, and those three weeks passed all too quickly.
When he walked in on Theon raging at the banker, to Sorrow's Keep rattling to its very bones, ready to respond, he felt a welling in his chest, a hope he hadn't felt in so long that he had to take a moment. That hope withered when they sat to talk to Nendan, and Lord Lugh turned to Theon to speak.
Luk expected Lugh to plan something. He expected Nendan to have this conversation for the sake of him as Lord Pan, but the entire thing appeared to be a pre-emptive apology to Theon.
When he arrived home, he arrived to the Pan representative waiting for him in his study. He muttered a curse.
"What's my name?" the man asked.
Luk blanked as he walked around his desk.
"I beg your pardon?" he countered.
"I'm expendable."
"So am I," Luk responded.
"Lord Pan," the representative said firmly. "I am expendable to Pan, to the point where you, who made every effort to learn my children's names, can no longer recall my name. Does Pan want someone expendable at Amos this year?"
"You do good work."
"But your brother would do better work and is not disposable."
"You want me to tell a man in his prime that he has to leave the field for desk work?" Luk asked. "Do you know how that will look?"
"It will look like you understood Trild Kaulu was taking the representative position and were positioning Pan to stand against Kaulu should they get out of line. And you'd do that by pulling your baby brother, with a reputation well founded on rebellious mages, from the field and putting him in Amos. He'd be sharp, he'd miss little, and with the war mage first year, you need someone with a sword for a cock instead of meat."
"What war mage?" he asked.
The representative frowned, then swore.
"They aren't required to disclose that. Trild Kaulu is their representative, and now a wildling mage about Naena's age, rumoured to be a true war mage like Theon, is about to enter the school."
"Well, that was a buried lead," Luk said. "I doubt my brother will agree. You tell him. If he agrees, yes, I will accept your resignation. We could use someone on a project regarding instinctive magic users."
"Oh?"
"Naena has archromatopsia," Luk said. "Basically, she can see magic. She's still casting spells, but as a mage forms a spell with his magic using the guide—"
"She can see it and change it," the representative said. "Right. What does he like to drink?"
"Doesn't drink, smoke, and I've never heard of a bed partner."
"I want the research job," the man protested.
"Then go convince my brother to take the representative job. Don't worry. He won't hurt you physically. He'll just give you that look of his. Like he's your father and very disappointed in your behaviour but also your mother at the same time, furious because you've just smashed her mother's urn."
"Looks can hurt too, you know."
"Get out of here," Luk said with a chuckle and a wave of his hand.
In the silence that followed, Luk felt a tremor of terror.
Kaulu hadn't formally announced the change in their representative.
But then, Trild Kaulu was born in the scales.
He and one other were born in their generation, though Luk had yet to find the name of the second. Andle and Graydon were born under the scales, allowing their grandfathers to immediately take control of the boys, teaching them based on the scale books. Born under the scales meant that the Lord of the Seven dictated everything about one's life.
Being born in the scales meant that interference from the Seven was minimal. If Trild got his pants in a knot, stumbled upon a war mage, and decided to forge with the man, he'd be welcomed back home as if that had always been the plan. Kaulu wasn't likely to report the bond until they had a public declaration to make.
Until Andle was calm enough to make that public declaration without snarling.
Something nagged at Luk. He headed out, finding his way to a secret place, an unspoken place. As he stepped into the cavern, he felt the weight of generations. The burden of duty settled upon his shoulders as he walked across the invisible bridge to the scaled books, which filled three low shelves. A pile of scales collected on the stone altar in the middle of the platform. As he approached, another scale drifted from the ceiling, lazily weaving back and forth as it floated down.
The problem with the scales was that one couldn't even think of their secrets within their presence. That made it harder to recall the problems and questions one had to ask. Yes or no questions worked best.
"Is Nendan Lugh in the scales?"
A low hum answered his question before the scales lit up in the affirmative.
Luk swore.
Being in the scales meant whatever Nendan planned, his father would support him. As a father should, certainly, but Luk's mind began racing as he questioned whether Nendan was about to make a play for Lord of the Seven.
The scales could tell him no more without an appropriately worded question, so he left. He paced his study, reviewing anything Nendan had sent or said to him.
He would pull the vote, force the others to make the change. Lugh would take the title.
The second he was no longer in control, they'd dig into the files. He'd be forced to turn them all over. Then everyone would know. Luk had spent decades silencing anyone who might speak.
And then they'd...
He didn't remember throwing the desk. His rage was not completely unseen but usually better controlled. That was probably why he found himself roaring at nothing in particular as Theon walked in, a blade concealed in his hand as the shield sighed.
Theon looked annoyed like he did anytime they answered a call for a hoity-toity lady whose cat got lost.
"He's fine," Theon called toward the door in the silence as Luk struggled, realizing what was happening around him. "Close the door."
The door closed, and Luk allowed that much. He could have taken complete control immediately, kept the door opened and stopped his feet. Yet as the urge rose, Luk found himself staring at a mage whose opinion mattered to him.
That bit of him that he normally turned outward when he required immediate obedience turned inward instead. Luk knew then was not the time.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"Well," Theon said, practically cutting the word off. "After what Nendan said, I went to your researchers and asked them what my rights were, and they told me a bit. So I went to Qual, and this seems to be about the time you started," Theon motioned around them. "So, when I do things like that, it's because you are in crisis? I never realized."
"Perfectly willingly," Luk added sharply, not wanting a fight with Theon right then. "The bond makes it possible for you to know. It doesn't make you act upon it."
Theon made a sound as the blade hit the rug, and he slipped his hands into his pockets as he sighed.
"I'd say we need a ritual," Theon said. "But this was a pointed destruction. So, what started this?"
"Personal secret, Lugh is aiming to take the title, which means they'll know."
"That you slept with a man and said it was the best sex of your life?"
"No, not that. And that was before my wife, thank you."
"Oh, is this an honest-to-goodness Seven secret type of trouble?"
Luk sucked in a breath and looked to the door, then to Theon.
"Right," Theon said. "I've seen that look before, and I have no idea what to do besides offering a drink. Drink?"
"Please," Luk said weakly.
Theon reached into the air. Luk heard a disembodied voice swear as a bottle of amber liquid appeared in one of Theon's hands and two glasses in the other. Theon poured a drink for Luk, which he accepted, then one for himself. Theon downed the drink, looked at the glass, then threw it against the wall.
The glass shattered against the wall.
"Theon," Luk protested.
It wasn't lost on him how heavy the glass in his hand felt. The glass should have bounced, not shattered.
"Already buggered," Theon said, swigging from the bottle. "So, I propose we drink half this bottle, and I flit us someplace where we can get more while we finish this bottle. Then we burn a city to the ground and watch from the Mason bell tower to get a nice look at the flames."
Luk downed his drink, tossed the glass to the side without trying to break it, and reached out, making a motion. Theon held out the bottle, which Luk took and then swigged from.
"Also, you're an idiot if you think Lugh wants Lord of the Seven," Theon said.
"He has a point to prove."
"And a proofing," Theon said.
"Theon, that entire thing he did was a preface, a pre-emptive apology to you," Luk said before he took a swig and held out the bottle. "If I die, I've willed you to Graydon—don't get that look. It's a way to keep you safe, but it will only work if Graydon still lives. If Lugh takes the title—"
"He won't."
"How can you be so damned certain?"
"He hadn't told daddy," Theon said with a shrug and a little smile as he took the bottle. "Good boy, Maeno. Took a while. No, I'm aware. Still going to bruise him."
"You're aware?"
"I know what he's up to," Theon said. "If that's your concern, it's not a concern. He's not coming for your title."
"He was born in the scales."
The bottle hesitated, almost to Theon's lips. It lowered a little.
"I accept the binding of shield for this time and place. Now explain what that means because Andle and Graydon were born under the scales. That I understand. Scales also indicate deep secrets for the Seven. How can one be born in them?"
Luk explained. Once he finished explaining, he also added the information he had about Trild. Since learning the boy was born in the scales, he had done everything in his power to keep a close eye on him.
"I'm starting to see where you panicked," Theon said, taking a moment to gulp several mouthfuls from the bottle before he held it out to Luk. "I've seen Trild watch a baby animal die a gruesome death without reaction. Your father tried the same thing with Graydon, and he did that," he shook his hands by his sides as Luk growled and took a swig.
"No comment on the war mage."
"When one of her is born, so too is one of him," Theon said. "Shorel seemed to imply he was my counter. You people said her counter was dead."
"Thought he was," Luk responded.
"Means I get to bloody my teeth," Theon responded.
"On a mage, we know nothing about. One who holds allegiance to the family who holds all the intelligence the Seven have collected on war mages."
"With a family whose heir is a chunk of muscle who likes to laugh like herr herr herr," Theon said, mocking Andle. "Besides, if they've forged, that means I get to kick the shit out of Trild the second he steps out of line."
"He's a cripple."
"Who may have a shield because there's no way a war mage appears at Amos without Kaulu making an issue of it unless that mage is linked to them."
"There..." Luk swore. "There was talk from Nendan about time-honoured traditions."
"What?" Theon demanded.
"He said," Luk said, hesitated, and then continued, "Nendan said that it's odd that we turn to rape as a tool to control mages. It seems odd when we talk about Gray and Pan the way we do. He posited that this was encouraged because it had once worked."
"The Hell does that mean?"
"That," Luk made a little motion between them. "Please don't kill him."
"Tell me what he said," Theon demanded.
"He said there is a clear link between how close the sword and shield are and how well they performed. Therefore, the time-honoured traditions may have been created to encourage intimacy with one's shield that one wouldn't show one's own wife and—"
"And we were the example," Theon growled out.
"Intimacy isn't just sex."
"I... am learning that," Theon said, clearly struggling to get the words out. Luk offered him the bottle and watched as his friend took a swig and then lowered the bottle. "That day in the tent... I think I... I think I wanted to..."
"You wanted what we haven't had," Luk countered. "This is not—it's never been—why am I trying to reassure you after so many years? You and I know what this is, right?"
"I knew."
"Yeah, we knew what it was."
"Now the rules are different."
"That doesn't mean we have to have sex to be in each others' lives," Luk countered. "Let alone whether we could. The spell is permanent."
"Right, that," Theon muttered, taking another swig before offering Luk the bottle.
"Kind of sounds like you want to take us to another level, though," Luk said, sipped, then held the bottle out.
Theon growled but took the bottle back.
"The next level would be sex, that's not—"
"That's not the next level," Luk said. "The next level would be intimate conversations, like this one, where we discuss the possibility of doing that."
Theon muttered a curse. He drank from the bottle, worked his lower jaw, then took another drink.
"You mean talk about anything?" Theon asked. "Our history, what I think of the world? Like... like..."
"During the ritual," Luk said. "When we'd just talk. But all the time. Or more of the time."
"I'm not telling you what he's planning," Theon responded with a wicked smile.
Luk swore at Theon, who laughed and offered the bottle back.
Who raised the bottle, sighed, and said, "To the new school year."
"Why are you toasting that nonsense?" Theon asked as they appeared on the street somewhere.
Luk heard a dog howl in the distance. Others joined in as he brought the bottle to his lips, gave the barest of nods and took a swig.
"Let's toast to being ordinary, average-looking fellows," Theon said with a grin.
"You still remember that spell?" Luk asked.
"Remember it? My dear, I've never stopped using it."