After the Escape

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When Thea left the room, Jasille quickly finished with Dimaethor before telling the healer, "I'm going to help her...if you are able, get him to safety." He nodded at Dimaethor, his grey eyes stormy with worry and anger. Gripping the hilt of his sword, he left the room, and took the stairs down three at a time. When the men at the bottom tried to stop him, he threw one against the bar, catching sight of blood against its blunt edge. While other patrons backed away or left, he searched the room, threatening anyone who tried to get close to him.

For an elf, Jasille could look frightening. He was tall and slender like most elves, but there was a way that he carried himself that could clear rooms. Besides, his training with the Ashanti Royal Army and the Royal Guard had added muscle and power to his presence. As such, he had little more trouble as he went to the kitchen.

It was easy finding the cellar door, and he pulled it open before racing down the steps, not about to let the woman who had helped him so much be hurt again.
 
Sylil pushed her into the back of the cellar, behind the racks of wines and barrels of ales. She knew that there was little she could do. Once, years ago, she fought back and ended up with a broken arm and cracked ribs. That was when she had met Henley. It was Sylil that took her there, claiming she had fallen down the cellar stairs. After all, she was the cheapest labor he could find, almost a slave to him.

A fist drove into her side and she buckled onto the floor. It wasn't as hard as he could have hit her, but she still stayed on the floor. It was easier to protect herself this way and let him take out his frustrations. He hadn't grabbed the whip, so if she could protect her face and midsection, it should be over soon enough. "Get up." he said and she looked up in shock and hesitated. He'd never asked her to get up. She always assumed that he never wanted to truly hurt her, so he allowed her the protection necessary.

"I can't keep you here." he said and grabbed her hair, pulling her upward.
 
Before Sylil could do anything more to Thea, Jasille was behind him, the blade of his sword pressed against the human's soft flesh. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you, human?" he growled, pressing the blade in enough to draw blood. "You will not lay a hand on her ever again if you wish to live," he growled into his ear. "And you will act as if nothing happened here today. You never saw my companion and I." With that, Jasille pushed Sylil to the wall, and turned to Thea.

"Let's go," he said softly. "I will protec you."
 
There was no reason to believe Jasille, other than the fact that she had been compelled to help him since she'd met him and his king. But she looked back at Sylil and he gave her a look that was an obvious threat that she should never come back. She fought the urge to smile. She had no idea what she would do or where she would go, but for the moment...she was going to get away from him. She turned to Jasille and smiled. Her cheek was slightly swollen and red, but it did not lessen her smile. She ran behind one rack of wine and scrambled onto a makeshift bed made with two blankets on a pallet. She pulled the blankets back and tore at a loose board on the pallet, grabbing a small box. As she stood to leave, she looked one last time at the bed that had been her place for years and then continued on up the stairs to follow Jasille closely. She had no reason to look back. In the kitchen, she slipped in front of Jasille and motioned for him to follow her. She led them out the kitchen and into an alley. "Henley's is only a few minutes from here. Come on." she said and smiled again, "Thank you. I-I-don't know how to thank you."
 
"It is fine," Jasille said in answer. "No one deserved treatment like that. Least of all a woman as kind as you." He sheathed his sword and ran his fingers through his hair, ignoring the blood coating his hands. He could only hope that Dimaethor was faring better than he.

Meanwhile, the sick king was leaning heavily upon Henley as they walked through the snow to his house. He was almost as tall as he, and it was difficult for him to keep upright. "Mmm...I'm c-cold...y-you're not Jasille...where's...knight...?"
 
"He will be along, I am the healer he sought out to help you. Only you both were discovered and he tasked me with your continued safety." He tried to sound as sincere and genuine, but the look in the boy's eyes told him that he did not fully trust him. And he should not, Henley understood the tensions between elven kind and humans. Neither side was innocent in this feud and neither side was to blame. They both played their parts, only Henley didn't care what parts who had played. He owed Thea a great deal, she had saved him, more than once and he intended to do right by her no matter what she asked of him. Luckily for all involved, the young man could not struggle much and realized this. He went along with Henley as best as he could and Henley managed to get him into his home.

Thea moved quickly, for a human it was remarkable to say the least. She stopped at the side of the inn, near where the ladder would have let Henley down. She rummaged through the pile of hay and bales next to it and pulled out a bow and quiver, "I knew he wouldn't be able to get it." She suddenly pulled the ill fitting dress over her head and revealed she was fully dressed in form fitting light leather underneath. Shrouded in black, showing a more feminine, slight form than could have been discerned, Thea didn't look quite like the innocent, little girl she had been moments before. "Let's go!"
 
When Domaethor was taken to the human's home, he was weak from the cold, even though it had only been a five minute walk from the tavern to the house. Shivering, he looked up at the human, his silken clothes providing next to no protection from the cold. Indeed, they were much too nice to be just any commoner's clothes, but the dust of the road masked some of the grandeur. A trained eye, however, might be able to see past the grime.

Wrapping his arms around himself, he shivered, goosebumps rising on his skin. "C-crown...Castle..." he stuttered, losing lucidity for a moment. "Knight..."


Jasille watched silently as the girl retrieved a bow and a quiver, and then disrobed. He had widened his eyes as he saw this, wondering what she was doing, but then the leather armor beneath was revealed. "Right," he said in answer, following after her quickly.
 
The pair quickly made it to Henley's home and Thea hesitated at the door. She finally made the decision to knock and did so quietly. Henley answered the door and held it open so they could enter. His home, if you could call it that, looked more like a workshop than anything. There was no abundance of seating, nor homey comforts at all. The cozy fires burning were all potions and experiments. Ancient scrolls and tomes laid around. Anatomical drawings took the place of artwork on the walls. This man Henley never stopped his work, he constantly surrounded himself with it.

"He's been asking for you, at least I think so. His knight?"
 
Jasille looked around the house warily, not certain he wanted to have the man who lived in this house watch over his king. Taking in the disarray and lack of a homey feel, he blinked and looked at Henley as he spoke. "Yes," he said in response. "Did he say anything else? Where is he?"

Jasille soon found Dimaethor, who was barely lucid as he saw the knight. "Jasille...w-where's Mama...?"

He sighed, brushing back his hair before whispering in his ear, "Please, Your Majesty...you must be silent...the healer doesn't know. Just sleep..." Dimaethor nodded, but before he closed his eyes, he tilted his head up and kissed Jasille. As the boy faded into unconsciousness, he was smirking and said, "Love you..."

Jasille, now frowning, though a pink color appeared upon his pale cheeks, turned to face Henley and Thea. "He's delirious," he said as explanation, though he wasn't sure of it himself. "Is there anything we can give him to help him sleep?"
 
"Sir, knight... if you will follow me with him." Henley said as he motioned for the pair to follow him. He did not wish to break up the two, unsure of the breadth of their relationship, he did not judge. "Thea, the cabinet, for yourself and our young, sick friend. The red one for you, brown for him." He said, motioning her away and then continued on past machines spitting steam, vials of liquid bubbling over small fires and strange contraptions with liquids dripping out into vials. Thea went into another part of the room, away from the trio of men. Henley opened a heavy wooden door and stepped aside for Jasille to enter with the boy.

The room was all that the rest of the place was not. It was dark paneled wood, rich burgundy rugs and a large roaring fire in the corner fireplace. Henley motioned to the bed, draped in curtains of silk and blankets on top of plush fabrics. "Lay the boy down. He will be fine, I have every reason to believe that." he assured Jasille and Thea came in just behind them. She handed Henley the vial with a thick, brown liquid and flashed a smile at him.

"And did you take the red?" He inquired of her, with a brow cocked in question.
"I don't need to." She answered. Henley took her chin in his hands and tilted her face to see her face. The red, swollen skin would bruise, but the hit was nothing serious. "Where else?" He asked.
The boy moaned from the bed and she shot him a pleading look. "Him first... please." she begged and he nodded, returning to the elven king. Bending down, he pout the vial to the lips of the elf and poured a small amount in. Moments later the boy stopped moving and moaning. He fell very still and looked to be quietly sleeping. "He will rest. His fever will break...I've no doubt." He looked over at Jasille, "Now, I deserve some honesty here, "then he looked on Thea, "From both of you."
 
Jasille looked away from Henley as the human demanded the truth. After a second of awkward silence, he said, "He and I are not who we say we are. He is King Dimaethor of Ashanti, son of Kyreah, and Lord of the Great Lyna Wall. I am His Majesty's personal bodyguard. I apologize for lying, but circumstances have changed in Ashanti, and I fear for my king's safety..." He looked down at his king, frowning some.

"As for the kiss...His Majesty believed us to be lovers after his parents' death. And I am only his knight...who am I to refuse my king?" Knowing that it was a weak excuse, he sighed, looking away from the two humans. He understood that humans weren't as accepting of two men or two women together as elves were, and was fully prepared to take his king and leave should the need arrive.
 
Henley sighed, there was more to their story, he was sure of that. However, he'd asked for honesty and he believed he'd gotten that. As far as the two male elves being lovers, there were many reasons why henly never took a wife, his unsorted feelings for men and women being one of them.

"I said there would be no judgement, I meant it, sir." He nodded his head for a moment at him, then looked to Thea. "Now you, dear. And don't lie, I know you too well."

" It wasn't bad. I promise, he saved me from a bad one." She nodded toward Jasille. "Only, he let me go, Henley... I'm not his anymore." She beamed at him and he understood now her mood. Sylil had finally had enough and released her. This was what she'd hoped for as long as he had known her. "No more beatings, no more swatting men's hands away from me, no more sneaking around with my bow. I'm free!"

Henley tried not to frown. A poor woman with a pretty face and alluring body was not likely to ever be free. Nor was she likely to never experience those things again, she would and worse...

"And what will you do with your freedom, love?" Henley asked as kindly as he could. Had she even thought of a plan?
 
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Jasille smiled softly as Thea told Henley what he had done. He looked down at Dimaethor, and gingerly sat at the edge of the bed, brushing his king's hair back. After a second, he reached into his bag and took out the crown, which was only missing one of the emeralds adorning it. He took his knife out, and wedged its blade beneath an emerald, wiggling it a bit. Eventually, it popped out, and Jasille held his hand out to Henley.

"Take it," he said. "You've helped us immeasurably, healer. It's the least we can do. And...it's not as if we have much more use for a crown. It...it was always too big for him anyways...hurt his shoulders and neck..."
 
Henley looked at it and shook his head. He nodded toward the girl, "She already paid my fee, and she paid the rest to her former employer for the two of you to have your time with her, your room and board. You owe me nothing. I will see your king through." Henley almost sounded offended for the jewel to have been thrown at him. "The troubles you face are far and beyond what the rest of that crown will likely provide to you. Keep what you can."

Thea smiled at Henley, she knew he was indebted to her beyond many things. He had taken the money to help them, but only because she would not allow it otherwise. "Where will you go when your king is well again? Can he regain his place?" Thea asked, avoiding Henley's question regarding her freedom and future.
 
Jasille shook his head. "I don't know...and...news may not have reached here yet, but there has been a revolution in Ashanti...there was an attempt upon His Majesty's life, but we escaped. His Majesty's General Kina knows we're alive...I have reason to believe that he's following us...after he is better, I...I am not sure of what we will do. I expect that we will keep running until Proste. Hopefully, they will grant us asylum, and if Kina finds us, we will have protection..."

It was a stretch, Jasille knew. But it was the only thing he had. He sighed, frowning a bit. He knew Dimaethor wouldn't be happy going to Proste. His king had been raised to dislike Proste, ever since he was a boy. Proste, while having one of the strongest militaries, was comprised of wild elf tribes, and the nobles of Ashanti held the belief that wild elves were lower than low. Still, if they would grant the fugitive king asylum, then Jasille would take him there.
 
"Proste? Do you have any idea how far that is? Sir Knight, and I mean no disrespect, but you will have to take better care of your liege if you deem to travel that far away. Is there no human king that sympathizes with your kind?" Henley seemed sincerely concerned about Jasille attempting to travel with his king any more than he had. He didn't mean to offend or make it seem as if he were inept, he also did not know the conditions that Jasille had to endure to achieve Dimaethor's safety. All he knew was the boy traveled too far in too ill of a condition and Jasille had led the charge on that.

"He doesn't have to take care of him alone. I will go with them. I have nothing left here, nowhere to go and you yourself asked if I knew what I wanted to do with my freedom. I do. I want to do something that matters." Thea's voice was strong and confident. As if her mind made up before the conversation had occurred.

Henley crossed the room to her and held her hands. "Thea, you are a strong girl, that I have no doubt. You do not know the world that exists outside that bar. You do not yet understand that you are built for cruelty. I hate it, but it is what the world is for someone like you." Henley looked to Jasille and narrowed his eyes at him. "Tell her! You know as well as I do. As awful as Sylil is, he's nothing compared to monsters she'd meet on the road with you."
 
Jasille hated being put on the spot like that. Looking down as Henley told him to explain to Thea the dangers of the world, he let out a sigh before stating, "My lady...the world is no place for women who cannot handle themselves...but if your mind is made up, I will not stop you."

He looked down at his prince before adding, "Another pair of capable hands would also be a lovely help." He gave a small smile, pulling the blankets farther over his king's body. Dimaethor had become attached to Thea, even if it was because he mistook her for his mother when he was delirious.

Feeling his forehead, he sighed, "I think his fever is going down..." He looked back up at Henley and Thea, his grey eyes serious and stern. "My lady, if it is your choice, then I am not the one to tell you you're business..."
 
Henley gave Jasille a look of complete and utter pain. He was concerned for all he had warned her against, but he was also not sure how to face a life without Thea. He had never fully repaid her for all she'd done, nor did he think she realized how much he felt he owed her. But this elf's words sealed the fate he did not want to face. He knew he was wrong, all this time, fearing she would eventually leave Sylil and by extension, leave him. It was his worst trait, selfishness. He'd rather her beaten and hurt so that she would stay close, than for her to have a chance at freedom and leave. He turned and left the room. The extreme quietness of how he closed the door behind him was eerie.

"I can handle myself, Sir. I'm no elf, but I can shoot a bow as well as one. I know some of the healing arts, Henley has showed me." She shrugged her shoulders, "I can cook." she said finally with a smile. She wasn't sure why she felt the need to make herself seem useful to him, he had already agreed to let her come with them.
 
Jasille watched sadly as Henley left the room, hoping that the healer wouldn't refuse to help them anymore. Sighing, he raked his fingers through his hair before looking to Thea while she spoke. "Those are all skills that would help us greatly, my lady. I am sure that when His Majesty awakes, he will be delighted to have you."

He smiled before adding, "I feel that I should apologize to Henley...if you would excuse me, my lady." He stood before heading to the door. Exiting the room, he began to search for the healer, hoping that he hadn't left the house.
 
Henley walked out the room and over to one of the various vials of liquid. He corked a bottle and then put another in its place to catch slow drips that leaked out the spigot. He always turned to his work when life became stressful. This house was once filled with a small lab and the rest of the house was homey and warm. It was filled with love and companionship, but that had long since gone. The lab took over the house and nothing was left of the home. Then Thea had come. Sylil had brought her, in a drunken rage he had seriously hurt her. Henley wasn't sure she would live through it, but she had survived. It was not the last time it happened, but it had been the worst occurrence by far. It was a surprise how she infiltrated his life, wormed her way in and helped fix him more than he ever had fixed her. And now, she was leaving. He had no romantic feelings for her, but he loved her all the same.
 
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