Sableheim Assassin

A Dance in the Shadows (rough draft v1)

Just as the night air had grown thick with a tension he could not place, but knew to take as a warning he had learned to heed, it was broken by the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching Jacob's chamber. The trained senses he had honed as a warrior prince sprang to life. He quickly shifted the bedding to look like he was under a pile of soft silk and hide behind a curtain the hung along the wall at would be obscured by the opening door, he shifted his eyes toward the elegant gilded mirror that gave him a partial view of the room's entrance and his hiding spot, using it to gauge if he had succeeded in his concealment he watched and waited. He heard to thumps outside the door he was hoping wasn't his guards losing a battle before it could start.

The door creaked open. A shadowy figure dressed in the dark fabrics of Sableheim slipped inside, clearly believing they had entered undetected. As the assassin’s eyes bounced around the room looking for threats and the new princess Jacob could tell his assailants eyes were masked by an air of arrogance—arrogance that Jacob intended to exploit.

Taking a few stealthy steps, the intruder reached the center of the room. And then, without a moment's hesitation, Jacob sprung from his hiding spot behind a flowing curtain. His braided hair, a hidden arsenal unto itself, whipped around as he moved with lightning speed, pulling two daggers form his braids, he had been taught by the Viryana, the female warrior sect that had given him permission to use their customs to allow him to keep the warrior part of his history alive in his new life, to incorporate every weapons in the braids into his combat style.

"Pathetic. To think a warrior prince would become such a pitiful bride," the assassin sneered, drawing a blade. Prepared to stab the pile of silk shaped like a body wrapped in comfort.

THUMP "What?! Where?!"

"Not pathetic, just underestimated," Jacob retorted. The flick of his wrist was almost casual as a hidden blade slipped from one of his hands, and with pinpoint accuracy, stabbed into the assailant's leg causing him to bend in just the right way for Jacob to gain body control of the assassin with a blade to his neck and another smaller blade pulled from the braids held against the skin right above his kidneys. "You've mistaken my transformation for weakness. Big mistake. Would you like me to show you what my Eldralorian friends have taught me a tiny push dagger can do to a mans organs? You already have one new hole would you like me to add a few more?"

The assassin wisely made no move or tried to speak.

Moments later, Eldralorian guards burst into the room, their eyes widening at the scene before them. With a nod from Jacob, they apprehended the would-be assassin and carted him away, giving the customary salute and bow a Viryana captain would receive.

"I'm going to need to ask one of the tutors or the Viryana how you get this much blood out of silk... I've never had this problem before, I doubt Erik would be ok with this kind of blood on his bride." 'That is what I am now, his bride and prize. The Viryana may have seen fit to pity me and let me keep my warrior pride as intact as possible, but I was never meant to have to ever use those skills. I can't even think of myself as being my own, my first thought was how Erik would feel about HIS bride, I've even started to Think about my self as HIS. '

Then, as if on cue, the door burst open once again, and in strode Prince Erik, his eyes wide with concern. His gaze quickly swept the room—the incapacitated guards lying at the entrance, the grimacing assassin bound and bleeding on the floor. And there, at the center of it all, was Jacob. Erik felt a catch in his breath as his eyes settled on his fiancé, dressed in the exquisite attire of the Viryana, the female warrior sect of Eldralore.

"Erik," Jacob greeted softly, his eyes locking with the prince's as he sheathed a hidden blade back into its concealed compartment within his intricate braids.

"My gods." Erik whispered, his steps hurried as he closed the distance between them. His eyes traveled, looking for the cause of the bleeding and how his fiance was still standing, as it dawned on him his eyes wandered from the elaborate war braids adorned with 'jewelry,' down to the elegant garments and back up to Jacob's face."Your unharmed." he said in relieved asttonishment.

"Thanks to Viryana teachings and a few tricks from my past life, yes," Jacob replied, his voice tinged with a newfound confidence.

For the first time, Erik saw not just a diplomatic partner but someone who could genuinely be his companion, his equal. He could tell that Erik cared for him, not as a means to and end but actually cared and then when his eyes roamed Jacob's body he could tell Erik apprciated his new look more than a little, even in the mist of an emergency. The tension in the room seemed to dissolve, replaced by a newfound intimacy. Hesitant, yet moved, Erik reached out to gently touch Jacob's face, his fingers lightly grazing his cheek. In that simple touch lay the promise of a future—of love, and of a partnership not merely of political expedience.

"I was terrified I would lose you," Erik finally admitted

"You won't," Jacob assured him, their eyes locked in a gaze that spoke louder, "I'm right here, and I plan to stay."

Their eyes met, and in that quiet, laden moment, something shifted. Unable to resist, Jacob leaned in and placed a tender kiss on Erik's cheek. The gesture was simple but more real than either had dared to hope would come out of a treaty arranged marriage.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an assassin to interrogate," Erik said softly, breaking the moment but not the connection.

Jacob nodded, stepping back reluctantly as Erik exited the room. The door closed behind him, but the newfound intimacy, the spark of real affection, remained, filling the room with a warmth.

Alone once more, Jacob sighed. It was time for a bath, time to change into fresh clothes, but as he walked away, he realized something had changed irrevocably. For the first time, he found himself genuinely looking forward to a future with Erik—a future that, until tonight, had been a sword of damocles.

As he stepped into the warm, scented water of the bath, Jacob allowed himself a small smile.

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