Reiltar is his charming self. Sarevok's status as a working member of the household is unceremoniously established. Jelena and Winski get emotional.
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Reiltar Anchev arrived for breakfast, excited. He nodded at the yawning Winski, and Jelena, and was annoyed to notice that Sarevok was nowhere to be seen. He expected punctuality when it came to dining schedules. It showed that the household was orderly run. He motioned Winski to him and talked in a low voice.
- "How did it go, Winski?"
- "Sarevok was wounded, but he'll recover. Jelena tended to the wound."
- "Oh. I mean, did you get the documents?"
- "Yes, we got the documents. Had to kill the guards, though, and mess the place up to make it look like a burglary gone wrong. Allonia's got the stuff."
- "Excellent! How did Sarevok do?"
- "He was very brave and useful, if a bit foolhardy. I still think he's young for a thing like that. It can be confusing to his psyche as well, to do that sort of thing when still a child."
- "He has made himself useful, as was expected. That is good. And the wound? Will it hinder him?"
- "Not for long. I suggest no arms training in a week, although he won't like that."
Reiltar nodded, anxious to get to the Throne and the loot. As Sarevok still hadn't showed up, he yelled into the doorway.
- "Sarevok! Unless you want to earn a good strapping you will be here within a minute. If I have to come to get you, you'll sleep on your stomach for weeks!"
Winski inhaled sharply and clenched his fists. Jelena's face twitched in repulsion and anger. She worked her expression into the customary meek one and faced her husband.
- "We thought to let him sleep late, Reiltar. He was up a better part of the night and was quite exhausted," she explained in a soft voice betraying no aggression.
- "That what the two of you thought, huh?" sneered Reiltar. "Well, I'm often exhausted too working for all of you, and do I linger in the bed after breakfast time? I don't think so. So go wake him and tell him to get his ass here as soon as bloody possible."
As Jelena went to wake the boy, Winski worked his voice as level and unemotional and possible.
- "Really, Reiltar. Don't overdo the praise. Might spoil the kid, give him the wrong idea. After all, he's only just put his life in a line to get those documents for you, and been wounded in the process. Not to mention being up well after children's bed time."
- "As it should be. I take risks, and so should my son. And Winski... I really don't care much for your sarcasm," he answered, shooting the magician a very nasty sideway glance.
- "That is not obligatory. However, this would be a very good time to care even a little for Sarevok. Might strengthen your father-son relationship mightily." Reiltar snorted, and Winski mentally slapped himself for the last part. Annoying Reiltar because of his own repulsion and frustration would only cost Sarevok, and make the man even less likely to treat his son better.
Sarevok arrived, his eyes puffy and movements fuzzy, yawning. He looked so small and puzzled with his arm bandaged. This is the same little laughing, dancing and death-dealing demon I witnessed last night, marveled Winski.
- "Morning, father," mumbled the boy.
- "Morning, son. Seems that you are late because of the mistaken idea of these two, so we'll let that slide. I heard you did well. Continue to do so, and I'll be satisfied," said Reiltar in his firm, authoritarian voice.
Does it really hurt that much to say thank you, or give explicit praise, thought Winski wearily. How ironic that a man should feel powerful, like a king of his own empire, by menacing a traumatized child and a gentle, mistreated woman slapped out of her wits. Perhaps Reiltar is right, though? Perhaps I AM getting soft to think so. No matter. Before there was only gray emptiness inside of me, the intellectual stimulation of being a magician, and working on theories and philosophies. Now I feel powerful emotions, and a purpose. In a sense I live more than ever before. If this is soft, then so be it.
- "Thank you, father," answered Sarevok solemnly to Reiltar's idea of praise. He started to nib on his breakfast, trying to keep his eyes open.
- "I guess you won't join the arms training today. Of course, you'll study with Winski instead," said Reiltar. "Just because you do some work now, you can't take time off and neglect your duties."
He gulped down his tea and left, leaving the others quietly waiting for the slam of the door.
- "Damn him, the b..." exclaimed Jelena as soon as Reiltar was gone, stopping mid-expletive and looking exhilarated and horrified at the same time.
- "Yes. The bastard. That's what he is, and that's what he should be called." Winski looked straight into the sky blue eyes, which seemed to have got a spark of a new fire into them.
- "I wouldn't dare..." answered Jelena in shame.
- "Neither would I, if he hit me like he does hit you, and could get away with it," answered Winski gravely.
- "You think we could put Sarevok back in bed?" asked Jelena, her eyes glinting mischievously.
- "Definitely. Reiltar won't be back until much later."
They took the dizzy child back in the bed and tucked him gently in, and as expected he fell back asleep in seconds. They remembered the moment they had shared at the same spot a night before, and smiled awkwardly at each other.
- "I heard you tell Reiltar off. Thank you," said Jelena.
- "No. It wasn't wise of me. He'll only take it out on Sarevok sooner or later." Winski shook his head.
- "I guess," sighed Jelena. "Um... about the last night. We... shared some closeness and... so that you wouldn't get the wrong idea. I'm a married woman, after all." She blushed.
- "Quite. Right," stammered Winski, feeling dreadfully out of his depth. "It is the boy. Yes. We both care for him and that made an error in judgement. An emotional moment."
They looked at each other, much too close for feeling comfortable. Suddenly Winski buried his face into Jelena's hair again, and held her feminine, round, soft shoulders. Jelena couldn't help hugging back. She craved the gentle and caring touch of a man's arms around him, her own arms around his back, someone holding her as if she was dear and precious. She enjoyed the moment, willing the idea of implications away.
The two retreated from each others, faces red. Winski hurried into his laboratory, and the puzzled Jelena started to clear the kitchen.
