Tempered by the Will

14 - Watching

 Constantine drummed his fingers over the balcony railing as he watched Vica's pitiful struggling down on the ground floor. His eyes were keen enough to see the way her slender fingers dug into her knees through her pants. She'd taken her cloak off a while ago, but now he suspected that even with the late autumn chill, she was burning up with the sheer effort of trying to accomplish whatever it was that she was supposed to do.

He didn't have the Sight the way mages did; he couldn't see auras and signatures. But he could feel their presences, and Vica's - hers didn't even bear explanation. Her power was as potent and clumsy as ever, far worse than it had been when they first met. If anything, instead of improving, she'd become only more unwieldy and graceless with her magic ever since that night on the hill.

It was like breaking the dam on a river, and now she was just a constant cascade. If not for his aura suppressing her presence in public, she would have been found out and caught in a flash. She had no idea what danger she was in, none at all. She thought all she had to worry about was fighting off whoever attacked her - what did she know of the Order's machinations? They tempted just as often as they scratched, held out bobbing lures that pulled even at his greed when he was normally one to crave so little.

And there was Bren, teaching her trivial tricks as if her magic was going to save her when it came down to it. He didn't trust Bren. Didn't then and certainly didn't now, not with his sinister ways. But one thing Constantine didn't understand was why the half-elf was so invested. Was it because, perhaps, he wanted to use her to gain status? As a hybrid, he was even lower than a full elf in these parts. Natural elves could at least take on jobs as poorly paid servants, but an elf halfling? Any mage worth his salt in the Sanctum would be able to identify the old blood running through his veins even if he tried to hide it.

And hybrids were an insult to the people, to humans. That was the way they saw it. The audacity of its elf parent to procreate with a human, how dare they -

Things like that. So maybe Bren was going to try to use Vica, fashion her into something that could take control of a sizable portion of the court and become her steward, or whatever position he could hold at her side.

She had to know. She had to know that he had ulterior motives. He was getting nothing out of helping her right now, so obviously he was looking forward to some future gains, something that he wanted from her, something no one else could provide.

Why didn't that enrage her? Why didn't it drive her insane that there was someone right next to her that wanted to use her, exploit her, all while pretending it was for her own good? Why didn't she turn around and stab him in the gut for daring to leech from her, for daring to profit more than she would?

He snorted.

Probably because she was used to it by now. He'd played his part in that. Regretted it handily, but regret didn't fix anything, especially now that she'd finally realized she was too good for him. f*****g shame. If only he'd been a dashing, blond-eyed princeling, or pretty like duke like Felix Aventine. She seemed to be making eyes at him whenever she thought no one was looking.

Or maybe that was just his imagination. Now that she'd made it clear that he had exhausted all of her patience, he spent his hours wondering if she was going to go find someone else to warm her bed now. On the road, he had been her only option, and she was right: she had been his captive. He'd taken advantage of that. Shamelessly. But now, she had options.

And she would have infinitely more once she went public. He knew it was coming. There was no way Vica would be content to remain hidden and secret until she was "ready." She was already raring to go, eager to find a foothold in this society she had stepped into with naive dreams of dismantling it from the inside. For someone with so much heart, she didn't have much brains to go with it.

No, that wasn't it. She was just too confident. He knew a thing or two about being cocky, but she was on a level that far exceeded his own. It was neither malicious nor arrogant, but it was cockiness nonetheless. If she really thought that determination and a heart of gold were all she needed to bring down a system woven into this society for hundreds of years...

It wasn't just the Order that she would need to fight against. The humans with no magic, the civilians, the 'ungifted' - they would fight her, too. Worse, they would hate her, and he suspected that would break her more than any form of physical violence could.

She wanted to be a hero so badly, but some people didn't know they needed to be saved. What was she going to do about that?

He continued to watch her as she sat motionless down below on the sloping grass. Bren, that shifty son of a b***h, was smiling faintly at her as she sweated and strained over whatever task he'd instructed her to complete to no avail. And Vica...

She leaped to her feet suddenly, and although he was too far away to hear whatever she was saying, he could see her jabbing her finger at the ground in anger. The halfling said something back, probably trying to calm her, but then she abruptly whipped around to stare  at Constantine.

Even from here, he could read red-hot anger in her distant figure. She pointed at him next, and he heard faint traces of her voice carrying over to him on the breeze as she no doubt cursed him and all his ancestors. He didn't think he'd done anything in particular to trigger this latest outburst, but there was no telling with her. He'd only intended to watch; maybe she didn't want him doing that either.

Too bad. He could regret everything he'd done to her while still carrying the burden of looking out for her. There was no one else he could trust to do it, and like hell was he leaving her to sit alone with Bren for hours. Not without Constantine's watchful eyes drilling into him, at least.

Sure, they were too far away for him to intervene in case the halfling whipped out a surprise dagger and poked a few holes in Vica with it, but he was reasonably confident that she could crush him if he really attacked her in such fashion. No, he was more concerned about the insidious things he might say to her as soon as he thought they were alone.

He wished he could get closer to make sure Bren was refraining from that, but Vica was already furious that he was spectating them from the third floor balcony. He doubted he could get any closer without her telling him to f**k off into the sun, so he would have to content himself with trying to read the hybrid's lips from here.

He was still leaning forward over the railing, and he briefly raised one hand in a half-wave at Vica. But far from mollifying her, it seemed to make her only angrier. She threw him a rude gesture - oh, two of them - before flopping down on the ground.

...He shouldn't, he told himself. She'd be able to feel him prodding her magic, her essence. He shouldn't...

But he did. He reached out with his power, tentatively tasting her so that he could try to read the tumult of emotions that roiled at its surface. Right, there was the fury. He'd expected as much. But wait - underneath it, something else. Something different from the aggression, something defensive.

Afraid?

She turned around and shouted something at him once more just then, and he quickly withdrew. He couldn't hear what she was saying, but it was obvious that she had sensed him probing her, as he'd already known she would.

...Why was she afraid? More specifically, why was the fact that he was watching her making her afraid? Did she think that he was going to turn on her if he found a weakness, that she needed to hide her inexperience and vulnerability from him? Did she think that he was going to hurt her somehow?

It hadn't been so long since their relationship had been...tumultuous, but surely she knew he was firmly on her side. The things he had done to her before, he regretted them. Regretted them all. He'd never put his hands on her again unless she invited it, or barring that, he'd take them off of her if she told him to. That - was over. Even if she couldn't forgive and forget it all, surely she could at least understand and believe that it wouldn't happen again...?

He grimaced. Time. It would take time to slide back into her good graces, and he could scarcely rush it.

So he'd wait. He would wait and watch, keep his distance as far as he was able.

And hopefully, she would call him back to her side in time - before the real danger found her.