To Pine for Pink Opals

Chapter 5: The Dryad

Heldon opened his eyes to a rough, log cabin roof and the smell of clay, sage, and cloves burning in the air. Was Erik cooking again?

Pink eyes.

“Tival!" He shot up in the cot, panic thrashing through his chest. The room spun and his body swayed dizzily.

“Hey, hey, I'm here. You're ok. You're safe." Strong hands steadied his shoulders and held his back. A ripple of calm soothed his body from the touch. Heldon swore Tival's warm, large hands were the only things holding him up.

“Are you ok?" Heldon asked, coughing. His throat burned like desert sand.

“What? Yeah. Here, drink this." Tival came into focus with a wooden cup and the breath caught in his chest like candles.

His gold blond hair wildly curled everywhere as he'd just run through a storm. And his eyes, gold swirled green, looked at him like he was the only thing in the world. How could someone who used him, hold him like this?

Heldon's defenses melted like hot wax down to his groin.

“You saved me, why?" Heldon whispered, trying to keep his voice and dignity from wavering.

A flash of surprise streaked across Tival's face before softening into a small smile.

“I couldn't let my favorite negotiator die." Tival's answer made the blood rush to his cheeks as a ruddy blush. Heldon broke eye contact awkwardly and noticed that his ankle was securely wrapped in long leaves.

“What's in the cup?" A spike of pain from the back of his skull made Heldon wince. He felt the knot on the back, and it was covered in some sort of clay.

“Medicine. A healer I trust named Fern made it for you." Tival answered softly and grabbed Heldon's wrist, bringing it back from behind his head. Electricity shocked up his arm and it wasn't fair the way he turned him on and confused him at the same time.

Heldon looked past Tival and saw an old woman with green hair twisted up in a bun with wildflowers. Vines and leaves of all shades of greens, yellows, and oranges draped off her.

Wait. She wasn't just wearing the flowers and the plants; they grew off her! If Heldon didn't know better, this old woman was a fabled dryad or a forest guardian.

But they had been wiped out centuries ago.

“What's a dryad doing here? Where are we?" Heldon asked, jolting back. Tival's broad frame made him feel safe, but he didn't trust doctors, barbers, or especially healers. He didn't like being examined… and what was in this cup?!

Tival responded, but Heldon couldn't understand any of it over the static in his head.

“I need to get back. I have to go." Heldon's pulse drummed in his neck, and the room constricted around him. He still had to finish the negotiations. Ryce! His saber!

He couldn't get enough air. He had to get out.

“Hey, negotiator, look at me. I won't make you stay, but you can trust her because I'm half dryad." Tival squeezed Heldon's shoulders. Heldon locked eyes with Tival again and he centered him.

There were male dryads? Heldon had learned from countless legends that dryads were all female.

“I still don't like doctors." Heldon's thoughts buzzed like bees in his head. He tried to process what Tival told him. He did make the plants move in the forest. He also smelled like a jungle and was as bewitching as one too. It made sense…

“I'm asking a lot, but if you drink this you'll heal up faster and we'll make it to Opalgate in plenty of time." Tival's voice soothed out the frayed static of his mind.

Tival said 'we'. He'd go back with him. He'd be damned if Tival carried him again, like some burden.

“Ok," Heldon conceded. It stunk like mold and cloves. But if this would make him better to get to Ryce and finish his proposal… bottoms up.

Heldon grimaced as he forced down the medicine. The grating pain in his neck alleviated immediately. The spike of pain through his skull softened and his ankle was no longer the size of a grapefruit.

This medicine had to be magical; it was an enchanted forest after all.

“Feel better?"

Heldon nodded, he felt better physically, but his soul hurt. Heldon searched the room for the old woman, but she was already gone.

“Fern's really shy around humans, don't take it personally. Let's get going." Tival reached over to the wall and handed him his saber.

Heldon's throat swelled. Tival didn't have to do any of this. He saved him, got him healed, gave back his saber, and now was taking him back to Opalgate.

“Thank you, Tival." Heldon grabbed the hilt of his saber, noticing its clean blade. No one had ever made his stomach dance with stars as Tival did. But on the other hand, he was a vampire, and he knew next to nothing about him.

“Don't thank me. It's my fault you got hurt in the first place." Tival murmured lowly and stood up, turning away to grab his spear. Heldon didn't need to see his chiseled face to know he felt guilty.

Even if what he said was true, which Heldon wasn't sure about anymore, he didn't want him to sulk about it.

“I'll give my gratitude to whoever I want to, even if they're a stubborn envoy who won't accept it." Heldon stood up and sheathed his saber, testing his ankle. It wasn't even sore.

Tival laughed and it took a weight off Heldon's shoulders.

Together they left the small cabin, and like before, the undergrowth and forest parted for them with each step Tival took. Tival was too special for being a simple envoy in a vampire coven. He had so much more to give than just that.

The walk to Opalgate was unexpectedly pleasant, and Heldon didn't grip his saber this time. He found himself looking forward to their walk back through the forest to Kalent. They reached Opalgate manor with plenty of time for Heldon to wash up before he had to meet with the trinity again.

Though the walk through Opalgate got them some stares, Tival's stiff posture and thinned lips put Heldon on edge, scared that Tival was upset.

“They fixed up your room as best they could. An attendant will come to get you to meet with the trinity. Good luck, negotiator. Have a safe trip home." Tival said sternly at Heldon's door. Would Tival not be present at his second meeting? Would they not walk together out of the forest? Was he seriously saying goodbye?

What did he do wrong?

“Uh, what?" Heldon stammered, tongue-tied. This couldn't be their last time together. His mind flashed to his pink eyes. He wanted to get some things straightened out. He had so many questions. Heldon wanted everything out of him.

“Farewell, negotiator." Tival bowed slightly and strode down the hall. Heldon just gaped at his muscular form getting farther and farther away.

Tival just walked out of his life.

Humiliation rose ugly and red across his face. He wouldn't call out to him and further embarrass himself. Clearly, Tival just saved him out of duty, guilt, or…

Pity.

Heldon's hand quivered as he opened the door to his room and shut it behind him. He ran to the window for fresh air, breathing in shaky puffs.

He couldn't believe he fell for the same trap twice. He sat for a while, calming his breathing until he finally resolved to move on.

Other than his bed, and his missing earrings, everything looked alright. He went to the washing basin and splashed water all over his face.

His reflection looked ghastly. Dark purple bruises ringed around his neck and his hair stuck out of his tangled braid. He shucked his braid and combed through it to look somewhat respectable. After he tied his braid again, he changed into a fresh, spare blue uniform.

A knock at the door startled Heldon, and for a desperate moment he hoped Tival was on the other side.

“Sir, the trinity has summoned you." A different attendant informed him, and Heldon nodded and left down the hall.

Even healed, there was no way he could go after Ryce in this condition. He'd have to tell Erik about Ryce when he got home. Together they could figure out a plan to get justice. It'd certainly distract him from the way Tival made his heart tie into a sour knot.

He arrived at the same black doors he entered yesterday. Only this time, he was alone. He didn't need anyone though. He gave his saber to the attendant and entered the chamber.

Lady Urah, Lord Pan, and Lady Iulya sat across the table, spines stiff.

The stagnant air chilled his bones. Why did it feel so cold this time?

“Negotiator Flay of Kalent, due to recent events, including the rather unfortunate attempt on your life, we decided to accept your proposal, but with a few changes." Lady Urah took command, unrolling a scroll. Both Lord Pan and Lady Iulya had faces of stone, completely unreadable.

He couldn't believe they would even consider it.

“I understand, what are the new terms?" Heldon nerves fired like sparks through his body. He couldn't appear eager, but if he had pulled this off…

He could face Erik!

“The new terms are as follows: we will accept your jewelry and the land, and in exchange, you will get half the silver and armor you requested." Lady Urah read like she was proclaiming a death sentence.

Half?

“Instead of the rest of the silver and armor, we order envoy Tival Acera with you back to Kalent to assist you in containing your…pest problem. These are the terms, and we will accept no others. Negotiator Flay, do you accept?" Lady Urah announced, squinting at him with violet eyes. Heldon's jaw dropped, mind going white with static.

They couldn't be serious.

Tival didn't like him. He left him like he was a stranger after treating him like a friend. Now the trinity wanted to give Tival to him like a sell-sword?

Heldon's chest flamed hot, he didn't know what was going on, but he could only answer one way.

“Yes, I accept the terms on behalf of Kalent." No sooner had Heldon said so, Lady Urah stamped the agreement in blood, followed by Lord Pan, and finally Lady Iulya. Her mouth crooked into a sinister smile. Her lightning yellow eyes cause the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end.

“Pleasure negotiating with you." If Lady Iulya's looks alone could devour a man, Heldon would be dinner. Whatever happened with Tival, Lady Iulya orchestrated it.

He pricked his thumb and stamped the scroll.