"No. You cannot ask this of me. It isn't right — she deserves to know."
Within the deepest chambers of the Lion's Den did they hold council for what would be the last time. In the weeks and months it took to nurse her back to health and for her to regain her strength, the High King of Midvinter had kept her survival a necessary secret, even from members of his close family. Her recovery was nothing short of miraculous, she'd been so badly battered and broken by the time he found and whisked her away to safety. Though he was a healer of significant skill and his knowledge in the field of medicine was vast, Thurion had doubted she'd ever pull through. It had seemed bleak the first week or so, but when he witnessed her wiggle her toes for the first times he knew there was hope.
Hope. To someone who had laid down his lightsaber many decades past, fought every horror imaginable, and suffered every wound one could inflict another, Thurion saw her as the embodiment of hope; that bright flame igniting courage in the coward, boldness in the meek, and passion in the apathetic. To him, she was the perfect Jedi.
But her time in convalescence seemed to have changed her. The betrayal she'd faced on Coruscant had struck too deep for any medicine to heal, driving her to turn from the path she'd trod thus far. Whilst Thurion did not agree with her argument, he still believed in her wholeheartedly and would support her every decision. It was what she then asked of him that gave him pause.
She asked him to lie. Him. That left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Thurion Heavenshield was no liar. He was a man of deeply-rooted honour seldom seen in this day and age, still clinging to forgotten chivalric values. He did not lie, he did not cheat, he did not steal. He did not succumb to mankind's baser instincts, but chose to rise above them, always. To lie was to go against his very nature.
He turned his back on her, wishing his wife was there to counsel him. He lifted his gaze towards the banner hung over the door frame, and read the words. Family, Duty, Honour. His house motto was more than words; they were a vow. She was family, and family always comes first — before duties and personal honour. Thurion sighed and his shoulders slumped.
"Very well," he finally relented, though it pained him greatly knowing what it would entail. "I'll do what you ask; I will lie, for you. I will take your secret to my grave. You have my solemn vow." Thurion turned around and walked up to her, placing his hand beneath her chin.
"Askani will go." He tilted her head up to meet his sad gaze, resting his other hand upon his heart. "Romi Jade remains," he whispered before placing a most delicate kiss upon her forehead, then embraced one of his oldest and last remaining friends, knowing it might be the last chance to do so.
Within the deepest chambers of the Lion's Den did they hold council for what would be the last time. In the weeks and months it took to nurse her back to health and for her to regain her strength, the High King of Midvinter had kept her survival a necessary secret, even from members of his close family. Her recovery was nothing short of miraculous, she'd been so badly battered and broken by the time he found and whisked her away to safety. Though he was a healer of significant skill and his knowledge in the field of medicine was vast, Thurion had doubted she'd ever pull through. It had seemed bleak the first week or so, but when he witnessed her wiggle her toes for the first times he knew there was hope.
Hope. To someone who had laid down his lightsaber many decades past, fought every horror imaginable, and suffered every wound one could inflict another, Thurion saw her as the embodiment of hope; that bright flame igniting courage in the coward, boldness in the meek, and passion in the apathetic. To him, she was the perfect Jedi.
But her time in convalescence seemed to have changed her. The betrayal she'd faced on Coruscant had struck too deep for any medicine to heal, driving her to turn from the path she'd trod thus far. Whilst Thurion did not agree with her argument, he still believed in her wholeheartedly and would support her every decision. It was what she then asked of him that gave him pause.
She asked him to lie. Him. That left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Thurion Heavenshield was no liar. He was a man of deeply-rooted honour seldom seen in this day and age, still clinging to forgotten chivalric values. He did not lie, he did not cheat, he did not steal. He did not succumb to mankind's baser instincts, but chose to rise above them, always. To lie was to go against his very nature.
He turned his back on her, wishing his wife was there to counsel him. He lifted his gaze towards the banner hung over the door frame, and read the words. Family, Duty, Honour. His house motto was more than words; they were a vow. She was family, and family always comes first — before duties and personal honour. Thurion sighed and his shoulders slumped.
"Very well," he finally relented, though it pained him greatly knowing what it would entail. "I'll do what you ask; I will lie, for you. I will take your secret to my grave. You have my solemn vow." Thurion turned around and walked up to her, placing his hand beneath her chin.
"Askani will go." He tilted her head up to meet his sad gaze, resting his other hand upon his heart. "Romi Jade remains," he whispered before placing a most delicate kiss upon her forehead, then embraced one of his oldest and last remaining friends, knowing it might be the last chance to do so.
