Lyra's POV

My heart feels like it is going to explode as it tries uproariously to beat out of the bony cage that God put into place. Since the foot man left, I have gotten off of the floor and begun to pace the carpet, wringing my hands relentlessly as I try in vain to calm the fluttering bird inside of my chest.

Impatience has begun to claw at my insides like a wild animal, and I chew at my lip as I pause for the umpteenth time at the guarded window.

Though two of my Guardsmen stand in front of it, I can still see between their broad shoulders and out into the steadily lowering light of the day. The altering effects of captivity have already already taken effect: I feel as though I've spent a whole day locked up in my own home, but it couldn't have been more than a few hours in reality.

I am surprised that the King hasn't ordered bars to be put up in front of every window of my bed chambers, but then I recall the harsh words that he spoke. He doesn't care what happens to me, just as long as he has some sort of control over his precious little pawn. That is all I've ever been to him, isn't it? I am nothing but a pet to him, one that has too much value to be tossed away because of a bad temperament.

My stomach rolls for the second time tonight at the distraught feeling of being unwanted. I pause in my tracks to close my eyes, fighting the feeling away as it tries to overwhelm me.

Even my own mother hadn't come to my aid. All she has ever done is sit idly by and watch as the scenes play out, just like a shadow. I had even been foolish enough to believe that she had changed. I suppose the saying is true- a Vann-Hest cannot change the color of it's coat. My mother has never been a brave woman, so I do not understand why I imagined she would change that for me. Since I was younger, I had always had to come to my own rescue, and I am finally understanding that I will never be able to rely on others for strength. Lance taught me that, after all, and it is about time that I start listening to him.

I've known all my life that I was just a chess piece, haven't I? That I was just a bartering item for the King to use? I suppose actually hearing that your father does not care for you is different than telling it to yourself every night.

"Lyra, you should really try to calm down. Would you like me to have a servant bring some tea up for you?" Lance asks from behind me somewhere, voice soothing as any salve. He can feel the worry of my previous thoughts, reading further than body language could ever tell.

I can't even stomach the thought of eating or drinking a thing, other than perhaps that spirit that burned my throat with how potent it was. For some insane reason, I feel as though the amber colored liquor would calm my strumming nerves better than any tea ever could.

I push the thought aside and turn on my heel to make another round about the large room, feeling to concerned eyes of my men at my back and the heat of Sage's breath at my heels.

"No, no tea. I will be fine once I see that all of them are unharmed." I say, my voice sounding strange in my own ears. I force breath in and out of my lungs, afraid that I would otherwise forget that oxygen is an essential part of living. My throat is raw from yelling and alcohol. My mouth feels dry as I pause by the open window again.

I can't see anything of the gates from my bed chambers, so I do not understand why I continue to gaze out, as if waiting for Jed to haul himself through my window. Even if he were healthy enough to do so, he would surely be shot before he even got near. I am glad that the Guard is expecting him this time.

It seems to take an eternity before Darion opens the inner doors of my chambers, but I am disappointed to see the face of the same foot man from before.

Sage goes to greet him with raised hackles, beginning to sniff the air around him.

The man respectfully bows before entering, shooting a wary look at the dog. "My lady, I am to tell you that Prince Samson and company have arrived at the castle, but they are not well. They are being tended to and are required to rest before anyone is allowed to visit." The aging man seems apologetic, weathered face creased at the brow.

My body goes limp compared to the anxiety I had before, and I stop in my tracks at the news. "Oh," is all I can muster for a moment, before clearing my head with a firm shake. "Of course. Is anyone gravely ill? How many men arrived with Samson?"

"I believe that the prince was in the company of seven or eight men, my lady. Your Hana and two others from your Guard were with him, though one of them was unconscious. I cannot say how he will recover. Sir Hana is being questioned as we speak." The foot man says, head lowered all the while.

If Hana is being questioned, that means that he is well enough for conversation. Good, at least he is awake and alert. "Was there a blonde haired man with them? He has darker skin than Hana and grey colored eyes." I can hear the anxiety in my own voice and it's pathetic.

The older man seems to think, a hand raising to rub his shaven chin. "I believe so."

I take a step forward eagerly. "What condition is he in? Is he ill or harmed?"

The man looks up at me in response to my coming forward. "He- no, he is not injured that I could see, but he did seem greatly fatigued with exhaustion. He was shaking, so I suppose he may be ill, as well."

Ill? It must have rained on their journey, and if the temperatures in Ghana are anywhere similar to here, he should be stricken with a fever and chills. I wish more than anything that I could see him, but I know quite well that my Guardsmen will not allow me to leave, and with good reason.

They recall the king's threat- if I am misplaced, their necks will be headless. I can not even think about that happening to one of my men, and I would never dream of putting them in that sort of danger, no matter how badly I wish to see everyone that I've missed.

My bed sinks as I sit on the edge of it, feeling suddenly tired. "I will pray for their swift recovery. Please be certain that someone notifies me if anything changes."
The foot man bows, stepping back over the threshold. "Of course, my lady."

Darion closes the door with a quiet groan of the wood 's protest before resuming his formal position.

Lance is looking at me, but my gaze is transfixed on my hands that rest on my lap. "What do you wish me to do?" He asks, voice soft.

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose, exhaustion overwhelming me. "You should go to your chambers and clean up, you smell like a heifer," I pause to shake my head, kneading my shoulder muscles with one hand. "I am sorry, that was rude. Do as you wish, brother."

I catch his eye as I look up. Check on my men, please. I wish to know how Jed is fairing, as well. Also, will you do what you can to learn of Danak's situation? Forgive me for putting you up to this.

A faint smile appears beneath my brothers beard. I will do what I can without raising suspicion.
"Of course. I will retire to my chambers for now," He bows before turning to leave. "I will be returning later on, so be expecting me at the door." Lance says, loud enough for the men to hear before exiting.

"Darion and the others will let you in, brother. Take your time and take a rest, if you can." I call, reaching for one of the books that are stacked in a tower on my bedside table. The maids had to request some help with toting them all here from the library on the first floor, and had set them on empty surfaces throughout the chambers while I was busy pacing a track in the floor.
Apparently there are quite a bit more volumes of mythical creatures than I had anticipated, and all of the covers have a layer of dust from disuse.

I set the tome down with a sigh and scan the spines of the other five on my stand before getting up to wander to another stack of books. I pause when I see that one of the covers has been dusted off. I flip through it, pausing when I see a page marked up with ink from a quill.
The King's distinct hand writing is scrawled throughout the next few pages as well, drawing lines to and from certain paragraphs on the old, dry parchment. I take the book back to my bed and am joined by Sage as I lay on my stomach, flipping through and scanning the marked pages.

All of the King's markings seem to highlight anything to do with a Chimera, and I read each section carefully. He had planned this out with more caution than I had thought- he specifically chose a Chimera for a reason, rather than selecting whatever ra

ndom creature he came upon to disguise .

My brow knits together as I thumb through the pages, pausing when I come to an old, intricate picture that was drawn here some years ago. The creature has two heads, one that resembles a goat aond the other that looks like what I saw in the looking glass- the head of a lion.

This creature has the tail of a serpent, which I hadn't seen on Sage. Perhaps I was too captivated by her all consuming eyes to notice much of anything else. I run my hand over the drawing, rubbing a finger over the words beneath it, followed by what appear to be characteristics of the beast.

Chimeras can grow to be as large as a full grown man, and have a tendency to become extremely protective of things they claim as theirs. When they deem an object or person as belonging to them, they will mark them in a way that is visible. Biting or scratching the object are just two of many ways a Chimera may display it's ownership of something. A Chimera is a creature of loyalty, and they have been known to protect their objects with their lives, or until the belonging dies itself.

Chimera's do not begin to show signs of a serpent tail until age two and the head of a goat is not visible until the age of six, when the creature is fully matured. The creature's lifespan varies between two and three hundred years, unless killed by unnatural causes. Both male and female Chimera's have the head and mane of a male lion and the feet of a black bird. Color of the animal's coat varies due to age, gender, and bloodlines.

Both the color of their eyes and the mane on their necks are judges of the animal's strength and spirit: How bright the eye color is judges how much spirit they have, and the length and thickness of the mane considers the strength of the Chimera's body.

I pause my reading to look at Sage, who is curled up beside me, her tail tucked over her nose as she rests. I reach out to stroke the top of her head, causing her to look up quickly. I do not know if my eyes are playing tricks on me, or if her eyes really did flash red with a fire. Either way, they are dulled back to her usual cognac colored orbs in a moment.

The dog kisses my hand before flipping on her back expectantly and letting her tongue loll out of the side of her mouth.

"So, you're pretty young yet, aren't you?" I question quietly, scratching her belly. When I had seen her reflection, I did not notice a goat head or snake-like tail, so she cannot be older than a year and a half or so judging by this book. The King wanted her to imprint on me for some reason. Surely it is not because he cares about my well being, he made it quite clear an hour or less ago that he did not.

As I read on, I learn that the younger the Chimera is, the easier they imprint on a person or object, hence deeming them theirs. But I haven't been marked by Sage yet, so it would seem that she is still deciding if she wants me to be her property or not. If that isn't the story of my life, I do not know what is. I pray that she makes up her mind sooner rather than later, as I give her another scratch.

I am about to begin reading again, when Darion peeks through a crack he created in my inner door. Had Lance returned already?

"Who are you?" I hear Darion question, stance taking on one of protectiveness. He rests a hand on his belt, alerting the other men.

I hear someone's muffled reply, but I cannot make out what they say.

Sage growls softly and leaps off of the bed, her tail held high as she trots to the door, sniffing the air between the crack.

"Is she expecting you? You look like you should be resting. The foot man said no one would be visiting my lady until morning, at least. Perhaps it would be best if you rested a bit." Darion says, relaxing his hand on his weapon.

"Darion," I ask, setting the book down and sliding off of my bed. "Who is it?" If they are supposed to be resting, it must be someone from Sam's party who has defied their orders to come and see me.

"Please, just let me see her. Then I promise to leave and rest." The man sounds exhausted, but it doesn't sound like they plan on leaving here without seeing me.

My heart skips a beat as I recognize the voice and sprint to the door, shoving it open the rest of the way.

I can only imagine what my face looks like as I stare at Jed, shock no doubt evident on my features. I waste no time leaping at him, and he catches me in an embrace warmer than I could have imagined. I cannot control the sob that breaks free from my lips as he just stands there, cradling me in his arms. All of the emotion I had allowed to build up all day seems to come out all at once like a flood.

"Jed!" I gasp as another sob racks my body. For once, I don't feel pathetic allowing myself to cry. Not here, not with him. "You're alright! You- It had been so long, I was beginning to think-" I break off and shake my head, burying my face into his dirty neck. His tunic is damp over his solid chest, and he smells strongly of salt and fish. The material is silken beneath my skin, making be realize that this must be one of Sam's shirts. That would explain the smell. Jed hadn't even taken the time to bathe before he came here, and I don't care at all.

I feel Jed laugh, a rich sound that shakes his whole body as he squeezes me tightly. "No- no, I'm alright, we're all alright. I promised that I would come back to you," He sounds so relieved that he could cry. Jed steps back to hold me at arms length so that we can better look at each other.

He wipes my tears from my cheeks and smiles, leaning to touch my forehead to his. His skin is hot against mine and his grey eyes are glazed over with fever, just as the foot man had suspected. He has a healing cut on his cheek, but seems otherwise unharmed. He looks purely exhausted, but nothing that a good night's rest won't cure.

"I've missed you. I know it has only been a week, but I've missed you so much. I wasn't sure if I would ever see you again-"

I quiet his words with a shake of my head, putting a hand over his chest. "Stop it. You're here now, and so are my men. You're all alright. That's what matters," Sage had been sniffing Jed since the door opened, but she no longer growls at him.

Jed hasn't seemed to notice her, too caught up in looking at me in adoration.

I swallow as my cheeks warm. "Everyone is alright, aren't they?" I recall the footman reporting that one of the men were unconscious.

Jed nods once after a moment of thinking. "Castiel is alive, but he hasn't woken since we left Ghana. Everyone else is in decent health- aside from being weather beaten and exhausted." He adds, finally glancing down at Sage as she sits beside me.

"That is so good to hear. I pray that Cas will be alright, but we have the best physician. I trust that he will recover in no time," I take Sage's relaxing as a good sign, and take the opportunity to introduce her. "Oh, this is Sage. While I'm at it, I may as well notify you that I am being held in my chambers until further notice. There is so much to tell you-"

"Hey! You aren't supposed to be in there!" Someone calls from the hallway, cutting me off. Their footsteps are accompanied by several others, but neither of us move as they run towards us.

Jed strokes my cheeks with his thumbs and smiles down at me, charming even in his weathered state. "I should go, but I promise I will be back tomorrow after I sleep a little," He surprises me by planting a soft kiss on my forehead, making my heart beat madly. "Sleep well, Lyra. Wait for me."

I nod dumbly as a group of angry Guardsmen roughly grab Jed's shoulders, pulling him back from me. "Stop being so rough with him, he is ill!" I yell, stopping the men in their tracks. Sage barks menacingly and I point a finger at them, voice lowering with a threat. "You take good care of this man, or I swear I will make you regret even breathing on him. Understood?"

"Y-yes, milady." One stammers, releasing the harsh hold he had on the back of Jed's neck. "The King ordered that all of those returning today are to be rested and tended to. Those well enough to are permitted to visit you tomorrow." He explains apologetically, nervously eyeing the black dog who quiets as I touch her head.

I nod in understanding. "Fine, just take care of him. He is my guest, so I expect him to be given the best care. Be certain he is fed a hot meal and given a warm change of clothes." I finish my sentence looking at Jed, unable to help my smile.

He gives a tired smile, but the light reaches his gray eyes as they crinkle slightly in the corners.

I feel my cheeks redening, but I force the heat back down. "I will wait for you, then." I say, voice even and gentler than before.

Jed reaches to take my hand in his, running his thumb over my healing knuckles. His touch is so gentle, yet it makes my head swim. I think I forget to breathe.

His eyes glisten as he kisses my bent fingers, a promise of something more on his breath. "Sleep well, my Princess. I will always come back to you."

~

A/N

Not as long as some of the other's, but I hope you liked it!

The picture posted is of Sage as a Chimera, minus the goat head and serpent tail, as she is too young to grow those yet.

Let me know what you thought, and I'll try not to keep you waiting too long!

Love always and God bless,

-A.