The Midnight Storm

Yeah, I finally updated. Chapter 8 to come.

Chapter Seven
\"Aggressiveness is the principal guarantor of survival.\"
-Robert Ardry


\"People kill what they fear. They burned, and drowned, and hanged those they saw as witches, the devil\'s servants: the wise women and the cunning men, the unfortunate, the lost and the strange\"
-Neil Gaiman


A crowd began to gather outside the grand hall. Balin, Ronan, and Donnan came out at a jog. Cadwallen was nowhere to be found; he had to know by now that it wasn’t Aragon who drank the wine.

“What is he on about?” Ronan asked, watching him walk up and down the hallway, still screaming Cadwallen’s name.

“Not here,” Kyara said, “somewhere private,” she added softly.

Balin and Donnan looked at each other and nodded. She, Trunks, Donnan, Balin, and Ronan all walked to her father’s study, Ronan closing the door behind them.

“What in the name of all that is sacred is going on?” Balin demanded.

“The note Aragon supposedly sent me- it was a set up. I’m willing to bet that he received one that was supposedly from me.”

Donnan cursed, “I should have known.”

“That is not all. In the library was- Dogmath’s wine. The Wine of Prurience. Had Gwennon not gone into labor, and Aragon had come, and we had drunk the wine…”

“You and Aragon would have… damn him!” Ronan cursed.

“And you saw this wine, as well?” Balin asked, looking at Trunks.

“I… drank it,” he admitted, finally.

Balin’s head swung around to look at Kyara, “And you, too?”

Kyara nodded, not self-conscious, not ashamed, “Yes. The prince and I had sex, Balin.”

Balin shook his head, “At least it wasn’t Aragon. And Aragon is unaware, thankfully. There is no need to spoil this night for him with that knowledge.”

“Agreed,” Kyara said, “although Gwennon must answer for her crimes.”

“She is a mother, Kyara, having the first child the Unseelie have seen in two decades. You were the last.”

Kyara nodded, “Then she must tell us why she did it, or at least, who she is working for.”

“It is obvious she is working for Dogmath,” Ronan said.

“Or his mother, or any number of people who side with them. Even though we are both mixed-blood, they believe his blood stronger because his mother was a noble. My mother was a concubine- not much higher in standing than a servant.”

“She is right,” Donnan said, “it is not just Dogmath, but also his mother, and his allies we must be wary of. The princess must leave the planet tonight.”

There were nods from everyone but Kyara, who said, “I am exhausted.”

“You can sleep on the ship,” Trunks said, “There is a bedroom, even though it is small.”

Balin agreed, “We leave tonight, princess, but I must tell your father of what happened.”

“Even about,” she turned to look at Trunks.

Balin nodded, “Even that. I don’t think his reaction will be a happy one, but it should be one mixed with relief.”

Kyara sighed, “As you will, Balin.”

Balin turned and opened the door. Screams of panic flooded the room which hadn’t been heard through the sound proof door and walls- all for privacy from prying ears, and warded with spells and enchantments to prevent magical eavesdropping. They all ran out into the hallway, where someone shouted for Balin.

“The king! Owain has been attacked!”

“Someone send for a healer! Send for them all!”

Kyara was running now, pushing her way through the crowd with her telekinesis, throwing people aside as though dolls. It did two things: it made people back away, clearing a path for her and the guard, and made way for the healers who were running toward them. Kyara came upon the scene and sank to her knees.

He was trembling on the floor, mumbling incoherently. She took his hand- something that was much too cold for anything alive, into hers.

“Father,” she cried, kneeling beside him, “what happened to you?”

“Dog… angry... k… k… Cadwallen dead. I… must… find… k… Kyara.”

“I’m here, father.”

His eyes found hers and focused for a moment before glazing over again, “Get away from here.”

He began babbling incoherently again, sometimes failing to create words. His eyes were full of fear, something Kyara had never seen in her father before. The healers surrounded her and Ronan gently pulled her to her feet.

“Give them room, Kyara,” he said, gently pulling her away as they swarmed him.

“Ronan, Donnan, Trunks… get Kyara to the ship, now.” Balin barked, “Donnan, you will be going back to Vegeta with the princess.”

“What?”

“I am staying here to guard the king and get to the bottom of this.”

“It is my job. I am captain of the guard.”

“Not any longer,” Balin said, “We have all failed Owain and I will not see him failed again. Besides, Donnan,” Balin said, “if the King dies, Kyara will be next. There are few people I trust to guard her and you and Ronan are it.”

Donnan finally nodded, looking to Ronan and Trunks. Balin looked at Trunks, “A word, Trunks, please.”

Trunks stepped over to him, and Balin watched as the healers worked frantically. Finally, he spoke, “Take care of her.”

Trunks eyes opened in surprise, “Donnan and Ronan will.”

Balin shook his head, “Whatever happened between the two of you wasn’t just the wine. It was something more, and although I fear neither Ronan nor Donnan will like it, I am appointing you as part of her guard.”

“It was the wine, Balin, it had to be.”

Balin shook his head once, “No. Not just the wine. Look at your skin.”

Trunks glanced down, and his skin was still alight with a golden glow. He seemed mesmerized by this, “What is it?”
Balin thought to open his mouth, but closed it. Whatever the reason, his heritage had been hidden from him. One thing was for certain, Radditsu knew. He saw the Prince’s power as a thing to be harnessed- by breeding more of them.

Balin wouldn’t lie, not outright, “If Kyara drank the wine, she couldn’t have controlled her power. Obviously, she gave some of that power to you. We have yet to see if it will last.”

“Last?” Trunks asked.

Kyara finally spoke, “You’ll have to ask your mother, Trunks. It is not something that is our place to tell you.”

Trunks looked at her, and back at his hands, fascinated by them. Ronan put his arm around him, “For at least tonight, brother, you are Fey. It can sometimes happen during sex with a non-Fey. The wine doesn’t do it, but the magic does.”

“Get to the ship, now,” Balin said, “the healers are doing what they can.”

“Yes,” Ronan said, “if Dogmath takes the throne, we need her well away from him. Vegeta is pretty far away.”

Kyara was still too much in shock, watching as the healers carried her father away. Ronan nudged her softly down the hall, supporting her. Silent tears streamed down her face, glistening on the still softly glowing skin. No one knew for certain that Dogmath had done this, but everyone was sure who hadn’t. There were those loyal to the king out of love, those loyal out of fear, and those who weren’t loyal at all, but were just waiting for an opportunity to arise to try and put Dogmath on the throne.

Ronan put Kyara into the bed on the spaceship, where she fell almost immediately into a troubled sleep.

She stood alone on a hillside, underneath an oak tree. The wind whipped her dress and hair to one side. She breathed it in, exhaling it, turning into the wind. She closed her eyes, feeling the wind on her face, turning in a circle, smiling. When she opened her eyes, her father stood before her, his arms outstretched as if to embrace her. As she moved towards him, a sword pierced him from behind and he fell, his blood soaking the ground. The light turned to dark and a great storm came, lightning hitting the oak which she was standing beneath. She jumped, and Ronan was there, as well as Donnan, and Balin, and they were mourning. They looked at her, their eyes saddened with grief. Dogmath appeared, laughing, his smile like something that was not sane, not by human standards and not even by Fey standards. He leered over the grave, a crown of garland on his head. Kyara moved closer to look into the grave and Dogmath pushed her into the darkness and she sank into it, screaming.

When Donnan and Ronan burst into the room, she realized she had been screaming for real. She panted, struggling to lose the choking feeling of falling into nothingness. Donnan let out an audible sigh of relief that echoed through the room.

“Are you alright, Princess?” Ronan asked.

She nodded, falling back to the pillows, “It was just a dream. Please, I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.”

“Who are you asking?” Ronan challenged, looking from her to Donnan.

Kyara sighed. She was incredibly tired, and all she really wanted was the feel of a warm body pressed to hers. “All of you, if you want. The bed is big enough.”

Trunks had appeared in the doorway, concern etched on his face, “I will see that the ship is on course,” he said, then looked at Kyara, “No offense, but I am not into- multiple partners… three is one thing, but four gets a little tiresome.”

Kyara smiled, “I understand, although all we will be doing is sleeping.”

Trunks smiled back, “Another reason I should bow out. I am not sure I could be so close and not…” he didn’t need to finish his sentence. He was acting the Fey, even if he didn’t know it. He knew she just needed someone to hold her, and he wasn’t it. Not tonight. Nevertheless, there would be other nights when she would turn to him to comfort her. Just. Not. Tonight. He closed the door behind him. Donnan and Ronan stripped down, completely soft and naked before lying down on either side of her. She closed her eyes, snuggling into the space under Donnan’s chin as Ronan pressed in behind her. It was lovely, being between the two of them. Hopefully, they would keep the nightmares at bay.


When she woke up, Ronan and Donnan were gone. The ship was still humming, which meant that they had not landed yet. She blinked her eyes, forcing the sleep from them. She had no idea how long she had been asleep, but her question was soon answered when Trunks looked in.

“You’re awake. We’re about two hours out now. When you sleep, you really sleep.”

She smiled, “Yeah. I can do that. I’ve been out for twenty or more hours, then.”

Trunks nodded, “Yes. Your father is holding on for now. Balin called a few hours ago, but wouldn’t allow us to wake you. He said that it wasn’t necessary, but that there was general unrest at the court. There are whispers that the king is going to die.”

Kyara nodded sadly, “No doubt Dogmath started those whispers.”

Trunks shrugged, “Balin did not say, but he was adamant that you be kept away from your half-brother. Ronan and Donnan agreed.”

Kyara bowed her head, knowing that she would probably miss her father’s funeral when it came to it. Dogmath would begin grabbing power as soon as he could, possibly before the king died. Those that feared him would do anything he said to, including killing her. Not because they didn’t like her; because they were terrified of what he would do if they refused.

“You’ll be safe on Vegeta,” Trunks said, gently, “you’ll have more protection there than back in the sithen.”

“I know,” she said, “I just hope it will be enough.”

Trunks nodded, “I hope so, too.”

When they landed on Vegeta, only Bra and the Queen were awaiting them. Bulma looked shocked when she saw Trunks. There was a gleam to his skin and a glow to his eyes that hadn’t been there before. While Kyara’s glow had faded into the alabaster of her skin, Trunks’ had remained. He walked up the stairs to her and stopped, “Mother, we need to talk.”

He continued and Bulma followed him inside; Kyara and the others went to their rooms, Donnan refusing to let Kyara enter until he had searched hers thoroughly, though it was locked and they had to summon the head of household servants to unlock it.


Inside Trunks’ room, his mother sat on the bed, her hands in her lap, staring at them. Trunks pulled out the desk chair and sat in it.

“Look at me, mother.”

Bulma looked up, her own eyes shining, “Yes, son?”

Trunks chuckled wryly, “What am I? I’ve always been led to believe that I was half human.”

Bulma let out a long sigh, “You are half Seelie, Trunks, not half human.”

Trunks looked down at his hands, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I had long ago given up what I was. It wasn’t something I thought…”

“It wasn’t something you thought I should know? Mother!”

“I know you’re angry with me, Trunks, and perhaps you have every right to be, but I had my reasons. I didn’t want you asking questions that were too painful for me to bear. I wasn’t magic enough for them, and neither are you. You don’t understand how… closed-minded they can be about someone who isn’t as magical as they are. How, when I chose to marry your father, I was cast out; exiled from them like so much garbage”

Trunks sighed, “I still should have known, mother.”

Bulma sighed, “Perhaps.”

“You should tell Bra, too. She should know.”

“Trunks,” Bulma began, but he cut her off.

“You tell her or I will.”

“And what? Have her be disappointed when her powers don’t manifest? Have her crying in my lap when she realizes she’ll never truly be one of them?”

“There’s always the Unseelie, mother. They accept anyone.”

Bulma swallowed, “My daughter is not a monster, nor is my son.”

“Nor is Kyara, or Balin, Ronan, or Donnan, or many of the others I’ve met. They may not be so- prudish, they may be a bit more open with their violence, but they are not monsters.”

“No, Kyara is not a monster.” Bulma finally said, “But I think there’s a little more to what you’re feeling for her than just being concerned for her welfare.”

“So what if there is? I am a grown man, mother.”

Bulma bowed her head, “Yes, you are. And Kyara wouldn’t be an unacceptable match, but…” she stopped at the glare in his eyes.

“I choose who my mate will be mother, not you and certainly not my father. Me!”

Trunks stormed out of the room, slamming the door with a ferocity that made Bulma jump before her shoulders sagged and she began to sob.