Are We Clear?

Writers: Miriah, Suzee
Date Posted: 8th January 2020

Characters: Yriadha, Bryvin
Description: Yriadha and Bryvin have an argument about what happened with the creche and Yavin.
Location: Sunstone Seahold
Date: month 1, day 14 of Turn 10
Notes: Takes place after "Creche Duties Gone Wrong"

Yriadha

Bryvin

After getting Yavin cleaned up, soothed, and cossetted, Yriadha was
content to leave him with an experienced creche worker whom Yavin
adored. The small boy immediately went to playing, the incident
forgotten in favor of the available toys, but Yriadha had hardly
forgotten. It hadn't been difficult to make a decision, and it had
been easy enough to chose who to implement it. She simply had to speak
to the young man, offer some marks, and it would be done. Gathering
the marks from a drawer in her apartments, she made to walk out, but
came face to face with Bryvin as she opened the door. She arched a
brow and looked up at him. "Yes, my Lord?"

"What are you doing Yriadha?" He looked pointedly down at the marks
and back up at her face with a raised eyebrow.

She lifted her chin and gave a false sweet smile that healed more bite
than humor. "Personal business, my Lord. Was there something you
needed?"

"Yeah right," he said and stepped into her room closing the door
behind him. "You're not going anywhere until we discuss it."

Frustration immediately bloomed and she stiffened. "I'm afraid I don't
know what you mean," she attempted smoothly. "Since when am I required
to go to you to approve my personal purchases, my Lord? Was that
stipulation hidden in my father's will where I didn't see it?"

His head reared back "Oh please," he almost sneered at her. "Do I
suddenly look crackbrained to you?" He ran fingers through his hair
and narrowed his eyes. "Let me guess what you plan to purchase then.
An accident of some sort for Lady Oufelle? Am I close?"

Dark eyes snapped fire at him. "I would never attempt to harm a hair
on her pretty, little vapid head, my Lord. " She shot back just as
quickly. "I know how valuable she potentially is. More so than my son,
apparently. "

"My son too madam," he said in a low voice. "Don't you forget that.
I've also told you before that you are not do anything that will
effect the Hold without my permission." He bent close to her as he
said the last few words. "I still mean that. I need her father's good
will, and nothing can compromise her here while she's under my
protection. Are we clear?"

Her cheeks flamed with barely controlled anger and her hands curled
into fists hard enough for her nails to deeply score her palms. "Yes,
nothing to compromise her while she's here. " She spat out. "But
_your_ bastard son needs no such consideration. If that had happened
to Brylex, you'd be furious. But since it's Yavin and no one knows who
he is but you and I, then he can expect more of the same from anyone
with a hint of acknowledged Blood because he's less!"

"Trust me," he ground out. "I _am_ furious. I'm just not willing to
shaft the entire Hold to get my revenge. I have to know when to
control my temper and when to let it fly. You're more the 'let it fly
and to the dawn sisters with the consequences.' You are _not_ going to
do that this time. No matter what kind of insults you throw at me."
He'd heard her words and the way she'd phrased it made him understand
just how deeply she felt about their son.

Yriadha openly scoffed. "I know when you're furious, _my Lord_. " She
flung the marks back on her table. "This isn't anywhere close to it.
She drew blood on him! Does that mean nothing to you?" True, it had
only been a slight scratch over the knuckles of his little hand, but
to Yriadha it had meant far more. She faced Bryvin fully, meeting his
glare with her own, for the moment proving his point with her own
temper. "How much will he have to be hurt until you decide he's worth
something?"

"Oh," he asked calmly. "You see what I let you see," He smiled a
slightly dangerous smile. "Let me ask you Yriadha. Did you see the
backhand coming when I first knocked you to the floor in my office?
Did I telegraph it in any way before you were looking up from your
back?"

She went still, her eyes narrowing even as they flicked to his hand
and then back up to his face, taking the statement as a threat of a
possible repeat of those actions. She took a slow step back, a flash
of real pain in her eyes before her face went utterly cold and remote.
She remembered that experience far too well. "Your point is very well
taken, my Lord. Lady Oufelle is in no danger from me. Her family's
good will is of course far more important than any personal
consideration of mine."

"Thank you," he said. "And I promise you that at a time of _my_
choosing your son will have an inheritance. But you will never accuse
me of not caring for him again." He looked at her steadily for a
moment and then into the other room where he could see his son and he
let his eyes soften. "I care for you and for him. but you will not
force my hand. So I will bid you goodnight." He opened the door and
strode out.

She stood stiffly as he left, her back straight as a board, dismissing
his words as soon as she heard them. She didn't believe any of them;
not his promise, not any of what he said, not for one moment. And
while she might not openly accuse Bryvin of not caring for Yavin,
nothing she'd seen had convinced her otherwise. The moment the door
clicked shut, she unclenched one fist and saw the bloody half-moon
marks her nails had left on her palm. It was up to her to protect her
son; she was the only one who would.

Last updated on the February 1st 2020

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