Hi Guys!

Sorry for the delay on this Chapter, I was in the UK for a month and didn't get it uploaded before I left. I intended to upload it while I was on holiday but I couldn't find a good way of writing the end of the Chapter. Personally I blame Obsidian for this, he is not happy with how things are currently going. But I won't spoil anything and I hope you guys enjoy the Chapter!

I hope everyone is looking forward to Christmas,
Much love,
Daisy xox

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Chapter 32 | Unwilling

*

'If Truth & Curiosity ever birthed
    a child
she would be called,
c h a o s
And all the answers to every question
    would dance,
  like the wind in her hair.'

-Anon

*

OBSIDIAN

Inside a dimly lit room in the bowels of a Pirate ship a dim lamp flickered, its feeble flame providing just enough illumination to cast a warm glow on the three figures placed around the room. Near the door sat a table where Obsidian lounged, long nimble fingers playing idly with a small hourglass. The sand inside the device barely had time to fall before it was switched back the other way and it stuttered in the middle, confused.

A barely noticeable breeze slithered under the door and the flame inside the lamp danced on cue, the light bouncing off the bars of the cells, coercing elongated shadows to leap a forced ballet across the floor. Down the other end of the room a large mound of ice protruded unnaturally from the wall, glistening wetly in the light.

The hourglass at the mercy of Obsidians whims changed direction in his hand once again, his other hand elegantly propping up his head as he watched the show play out before him. On occasion his eyes would flicker to the woman locked in the cell, as though gauging her reaction, but inevitably he would be drawn back to her.

He ran his tongue across his teeth and pushed down a smug smirk of self-satisfaction. Now was not the time to indulge in his own personal pleasure. However, it was very rare that he was provided with such an opportunity as to watch someone else preform the role of the 'hunter', for want of a better word. Normally it was he who assumed this role, the one who would pry answers from behind tight lipped teeth with the delicate aid of 'other means' once mere words no longer proved sufficiently persuasive.

Any such persuasive words had actually yet to fall from Circe's mouth, all she had been doing was standing still with her back to the cell, but Obsidian thought that he could have cut the tension in the room with a knife.

Obsidian's calculating gaze switched to Jhaer. The woman was an assassin after all and as such, she would not be broken easily. This resolve was reflected in her seemingly unaffected expression as she sat in the middle of the cell with her eyes closed, apparently ignoring the presence of the other two that shared the room with her. There were tell-tale signs though ... obvious only to his well-trained eye. A long moment passed. And then another.

"Well?" Jhaer demanded suddenly, her eyes flashing open to capture Obsidian's gaze as she somehow managed to convey her intentions within that single word alone.

He left her waiting for a moment before a sinister smirk teasingly snuck into the edges of his lips. He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly but condemned her with his eyes. "You're asking the wrong person," he said casually, with an undercurrent of dark humour, "after underestimating her once, I would have thought you would have learnt not to ignore her again."

Circe had turned to Jhaer while the other woman was faced away and when Jhaer turned back to her Obsidian could tell that she had not been expecting to suddenly see the bright blue eyes that pierced through the distance between them. Quickly hiding her dissent, the impenetrable mask slipped back into place and she straightened. Obsidian chuckled softly and did not miss the slight twitch of unease Jhaer gave at the sound of his mirth.

Ignoring him now, she directed her next question to Circe.

"I can tell you now that you won't get anything from me."

It was more of a statement than a question Obsidian mused, and it wasn't very polite either. He rubbed his jaw absentmindedly. Circe had requested that she alone be the one to speak to Jhaer and he would put up with it for now, after all, he wanted to watch how his Princess would handle the situation, but if things got out of hand, well.

He shifted in his chair, making it creak obviously. Jhaer's eyes flickered towards the movement, just for a second but it was enough to read the warning he sent her. Behave or else.

Or else you won't get her next time, you'll get me, the implication was clear.

Jhaer spoke again, this time through gritted teeth, "What do you want from me?"

Obsidian smirked, it was better, if marginally. If he was in Jhaer's position he would choose Circe over himself any day. He looked at the cells thoughtfully for a moment and could not help imagining he was the one restrained inside, Circe waiting for him just beyond the bars. 

Right at that particular moment Circe glanced over at him and was a little astonished to see his face turned away from her hidden in one hand, while the other hand was clenched into a white knuckled fist on the table. She opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong but Jhaer spoke again, and she was distracted, turning back to the other woman.

Obsidian gritted his teeth and managed to force the previous image from his mind as he swallowed thickly. Well that had been a bad idea. With effort he turned back to the scene in front of him, resuming his previous position and trying not to let his thoughts wander towards other ... damnit. He frowned and folded his arms across his chest, concentrating on what Circe was now saying.

"I'm going to talk," Circe began, "and you don't have to say anything."

Jhaer's eyes narrowed a minuscule amount and Obsidian could tell this was not what she had been expecting. "Why do you think I would-"

"I'm sorry," Circe interjected, cutting the other woman short, "I'm not practiced. Let me try again. I am going to talk, and you are going to listen. And then, once I have finished speaking, you will have your turn. If you can't follow a simple instruction, then I will have Obsidian help you."

Obsidian ran his tongue over his teeth in satisfaction and decided that he quite enjoyed the way Circe spoke about him as though he was a beast she kept on a leash for her amusement. Well, he thought smugly as he leant back more comfortably in his chair, that was partially true.

Jhaer was still staring at Circe, small tremors emitting from her body every now and then. It was clear that the incident with Katarina had already done most of their work for them, Jhaer was rattled and cornered. There was nowhere left to run.
The two did not break eye contact until a sudden imperceptible shift in the tension in the room caused Jhaer to fold and she looked away first, her mouth stretching into a thin line, the only indication she had chosen to abide by Circe's conditions.

And then Circe began to speak. It was a story Obsidian had lived personally, but it was the first time he had heard it in such detail, from his beloved's point of view. She did not skip any details as she told Jhaer the tale of Obsidian's capture and vilification, not that his reputation had been a good one to begin with. She disclosed her true identity, who she was related to, her place in a Kingdom she had decided to turn away from. She spoke of her fears, and the plot she had begun to uncover as she accompanied Obsidian to his execution. She informed the assassin how Aranel had been exposed to Circe as the one who had framed Obsidian, and how Circe had gone to rescue him, but had been held back and forced to watch him die.

Halfway through the story Obsidian's eyes had slid shut, the emotions stirring under the surface of Circe's face doing uncomfortable things to his heart, but he had been unable to keep his eyes from her for long and once he opened them again he found himself so enraptured that he was unable to look away until the last word slid from her mouth and the room was met with silence.

"So now you know both sides," Circe uttered with finality.

"And so, what." Jhaer spoke after a moment, her tone taciturn. "Do you expect me to just disclose everything I know because you 'trusted' me with this information?" She spat to the side of herself and Obsidian leaned forward in response, long fingers clasping together. Jhaer spared him a fleeting glance but seemed to no longer care about the potential threat he posed. "You take me for a fool after all," she scowled, "You-"

"I am tired of your assumptions," Circe spoke loudly, cutting over top of the other woman, her eyes flashing in her first true display of anger. "I am not so naïve!"

Staring down her nose at the prisoner in front of her, for a moment Obsidian was reminded of a Princess standing alone on her balcony, surveying the carnage of the burning town at her feet while her white nightgown swirled about her person. A deity, untouched by the carnage of the world. He let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding and licked his lips. His eyes flickered with hunger, the scene from so long ago still as crisp in his mind as the night he had witnessed it.

"I am not so naïve," Circe uttered again, "to think that such a thing would change your mind. However, I also do not believe I have the right to simply demand information from you without providing context first."

"And you'd expect me to believe you would offer this consideration to all of your prisoners?" Jhaer scoffed, "Your methods are certainly eccentric."

"Of course not," Circe replied curtly, blue eyes narrowing, "so instead you should take a moment to consider why I have chosen to offer this courtesy to you."

Jhaer seemed to stumble at that, words momentarily escaping her. For a moment she seemed ready to throw another barbed comment, but it died on her lips and instead a stiff sentence was formed, forced jerkily out of her mouth as though the very words strangled her tongue.

"Why should I give you what you want? You make it sound like you are on the good side and maybe you are." The assassin shifted uncomfortably in her cell, her eyes relighting in their defiance, "What does it matter to me if you are? You forget that someone like me does not have the luxury of deciding what is right from wrong. Those choices are made for me. I used to be able to choose the jobs I took, but not anymore. What can you give me if I comply with your wishes? How can you secure my freedom? Can you guarantee that I won't be killed as soon as I step foot off this ship?"

Obsidian's interest piqued. This was taking an interesting turn, Jhaer seemed to be bargaining and he knew from experience that Jhaer did not bargain.

"I don't particularly have an interest in offering you anything you don't already have." Circe said coolly, studiously ignoring the poorly concealed snort of mirth that came from Obsidians direction as her bluntness caught him off guard, "however. You will tell me what I want to know, and in return, you will be allowed to stay in this cell, where your safety is at least partially guaranteed. And once we are finished with you, you will be free to leave."

Obsidian tried to cover his grin. He could see from Jhaer's face that she was startled. She had expected to negotiate, however Circe hadn't even offered her the option. Obsidian wondered at his Kittens methods, feeling slightly bemused. He wondered if she knew that the term 'negotiation' generally implied that she had to concede somewhat, rather than just state her demands bluntly.

Circe's firm expression did not sway as she continued, "Coincidently, I would imagine that this confrontation will involve us taking care of Aranel, so I highly doubt that while she is occupied with us she would bother to remember which human was hired as an assassin and when. I would imagine that after we are finished with her, your existence will not even linger in her mind." She raised one thin, blonde, brow. "As for Katarina, she would not risk capture to come here again, she has been exposed as a traitor to my Mother. She will be keeping her head down." 

Obsidian chuckled softly. His clever Kitten was perfectly right of course, it was very doubtful Aranel would have time to be bothered with Jhaer after he himself showed up on her doorstep. Which he was going to do of course. And after Circe had taken back her brother, Obsidian was going to take delight in peeling Aranel's flesh from her bones, one grisly strip of meat at a time. Maybe he would make her dragon eat it. He hadn't decided yet, but the options were tantalizing.

"You make a fair point," Jhaer admitted stonily, after a long silence, "however, there is not much I can tell you unfortunately."

"Any information regarding my brother is welcome. You were initially taking us somewhere," Circe said, "where were we going?"

"I don't know," Jhaer said stiffly.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Circe demanded, "You were the one sailing the vessel!"

"I mean," Jhaer said defensively, "that I don't know! Katarina was supposed to direct the currents to take over control of the boat once I had got to a certain point. This is what I meant when I said it was pointless to ask me any questions. Any information I have, I already gave. Your other Brother is alive, and assumedly Aranel has him in her possession, otherwise she would not have sent me to Nathaniel with that information."

Circe was trembling slightly, her eyes wide and staring, "Why did they want Nathaniel?" her voice quivered, "what could they need him for?"

Jhaer did not look away even as she spoke the words, they both expected to hear, "I do not know. They didn't disclose that information. I am merely for hire, I am given a target and information related to my mission, and that is all."

Obsidian, staring coolly at Jhaer, could see that the assassin was speaking the truth, which led them back to square one. "We should have caught Katarina when we had the chance," he cursed under his breath, "Circe, she is speaking the truth. There is no more information she can give us. Let us move on."

He knew Circe had heard him, but she did not acknowledge his words, her eyes fixed instead on Jhaer. He could see the cogs working in her mind, rethinking back over the information, reassessing Katarina and Jhaer's words, looking for any hint, anything they had missed, anything, anything at all.

"Love," he rose to his feet, placing himself between the cell and Circe, efficiently hiding her from view. "Love," he repeated, "we will find him. I will find a way." Her blue eyes snapped up to meet his, startlingly large in her pale face. She nodded tersely, her jaw tensing.

Suddenly a voice filled both of their minds.

I have a suggestion.

"Anthemin?" Circe breathed aloud, her eyes losing focus momentarily as she replied. You had an idea? What is it?

You aren't going to like it.

Obsidian's eyes narrowed and this time it was he who replied. Tell us.

*

CIRCE

"Absolutely not."

Sitting on his chair in the Captains quarters of his ship, Obsidian's face was murderous as he repeated the words yet again, words Circe had no interest in listening to. She stared him down from where she sat opposite, both refusing to look away first. Cobalt was off to the side, his normally calm expression tense with the same anger that resonated from his brother as he poured over a map that had been laid flat out on the table, scribbling notes every once in a while.

The map was the same one Obsidian had been writing on earlier as he and Anthemin worked together to try and pinpoint a location from which they could begin their hunt for Nathaniel. Anthemin was currently lingering in the back of Circe's mind as those present discussed the option he had suggested. An option that was not an option at all, according to Obsidian.

"There is no way in hell I am asking him for help," Obsidian snarled, his handsome features twisted in disgust, "I'd rather die."

Circe rolled her eyes in an attempt to lighten the angst she was feeling, "You are being dramatic."

"I have to say Circe," Hobbson said mildly from across the table," I don't think it's a good idea either, however it may be our only option."

Obsidian, whose face had lightened with the old man's initial agreeance, had immediately darkened again upon hearing the end of his sentence.

"Thank-you Hobbs," Circe cried in exasperation, "It's not like I want to ask him for help either," she continued, "but this guessing game," she gestured to the map on the table, "isn't getting us anywhere!"

"We will be hunting down his sister," Obsidian hissed venomously, "Who's to say once we find her, they won't just turn around an betray us?"

"In his country, Zalas is the Crown Prince, next in line to the throne," Circe reminded him coolly, "he will do what is right."

"I don't know where all this baseless confidence has come from Princess," Obsidian shot back, "tell me one time that scum Prince has done right by you and I'll eat my words."

His golden eyes, burning with hatred for a person not present in the room, pierced straight through her as she held his gaze. After a long moment he looked away.

"Exactly."

"I'm going,"

"No, you're not."

"with or without you."

"You are being impatient," Obsidian argued, "you aren't thinking rationally."

"I am thinking rationally."

"You need to be patient,"

"Don't" she snapped, anger flaring finally, "you talk to me about being patient. If this is your choice then I'll leave with Anthemin now."

"You are not, going!" Obsidian roared, rising from his chair, his body trembling with barely suppressed rage, "So help me Circe-"

She rose to meet him, her face set, eyes equally determined, "Obsidian Bones," she uttered, her voice deadly, "I will find my brother by any means necessary. You do not dictate what I do."

She watched as her words sunk in, studiously ignoring the hurt that she glimpsed in his eyes.

Between them, Hobbson and Cobalt exchanged glances, both in agreement. They would stay out of this one.

*

ZALAS

Although he did not know it, the Dragon Prince's current mood was alarmingly similar to a certain Pirate Captain at the present moment in time and he paced angrily up and down, Unabonan and Elika both watching him silently from where they sat at the far end of the clearing.

Elika, who was perched on one of Unabonan's colossal, white scaled shoulders, interrupted his furious pacing to observe that a few more days of waiting hardly affected them, and after all, it wasn't as though they had any pressing matters to attend to.

"This," Zalas hissed furiously at her, "is the pressing matter. This is it. It hardly gets more pressing than this!" His long fingers curled into tight fists at his sides, loosening for a moment before clenching again.
Unabonan stared coolly at him, choosing to remain silent. Their Father had made contact this morning, asking for an update on the current status of their journey. Unabonan had been forced to inform him of their suspicions, although they had requested the information be kept from the Queen.
Zalas could not bear the thought of his Mother knowing of her daughter's betrayal before he had confirmed it with his own eyes. He had told his Father so and the Dragon King had begrudgingly agreed, on the condition that they were now to report back to him daily. The news that Aranel and Nelonimi could potentially have betrayed their Kingdom had come as a shock to him as well and he had requested them to resolve everything swiftly. And by request, Zalas meant ordered, The King was not happy. Not at all.

And that was before he had even mentioned the disaster with Circe. Of course, that disgraceful encounter could not be hidden from his Mother or escape her notice. As far as the Queen was concerned, Circe was the main reason Zalas had set out to begin with. Needless to say when she found out that not only had he not resolved things with his cousin, but proceeded to make them worse (probably), she had been so furious that she had summoned a small rain cloud to personally follow Zalas around for four days, where it had drenched him unrelentingly and occasionally electrocuted him with small bursts of lightening.

Unfairly, Unabonan had been seemingly exempt from this punishment, much to Zalas' complete and utter disgust.

"Unabonan is slowly closing in on the location," Elika pointed out, far too reasonably, "once we have that, it will be a simple matter of flying there."

"Things are never that simple when Aranel is involved," Zalas spat out as he resumed his pacing, "and we still don't know what her plan is." He could feel the anger he held towards his sister, boiling inside him, building up with nowhere to go. What could she possible hope to achieve by walking this path? He knew her story, he knew she had nursed a deep hatred inside her for as long as he had been alive, but he also knew she had never acted upon it because then what? Nothing. The was nothing she could have hoped to achieve. Not then, and certainly not now. Or so he had thought. And if so, what had changed? There were too many questions, and beside the deep anger he felt towards Aranel for forcing him into this situation, there was also fear. Fear that once he found her, she would give him answers that he just didn't want to hear. And if that was the case then he-

Zalas paused mid thought, his head snapping up, eyes trained on the sky. The look on his face was one of incredulity.

"Is that ...?" The questioned trailed off, unable to be finished due to the sheer outrageousness off the question.

Unabonan too was looking in the same direction, his reptilian face expressionless as always.

"Surely not," Zalas whispered, his feet carrying him a few steps further forward.

"Zalas," Elika demanded impatiently from behind him and he held up a hand to silence her, his eyes finally able to pick out the black dot growing steadily larger in the distance. He snarled, immediately moving into a defensive position.

Thrusting his consciousness out, he attempted to make contact but recoiled as a wall of hostility slammed into him, blocking his way. Unabonan growled lowly in response and cursing, Zalas tried again only to be met with the same result.

"Damn him," he spat, gnashing his teeth, "Elika, be ready. I don't know what he wants."

The shape had grown large enough now that Elika was easily able to discern for herself, just who it was headed in their direction and she frowned in irritation, her previously relaxed form tensing.

It was only a short time later that a colossal black dragon smashed down into the clearing, leaving great dents in the previously smooth ground, the spines on his back clattering with obvious displeasure as he shifted restlessly, golden eyes trained on Zalas alone. One reptilian lip curled upwards, exposing rows of sharp, pointed teeth and Zalas bared his fangs automatically in response. The previously spacious clearing suddenly seemed far too small, the air heating up around them. The arrival of a smaller white dragon only served to shrink the space further, although suddenly Zalas could no longer bring himself to care, focused instead on the figure dismounting from the white dragons back.

"Circe," he breathed, starting forward although his advancement was halted abruptly by a vicious snarl aimed in his direction.

The black dragon stretched forward, its head shielding Circe from sight momentarily as they appeared to converse. Zalas itched with irritation but remained still. The one golden eye he could see remained trained on his face. Finally, the black dragon pulled back slightly and Circe was revealed, stepping forward with her hand laid placatingly on the dragon's snout. Zalas scoffed at the gesture and the black dragons' eyes narrowed in response.

Barely a second later, and in a move so fluid that the shift between forms was barely perceivable, the hulking form of the beast had vanished, leaving the figure of a man in its place.

For a moment, the two parties merely observed each other. And then Circe stepped forward.

"Hello Zalas," Her tone was guarded, her blue eyes cold as she studied him before turning to acknowledge Unabonan behind him and giving a curt nod in Elika's direction.

Behind her, Obsidian Bones offered no such courtesies, not that Zalas had expected him to. He stood as though tensed for a fight, his body coiled and on edge, as Zalas knew his own to be. Suddenly conscious of this fact, he forced himself to appear to relax. Looking over Obsidian swiftly, he noted that he seemed to be back to full health, no signs of their battle remaining in his stance.

"You're looking well," he remarked offhandedly.

Obsidian was quick to respond, "As are you,"

"Naturally, being of Royal blood my healing rate is faster than one such as yourself. I'm surprised you are even still alive."

Obsidian spat on the ground to the side of him but before he could grind out a reply, Circe beat him to it. "No thanks to you," she said sharply, her eyes piercing through Zalas, "and before you two start, we are not here looking for a fight."

Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of guilt that seemed to creep up inside him whenever she spoke, Zalas forced himself to focus on Circe and her alone, commanding himself to be patient. "Then what are you here for, dear cousin? Please, do tell. You might not have realised, but we currently have our own issues we are dealing with right now. I do not have time for your whims."

"This is not a whim Zalas. It's about Aranel."

Zalas felt his blood run cold but his face remained blank. "What about her?"

"I think you know what."

The tips of Zalas' fingers met together gently as he pondered how best to handle her approach. Finally he replied. "You have information regarding her." It was a statement, not a question. Obviously something drastic had happened. Zalas wasn't stupid, Obsidian Bones would shift Hell itself before he showed up in front of Zalas willingly after their last ... exchange. Obviously Aranel had forced their hand.

"Yes."

Forcing himself to return her gaze, Zalas met Circe's eyes, one brow raising in question. "Well?" He gestured impatiently, "Don't stand there looking like you're expecting to tell me what she's done. Out with it!" He stared her down incredulously. Surely, she didn't still think, after all of this mess, that he was working alongside it even condoned his sisters actions.

There was a moments pause and then Circe seemed to relax slightly, her features softening, yet growing more distressed at the same time.

"She's taken Nathaniel."

Zalas felt his other eyebrow rise to join the first. Well that was unexpected. "Taken?" he questioned.

"Kidnapped," Circe confirmed, "we have been informed that she has my other brother also. Nathaniel's twin."

Zalas frowned, mulling over this new information. "How do you know your informant is telling the truth?" he asked curtly.

"She is telling the truth," Obsidian spoke this time, although it seemed like it pained him to do so, "she has no reason to lie." Zalas quite enjoyed the look on his face so he directed his next question at him.

"Oh and I suppose you can guarantee that?" he probed, "It sounds as though you know this person?"

Obsidian's face contorted some more, much to Zalas' amusement but before he could speak further Circe was standing right in front of him, the palm of her hand cracking across his face. The action stung and he stared down at her, his eyes wide, half acknowledging Elika's cry of outrage from behind him. He held up a hand to stop Elika's inevitable advance, still staring down at Circe's quivering form.

"Take me seriously," Her voice was quiet, but her words carried easily, boring into Zalas' ears as distinctly as if she had shouted. "You didn't help me before when I tried to tell you the truth, so help me now Zalas. I need you, and you owe me this much."

He stared at her a moment longer. The Circe that stood in front of him now was a far cry from the girl he had pulled onto the back of a Dragon not so long ago. The woman that had placed herself in his way now had a presence that stood on equal ground with him and demanded his respect. She had fought for what she wanted and had it torn away. She had accepted a Kingdom and turned it down for her own selfish reasons. She had identified the bad in her life and cut it out without batting an eye. She certainly wasn't the precious, innocent Princess he had first met and taught and trained and he wasn't wholly sure he could say that was a good thing. Far cry from the Ruler he had thought she would become; she was now practically a Pirate.

His gaze drifted slightly over her head to connect fleetingly with another set of eyes and a rueful smile twitched at the corner of his lips. Well he supposed he should retract that last statement; she had become a Queen after all, just not for country or Kingdom. And although the Pirate King did not rule as a monarch, Zalas decided that he had seen enough to begrudgingly acknowledge that the nickname was appropriately given.

Still didn't mean he liked him though.

He sighed, looking back to Circe. And if he was perfectly honest with himself, if his mother discovered he had passed up this chance to aid Circe, he would probably be cursed with a storm cloud for the rest of his life, forget a mere few days.

"Fine," he said curtly, "I'll take you seriously. But before we continue, there is something you need to hear."

Zalas was already prepared for the guarded look that appeared on Circe's face at his ominous words.

"What is it?"

"It's time you heard the full story," Zalas said grimly. "I suggest you make yourself comfortable, this could take some time."

*