Page 73 of Boundless
His eyes fluttered open, dazed and unseeing, before locking on her face and filling with tears. "Daega?"
She crushed him to her, her knees going weak with relief. Her father caught her, easing her to the floor and crying right along with her, kissing her forehead and Len's as Len eased himself from the cradle of her arms to throw his own arms around her neck in a fierce hug.
They clung to each other desperately, uncaring of the audience they had, Daega whispering frantically in his ear as she took deep breaths of his scent. He was dirty and smelled of sour milk, but under that was the sunshine and strawberries she'd been aching for for far too many days.
"What happened?" she asked when they finally parted, her hands roving over his body, checking for hidden injuries.
Len's eyes filled, throat bobbing when he swallowed. "I—I think it was a heart attack," he said, biting his lip. "H-he got so worked up t-talking to me, shouting in my f-face, and then he—he just collapsed." She knew him well enough to know he was hiding something, but she let it go for now. He'd have a good reason for it. "I m-must have gotten my heart problem from him a-after all," he added, a strange flush staining his cheeks. The guard who'd given him a rude look earlier snarled and protested.
"There was nothing wrong with the king's heart, you weak little piss stain," the elf spat, fighting against his bonds. "You killed him, you or your bitch wife—"
Quick as an asp, Tesse's hand whipped out and struck the furious guard across the mouth so hard that spit and blood flew in an arc and he crumpled to the ground. "Dirty animal," she sneered, spitting onto the ground near his head. "He forgets he speaks to the queen of the elves, now."
Daega's stomach lurched uncomfortably, horror freezing the blood in her veins. Bloody gods—with Haedelon dead, that meant Len was the king, which did, in fact, make her queen. And her wee bairn wasthecrown fucking prince, now. She was glad she was already sitting on the floor; she'd've made fast friends with it otherwise.
A wet sniffle brought her attention up to a surprisingly emotional Fenris, who was watching her and Len with an aching yearning that made her own chest clench in sympathy. "It's so good to see you again," he rasped, leaning into Aevel when the younger elf began rubbing his chest soothingly.
"So...what now?" They'd been down in the dungeons for a long time, and no one seemed especially eager to move on. "What do we need to do next?" Daega pressed, still cuddling Len close.
"We should g-get Raiya. The head healer." Len offered softly, swiping at his cheek with the heel of his hand. "And th-then assemble the council."
"I'll get her, Your Majesty," Rodrick said with a stiff nod, easing out from under Fenris' arm and spinning on his heel. Her father took his place, helping Fenris stay on his feet and murmuring something that made Fenris weep.
Rodrick wasn't gone for very long, but it felt like ages, the lot of them huddled in the filthy dungeon corridor waiting for bedlam to break out and bring their peace crashing down around their ears. Every little noise made Daega twitch and stiffen, dread filling her by agonizing degrees.
Daega recognized the older elf female who hurried at Rodrick's side as the kind one who'd helped Sevren after he was poisoned; she liked this one, this Raiya, and was glad it was her seeing to things.
"My prince!" she exclaimed, rushing to their side, "My lady!"
Daega didn't bother correcting her. She let Len do all the talking. "Healer R-Raiya," he began, easing from the cage of Daega's arms and getting to his feet. "Something t-terrible ha-has happened." The woman paled, her hazel eyes darting over the chamber. She took in the unconscious guards, now also bound and gagged, took in the three Istarii Drakan in full battle gear, took in the state of Len and Fenris, and seemed to come to a conclusion she rather disliked. Her back stiffened, her mouth tightening.
But she managed a little smile for Len. "Yes, it certainly seems so, dear boy. Where do you need me first?" She lifted her chin, determination plain on her creased face.
Len nodded, his shoulders dropping just a little. "This way," he told her, leading her into the interrogation room where the late king still lay. Daega stood, crossing her arms and trying not to pry too much into what was being said in the other room, every fiber of her being straining to go back to Len, to scoop him up and never let him go ever again.
Her husband and the head healer had a short, murmuring conversation before rejoining them. "Yes, these things usually are genetic," she was saying as they stepped out of the room. "And you never showed any signs of an issue until it was already upon you. It must have just taken longer in your father." She went to Fenris, smiling at him warmly. "Can I examine you, deary? You look quite the worse for wear, I'm sad to say."
Fenris nodded, his eyes glassy, and Daega returned to Len's side. She had dozens of questions, so many things about what was happening in this damned dungeon utterly inscrutable to her, but some instinct told her to tamp them all down for now. Len was up to something, and she sensed it was important he do it, so she contented herself with taking his hand and squeezing it tight. He looked up at her, eyes bright and shining in the dim light, and leaned into her side with a quiet sigh.
By the time Raiya was done with Fenris he was looking much better, and was even managing to stand on his own, allowing Rodrick and Aevel to help with their next task: bringing the two bound guards and the body of the king up into the castle. Everyone had argued that the guards should be locked up, tucked into a cell for safekeeping, but Len had insisted they be brought to the infirmary, though covered with cloaks so that no one would recognize them. Daega's father was the one to carry the king's body, and despite all their animosity, the huge Istarii Drakan had lifted the body with his unerring gentleness, the elf looking like a tiny little doll in the warlord's arms. He'd been such a monster, too big to deal with in life, that seeing him reduced this way was...troubling. Unsettling.
They made a scene when they stepped into the castle's upper floors, staff shrieking and fainting at the sight of their king dead—for Haedelon had been left uncovered—and their prince in such a state. But Rodrick and Aevel kept them at bay, Fenris helping as much as he could, and they managed to make it to the infirmary without too much incident.
"Sweet Delenaa, I hope you have a plan for all this, son," Kevothaen groused as he set Haedelon's body on the cot Raiya indicated. She began preparing him for burial without preamble, erecting a screen to preserve the late king's modesty. "It seems a bit of a mess, now."
Len smiled weakly, helping himself to some of the medical supplies and going to Fenris to finish sorting him out. "I c-can't disagree, Da," he allowed, dabbing at a cut on Fenris' cheek with something that smelled astringent. "But I...I am trying to—to progress things as they need to b-be progressed."
Once Fenris was cleaned up Daega took the supplies from Len's thin, trembling hands and sat him on the counter, determined to care for him herself, now. "Dae..." he protested weakly, but she silenced him with a gentle kiss, mindful of his split lip.
"Hush, pet," she murmured, swiping the wound cleaner over his pale skin. "Let me do this. Please."
He gave her a shaky smile, cupping the side of her face briefly, before giving in and letting her make a fuss. She was furious at the bruises mottling his tender skin, at the angry scrapes and scratches. Several looked like they were on the way to being infected, and Daega ached for her sweet husband. How could they have done this to him, their own crown prince? Well—king, now.
Once Raiya finished preparing Haedelon's body, the council was summoned and informed of the terrible news. From there the queen reagent was brought in, several record-keepers, and other officials Daega didn't bother paying attention to. Len was given a speech to memorize, and directions for the swearing-in ceremony that would follow the public announcement of the king's passing the following morning. Staff were ordered to drape the castle in funerary black, and guards were summoned to find runners to assemble the subjects for the following morning.
It was a whirlwind, and by the time the last person had left, they were both bone-tired and weaving on their feet. Tesse and her father retired to the guest quarters they'd had previously, and the bound guards were given over to Rodrick and Aevel, both grim-faced but determined after a hushed conversation with Len. Then, at long last, she was able to grab him and haul him with her to his old bedroom.
As soon as the door was shut she scooped him up in a bridal carry and made her way to the bathroom. Len was too tired to protest, his slim body burrowing close against her chest. She held him, humming soothingly while she drew him a nice warm bath. He was quiet in her arms, a fact which made her nervous, but she couldn't blame him for it.
