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The Coven Complete	By : KaoruEle Category: A through F > The Black Jewel Trilogy Views: 1918 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Black Jewel Trilogy book series. They are the property of Anne Bishop. I do not make any money from this story .

Chapter List
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- 4
Disclaimer: I do not own the book that this fanfiction is for, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
[Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine save for Ashira. Here are a couple things I'm aware of: First, I know that Morton is not a warlord prince, but I've chosen to make him one in my fanfic. Second, I'm aware that Ashira is something of a Sue, but I'm really rather happy with the backstory that I created for her. It will be revealed later in further chapters. However, I won't be offended if you choose not to read more. C'est la vie. Otherwise, I hope that you enjoy!]
“Wake sleepy head.” someone was prodding Morton’s backside. He opened his eye a crack and saw the pale light of dawn.
“Later,” he groaned, “it’s too early.” He reached for Ashira beneath the blankets and did not find her.
“Looking for something?” she jumped on him, laughing.
“You are not supposed to be there,” he pulled her down beside him, “you’re supposed to be here.”
“It’s time for training Morton.” Her blue eyes were twinkling with mischief. “Should I fetch Lucivar and tell him you are too tired?”
He did not answer her. The smile that sparkled in her eyes made him tingle. “How did you sleep sweet one?”
She smiled again. “I don’t think I have ever had a more pleasant night. Truthfully.” She frowned then, and Morton felt himself swept toward the killing edge.
“What is it?” he asked softly, pushing himself to his elbows.
“I am sorry for last night.” She whispered, “I hurt you.”
“Do not be sorry. I was clumsy last night, I frightened you. It will never happen again. Now we understand each other, mostly.” He was rewarded by her smile, and the coldness in him was swept away again.
“Now tell me truly, do you mean to send me down to the practice yard?”
“I do.” She climbed over him. He stopped her, holding her on top of him for a moment, relishing the feel of her body beside his. He held her there briefly then let her go, all the while fighting to control himself.
“All right,” he grumbled, “I’ll go.”
“I’m coming with you prince. I need to practice as well.”
Just that quickly, Morton was near the killing edge again, redness swimming before his eyes at the very thought of her in battle. “You can’t practice, it’s your moontime.”
“That means nothing. I practice every day.”
“No.”
“What?”
“I won’t let you.” He raked his fingers through his hair, “Damn it, don’t you understand? It hurts you. You can’t.”
“Enough Morton,” she drew herself up, her eyes cold and hard, “I told you last night, there will always be pain in my life. When Jaenelle needs me, she needs me, moontime or no. I must always be ready.” She left the room.
Morton dressed in silence and followed her to the practice yard. When he got there, Ashira was facing off against one of the males Lucivar had just recruited. She held a staff, the male held a practice sword. The male swung reluctantly, not even trying to make contact. Still, his swings brought Morton to the killing edge. He fought his rage, trying to watch objectively. Fighting to remember this was practice.
The male finally dropped his sword, snarling, “I won’t fight you, lady.” He looked at Morton fearfully.
“Fine!” Ashira spun, seeking another opponent. None of the males in the yard would meet her eyes.
“Come with me whelp.” Lucivar reached for her elbow. “We’re taking a walk.” He dragged her away from the practice yard.
“What is it Lucivar? Why won’t they practice with me?” her voice was cold and angry.
“It’s your moontime. They know it.”
“So?”
“They know you are weak, and they can’t bear the idea that they might hurt you. I think Morton standing there glowering, on the killing edge no less, has something to do with it too.”
They walked in silence for a long time. Lucivar felt Ashira’s anger flow around him, but it wasn’t cold, and he did not fear.
Finally, Ashira spoke in a quiet voice. “Do you remember me helping Jaenelle heal you?” Lucivar shivered at the anger and darkness in her voice, she was like Jaenelle in many ways.
“I remember.”
“My moontime did not matter then.”
He looked at her, startled. She and Jeanelle both had used tremendous amounts of power to heal him.
“Can you say with certainty that Jaenelle will not need me again during my moontime?”
“It doesn’t hurt you?”
Ashira looked at him incredulously, finally rolling her eyes. “No, it does not hurt.”
Lucivar chuckled, embarrassed, “All right, all right, that was a stupid question.”
Ashira smiled softly, “Aye, it was. You know it hurts Lucivar, but I do what I must, pain or no. You do the same, do you not?”
“I do.” He remembered the ring of obedience and the pain. He studied her, she was young, three years younger than Jaenelle. He could not imagine the pain she must have borne in her short life.
“Then you understand, I must practice everyday. I must keep my skills honed and I must be ready to help Jaenelle when she needs me.” The air around them grew colder still. Lucivar realized that she was lost still, in her memories.
“I understand. But I can’t let you practice in the yard during your moontime, Morton will kill someone. But I’ll practice with you in the garden, if that would be acceptable.” He wanted to draw her into his arms, to comfort her, but he knew his closeness was not welcome.
“And you’ll actually fight?” she eyed him skeptically.
“I’ll take your head off.” He promised.
“We’ll see prince.” She smiled and the coldness dissipated. “When will you come?”
“After breakfast, agreed?”
“Agreed.” She turned to go and noticed Morton, sitting rather dejectedly on a stool. She shook her head, “Poor Morton, he tried to tell me.”
“Stub your toe.” Lucivar suggested.
“That will help?”
Lucivar nodded, “Let him fuss over you, he’ll appreciate it.”
Ashira nodded, not taking her eyes from Morton. He was rather handsome.
Lucivar smiled, noticing her distraction. “Go on whelp, he needs you.”
Morton saw Ashira walking purposely towards him, her face a cold mask of anger. He straightened, getting ready to fight with her, whatever it took to get her out of the practice yard.
When she was only a few steps away from him she tripped, turning her ankle and nearly falling. He reached for her, catching her before she fell to the ground.
“Oh!” she cried out in pain.
My lady, are you hurt?”
“My ankle,” she winced.
“Come,” he carried her out of the yard and into the garden “I’ll take you to Karla. She’ll see to your ankle.”
“Actually, I think I’d rather have breakfast.”
“You’re hurt.”
“Nothing serious, I think I should just stay off of it for an hour or so.”
He looked into her eyes, smiling softly, if she had been in pain from her ankle he would have known. “As you wish, lady.”
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The Coven Complete