Koun, appearing before them in all his confident glory, merely laughed as Iliana nearly jumped out of her skin. Her only saving grace was that she wasn't alone--Callias had been just as startled as her.

"You've been having such pleasant thoughts while calling me," Koun mused. At Iliana's knitted brow, he tapped the base of his throat. "The fox."

Shit. Did he hear everything she thought while holding it? Including the whole strangling thing? Iliana dropped the fox. Immediately, the lavender and blue strings disappeared, leaving only the red in their wake.

Callias--the gentleman he was--slipped into a bow. "Lord Koun, I--"

The god waved him off.

"No thanks, and no formal greetings. I've no patience for them at the moment."

"...if that's your wish."

He straightened and Iliana had to cover her mouth to hide her amusement. As annoying as the gods messing with her everything was, she couldn't help but feel grateful in that second for the insight it gave her. Had she not been bound to him, she never would have guessed that beneath Callias' even face was brooding irritation.

"It is," Koun confirmed. His unsettling, golden eyes shifted between them, as if searching for something, before his gaze returned to Iliana. "Did you pull him here?"

"You tell me," Iliana snarked.

That familiar tinge of wary fear slipped down her spine as Koun quirked a brow, but thankfully he didn't call her out on her attitude. Instead, he sighed, before his fingers through the air, and staring at something only he could see. "I had intended to."

He released the unseen, before bending over to grasp the triskele's string of fate. The second it was clasped in his palm, the other threads reappeared. Callias' instant tension told her that--this time, at least--she wasn't alone in her sudden ability to see the gods' power.

Koun brushed the strings with his thumb. A golden glow overtook them as he pried each individual thread just far enough that they could be distinguished for just a moment.

"As you may have guessed, this power--" His free hand ran along the length of the sea-blue thread. "--belongs to Umae. It is what remains of what came before. Without it, when the girl perished, so would have the Moon."

She stared. "Do you have to be so fucking cryptic? Is it like...a job requirement for gods?"

"Iliana."

Koun chuckled. "I do not mind her, Little Moon. In fact, I find her lack of self-preservation to be refreshing."

Oh.

Somehow, that was more disconcerting than his previous warnings, if she were being honest.

"As I was saying...this thread is what remains of the bond Umae created when entrusting you with his gift. As Aion is so fond of repeating, however, magic has a mind of its own. What he meant as a simple reassurance of each other's life and location, turned into a binding between souls. So, when one side perished, it threatened to destroy the other."

At her side, Callias had gone stiff and still. If she hadn't been privy to his mind, Iliana might have thought it because he was distracted by Koun's words.

But, that wasn't it.

He was caught in a heavy flood of emotion so deep it felt like he might drown. It was grief, guilt, anger, love and abandonment and so much more. Everything he had been muffling behind an alcohol driven haze that Koun's words threatened to dissipate.

Gods, she hadn't been mistaken back when Iliana had been clueless who his charm belonged to. Callias felt too much. And it had all been for Melitta.

Ignorant, or perhaps simply ignoring, their mental struggle, Koun continued his explanation. His finger brushed the violet, next. "When that happened, as you know, Aion was forced to sever the binding. Something like that can't be left empty and alone, however. All power must be balanced. Just as the sun greets the moon, a bond of souls requires two souls. And at the time, in that moment of emergency, the only available connection for the power to latch onto was this--" he brushed the red thread, "--fate itself."

Her mind stuttered.

"What does that mean, exactly?" Callias asked. His voice felt muffled, a million miles away as the answer flooded Iliana's ears even before it left Koun's lips.

"You two have become impossibly bound," Koun explained. "Due to our oversight, your lives will become dependent on one-another."

"If one of us dies..." she whispered.

"You both will."

Dream or not--Iliana was going to be sick.

"And that is merely what already existed, I'm afraid," Koun continued.

Her heart filled her ears as he gave a small tug on the threads. Like when Iliana held them before, the entire path suddenly lit up. His eyes seemed caught by something, so she followed his gaze towards the white beyond. And, as she stared at where the silhouette would have appeared if she bothered to follow the path, Iliana realized that somewhere along the line, there were no longer three strings.

She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment it happened, but, somewhere, somehow, they combined into a singular thread of the deepest, royal violet.

Had it appeared like that before, when she was looking prior to Koun's arrival?

"Magic grows. Especially magic fed by so many gods,"

"You're referring to how we can feel one another," Callias stated.

His words tugged on her mind like an anchor--leaving her with the somewhat comforting realization that she wasn't alone in her shock. In her fear. It felt like two bundles echoing in her gut--one familiar, one foreign--but, no weaker.

"How you can feel one another, yes," Koun echoed. He paused, as if hestating, before plunging forward. "And how you're sharing a dream that should only exist on a single side of the bond. I imagine you could even touch if you wanted. This is a space of souls, afterall, and yours are--in a manner--one."

Neither of them made a move to test the theory.

Koun clicked his tongue. "I'm not sure what else will come from this, what further discoveries you will make as time progresses and the magic settles. But, I thought you should be aware of this much, at least."

"How can you not know?" Iliana demanded. "You're the god of fortune! You know everything about the future."

His expression turned wry. "I'm afraid, where fate tangles, even gods find themselves lost."

And before she could demand any further explanation, Koun disappeared.

Anger surged up her spine as curses, each more colorful than the last, reached her tongue. Callias pursed his lips, wary caution reverberating between them as he reached for her arm. "Iliana, calm--"

The dream shattered with a thud.

Iliana jolted up, sending a tangled mass of covers tumbling from her chest as two shadowed figures surged through the tower door. Her tension shifted into fear the second recognition struck.

"Del!"

She scrambled from the mattress just as the guard reached the center of her room. Aria appeared in the doorway, her eyes shifting over first Iliana, then the open space. "Put him on the bed."

Iliana ran for the sewing kit as the uncomfortably familiar sound of Del being dumped onto the covers touched her ears. The guard immediately spun about and debarted, leaving only Aria lingering just inside the room. Iliana ignored her in favor of darting back to his side.

It wasn't the worst she'd seen him.

New bruises framed his temple and neck. A dried bite wound caked the skin just above his collar bone. Unlike the collection of scars Iliana had begun to gather along her wrist, there were no distinct puncture wounds, but instead just a bloody mass of scabbed skin.

His crimson-drenched, torn dress-shirt was the biggest cause for concern. Ignoring the sound of approaching footsteps, Iliana seized a pair of scissors and cut him free. In a critical manner that shouldn't have felt as familiar as it did, she scrutinized his clean chest, before realizing she'd overlooked a detail. The majority of the blood had soaked the fabric on his shoulders and sides, not his front. It's from his back.

"I'll roll him."

Without pausing to think, Iliana spun around, scissors in the air between them. "You touch him, and you'll regret it."

Aria merely sighed, hands raised innocently. "Do you think you can easily shift someone of his size without injuring him further, Milady?"

"I'll manage."

She lifted a brow, but didn't protest. Instead, she dropped her hands and stepped back. "As you wish."

Turning back to Del, Iliana placed the scissors next to him on the bed. After checking that he was still breathing, she braced herself, then eased him onto his stomach. It wasn't difficult--no matter what Aria thought, Iliana wasn't some court lady. She was a sailor with years of manual labor under her belt. She could handle one prince.

His back was a mess of criss-crossing, bloody gashes cut through shredded fabric. For a moment, she wasted precious seconds simply staring. She'd seen Callias and Lykos' markings, the layers of mutilated skin healed into overlapping scar tissue, but...it was different seeing it fresh and in person on a clean back where each mark was still distinct enough to leave a new, distinct trail.

It hurt. Gods, it hurt. But, staring accomplished nothing. Nor did breaking down over a matter she couldn't alter.

So, she worked.

The scissors were put to work again, before the cloth for her washing basin was used to clean his back. She stitched what wouldn't close on its own and bandaged the rest. He stirred once or twice--likely from the pain--but, it wasn't long enough for him to open his eyes, let alone speak.

At some point, Aria departed. Why she'd bothered to linger in the first place, Iliana had no idea. Guilt, perhaps. Or maybe an order to make sure that he didn't die without Aatami's care. Whatever it was, her absence made it easier to breathe as Iliana settled on the edge of the bed and watched the slow rise, and fall, of Del's back.

As long as he was breathing, so could she.

Two months, she reminded herself. We just have to last two months.

Whatever it took, she'd make sure they survived.

┈♔◦𓇣◦☽◦❤◦☾◦𓇣◦♔┈

Del finally, truly woke around daybreak. At least, that was when she was jolted from her nightmares to warm arms and a somewhat familiar chest.

She blinked open her sleep-bleary eyes, merely studying him as Del took a step, before depositing her back on the bed. He reached for the blanket, tugging it up to her chest, before freezing as his gaze met hers. Wryness curled his lips.

"Before you complain about my carrying you, you were sleeping on my legs...so I think you'll find this less embarrassing, really."

Heat surged from her neck to her ears. Del grinned.

"Don't worry. It was cute."

If it were possible for sirens to spontaneously combust, Iliana would have likely done so at that moment. Instead, however, she dragged the blanket over her head in an attempt to hide her blazing face. He laughed and pat her legs, before the sound of him moving away touched her ears. Concern won out over embarrassment as she lowered the blanket to watch as he stepped from the bed.

"You shouldn't be standing," she grumbled.

It didn't take a genius to guess that the sallow edge to his dark skin was from the strain of his injuries atop of blood loss.

He quirked a brow. "That almost sounds like another invitation to join you."

Something unfamiliar unfurled in her chest and--on impulse--Iliana scooted over beneath the blanket. Then, before she could second guess herself, she flipped it back. "It is."

Del stilled as her heart drummed an erratic beat. Then, slowly, the tension slid from his shoulders as he stepped back over. His knee pressed into the mattress. "You know...I can't exactly lay on my back right now."

"I know."

He studied her a moment, before settling down next to her. Unlike every time prior where they had occupied distinctly separate, shadowed spaces on the bed, Del laid clearly visible with his chest towards her. His elbow dug into the mattress as his cheek settled against the length of his palm.

"Happy?"

She bit her lip. "Somewhat."

Were they not going to talk about the day before? About why he'd returned in one of the worst states she'd seen him, but was now acting as if nothing were wrong and he wasn't in pain? About how Zuher had dragged him from the ballroom due to the events in Sol?

"Oh? Is there something else I could do, then, to raise your mood?"

It seemed they weren't.

"Not strain yourself?" Iliana complained.

Del watched her, as if weighing the request. His light mood never appeared to fade, but she'd grown familiar enough with his face to recognize the faintest pursing of his lips alongside the tension in his smile.

"It isn't a strain to carry a pretty woman to bed," he quipped.

That familiar urge to bury herself beneath the blankets, to hide the responding, increasing flush from her cheeks, surged through her. But, so did the memory of his blooded back. Of the fears that had flashed through her mind all night.

So, she didn't hide.

Instead, she snorted. "That same 'pretty woman' spent an hour caring for those wounds you're so easily ignoring. I believe the best way to be grateful for that is to avoid reopening them."

"Duly noted." He hesitated, then smirked. "So, you aren't going to protest the compliment, then?"

"Would it do me any good?" she countered.

"No, but that's never stopped you before. Careful, or I might think you're softening towards me."

She bit her lip, fingers curling into the blanket as if it could ease the sudden awareness that laced her veins. A line laid between them, as comforting as it was suffocating. It would be so easy to leave it there--to watch Del toe the edge with teasing words and smiles, but never cross it. Because, he wouldn't. He'd warned her of its existence since the beginning. They were to be friends, allies, but nothing else because his life laid at the feet of a madman.

But...wasn't that just as strong a reason to cross it?

Iliana rolled to face him. "And if I am?"

His chest stilled. The small space between them, no more than a foot, charged as slow seconds passed in silence. She resisted the urge to look away as his eyes swept over her with a slow, measuring pace. It was a familiar sensation, but somehow different. At some point, perhaps an hour, or a minute, later, his gaze on her burning face.

"I'd warn you to rethink it."

She'd expected that reaction, but it still hurt.

Because, in the end, it wasn't a rejection. It was caution. Warning. A shield he'd worn since the second they met.

"You think I haven't?"

His gaze narrowed. "Iliana--"

"There are a lot of things I don't think about, Del. Ones I should. But, things like this, like...trust, I overthink until I find some reason to back away. I doubt there is an excuse you could give me that I haven't already considered."

Again, she felt as if she were being measured. And, again, she didn't back down. Something about the wariness, his lack of true rejection, drug up that stubborn vein that always spurred her instinctive impulses.

"I trust you."

I like you.

"I told you not to."

"I know."

"I'm likely the worst person you could pick."

Her lips quirked. "We're in Chuteros, Del. There are an abundance of worse people."

"I--"

"And even if there weren't, I would pick you. I...trust you in spite of the circumstances, not because of them."

It was close enough to the truth for her. Had they not been trapped in this tower, it would have taken longer. She would have been more stubborn, more...clueless. But, that wouldn't have changed who he was. Or, who she was. Perhaps it was naive of her, but...she thought they might have reached this point regardless.

She might have reached for him--punctuated her words with some sort of reassurance, but there was the sensation of standing on the edge of a fractured cliff. As if the wrong move would send him plunging out of reach. So, she stayed still, and waited, as thoughts twirled behind his guarded gaze.

Then, eventually, his eyes dropped away from her. He pulled his head from his palm as his other hand came around to brush the tattoo-like markings over his ring finger in that familiar gesture. What she hadn't expected, however, was the briefest flare of gold in her mind as the tattoo moved. Shock settled in her gut as Del pulled the ink--now metal--from his finger.

His hand reached between them, palm up. Cautiously, Iliana took it.

It weighed more than she'd expected. With a heavy, enchanted gold aura that told her just how much magic had been packed into the simple, unsettlingly familiar design. At the center of the ring's flat face lay a deep, dark blue diamond encircled by serpents eating their own tails.

"This is what Zuher wants from me."

It was his signet ring.

"The only reason I live, Iliana, is that magic keeps him from removing it by force. If I die wearing it, then it perishes to deeper waters."

Her eyes slipped back to his hand. As if he hadn't removed the ring, the intricate ruins still encircled his finger.

"Why does he need it?" Why are you telling me this? Why now?

"You've heard of Cieon's defenses, haven't you?"

Vague stories brushed the back of her mind--rumors of how Reotak couldn't take Cieon by sea because of Umae's favor. Any attempts resulted in the destruction of battalions by storms and nightmares.

Suddenly, she felt as if she were holding an anchor. "The ring controls that?"

Could Zuher invade if he held it?

"Among many things," Del agreed. "Poison protection, enhanced healing, luck at sea. There's a reason those in the main family are warned to never remove them. But, in regard to the defenses...magic cannot be left to make its own choices. Those who the ring bearers regard as enemies, those who wish us and ours harm, cannot sail our coastline. Our signet rings are the blessing he provided us in return for our piety back when Cieon was first founded, akin to the different, but still powerful magic he provided the Nubellan royalty. Umae has always rewarded those who follow him."

His words stirred something in the back of her head--a memory she couldn't touch--as she held the ring out for him to take back. He didn't.

"If it's why you're still alive, you should put it back on," Iliana prompted him.

He smiled. "Zuher has no way of knowing whether I bear it or not. That tattoo was bound to my finger long before my father trusted me with the future of the kingdom."

"Still--"

"You should keep it."

Wasps tangled in her stomach. "What?"

Del tapped the base of his throat. "I've seen you holding something there on occasion. You've an enchanted amulet, do you not? Thread it onto whatever holds that together. From what I know of magic, that should be enough to keep it hidden."

"I can't--"

"It's all I can offer you, Iliana. With that, there isn't a single, loyal subject of Cieon who would turn you away."

His hand dropped back to hers, curling her fingers shut over the ring, before he pulled away. His feet swung off the bed.

"Keep it safe, won't you?"

And with those words--ones that lacked a rejection, but also anything near acceptance as well--Del stood up.

That line between them clogged her throat as Iliana, too, sat up. Then, silent as death, she pulled Koun's necklace off to thread the ring onto it as Del requested.

Within the minute, she had the weight of a kingdom settled against the base of her neck.

It was cold. 

A/N: Two updates in a week? Can you believe it? ;) 

Well, everyone, time for that every few dozen chapters question that I like to pose. 

Any ships?