The Misplaced Prince[COMPLETE]

Walk of Doom

A soft touch was idly caressing his forehead, moving down to his lips. There was a sharp bite to it, like the edge of a broken nail, but he couldn't move out of its way. It plucked at his lip, drawing it out until the tension was almost painful, and then replaced the sharpness with something suckling warm, a hurtful kiss--

Consciousness came to him like an unwelcome slap. He sat up, gasping in shock, darkness leaving him like a ripped glove. A soft body draped over him, clinging around his neck. He hunched over himself, taking a deep, gulping breath, the searing pain in his chest abating. When he was able, he looked around, taking in of his absurd surroundings.

He was lying on the most ridiculously luxurious bed, with surroundings that were all gilt and silk and threads made from gold. It seemed like a brothel, only infinitely regal. To complete the image of decadence was the beautiful woman clad in green gauze draped over him, caressing him with a wicked smile. He stiffened, turning his face away when she made to kiss him again. "Who the hell are you?" he grunted, his voice smooth as sandpaper.

"Nymra..." her voice was a breathy, sly whisper, "I am to be your personal healer...amongst other things." She leaned forward again. There was something odd about her--flashes of sharp teeth and an inhuman grace. The hair cascading down her back was stark black, but instead of the usual brown or auburn, it glinted with hints of green. She was mesmerizing and obviously expected his instant slavish admiration, but he found himself unmoved.

Joshua put his hand between them, gently but firmly pushing her away.

"When it's a cold day in hell." He ripped off the thick red blanket that had been covering him, and made to get up. His head lurched.

"Easy, now." A man's drawled, coming closer, "The sleeping drought is hard to shake off. Don't make any sudden movements."

Joshua squinted towards the voice. The silk curtains had been drawn aside, and a man approached, watching Joshua with the air of a resting tiger.

"You." Joshua hissed, "You tried to kill Kasey."

"I tried to make you believe I was killing her." the man said easily, "There's a difference."

"Your bloody sword was inches from her neck!"

"Not quite that close, it wasn't. I'm not a magician, after all, but perhaps you don't know that."

"Who are you?" Joshua snarled.

Shrader tilted his head, saying reflectively, "A human."

"A deliciouss human." Nymra hissed secretively to Joshua, languishing beside him with overt proprietary.

Shrader did not look at her as he said idly, "What brings you here, Fae?"

"I was anointed by Healer Jamie to administer his waking drought." she said, her voice deceptively innocent, "And to give him anything he desires..." she drew out her word like a suggestive hiss, drawing her feet over Joshua's leg.

"Anointed." Shrader repeated.

"Alright, I volunteered." she threw up her hands, the nails filed to a point.  She reached forward with a sharp fingernail to trail his neck. Joshua pulled away. "Such deliciousness, Shrader. One must lay compliments where they are due."

"I think you've said enough." Shrader murmured, "Now leave."

"Don't be a spoilsport...Maybe you could join us? I don't think I've ever had a combination of--"

"Now."

She was sly, but clearly not willing to cross the Knight. She slid towards the door, casting a look from beneath her lashes at the knight, "You do realize where I was supposed to take him, don't you?"