Assessment

Zha'haarak woke gently, stretching drowsily as a soft, deeply furred tail stroked slowly down his back, and rolled over and smiled up at his Saiyan, golden eyes half-closed. Hijau stared down, his expression almost frighteningly intense: the zn'hre frowned.
      **Zk'vissin?**
      The Saiyan blinked and shook himself - then moved to lie between the prince's thighs almost too quickly for Zha'haarak to see, and sank himself into his bondmate's cool body, shifting forcefully as the zn'hre whimpered and wrapped long legs over his hips.
      They came together, hard and quickly, and the young officer lowered himself to lie beside his lover, holding him close, one warm hand teasing the long, soft, emerald hair. Zha'haarak sighed and pressed a cool, loving kiss to the corner of his mouth.
      **Hi'ijaa… I love you…**
      The Saiyan drew a deep breath and nuzzled the zn'hre's slender neck.
      *I have to go… I'll be late for duty…*
      Zha'haarak nodded.
      **Might I join you for the midday meal?**
      Hijau blinked, then frowned.
      *Uh… why?*
      **You are the Captain of the Elite Guard, now. I'm - interested to meet your colleagues. Unless you think it inappropriate…**
      Hijau tugged on a lock of his mane, pensively.
      *I don't know. I'd planned to eat in the messhall today. If you join me you'll attract a lot of attention… Then again,* he grinned *if the R'ren'nkh'ian contingent intend bringing their 'partners' with them the Guard will have to get used to the idea anyway.* He chuckled. *As will the rest of the military. Well, if you think you can cope with the stares, I'd love to have your company.*
      Zha'haarak licked the Saiyan's ear, making him shiver delightedly.
      **Then I will come to your office at - a little before noon?**
      Hijau nodded.
      *I'll look forward to it…*

It was three days after their return to Vejiitasei. Mahrayne was still with Kelapa on Pankuzu, the children had settled back into their lesson routine (not without a great deal of reluctance, growled objections and general grouchiness), Zha'haabron was in council for a large part of each day, and Leteetza had found that Jeice hated the room in the library and wanted to spend time outdoors, preferably in the wood on the outskirts of the city - which required Radittsu to accompany the pair of them. Which left Ti'aasaan and Zha'haarak to care for the new hostlings.
      Not that they were complaining. Ra'vahn and Za'rayne were positively delightful, curious, affectionate, sweet-natured… Looking after them was a pleasure.
      Hijau, however, was a little apprehensive, although he'd kept his concerns to himself so far. The little hybrids had the potential to become extraordinarily powerful - with an Elite sire and a host whose ki went so far beyond anything on Vejiitasei they had no way to quantify it, this was hardly surprising - and they absolutely had to learn control from the earliest age possible. Hijau wasn't sure Radittsu had realised this yet: the big male was simply in love with his children, so proud of them and his bondmate that he just couldn't see further than their beauty - and the fact that they were here, that they existed after all the agony that went into their creation…
      The young officer sighed. Perhaps he'd better speak to Zha'haabron. The king was altogether more level-headed than Rad-chan where emotional matters were concerned.

The council were half-way through a discussion about the next few worlds to be considered for membership in the Empire when Manzano appeared at the door to the conference chamber. Vejiita glowered at him.
      "This had better be important."
      Manzano bowed his head.
      "I believe it is, Sire. Can you accompany me to corps headquarters?"
      Growling under his breath, the Saiya-jin-no-Ou handed the meeting over to the High King and followed his chief diplomat from the palace.
      Manzano insisted - very quietly, very courteously - that they walk, which allowed him time to tell the king why his presence was required. Vejiita listened incredulously, then snorted. Moments later he was image to image with Marldus: the Lead Speaker bowed his head apologetically.
      "I do regret having to cause you to leave your council, your Majesty. However, I'm sure you will understand that in the case of such a grievance, it is by far better to resolve the issue as quickly as possible…"
      Vejiita raised a hand. No need to let the old male know, right now, that he already knew what the 'problem' was.
      "I agree. Please explain the issue."
      Marldus' eyes flickered to one side: the Saiyan deduced that Astolan was in the chamber with the Lead Speaker. He swallowed his annoyance and inclined his head politely. Marldus sighed, almost silently.
      "It appears that, while he was onworld, your Guardsman Zorun attacked and threatened the father of your Majesty's tutor."
      "Indeed? And why would he do that?"
      "It appears that there was an unfortunate… misunderstanding about Mahrayne's unborn child."
      Vejiita nodded, his face taking on that expression that, if only Marldus knew it, warned those around him he was rapidly losing his temper and it might be best if they left the vicinity, quickly.
      "If I've understood the situation correctly, Mahrayne's parents tried to force her to have her child killed. Zorun's child, the heir to one of our oldest aristocratic families. A future citizen of the Saiya-jin Empire. Under the circumstances my personal Guard's actions were perfectly understandable - and legitimate. We do not murder our children."
      Marldus nodded, looking distinctly uneasy. Vejiita could hear someone - Astolan he assumed - spluttering angrily in the background.
      "Ah, yes, your Majesty. Of course, our two peoples have different customs and traditions…"
      "If yours include murdering children, the future of your species, I am very glad our customs are not yours." He paused for a moment. "However, Zorun did act - precipitately. The matter should have been brought to the council's attention so that we could decide the appropriate action. Which," he added, smirking unpleasantly, "would most likely have been rather more severe than leaving one of your staff with a headache. I will, therefore, and if you will give your word that there will be no further such - attacks - on my people, any of my people, apologise on behalf of my Guard."
      Marldus blinked rapidly: the Saiya-jin-no-Ou could almost see his mind racing. Then he smiled, very faintly.
      "Indeed, your Majesty, I give you my word that there will be no repeats of any such - misunderstanding."
      A hastily stifled, outraged squawk came from somewhere in the Lead Speaker's room. Marldus tried not to smile. Vejiita, obviously not in Astolan's view, smirked.
      "Then I trust you will accept my apologies for my Guard's behaviour."
      Marldus bowed his head.
      "Thank you, your Majesty."
      Vejiita frowned.
      "Was there anything else?"
      "Nothing that will not wait until our scheduled comm-link meeting, your Majesty."
      "Then I will bid you good-day."
      "Farewell, your Majesty. And my apologies for interrupting affairs of state with this small personal matter."
      As the screen blanked, Vejiita snarled, hand fisting. Manzano looked alarmed.
      "Sire?"
      The king grinned ferally at the diplomat.
      "I shall have to have words with Zorun. The baka must be getting soft - he should have killed the skinny kusoyaro while he had the chance…"

Jeice was dancing.
      He was in rich, bright green today, loose trousers, a loose sleeveless top, and barefoot, relishing the moss against his skin as he spun and twisted in a gracefully stately 'forest' dance. Leteetza, Radittsu behind her, his arms around the little warrior's shoulders, perched on the rock to one side of the small clearing and watched. The Saiyans in the family were beginning to appreciate the little subo's skill, to understand - at least a little - the meaning of the dance.
      And Leteetza had learned a lot. The subos - she corrected herself, the hash'shavven: she'd started using Jeice's own name for his people and insisted everyone else do so too - definitely had some sort of race memory: Jeice had been able to give her a fairly detailed history of his people going back several thousand native years. Much of it had been of no particular interest; the hash'shavven were peaceful, living in harmony - the Greater Dance - with their world, forming close but ever-changing 'family' units of anything from three to thirty individuals, raising children communally. They'd practised a sort of selective breeding, the aim of which was to produce stronger and stronger 'talents' - but it wasn't compulsory. If the prospective parents didn't have an affinity with each other they weren't forced to breed.
      And they danced. All of them danced. Dance was the be-all and end-all of their lives; without it they pined and died. (Leteetza forced back a shudder, thanking the gods that the Omanir appreciated dance, encouraged it in their slaves.)
      Of course, 'dance' for the hash'shavven wasn't simply the rhythmic movement of their bodies. It involved their entire being, the emotions they picked up from everything around them - Jeice had implied that everything had feelings, even the rocks beneath them - their minds, their memories, their hopes and wishes and desires. It encompassed their individual talents, and found its best and greatest expression in the Hashavineni - which Leteetza finally managed to establish was a sort of dance festival held every ten or so years when the planet's seven moons were in the right positions, and when thousands of hash'shavven gathered together at the dancing-grounds to dance for days on end in a glorious celebration of life. There were competitions at the Hashavineni, too, when the strongest or most accomplished of the talents challenged each other to dances of skill. But most intriguing of all was their ability to join their talents together, to create magnificent displays as they danced…
      Leteetza, with Radittsu listening in, had tried to make sense of what Jeice was trying to describe. The little hash'shavven had become flustered and upset at his inability to explain what he meant, and had ended up trying to dance it for them, using his own talent to summon flames that licked and danced around him, flaring in time with his movements, flickering in his hair, from his fingers. Imagine, he'd said, hundreds of us together, our flames mingling and twining, different colours, different sizes, leaping for the sky, dancing with us as we dance together. Imagine the water talents, calling forth the waves, the rain, the rivers, to leap and flow around and through our fire as they dance with us. Imagine the weather talents, creating lightning to counterpoint the fire and water. Imagine…
      He'd stopped, grinning at their dazed expressions. He could feel they'd got the general idea…
      Jeice finished his dance, halting with his arms outstretched, eyes closed, face to the sky, a smile of sheer contentment on his face, and Leteetza called a halt for the day. For the next few days, actually - the hash'shavven was due to see Vinas and his team the following day, to have his old scars abraded and removed, as the Feeodoreean had promised.
      Later, as Leteetza organised her report, at her station in the library, she'd frowned to herself. The hash'shavven had only used their talents to create transitory displays of beauty. Imagine what they could do if they ever turned their skills to war.
      Vejiita was going to be impressed.

Ti'aasaan watched Zha'haarak tenderly cradling Za'rayne, and smiled to himself. He was pretty certain the gentle zn'hre had no idea he was gazing at the hostling with a look of complete adoration on his face.
      "Would you like your own?"
      Zha'haarak smiled gently.
      "Of course. But I don't know how Hi'ijaa would feel about it."
      "You could always try asking him…"
      Zha'haarak nodded absently, then glanced up as the children returned from their morning lessons. Reluctantly, the prince handed the little hybrid to Ti'aasaan.
      "I need to dress. I'm meeting Hi'ijaa for midday meal."
      The little zn'hre's eyebrows rose.
      "Then wear something - sombre. They're a randy lot, the Guard."
      Zha'haarak chuckled.
      "I know. Don't worry, I'll be careful."

Zha'haabron arrived back as Zha'haarak was leaving, soberly dressed in a full-length, plain black bodysuit and kneeboots, his hair caught loosely at the nape of his neck in a simple golden band, small gold and green studs in his ears. The king inspected him for a moment or two, then smiled and kissed him.
      "Classically beautiful. You do us proud."
      Eyes wide, blushing, Zha'haarak lowered his head.
      "Th… thank you, heart-brother."
      "Enjoy your meal."
      The gentle zn'hre nodded, beamed, and was gone. Zha'haabron dropped to stretch out on a floor cushion as his hostlings scurried over to him, climbing onto his chest and hissing happily as he tickled them with the end of his plait. Ti'aasaan laughed.
      "You, my love, can be amazingly cute when you try…"
      Zha'haabron smiled, then sighed.
      "Vejiita wants to spar this afternoon."
      Ti'aasaan nodded resignedly. It was frustrating for the king to train with the Saiya-jin-no-Ou - he had to keep a tight rein on himself to avoid causing serious harm - but no-one else onworld was powerful enough. Hijau had already grumbled about the number of incapacitated Guards he'd come home to: even taking on eight at a time had hardly proved a challenge for Vejiita, and left a number of warriors in the infirmary with serious injuries.
      "I think Leteetza and Radittsu were planning a training session for the children too. I know Jeice was going to give 'tiisaan a dance lesson, and 'viirel wants to practise his zth'ishihn." He grinned, glancing over at 'haabron and Kobis, twined together as usual as they shared a platter of raw meats. "And no doubt those two have something planned…"
      Zha'haabron smiled gently. Rather to his surprise, Vejiita hadn't seemed at all worried about his son's affection for the young zn'hre prince - but then again, with another, more powerful heir on the way, the king assumed the Saiya-jin-no-Ou would use the older children to cement relations with his allies. After all, that was why he hadn't objected to Radittsu's bonding with a zn'hre.
      But whatever the reason, the king was very pleased. There were no obvious obstacles to the young princes' happiness.

Kobis kissed the back of 'haabron's neck.
      "What shall we do this afternoon, koi?"
      'haabron sighed and wriggled a little closer to his friend.
      "What would you like to do?"
      "Well, we could go and train with the others…"
      "Would you like to?"
      "No."
      'haabron giggled quietly: the young Saiyan's erection was pressing into the small of his back.
      "You did say next time… Let's bathe. Then we can use one of the side rooms. If you'd like to, koi."
      Kobis sighed, shakily.
      "Can't think of anything I'd rather do…"
      The young zn'hre caught his sire's eye.
      "Papa…"
      "Yes, precious." It wasn't a question. 'haabron blinked.
      "Umm, but I haven't asked anything yet…"
      Zha'haabron nestled Ra'vahn a little more comfortably in his arms and fed the infant a small piece of meat.
      "Yes, you have my permission to do as you wish this afternoon. I just ask that you remember what we spoke of back on R'ren'nkh'ia."
      'haabron grinned broadly.
      "I will, papa. Thank you."
      Kobis nudged him.
      "What?" It was whispered, and 'haabron replied in kind.
      "We can do what we want."
      The Saiyan hugged the zn'hre a little tighter.
      "Good. Do you think we could borrow an audio chip?"
      'haabron twisted to glance sideways at the prince.
      "You'd like music? Since when have you liked music?"
      Kobis nipped his earlobe.
      "Since I've been watching Jeice dance. Does your papa have anything that sounds like the chimes in the sound chamber?"
      "I'll ask…"

An hour later, languid from their bath and with the suite almost empty save for Ti'aasaan dozing with the hybrids on the sleeping platform, the pair slipped quietly into one of the spare rooms, a sparsely decorated chamber with a large bed, a balcony - they opened the doors to let the warm afternoon air drift in, bringing the scent of the climbing plant with it - and the ubiquitous audio player. Kobis had retrieved a large jug of fruit juice and a small platter of titbits from the store, and 'haabron had found exactly the right audio chip: designed as background music, it was filled with chimes, soft wind instruments and almost subliminal voices.
      Trembling, Kobis lay back on the sleeping platform, arms stretched above him, slender erection quivering as 'haabron teasingly trailed cold fingers down the warm bronzed body, pressing little kisses to his friend's smooth skin…
      He came quickly the first time, 'haabron's cool graceful hands cupping his shaft as it pulsed, catching drops of creamy semen, watching fascinated as the Saiyan's body flushed a deep gold. Kobis whimpered and pulled the zn'hre tightly to him, teeth working gently against the skin of his neck where it joined his shoulder, instinctively knowing what he wanted but also aware that it was too soon. His tail wrapped around his friend's slim waist, his hands slipped down to cup 'haabron's small backside, pulling the zn'hre's groin against his own, wriggling against the hardness he felt there, kissing 'haabron's throat as the prince gasped.
      "My turn…"
      And they explored each other, learning what gave delight, what tickled, what did nothing. From the first Kobis loved the slightly rough texture of 'haabron's tongue, squirming with delight as it flicked over his nipples, traced the outlines of collarbone and ribs, licked at his wrists and ankles. (Much as Kobis would have loved to feel it against his groin, by unspoken mutual agreement they used only fingers on each other, there. To use their mouths seemed somehow - a very grown-up thing to do. And neither of them was quite ready for it yet.) Kobis discovered that the soles of 'haabron's feet were exquisitely sensitive, and reduced the zn'hre to an incoherent writhing heap by stroking and kneading them delicately. 'haabron already knew how sensitive his friend's tail was, but hadn't known that the insides of his thighs were equally susceptible. And they both adored having their hipbones scratched very, very lightly…
      Eventually they dozed, sated, smiling dreamily, cuddled together. Perfectly content.

Zha'haarak had limped into Guard headquarters a little before noon, to the accompaniment of wide-eyed stares and not a few raised eyebrows and licked lips. Trying very hard not to blush, he asked the first female he'd found for directions to the Captain's office. The female - Hruska - bowed slightly, smiled indulgently and led the somewhat nervous zn'hre to Hijau's administrative centre, tapping on the half-open door to the inner office and ushering the prince courteously into the room. Hijau looked up, beaming as his eyes caught his bondmate's. He inclined his head to the female.
      "Thank you, Guardsman."
      Hruska directed a wickedly-appreciative smirk at the zn'hre's backside and responded in a deep voice,
      "It was my pleasure, sir."
      Hijau mock-glared at her.
      "Dismissed, Guardsman."
      Grinning cheekily, she saluted and left, closing the door quietly behind her. And no doubt off to spread the news that the Captain's alien mate was here…
      Hijau sighed - Radittsu never had this problem with discipline, did he? - then gathered Zha'haarak to him, burying his face in the cool, sweet-scented neck.
      *Hungry?*
      **A little**
      *Good. Let's see what's on offer.*

The messhall was almost full: obviously Hruska's news had spread quickly and a large number of the Guard had gathered in the hope that Hijau and his mate would be eating there today. The place quieted a little as the pair entered and made their way to the serving hatches, trying to ignore the murmurous buzz that followed them. Hijau carried platters for them both, and led the way to the tables reserved for officers. Kyuri was already there, grinning as she waved a greeting and pushed two chairs out for them.
      "Sir, your highness…"
      Hijau set down the platters and ushered Zha'haarak into his seat. The zn'hre smiled at the female, a little nervously. She chuckled.
      "Bit different to the palace, isn't it?"
      The prince lowered his eyes shyly and nodded.
      "But not so terribly unlike the serveries in the R'ren'nkh'ian enclaves." He glanced around, aware of the hastily averted eyes of the other diners. "Perhaps a little less comfortable, but only a little."
      Kyuri nodded, then glanced briefly at Hijau and back at the zn'hre.
      "Uh, your highness… If I'm prying, please forgive me, but I wanted to ask - how is your hip?"
      Zha'haarak blinked. How had she known about that? Oh, Hijau had probably mentioned it… He smiled.
      "A little painful. Very much less so than before it was replaced, but it aches somewhat. Especially in the cold."
      The female pursed her lips.
      "That's what I thought. Very well - this may not be of any use, but I've heard about a first class female who's had good results working with injuries like yours. She uses absolutely tiny amounts of ki, very carefully directed and controlled, to massage damaged joints from the inside. Apparently her success rate is very high."
      Hijau was leaning forwards, eyes alight with interest.
      "Where did you hear about this?"
      Kyuri grimaced, colouring slightly with embarrassment, and flapped her right hand in the air.
      "I… uh… managed to tear a ligament in a training session. I had another training session the next day, so I went to the infirmary to get it treated - bloody thing just didn't want to heal… Anyway, I got talking to Ayva, and she mentioned her. Apparently she's from Ayva's home island. Ayva'd be able to tell you more, I think. Or I can find out for you."
      Hijau was nodding slowly.
      "I'll delegate for now. Please find out what you can: I'll speak to Ayva myself later, if we think it would be useful."
      Kyuri grinned at Zha'haarak, her eyes twinkling, then inclined her head to her Captain.
      "Certainly, sir!"
      Then her smile faded, her eyes narrowing.
      "Oh fuck…"
      Hijau glanced back over his shoulder, suddenly feeling very cold.
      Cendawan.
      He closed his eyes briefly. She'd said she was due down-time on Vejiitasei…
      As she sauntered over to their table, tail swaying enticingly behind her, 'accidentally' brushing against various males as she walked, Hijau rapidly reminded himself of how long it had taken to repair the damage she'd caused last time, and the anguish he and Radittsu had struggled through thanks to the evil little baita, and that those days were now long past. He and Radittsu had reconciled a long time ago - even if it had taken Zha'haabron's near-breakdown to effect their complete reunion - and he was bonded to Zha'haarak - he'd be damned if he let anything interfere with that!! She no longer had any power over him.
      More importantly, he was now Captain of the Elite Guard, and - on Vejiitasei at least - he outranked her.
      He rose as she reached the table, face immobile and mildly contemptuous.
      "Cendawan."
      She smiled up at him, eyes half-closed, lazy smile on soft, mobile lips, and stroked across his groin with her tail.
      "Hello pretty thing. Told you I'd be back."
      He caught her tail, squeezing it hard enough to make her gasp and whip it from his grip, expression both bewildered and angry. He smirked.
      "This is Guard headquarters. While you are here, you will keep your tail to yourself - if you wish to keep it. And you will salute your Captain."
      "I would if he was here." she sneered. "But I haven't seen him. And Radi-san's hard to miss."
      Hijau smiled, coldly.
      "Obviously you are out of touch. Raditts'-san has been promoted. I am now Captain of the Elite Guard."
      Her mouth dropped open.
      "You?!"
      "You have a problem with that?"
      She swallowed hard, only just holding her anger in check, and sneered sullenly up at him.
      "No. Sir."
      He slapped her face, smartly, hard enough to sting but not enough to bruise.
      "Salute, Guardsman."
      She pulled herself upright, face almost ugly with fury, and saluted him. He nodded slowly, expression frosty.
      "You are dismissed."
      Her tail wrapped tightly around her waist, she turned sharply and strode out of the messhall. As Hijau watched her go, he was aware of an undercurrent of satisfied murmuring from a surprising number of the males in the hall. Obviously he and Radittsu hadn't been the only people to have suffered at her hands.
      Kyuri was gazing up at him, eyes wide with admiration.
      "Oh, very well done, sir! She's needed that for fucking years!!"
      Hijau sat down, smirking wryly.
      "Unfortunately, that's very unlikely to be the last of it. Cendawan doesn't give up."
      Kyuri regarded the completely bewildered Zha'haarak and sighed, tentatively touching his cool thin hand.
      "Are you all right, your highness?"
      The zn'hre gazed at her helplessly.
      "I… I don't understand…"
      Kyuri and Hijau exchanged glances, and the captain frowned, taking his bondmate's hand.
      *It's an old story, beloved. Old, unpleasant and really quite nasty. I'd rather not go into it just now.*
      Zha'haarak smiled tremulously.
      **If that's your wish, zk'vissin…**

The incident had put something of a damper on their meal. Hijau was distracted, and Zha'haarak, uncertain and anxious, had lost the little appetite he'd had. Kyuri growled and touched their hands gently.
      "Sir, your highness, please don't worry. She's not here for long. We can deal with her."
      Hijau closed his eyes and nodded - then rose, decisively, and smiled tightly down at Zha'haarak.
      "Let's go back to my office. There's something I want to ask you."
      Acknowledging Kyuri's salute, Hijau stalked from the messhall, face grim, Zha'haarak limping beside him.

**What is it you wish to ask?**
      Hijau hesitated for a moment, then pulled Zha'haarak to him, very gently holding him close.
      *Do you understand what claiming is, what it involves?*
      The zn'hre nodded.
      **The Ssii'iin has explained it, as has Leteetza. It is a very special thing**
      Hijau kissed him.
      *And I want you to claim me.*
      Zha'haarak pulled back and stared, eyes huge.
      **You want… But… Why?**
      Hijau shrugged, smiling at his beloved.
      *I belong to you. I want everyone else to know it.*
      Zha'haarak frowned.
      **Forgive my asking, zkai'din, but is this to show that you are… 'off-limits' to that female?**
      Hijau sighed.
      *In part. Though I've wanted you to do this since before you went back to R'ren'nkh'ia - what with FullMoon and then being made Captain I just never seemed to find the time to ask...* He grinned. *I'd like to claim you too, one day, when we're ready. But for now, it would make things easier for me.* He cupped the beautiful, delicate face in his hands, his own eyes full of love. *I want this, beloved. Please.*
      **I… I don't know what to do…**
      Hijau smiled. The door was locked, he'd no meetings for an hour… He dragged off his armour then slid out of his bodysuit, stretching his arms wide.
      *You bite me.* He inclined his head, indicating the skin where his neck joined his shoulder. *Here. Hard enough to leave a scar.*
      Zha'haarak brushed cool fingers over the area.
      **But that will hurt**
      *Not if I'm making love to you at the time…*
      **It will still hurt, zk'vissin. My teeth…**
      *As long as they don't actually meet, I'll be fine.*
      Zha'haarak bit his lip, hesitating, and Hijau pulled him close, sighing.
      *I love you. I want this. Please…*

Zha'haarak peeled off his boots and bodysuit.

Hijau bit his lip until it bled, forcing himself not to cry out as his zn'hre bit gently - very gently - into his neck, razor teeth slicing through tough Saiyan flesh like ki through soft fruit. And yet - the pain was exquisite… he thrust hard one last time and came, as the prince pressed his lips to the deep wound on his beloved's neck, his eyes brimming. He'd tried to be so careful, only make the tiniest, lightest bite, but somehow…
Hijau sighed with relief and cradled the trembling, distressed zn'hre closely, comforting him, ignoring the blood streaming down his chest and back. He kissed Zha'haarak's forehead gently.
*Thank you, zkai'din. Thank you…*

The ki manipulation mentioned in this chapter is courtesy of Talon and Dasia, who offered it as a way of alleviating Zha'haarak's pain. I'll thank them both properly in a couple of chapters' time!

Native R'ren'nkh'ian wind instrument, made from bone - looks like two penny whistles joined side by side, with one mouthpiece, but sounds like a flute.

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