The Necromancer's Stone; Walked Home

The house of Than, immortal member of the pantheon representing frost, water, hydromancy, and such like, was, to say the least, huge.  Turrets of ice, gardens of rime, and this strange stained glass window made entirely out of ice, Than took a great deal of pride in the house he'd built.  Took him fifty years to put the finishing touches on it, even though the basic structure had been done in a matter of minutes.  Thalia had actually put a few touches of her own on it, although she'd been careful not to make it anything he'd notice.  The pink wallpaper, sheer curtains, and fuzzy rugs hid the fact that she'd managed to turn the local ice into crystal, a noticeably warmer material.  If her father ever noticed, she'd have been kicked out before she could draw breath.
Her father's penchant for disproportionate retribution, one she shared in all fairness, was exactly the reason why they had to be so careful.
"Are you certain you need me to actually go in with you?  This seems an awful lot like how you lead us into that mob hideout."
"No, this is much worse than a couple of thugs."
"Or the way you tried to get me to follow you into that restroom?"
"I promise I won't make you watch me try on dresses."
"I wasn't saying I didn't enjoy it.  Your taste in textiles is excellent by the way.  I just mean I feel like you're trying to, I dunno, seduce me or something."
"I would never."  A deaf mole could have seen otherwise, and considering the Krovian fauna, probably had.  Thalia wasn't really sure why she was so intent on having him, but their was no denying she was.  Maybe it was just the amount of challenge he presented.  She'd never met anyone so stubborn.
"What do you have against just being honest?"
"What?"
"You're always..putting on a show.  You have to look right, say the right things; you never just, talk."
"I talk.  I talk all the time."
"No, you pontificate, you give speeches, you argue and debate and..and its all just so controlled."
"Where's all this coming from?  Did I do something to offend you?"
"I've been watching you for a while now; not to be creepy or anything,  and you always do the same things.  You dress up.  You crush anyone who gets in your way.  To most people you're just a power hungry, ego-maniacal villain, but I know you aren't.  You're just so determined to control your surroundings that you pretend to be something else just so that you can shape people's perception of you.  But in the process of building that persona you've completely forgotten about the you under it all.  I mean, you're so determined to manipulate me that I can't even tell what you actually think of me.  I don't know if you're trying to seduce me because you find me attractive or because you find it entertaining to play with me.  More importantly, I don't know if you know either.  What I want to know is; who are you?"
Thalia was dumbfounded.  Besides the fact that no one had ever talked to her like that, she still wasn't sure what had brought on this outburst.  He was right; she did like to control her circumstances.  And she did put on an act, she was still aware of that, although she was afraid that statement held the doom of 'still'.  But she knew who she was, right?  She was Thalia Thansfeld, daughter of an immortal, raised by another.  She was the finest student in the Arcane Academy; the most talented Hydromancer since her father and the greatest necromancer since Zink.  She was the villain other villains feared, and heroes spoke her name in hushed voices across the planet.  But she knew that wasn't what he was asking.
"Would you like to see my room?"
Hal rested his head on two fingers and sighed.  "The first time you start baring some skin I'm throwing myself out the window."
She pushed open the door and listened.  She could hear a page turning in the study.  Even though it was debatable whether or not he was sitting with it in his lap, he would doubtless be in the room, and preoccupied.  Thalia waved Hal in, and moved silently to the stairs.  She had much practice in managing the frozen stairs, but she was impressed that Hal navigated them with as sure of foot as she did.  The door was white ice, and the walls were too opaque to be seen through, but their was red wording on the door denoting it as hers.  Her father hated the color, but he'd never attempted to change it, to the best of her knowledge.  She turned to face Hal and smiled weakly, still uncertain after his lecture.
"This is my room.  If you want to see what I'm like when I'm not in public, this is about as good as it gets."  Thalia pushed the door open gently and showed him in.  He was quiet, even his breathing only apparent by the mist that followed.  He started to take in the whole room, lightly grazing the walls with the ends of his fingers as he walked its full circumference.  He finally stopped next to the bed, where she had seated herself.
"Its very."
"Yes?"
"Pink."
"My father's decorating tastes for a girl's bedroom are rather traditional."
"And did he buy all of the makeup and unicorns?"
"No, and he didn't hang the drapes or curtains either.  Those were me."
"I thought so.  I'm not surprised by the makeup, but the unicorns are..fluffy."
"I always liked them.  Ever since I was a kid.  I hear there used to be real ones."  Hal glanced at her incredulously.  "Wild ones anyways, not the fat, lazy ones they keep for ingredients."
"You mean you've never seen a wild unicorn?"
"They're officially extinct, died out thousands of years ago.  Even my dad isn't old enough to have seen one."
"Mine was."
"Huh?"
"My dad.  He told me stories about seeing herds of unicorns when he was young.  And Chimera, and Buffalo, and he even saw a dragon; the real kind, not just a summoned one."
"A Dragon?  But they were ancient history even before the Shade Invasion, and that was hundreds of years ago.  How old is your dad?"
"He'd be two thousand and forty-nine this spring.  Mum would have been too, if they weren't dead."
"Your parents were..?"
"Same as yours, although not quite so powerful I should think."
Thalia stared at him for a moment and then forced herself to ask the question.  "How old are you then?"
"Twenty-Seven yesterday; makes me a year older than you."
"A year and a few months, my birthday was back in August.  So you're not.."
"We both survived that fall; I think its fair we assume we are.  Even the undying were born once, I don't see why you'd have to be in your hundreds to be any more immortal than someone born that way."
They were both quiet for a while.  Hal clearly had more to say, but was waiting for her to speak first.  She had plenty of questions, but was still afraid to talk.  So out of fear and consideration, silence fell.  Darkness, the inevitable result of two people sitting quietly and motionless on a bed as night approached, fell soon thereafter.  Finally Hal decided to speak up.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier.  Its been a very stressful day, what with your killing my girlfriend, our falling to our apparent deaths, not actually dying, and then taking down that gang so you could change clothes.  I'm not apologizing for what I said, it was all true and I think you know it; I'm apologizing for not leading into it better.  I'm also going to apologize for the tone I used; I shouldn't have been so harsh about it.  Its just that.."  And he stopped to look over.  Thalia had slumped against the nearest post of the bed and fallen asleep.