"A Meeting in A Meadow"

By: Roseanna MacAllen,
Printer and Singer

Kate MacFarland,
Roseanna's maid

Crom, scared and injured

********************************************************

**Roseanna's Farmhouse, Year 821**

Inside the small but nice looking farmhouse, the young Roseanna MacAllen was painting an picture of an pair of twins girls who was sitting by an window as their long red hairs is shining, it was an beautiful sight.

"I think your family will like this pictures for years to come." she said sweetly towards the young girls while the girls giggled and eatting an piece of fruit.

Outside the young Kate MacFarland who is an faith and protected maid and servant was picking some flowers along with some fresh fruit, the young red haired woman was getting hotter by the minute as the sun have just been out for an few hours.

***

Crom made his way through the thick underbrush of the forest. He had been on the run for god knows how long, but he knew that he couldn't be caught. His right arm still ached from his injuries, nearly two months old and uncared for.

The flesh around the wound was beginning to change color and ached almost constantly. He needed help, and there was nowhere to turn.

He broke through the treeline into a green pasture and tumbled heavily to the ground. He let out a loud groan as he fell chest first onto a small rock. He struggled to right himself on his knees for a few minutes to rest.

He couldnt remember the last time he ate. It had been far too long he already knew. He stood and began crossing the pasture towards the sun, or at least what he believed to be the sun at the moment.

It hit his nose like acid at first, but there was a scent in the air. A delectable, sweet smell that inspired him to foolishly follow only his nose.

***

Kate was dusting some rugs off outside with an stick when she saw an young man crossing the pasture who didn't look very well.

The young woman can towards him when he passed out from the heat of the sun, "ROSEANNE, I NEED HELP!" the young red haired woman yelled towards the house then ran towards the young man.

Lucky the young twin girls when home an few minutes before while the painting was drying off, Roseanna ran out of her small house in an old, brown, long dress and helped carry the man in.

They put him in an soft bed while Roseanna was cooking some food up, meanwhile Kate started to put some clean cloths on his injures.

When the cloth touched his skin, Crom startled awake with a yelp and instinctively grabbed his arm in defense. His vision blurred the more he moved, but he could swear he made out the faces of women. His eyes rolled back and he fell into unconciousness again. His arm looked bad and dirty, and a foul smell came from it. He lapsed in and out of conciousness for a while before finally resting still. His breath was quite shallow.

***

While Kate was in the wood gathering some berries, the young Roseanna sat by Crom's bedside and started to feed him some hot, chicken soup.

"This will help you little bit sir, we been cleaning your arm trying to keep the dirty and anything else out." Roseanna said in an sweet voice while putting the cup close to his lips.

The liquid stung his parched mouth as the sweet voice drifted into his head. Very slowly he ate the soup, his body slowly deparching. It would take some time for him to get his strength back. And this would be a good place to hide. He tried to speak, but his throat crackled out on him. "Th...thank y...you." His shoulder ached as he laid as still as he could, for movement sent fire up his spine.

"Whe...re... am ...I?" he asked the lady tending to him. he swallowed another mouthful of soup and relished the good clean flavor of it.

"This is my farmhouse, my name is Roseanna MacAllen the other woman is my maid Kate MacFarland don't worry sir your safe here and you can stay here as long as you like." she said with an gentle smile while giving him another taste of the soup hoping it helping him.

He swallowed more easily this time. "Th-thank you milady. M-my name is Crom. I am a traveller from afar and I wish not to be a burden...." he tried to sit up with very little avail.

"What are you doing Crom?" Roseanna asked while helping him sit up alittle, then the young woman puts the soup down.

"I think I may be running a fever, i feel very warm right now...." Crom began a cold sweat and shivered noticably. "Tea....Achrei root tea.... that would be nice..." he mumbled and tried to smile the best he could.

"Coming right up." she told him while moving towards the fire to boil some water, Rosanna with her beautiful voice started singing while cutting up some apple to cook up.

Year 821

"All for the Baron Part 2 of 2"

[Back Post]

By

Ethan Suder
&
Dhanishta Eshe
Appearing Chandrakala Lakshmi Eshe (Baroness K’vol)

Ethan sat up and looked around. The sun was still up and still warm. He looked next to him at Chandrakala. He felt like he'd just had all control returned to him. As if he were possessed for the last few hours. He smiled at Kala and then looked back up at the sky.

Kala smiled back up at Ethan, she so much wanted to stay here in his arms but she knew that she would have to go soon. She wrapped her arms round him tightly not wanting to let go. With her head on his chest she could hear his heart beat, the beat that was so nearly snuffed out. She ran her fingertips over his scars and wound his chest hair round her finger. A sadness overwhelmed her and silent tears streamed down her cheeks onto his exposed chest.

“What's wrong pet?" he asked stroking her hair.

She looked up into his eyes and just stared for a moment, drinking him in, memorising his every look, move. “I will have to go home soon. And so will you.” She whispered, not wanting to hear the words. "You don't have to. You shouldn't." he said. "How could you go back to him after... is this going to be our lives? We go back to living lies and if we every cross paths again, just do this?"

She looked off into the distance. She knew the power of K’vols wrath. It was true that she didn’t love him, she feared him with every bone in her body. She had seen what he had done to maids that had fled the manor, what would he do to her if she left?

“What do you suggest, Ethan? That I run away with you and live happy ever after? That will never happen. For we would always be running, and the ‘happy ever after’ would follow ‘rest in peace’.”

"So you'd rather go back to a place where a man treats you like an animal. Hits you whenever he gets fed up or fustrated. And how far will it go, how far will he go?" Ethan looked at her. "At least you'd have a chance with me. A chance for a normal happy life, that's got to be worth the risk." he said almost pleading with her.

She was startled by his words, “He has never hit…..” she stopped wondering how Ethan knew of her hateful, violent husband, and why on earth was she defending him?

“You don’t understand. You have lived in the woods far too long to know how the world works. I am bound by duty. For better or worse, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others till death do us part. I have already broken one of my vows. How could I live with myself if I broke them all? And for how long?”

Ethan turned away and thought for a short while and then looked back at Dhanishta with a slight smile creeping out of the corner of his lips. "What if he thought you were dead?" he asked.

Year 821

[BACK POST]

“Freedom, Part One of Four”

By

Ethan Suder
Dhanishta Eshe
Appearing Chandrakala Lakshmi Eshe (Baroness K’vol)

Ethan had been travelling for a short while. He was racing his horse, pushing her to the limits. He needed to get back as soon as possible to gather a couple of weapons and the key to the plan to save Chandrakala. He missed two of the major villages so he wouldn’t be slowed down. The whole time he was thinking about Chandrakala. Would the Barron hurt her before Ethan could get to her? He was also on a time scale. The plan was already in motion, and Ethan couldn’t be delay by anything or anyone. Thus far, he was on time. He thought it would all go smooth, after all, what could possibly go wrong?

Dhanishta heard the herd the pounding hooves on the dirt track, she ran to the window to see who it was. Running down the stares she unbolted the door, things in the Town had been tense and she had had bad dreams of death and destruction. She was afraid to be alone with the boy, fear of her dreams coming true, but Ethan was home. With him here she knew everything would be fine he would keep them safe if anything were to happen. Kalethan flew past her as she opened the door and raced out and jumped onto Ethan before he had time to remove his feet from the stirrups. The both of them went tumbling to the ground. The boy laughing with happiness, though Ethan had only lived with them for a year Kal had grown extremely close to him. He thought of him as a father and never wanted to be apart from him.

Ethan greeted the boy and gave him and hug. He picked the boy off the ground and carried him back to the house and Dhanishta. He gave her a nod and let the boy slide down his body and leg to the ground. The boy running off again, as he always did. He had a little too much energy Ethan thought, but that was good. He’d obviously gone to get something that he had found or made or something to show Ethan. “It’s good to back.” He said with a half smile. “Although I didn’t get everything we need. I thought I’d rest for the night and then leave again tomorrow. There is a couple of other things I saw that I thought would be good for us. It won’t take me long to get there and back.” He said.

Dhanishta dead bolted the door again and turned back to Ethan, “Whatever it is, it can wait.” She said with a hard look.

Ethan glanced at her and hesitated. He looked back at the floor and gave a nod. For now she wanted him to stay for some reason. So he would….. for a short while.

Dhanishta fixed some food for them all and made Ethan eat. She could tell that he was tired and wanted to rest but he should really have a full belly. The meal was good, and the air full of Kal’s tails of his time without Ethan, he was egger to hear of Ethan’s trip but for now he would have to wait.

“Ethan is tired and needs to rest now.” Dhanishta told the boy, “And so must you.” she told Kal. “He can tell you of his trip in the morning.”

With a small protest Kal went to his bed while Dhani cleared the table things away.

Ethan watched the boy sleep for a short while before turning in himself. He was quite tired and needed to be rested before his next trip. He slipped into his bed and fell asleep right away.

Dhanishta stayed up while the two slept, she was glad to have Ethan back but for some reason sleep just wouldn’t come to her.

She ventured to the kitchen to make some tea that would aid her sleep but stumbled in the doorway as pain gripped her stomach. She staggered reaching for the table to steady her self but missed and tumbled to the floor, head first.

She screamed in pain, not from the bang on the stone floor which gashed her head but from the increasing pain in her stomach. The room fell away from her leaving only a blurred vision of a man standing over her, his grin was evil and twisted with a glint of happiness which made the sight of him even more revolting. As she moved she could see something next to her, something red. ‘Hair’ Dhanishta thought, ‘red hair. It must be Kala’. Through the blinding pain she screamed out her sisters name, over and over before sob’s racked her body.

Ethan jumped out of his bed. He heard Dhanishta screaming. He ran through the house as quickly as he could. His first thought was that an intruder had broken into the house. But his instincts told him otherwise. He reached the kitchen and dropped to the floor by Dhanishta. She looked like she was in pain. He saw the blood on her head from where she had either been struck or where she had fallen and hit something. He grabbed her arms to steady her. “Dhanishta… Dhanishta!” he shouted. “It’s ok, calm down.” He said.

Dhanishtas vision returned, yet the pain lingered. She saw Ethan, the sight of him was comforting and in that moment she wanted to be comforted by him. She threw herself into his arms and sobbed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “What happened?” he said with slight concern in his voice.

Once the sobbing had calmed enough for Dhanishta to speak she told Ethan of her vision, Kala was in trouble.

Kalethan poked his sleepy head round the corner, “What’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes only half open.

Ethan snapped his head to the side and looked at Kal. “Nothing.” He said. “It’s ok, she just fell over.” He lied. He strolled over to the boy and dropped to one knee. “She’ll be ok, she’s just tired and clumsy. What are you doing up champion, huh?” he said poking the boy. “You trying to be a hero, thought there were intruders or something, huh?” he said jokingly as he continued to poke the boy and tickle him. Kal couldn’t sop giggling and laughing. Ethan stopped his tickling assault on the boy and gave him a hug. “I want you to do something for me and go back to bed. Ok?” Ethan said. Kal gave a nod and left, returning to his bed.

Ethan moved back over to Dhanishta who was trying to get back to her feet. Ethan helped her up and moved her over to a stool where he sat her down. He gathered what he needed to stop the bleeding and do what he could to the gash in Dhanishta’s head. “I should leave soon. Chandrakala needs help as you said. We can’t sit back and do nothing.” He explained.

Dhanishta shook her head slowly, she knew her sister was in need of help or she would die but something lingered in the air around her, she could smell it, danger. “You must stay.” She said feeling guilty, how could she say such a thing, her own flesh and blood, her twin who had risked her live to save her, and now what was she doing in return?

Ethan shook his head. “No. You were in trouble, I helped you. She’s in trouble.” He paused. “I have to help her. I’ll be back as soon as possible, but I’m not going to let what ever is going to happen to her happen. I can’t believe you would want that either.” He said. “You know what needs to be done.”

“I know,” Dhani agreed, “But…” she couldn’t even attempt to describe what she felt, why she wanted, needed, him to stay. “You shouldn’t go.” She said eventually, “I can’t explain. I just feel that you shouldn’t go.” She knew that this was not enough for Ethan to make him stay but what could? “Please.” She begged looking into his eyes.

Ethan looked away and then looked back at Dhanishta, into her eyes. “I know there’s growing problems in the village. But remember what I told you, what I taught you and Kal, if there’s any problem, leave from the back and head over the field to the forest. You’ll be safe there. But I’m sure everything will be fine. I’ll be back before you know it. But Chandrakala is in trouble and I’m going to help her.” He said, very determined.

She nodded, after all there was nothing she could do. Ethan returned to his bed. Dhanishta could not sleep, though she was tired, the pain emanating from her gashed head made lying down a most un-enjoyable experience, so she sat in a chair by the fire and rested there till the sun rose.

***

Ethan entered the room wearing his travelling gear. The gear he wore when he was expecting battle. Dhanishta knew what he was thinking might happen. Ethan too knew and was slightly nervous. He hadn’t had to fight or kill anyone for a long time. It felt odd that he may have to fight. But if that’s what he had to do to get to Chandrakala and free her, then that’s what he would do. He walked over to Dhanishta and hugged her. “I’ll be back soon. And when I do, it will be a day to remember.” He said with a smile.

Dhanishta gave him a solemn smile. She gave him a bundle of things that she had prepared for him to take, food and the like.

Ethan left the room and went to Kal’s room. He opened the door and looked at the boy sleeping. He looked so comfortable, as if he could stay wrapped up for the entire day. He was eager to leave and return as quickly as possible to see his son again. He walked over to the bed and kissed his son’s head and whispered to him, “Remember everything that I’ve taught you.” The boy moaned slightly in return. Ethan then left the room and the house. It was time. He was now on a mission. He jumped on to his horse and left as fast as he could. He had a good few days travel ahead and would only take a break when his horse needed it.

Yr 825

"The outside reaches in...."

The webwitch of the woods
Saladin (the woodsman)
Their son, now known as Boy

OOC Warning, some sex

As much as the Webwitch hated it, she was demanding they all stay inside. Far too close to the woods for her liking, a skirmish between a Kling band of scouts and Galaxia militia was ensuing. If the fighting came too close, all she had was the spiders for protection and she had to admit, they were weak against men in armour.

Saladin on the other hand prepared for this, when he found out about the Kling warbands moving around. He had obtained a crossbow and bolts from the red banner compound one night and he carried it now. Walking up to the webwitch he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I do not know where else we can go if they burn the woods.", she said softly as she tried to keep thier son from going out to see what the noise was.

He whispered softly, "th'y'la. Do not be afeared, I have enough bolts to defend us if necessary, but we can retreat farther in the woods."

"Not if the woods are smoldering ash."

We will prevent this from happening." He looked at her, "If we are neutral and offer aid to no side, they will leave us alone... It is what we must do."

"I have seen what they have done to those who do nothing.", the Webwitch said, "Farms are still pillaged and burned."

He walked back to a bundle of clothing he had fled with and removed a short sword. "Then if we have to we will defend our home." He handed her the blade.

Reluctantly the Webwitch took the blade and it dipped in her hands as she'd never held one before and was unused to the balance.

Their son was all wide eyed when he saw it and the 10yr old walked over wanting to hold it.

He placed his hand out, "Be careful son, it is dangerous..."

"Father, why can't I hold it.", the boy said, "I've seen the others out there with them. I can hold it safely."

He looked at her and they spoke their secret language, *do you think it's safe?*

*He is tainted already by all of this. His eyes look beyond the safety of the woods.*

*A boy's heart and mind wander, it is a sign of growing up but not apart.* He paused, *he may need to take up a blade if this war continues, more he learns safer he'll be*

*I will not have it*, she said, trying to keep her tone civil, *He does not need to know the ways of the city. He stays here.*

He kept his tone civil and calm and relaxed *Th'y'la think, if they find us they will drag him in to the army with or without your consent and blessing. It is how wars are fought, I know.. I helped plan them*

Her face was pained beneath the veil. *A curse on all from the cities.*, she said as her voice cracked slightly.

He slipped an arm aroud her and embraced her, *a curse indeed, but be assured of my love th'y'la*

She set the blade down as if it were a rat's carcass and put her arms atop his, trying to take comfort.

Thier son picked up the dropped blade and held it properly, his eyes glittering.

His eyes showed sadness, "Be careful with that boy, that blade gives you power.. "

The boy just smiled, eyes more intent on the blade and he carefully swung it about. The Webwitch pulled from Saladin's embrace and with pain in her eyes, she walked to the room they shared to be alone.

He knelt down and took the blade from him, "War is not a game child. War is something that is serious and dangerous. Lives are lost families split. I know of the pain it causes and the sadness that can be inflicted. Do not be in a hurry to be a warrior, be a child instead."

The boy frowned, much like his father in a mood. "I want to learn.", he said, "I've seen what's beyond the woods and I want to see more of it."

He shook his head, "Only danger, death and misery lie beyond the woods, you are better off here and minding your mother."

"It's not all bad like Wobby says.", the boy said, trying to argue, "I remember the day you took me into town. There were people smiling there."

"They smile no more. War has taken people. Familes have lost fathers, brothers, sons. Right now town is not safe. Mind me on this son, perhaps later on we will be able to discuss it, but now Wobby needs you to stay away from the town and so do I, it is too dangerous."

The boy was silent, still scowling and making mental plans on going to the edge of the woods anyway.

He took his son's hand and gazed in to his eyes, "Give me your word son, do not go in to town."

The boy looked into his father's eyes. "I hate it here. Nothing happens, nothing changes."

He looked at him, he knew they couldn't keep the boy in the woods forever, and the town would reach them. He needed to speak to the webwitch about it. He exhaled, "YOu do not want some of the changes. I suggest you go mind your chores, I will speak to Wobby."

Thier son just stomped off sulking, dropping the sword at his father's feet with a thud.

He picked up the blade and sheathed it. He handled it with a professional's skill that he has learned for years. He walked in to the bedroom where the witch sat.

She silently sat on the bed, much like a statue, motionless .

He sat next to her and slipped an arm around her waist, "Th'y'la."

She looked at him, her eyes beginning to water.

He embraced her gently, "He is headstrong. He has my stubborn mode."

"I'm afraid we're going to lose him.", she said softly.

"If we continue with the fight to keep him out of town, we will." He said just as softly.

"He has to stay here.", she said, "He will replace me when the time comes."

"Have you told him this?"

"He knows through my training him in the herblore."

Saladin held her in his arms, "He is a curious child. He wishes to know more..."

"All he needs is here.", she said as a tear rolled down her face.

Gently he kissed her tear away, "He does not believe that. He is a stubborn child as was I a stubborn patient."

"I will tie him here with a rope if I must.", she said softly.

He hugged her and kissed her lips gently, "He will resist. "

"I...I just..don't want to lose..him.", the witch said as she finally broke down.

Meanwhile, thier son had only done a few of his chores. Mostly he'd been brooding and off on impulse, he stomped out of the hut, with his father's sword.

Saladin held the crying webwitch, They were alone and he kissed her gently on the top of her head, "Ahdjiia... "

She just clung to him, sobbing.

He rocked her gently letting her cry, gently he rubbed her back being there for her to hold on to. "I love you..." HE said softly.

"Please, my love....make him stay.", she said, for the first time calling him love.

He kissed her gently, "I will do my best."

She sniffled, and just clung to Saladin.

He hugged her and rocked her, "Lay down, sleep, I will bring your son to him, tell him what you have told me..."

She nodded and lay down. Sleep however was eluding her.

He got up and walked to the woods wher ehe found the boy holding his sword.

He watched him move with the blade, "Keep your guard up son... if you do not you will be killed." Then he took the blade from him, "Wobby wishes to speak to you."

"I'm not going.", the boy said defiantly.

Saladin sat down and stared at him, "She is your mother, you are hurting her."

The boy was still scowling. "I still want to see things. There's more out there than there is here."

"Speak to her." Hs tone was reasonable, "You are growing fast, you must make decisions for yourself."

"She won't listen.", the boy said, "Anytime I mention the world away from here she won't say anything about it other than we're fine here."

"She has her reasons son." Saladin never lost his temper with the boy, and he never raised a hand, "You are 10 years of age, you are becoming a man. I ask you to listen."

"She doesn't listen to me, so why should I listen to her anymore."

"Because she is your mother, and she has given you life."

"But it's always her way or none."

"SHe is scared for you, she does not want to lose you to this war."

"I won't get killed.", the boy said, "I will stay away from the fighting."

"That is what we want you to do here..." He took his blade back, "I do not want to be the cause of your leaving."

"You showed me there was more outside the woods.", the boy said, now afraid that Wobby would make his father leave, "I don't want to forget all you showed me."

"Let the war pass son, you are a young man now, there is nothing but death blood and slaughter in war, valor, honor glory those are what fools quest for." He put his hand on the boy's shoulder, "if you were killed I would be saddened and it would destroy your mother. Please come back and talk to Wobby."

"She won't say anything more than what she's said."

"Then listen, and do nothing tonight, impulsive decisions can only hurt people." It was the voice of his experience.

"Father...", the boy said after a long silence, "I look at our hut...and I don't want it to be the only thing I know."

He nodded, "I understand son, but perhaps we shoudl not make a decision now." He took the boy's hand, "Come, we will walk back together. You will hear your mother out and we will work out a solution."

The boy snorted as he took his father's hand. "Pigs will fly first."

He looked at him then they walked back to the cabin. On the way back he looked down at his son and smiled, his son was growing in to a fine man.

Inside he took the boy in to the witch's room.

The Webwitch rose from the bed and stood as they entered.

He walked over to her and kissed her gently then went to put his blade away.

The boy and his mother just stared at each other in silence.

Saladin walked back out and watched the impasse, he was chafing at his mother's protectiveness liek a young colt on a tether.

The war of wills continued as neither said a word.

He watched her and exhaled. this could get ugly.

The silence and tension was so thick it was almost hard to breathe. Neither was going to back down on thier stance.

Saladin looked at them and watched this was eitehr going to explode or be an understanding.

Time passed and both were still staring at each other. At this rate it would only be exhaustion that made one drop.

He looked at them then spoke to her, *tell him what you told me...*

Saladin's voice sounded like thunder in the tense silence, but the Webwitch spoke. Her words were soft, but compelling as she spoke of her not wanting to lose thier son, how he was going to be a greater healer than she was when he was grown.

The boy just listened in silence, his eyes still hard, but his posture softened.

Saladin watched him, his eyes asked him to tell her what he said.

There was more silence as the boy thought about what he should say.

He was still convinced that she wouldn't change her mind. "I want more than this.", he said as he turned and left the room.

Saladin walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, he too spoke softly but told him about how he used to live in the town, and how he let his life be ruled by lusts for power and greed and how he came here nearly dead. He told him that the woods may be a simpler life but it's a good life.

"I want to chose for myself.", the boy said softly, breaking the witch's heart.

He looked at her and then spoke to the boy again, "I understand son, I understand but you cannot reject this life off hand, give it a chance that is all I ask."

"It is all I know.", the boy said, "I just want to see the other way as well."

He looked at the boy and nodded, "Right now, go out finish your chores, your mother and I must talk."

The boy was happy to leave and the Webwitch deflated once he left. No one had ever seen her like this.

He walked back over to her and hugged her again, "He must make his own decisions Th'y'la, we cannot force his path on him."

"I have lost him.", she said softly, "Nothing here can compare to the lure of the city when one doesn't know."

"The lure of the city is empty, he will come home to the hearth." Saladin spoke assuridly.

"I hope he does.", she said softly as she sat on the bed, feeling older than she was.

He sat next to her and began to massage her shoulders, "Th'y'la, you must be patient."

"With all things, I am.", she said, "But I worry so for him."

"He is flesh of your flesh, blood of your blood, for him you worry."

"He is of you too.", she said, "Why will he not listen to you?"

"Because he is a stubborn child, he is young he thinks he knows all. I thought the same thing when I was his age."

"If I lose him, there will be none to replace me.", she said softly.

"Would you like another child, I wished to discuss tht with you anyway..." He paused, "not that I wish him to be lost..."

"Another child would be rougher on me.", the Webwitch said, "I am growing older and my body is feeling the pangs of middle age"

"I will be here to help, by your side through it all." He kissed her gently, "It would be rough but however I would aid you it woudl be done."

She smiled wistfully at his kiss. "This time I will not need the herbs."

He took her hand in his and kissed her hand, "But we will require more then one attempt in one night, perhaps I can..."

"I know my body.", she said softly, "My time is so very close."

"Tonight?" He whispered with a twinkle in his eye...

"After our son is asleep.", she said softly.

He kissed her gently, "Then let us put him to sleep." His voice was light as he teased her.

The Webwitch smiled beneath her veil and she stepped out of the room she shared with Saladin. Their son was looking out a window, a wistful look on his face.

He put his hand on the boy's shoulder, "Wash up for supper, we will be eating soon."

The boy sighed and headed off to wash up. The witch watched him, her eyes showing her feelings for him.

Saladin helped set the table then slipped his arms around her waist and gently kissed the side of her neck.

She was stirring her ever heated cauldron of stew, as well as had some bread baking in the pot she'd fought against having so long ago. A smile crossed her lips as he held her.

He gently kissed her cheek then let a hand slide along her hip, he desired her, that much he never hid from her.

The witch slid a hand atop Saladin's, still smiling beneath her veil. Their son just walked past them to take his seat for dinner, already used to the displays of affection between his parents.

He moved his hand off her hip then checked on the bread and then let he check the stew. Dinner was almost ready and he brought drinking bowls full of water for them.

The witch served them all with the rabbit stew and the fresh buns she baked. She realized it was hard to convince thier son how much better life was out here when she used some of the convienences from the town.

He ate heartily as he always did. He watched how she reacted and he looked at the boy as well, his family. He knew the boy had to do this for himself.. he had to grow as a man on his own ,but it would take time for him to be ready.

The meal passed uneventfully, and in silence. The boy helped clean up as he always did after supper.

Saladin helped out, then they put the dishes away. He looked at her and smiled softly then tried to think of a mutually acceptable solution. They would discuss it tonight. After he goes to bed and before they joined.

Once things were cleaned and away, the boy asked if he could sleep outside tonight, just next to the hut door.

To his suprise, the Webwitch said yes, as long as he called some of the spiders to keep watch over him.

Saladin raised an eyebrow to her, this was curious, but he did not say anything negative.

The boy smiled and grabbed his blankets to sleep under the stars. His mother said nothing, just sighed in resignation with herself.

He looked at her and moved to sit next to her. Then he slipped his arms around her and asked her softly *what is wrong th'y'la?"

"Even this was hard for me.", she said softly.

He kissed her lips softly, "You must let him grow... even if it is apart... it is the hard thing of being a mother."

"It was us for so long, until you came.", she said softly, "He looked up to me for everything, and now he hates me."

"He does not hate you... he wishes to see the world, to see more then the woods."

He looked at her and then asked, "If you ahd to do it again, would you have cast me out in to the woods?"

"If I knew what was to come?"

"Yes..."

"I cannot say.", she said after a lengthy silence, "I care for you both."

He kissed her lips softly, "It does pain me to know that I may be the cause of this discord."

"You just hastened what was going to come.", she said, "With this fighting, he would have become curious."

He kissed her gently, "I am sorry for any part I played."

"If I must chose, at least his first time walking in the town was at your side."

He nodded, then kissed her again, lowering her veils to kiss her lips softly, "I love you..." HellboundHeart1: "As I do you.", she said softly as she returned the kiss.

He caressed her cheek and nuzzled her neck, "You are my heart and soul..."

She smiled and led him to thier room. "And you are mine."

He began to shed his garments, then he walked over and kissed her again, nuzzling her neck and letting his hands begin to wander over her body.

She let her robes slide from her body and then guided him onto the bed.

THey climbed in to bed and he kissed her again, his hands began to caress her body, first her full breasts then down to her legs, along her sleek thighs then beteween them in the joining.

She returned his kiss and wrapped herself around him.

He felt himself stiffen against her leg then let his mouth wander lower and begin to kiss and suckle both of her breasts.

She moaned softly cradling his head as he suckled her breasts.

He kissed her again then let his hand move betewen her legs, beginning to pleasuer her down below, knowing what she liked from his body.

The witch was ready for him, and her eyes glittered with desire.

Soon he was inside her and their bodies began to move together making love as they had many times before.

She kissed him hungrily as their bodies entwined, the pleasure building within them both.

He returned her kiss, the hunger present as their bodies moved together. His hands caressed her body as they moved together. The pressure of his pleasure building longer and longer.

Her cries grew shorter and sharper as the point of no return came upon her.

His own pleasure came with hers and he kissed her gently as they basked in the afterglow. Silently he held her. Then nuzzled her neck as they laid under the blankets.

The Witch sighed softly as she curled up next to him. A smile was on her lips as she kissed him.

He kissed her back and held her close, gently he let his hands wander over her body and he kissed her softly.

"I wonder what this child shall be?", she said more to herself than to him.

"A healthy happy child..." he whispered to her, "and that is the most important things in the world..."

"819 - Huntress" Part 1 of 2

Primary Cast:

Victor Demonsson
Grey The Thief
Laura Harper

****

Galaxia
The Dark Woods
Grey's Hut

"Thank you again, Victor." Laura's voice was a little weaker than it had been years before when he'd first met her, but she never failed to thank him for the food he brought, or the things he did around the small hut. "I'm sorry that Poppet wasn't here to see you, she'll be disappointed she missed you again.

Victor still didn't understand why the old woman wasn't afraid of him, even after all this time, but he had long since given up trying to puzzle it out. He thought that she might know the real reason he had started to make his visits to repair the roof or deliver food when Poppet wasn't there and had stopped sleeping at the hut, but she'd never said anything to indicate it. For a blind woman she saw more than most with sight.

"I'll see her later," he assured Laura. "We hunt deer today."

The old woman smiled mysteriously. "I think she's down by the river, fishing. She took some crumbs and scraps to spread on the water when she left this morning."

That was going to be difficult. Fishing always was, at least for him in the last few years.

"I'll try there," he promised as he set off. ~ Maybe she'll be done by the time I get there. ~

As he slipped thought the trees like a ghost, he couldn't help wondering how much the old woman really knew and understood - and how much Poppet did.

****

Galaxia
The Dark Woods
The River

The fish swam by her feet again, teasing her by darting around her legs and eluding her grasp. Grey remained still as she kept low in the water, the old shift that she wore when swimming, or fishing, already soaked after nearly an hour of the fish's sport. Well, like it or not, one of them would be Laura's dinner tonight. Grey hated fishing. She wasn't fond of their taste either, but for her ailing friend she would suffer both.

Victor watched silently from the bank for several minutes. Poppet hadn't finished fishing as he'd hoped. Finally, knowing that it would be more difficult than he wanted, he started forward again, deliberately making enough noise to be heard. His whole life had been difficult, this was just more of the same.

She heard his approach but said nothing. A big fish was heading towards her, unaware of the danger, and she would be ready. Grey opened her hands and then reached down quickly, grabbing the squirming fish, and then heaving the thing upon the bank. She grinned, dusted imaginary dirt off her hands at her accomplishment, and then turned to wave hello to her friend. She made her way quickly out of the river and up the bank.

Victor endured her emergence from the river and the first few steps up the bank before he had to turn away. The shift she wore was fitted to her like a second skin by the water, and the image made his mouth suddenly dry. This was worse than the day two years ago when he'd spied her bathing and understood what it was that he'd been feeling for some time when she was near. He'd chosen to say nothing then, afraid to lose the only contact he had with people that weren't afraid of him. Poppet was older now, and had grown, if anything, more desirable to him - and still he said nothing, that same fear still present.

"Clothes, Poppet," he said after a moment, unable to not look at her despite the problems it caused. "You're not decent. If someone sees you..."

Grey looked down at herself. Decent? She was clean, wasn't she? And the shift probably fit her better than ever. Five years of the food he left for them had filed out the scrawny body the forest had left. What was so indecent? Men were so foolish, Grey thought. She shrugged and twisted the water from her hair. She looked at the crossbows at his side and raised an eyebrow. When he refused to turn, she cleared her throat.

"Hunting." He held up the smaller of the two crossbows, obviously sized for someone other than himself. "Mine won't work for you, so I made you one that will.

The weapon was crafted just as lovingly Victor's own, but smaller, more in keeping with the person it was intended for. Its arms had the same slightly odd look that his did, but were less massive, and the stock was shaped differently, without the spur that slipped under his armpit to steady the weapon.

She grinned again and couldn't stop herself from grabbing the new crossbow with delight. She had tried using his a few years back, had "borrowed" it actually- the one time Victor had yelled at her but only because he had feared for her safety- to try to take down a deer, and had spent most of the afternoon just trying to load the beast. Grey turned and, without thinking, gave Victor an impulsive wet hug.

Victor closed his eyes as she wrapped her arms around him, and simply stood still as a tree, afraid to hug her back for fear of where the feel of her in his arms would lead - and what he might do to get there. His hand tight on his crossbow and the other making a fist, he waited for her to release him, only then letting himself relax.

She frowned slightly. Victor had become a lot more distant lately, she thought. She knew he showed up at the hut often when she wasn't around. And he seemed to be uncomfortable with her touch. Am I really so appalling, she wondered as she looked down at herself.

Grey blinked. Her shift was a little more threadbare than she had last remembered. Maybe that was why he had told her to cover up. She could remember being afraid of people seeing her body when she first arrived to the forest but she had never worried around Victor. She was just comfortable around him and he had never forced himself on her.

Maybe he wanted to? She remembered life outside the forest: the gossip, courtly love, hidden corners. She was not ignorant of what was done with the opposite sex. But she had never thought that Victor might look at her in that fashion. Grey looked up at him slyly, comprehension slowly dawning. She wondered if that was the case.

Grey shrugged, only one way to find out. She quickly grabbed his arm to pull him down a bit and pecked him on the cheek as thank you and to test out her new theory.

Surprised by the move, Victor didn't realize what she intended until she was pressing her lips to his cheek. He made a single soft sound of surprise and tensed as she pressed against him in reaching for his face, hating himself for not wanting her to pull away as her wet shift did nothing to keep the smooth feel of her skin from his arm and hand.

For just an instant, as he looked down at her when she drew away, his mask slipped and his longing for her and the loneliness buried inside him shone out like a ray of light escaping a hooded lantern - then it was gone and the mask back in place.

Curious, Grey thought. She had always liked the feel of Victor's skin but she had imagined that it was because she had gone years without touching anyone. But she liked the warmth she had felt when he had looked at her like that, if only for a fleeting moment, even more. He had never looked at her like that, at least that she was aware of. And Grey had enjoyed the startled noise he made. She wondered if he would do it again if she kissed his mouth.

Probably the only thing that stopped her was the thought that if Victor felt something, why did he not act upon it? She was no lady of the court. She did not need flowers and poems. Grey remembered something she had told him nearly five years ago. The rule of the man was to take. If he wanted her, why didn't he take her? She knew now that she would not object.

She smiled awkwardly and then went to go put on her clothes behind the trees where she had left them. She stripped off the shift and happily pulled on the dry breeches and tunic. Maybe inspiration about what to do would come when they went hunting. She smiled again as she remembered her new crossbow and walked back to Victor, tying her wet hair back in a horsetail.

Victor tried not to watch as she changed and succeeded for the most part, but one glimpse of a tanned limb between two of the trees forced him to look away. His mouth went dry once more as he recalled the feel of her against him when she'd kissed his cheek, and it took the rest of the time that she was dressing to stop thinking about her as she'd come up out of the water. It was only when he heard her approach that he dared turn back towards her.

Grey gestured to the great forest and then pointed to her crossbow.

"Practice first. You need to know the weapon before you hunt." He set the crossbows down and hooked a line to the fish, anchoring it to a root and dropping it back in the water. "It will be here later," he continued. "Maybe a deer to go with it if you practice well."

Grey snorted. She would bring back two deer now, just to show him she was capable. Victor took up the crossbows again and she followed him to the part of the forest where they usually found a greater abundance of game. Once there, he carefully handed her the crossbow, avoiding contact with her hands she realized with a frown, and then demonstrated the proper stance for her. Grey nodded but she really didn't have to watch. She had seen how he stood with the weapon for years now, it was easy to duplicate.

She started to move into the stance and then an idea sprang into mind. So simple really. Grey silently laughed and moved into a similar but slightly incorrect stance. The deer could wait a few minutes.

Victor watched her closely, glad for the excuse to do so without guilt - or much of it, anyway. She handled the crossbow well, but her feet were off - if she fired from that position she'd not be able to manage the recoil and the bolt would go wide. "Feet closer together," he advised. "Left foot pointed at the target, right to the side."

Grey gave him a puzzled look and slightly moved her feet but, of course, the wrong way. Victor repeated what he had said and showed her the stance once more- in an almost comical slow fashion. Grey tried the stance again, this time perfect except that her hips were facing the wrong direction. Exasperated, Victor stomped over, dropped his crossbow, and physically positioned her into the correct stance. He seemed to realize what he was doing about the same time his hands moved to change the direction of her hips and he froze like a deer would the second it realized it had been spotted. Grey, her goal achieved, looked at him with a wicked smile.

Hands on her hips, Victor was trapped, frozen. The feel of her under his hands was dangerous, he knew that, but he couldn't pull away, couldn't move. He stood there, the heat from her skin soaking through the thin leather of her breeches into his hands, wanting more, knowing he could never have it, and unable to pull away.

Grey watched him, waited.

The smell of her: perspiration, damp hair, and some indefinable scent that was hers alone slipped into his head like a wisp of smoke, curling there and refusing to leave. He tried to move his hands and couldn't, tried to step away and couldn't, wanted to pull her closer and wouldn't.

She sighed. Victor wasn't going to do anything. He wanted to, at least she thought he did, but for some reason he wouldn't. Did he think she was naive? She had been an educated woman, once. Grey knew where everything went. She frowned and felt like crossing her arms. If anything, Grey wasn't stupid. She placed her hands lightly over his and pushed, making sure his hands slid over the curve of her hips before he could pull them away quickly.

Grey put a hand on her hip, already missing the feel of his palm there, and prepared to give him a long "dialogue" on her unhappiness about the whole situation. True, only a handful of the gestures had a real word behind them but Victor usually could guess the intention of the message. A rustling in the bushes stopped her, however, and she froze for a second before reaching down to collect the crossbow she had somehow dropped some time back.

Victor let out the breath he'd been holding forever slowly, his hands tingling from their slid across her hips and watched as she slipped a bolt into the crossbow and raised it. For a moment he found himself reaching for her again, and caught himself, hating the desire that prompted the gesture as much as the fear that stopped him.

She slid into a perfect stance, threw a somewhat bored expression at Victor, and then took aim and fired. The deer went down quickly and Grey moved passed Victor to make sure that it would not suffer longer than it had to.

Her aim was true, he noted as she moved past him, a part of him pleased in a way that was new to him. The deer had gone down instantly; it wouldn't run or fight as she eased its suffering with her knife. A clean kill, better than he'd made on his first deer so many years ago. He considered telling her, decided against it... and then thought about her eyes and the way they lit up when she was pleased.

Victor slipped up silently and watched as she finished her work, trying not to let his gaze linger on the way her snug breeches fit her as she knelt there. She needed new ones, he decided. Larger ones, that wouldn't show off the hips that his hands were still tingling from touching.

"You did good," Victor said crouching next to her so he wasn't distracted by the way her clothing fit. He tilted his head to the side, wolflike, so he could see her face and added, "Better than I did my first deer. I took two shots."

Grey widened her eyes in mock-horror and then smiled. Victor didn't give compliments unless they were true. Now she only had one more deer to go.

They hunted until the sun began to set, until finally Victor had to tell her that the light was too poor to continue. Grey scowled but admitted defeat. She looked in the direction of Laura's hut with consideration. They could make it there but it would be a few hours after dark. Better to sleep over at the small cave where he stored his weapons. That would only take a half hour. She gestured to Victor that they should go to the cave.

Victor eyed the darkening sky with it's heavy clouds and retraced their steps in his mind, trying to see another way, any way, that didn't involve spending the night with her in close quarters after the events of the day.

He couldn't.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes and nodded. The cave it was. The clouds were too heavy and he could smell the coming rain on the wind. The storm would be a bad one, the worst he'd seen in several seasons. At least the hut was in good shape after the repairs he'd made over the years. Sheltered by the small hill it backed into and the trees around it, Laura would be fine "We have to. Rain coming or we'd travel by night."

The look she gave him would have sent a wolf running in the opposite direction. Grey sniffed, turned, and began walking towards the cave. Laura would not be alarmed, she knew. The old woman never was when she was with Victor. Men, she thought with a sneer. Grey planned to have an extensive 'conversation' with Laura about men, and Victor in particular, when she returned tomorrow morning.

"819 - Huntress" Part 2 of 2

Primary Cast:

Victor Demonsson
Grey The Thief
Laura Harper

****

Galaxia
The Dark Woods
Victor's Cave

Victor watched her stalk off, shouldered the deer, and followed. Small as the cave was, there was no way he could avoid her all night, especially with her distressing tendency to move closer and closer to him in her sleep. It was going to be uncomfortable, but better that than trying to travel in the storm. The trip to his cave went quickly, even with the deer and his thoughts, and in less than an hour the sound of the waterfall was slipping through the trees, welcoming him.

The small glade was private - buried in the deepest part of the Dark Woods, and accessible only by three narrow trails, only one of which Poppet knew. Victor had worked to block off all other access to the glade over the years since finding it, starting landslides, moving fallen trees, and doing anything else necessary to ensure that his most private of places was his alone. There were traps on the trails that could be set to further ensure his privacy, but the path that Poppet knew had been cleansed of them after he'd caught her following him.

As he moved into the glade, Victor paused, letting the peace that always filled it wash over him. The waterfall wasn't large, forty feet or so, but it fell into a pool large enough to swim in. Dense tree growth lined the sides of the pool, and mossy roots plunged into it thirstily, providing easy handholds in and out of the water. The rocks at the base of the waterfall sent a fine spray into the air as the falling water crashed into them, obscuring the carefully hidden path he had made to lead to the cave behind the falls. This was his place, the one he returned to time after time to let the stink of man be washed away, leaving only the wilderness to remain inside him.

Ahead, Poppet was dancing from rock to rock, making a game of the slick stones as she always did, and he had to close his eyes for a moment to still the ache that welled up inside him. She was not for him, no one was. He knew that, but knowing didn't make the ache any less.

She stopped on top of her favorite jagged rock and frowned slightly at the configuration before her. He was always changing it, she noticed.

"I moved the slippery stone," he called out as she neared the path, warning her. "It's to the left of the red rock now, not by the green one."

She jumped over it, started to smile at her success, which was when her foot misstepped. Grey blamed the weight of the crossbow as she fell, but it was probably because she had been distracted by scheming of ways to test this new power she felt on Victor. Grey gave a loud yelp, which sounded suspiciously along the lines of "Ow!", and kicked the rock angrily with her foot. She stood up, wobbled, and sat back down again. She glared up at Victor. This was somehow his fault.

Victor winced. He'd found the slippery rock the same way originally, and had moved it here to help keep people away from the cave. He didn't know anything about it other than the fact that it was almost impossible to stand on without falling when it was wet. Barefoot, booted foot - it didn't matter. As soon as you put weight on it, down you went.

"Wait," he called out, picking up his speed a little. If she'd hurt her ankle, trying to navigate the rocks would just make it more likely she'd really injure herself. The image of her, twisted leg with bone showing through the skin came to his mind and he shoved it aside, would not contemplate it.

She snorted. You can't even touch me, she thought. Let alone carry me anywhere. Grey exhaled, stood, and worked at regaining her balance.

She wobbled again, started to fall - and a familiar strong arm was suddenly around her, supporting her as Victor caught her and lifted her up. "I said to wait," he grunted, using the need to concentrate on his footing to help ignore how she felt next to him as he started down the path, deer on one side and her on the other.

Grey squirmed a bit in his grip. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had carried her and she felt slightly outraged at the notion that anyone needed to. But his grip was solid and she reasoned that she really didn't want him to drop her face first on the ground anyway. So she frowned and wrapped her arms around his neck while he supported her body under one arm. Grey continued to scowl in annoyance. She knew her leg was fine, just a little sore, but trying to explain anything to stubborn, difficult, and unreasonable men was impossible.

Victor moved slowly, both to ensure he didn't fall, and, guiltily, because he liked the feeling of her arms around his neck. It brought to mind other thoughts he'd had, thoughts where her arms were around his neck and they were doing other things. He deliberately ran his calf into a rock, bruising it, to break free from those thoughts. She wasn't for him, and the sooner he accepted that the better.

Once past the path, Victor stopped to look back one last time and make certain they hadn't been followed. Seeing no one, he warned Poppet "Head down" and slipped between the rocks that hid the entrance to his cave and moved into the blackness.

She'd been here before in the past, though never carried inside. Grey looked back up and tried to adjust her eyes to the darkness.

Once through the narrow entrance, Victor turned to the right in the darkness, and laid the deer down on the rocks he knew to be there, then unslung his crossbow and set it on the table he had built from rocks and scavenged boards soon after finding the cave. "Wait," he said again, still carrying her, as he moved to the other table and gently set her down on the edge. "I'll make light, then look at your leg."

She held the edge of the table until the room was lit and then watched while he attended to her leg. He felt the bone carefully with hesitant fingers and then rotated the ankle gingerly. Grey gasped, not that it hurt. She suddenly felt the flutter that she supposed Victor felt when she touched him. And she liked it.

Victor stopped instantly at the sound, and looked up at her. "Sorry." His voice was still a deep growl, but there was a hint of urgency to it, as if it were important she understood he hadn't meant to hurt her.

Grey touched his arm, smiled to show him she was fine. No harm done. She leaned forward and moved her hand down her arm to rest on his, wondering what he would do.

Victor looked up at her until he was sure she wasn't putting on a brave face before he looked back down at the slender ankle he'd never released. "Let me know if it hurts again." The heat from her hand as it rested on his arm seemed all out of proportion to the size of it, but he forced himself to concentrate on her ankle instead. If she were hurt, he'd have to do more for her and the old woman, and that gave him an odd mixed feeling.

Grey titled her head. Victor's examination would be over soon and she didn't want that. She made a whimpering sound and tried not to roll her eyes at how pathetic she sounded.

He slowly explored the ankle again before trying to rotate it once more, even slower this time. "Hurt?" he asked, as he shifted it one way and then the other. Hurt here?"

Grey pouted her lip out and nodded. She would have made a good performer in one of those traveling troupes, she decided. He rotated her ankle the other way and Grey, in a sudden inspiration - she was having her best ideas when his hands were on her, she realized with some amusement -suddenly shook her head and pointed to her thigh.

Grey tried her best not to smirk when his mouth slightly dropped. She fingered the waistband of her breeches and looked at him with wide, innocent eyes.

Victor stared for a moment. The ankle was something that wasn't too dangerous but that high up on her leg? His mouth was suddenly dry again. If she was hurt, he had to know, but the thought of her unclothed like that was enough to let his mask slip again, and the feelings behind it leak out for a second.

Well, if he wasn't going to object. Grey started to unfasten them.

"Wait." He started to straighten up, and reached for her hands instinctively, not really realizing where they'd be until they were slipping around her waist and her slim fingers were closing over his hands, trapping them there. The touch of her fingers on his skin, and the feel of her waist and hips under his hands were intoxicating, terrifying, and he leaned forward slightly, drawn to her irresistibly.

She wanted to grin but somehow it had become too serious for smiles and laughter. Victor had moved forward slightly, was touching her of his free will but wasn't close enough for her liking. Well, that was easily fixed. She moved her legs and pulled him closer gently, a knee touching slightly on both sides. She had the absurd thought that if she grabbed on to him it would look like a piggy back ride in reverse. Grey moved to kiss him....

The movement of her head was enough. He hadn't been able to pull away as she shifted, hadn't been able to stop her as she'd drawn him closer, hadn't wanted to stop. He wanted this, wanted her - and he couldn't have her. She didn't know what she was doing, didn't know what she was asking. But he did.

He forced himself to take a step back, to pull his hands away from her carefully, hating himself for being strong enough to do it. "Leg looks all right," he said, his voice harsher than he'd intended.

Grey nearly fell forward. She stopped herself and then made a sound of protest.

Victor turned away, and started to shift things around on the table by his crossbow, unable to look at her for a moment and not step back, not take what his blood was screaming for him to from her. "Be more careful. That was dangerous."

Grey stuck her tongue out at him and let herself carefully down from the table. The ankle was a bit tender but otherwise fine. She walked towards where they would be sleeping, not caring if he realized that she had been pretending, and sat down in a huff.

"You shot well," Victor offered into the silence after a moment, his eyes checking her reaction to the compliment with a sideways glance.

Grey pointedly looked away from him, even though she enjoyed the compliment.

"You hunt well, too." He set his crossbow aside and picked hers up to clean it. She looked better, anyway. He wondered what it would take to make her smile, but pushed the thought away when he realized it led to thinking of the way she'd looked with her face tilted up to him a minute earlier. He was not for her.

Victor watched her out of the corner of his eye in the lamplight, saw the mist of her breath and a suppressed shiver, and frowned. Her clothes were wet from the fall, he realized, and it was cool in the cave. Too cool - she'd be sick if she kept them on. He hated knowing what he had to do, hated knowing that he wanted to see her the way he had at the river again, and hated knowing what it would cost him. He set her crossbow down and looked at her. "Clothes off."

Grey raised an eyebrow.

"Clothes wet. Cave's cold." He pointed to the small chest that he stored his spare clothing in. "You need dry ones."

She gave him a mocking smile and quickly had the tunic off before he had the chance to turn away. Grey took off the breeches as well, making sure the movement and the sound of them being tossed on the cave floor was clearly audible. She knew where he kept his spare clothing and padded towards them, well aware that she was in the line of Victor's vision if he turned his head slightly to the right.

He hadn't expected her to be so swift. Poppet had her tunic off, and his mouth was dry again before he knew what was happening. He forced his eyes away, trying to deny his reaction to the sight of her bare skin in the lamplight, even though he knew it was useless. She was beautiful, and he wanted her like nothing he'd wanted in his life. And she wasn't for him.

He tried to not turn his head slightly and look as he heard first her boots and then her breeches hit the floor with a damp 'thump' and her bare feet moving on the stone of the cave's floor. He tried not to look as the shadow of her form moved along the wall in front of him. He tried not to - and did it anyway.

She moved lithely, bare skin turned to gold by the lantern's light as he watched her, wishing he were human, wishing her were a part of the world of man so he could take what he wanted and feel nothing but the pleasure it would give him. His hands were still, fingers tight on the edge of the table as she knelt to open the chest and rummaged inside it.

She took her time and he guiltily drank in every moment of it as she removed first one tunic and then another, holding them up to her as if selecting a fine gown. When she finally found one that she liked, she set it aside and stowed the others away before standing with her choice, and he suddenly realized that he'd not breathed in over a minute.

Grey slipped on his tunic, which came to about mid thigh, and then went back to the furs that he had placed down for sleeping. She snuggled underneath one, yawned, and then gesture for Victor to follow.

Victor closed his eyes and took a slow breath, suddenly afraid. If he slept with her, he knew what she'd do, knew that she'd move closer until she was next to him, knew that she'd slip a cold foot between his legs to warm it as she always did... and feared what he'd do in response.

With a sigh he hoped she hadn't heard he stood, and moved to place the wooden shield around the lantern that kept the light from shining out through the cave mouth. He'd seen it from outside once, the light spearing out through the waterfall at night, making it a fall of diamonds. The shield was in place the next morning.

He collected her wet things and hung them on the shield to dry in the lantern's heat, then moved to take his own damp clothes off as the first rumbles of the storm sounded outside over the waterfall.

She supposed it would have been decent to look away while he stripped but she didn't. Grey admired him openly, not that he would have noticed because he refused to look her way. She wondered again at this concept of decency. Victor had explained to her a long time ago that he was not a part of the world of man and yet he still held some of their sillier values it seemed.

After he'd hung his leathers to dry, Victor slipped into the old breeches he'd pulled from the chest and dimmed the lantern. Bracing himself, he looked over towards Poppet. "Need anything? Water?"

She shook her head, scooted aside for him. Grey couldn't help but chuckle as he lay with his back to her, but when he made a point of scooting away from her she made an irritated noise and decided she would make a point of not sleeping close to him.

Her resolution lasted at most an hour. The furs were warm but the chill of the cave, along with the rain, seemed to seep through them. Finally, she growled slightly and rolled towards him. She pressed her body into his back and made sure the furs were tucked around them so as to not let any air. Victor began to argue and Grey felt on the verge of yelling at him to grow up. She wondered if she even could form the sentence.

Victor had almost relaxed enough to let himself drift into what passed for sleep for him when he felt her stir and move closer, pressing against him. The feel of her as she snuggled up was indescribably, as if something missing had suddenly become right, and a part of him relaxed inside even as the greater part of his mind dreaded the rest of the evening in such close contact with her.

Her arm slipped around him as she shifted the furs, and conveniently stayed there, draped around him so that her fingers were pressed against the bare skin of his chest. For a moment he was still, unwilling to move and disturb the moment, unwilling to lose the vision of them moving under the furs in a different manner that filled his thoughts. Finally, hating himself, he bit his lip and frowned, saying, "Poppet, no," as he started to shift and pull away.

Grey grunted as he moved, Victor made a nice heat source, and she locked her arm tighter around him. She couldn't understand why he was being so bloody difficult. If he didn't want to couple with her then fine but she was cold, *he* was probably cold, and it was practical for them to hold each other. He started to squirm again and she moved her head and gave a quick kiss on his back, her lips managing to find a smooth part that wasn't marred by scars. Victor froze. Grey smiled and snuggled towards him again.

The touch of her lips was like a brush from a flame, sending a wave of heat racing up and down his spine as if a fire had started there. He shivered once, froze, and let her pull him back down into the furs and her embrace, forgetting even to breathe for a moment as the rush of heat passed through his entire body, warming him.

Victor was still for a minute or so and then he seemed to shake himself. He began to move once again and Grey sighed, continued to hold him, and placed a slower kiss on his back, her lips this time lingering longer so that they would warm the skin where her breath did not touch. It had the desired effect. Victor made a strangled sound and stopped moving. Grey smirked and snuggled again.

This kiss was worse than the first, the slow lingering pressure making the muscles in his back tighten until he thought his skin would tear, and causing him to let all the air in his lungs out in a gasp. He wanted her to kiss him alike that again, to kiss his chest like that, to kiss his lips... No, that way wasn't for him. She wasn't for him. No one was.

He slowly forced his breathing to relax, tried to slow the pounding of his heart, but with no luck. He couldn't slow the racing of his heart, couldn't stop the heat the spread through him from where they touched, separated only by the thin cloth of the tunic she wore and the old breeches he did. He wanted more, wanted to turn and take her in his arms, to be, for that one moment, part of the world of man and take what he knew was not for him.

Grey sighed in contentment. She yawned slightly, trying not to breathe on Victor. Although he had finally stopped moving, she could feel his heart beating quickly between them. She felt herself drifting towards sleep. She would have to exact some plan of revenge for him tomorrow.

If he wouldn't take the initiative, would have to!

Victor felt her relax and heard her breathing slow as she slipped off to sleep, all the while hoping that she would kiss him again, that she would shift just a little and give him the one push he'd need to break his resolve... and hated himself for that wanting. He closed his eyes and tried to relax - and couldn't. He tried to think of something else, anything else - and couldn't. Finally, he tried to slip out from under her arm and escape, to give himself time and space to think.

Damn him, she thought sourly awakening from whatever sleep she had almost achieved. She made a little grunt of protest and then moved quickly as punishment.

Victor shivered as her cold foot slid down his leg and between his calves, stealing heat from him as it robbed him of his determination to move. He shivered again as her hand slipped across his chest, muscles tightening under her touch. He wanted more, needed more, burned for more - and prayed that she wouldn't give it to him.

She pressed her body tightly to him, moved her leg so that if wrapped over his, and began to sneak her hand lower on his chest and towards his stomach and other places...

Trapped by the leg pinning his that suddenly had seemed to increase in mass until it was as heavy as lead, he felt his eyes widen as her hand slipped lower, and a faint noise slipped from his lips. He tried to move his hand to capture hers and stop it - and couldn't. He set an imaginary point where he would reach down and stop her - and let it pass, unopposed. He shivered and wondered why his body wouldn't obey him, even though he already knew the answer: he really didn't want it to.

Victor was trying to say something but failing admirably. Grey stopped her hand just short of its destination and brought it slowly back to his shoulder. She pulled on it gently, asking him to turn over.

He relaxed slightly as her hand withdrew, the ache of disappointment matching his relief at her decision to stop exactly, leaving him poised on a knife's edge, unable to decide which way to fall. As she tugged, he let her roll him over, a sudden chill of mixed anticipation and fear at what she was doing running through him.

Grey smiled, moved into him so that her body was pressed close to his, sighed softly as she felt him against her, and moved to kiss him and claim him as her own.

As she moved closer, her intentions plain and her lips hot on his, Victor shivered again. He couldn't do this. She was not for him. She was not for... She was not.... She was... No. He shook himself free. She was not for him.

He grabbed onto the idea, repeated it over and over again as her hands slipped over his chest and her lips made his head swim with wanting her. She was not for him. No one was for him. She shouldn't do this. He couldn't do this...

He made a single, pained sound and pushed her away, rolling free from the furs and onto his feet. She was not for him. He had to remember that. She was not for him.

Grey smacked the furs in annoyance, sat up, and glared at him. She pointed at him and then the furs with her finger.

"No." Saying the word was the hardest thing he'd ever done in his life. He took a step back and turned away, unable to bear the look in her eyes, hating himself with a passion that he'd never felt before for making her feel what he'd seen there. "You're... not for me."

Grey rolled her eyes. She began to gesture at him but then realized his back was turned toward her. She clapped to get his attention but the dark man refused to turn back to her. Grey gritted her teeth and got out of the now semi-warm bed. She walked over to him and stood in his path of vision, if he looked up that is, and crossed her arms.

He stopped, eyes looking everywhere in the shadows except at her face, finally settling on her feet as the only safe place. "No," he whispered, praying that she'd understand, that she wouldn't ask again and force him to repeat it.

There was that word again. Grey growled slightly and reached up and grabbed him by the chin, not entirely gently either. Say it to my face coward, she wanted to say.

Victor looked into her eyes, seeing the hurt that filled them, the desire hiding behind that, and the anger that was rising to blot both the other two out. He was painfully aware of her body as she stood in front of him, of the way it filled out the old tunic, of the way it had looked in the lamp light as she changed, of the way just being this close to her made him feel. She was not for him, he repeated, wanting the words to be a lie as he formed them in his head.

"No," he forced out, knowing what the words were going to cost him, knowing what they would do to her, grieving for the loss of something he'd never known. "You are not for me."

She frowned slightly and reached out to take his hand. Grey couldn't think of another way to make him understand. If he wasn't for her, then who was? She didn't want anyone else.

He couldn't bear the sight of her eyes any longer, couldn't stand to see the hurt on her face, knowing that he'd put it there. With a jerk, he pulled his head free from her grasp and moved past her in a silent rush, out into the darkness of the passage. She was not for him. No one was.

Grey watched him leave, feeling like he had shot her with one of his arrows. The very thought that he would deny her infuriated her, but the thought that he was repelled by her made her heart feel like it would crack into a thousand pieces. Upset, but not foolish enough to rush from the cave in the storm, she retreated to the furs and hoped he would return.

Outside, his thoughts clearing with distance, Victor huddled under part of the overhang and watched the storm. The lightning crackling across the sky and the thunder booming after it suited his mood perfectly, and he found himself drawn out into the rain to stand on the rain-slick rocks, his head thrown back, and vent his anger at himself and his frustration at wanting something he could never have so much that it hurt with roar after roar that challenged the fury of the storm.

Victor stopped challenging the storm only when it abated, only then letting himself sink to a sitting position and watch the skies as they slowly cleared and the dawn crept over the trees in the distance. Only then did he sigh and turn back to the cave. Poppet would be awake soon - and furious with him. Better to be dressed and ready for her anger than not.

She awoke to hear him moving about the cave. Grey grunted and sat up. It had been a bad night's sleep; she had been cold and irritated. Grey got up from the furs and went to retrieve her clothes, now dry. She would change outside. If he didn't want her or even to see her, then he would get his wish. She stalked around the cave, collecting clothes and crossbow, and then left without even acknowledging Victor.

Victor watched her go, finished his own preparations, and shouldered the deer that Poppet had shot the previous day. He would have to follow her, she was too angry to watch out for trouble, and that was when it always found you. With a final look around the cave, and a single hesitant moment as he touched the furs still warm from her bosy's heat, he shook himself and followed her. She was not for him. No one was.

No matter what he wanted.

Year 821

[BACK POST]

“Freedom, Part Two of Four”

By Ethan Suder
Dhanishta Eshe
Appearing Chandrakala Lakshmi Eshe (Baroness K’vol)

Ethan had been travelling for a few days. But he had arrived at his destination, the manor where Chandrakala lived. On the back of Ethan’s horse was a body he had acquired from a victim of a plague of some description. The body had been wrapped in dark coloured clothes. He moved his horse around the back of the manor and jumped off. Looked up, he saw what he guessed was Chandrakala’s room. That is where she would escape out of if the timing went well. Now he had to do his part.

Ethan moved to the front and began strolling through the courtyard. There were two people who noticed Ethan approaching and began walking towards him. “Stay where you are!” Ethan warned. “I’m here to challenge the Baron. A duel.” He demanded. The guards looked at each other and then one stepped closer to Ethan. “Get out of here!” he ordered. “The Baron will not fight you today. He has more important things to take care of than to deal with a drunk like you, however, if you’re looking for a fight,” the guard said drawing his sword, “I’d be happy to oblige.”

Ethan watched the man approach him. With a quick swift motion, the guard made a good attempt at stabbing Ethan. But he quickly stepped to the side, grabbed the guards head and twisted as fast and hard as he could.

The other guard and Ethan heard a large snap and crack noise as the first guard dropped to the ground with a thud. Ethan glared at the guard who was unsure about what to do. He fumbled around trying to draw his own sword.

Ethan drew his sword and approached the guard. Swing his arms down towards the guard, the man screamed in pain as he leg was slice open with Ethan’s blade. Slicing the other leg, Ethan continued approaching the manor. Hopefully, the guards screams of pain would wake everyone else in the manor up and they would come to investigate.

He smashed open the front door leading into the manor. He saw several torches on the wall to provide sufficient lighting in the large lobby area. Ahead of him were stairs leading up and curving round to the right and left, obviously leading to different wings of the house and rooms too. But on the ground floor, there were several doors.

Within seconds of entering the manor, two guards from the first floor began making their way down the steps, other guards came out of rooms on the ground floor. “Is this all that stands in my way?” Ethan laughed. “He felt slightly embarrassed. He had never done anything like this, but was all part of the show, part of the plan. “You feeble guards need a real hero to show you how things are down.” Ethan spat at them. He raised his sword and counted the guards approaching with their own swords. Six in total, more on the way no doubt.

A second later, Ethan launched himself towards a guard impaling the guards stomach with his sword. As a second guard ran towards him, Ethan punched out with his fist and then kicked the guards face causing him to stumble back. Ethan pulled his sword out of the guard he had stabbed and began his assault on the other guards. He was relentless in his attack and defence, managing to score several fatal blows to three of the guards. The remain two regrouped and wiped sweat off their heads.

Ethan walked away from them towards the wall and picked up a torch from its holder. It was slightly heavy, made of metal, and burning away at the top.

One of the guards nodded to the other, who ran across the hall and through a door, no doubt running to get more guards.

“Just you and me then. Let’s make this interesting.” He said walking towards one of the windows. “I think we need some more lighting.” Ethan taunted moving the torch into one of the large curtains that covered a very large window.

The curtains immediately caught fire and began spreading slowly. The guard charged towards Ethan and was blocked by the torch that he last saw coming towards his face.

He closed his eyes and dropped to the floor to avoiding being burnt. Ethan took this opportunity as an advantage and swung his sword down, impaling the guard’s back. He felt his sword make contact with the floor beneath the guard and pulled it out.

He moved over to several other windows and began lighting the curtains with the torch. He could smell the nasty stench of burning materials and the lobby was now filling with smoke.

Ethan began making his way through the manor towards the Baron’s main chamber.

Chandrakala had heard the noise and knew that Ethan had come for her, she graded her bag that contained a few things that she wanted to keep and some of her clothes, just a small amount so that no one would notice when they surveyed the wreckage. She looked out the window at the courtyard below, it was empty, ‘Good’ she thought ‘no one will see me leave’.

Suddenly the door to her chamber opened with such force that it banged loudly on the wall, it would have bounced back and hit the person in the face if he hadn’t kept his hand on it. K’vol loomed in the doorway, a tall lanky man that Kala recognised as Hotchkins lingered behind him. Kala’s stomach knotted.

K’vol looked at her a fire blazing in his eyes, anger. “Where do you think your going?” he asked looking at the bag.

Kala froze, she had not expected the baron to confront her. “I…I ,” she stammered.

“Mr Hotchkins here,” he said gesturing to the man behind him, totally ignoring her stammering, “has been telling me a great tale. I hoped to come here and let the man see for himself that he was wrong. And for his lying he was willing to face death. But it looks to me like he is telling me the truth. You are planning to leave me.” He said.

Kala shook her head, unable to speak.

“He also tells me that you are planning to run off with a heathen. And that you have lain with him.” He continued advancing on her. “That the child in your belly is his and not mine.”

‘Where did he hear this?’ Kala thought, ‘surely he did not hear us discussing this in the woods, oh God! He must have.’ She wanted to run but fear gripped her, holding her feet to the ground.

“Well?” the Baron roared.

Something came over her, she had had enough of being afraid of this man, of bending her will for him, sure the beatings had stopped when they found out she was pregnant, more of a shock for her than them. She had truly had enough. “Why on earth would you question that?” she asked with sarcasm in her voice, “You have lain with almost every girl and woman in this Town and not one of them has grown your seed. For over a decade I have lain with you, it is not for lack of trying that I have not given you an heir. And it is not my fault that your family line ends with you. T’is you that can not reproduce, not me.”

K’vol roared with rage and back handed Kala so hard that she bounced on the floor, hitting her head a total of three times. She did not move. K’vol was about to pound on her more when his attention turned. Hotchkins looked on with glee, he was a little annoyed that he could not join in on the thrashing of Chandrakala but watching was good enough, for now.

“What is that noise?” K’vol asked Hotchkins. “I do not know.”

K’vol moved past him and looked down the corridor. Locking Chandrakalas door he walked down the corridor. Several guards raced up, “Baron there is an intruder. We thought you were hurt.” He said breathlessly. “Kill him.” K’vol replied shortly. The guards ran off. K’vol turned to Hotchkins but the hall was empty.

Ethan looked back down the corridor. There were open doors to the rooms that he had checked, but they were not the rooms he was looking for. Lying in the corridor were four men who were either seriously wounded or dead. The fire from the front of the manor had spread now and was engulfing everything in its way. Within the next couple of minutes, it would be spreading down the corridor. No escape now, he had to push forward. He made his way to the end of the corridor and slammed it open with his boot.

He saw two guards standing by a room, two other guards running down towards him, one of which ran away from the lobby earlier, clearly to warn others of Ethan’s presence.

Ethan defended himself with his sword from the attacks of the guards and managed to slice the throat of one of the guards who fell to the floor. The two guards who were guarding a room began walking down the corridor drawing their own swords. They wore light armour. ‘The Baron’s guards.’ Ethan thought.

~Sometimes Life Makes You Want to Jump~

Cutter Karan
James Corgan
Tessie (aka T'lan)

In the year 821,

On a bright and sunny afternoon, a day that overshadowed the seething tensions of a kingdom on the brink of war, Jamison 'James' Corgan partook on a casual stroll in the countryside. The wind was warm and soft against his face, and the clouds were few and far between. Spring forced the growth of greenery, as tall oaks and short brushes exploded with fresh, jade leaves. Insects buzzed in and out of brightly colored flowers and birds flitted through the air.

Hard to believe that war could inevitably break out, but it was Galaxia, and it was the year 821. With the death of the King, and two rivals pulling the fiefdom of Galaxia apart, the fertile land could be soaked with the blood of knights at any moment.

It put James Corgan at a state of unease. It had been a year since The Swan and Sword burned down, thanks to a riot caused by the supporters of both Duke Price and Duke Hoth. Ever since, James wandered Galaxia for odd work, general labor, dock working, and even becoming a farmhand. All brutal work, all unengaging. His life had become dull.

But only because he let current events fly past, out of control. Now neighbors were pitted against each other, to the point where James couldn't even buy a loaf of bread without being suspected of being a supporter for either Duke. But when he said he was neutral, the treatment got so much worse...

He didn't want to think about politics. Not now, not until he met up with an old friend.

**************

"Cutter, are you done trying to tinker with that.... contraption?" Tessie questioned her companion with a mirthful, yet cold air.

Cutter perked up his head to glance at the young woman next to him. Tessie was a bower and therefore an expert at working with sturdy, but flexible, lightweight, curved pieces of wood. She was a perfect assistant for this special project, but she was not as enthused about it as Cutter was.

"Not quite. Engineering is a very specific science. Everything has to be just so, you know that," Cutter said. He was working with his right hand, checking the strength of the glue on the wing that was strapped around his left arm. Cutter and Tessie had worked together for the last two months assembling this set of wings and a back up, stored at Cutter's woodshop in town. The wing he wore, half of the set, was just over four feet long, and about two and a half feet wide. It was constructed out of wooden skelatal frame, tightly covered by the thinnest cloth the town weaver could produce.

"You know how I feel about your flying machine." Tessie looked ruefully at the canvas and wood glider, "Logically, a heavier than air device will not be able to fly, much less for as long as you expect it."

He laughed, "Tess, a swallow is heavier than air. If you've ever taken the trouble to weigh a bird, you would know that. Obviously, the secret to flight does not lie in the weight of an object. You've seen my sketchings, birds fly with their wings. Therein, lies the secret. But, wings are like arms, correct? We have arms, and yet, we cannot fly."

Tessie added, "One could say that the human body does not have the proper appendages for flight. An average human's musculature is too heavy for the amount of thrust flapping one's arms could produce. A bird, however, would have the proper amount of mass and muscle to lift itself into the air with ease. Also, we must put into account the amount of space the bird's wings occupy, as compared to say... the average dockworker's arms, in a ratio to arm space and body mass. All and all, it is simple. Humans cannot fly with their current physiology. Birds can. I do not see how we can change that."

"It is the shape of the arm, or wing, that allows flight. A bird's wing is usually very large, and flat! There is a lot of surface area, to catch the winds, like a sail on ship! Now, what we have built here are very large, flat wings, and with them, I should be able to catch the winds over this field as easily as any swallow."

"Cutter, think reasonably about this." Tessie begged as she held the wing, "There are too many variables at stake here. You have to have light enough wood that won't break. Have you ever tried making arrows out of willow branches or mahogany? It is either too light or too heavy, or not strong enough or too strong. Then there is the cloth. The wrong cloth is like selecting a chicken feather instead of a goose feather on an arrow. If you don't get it right... it'll never fly. And neither will you."

But, Tessie's objections fell on deaf ears. Cutter had finished checking what he wanted on the wing that was strapped to him. He wiggled his left arm, slowly moving the wing up and down, forward in back, before turning to his companion. "Sweet, Tess. You're beautiful," Cutter smirked, with big, yearning eyes, "I should worship you forever, if only you would help me attach that second wing?"

She looked into Cutter's whistful eyes. She derived satisfaction from his 'dreamer's nature', but always fretted that his literal flight of fancy would prove disasterous. "Cutter, how can you worship me when your flying machine fails on you? It is best that I work with you on this." She pecked Cutter on the cheek, "Somebody has to make sure you land on the ground without being planted in it."

"It hasn't failed yet. You shouldn't be so pessimistic."

Tessie heard the knock at the barn door before Cutter could react. She glanced back, the second wing still in her hand. "Come in." She greeted, then darkened the tone of her voice, "Unless you're a tax collector."

"TESS! Still as cool and calm as ever?!?" Boomed James' voice from behind the barn door.

A small grin escaped Tessie's usually placid exterior. Why, it had been ages since Tessie saw James. Only six years, seven months, three days and four hours, fifteen minutes the last she recalled, putting into account the inaccuracies of water clocks and sundials (she excelled at memorizing mundane facts). She dropped the wing and rushed towards the door.

James looked different from when she saw him six years, seven months ago. His hair was longer and more golden, his face and chin rough with stubble instead of clean shaven and handsome, his clothes more dockworker fare than that of a brash, charismatic adventurer. He no longer carried the weapons of war, but instead a simple pouch on a belt. Though he changed, Tessie hugged her friend with a vice like grip, then let go.

"Ummm... I didn't think I was missed that badly." James quipped, glancing around at the barn. He spotted the glider, and asked, "Say, aren't you two a bit old to play with kites?"

Cutter was kneeling down at the delicate wing Tess had so carelessly dropped, inspecting it for any damage. "Tess! Why did you drop this? I think you cracked the secondary support! Ka, I hope it doesn't snap during the flight."

Tessie remained calm. "It is not a kite. It is an experimental heavier than air flying apparatus. With the power of a man's muscles, Cutter expects to achieve flight."

James looked blankly at the wooden frame, "Ummm... right. Well, it's great to see you again, Tess."

"Likewise, James."

"Hello. I'm Cutter," he said picking up the wing. He only glanced upwards briefly before returning his concentration to his experiment.

"Ummm... hiya." James remembered the name. It was sung in the local bars. In fact, he sang a version or two in The Sword and Swan (when it was still intact). It was all based on rumors of a man who wanted to be a bird. Was this the local legend, the one and only Bird Man? ~"Thought he would be taller... and strangely mutated."~ James pondered, ~"Oh well, there goes half the theories in this fiefdom."~

"James, you must tell me why you have come to visit." Tessie insisted.

A lump formed in James Corgan's throat. The real reason he came was for business. But business with him brought ill fortune. He gathered the nerve, and said, "Have you two checked out the local criers? Clouds of war are coming in. Price and Hoth are gonna chew up the entire fiefdom if we're not careful."

Tessie raised one of her 'curious' eyebrows. "I have heard the rumors. And the riots. However, it is of little consequence to us out here in the country."

"My house is in the city, as is my shop. I got taxed last year after being pestered about who I supported," Cutter offered, "but I've been spending most of my time lately out here in Tess's barn."

"Now hold on Tess!" James objected, "Like hell it won't affect you two! The riots paralyzed Galaxia! Merchants won't sell to certain people. Hell, nobody will take my coin because I don't support a side, period! Those Paladins are marching all over the place, and the town militia can't do a thing lest they be overrun. It's pure f**king anarchy, and that's not the worse of it. When Hoth and Price fight it out for our fiefdom's support, were gonna be in the middle. And that's something we have to discuss."

"And what do we discuss?" Tessie asked.

James replied, "Well, we can either choose a side or get the hell out of here. Since I can't choose a side, i'm going to get out of here while the gettin's good."

"You could pretend to choose a side," Cutter said, nudging Tess with the wing. He wanted her to finish helping him attach it. "Besides, James, right? Where would you go? Doubtless all of Lefedera will be affected by this war you speak of, what's left? Kling?"

"As a matter of fact, Kling would be the last place I ever go." James warily spoke. He remembered all the enemies he made in Kling during the mercenary days. It was one place where he would be pumped his body weight in arrows if he crossed into their borders. "Remuli?"

"I do not like Remuli." Tessie objected, slamming that option shut.

James replied, "Well... I don't know. Somewhere. Anywhere. Just as long as it isn't between the two Duke's knights. And I can't just choose a side. Half the town already knows i'm neutral, and they won't believe me if I choose. And besides, I can't choose! One's a p*ssy and the other's an @$$hole. How can I support either of them?!?"

Cutter simply shrugged, a silent response. He didn't concern himself with politics. He never had. The whole world passes by, but he's always been too busy watching birds.

Tess, too, appeared to offer James no advice, she simply finished attaching the wing to Cutter's arm. "Several hundred generations of man have inhabited this Earth since its creation, James, each having to deal with its own politics and wars. Man is still here. I'm certain you will survive, whatever your course of action. You always have," Tess said.

"Touche." James nodded. He had no reason to disagree there, but he wasn't finished, "but I don't think i'm going to care about several hundreds of generations of human adaptation when i'm trying not to get trampled to death by the Duke's knights. Stay if you want. I'm leaving this fiefdom and i'm not coming back until this whole King issue is resolved."

Tessie answered, "I cannot go."

"I think we're ready to try," Cutter said with a great smile. He was visibly very excited, he was about to be the first man to fly.

Tessie glanced skeptically at the flying device. "I must ask you again before you jump. Are you sure this is a wise course of action?"

"Tessie hasn't steered me wrong before." James looked down nervously, imagining what sort of excrutiating pain awaited the hapless fool and his wooden wings, "She might actually know what she's talking about. Better not do this, Cutter. I'd hate to make and lose a friend on the same day."

"The winds are blowing pretty well outside. That should help me get off the ground," Cutter said, moving to the back of the barn towards the ladder. "I'll jump from the loft." After a few steps up, he spoke again, adding, "There's a pile of hay just below, Tess, so I won't hurt anything." He looked rather silly, making his way up the ladder with two large wings strapped to his arms. Their size was awkward, forcing him to slowly swing his arms back and forth for balance, like the pendulum of a clock. Tess and James followed reluctantly behind.

When they had both climbed the step ladder, Cutter already stood at the edge of the loft window. The wind was blowing directly in the barn, a nice, steady breeze. Cutter's dark black hair flapped in the wind, as did his clothes; he stood into it, his chest out slightly, his arms (wings) apart, his eyes closed and his mouth ajar in a curious expression of ecstacy. After a moment, he turned to face James and Tessie. "All right. Here we go," he said quickly, the pitch of his voice climbing throughout the statement.

~"This is gonna be messy..."~ James sighed to himself, watching the spectacle unfold.

He turned back to the window, and stepped forward so that only his heels remained in the barn. He stretched out his arms, the attached kites making them longer than the breadth of the window. He seemed to stand there for ages, pumping courage through his veins before finally, suddenly, he leapt.

All at once, Cutter was airbourne. The sensation stunned him a bit, and it took some effort to force his arms to pull downwards. It was hard, like trying to slap a plank of wood through a table, but with all of his strength, he pushed down. And he could feel the resulting acceleration upwards. He was flying!!

In an instant, he was gone from view. Tess ran forward after the unsure shouting had echoed into the window, and slowly peered over the side. Cutter was lying face down in the mound of hay on the ground below. His wings were splayed out, as were his legs, like he had splattered all over the ground. "Cutter! Are you all right?"

"Oh sh*t... he actually did it!" James cursed as he bolted for the ladder going down from the loft.

The human perception of time is quite an amazing thing, Cutter thought, as he stared at the blackness before him. It seemed like he was in the air for sometime, but then the earth came out of nowhere. Someone was shouting at him, from above. Slowly, he lifted his head to daylight and he could feel strands of hay cling to his face. "Yes, hello? Uh, I'm fine."

His mind raced. He thought of his flight, did he fly, even for a little bit? How long? How many flaps was he able to do? Were the wings okay? This last thought struck him and he panicked. He was afraid to move, but he could feel the wings attached to his arms. He couldn't put any weight on them, to assist himself upright, he was stuck on his stomach until someone could help him. He craned his head back, first to his left, then his right. They looked in good condition, their fall as cushioned by the hay as his.

James was first to help Cutter off his feet. He looked and felt around for wounds, and found none. Besides a rather purplish bruise on Cutter's shoulder, the birdman's first introduction to a solid earth impact could have been much more fatal. "Thank god you didn't break your f**king neck! Jesus f**king Christ, man! What the f**k possessed you to do that?!?"

Cutter looked at the man curiously, as if his question was one of the most absurd things he had ever heard. "Why, the wind," Cutter answered, "Beneath my wings. You want to try?"

"Well." James ruefully looked at Cutter, "It's better than becoming a mercenary in my old regiment. Come on. Get the hay out of your orifices so we can go inside. I think one crash landing's enough for a day, don't you?"

"Today? Yes, this test will suffice," he said. Then he looked over at Tessie, "We thought about this wrong! Tess, we make large birds. Large birds don't flap their wings, they hold them still! Tess! We have to reconfigure this. Attach the wings together, some support across the back should suffice. And supports for the rest of my body, too. Something holding my feet at the same level as the wings!

"But... Cutter! That will require more of that wood, which is hard to find as is!" Tessie protested.

But Cutter continued, ignoring Tess, "And we need somewhere taller to leap from! The steeple at the church near the town square, that would be perfect! Oh, we have so much work to do." And with that, he darted back inside the barn. Tess gave James a silent look, then followed behind.

James shrugged, muttering, "Knocked a cog loose in that fall if you ask me."

"Let me assure you," Tess said, "It was never there in the first place."

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