tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26789938487293497692024-02-19T09:16:01.487-08:00Summerdreamyangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.comBlogger67125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-49694584047621496602015-05-07T11:17:00.004-07:002015-05-07T11:17:45.774-07:00Chapter 12 on WordPress<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6h15Sa6zDpBlUcxcW6tipk-ih3nC1rQPVxkmVkE9twLhlUezNs-NFf7J5lvKGi04bNpdg46LJ8OabeQBwYTBT9aqRDGqG5IoxSJ_hvvJ4nqJJCNBrTbkLYwlR9w35Mry4mVsUzXLMmTNA/s1600/SDTitle2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6h15Sa6zDpBlUcxcW6tipk-ih3nC1rQPVxkmVkE9twLhlUezNs-NFf7J5lvKGi04bNpdg46LJ8OabeQBwYTBT9aqRDGqG5IoxSJ_hvvJ4nqJJCNBrTbkLYwlR9w35Mry4mVsUzXLMmTNA/s1600/SDTitle2.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><a href="https://summerdreamsims3.wordpress.com/2015/05/07/chapter-12-the-heart-of-the-dreamer/" target="_blank">Chapter 12: The Heart of the Dreamer</a></b></div>
yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-4882666753287989502015-04-21T13:59:00.003-07:002015-04-21T13:59:57.030-07:00Chapter 11 on Wordpress<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKQm1thiUCd7GAplLklRzi6_djqu-pKHUq1XVTEXwKG_tD_gI_ixgpAFk63hFQQlYJ-bsUlwXGZq6tGRxQVqOkzIvDHrrw6gqbZsSk2xVuqQ9Znl4UxkfbT5B2kzpQixF4UyYva7mKwhUE/s1600/SD11title.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKQm1thiUCd7GAplLklRzi6_djqu-pKHUq1XVTEXwKG_tD_gI_ixgpAFk63hFQQlYJ-bsUlwXGZq6tGRxQVqOkzIvDHrrw6gqbZsSk2xVuqQ9Znl4UxkfbT5B2kzpQixF4UyYva7mKwhUE/s1600/SD11title.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><a href="https://summerdreamsims3.wordpress.com/2015/04/21/chapter-11-consequences-of-pride/" target="_blank">Chapter 11: Consequences of Pride</a></b></div>
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yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-64529821788662741362015-04-12T14:18:00.000-07:002015-04-12T14:18:02.383-07:00Chapter 10 on WordPress<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia__qDIUy31HydLMXLMxAxZMjEi6AGOjFzUuoClUodHTjEfDirVYD45_m3rxgs0u24rGKqkaFAhEkaQeftAAajz2XVSszuIludRh3eNHJ6Br1yksHcC268d8QglFM-nHXcn_NZep8niSHT/s1600/SD10title.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia__qDIUy31HydLMXLMxAxZMjEi6AGOjFzUuoClUodHTjEfDirVYD45_m3rxgs0u24rGKqkaFAhEkaQeftAAajz2XVSszuIludRh3eNHJ6Br1yksHcC268d8QglFM-nHXcn_NZep8niSHT/s1600/SD10title.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><a href="https://summerdreamsims3.wordpress.com/2015/04/12/chapter-10-now-change-has-come/" target="_blank">Chapter 1: Now Change Has Come</a></b></div>
yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-5868447941367471382015-04-01T07:04:00.004-07:002015-04-01T07:04:57.090-07:00Chapter 9 on WordPress<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJvwI962SaZicO1K9wCAWzkM0EcitkjMvx4fr_f0OEabUhaRguNGv5w2OhDcvzyTKc2I2eNCBhoPl8MfNc-_pzvqeXPTxIAlHT9RnEwaLgDwwHEOgWTSyd3_kRRgtoJf8uG6BqIpU-RwKE/s1600/SD9title.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJvwI962SaZicO1K9wCAWzkM0EcitkjMvx4fr_f0OEabUhaRguNGv5w2OhDcvzyTKc2I2eNCBhoPl8MfNc-_pzvqeXPTxIAlHT9RnEwaLgDwwHEOgWTSyd3_kRRgtoJf8uG6BqIpU-RwKE/s1600/SD9title.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><a href="https://summerdreamsims3.wordpress.com/2015/04/01/chapter-9-a-debt-that-must-be-paid/" target="_blank">Chapter 9: A Debt that Must Be Paid</a></b></div>
yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-14484180024415790762015-03-28T07:30:00.001-07:002015-03-28T07:30:22.787-07:00Chapter 8 up on WordPress<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOWXiVtcdsjo1RBaxh_xjmHNMzITPdJJgRAr-SvWas6eiJm6dCG2-c0WnnnLTS086PaYZVhik2d27xsHfZ0-ZVrPK5xhiBlb0fLCTUXIvXSz9tfYEMHDpW52fzLGFMtu6kNeQhvSyRKYje/s1600/SD8title.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOWXiVtcdsjo1RBaxh_xjmHNMzITPdJJgRAr-SvWas6eiJm6dCG2-c0WnnnLTS086PaYZVhik2d27xsHfZ0-ZVrPK5xhiBlb0fLCTUXIvXSz9tfYEMHDpW52fzLGFMtu6kNeQhvSyRKYje/s1600/SD8title.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><a href="https://summerdreamsims3.wordpress.com/2015/03/28/chapter-8-glimmering-like-the-stars-in-nights-mantle/" target="_blank">Chapter 8: Glimmering Like the Stars in Night's Mantle</a></b></div>
yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-81435391881654941112015-03-17T20:35:00.001-07:002015-03-17T20:35:06.132-07:00Chapter 7 on WordPress<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQW0c-tKl9M4gadW_cwp38hEC4W2ra_btfX_nJfVEhThfa7PYKU0s15rnNEdsQpB0NoH_WQlJ5T_DeWWS3mnvVo70drGViHuKDgln3oyHq-gXjMytC7KWFlOVS6xsAffTW5I0pgnL_lKe8/s1600/SD7title.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQW0c-tKl9M4gadW_cwp38hEC4W2ra_btfX_nJfVEhThfa7PYKU0s15rnNEdsQpB0NoH_WQlJ5T_DeWWS3mnvVo70drGViHuKDgln3oyHq-gXjMytC7KWFlOVS6xsAffTW5I0pgnL_lKe8/s1600/SD7title.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><a href="https://summerdreamsims3.wordpress.com/2015/03/18/chapter-7-in-the-presence-of-the-divine/" target="_blank">Chapter 7: In the Presence of the Divine</a></b></div>
yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-32342490703541293032015-03-13T15:00:00.000-07:002015-03-13T15:00:22.470-07:00Chapter 6 on WordPress<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzoKQRCiCuVHWXsB8-dC4OnlnL9LRixRxZSjMkYirZqBmkW6LgZC9wDKTdJ2_lPkiuSFyl-2K40lpbRj5XvB0gXp8wzRn7r3LDH0m7xRPVVmb6dj-IX9Ic_W-0zfEV-X6RgNddrpGxtnpM/s1600/SD6title.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzoKQRCiCuVHWXsB8-dC4OnlnL9LRixRxZSjMkYirZqBmkW6LgZC9wDKTdJ2_lPkiuSFyl-2K40lpbRj5XvB0gXp8wzRn7r3LDH0m7xRPVVmb6dj-IX9Ic_W-0zfEV-X6RgNddrpGxtnpM/s1600/SD6title.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><a href="https://summerdreamsims3.wordpress.com/2015/03/13/chapter-6-as-you-have-seen-me/" target="_blank">Chapter 6: As You Have Seen Me</a></b></div>
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yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-38688240723281076222015-03-11T05:50:00.001-07:002015-03-11T05:50:30.761-07:00Chapter 5 on WordPress<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir7lTfkpIxw-a31i_RGpxXs3CxamNPfpoV0JMoXkCpvmJBc72f88X7eLXemSfiWJF9_nvp4vMeU6-A0Z_n2mi8PCdAS8oS3vUfXrXjLxaIcZMrq1kWsApkktL_5ZTw5-pDfUhDOKd-LP9s/s1600/SD5title.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir7lTfkpIxw-a31i_RGpxXs3CxamNPfpoV0JMoXkCpvmJBc72f88X7eLXemSfiWJF9_nvp4vMeU6-A0Z_n2mi8PCdAS8oS3vUfXrXjLxaIcZMrq1kWsApkktL_5ZTw5-pDfUhDOKd-LP9s/s1600/SD5title.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><a href="https://summerdreamsims3.wordpress.com/2015/03/11/chapter-5-a-strange-scent/" target="_blank">Chapter 5: A Strange Scent</a></b></div>
yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-47124528486982565662015-03-09T08:13:00.001-07:002015-03-09T08:13:12.880-07:00Chapter 4 on WordPress<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQVTkNFR_bVE0b8XYZphBMUt1-ebYrIm4PmAJwY4xshiaJ6oivmUORRDKZQXjfdAy6TbixxzspWrqM-iFtv9SETqmte0AjY5Z7FFHWzUfIWYqW_3uIjGHSuqO0PMOfOXoKw9SrMXJotQ8E/s1600/SD4title.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQVTkNFR_bVE0b8XYZphBMUt1-ebYrIm4PmAJwY4xshiaJ6oivmUORRDKZQXjfdAy6TbixxzspWrqM-iFtv9SETqmte0AjY5Z7FFHWzUfIWYqW_3uIjGHSuqO0PMOfOXoKw9SrMXJotQ8E/s1600/SD4title.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><a href="https://summerdreamsims3.wordpress.com/2015/03/08/chapter-4-the-hunter-and-the-hunted/" target="_blank">Chapter 4: The Hunter and the Hunted</a></b></div>
yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-37598096801165620612015-03-04T05:37:00.001-08:002015-03-04T05:37:29.249-08:00Chapter 3 on WordPress<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7kCEyVbv887XZ1o2S5zKJjUeGvDICx6gigaJFtq5YLvkr8fPpDZh2K9cmVfcZqisnnBiHCaG6v7meGJYSQnyPKOZ81O_rejE6Zt44QRbBeQyauXm6oUW_9LI11sQHpbm7PkJqh-9w0fJh/s1600/SD3title.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7kCEyVbv887XZ1o2S5zKJjUeGvDICx6gigaJFtq5YLvkr8fPpDZh2K9cmVfcZqisnnBiHCaG6v7meGJYSQnyPKOZ81O_rejE6Zt44QRbBeQyauXm6oUW_9LI11sQHpbm7PkJqh-9w0fJh/s1600/SD3title.jpg" /></a></div>
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Chapter 3 is upon WordPress:<br />
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<b><a href="https://summerdreamsims3.wordpress.com/2015/03/04/chapter-3-you-will-be-my-secret/" target="_blank">Chapter 3: You Will Be My Secret</a></b><br />
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Events play out much differently in this than in the original. =)</div>
yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-58120884848643382582015-03-01T06:59:00.002-08:002015-03-01T06:59:22.602-08:00Chapter 2 up on WordPress<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2sPEI8NMO53jQIqcEk3s8_LFR9yNb3_M_ZPX5WRPjrsef6iyRIi7db2k0WB8goZKb-k6ANy6qLGZRsXmcsnImSRrIS8aRdO1oI7pQZTl_GNxIlItD3j0OFLzbWI7I8daA_7lroWb45Emm/s1600/SDtitle2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2sPEI8NMO53jQIqcEk3s8_LFR9yNb3_M_ZPX5WRPjrsef6iyRIi7db2k0WB8goZKb-k6ANy6qLGZRsXmcsnImSRrIS8aRdO1oI7pQZTl_GNxIlItD3j0OFLzbWI7I8daA_7lroWb45Emm/s1600/SDtitle2.jpg" /></a></div>
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Blogger has decided to change their policy on adult content again so it is only 'commercial porn' that will be banned. However, I'm already invested in doing the rewrite and reshooting of Summerdream on WordPress, so I'm just going to continue on with that.<br />
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<b><a href="https://summerdreamsims3.wordpress.com/2015/03/01/chapter-2-in-the-light-of-day/" target="_blank">Chapter 2</a></b> is up on WordPress now.</div>
yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-52656842826022335182015-02-26T07:10:00.003-08:002015-02-26T07:10:48.940-08:00Summerdream is moving<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://summerdreamsims3.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Pkq75QfEg1vouxHZfeBWpoFwXqjQYf1-b7JZ8f-SuAXXzHgkZkMnqnzCTdQhsWF0gCUOzxsayYRQmxvEPa6ggopdGUd5io9SqV1nfVwfw0yfN4ebF2gub4f0iONx9BgLhdslfWArxNWv/s1600/Sd1title.jpg" height="425" width="640" /></a></div>
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As many of you know, Blogger is instituting a new policy starting on March 23rd. Nudity and graphic sexuality will no longer be allowed, and blogs that have such content will be set to Private, meaning you'd need my 'express permission' to view the blog.<br />
<br />
So, like many other Sim storytellers, I'm moving my story to another host, WordPress.<br />
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Summerdream is a few years old now, and there have been many times that I've wanted to go back and edit things, change things and generally, just rewrite the whole thing from scratch. So, I'm taking this forced move as an opportunity to present a whole new Summerdream, starting from Chapter 1.<br />
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For those of you who have already been reading Summerdream here, this retelling will be familiar, but there will also be substantial changes in the plot and character design. Some of those changes will be influenced by the comments you have made on chapters here. =)<br />
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So, here's the link to <b><a href="https://summerdreamsims3.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Summerdream</a></b> on WordPress. I hope you will all enjoy this new retellling of the old story.</div>
yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-83707032006916061612015-02-20T10:12:00.000-08:002015-02-20T10:12:47.715-08:00Chapter 54: A Place With No Name<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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"Lord Konan, be welcomed to Odet."<br />
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Reinier has not come to welcome his guests personally, it seems, sending instead his brother-in-law Gunteras, of the Goth family. Konan smiles to himself, thinking of the outrage his mother would profess this slight from Odet's lord, but for himself, he'd rather see as little as possible of the Landgraabs while he's here. "Lord Gunteras, well met," Konan speaks the proper, polite greeting he learned as a child, but with the gruffness of a soldier not used to such niceties.<br />
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"You and your men are to be quartered in the Keep," Gunteras continues, "But the witch is to be imprisoned before she stands trial in the morning."<br />
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The Landgraab guards step forward to take Sterren into custody. Konan, scowling, brings his hand to his sword. "My cousin is no base criminal," he growls, "You will not lay a hand on her."<br />
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"She is a witch!" the old priest accuses, "She cannot be allowed to walk free."<br />
<br />
"Be reasonable, Lord Konan," Gunteras pleads, "Our laws forbid witches within the towns walls. I promise you, she will not be harmed."<br />
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"Her guilt has been determined before your trial, then?" Konan demands, standing defensively in front of Sterren, "This is an outrage! I will not allow--"<br />
<br />
Sterren lays a hand on her brash cousin's arm. "I will go with them, cousin," she says.<br />
<br />
"Sterren," Konan begins to protest.<br />
<br />
"They wish a public trial, Konan. They will not harm me before that, cousin," Sterren assures him, "Do not give them an excuse to imprison us all."<br />
<br />
Reluctantly, Konan backs down, allowing the guards and the smirking priest to lead Sterren away. Gunteras, mouthing polite apologies for the necessity of the action, shows Konan and the rest of his retinue to their quarters.<br />
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Once away from Reinier's men, Morvyn and Kelyn, disguised by a glamour cast on them by Jennicor, approach the Avendale lord.<br />
<br />
"One of the fae, in the form of a raven, is following after Sterren. She will watch over her imprisonment, and inform us if she comes to any harm," Morvyn assures the man, "The plan is still unchanged. Kelyn and I will go now to scout for a good vantage of the scaffold where they hold their trials. We'll lie in wait there, and come tomorrow, when the dragon slayer is in view, we'll shoot him down. Then, we'll signal the dragons, who will create a distraction. During the chaos, you can rescue Sterren from the guards and flee to the forest's edge, to the place we marked for you. Kelyn and I will meet you there, and guide you through it back to your village."<br />
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<br />
Konan nods. The unexpected imprisonment of his cousin required no change to their plans, so long as no harm came to her before the trial. "These dragons, are you quite sure they'll come when you call? And that they won't attack us?" he asks the wilders, still nervous about this particular aspect of their plan. Trusting dragons to follow orders, to help people...as an Avendale, Konan was raised to be respect the power of the fair folk and accept their gifts when given. But dragons...it's still a bit too much, even for him.<br />
<br />
"Yes," Morvyn answers simply, "They wish the dragon slayer dead, and they know what they have to do." They had better, Morvyn thinks, wishing he could put as much trust in Paerys as he professed to this mortal.<br />
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Unlike the bare dungeon where Reinier had imprisoned Morvyn, Sterren is given a comfortable, if sparse, cell in the prison tower. She even has windows with a view of ornamental pond in the grounds below, if she cared to look.<br />
<br />
If all goes as planned, it will not matter if she is found guilty or not. If all goes as planned, Reinier will be dead before she is even sentenced. She is the bait meant to lure Reinier into Morvyn and Kelyn's view, so that might at last kill the dragon slayer they have long hunted. And his death will mean the end of war, and of witch hunts. She will not burn at the stake, as so many of her kind have, those who serve the Lady and refused to recant. But no matter how many times she tells herself that she will survive the day and return to Taran and their children, an uneasy feeling torments her.<br />
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With a groaning creak, the door opens, and he steps in, his guards behind him. How many years had it been since she'd last seen him? She had been pregnant then, and his wife still alive, suffering the first of her many miscarriages. The fairy curse had been meant for him, but poor Agneta Landgraab had borne the brunt of it. He had loved his wife, Sterren had seen that, and his suffering and his loss was writ clear on his face, more haggard than when they were young, his eyes dull, his mouth turned to a frown that seemed to be his natural expression now.<br />
<br />
Sterren cannot truly blame him for the hatred and mistrust of magic that grew in him since he was cursed, as he'd seen his wife and unborn children destroyed by its power. But like the fairy who cursed him, he did not care who else suffered when he unleashed his wrath, and his anger at the world had become a fire that threatened to engulf them all.</div>
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Despite all the damage he's done, the war, the death, she does still pity him, for what he's suffered, but while she might wish there was another way to stop him, Sterren knows that only his death will put an end to the misery he'd brought with him.<br />
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"Come," he orders, with no greeting, bidding her rise from her bed.<br />
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"I don't understand," she answers, her voice breaking in sudden fear. Did he mean to hold a secret trial in the cover of darkness? Did he know of their plans to assassinate him? Her eyes dart to Shayeleigh, disguised as a raven, perched on the windowsill, watching. Would the fairy be able to get word to Morvyn in time?<br />
<br />
"I wish to speak with you, before your trial tomorrow," Reinier tells her, relieving some of her distress. He did mean to go through with the trial as planned then, "I'd prefer we speak outside this prison." He gestures to her as he turns, his guards shift positions, indicating that they will drag her out of here if she doloes not come willingly. So, Sterren rises, and follows Reinier, under the watchful eyes of his guardsmen, as he leads her to the church.<br />
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He orders his men to stand guard outside, and takes Sterren's arm in a firm grasp as he leads her inside the church. A strange dread fills her, remembering how he once tried to force her to marry him in this very spot. Why would he bring her here, now?<br />
<br />
"Reinier, stop, please," she pleads, pulling away from his grasp, "Why bring me here? What do you want?"<br />
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He looks at her, his blue eyes focused on hers, a scowl twisting his face. "You had the chance, I gave you the chance, to renounce your superstitious demon worship, in this very spot. If you hadn't spurned me, if you had instead joined with me, all this war and destruction would not have been necessary."</div>
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Sterren's fear turns to anger at his unfair accusation, "You would blame me for your own actions?" she seethes, "You chose war, not I, and your lust for conquest would not have been abated even if were your wife."<br />
<br />
"Your followers cling to their false beliefs in your name," Reinier says, "If you had renounced such superstition, they would have followed."<br />
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"You are angry because I did not submit and thus make your conquest easier?"<br />
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Reinier sighs, rubbing his forehead in exasperation, "There is little point in arguing these points now," he says, "I brought you here to negotiate a peace. I brought you here to stand trial, and if you persist in your heresy, then the law demands that you burn. I know you are brave enough to die for your beliefs, but you must know that your matyrdom will only embolden others to continue to resist. And I will have to destroy their resistance, violently, and with no mercy."<br />
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<br />
"You monster!" Sterren growls, raising her hand to strike in anger.<br />
<br />
He catches her wrist before her hand can connect, his fingers digging into her skin. "If I am monster, it is the curse that made me so," he says, his voice cold and even, his rage contained and directed to his purpose. "The demons you worship laid this curse on me, and have made me what I am now."<br />
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"I will not renounce my faith," Sterren snarls, defiant.<br />
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"Stubborn as ever," Reinier growls, grabbing her by the shoulders to shove her to her knees in front of the altar. "You cling to your false beliefs, blind to the evil of the demons you worship."<br />
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<br />
"And is your Watcher any better?" Sterren retorts, "Your absent god who demands you burn people alive in his name?"<br />
<br />
He laughs bitter and harsh. Sterren turns her head in surprise, waiting in silence for him to explain his amusement. "Oh, Sterren," he finally gasps through his laughter, "There is no Watcher, no Lady. We throw our prayers into the wind, and tell ourselves that when things go as we like, that our god has blessed us."<br />
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<br />
<br />
Sterren lifts her head and turns to face him, her curiosity overcoming her fear and outrage, "If you do not believe in your own god, why do you ask that I believe?"<br />
<br />
"You are not required to believe, only to say that you do. There may be no Watcher in the heavens, but his followers believe in me, and support my reign. You are the last hope of the resistance to my rule, and your public renunciation would put an end to that. A more peaceful end, anyway. For if you choose to continue your defiance and burn, I will destroy Avendale."<br />
<br />
"Reinier," she whispers his name, letting her remembrance of the man he was, when he was lover, touch her tongue with tenderness. It was that image she held of him in heart that made her still pity him, made her wish that his life might yet be spared. But seeing him now, what he'd become since last they'd spoken, heartless, cruel, speaking so coldly of the death and destruction he had brought and would continue to bring, Sterren's heart closed to pity for him forever. For the sake of the world, he had to die, and she could not rely on anyone else to see it done. "I will do as you ask," she promises.<br />
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<br />
He's almost gentle as he kneels by her side, traces of the affection he once felt for her in his eyes and in the hand he reaches to her to help her to her feet.<br />
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His hand lingers in hers, his fingers entwined with hers, "I am glad, Sterren," he says, looking into her eyes with the soft gaze of affection.<br />
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Thus distracted, he does not see her take Jean's amulet from her pocket or notice as she triggers the mechanism that unsheathes the blade concealed within.<br />
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She lunges suddenly, aiming for his gut, but his warrior instincts take over, and he steps back from her blow in time, and draws his own weapon in response.<br />
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It happens in an instant, his hands moving faster than his thought, dealing with the threat quickly, decisively.</div>
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She makes a horrible gurgling sound as she collapses to the ground, her blood puddling around her. He makes no sound at all, standing above her as she dies. A drop of her blood courses down the edge of his blade, falls to join the blood pooling on the floor. Reinier steps back as the spreading pool threatens to stain his boots.<br />
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She had meant to kill him, and he'd killed her instead. Though it happened only moments ago, Reinier cannot remember killing her. She lies dead in front of him, his blade covered in her blood, but that moment between her lunge towards him and her fall to the ground simply does not exist in his memory. She had tried to kill him, and perhaps it would have been better if she had succeeded. After losing Agneta, he had thought his own heart had been buried with her, for it had been cold and quiet as the grave. But his heart beats within him still, and Reinier wishes he could silence it<br />
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She come with the intent to kill him, he reminds himself. She carried a blade concealed, waiting for a moment to strike. Surely, such treachery could not have been of her sole design, but part of a plot hatched with her cousin, the Lord of Avendale, the most staunch of his adversaries and the last to capitulate his defeat. No doubt the plot did not end with Sterren, and Reinier must make haste to squash any further plans the young lordling had concocted from coming to fruition.<br />
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A hand reaches for hers. Sterren takes it, lets him help her to her feet. How could she have survived that?<br />
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"You didn't," says the stranger. "You're dead.".<br />
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Sterren looks around her; they standing by the mouth of a cave, in an unfamiliar landscape. No, it is familiar, but somehow not quite as she remembers it.<br />
<br />
"That's because it's how I remember it," the man says, again responding to her unspoken thoughts, "My memory reaches back much further than yours."<br />
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"And who are you?" Sterren asks. Shirtless and tattooed, he resembles a wilder, but there's something about him even more different than those mysterious forest dwellers.<br />
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"I'm more like you than they are," he laughs, "I am, or was, human. My name is Kvornan, and I;m the son of the one you call The Lady."<br />
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"There is no mention of you in the tales," Sterren says with a frown.<br />
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"I'm the one that told the tales," Kvornan tells her, "Come, it is time for you to go."<br />
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"Go? Go where?" she asks.<br />
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"I'm here to guide you to the border. Where you go when you cross over, I don't know. I've been trapped here since my death, you see."<br />
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"I don't see," Sterren replies, "Where are we? Will I meet the Lady where we are going? Or, Auberon?"<br />
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"I'm not sure this place has a name," Kvornan answers, "It exists in between worlds. Sometimes, those that have died end up here rather than going directly to, well, I call it the spirit realm, but I have not been able to enter it myself to say for certain what it is. Perhaps my mother's spirit does await you there, or perhaps she has become the Lady you have worshiped all these years and is no long the mother I remember. Or perhaps what lies beyond is something completely different from our expectations. You'll see soon enough. Your portal is here, just go into the cave,"<br />
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"You aren't coming with me?"<br />
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"As I said, I am trapped here, held by some force, for some purpose I do not understand. Sometimes I think this is my purpose, to guide spirits who come here to the portal. Sometimes I prefer to think there's something else, something I must wait for," Kvornan says, shrugging, "Sometimes I imagine this is just a dream. But that seems unlikely, since I distinctly remember dying. Auberon was with me when I died, and my sister. The fae one, Auberon's daughter. I suspect one of them, Auberon most likely, trapped me here. Only he could tell you why. And he's probably forgotten. He's like that," Kvornan sighs. "You should go now."<br />
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"Wait," Sterren says, "You are the Lady's son, her actual son. We have so many tales of her, conflicting in their details. They cannot all be true. I want to hear, from you, what is real and what is fiction. I want to know..."<br />
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Kvornan laughs. "The dead have no use for such knowledge. And the things I remember may very well be the imaginings of an old man left too long alone in a place with no name. I could tell you tales, but I no longer know for certain what is true."<br />
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Sterren sits in front of the cave's mouth. "Then tell me your tales. Whatever lies beyond can wait."<br />
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yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-69938464486034768042015-02-14T07:52:00.000-08:002015-02-14T07:52:53.799-08:00Chapter 53: Hope Will Light the Beacon<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Sterren stands with her daughter before the image of the Lady in their garden, the very spot where'd she'd married Taran. Once, in times ancient almost beyond counting, before the village bore the name of her family, this place had been the center of worship for the people who lived here. Now they have a grander statue with a well tended grove for the Lady's service, and this sculpture is but a relic forgotten by all but the Avendale family. When the priests of the Watcher come to burn the sacred grove in the town, will they spare this private place of worship, or will they destroy even this in their zeal to spread the law of their god?<br />
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No. She must not give into defeat yet, not even in thought. For the sake of the people she serves in the Lady's name, she must believe until her last breath that hope remains, that Morvyn's plan will work, and that they might yet prevail. Hope will light the beacon that guides Sterren on the journey she must take, but duty, grim and solemn, will not let her leave until she's made arrangements for the possibility of failure.<br />
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Hope and faith, the gifts and burdens she must pass on to her daughter. Squaring her shoulders, Sterren looks Aouregan in the eyes as she speaks, "Tomorrow, I will be leaving with our cousin for Odet, and there is a chance I may not return." Aouregan's lips open to protest, but her mother silences her with a slight shake of her head, "I know this is hard for you to hear. But you must listen well now, my daughter. The magic we carry in our blood is a blessing from our Lady, but it brings a grave a duty to her with it. We Avendales have served her since the earliest days. And now, we face an enemy who wishes to end us, erase us from the land and its history."<br />
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Aouregan lifts her jaw defiantly, but her eyes shine with tears unshed. "We won't let that happen," she says, her voice fierce on her trembling lips.<br />
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"No, we won't," Sterren agrees, "You are brave and strong, my child, and you are the last of our line. If we do not succeed in Odet, the Landgraab army will come to Avendale, and they will burn the Lady's grove. Those remaining priests who fled here from the burning in other towns will try to defend our most sacred place, but they will not be able to stand against an army."<br />
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"I am prepared to die with them," Aouregan says.<br />
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Sterren caresses her daughter's cheek, smiling at her courage and determination. "Your death will be the Landgraab's final victory. The grove may burn, child, and I and all the servants of the Lady may perish, but you must live to carry on our service and our line."<br />
<br />
"But--"<br />
<br />
"Sssh, child, and listen to me. If we do not succeed in Odet, Moth will come to you, and take you away from here, somewhere safe. You must go with him, and no matter what happens in Avendale, you must stay with him, out of harm's way. And as long as a Landgraab rules this land, you must reveal yourself to anyone. This is most important, daughter. Reinier Landgraab must never know where you are, or even that you are alive." Sterren breathes in deeply, considering for a moment revealing the truth about Aouregan's parentage, and decides against it. Aouregan has loved Taran as a father, and has cause enough to stay away from Reinier even without knowing the real reason he'd pursue her particularly, above all other servants of the Lady. "The Landgraab means to supplant the Lady entirely with his church, and he knows that as long as an Avendale lives, so the Lady will live on. And he will not rest until every one of us is dead. Do you understand?"<br />
<br />
Aouregan nodes solemnly, "I understand, Mother. I will go with Moth, and I will never let the Landgraab know I live."<br />
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Sterren smiles, a grim, hard smile. Everything she knows may be destroyed, but if her daughter carries on, all may not be lost.<br />
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"Allying ourselves with mortals is a mistake," Paerys growls, not for the first time since Morvyn informed everyone of his intentions. Her dissatisfaction with his plan had been causing him to wonder if including her nest in it might be the true mistake. But, dragons were was needed, and he and Kelyn would be disguised among the humans in Odet. That left him with little choice but to ask for her aid, dangerous as that was. "I do not see why we can't just destroy their town, and not bother with disguises and trickery," she concludes, her eyes flashing with anger.<br />
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Morvyn raises an eyebrow, "How many times have you tried that and failed? Leading your followers to their deaths at the hands of the dragon slayer?" he asks her sharply, "Your way has not worked. It's only made the situation worse."<br />
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"I, for one, think this alliance is a step in the right direction," Jennicor says, "Humans are not monsters to be feared. They are not so different from you dragons, in fact. Many chafe under the rule of this Landgraab, and would make steadfast allies to both our kinds, if we offered our friendship."<br />
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Paerys spits in disgust.</div>
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"Paerys, I need you to stick to your part of this plan," Morvyn warns her, "Our lives may depend on it. You, Brant and Derrell are a distraction only. Keep your distance and refrain from destroying anything."</div>
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"We'll steer clear of it," Brant promises, and Derrell nods in agreement. Paerys fumes, but acquiesces.<br />
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"And I'll stay with Ametair, should the moon's call prove to strong," Riain says. Their wolven kin was not happy about Morvyn's plan to allow the mortals to use their forest as an escape route, but he did agree to not interfere, even if he would not actively help. But the one part of the plan that was not in Morvyn's hands was the timing. The schedule set by their human allies would have them in Odet during the fullness of the moon, and that meant Ametair would change, and would hunt, and only his father would be able to stop him from slaughtering Sterren's people if he got their scent while in his forest.<br />
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"Kelyn, Shayeleigh and I will be in hostile territory, relying on humans we can barely trust," Morvyn says, looking each of them in the eye, "We will be counting on you, each of you, to do your part, and make sure we all get out of their alive."<br />
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"The death of the dragon slayer is finally at hand," Kelyn adds, "And it's only right that we all have our part to play in his end."<br />
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yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-26854412364074429422015-02-11T07:09:00.000-08:002015-02-11T16:10:04.410-08:00Chapter 52: Before This Trial<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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As the sun begins its descent toward the western horizon, Sterren sees two figures emerge from the forest, making their steady way toward her. That's one more than she was expecting, and she glances at Moth, who shows no sign of worry at the extra attendee to her hastily called meeting. It was Auberon she had wanted to see, but Moth had told her the fae Prince was away somewhere, and that he could not be summoned. Desperate in the days her impending journey to face the Landgraab's trial, Sterren then asked her guardian fairy to bring her the only other person she thought might be willing to lend her aid.<br />
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As they approach, she immediately recognizes the man from the distinct white and blue color of his hair. But as he grows closer, she's puzzled by his appearance; the years that had worn lines on her face since their last meeting had not touched him at all, and he seemed as young as when she first laid eyes upon him, on the day he had been captured by Reinier Landgraab. Few people had ever seen the wilder folk close enough to recognize one face from another, and even more rare was the person who'd claimed to see the same wilder more than once. Despite the fears and superstitions many held against the forest dwelling wilders, it has always been assumed that they were human, and mortal. Sterren had had a few occasions to question many of the presumptions held by her kind, both good and bad, but had never yet thought to doubt their basic mortality. Until now.<br />
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"Thank you for coming, Morvyn," she says in greeting, glancing at the woman he brought with him, obviously a wilder like him. It occurs to Sterren that no one in the whole history of her people had ever told a story about or claimed to have even caught a glimpse of a wilder woman, though all had assumed they must exist. It somehow does not surprise her that the wilder woman would appear even fiercer than her male counterpart, standing close to him, protective, with a menacing scowl.<br />
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"Moth said you needed help. Against the dragon slayer, the one whose prison you once freed me from," Morvyn says, his glance toward his companion as he speaks telling her that the reminder of his debt was meant more for her than for Sterren. Distrust is written clearly on her features, and it is obvious that she was against coming to this meeting with Sterren.<br />
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"We are grateful for what you've done for us," the woman says, her reluctance to speak at all plain in her voice, "But I don't know what it is you expect of us. If we knew a way to get to him, the dragon slayer would be long dead by now." Morvyn reaches a gentle but restraining hand to her arm, shaking his head slightly, and the woman bites her lip and takes a step backwards. Sterren is suddenly reminded of the one tale she has heard of a wilder woman, from the report of the witness to the assassination of Diedericx Landgraab, Reinier's brother, and she can't help but wonder if it is that assassin who stands before her now.<br />
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"This is my mate--my <i>wife</i>, Kelyn," Morvyn belatedly introduces his companion, his tongue obviously unused to the human word. "I owe you my life, Sterren, I have not forgotten that. But Kelyn is right, what aid we can give you will be severely limited. There's more of that blue metal around the dragon slayer than when he held me prisoner. No magic can be cast within or even near the walls of his city."<br />
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Sterren nods, aware of the challenge they all face. Reinier is well defended from all enemies, human or supernatural. "I don't consider you as owing me a debt," she says, wanting to be clear on that, "I ask what help you can give, but I would not have you risk more than you are willing. Landgraab means to put me on trial, as a witch- a priestess of the Lady. And those he finds guilty are burned publicly."<br />
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"You shouldnot go," Moth says, speaking up for the first time, "Ifyou donotgo, he cannot burnyou."<br />
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"That's a fair point," Kelyn says, "Why would you go to him, knowing what he intends?"<br />
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"Because if I don't, he will attack Avendale. And we cannot defend ourselves. The enitre village would be destroyed, and many would lose their lives. I must go," Sterren says, steeling her jaw, trying to keep her voice from wavering, "Even if I must die. But my hope was that Auberon could save me as he saved my friend Fransez, by making rains that put out the fires."<br />
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"Even if we could rouse Auberon in time for this, even he cannot use his power in the presence of so much of the metal," Morvyn answers, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Tell me, is this trial held in public? Does the dragon slayer himself attend? If Kelyn or I could just get close enough, a single arrow could end him..."<br />
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Sterren takes a deep breath, reminding herself that Reinier will either kill her or destroy Avendale if he is not stopped, and that if the only way to stop him is through his death, then she must accept it, as much as she would prefer to spare his life if she could.<br />
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"He will be wary of potential assassins," she warns, "And either of you would stand out even in a large crowd. Unless...my cousin, the Lord of Avendale, will also be traveling to Odet, to pledge his fealty to Lord Landgraab. If you could get a fairy to make you an amulet enchanted with a glamour, like..." Sterren stops herself, remembering that the amulet she speaks of, the one that protects the daughter of Gaelle Brannon's identity, must never be revealed to her true father..."Like in the tales," she covers for her mistake, her eyes unable to meet Morvyn's as she thinks of the secret she hides from him.<br />
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"A glamour?" Morvyn says thoughtfully, "Disguising us as one of your cousin's retinue? We'd be allowed into the city's walls, then."<br />
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"We might even be able to get to the dragon slayer before this trial of his. Under the cover of darkness, while he sleeps," Kelyn adds.<br />
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The plan is now out of her hands, Sterren realizes. The wilders have long wished to see Reinier dead, and now that Sterren has offered them the opportunity, they will not be dissuaded from the attempt. As long as it spares her from the fire, and more importantly, spares Avendale from destruction, Sterren has no choice but to allow the wilders to do with Reinier as they will.<br />
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"We ride in two days time," she tells the couple, "If you can get your enchantments in time, I will find you a place among my cousin's men. If Landgraab is killed, Lord Konan will need to be ready to flee with his men at a moment's notice."<br />
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"We can help with that," Morvyn says, his tone suggesting that he'd been coming up with a plan, "We can get your cousin and his men out quickly, through the enchanted forests."<br />
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"Morvyn!" Kelyn admonishes her partner, "What are you saying? They are mor...not our kind!"<br />
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"They endanger themselves by allowing us into the city in their company," Morvyn says, "We can do no less to secure their passage home."<br />
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Kelyn frowns, but nods in agreement. "Aye," she sighs, "But I hope we are not causing more problems than we are solving."<br />
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yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-53045286655777821282015-02-09T14:43:00.000-08:002015-02-10T09:29:13.946-08:00Chapter 51: World Made of Dreams<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The metal was everywhere now. As the Landgraab's power and influence over the human realm increased, so did the magic-weakening metal he brought with him spread. Every town, every village was shielded with it, and the soldiers that patrolled the roads were armed with it. The only safe places for the fae and for the dragons was deep into the forests, where the humans would not go, or into the depths of the oceans, where Ico had retreated with her dragon mate, Aymeri, to raise their daughter away from the dangers of the war the mortals brought to the land.<br />
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Trapped thus, ringed in and surrounded by the ever growing human population, the fae and even the dragons, turned to Auberon for a solution. Some, like his granddaughter Paerys, demanded he destroy all the mortals, so once again those with magic would hold dominion over a wild, untamed world. Some, like Jennicor, and the dragon Morvyn and his mate Kelyn, wished for a weapon to counter the metal that weakened their magic abilities, to make an even battlefield on which they could fight, and take back some of what they'd lost.<br />
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And beneath their supplications, Auberon heard the pleas of those few humans who still prayed to their Lady, his Uvie, begging for her to return and protect them from the Landgraab and his Watcher, who brought nothing but war and despair.<br />
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"If there were a way to bring you back..." Auberon whispers to the spirit presence that sits ever silent by his side, perhaps no more than a manifestation of a memory, long passed, and maybe better forgotten. "What would you have me do, my long lost love?" he asks, not expecting an answer.<br />
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"I exist only for you." Her voice is not even a whisper, and Auberon is not certain her lips even moved, or if she truly spoke at all. Perhaps her voice was but a faint a memory, a recollection of words whispered in the long ago, when she yet lived, and loved him. But, no, Uvie would never have spoken such words. For, as much as she did love him, she did not exist for only him. She was her own person, and had many ties to the world that had given her birth. Ties that were severed now, in death?<br />
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Mortals and death...a concept Auberon still had difficulty with. They have spirit selves, who are not the same as them, and dreamselves that may be different from the spirit selves...He had seen Uvie in all her different selves, and loved her, but still he could not say he truly knew her he way he knew his fae companions.<br />
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<i> I exist only for you</i>...Words can be interpreted in different ways. Did she mean he was her sole purpose for existing? Or that in fact, she did not exist at all, save in his own mind, a figment of his own imagining? Auberon could never be sure he was not creating her image here to console himself for his loss, which he still felt deeply, despite the years that had passed since her death. Either interpretation brought him to the same conclusion, however, that the world she was born in no longer mattered to her, and thus his attachment to it, to her legacy, was of his own making. And no longer needed, he decides.<br />
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<i>I am a creator, not a destroyer</i>, he thinks, rejecting Paerys' desire to end the human dominion over the world. <i>I create worlds, nothing more, nothing less</i>, he thinks, casting aside Jennicor's wish for a means to defend their place in the world. The world his kind had once ruled had grown into its own, and needed them no longer. It was time now for a new world to be born for them, one without humans, one that, like the Fae, like the dragonkind, would not change or grow. This would answer Ico and Aymeri's desire, Auberon thinks with satisfaction, knowing that he would please at least some of his supplicants.<br />
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"And I'll bring you with me to this new world, as well," he promises spirit Uvie, taking her hand and willing her back into the form she wore in the long gone past, a form with skin and hair, sparkling eyes and a voice that soothed him. It was all his imagination, Auberon knows this, for his mortal Uvie is long dead and can never return, and even her spirit is not his to summon or command. But Auberon has never made much of the distinction between the real and the unreal, an is thus satisfied to live with a dream, in a world made of dreams.<br />
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And so, Auberon grew a new realm for the fae and dragons to dwell in, if they so chose. He'd already begun the work, after all, making this place outside the world where he'd meditate. The foundation was laid, the portals already opened, he had only to grow it, using his memory of the world that was theirs before the arrival of the first humans, with forests and fields and animals for the dragons to hunt, and endless expanse of air, water and land for his kind to do as they did, living eternal lives of uninterrupted joy.<br />
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Many of the fae and dragonkind came to live in the new Fae Lands, happy to be free again kin a world they'd thought forever lost. Some, however, refused to leave the world they loved, even though they no longer ruled it, preferring to fight on for their place in it.<br />
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Riain and Shayeleigh had long kept their silence about the torture he had once endured at Auberon's hands, and even now, long past the time when the truth would spark discord between the fae and the dragons, they still would not speak of it. So when they were asked why they would not go with Aymeri and his nest into the Fae Lands, they said only that their connection to the earth was too strong to bear the separation. And though they were sad to say goodbye to those they loved, their son Ametair would remain with them, feeling he belonged more to his wolven companions than to either the fae or dragonkind.<br />
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Morvyn, Kelyn and Jennicor chose to remain as well, not willing to give up their fight against the Landgraab forces or to give up what they believed was theirs by right. Paerys, as much a dragon as a fairy, also would not retreat until her father's killer had paid in full, and with her nestmates, she retreated to an aerie in the mountains too high for the mortal men to climb, to bide her time, waiting for the day her vengeance became possible.<br />
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Moth, too, was left behind, bidden by Auberon to watch over Uvie's mortal line, over Sterren and her daughter, Auoregan, and any future daughters born to them, to stay and guard them until their line should die out. For eternity if need be.<br />
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Though the Fae Lands Auberon created were separate from the mortal world they'd once inhabited, they remained forever bound to each other, with portals that would allow those with the magic and knowledge to use them to travel between the worlds.<br />
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I'm sorry, again, for another long hiatus. But I'm back, and ready to move this story forward. </div>
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yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-57093314456934712752014-08-16T13:20:00.000-07:002014-08-16T13:20:25.405-07:00Chapter 50: His Beloved's Face<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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"It is done, Agneta, my love. This long war is finally over, and soon every trace of their heathen religion will be wiped from the land."<br />
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Reinier's hand gently caresses her gravestone, silent, as though he waits for a response. He tries to imagine her voice, the happy lilt she used to have, before. Before the curse on him destroyed her joy, killed the light that emanated from her. After the first miscarriage, she would not give up. She was, in her own way, a fighter, like him, and she would not bow to the curse the demons had laid on his line.<br />
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So they kept trying, pregnancy after pregnancy, each one ending in miscarriage or stillbirth. With every loss, her determination to try again grew, just as her joy in life diminished, until she had no joy left, only her anger, her pain. Through it all, she had prayed everyday, constantly, that the Watcher show her some mercy, and give her one child.<br />
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Reinier's hand drops from the stone that marks her grave, balling into a fist. The Watcher answered her prayers, and gave her one child. But the curse would not let him go so easily. In exchange for the heir she wanted so badly to bear, it took her life. Reinier's heart turned from the Watcher on that day, for what use is a god that cannot save his most faithful subject? But even as he lost his own faith, his drive to supplant the demonic religion the people here adhered to doubled. For Agneta. For vengeance on the demons who'd cursed him, not caring that the curse meant for him had destroyed an innocent, pure woman. He would put the god his wife had died serving in the place of the Lady, consort of a demon prince, and turn the people away from their heathen superstition to Agneta's faith.<br />
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"I've had word that Church means to canonize me," Reinier tells her, letting his fist unfold and reaching out again for the cold stone that had replaced his Agneta, "St. Reinier the Dragonslayer. I wish you could see the paintings they've made of me, my love," he whispers, his lips turned into a smile of bitterness. She would be proud of his deeds, the way he'd conquered the whole country, built churches and spread the faith. Every church he built was graced with one of his relics, a tooth of the fearsome dragons he'd slain, and each displayed great paintings and tapestries of him, standing astride a fallen dragon, his sword in hand, ready to strike.<br />
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The dragons had made it all so much easier for him, though he is sure that could not have been their intent. If they could even be aid to have intent, Reinier muses, still unsure about his own theories of dragon intelligence. They seemed, at times, to move with purpose beyond that exhibited by lesser animals. But their strategy in this war they waged against him showed a lack of understanding of human politics and allegiances. They could not attack him where he was strong, in the towns he'd fortified with the blue iron that weakens magic. So they attacked the unfortified towns that he had not yet conquered, towns who had been neutral or allied to his enemies. And those towns would invariably turn to him, offering him their fealty if he would just come and save them from the fearsome, firebreathing beasts. So many battles were avoided thanks to the actions of these dragons. And with every dragon he'd killed, his own legend grew, and did his influenhce over the local lords who relied on him.<br />
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Reinier turns as he hears his named called from the path behind him. Reingard, his youngest sister, waves at him once they have his attention, and she and her husband, Gunteras, Agneta's brother, approach. Behind her skirts, Reinier spots the boy, and frowns.<br />
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"Why did you bring him here?" Reinier asks the couple harshly. Gunteras stands quiet, his mouth open, obviously taken aback by the question. Reingard's brow furrows as she frowns at her brother.<br />
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"He's come to pay respect to his mother," she snaps at him, "And to see his father," she adds in a more gentle tone, taking her brother's arm, "He grows more like you everyday," she says with a coaxing smile.<br />
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When he'd given his son to his sister and her husband to foster, he'd told her he couldn't bear watching the boy grow older, seeing Agneta's face in his and being reminded of his loss. Looking at the boy now, seven years old this very week, Reinier sees nothing of his beloved's face. The boy is a complete copy of himself, and that pains him more than any remembrance of Agneta ever could. She gave her life to give Tiedric his, and yet he bears no resemblance to her. She died to give him birth, and she was erased as though she had never been.<br />
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Reingard puts a gentle had on Tiedric's shoulder, urges him forward to greet his father, looking sternly at her brother. "Sire," Tiedric greets his father with a stiff bow, clearly as uncomfortable as Reinier is with this graveside meeting. In this, he had failed Agneta, Reinier knew. He could not bring himself to love the boy who took her from him, even knowing that she would be hurt to know of this distance between her husband and son.<br />
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"Tiedric has begun his sword training," Gunteras attempts to break the awkward silence between father and son, "His sword master says he's exceptionally gifted with the weapon."<br />
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"Your mother would be very proud of you," Reinier says, forcing a tight smile.<br />
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"Thank you, Sire," Tiedric answers, mouthing the rote phrase with no feeling, and fidgeting awkwardly as his glance turns towards his mother's grave behind his father. The mother he never met, Reinier thinks, understanding for the first time the burden his son carries, the guilt his mother's death has laid on him. In that moment, his heart aches for the boy, for the son he cast away, and his hand makes a motion, as though to reach out for Tiedric and embrace him. But then he remembers the curse, and knows that as much as his heart aches, the boy is better off without his father, and Reinier's hand instead reaches for his brother-in-law, gesturing for him to follow as he steps away from his sister and his son. "Gunteras, I would speak with you of the next, and final, battle in this war."<br />
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Reingard's disapproval is evident on her face, as in Gunteras' confusion, but both know better than to speak a word of objection. Gunteras follows Reinier as is his duty, and Reingard gently leads Tiedric to Agneta's grave, where he may confer with his other parent of cold stone.<br />
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"Is there to be another battle, then?" Gunteras asks. He had believed that with the surrender of the Penguillies came the end of the war.<br />
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"It is my hope that there will not," Reinier answers, "But it is a slim hope. Avendale has agreed to come to me and swear fealty, but the conditions I lay upon that fealty might be more than he can swallow."<br />
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"Avendale?" Gunteras gasps in a near laugh, "Surely a village so small cannot put up any resistance? What could you possibly ask of him that he will not capitulate to? What could you even want of such an insignificant village?"<br />
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"They are small, yes, but not insignificant. Avendale is the place their heathen religion holds most sacred. Where the other petty lords have pleaded with me to not burn their groves, they have stopped short of fighting to keep them, because as long as Avendale's still stands, their Lady has a home, and they keep a place for her in their hearts even as they mouth prayers to the Watcher. The priests and priestesses who flee from the Watcher's justice take refuge there. If I am to root out this heathen belief, Avendale must destroy their grove, and their high priestess must publicly recant, and set her sacred trees to the flame herself."<br />
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"And you anticipate resistance in this?"<br />
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Reinier closes his eyes and lets out an unconscious sigh, "Sterren Avendale will not do this willingly. I'm hoping the threat to her entire village will force her hand, but I know well, hers is a hand that is not easily forced. Her cousin will bend his knee to save his people, but Sterren..." He has not spoken her name in years, for who would he speak to of her? But he has thought of her often, wondered about the child she bore him, and whether they were spared from his curse. Late at night, when dark dreams keep him from restful sleep, his mind turns to happier memories of the love they shared, once, long ago, and his sorrow drives him to tears. Tears that no man must see him shed for a love none may know of.<br />
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"Well, if she does not, they have hardly got the forces to stop us," Gunteras shrugs, "This war is won no matter what this priestess does."<br />
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"It is," Reinier agrees, "But it would mean much to have the Avendale witch recant publicly and set the last of their groves ablaze. But even if she will not, I will see it done."<br />
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yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-54023040436774875382014-07-21T04:40:00.000-07:002014-07-21T04:41:01.390-07:00Chapter 49: Concealed Weapon<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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"Push, Elara, push now," Aouregan says, trying to sound confident in her directions and not look over her shoulder for her mother's approval. She attended so many birthings with Sterren, observing, learning from her mother, that Aouregan was confident she was ready to be midwife for her half-sister Elara's first child. But that confidence wavered some as she knelt in front of Elara, and she discovered that doing a thing yourself is much different from observing it.<br />
"Very good, you're doing just fine," Sterren says, laying a gentle hand on her daughter's shoulder, "Both of you," she adds with a smile, proud of both of the young women she'd had the honor to raise. Elara's husband, Jean, leans over his wife, whispering words of encouragement as she grips his hands for support.<br />
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Taran, who had been waiting outside while his wife and Aouregan tend to the birth of his grandchild, leans through the doorway, catching Sterren's attention.<br />
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"Everything is going well, my love," Sterren assures him with a smile.<br />
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Taran nods gratefully, but his expression remains worried, "Your cousin, the lord Konan is here for you. He says it's urgent," he tells his wife.<br />
Sterren's own smile fades at this; in these times of war, urgent summons are never glad tidings. She sighs, weary of the 15 years of sorrow the long wars against the Landgraabs have brought to her lands. Even a day like today, a day that should be celebrated, must be marked by this seemingly never ending war.<br />
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"You're doing fine," she assures her daughter, "I must see what Konan wants, I'll return shortly."<br />
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Her cousin, the young Lord of Avendale fidgets impatiently while he waits, his armored fist clenching and unclenching as he paces the yard. outside the smithy. His father, her uncle Marrec, would have summoned her to his manse rather than come himself, but Konan came of age during a time of war, had been on the field of battle when his father passed, and had not even been able to come home in time to see his sire buried. Battle had hardened him, and fighting side by side with men of every class had made him less conscious of his own place in the world. He was Lord of Avendale, but he did not stand on ceremony, and if he wished to speak to his subjects, he'd ride out to their homes rather than send for them and wait to be attended.<br />
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"Cousin," he greets her as she and Tran join him in the yard, "They told me I could find you here."<br />
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"What news? Sterren asks reluctantly.<br />
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"Penguilly has yielded. The war is done," Konan answers, his lips set in a tight, angry line.<br />
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War is over. The words should sound sweet. But the end of this war, the triumph of the Landgraabs, will not being the kind of peace that guarantees happiness for Avendale.<br />
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"Landgraab has sent me a summons," Konan continues, "I am to go to him to bend my knee and swear fealty." Anger and resentment poison his words as he speaks, "I have no choice in this. Avendale is not strong enough to fight him on our own, and we are now without allies. I can at least say I was the last of all of to bend my knee to this foreign usurper."<br />
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Sterren nods sadly, trying to think of some comforting words. But her cousin is not yet finished, and continues before she can breathe a word.<br />
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"There's more. Cousin, he says I am to bring you to Odet, to stand trial...." He does not have to say what crime she is accused of. With every town captured by the Landgraab forces, the trials have followed, and all who practice 'withcraft', as the priests of the Watcher have named service to the Lady, are burned at the stake. Sterren cannot help but shudder to think of the fate that awaits her in Odet. "I would bend my knee, and swear my fealty, but I will not allow this," Konan says firmly, "I will fight Landgraab to the death before I allow this."<br />
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"I do not think he'd agree to duel you for me," Sterren observes.<br />
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"More's the pity," Konan agrees, "But I will not back down. If he wants you, he can come here himself and try to take you!"<br />
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"No!" Sterren gasps in horror, "No, cousin, that I will not allow. I will not sacrifice this village to spare myself. You must not even consider it."<br />
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"Nor should you be so eager to sacrifice your life," Taran says. Always conscious pf his peasant origins, her husband usually keeps his silnce when Sterren converses with her noble relations, but he will not stay quiet while she throws herself into danger.<br />
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"Indeed, cousin," Konan agrees, "If you go to Odet, you are surely going to your death."<br />
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Sterren's lips form a tight line as she considers her options. "If I go, I may not have to die," she muses,<br />
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"What? Do you mean to assassinate the dragon slayer?" Konan gasps, his war experience suggesting only one solution to the problem they face.<br />
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Sterren's eyes widen at the thought. Could she kill Reinier, if presented with the opportunity? As a healer and a servant of the lady, she is sworn to do no harm. Yet, surely, no man has proved his capacity for harm more than Reinier Landgraab, and even though he has made himself lord over all of them, surely his reign of blood and terror is not yet over. The persecution of her kind will never be over, she fears, until every one of them has been burned in their unholy fires. But, still, to kill a man? Even if justified, could she do it?<br />
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"Even if I were given the opportunity to come close to him, I'm sure they would search me first, and take any weapon I attempted to conceal," Sterren muses.<br />
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"Not if the weapon was cleverly disguised," Jean says, coming out to join the trio in his yard, intending to bring news of the successful birth of his daughter. "I have a few small, sharp blades, of my own design, crafted to appear as harmless everyday objects." The young blacksmith had as a boy longed to follow in his grandfather's footsteps and become a healer and servant of the Lady, but as he grew to a man he took up his father's trade, even while studying under Sterren's tutelage. And from his forge came such wondrous items that many wondered if it were not magic that created them rather than simple skill.<br />
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He held out his hand, offering an amulet, wrought of silver. Sterren took it, looking at him quizzically. Jean smiled as he showed her how the pull the small latch concealed within the decoration, and Sterren gasped as the amulet broke into pieces, unfolding to become a sharp blade.<br />
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"Oh!" Sterren breathes, "But, I don't think...I doubt I would be given the chance to use it," she says, still not certain she would avail herself of the opportunity to kill Reinier if it presented itself, "The witch trials are held in the public square, are they not?"<br />
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Jean gives her a sharp nod, "Yes. In the market. I remember my grandfather's trial...my parents told me to stay at home, but I followed them anyway, and watched from behind a cart. Watched as they lit a fire beneath him, tied to a stake. And then the rains came," Jean looks Sterren in the eye, "And I saw, standing on the roof of a nearby building, I saw a fae. He had skin as blue as the sky and hair the color of midnight. You have allies among their kind, don't you Sterren? I remember seeing you speak with one, in the pond outside grandfather's house."<br />
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Sterren smiles, remembering the boy Jean was, "I didn't know you saw that," she says, "But yes, I do have friends amongst the fae, and I mean to seek their aid before I go to Odet to be put on trial."<br />
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Taran frowns, knowing he cannot dissuade his wife once her mind is set on a thing. "You should take Jean's concealed blade all the same," he advises, "You may find yourself in need of it."<br />
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yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-13766592827357827062014-07-16T07:35:00.001-07:002014-07-16T07:35:25.684-07:00This Long Hiatus<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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After I posted my last chapter in December, I meant to take a short break, in part to figure some things out, and in part because I was just getting kind of tired of all the set building, costuming and posing required to get pictures for this story.<br />
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And the break just kind of grew into a months long hiatus, as certain technical issues cropped up (the loss of many of my folders of pictures of poses with their codes being the primary issue) and I just didn't feel like dealing with it. But I've recently gotten a few messages asking me if I'm going to continue this story, and I have decided that I do want to go on. I am currently writing up the next chapter and I've begun putting together the sets I need, as well as the Sims and costumes. I'm hoping it will be ready this weekend. Later next week at the latest.<br />
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There will be a few changes to how things have been done before, however. First, the chapters will be more text and less pictures. The loss of my pose codes is making the picture taking process more labor intensive. And there are other issues involved with writing a fantasy story and not having the kind of props available. In the past, I've cut scenes and scrapped ideas simply because here was no way to adequately illustrate them. Now, I will write those scenes and illustrate with words alone if I have to.<br />
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I do love Sim pictures, though, so there will still be plenty of pictures in each chapter. Just not necessarily ever scene will have a corresponding picture.<br />
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The chapters will also be a bit shorter, in terms of how many scenes there are. Many of my chapters used to go to several locations and contain several scenes. I think I will now be limiting my chapters to one location and scene.<br />
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Finally, for readers of my Brannon legacy: The crossover between the legacy and Summerdream assumed that what happens here is the past history of the world that my Brannons inhabit. Characters in the legacy have sometimes referred to events 'in the past' that have not yet happened in the Summerdream universe. One of the problems I've been having in going forward with Summerdream is that I want to take the story to places which would negate the events I may have referred to in Brannons. I tried to find a way to work the Brannon past reality into what I want to do here, and it just doesn't work to my satisfaction. So, what I've decided to do is cut this story off from the Brannons. 'Summerdream' is now something like an alternate universe from the Brannon universe, where events happened differently from the Brannon timeline.<br />
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Thank you all for your patience!<br />
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yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-15246085797163129392013-12-10T05:28:00.000-08:002013-12-10T05:28:12.363-08:00Chapter 48: Destroy Them All<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Paerys' fury emanates from her like heat from the sun. She's so like her father, Aymeri thinks, his heart torn, so like his lost son. Whatever magic had made her mature so rapidly had denied him the chance to do it differently this time, to raise her better than he had Talfryn. Now, only a few days old and she's already as rash and stubborn as her father was at century old, and just as unwilling to listen to Aymeri's counsel.</div>
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"And that's it?" she demands of her grandfather, righteous in her fury, "You're just going to give up, while my father's murder goes unpunished?"</div>
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"No one wishes the dragonslayer dead more than I..." Aymeri begins, only to be cut off by her angry snarl.</div>
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"Wishing won't kill the dragonslayer!" Paerys shouts, "We must fight!"</div>
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"We did fight, Paerys, and seven more of us lie dead. I promised Ico I would not throw myself at the dragonslayer's sword, for her and our daughter's sake. I have not given up, but I will not fight in a war against a human army again. We need a better plan if we are to rid the world of this dragonslayer."</div>
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"What is your plan, then?" Paerys demands.</div>
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"I don't know!" Aymeri shouts, his anger and frustration getting the better of him. "I don't have one," he admits through lips tightly pressed together, "You must be patient, granddaughter, and give us time to think this through."</div>
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Her dragon grandfather had no help to offer, so Paerys went next to her mother's father, the ancient and powerful Auberon. He doesn't have the personal stake in revenge that Aymeri does, but he has what the old dragon lacks, near infinite power, and it is that which Paerys hopes to coax from him.</div>
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"You could make the skies fall over them, wipe all the mortals out with just a word, a wave of your hand," Paerys hurls an angry accusation at him, "But you do nothing! You sit by, hiding away here in your dreamworld while the human filth take over more and more land."</div>
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"The dragon blood runs strong in this one," Tania whispers to her sister.</div>
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"Yes, and with all the power of the fae," Jennicor muses, "A dangerous combination."</div>
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Auderon stands, impassive, looking over his hot-tempered granddaughter with a cool eye. "I could do many things, child," he says finally, his voice even and calm, "But this destruction you desire...I will not do that."</div>
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A growl rises in Paerys' throat as her first forms into a tight ball, though even in her worst anger, she knows she would never attempt to strike the ancient fae. "I know you have no great love for the dragons, but what of your daughter? These mortals stole her mate from her...will you do nothing?"</div>
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"I grieve for Evenfall and her loss," Auberon says, speaking as much about the magical transformation that turned his granddaughter into an adult so rapidly, and thus denying his daughter the solace of nurturing and raising the child her slain dragon had left her with, "But, remember, child, Evenfall had a mother, whose loss I still feel everyday. You, child, are born of dragon and fae blood. But you are also human yourself."</div>
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Calling Paerys a human was an exaggeration, his words had been meant to make her reflect on her own ancestry and her connection to the people she just referred to as 'filth', but they only enraged her further.</div>
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Paerys growl turns into an animal snarl as she raises her hands above her head. "If you mean to do nothing, then I must act alone."</div>
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"Paerys! No!" Jennicor and Tania protest in unison, seeing what it is that Paerys means to do.</div>
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"I lay my curse on the dragonslayer, so that he will know my wrath" Paerys intones, heedless of their warnings, "He will grieve as my mother grieves, he will know despair and loss. Everything he loves will fall to ruin, his children will bring him naught but sorrow--"</div>
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"Enough!" Auberon shouts, raising his hand, closing Paerys throat with his will, so that she cannot continue with her curse.</div>
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"You are a foolish child, playing with magic as though it is a toy," he says cooly as his granddaughter seethes in her forced silence, struggling fruitlessly against his magic.</div>
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"A curse, once spoken, cannot be undone," Tania says.</div>
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"And yours, spoken heedlessly and in anger, with no forethought, will have far greater consequences than you intend, and even you will not be able to take your words back," Jennicor concludes.</div>
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Auberon releases his hold on her voice when she stops struggling. "I take nothing back!" she spits her fury at these elders who think they can tell her what to do, "The dragonslayer will suffer!"</div>
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"I have no doubt that he will," Auberon answers, "And that suffering will spread far and wide, taking the innocent as well as the guilty. I cannot remove the curse you've already laid, child, but I will not permit you to add more onto it. Speak so much as a word of a curse and I will silence you."</div>
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Paerys growls, her hand clenching into a fist as she mutters her assent to her grandfather's command. He is far more powerful than she is, and there's nothing she can do to defy his will.</div>
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Paerys had had no more luck enlisting the aid of the other dragon nests in the area; Aeaea had lost two mates in the last battle and had retreated into mourning. Like Aymeri, she still nursed a desire for vengeance, but would not act on it with a plan that assured success. Inira and Fearghus, who had lost mates and a son when they still lived in the north, had fled their home to escape this conflict, and had only joined this fight because it had been the will of the majority. Neither of them would join cause with Paerys acting on her own. Ailidh had perished, along with four of her mates, leaving eight of her mates behind, without a nest. Most of them had dispersed, needing to find places in other nests, but Brant and Derrell had remined in Aymeri's camp for the time being, and Paerys pins her last hope of finding vengeance on them.</div>
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"We are with you," Brant declares when Paerys asks if they will continue their war against the dragonslayer.</div>
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"The dragonslayer took Ailidh and four of brothers. He must pay," Derrell agrees.</div>
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"Just tell us what you mean to do."</div>
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"The dragonslayer has his army, protected by his metal that weakens us all, dragon and fae. We cannot hope to win by striking him directly. But we can destroy the home he left behind when he set off to war against the other towns."</div>
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"There must be soldiers left there to defend it," Brant points out.</div>
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"Yes, and they will have their metal. Enough that we dare not attack them from up close. But, two dragons can do great damage from on high," she tells them, "If we cannot kill him, we can destroy what he loves, and make him suffer the losses we have endured at his hands." </div>
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Taran had taken Elara with him as he performed his rounds in his duties as reeve, and Sterren was spending the quiet afternoon in her study, reading, when the fairy appeared to her.</div>
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"I am called Winterdream," she said, "And I have come to offer my aid, in exchange for your own."</div>
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"What do you wish of me?" Sterren asks.</div>
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"You have Auberon's protection, which extends to your whole village. I, too, have a human under my care, but I am not as powerful as Auberon, and cannot protect him from the dark times I see coming. I need you to take this boy, Jean, the grandson of the healer Fransez in Odet, into your home, and keep him safe with you until the danger has passed."</div>
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"I will do anything to help Fransez and his kin," Sterren says readily, "But what is this danger you see?"</div>
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"I am no prophet, but I see plainly enough which direction this road is taking. The dragonslayer has stirred the dragons to wrath, and fostered the enmity of a powerful and vengeful fae. He has fallen under a terrible curse, one that threatens all he loves, both now and in the future, and I fear for all who live in his lands," the fairy tells her.</div>
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Sterren's eyes widen as she takes in this information, "I will gladly take the boy, and Fransez as well, into my house. But, I cannot ride to Odet in my condition," she explains, indicating her pregnant belly.</div>
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"Shayeleigh waits for you outside. She can take you there and back in an instant, with no harm to the child you carry," Winterdream promises, "I know you will not ask for a reward, but I will give you one, nonetheless. Your mind is troubled with a secret you keep for a friend, who fears the true identity of the father of her child will be revealed once the girl is born. I can give you an amulet,which, so long as the child wears it, will cast a glamour over her that will make her appearance match the expectations of those that look at her."</div>
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Winterdream is right, Sterren would never ask payment for giving what aid she could to anyone in need, but she will not refuse the gift the fairy offers. "That would ease the worries of both myself and Gaelle," she says, "Thank you."</div>
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It was a dream, Sterren realizes as she lifts her head, she'd fallen asleep while reading. A dream, but not 'just' a dream, Sterren is sure. The fae use dreams to contact people, and she has no doubt that Winterdream and the favor she asked of her are quite real.</div>
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Stepping out into the yard proves it, as Sterren finds Shayeleigh waiting for her their, in the form of the same horse she'd ridden to Odet to rescue the wilder from Reinier's prison.</div>
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"Winterdream said you could carry me there and back in an instant," Sterren says, "That the journey would not endanger my baby."</div>
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Shayeleigh nickers, and touches her nose gently to Sterren's belly "I'll take that as a promise," Sterren smiles. Before she goes with the fairy, she leaves a quick not for Taran, telling him only that she had to tend to someone in need and expected to be home soon. It's only a partial truth, she knows, but she wouldn't wish him to worry, and will tell him the whole of it when he returns. More than likely, she'll be back before he's finished his rounds, anyway.</div>
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As promised, the journey to Odet happened in an instant, and Sterren finds herself in her friend Fransez's home as quick as a thought. Convincing him to leave with her was a whole other matter, and the sun had begun to set before she had finished explaining what Winterdream had told her.</div>
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"It's not that I don't believe what the fairy told you," Fransez protests after Sterren's second entreaty that he leave with her immediately, "I know your family has always had a close tie to the fair folk. But if there is danger to Odet, then I must stay and help my people. Surely you understand that, Sterren?"</div>
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"I do," Sterren nods, "But the boy?"</div>
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Fransez looks fondly down on Jean, "His mother will--" Before he can finish his thought, a loud crash like thunder booms outside, followed by screaming.</div>
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They rush outside in time to witness a sight none had ever imagined possible. Two great wheeled in the sky above the town, shrieking as they spat giant balls of fire on the buildings below.</div>
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"Lady have mercy," Fransez breathed.</div>
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People fled to the square from the burning buildings, screaming and crying, searching for their loved ones.</div>
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One young woman, spotting Fransez in the crowd, rushes over to him and Sterren. "Healer!" she cries, "Please, you must come, my Lady is not well!"</div>
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"Who is your lady?" Sterren asks the girl, who stares back at her, wide eyed and frightened.</div>
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"This is Harildis, one of the Lady Agneta's handmaids," Fransez explains to Sterren, "Harildis, what happened to Lady Agneta? Is she injured?"</div>
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"No," Harildis answers, "That is, I don't know. I set out looking for you before...before this," she sweeps her hand to indicate the chaos and fore engulfing the town. "It's the baby, my Lady had these pains in her belly, and she started bleeding..." Harildis starts to sob and cannot continue.</div>
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"I'll go with Harildis," Steren decides, "Get Jean to my horse, she'll take him to safety. Then you can tend to the wounded." Fransez nods, agreeing to her plan, and Sterren follows Harildis to the Landgraab's Keep.</div>
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The Keep had been hit by the dragon fire as well, the prison tower had fallen and fire raged in the outbuildings. The servants had put Lady Agneta in one of the bedrooms on the lower floor, the one Sterren had stayed in herself when she had been a guest here. As dangerous as it might be to stay here, with the fire so close, it would be just as dangerous to move her in her condition, Sterren decides, taking comfort from the fact that the dragons seemed to have ended their attack as quickly as it came, and that the soldiers were already working on putting out the fires they'd left in their wake.</div>
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"You are only recently with child," Sterren observes, "Two o three months at most?" she gueses. The Lady Agneta nods through her sobs. "And these pains?" she asks.</div>
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"Like knives in my womb," Agneta says, "Please, I don't want to lose my baby."</div>
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Midwifery can be the most rewarding and the most painful of her duties as healer. Sterren has dealt with the heartbreak of miscarriage before, and though Agneta's is the most physically painful she'd ever tended to, it's not the physical pain she worries about the most. "I'll do what I can," she promises, "But it may be too late."</div>
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It was an ordeal of some hours as the poor girl labored and finally gave birth to a twisted, gnarled and inhuman mass, nothing like Sterren had ever seen or even heard of. The words Winterdream spoke to her in her dream echo in her thoughts, that Reinier had fallen under a curse that threatens all he loves. It cannot be a coincidence that the dragons attacked moments after Agneta's pains began, and the unusual nature of Agneta's miscarriage suggests a supernatural cause.</div>
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"You're going to be all right," Sterren whispers, soothing as she wipes the sweat from Agneta's brow and settles her back into bed, "You should rest now."</div>
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"My baby..." Agneta sobs.</div>
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"I'm sorry," Sterren whispers sadly, knowing that her consolation will be of no help.</div>
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Reinier had been on the road home when the attack came; even at their distance, they could see the dragon fire raining down from the sky onto Odet. He'd left the bulk of his army to ride ahead with a select number men, pushing their horses to gallop their fastest, arriving too late to stop the dragons. They had laid waste to his town, his people, terrorized and frightened, scrambled about to tend to the wounded, rescue those trapped in the destroyed and burning buildings, and to put out the fires. His men immediately rushed to aid them, but Reinier's only thought was for Agneta as he ran into the smoldering remains of his keep. The small huddle of servants tending to their wounds in the great hall told him that Agneta had escaped imjury in the onslaught, but that she'd some trouble with the baby, and they directed him to the room where they'd put her.</div>
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The servants had told him a midwife was with her, but of course, they couldn't have known who Sterren was to tell him her name. Of all the things he might have thought when he saw her, tending to his wife in her greatest need, it was just relief he felt, knowing Agneta was in the hands of the best healer he knew, even if he cannot begin to explain to himself how she came to be here.</div>
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"Agneta...is she...?"</div>
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"She is well," Sterren answers his unfinished question, rising to let him take her place at his wife's side, "But exhausted. The child, I'm afraid, is gone." Though she would have preferred getting out of Odet without encountering him, she's is happy for Agneta's sake, at least, that he's arrived. </div>
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Reinier takes her hand in his, heart breaking as he sees her eyes rimmed red with crying and the stains of tears across her cheeks. "Oh, my love," she sobs, "Our baby..." she chokes, unable to say the words.</div>
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He rest his cheek against her hand, letting his tears moisten her fingers. Since he got her letter in ort de Lanne, he had thought of little else than his joyful homecoming, Agneta's smile and sparkling eyes ever in his thoughts, and he longed for nothing more than to be with her. Seeing her thus, mourning the child that she had wanted so much, is as devastating as the sight of his town on fire. "I rode as soon as I got your letter," he whispers, his lips caressing her fingers as he speaks, tasting his own tears,, :It was not soon enough."</div>
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"You are with me now," she answers, closing her eyes, only able to relax now that Reinier is by her side again. Reinier gently lays her hand down by her side, leaving her to sleep.</div>
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Sterren had heard the couple's brief exchange while she had been cleaning up, and is moved to pity by Reinier's grief. "She will recover," she promises him in a strained whisper, "She can still bear children, I'm certain."</div>
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"Thank you for helping her, Sterren," Reinier answers, his voice breaking on her name, torn by his own emotions, his love Agneta, his sorrow for their shared loss, his unresolved feelings for his first love, standing before him now, carrying his child, and very possibly wishing she weren't. "She wanted this child so badly. I told she was so young...why did this happen, Sterren?"</div>
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He reaches tentatively for her, an unconscious gesture, just to touch her belly, to make contact with the child he cannot acknowledge.</div>
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"Don't you dare touch me," she hisses at him in sudden anger, the words Winterdream spoke about the curse that threatens everything he loves ringing clear in her mind, fearing for the fate of the child she carries, "Do not ever come near my child!"</div>
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"I didn't mean..." Reinier fumbles for an apology, shocked by the strength of her rage. </div>
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"This was a peaceful place before you came," Sterren growls through clenched teeth, "We never had trouble with the dragons. You came here bringing war and destruction, and now you've stirred up the dragons and even the fae against you, and their wrath touches us all. You brought all this death and misery down on all of us. The fae have cursed you, and that curse stole the child from your wife's womb. This is your doing, Reinier, and I fear you will destroy us al before this is done."</div>
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"Curse?" Reinier sputters, "What curse?"</div>
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"Tend to your wife. End your wars. It may not yet be too late," Sterren, avoiding answering him directly, wishing she had never spoken about the curse, not sure if it would bring her bad luck to tell him of it. She whirls away, rushing out of the room before he can think to detain her, hoping that Shayeleigh will somehow know to appear when she needs her. Taran will be worried, she thinks with regret, and no doubt very surprised by the young Jean delivered to his doorstep in place of his wife.</div>
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Alone with Agneta now, Reinier kneels by her bedside, making a silent prayer to the Watcher for health.</div>
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"That was her," Agnet whispers, quiet and hoarse, "I heard you say her name."</div>
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"It was," Reinier answers truthfully, "She's an excellent healer. I am glad that is was she who tended to you."</div>
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"She was kinder to me than I would have been to her if our situation were reversed," Agneta says.</div>
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"That's not true," Reinier admonishes her gently, "You are kindness itself."</div>
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"To you, I am. But I don't know that I could do for her what she did for me, knowing that she carries your child." Her lips quiver as she speaks of the child Sterren carries, the one that still lives and will be born. "Is it true, what she said, that the fae demons have put a curse on you?" she whispers hoarsely as the tears begin to flow anew.</div>
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"If it's true, they meant to punish me, my love, and you are suffering for my sins," Reinier answers, unable to hold his own tears in any longer, "This is my doing. I am so sorry, so sorry."</div>
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Agneta pulls him down closer, looking into his eyes with a sad and gentle firmness, "Do not say these things, my husband. You are a good man, and righteous. These dragons who attack us in the night, destroying our city, are monsters who deserve to die. These fae demons who would steal the life of an unborn child as punishment to the father are evil incarnate. They have hit us hard, my love, but I know you are strong, and you will strike back, harder. In the name of the Watcher, you will drive these dragons and demons for these lands, cleansing it for decent people to live in safety."</div>
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"Yes," Reinier whispers with eyes closed, her words reminding him of his purpose, and casting out the doubts Sterren had sown in his mind.</div>
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"Swear it, Reinier," Agneta insists, "Swear to me that you will punish these vile demons who took our baby. Swear to me that you will destroy them all."</div>
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"I swear it, Agneta," Reinier promises, "I will not rest until every dragon and every fae demon has been driven from this land. They will pay, all of them will pay, for what they've done."</div>
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yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-84242591447110267922013-11-23T08:51:00.001-08:002013-11-23T08:51:43.349-08:00Chapter 47: Seven Dragons<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It was worse than even their worst fears. The dragons had attacked the embattled human armies in force, but despite the warnings they had had, from Kelyn, from Morvyn, from Ceyrth and even from the fairies, they were not prepared for the devastating effect the metal's power would have on them.</div>
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Many humans, from both opposing armies had been slain in the initial onslaught, but it was not enough to overcome them, and even with the human losses, a larger number of them remained to fight against the attacking dragons. Many humans died, but no number of human deaths could make up for the dragons lost in their attack. Six dragons had fallen, and the battle was not yet over. They could still hear the shouts and screams coming from the battlefield below.</div>
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"He'll recover, in time," Morvyn says, his voice hoarse. Brant and Derrell, two of Ailidh's mates, had chosen to learn to fight with weapons rather than join the attack in dragon form, but the few weeks they'd had to prepare before the day of the attack had not been enough, and Brant was gravely wounded early on. Morvyn's own months of training with Kelyn and Ceyrth had not truly prepared him for the reality of war on the ground, facing numerous opponents from all sides, the distraction of noise, the dust, the blood, the confusion of battle. He and Derrell, along with Ceyrth covering their retreat with his bow, had barely been able to get the wounded Brant away from that field to a camp far enough from the metal's radius of effect for Morvyn to be able to use his healing magic on him.</div>
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The piercing cry of a dragon breaks over the din. It's Aymeri, and, thankfully, it's not the death cry they had had to endure six times already that day. Aymeri's cry is one of retreat, calling an end to their attack. His cry is followed by Aeaea's, calling to her surviving mates to flee the field. That accounts for two of the three nests that took to the battlefield today. Derrell kneels, his arms and chest tensed as he waits to hear the call of his mate, Ailidh, calling back those of his brothers who had survived the day.</div>
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Ailidh's cry rises above the others, the shrieking scream of death, the last dragon to fall to battle against the mortals armed in their magic metal. Brant winces as he tries to rise from the ground at the dying call of his mate.</div>
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"You can't do anything for her," Morvyn says, restraining Derrell from running heedlessly to his dying mate, "There's nothing down there but death."</div>
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A rasping groan of pain and misery is all the response Derrell can muster as his shoulders slump forward, impotent, knowing Morvyn is right, there's nothing he can do now. His mate his dead, his remaining nest brothers are fleeing the field along with Aymeri and Aeaea's nests. Morvyn would speak words of comfort, if he had them. But there are no words that could possibly assuage this pain or restore this loss, no comfort even in being among the survivors. If it were Kelyn...Morvyn shakes his head, trying to rid himself of that thought. When he and Ceyrth pulled Derrell and Brant away from the fighting, Kelyn had insisted on staying behind, to try to get close enough to the dragonslayer to take him down, even as their kindred were falling from the skies around them. In her regular form, she would not make a death cry if she were slain, and Morvyn has no way of knowing her fate.</div>
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Ceyrth raises his bow at the slight rustle in the foliage around their camp. </div>
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"Speak now, or die," the alfar growls a challenge at the interloper. Morvyn stands by him, ready to fight off any intruder.</div>
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"It's me," Kelyn says, stepping into view. Ceyrth sighs, his relief audible as he drops his bow.</div>
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Morvyn rushes forward to meet her, taking her in his arms. "I did get one arrow in him. In the weak spot below the shoulder joint in his armor," she says, not needing to say the name of her target, "But he didn't fall. It wasn't enough to end him. And I never got another chance at him."</div>
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She lays her weary head against her mate's shoulder and he he holds her tight in his arms, embracing her in silence. There are no words for the horrors of this day and no solace for what they've lost.</div>
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High up in his room in Port-de-Lanne's castle, Reinier can still hear the din from below, muffled by the thick stone walls. In the great hall of the castle, his men are celebrating their victory. Not only did they take Port-de-Lanne, but they had felled seven dragons. Seven dragons in one battle, when to date, no dragonslayer had ever faced more than one of the fierce beasts at a time, Reinier's heart still races with the excitement of that unexpected victory, and the knowledge that his glory and renown would be legend from this day forward. He had personally felled three of the creatures with his own sword, while the other four fell to hi men fighting in groups.</div>
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But this victory had come at great cost, whole regiments, from both opposing armies, had fallen to the fiery breath of the immense creatures, crowds dying beneath their talons, including the Lord of Port-de-Lanne himself, along with his heir and his best knights. As soon as the dragons set on them, killing men without regard for which banner they fought under, the battle ceased being a fight between two armies and became a united defense against the fire-breathing monsters. The dragons had handed Port-de-Lanne to Reinier, but Port-de-Lanne was only the first of the Landgraab lord's intended targets, and the dragons had decimated his forces, leaving him less able to press a successful attack on the next of Penguilly's allies that he meant to take.</div>
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Along with the music and shouts of celebration coming from the hall below, Reinier also hears the wails of mourning and the screams of the wounded, and he has no celebration in his heart, despite the victory he'd had this day.</div>
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The dragons had come at them in a unified attack, something that had never been seen in the recorded history of mankind. In the oldest stories, groups of men would encounter dragons by chance while hunting or cutting wood in the forests, and one of his Landgraab ancestors would set out to rid the area of the beasts to provide safe passage for his people. In Reinier's own time, these chance encounters were rare, and a dragonslayer would have to hunt for his prey, luring the beasts out into the open to be slain. Sometimes, after he'd slain one, another would come after him within a few days or even hours, as though it meant to take revenge for its fallen brother. The scholar priests insisted that this could not be so, that the dragons were dumb beasts who did not possess intelligence enough to conceive of revenge.</div>
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Priests cloistered behind church walls have little enough experience with beasts in the wild, Reinier thinks with scorn. Even the dumb ones are intelligent enough to recognize a threat, to fear death and rage when one if its kind is felled. But this dragon attack today, this was something far different than the instinctual response of animals. This was planned ahead of time, by creatures with intelligence and forethought.</div>
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And it was not dragons alone. Reinier had spotted wilders in the melee, one his former prisoner, with his unmistakable blue-tipped white hair. He'd lost sight of them in the dust and confusion of battle, and had not seen them again after that one glimpse, but he did lay eyes on a female wilder later. It was her arrow that found him, giving him the only wound he suffered in today's battle. Reinier hasn't forgotten that it was a female wilder who assassinated his brother, or the words she spoke to him as she sunk her knife between his ribs "You'll never slay another dragon."</div>
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Today's attack proved his belief in a connection between the wilders and the dragons. Until today, he'd assumed the wilders served the demon lizards, perhaps sacrificing their children or virgins to them, as ancient tales suggest. But now he's begun to suspect that the relationship is the other way around, and it is the wilders who are the masters. Only a human mind could formulate a battle plan, after all. Beasts of the wild hunt for prey and only attack men when provoked. Never have even the most savage beasts stalked a field of battle or engaged in a fight between the armies of men.</div>
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"Reinier, brother, you are missing the celebration!" Gunteras Goth, Agneta's brother, breaks Reinier's reverie, "The men all shout your name and toast your victory. You should be there."</div>
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Reinier nods solemnly. Though he may not be in a mood for revelry, he has a duty to his men, and to the people of Port-de-Lanne who he has just conquered. "I should see to the wounded first," he decides, "And then I'll join the feast in the great hall."</div>
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"You are a dragonslayer now, yourself," Reinier points out to his young brother-in-law, "And I promised your father a lordship. Port-de-Lanne will require some rebuilding, but it is need of a lord..."</div>
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Before Gunteras can properly express his gratitude for this promotion, a squire interrupts with a message for Reinier. "It come from Odet," the squire explains as he hand the scroll to Reinier.</div>
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Reinier takes a chair by the fire to read the scroll, written in Agneta's delicate hand. He smiles to himself as he reads about the inconsequential details of her responsibilities as Odet's mistress, hearing the lilt of joy in her voice as though she were whispering the words in his ear. He's been away from her now for some two months time, and he's missed her tender touch more than he'd realized, especially since their communication has been so limited.</div>
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"I have one piece of important news," she concludes her missive, "One which I hope will please my dearest lord, and not be a cause for disappointment. As I had hoped, you have left me with child, and we shall have our heir, perhaps sooner than you had anticipated. I pray every morning and every evening for your swift victory, my beloved husband, so that you may return to your growing family all the sooner, and receive my most tender embraces. Your most loving wife, AL."</div>
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"Good news, then?" Gunteras surmises from the smile spreading across Reinier's face.</div>
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"It seems you are to be an uncle," Reinier answers him.</div>
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Gunteras laughs heartily, "I <i>am</i> an uncle; my elder brothers and sisters have already bestowed that title on me. But I am honored to be the first to congratulate you, brother."</div>
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"Now that you're a lord in your own right, you'll be needing to find a wife of your own," Reinier teases as he dresses to go back down among the people. "I'll be riding for Odet on the morrow, but you should remain here to get Port-de-Lanne in order."</div>
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"Aren't you going to press the attack against Cadillac next?"</div>
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Reinier nods, "Cadillac will fall soon enough. But the dragon attack has weakened us. I'll need time to regroup before setting off to another battle. I will return home in the meantime."</div>
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"You are too sentimental for your own good," Gunteras laughs, knowing that Agneta is the real reason behind Reinier's sudden decision.</div>
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"I have returned, my love, as I promised," Aymeri speaks quietly, leaning over pond where he and Ico would go to make love in private, away from the nest. Her anger at him would not be appeased by loving words or promises, and she had not stayed to bid him farewell before he and Seirian and Fearghus had left for battle. Instead, she'd retreated to her waters to sulk.</div>
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"You were right, my love," he whispers, broken and tearful, "We lost much and gained nothing. Seven dragons lay dead, while the dragonslayer yet lives."</div>
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She does not respond, so he steps further into the water, immersing himself in her essence. "I need you, my love," he says, "Can you not forgive me?" The water ripples around his chest, caressing him. "Please, Ico," he pleads, "Come back to me."</div>
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She relents, finally, and emerges from the waters, holding their babe in her arms.</div>
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"I call her Lusinea," Ico says, "And you must promise you will not go back to fight against the mortals again."</div>
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"I swear it," Aymeri promises, "I will ever be at your side."</div>
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yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-16881834973566779182013-11-17T06:52:00.001-08:002013-11-17T06:52:59.260-08:00Chapter 46: My Vengeance<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Not since the great war, when the dragons united to fight Aithne and her followers, had so many nests gathered in place for a conference. And once it again, it was war which had brought them all together. Not their war, but that of the mortal who called himself dragonslayer, fighting against his own kind, ravaging the lands that had once belonged to dragons and fae alone in long gone time before mankind had arrived.</div>
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Ailidh, an elder dragon who brought only three of her dozen mates to sit with her in council, is first speak, "I have grown used to seeing your fairies by your side, Aymeri, but are we now giving those fae that are not of you nest their own seat by our fire?" she asks, nodding at Auberon's group seated across from her.</div>
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"Auberon is here by my invitation," Aymeri say, his tone throwing down a challenge to anyone who would defy his decision.</div>
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"I remember a time when my kind and yours held separate places in these lands, and we went years, even centuries, before our first face-to-face encounter," Auberon answers in a gentler tone, smiling at the dragon who asked him here, "Those times are long gone, the forests shrink with every year, and it is our magic as much as yours that protects what little we have we have left from human encroachment."</div>
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Ailidh shrugs and makes no further objection to the presence of the fae at their council.</div>
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"I remember those days as well," Aeaea says, "There were hundreds of nests in a forest that stretched for miles. Now our kind are spread far, our nests driven apart by the human villages and towns that have grown up here. We've lived away from their kind, and let them take more and more land, and stayed well-hidden from them. But now this dragonslayer has come, making war on the town nearest to my nest, taking our trees, burning our forests. And killing my youngest, who had only just learnd to take his form and fly as a dragon."</div>
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"He took my son, too," Aymeri growls, "The humans can kill and make war on each other all they like, but this dragonslayer must die for his crimes against us."</div>
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"If that were an easy task, he and all the dragonslayers who came before him would be dead already," Inira says, "This one killed my son, and long before that, a dragonslayer from a previous generation killed my Second. There was not a nest in the lands around the Landgraab's holdings who hadn't lost someone to one dragonslayer or another. That is why Fearghus and I came back here, to the land we were born in. hoping to be finally done with the dragonslayers."</div>
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"We will have vengeance for our dead, and we will put an end to this dragonslayer," Aymeri promises, "He attacks us singly, but he has never faced us in our numbers, or tasted the wrath our united nests can bring."</div>
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"The war that rages now has already wrought devastation on the land, and has even touched our forests. And you answer to that is more war?" Jennicor asks, rising to speak, with Auberon at her side.</div>
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"We mean to put an end to the dragonslayer and his war," Aymeri counters.</div>
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"Then you should be aware, he has brought more of that strange metal here, in vast quantities, and has armed all his men with it," Jennicor answers, "Our magic, dragon or fae, is useless in its presence."</div>
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"We are dragons; we do not fight with magic, but with our strength. I have no fear of this strange metal," Ailidh declares.</div>
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"You should," Morvyn counters, "Our strength in dragon form comes from magic. And that metal is what allows the dragonslayers to take us down. I've felt its effect myself."</div>
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"In the northern lands, we arm ourselves as the humans do," Kelyn adds, "And fight them with their own weapons. It's the only way."</div>
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Their advice is met with the scorn of the elder dragons. "We fight as dragons, not as men," Ailidh scoffs, and even Aymeri, who Morvyn believed was the greatest hope they had of seeing reason and being willing to change, dismisses the idea of dragons fighting with weapons.</div>
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The council ends with the dragons declaring war, planning to attack the dragonslayer's army as a group, in dragon form. Kelyn and Morvyn insist they will fight with weapons, and try to get close enough to the dragonslayer to kill him personally. Ceyrth chooses to stay out of the battle, and remain with Riain, Shayeleigh and Ametair to defend their forest home if need be.</div>
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"I fear many more of our kind will meet their end in this battle," Kelyn whispers to her mate, who can only share her worries.</div>
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Their worry for their kind and the war looming ahead of them brings Morvyn and Kelyn a sleepless night.</div>
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"If I hadn't stupidly killed his brother, the dragonslayer wouldn't even have an army," Kelyn sighs in regret, "Before he took Odet, he only had his his personal guard. Now he rules a whole town and gathers an army."</div>
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"It was an honest mistake," Morvyn tries to soothe her, though he knows what she says is true.</div>
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"Don't do that," Kelyn says, rising up to look her mate in the eye, "Don't try to comfort me and tell me I meant no harm. In my rush for vengeance, I did cause harm, and I must own it."</div>
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"All right," Morvyn agrees, "You did a foolish thing. But you know I've done my share of foolish things as well. Talfryn died because of my my mistakes, and I survived being imprisoned by the dragonslyer. I've wasted enough time brooding over what I cannot change. Now I, we, must find a way forward."</div>
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"We must slay the dragonslayer," Kelyn answers.</div>
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"Before he slays any more of us."</div>
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Kelyn falls on him, kissing him passionately. A sudden cry comes up from the room below them. "That's Evie," Morvyn murmurs, "We should check on her."</div>
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They find Evie sitting on the bed they'd made for her in the house they built for their nest, groaning and crying as she holds her belly. Ico had explained to him that pregnancy goes faster for fairies than it does for dragons, but Evenfall's pregnancy has defied even fae standards. Though she must have conceived close the the same time that Ico had, her belly had expanded at a far greater rate, and now she seemed ready to deliver far ahead of the expected schedule.</div>
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Morvyn rarely has the chance to make use of his skills as a healer, and this is the first birth he's ever attended.</div>
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After only an hour of labor, Evenfall delivers a daughter, who she names Paerys. She has Talfryn's coloring, but the sparkling lights, the same dark red as her father's hair, belie the fae nature she inherited from her mother.</div>
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Morvyn senses his mate's regret and sorrow as they leave Evie asleep with her daughter and return to their own bed in the loft, and he knows that isn't the war she's thinking about.</div>
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"We are immortal," he reminds her gently, taking her hand, "We have a long time to have our own child."</div>
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"But the older I get, the less chance I have of another fertility cycle," Kelyn reminds him.</div>
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Fertility has been on Morvyn's mind much of late, with both Evie and Ico falling pregnant so close together, after thousands of years of being childless, as though to make up for Talfryn's loss. Fairy magic follows no rules he or any dragon can understand, but his parents had told him of the sudden increase in fertility among dragonkind after they returned from war. That was how Seirian and Arienh had become mates, how he had been conceived and born. But as the centuries passed and the human villages spread further and became town, the dragons declined, so that even the young females no longer bore as many children as their elders had before him. </div>
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"There is a balance to everything," Morvyn muses out loud, "The world perhaps can only sustain so many dragons. Our numbers are held in check." What he doesn't say aloud is that this upcoming war and the deaths that might follow, might spur a new rise in fertility, and give them the chance to have their own child.</div>
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"Let the others go to war, beloved. Your place now is with me, and with our child," Ico pleads.</div>
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"The dragonslayer killed my son, Ico. I have to do this."</div>
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"Is vengeance more important than me, my love?" Ico asks, "I know you grieve for your son, just as Evenfall does. He left their child without a father..."</div>
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"And you fear I will leave our child fatherless as well," Aymeri finishes her unspoken thought, "I promise you, beloved, that I will have my vengeance and come home to you."</div>
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"And how can you make that promise?" Ico demands, "You cannot see the future. You cannot know what will happen..."</div>
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"I will not allow any man to take me from you," Aymeri says, "I can promise you that."</div>
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Ico's fears are not assuaged, but she knows there is no convincing him to stay when he's so determined to go.</div>
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"Such rapid growth is unusual, even for our kind," Auberon observes, meeting his granddaughter Paerys, who had been born only the night before, for the first time.</div>
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"When I went to sleep, she was still an infant. And when I woke, she was as she is now."</div>
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"And she has not spoken?" Auberon asks.</div>
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Evenfall shakes her head, caressing her daughter's hair, "Not one word. I fear her mind may not have matured as fast as her body."</div>
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Morvyn and Kelyn awaken and join them by the pond, as puzzled by this mystery as the fae.</div>
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"Is she fully fae?" Morvyn asks, thinking of Ametair, the only other person to be born of fae and dragon parents, and who is himself neither truly fae or dragon, but something else altogether.</div>
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"I think only she can tel us who she is,' Auberon replies, 'She will be powerful, I can sense that much."</div>
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A dark scowl forms on the child's face as she speaks her first words, "I am a dragon," she says, "And I will have vengeance for my father."</div>
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"She's Talfryn's daughter, all right," Morvyn says, "And she has a dragon's spirit, even if she is fae."</div>
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yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-6393807221625888772013-10-15T15:54:00.000-07:002013-10-15T15:54:28.206-07:00Chapter 45: Comfort in Dire Times<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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"This won't be my first battle," Reinier says, taking Agneta's hand in his. Though she had spent the day in fasting and prayer while he'd been finalizing the battle plans with his men before they must set off on the morrow, she seemed to have no taste for food during their late dinner, toying with her food rather than eating it. "You shouldn't worry so. I will see to it that your brother comes to no harm as well," he promises, squeezing her fingers in his.</div>
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"How can I not worry, husband?" the sob she'd been holding back escaping with her words, "I know you are a renowned warrior, but the thought of you out on the field, exposed to mortal danger..." Agenta shudders as she sobs again.</div>
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"I know," Reinier answers her with a serious tone, "I don't go recklessly into battle, or without fear for my own life. There is always a risk," her shoulders shake as he speaks, her fingers trembling as she holds her head in her hands, "But, listen, Agneta," he continues, taking a more comforting tone, "Look at my uncles. Osbrand was a warrior and a dragonslyer like myself, and he lives even now, past his eightieth year. His brother, my uncle Osbert, took the cloth and never saw a day of battle, and yet was dead before he'd seen fifty years, done in by his own indolence. You shouldn't fear what may happen. Nothing is certain, but you can have faith in me. I mean to have my victory and come home to you."</div>
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"You must be strong, Agneta," Reinier continues, taking her hand again so that she will look at him, "For our people, you must be seen to have confidence, to not be falling into despair. They will be looking to you for guidance and leadership in my absence."</div>
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Agneta nods, swallowing the last of her tears. All her childhood had been spent preparing for this grim duty, she must not fall apart now simply because she loves her husband. A small giggle escapes her lips as her memory brings her back to her mother and her younger days.</div>
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Reinier cocks his head to the side, smiling at her mirth, "What is funny?" he asks her.</div>
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"When my father used to go off to battle or to make diplomatic visits, everything would change as soon as he'd leave. The very air we breathed seemed lighter, the sky brighter, when my mother had charge of the castle without my father there. Though we all feared for him, I'm sure, we would look forward to his next departure whenever he'd return," she tells him, her eyes sparkling over her smile, which then dims as she continues, "But now it's opposite. You are my bright sky and my sweet air, and I fear this place will be gray and dull while you are gone, my husband."</div>
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Reinier rises from his chair, their unfinished dinner erased completely from his thoughts, "We must make the most of this last night then, " he says, taking her hand to lift her from her seat, "The memory of it will have to last us both for some time until we are together again."</div>
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"We've had so little time together," she sighs as she rises to stand in his embrace, "If I could at least know I was with child before you left..." It's a foolish wish, she knows, this war had been planned since before her wedding, their marriage was hastened to meet its schedule, and her husband will be away before she can have any confirmation of whether any of their lovemaking since has borne the desired fruit.</div>
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"You worry that you might be left without an heir?" Reinier surmises, "You should not, my darling. All my wealth, my titles, my land, has been settled on you, even if you don't bear my child."</div>
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"I know," Agneta whispers, nodding, "But there is another who does carry your child..."</div>
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"That is not certain," Reinier answers, and it's not entirely a lie, though he is more than certain that Steren's child is his, in the eyes of the world, there will always be doubt, "She was not a maiden when we met. And the man she has married has claimed the child. You have nothing to worry about, sweetling. Even if she were to try to make some claim on me, which I am more than certain she will not, a bastard has few rights to his father's estate."</div>
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"That's not what I fear," Agneta says, her voice small, almost inaudible, "I am your wife. I should be the mother of your child."</div>
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"And so you will be," Reinier promises, moving to stand behind her, resting his hand over her smooth stomach, "But you are just barely seventeen, my sweet, and there is much time yet for motherhood. In truth, it is my hope that you have not conceived yet...I will be away some months, at the least, and I would miss seeing our child grow in your belly. When we do have our first child, I hope to be with you, from start to finish"</div>
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"And you are not bothered by the fact that you will a child somewhere out in the world, one you may not acknowledge or even know?" Agneta asks him.</div>
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With a heavy sigh, Reinier nuzzles her neck, keeping his lips busy against her skin while he searches for words. "I've made mistakes, and I live with my regrets," he whispers after a long pause.</div>
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"Agneta, I beg of you to let this go," he interrupts her, turning her around to face him, "Let's both of us forget the past, and instead look forward to our future," he pleads, ending any further conversation with fervent kisses</div>
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"Would you like to be on top, tonight?" Reinier asks her.</div>
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"On top? I don't understand...I am not a man."</div>
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"I am aware of that," Reinier answers with a light chuckle, "There are more ways to go about lovemaking than what we've done, my love. I thought, before I must leave you, you'd like try something new."</div>
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At first, she had taking his gentle laughter at her for mockery, but Agneta quickly learned that while her innocence amused him, it also pleased him greatly to be her instructor in the arts of love.</div>
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He laid backwards, guiding her to straddle over him.</div>
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"Like this?" she asks with a breathless sort of wonder, her lips brushing over his. She does not have to feign her naivete, for she was truly never told anything about what happens in the marital bed, and everything he's shown her has been like nothing she'd ever imagined was possible, but she does play her innocence up a little, to please him.</div>
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"Like that," he answers, his growing huskier as it does when he's aroused.</div>
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"There," he whispers as he guides her down onto him, "This is how I want to remember you while I am gone to war. I want to see you face like this, every night when I close my eyes."</div>
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"You will be too busy making war to think of me," she says, "But I shall think of you often, and see your face in my mind, in so many ways."</div>
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"Beautiful, so beautiful," he sighs, letting her set the pace as she makes love to him, discovering how to move to pleasure herself and him at the same time.</div>
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Reinier has learned much from making loves to wives of other men, most importantly, how to be a husband whose wife will be true to him. He's had only a short time since his marriage to make his wife fall madly in love with him, satisfying her body, her mind and her soul.</div>
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"I love you, Reinier," she sigh with deep contentment as she settles into his embrace to sleep.</div>
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"And I love you," he answers, squeezing her close to him. He will not abide lies in his bed, not even from himself. Love can be defined in many ways, and Reinier does love his bride, enough to kill for her, enough to lay down his life for her defense, enough to say as true to her as he trusts she will be to him. So long as he has no chance of having Sterren, at least. he thinks with chagrin, wishing he could fall asleep just one night without her entering his thoughts, polluting his dreams and tainting his marital bed.</div>
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"Would you like to fish?" Fransez suggests to his grandson, coming out of his study to find the boy seated still, staring out over the small pond in his garden.</div>
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Jean shakes his head, "I'm watching for the Lady."</div>
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"Why would you look for the Lady in my pond?" he asks in a serious tone like he'd use with an adult.</div>
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"Oh, not <i>THE</i> Lady," Jean explains, rising to face his grandfather, who never scolds him for saying what is true the way his mother does, "I know the Lady doesn't live in the water. But there is a a fairy lady who does live in your pond. I saw her," he finishes with a pout of defiance, "Mother says I imagined her, but I know. I saw."</div>
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Fransez kneels to put himself on an equal level with grandson, "You mustn't blame your mother for not believing. Very few adults are able to see the fair folk, and most will only accept what their own eyes have seen."</div>
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"But you believe me, don't you, grandfather?"</div>
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"I do believe you, Jean," Fransez says, tousling the boys hair, and smiling even though part of him wishes it were not true. Such gifts are always a burden, bestowing the bearer with great responsibilities and sacrifices, but in these days, it is perilous to be blessed by the fair folk. "But, you must understand, the fair folk only show themselves to those they choose, for their own reasons. It can be dangerous to speak to others of them. Especially now, with the new laws our Lord has enacted."</div>
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"The soldiers and that nasty priest can't burn me," Jean insists, "The fairy man will make it rain again."</div>
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"You saw a fairy man as well?"</div>
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Jean nods enthusiastically, "When that nasty priest had you tied up and they tried to burn you, he made it rain. I saw it."</div>
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Fransez strokes his beard thoughtfully. Lord Reinier had attributed the rain that had spared him from the flames that day to the benevolence of his Watcher, and Fransez was not fool enough to claim any different. But he had believed that it had been no more than a fluke of the weather. Jean has never been one to tell false tales or exaggerate, despite, or maybe because, he's been accused of it so often, and this new possibility gives him pause. The fair folk are not known for their direct intervention, but his grandson has seen more than one of them in his short life. "Times are dire indeed," he murmurs to himself, then turns his attention back to Jean, "The fair folk are powerful, Jean, but they cannot do everything, nor do they always do what is expected or wanted of them. So it is very important that you speak to no one but me of fairies or other such things. Do you understand?"</div>
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Jean nods solemnly. "The fairies might get angry if I tell their secrets."</div>
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"Indeed," Fransez says, "And some people get angry just hearing about them."</div>
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"What is it you've been putting in these pies?" Gaelle asks, taking another mouthful of the pie Sterren had made with the strange flaming fruits Auberon had given her.</div>
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"Just a concoction of herbs I came up with in my research," Sterren answers with a shrug. Though Auberon had not sworn her to any secrecy over the fruits, Sterren was reluctant to just give them to Gaelle raw, and suffer the questions that would most certainly arise, as such a fruit had never been seen before. So she baked some into a pie, and though the form of the cure surprised both Gaelle and her husband, whatever magic or medicine they contained worked. One pie a week seemed to be enough.</div>
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"It's delicious," Gaelle says, "And it's working. I feel normal again. It's a shame that no one else can eat it."</div>
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"I don't know what effect the herbs would have on someone who wasn't suffering as you were," Sterren says, her words dodging around the truth in so many ways.</div>
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Gaelle catches the hesitations in Sterren's voice, "My pregnancy has been unusual, hasn't it?" she asks, though she doesn't question it all. No pregnant woman she'd ever heard of had tried to eat a hot coal. Without waiting for the healer to answer, Gaelle continues, "You know what they say, about the wilders? That they may be of the fair folk, or some other enchanted beings?" She looks up at Steren briefly, for confirmation.<br />
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Sterren nods, reluctantly, afraid of the paths this conversation might take, still conscious of the warnings Auberon had given her. <i>The punishments against her and perhaps all your kind would be grave</i>, was what he'd said. Whoever, whatever these wilders were, they were not to be trifled with, and who knows what perils Gaelle's heedless entanglement could have brought on them. "I've heard such tales. But they are just tales, Gaelle," Sterren says, hoping to turn Gaelle's thoughts away from such musings.<br />
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"But what if they are not all just tales?" Gaelle persists, "Sometimes, when I was with Morvyn," she sighs, tears forming in the corners of her eyes, "Sometimes it did seem he was not quite human. I...cannot explain it. And I would think nothing of it, if it were not for this child I carry. For weeks, until you brought me these pies, I thought it should burn me alive from the inside. I fear...Sterren, what if this child is not human?"<br />
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Sterren frowns. She'd been wondering about this herself for some time. Would Gaelle's child require the flame fruits throughout her whole life? Were there any other special needs that would need to be catered to. Would she have some magical powers...so little is known of the wilders, she could speculate endlessly and still have no answers. "We can only wait and see," Sterren says, as much to herself as to Gaelle.</div>
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"What if the child has his hair?" Gaelle groans, "Or is born with those markings? How long are we going to be able to keep this secret?"</div>
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"I will do what I can to find a reason for these things, if it arises. With any luck the child will have your hair freckled skin," Sterren tries to smile, "Worrying about it now will do you no good."</div>
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"You aren't her," Jean says to the fairy sitting on the pond in front of him. Not the pond in his grandfather's garden, he notes. He's been here before, but can't quite remember now where here is.</div>
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"I am not her," the fairy agrees, "It wasn't you that she came to visit, young Jean, and you mustn't expect to see her again."</div>
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Jean frowns, plucking at the grass at his feet. He remembers that day he saw the fairy lady in the pond, she was talking with the friend of grandfather's that had come to visit. Jean had been hiding behind the drying laundry, spying, when he saw her. It had made him feel special, to be witness to such beauty, but she had not come for him, or even known he was there.</div>
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"Do not be sad, young Jean," the fairy says, "For I have come for you."</div>
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Jean brightens at her words. He has a fairy friend of his own, "Will you come whenever I call?" he asks eagerly.</div>
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"No," she answers, "But I will be there when I am needed, and be your advocate amongst my own kind. You will not remember this dream, young Jean, but you will carry my image in your heart, always, and it will give you comfort in dire times, which I fear will be coming all to soon for you and all your kind."</div>
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______________________________</div>
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I just wanted to mention, there are a few outtakes for this chapter on my <a href="http://caterpillarsims.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Simblr</a>. You can find any Summerdream related stuff there by using the <a href="http://caterpillarsims.tumblr.com/tagged/Summerdream" target="_blank">Summerdream</a> tag</div>
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yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-25066704313219002712013-09-14T09:11:00.000-07:002013-09-14T09:11:11.776-07:00Chapter 44: With You Always<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Transformation is a painful process, but usually a quick one, the pain passing as the dragon emerges from the smaller, frailer shell of the body. </div>
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But during the bonding ritual, the form is held part way through the shift, the body caught in an in between stage, and the pain endures as the mind struggles against the body, willing it to hold this unnatural form, to stand on the precipice without tipping too far in either direction.</div>
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Electricity crackles from the ground, summoned by the mental energy expended by the dragon pair as they halt their transformation, enduring the pain as they will their bodies to stop mid-shift.</div>
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The bonding ritual has always been a test for fledgling dragons as they prepare to leave the nests of their birth, and the marks they add to their skins during this process are the proof of the control they exert over their own flesh. A female will go through for each mate she takes, much as she will have to endure the pain of childbirth multiple times, and it is she who marks herself first before marking her mate's flesh, claiming his body and will to herself. Males are only required to be so tested once in their immortal lives, but many seek to prove their strength by undergoing self-marking after they've been mated, choosing their own marks as a sign of their own identity and will.</div>
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Though they had remained unmated, both Morvyn and Talfryn had undergone self-markings just prove themselves as mature adults, for only juveniles bear no marks on their bodies at all. Kelyn, too, had taken her own marks without having marked a mate, for much the same reason.</div>
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The self-marking proves a dragon's strength and self-mastery. A bonding ritual is that and more, normally a sign of submission of the male to the female as he takes her mark and swears himself to her nest, to protect her children. </div>
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Kelyn twines herself around her mate, and he covers her hands with his own. </div>
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"Are you ready?" she asks, her voice low, growling almost, forcing herself to use words during a rite normally endured in silence.</div>
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"I am," Morvyn answers.</div>
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Together, they mark each other with the signs they'd chosen, neither of them taking dominance or submission, both acting together as a unit.</div>
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And when the ritual is done, they can let go of the struggle, letting their bodies relax back into the natural state, forever marked with the proof of their endurance and of their enduring bond.</div>
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"Do you think your mother would like a dagger?" Kelyn asks breathlessly as she slips down to the ground beneath him.</div>
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"Why are we talking about my mother, now?" Morvyn asks with a laugh.</div>
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"It's the traditional gift, where I'm from. But you don't arm yourselves here as we do..." she answers, "If not a dagger, I'm not sure what to offer her."</div>
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"My mother has long given up hope that I'd ever settle down and join a nest," Morvyn answers, "I don't think she'd care at this point about what sort of gift, if any, you thought to offer."</div>
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"'If any?'" Kelyn laughs, "You can't just take someone's son out of her nest and not offer the traditional recompense. So, I have a lovely dagger the Alfar gave me, with a hilt carved of ivory..."</div>
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Morvyn quiets his mate with his tongue, kissing Kelyn deeply as he takes her breast in his hand.</div>
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Reinier mutters something incomprehensible as he fumbles with his pants, conscious of his audience as he undresses. He should, he knows, be thankful for the many the many blessings bestowed on him. His marriage is a political alliance, but his bride is not only pretty enough to please the tastes of any man, she's also educated and clever enough to satisfy his own tastes for a woman he can share more than just his bed with. And above all, she's clearly inclined to make their marriage an affectionate one, no matter that it was forged of an alliance between his father and hers.</div>
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She giggles nervously when he finally wins his battle with his trousers, and for a moment he thinks she's mocking him, until he notices the pink blush spreading over her pale cheeks. "I've never seen...a man..." before giggles again, gesturing in his direction before covering her mouth with her hand, shaking with laughter.</div>
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"I don't suppose you would have," Reinier manages to say. And of course he knew she was a maiden, he'd expect no less of the girl sold to him in marriage. Still, it's not something he relishes. He's been with many women since he came of age, and not one he'd had the duty of deflowering himself; the dissatisfied wives of his father's bannermen, whores he'd paid for pleasure of their company, and Sterren, no man's wife and certainly no whore, just a woman who chose to take her pleasures where she would...Reinier bites his lip as Sterren's image intrudes on his wedding night. He would have given anything to her her in his marital bed, but she turned him down, and now has no place in it, not even in his thoughts.</div>
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"I am ready, my husband," Agneta whispers, rolling onto her back, her chest rising and falling as she breathes, in and out, trying to will herself into a state of calm, as her mother had taught her to do.</div>
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"You are nervous," Reinier observes, lying beside her, stroking hr cheek gently as she trembles beneath his touch, "But you shouldn't be afraid."</div>
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"I'm not afraid," she whispers, the tremor in her voice belying her words.</div>
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"Agneta, I want you to promise me something," he says.</div>
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"Anything, my lord."</div>
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"Reinier," he says, "In our bed, at least, call me by my name. Outside this chamber, I am your lord husband, and you are an obedient wife. But here, when we are alone...I want your honesty, at all times. Tell me truthfully what you think and feel, even if you know it is not what I want to hear." </div>
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Agenta bites her lip, nervous. What he's offering her is more than she ever hoped for in marriage. "I've never been so open with anyone, never had a friend I could trust so intimately," she whispers, wondering to herself if she will be able to do as he asks, or if he even means it. What man truly wishes to know what his wife is thinking? "I am afraid, a little," she admits, givinghim the honesty he asks of her now, her hands trembling as she speaks, "I fear what it will mean for me if I do not please you."</div>
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Reinier lifts her to seated position, straddling her as he lifts her toward him. "That isn't something you need to be afraid of," he promises with a whisper, his lips meeting hers in a gentle kiss. His tongue tastes faintly of the wine they drank at their wedding feast. But he is not drunk, she notes, and remembers how sparingly he partook of both food and drink during the long night of celebration. Though she's known him only a short time, Agneta has observed him well, and has already made out the sort of man her father gave her in marriage, a man who does everything with deliberation, a man who does not hurry. That temperance shows even now in the way he kisses her, letting his tongue explore her mouth, as his hands caress her back and her neck.</div>
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The slow caresses and tender kisses work some magic over her racing heart, stilling her fears, calming her nerves, and with a whimpering sigh her body relaxes, her hands unlocking from the tense grip they held on the bedclothes.</div>
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Reinier notes the change in her attitude, the way she's begun to respond to his kisses and to his touch, and moves his fingers to the laces of her bodice. "May I remove this?" he asks, breathing huskily into her ear, teasing her earlobe with his tongue.</div>
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She giggles, nervous again, trembling a little as she nods her assent, her hair caressing his chest. "Yes," she whispers, "Yes."</div>
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Her gasp of surprise as he reaches a hand between her legs is followed by a moan of pleasure. "Is that...is this how it's done?" she asks in a tiny voice.</div>
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"You sweet innocent," Reinier answers with a chuckle, "This is only how we begin." Holding her against him, he continues working her sex with his fingers until she shudders in his arms, a gush of wetness pouring out from her.</div>
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She rests her head against his shoulder, "I am so sorry," she sobs, embarrassed by her body's involuntary response, her face flush with a pleasure she hadn't known was possible, "I didn't mean..."</div>
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"Sssh," he whispers, trying not to laugh at her innocence, "Don't be sorry. All is as it should be."</div>
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She's as ready now as she ever will be, so Reinier lays her back down on the bed beneath him. "This will hurt," he murmurs a warning, not sure what, if anything, she's been taught, "But I will be gentle as I can. After this first time, it will be only pleasure, I promise."</div>
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Agneta's mother had spoken only of grim duty to be endured for the sake of getting children, her brother Victor's wife never spoke at all of the privacy of her marital bed, but the bruises she's sometimes bore told of cruelties she would not put into words, but from the whispers of the maids as they went about their business, Agneta heard another story, one of the pleasures to be had from a man. So she came to her marriage bed without expectation, fear and hope intermixed in equal measure. Already now she's tasted the pleasure at his hands, and as her husband thrusts himself inside her, she has a taste of the pain, tempered by the soothing caress of his lips against her her neck, his hands on her hips as he guides her in their dance. A relieved sigh passes through her lips as she silently thanks her Watcher for her fate.</div>
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"Reinier," she whispers his name, enjoying the feel of it on her tongue, and the intimacy the use of it infers, "Am I pregnant, now?"</div>
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His arms tighten around her shoulders, squeezing her affectionately, "We won't know that right away. But don't be so concerned about getting an heir so soon. You are so young, Agneta, and there is more than enough time."</div>
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She lays against his chest, listening to the beating of his heart, feeling the rhythm of his breathing. "I don't like that another woman will have your child before I do," she says, trying out the honesty he asked of her again. "Reinier?" she calls his name again when he makes no response, and discovers that he's fallen asleep.</div>
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"Reinier."</div>
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He comes awake at the sound of his name. "Sterren?' he gasps, "You shouldn't be here."</div>
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"Do you want me to leave?" she asks, teasing him with her smile as she runs her fingers over his lips.</div>
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"Never," he answers, sitting up to grasp her around the waist, "Never leave me, Sterren."</div>
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"Never?" she asks, pushing him back down on the bed, straddling him, "How can you have me when you belong to another?"</div>
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"We belong together, Sterren. You know this, in your heart, though you persist in denying it."</div>
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"You could have had me," she reminds him, "You had only to give up everything you have to be with me."</div>
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"I couldn't do that, Sterren. What you ask of me is too much..."</div>
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"And so you can't have me," she answers with a laugh, and moves away from him as though she intends to leave.</div>
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"No," he says, pulling her back down onto the bed, "Don't leave me, not again."</div>
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She laughs as she wraps her legs around his neck, lifting her hips to meet his cock as he enters her. "Marry me, Sterren," he says, "Stay with me. I will give you everything I have, and our children will rule the world."</div>
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"I don't need the world," she says, her voice husky with passion,"All I ever wanted was you."</div>
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They fall back together in a satisfied embrace. "I have missed you," she whispers, nuzzling againt his neck. "I cannot bear to leave you again."</div>
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Reinier squeezes her close, and she clings to him, twining her leg over him. Holding her again was more than he dared hope for, and now that she is his finally and forever, his happiness is complete.</div>
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When he wakes in the early hours of morning, Reinier doesn't have to open his eyes to know the woman he holds is not he one he dreamed of. The feel of her skin, the scent of her hair, is not Sterren's but Agneta's. It would be unmanly for him to cry over a dream, so he forces back the tears that strain to free themselves, and presses his lips together to keep a sob from escaping.</div>
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"Come away," Treveur warns, "You're too close to the fire."</div>
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Gaelle doesn't heed him, instead reaching her hand into the flames, yelping in pain as her fingers close around a coal.</div>
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Treveur grabs her, pulling her away from the fire before she harms herself, taking the hand that reached for the coal ad kissing it where it blisters. "Beloved," he sighs, "What were you trying to do?"</div>
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"I wanted...I thought if I ate a coal, it would quench this burning in my womb," she answers with a sob, knowing as the speaks the words how foolish it sounds.</div>
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"By the Lady!" Treveur gasps t her intention, "If I had not been here to stop you..." Kissing her hand one more time, he called for servant to fetch Sterren and another he charged with keeping an eye on his wife at all times. lest she try something like this again.</div>
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Sterren came to the Brannon farm as soon as she was called for, and like Treveur, she is aghast when they tell her what Gaelle tried to do.</div>
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"I can't explain it, exactly," Gaelle sighs and sobs, "I just felt, somehow, that eating a coal would make this burning end. The child wants the flames, I feel it."</div>
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"That would kill the child as well as yourself, you know this, Gaelle," Sterren says, but secretly, she wonders, more and more convinced that the babe Gaelle carries is no mere human, that the wilder who fathered it is...what, exactly, Sterren cannot say. But she guesses, it is something to do with dragons. And perhaps it does want the fire...but would the mother survive eating a hot coal? Sterren doubts that very much.</div>
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"I've put a servant to watch over her, every moment," Treveur tells her, "To stop her from acting on such compulsions. But, please, Sterren, you must find a way to help her."</div>
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"I'm doing what I can," is all the healer can promise, knowing she's exhausted all but the most desperate routes.</div>
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At home, she stands before the ancient, ruined image of the Lady that has stood here since her family has kept written records of this place. It is just stone, Sterren thinks, just an image to contemplate, like the stories of the Lady are just that, stories, ideas to consider when making decision, examples of what has been done before. Sterren remembers the story she told to Reinier, the night they first made love, one of the most popular stories, of how the servant girl rescued the fairy prince and became his consort, leaving this world to join him in eternity, becoming the Lady who watches over them all. And yet in many other tales, the Lady was no abused servant in life, but a powerful healer who lived among her people much as Sterren herself does, a woman with the gift of magic, but still, just a woman, who did what she could to better her kind. As much as Sterren enjoys telling the more fabulous tales, when she contemplates on the Lady's image, it is the living healer she thinks of, who is her example in life.</div>
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"How would you help Gaelle?" she asks the stone image, expecting no answer, no divine revelation. And then she remembers, the morning she prayed for Elara, and was given the power to heal her. She remembers calling for the Lady's aid when Reinier tried to force her into marriage, and she was answered not by the Lady, but by her consort, the Prince of the Fairies. "Auberon?" she whispers his name, hope and doubt in equal measure. She waits long minutes in silence, but this time there is no magical dust, no response at all.</div>
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"I fear that my only recourse now is to find the child's father among the wilders and ask him what to do," Sterren sighs, after telling Taran of Gaelle's latest misadventure.</div>
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Taran wraps his arm across her chest, holding er close as tough she meant to run off into the wilds this very moment, "Do you think that's wise?" he asks.</div>
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"No," Sterren laughs, "I think it is very foolish. I just don't know how else to help Gaelle."</div>
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"Maybe...she cannot be helped," Taran suggests gently, knowing his wife will not want to hear this simple truth.</div>
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"I cannot give up so soon," Sterren says, turning in his embrace to lay a kiss on his lips, "But don't fear. I will not endanger myself needlessly."</div>
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"Just remember, I need you more than Gaelle does," Taran reminds her.</div>
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"Tomorrow, my love, tomorrow you will be my wife," Reinier says, his hand closing around her wrist as the other pulls her in close to him.</div>
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Sterren struggles out of his grasp, but his hands close around her arms, holding her back. "You promised,:" she accuses,"You said you would let me go!"</div>
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"Never," he answers, "You belong to me."</div>
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Her heart racing in desperate fear, Sterren wrenches he hand away, feels the magic building up inside her, preparing to release a spell on him that would give her time to escape. But he's too fast for her, grabbing her hand before she can weave a spell.</div>
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"You are mine," he insists, pushing her down to the floor, forcing himself on her, "Mine forever."</div>
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Their plan failed and Sterren was caught trying to fear his prisoner. Now she will share hi fate, locked up in the tower with the wilder.</div>
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"There is no escape," Reinier reminds her, throwing her to the ground.</div>
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"You have no right!" she shouts at him, "Release us now!"</div>
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Reinier is deaf to her pleas and demands, and leaves her locked up in the tower, alone with the wilder.</div>
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Using the key Ico gave her, Sterren unlocks his shackles. "It won't do us much good, though," she mutter, "The door remains locked."</div>
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"We don't need a door," the wilder says, looking out the window.</div>
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"It's too far to fall," Sterren tells him.</div>
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"So we must fly," he answers, and jumps out into the night.</div>
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"Wait!" she calls out to him, "I cannot fly!"</div>
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But he does not answer her as he soars up into the sky, transforming into a great dragon in mid-flight, flying away. "I have something to tell you," she calls, even though he is long out of hearing, "I need your help, for your child, the one Gaelle carries..."</div>
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Alone in her prison, Sterren sinks to the ground in despair. Even Reinier has no need or desire for her now, and she is no use to anyone, if she cannot even free herself.</div>
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"Be not afraid, daughter. I am with you always," Auberon says, lifting her chin in his hand, coming to her rescue yet again.</div>
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He brings her to the stone circle that the ancients say marks the tomb of their Lady.</div>
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"But how can it be a tomb, if she lives with you?" Sterren asks, "And why do you call me daughter?"</div>
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"You have so many questions, child," the fairy prince says, "I have answers, but your mind may not be able to withstand so many contradictions. What is, what is not, and what is both at the same time..."</div>
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"I don't understand," Sterren says.</div>
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"Nor would you remember everything I could tell you, if I chose to make you understand," Auberon says, "So I will answer only the question that presses on you immediately. You seek aid for a woman whose unborn child calls to the fire. These fruits," Auberon gestures at the bright glowing plants growing around the stones, their light brightening the circle, "Will satisfy her craving."</div>
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"And now, you must heed this warning, daughter," he continues, looking her directly in the eye, making sure she will remember, "Do not seek out the...wilders? as you call them. It is best for your kind that he not know of the child he fathered. His kind do not allow such...intermingling...and the punishments against her and perhaps all your kind would be grave. And more importantly, they must never discover the child you carry bears the blood of the one they call dragonslayer. That will not go well for you. Do you understand?"</div>
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Sterren nods, suddenly afraid.</div>
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"Remember what I have said," Auberon says, touching her forehead before taking his leave.</div>
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Though she's wearing her finest dress, Sterren kneels in the dirt to harvest the fruits Auberon showed her, so that she might bring them Gaelle.</div>
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She's never seen their like before, and marvels at the way they glow, and the heat they emit as she plucks them. Curious, she pops one in her mouth, and wonders as it burns her stomach, if this is what it is like to swallow a coal, and if the dragonslayer's child would enjoy such a meal.</div>
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Sterren startles awake, the spicy hot taste of the flaming fruit still on her tongue.</div>
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"You were tossing about all night," Taran says as her head jerks up from the pillow, "Briec used to have terrible nightmares, too, when she was pregnant. Many apparently involved her wreaking some sort of vengeance on me for putting her in that condition," he finishes with a fond smile, and then frowns when Sterren's face twists into a grimace, remembering her own dream. "I suppose you wouldn't dream about me in that way, then," he guesses.</div>
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"I did have a terrible nightmare," Sterren says, "He tried to hold me captive. He put me in his prison," she says, not needing to say Reinier's name. "But that's not the important bit. I was rescued, by a fairy. And he told me how to help Gaelle."</div>
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The plants that had grown around the stones in her dream had never been there before in life, and Sterren is not entirely surprised to find that they still do not grow there after she dreamed of them. But Auberon's message had seemed so real, so important, she had to look, at least.</div>
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A bucket resting beside one of the standing stones, very close to where Auberon had stood in her dream, catches her eye.</div>
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Crouching down close to it, she sees it full of the flaming fruits she had dreamed of the night before, left here for her by Auberon, she's sure of it.</div>
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yangthecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15083940950118677312noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678993848729349769.post-65537950516444685672013-09-01T11:59:00.002-07:002013-09-01T11:59:45.072-07:00Chapter 43: The Glimmer of Regret<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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"My Lord, I must protest!" Father Jakob exclaims, gesturing wildly with his arms in an excessive display of anger and frustration, "Scripture demands that all witches and practitioners of foul magic be executed, and you have not only spared this one, but pardoned and released him to continue practicing his black arts!"</div>
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"Are you questioning my judgment?" Reinier asks in a low, steady voice which any man would see as a warning to back down immediately and humble himself.</div>
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In his fervor, the old priest misses that warning and carries on, "It is not your place to judge on matters of Scripture!" he insists, not even softening his defiance with an obsequious 'my Lord', "It is the Watcher's will that witches be executed."</div>
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"You forget your place, priest," Reinier says, his voice grown icier as the priest's anger grows hotter, "I am the Lord here, and I decide who is executed and who is pardoned. The witch made his confession and recanted. It is done."</div>
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"But, the Watcher demands--" Father Jakob continues his protest, not recognizing the finality in his lord's tone, or even the danger his continued defiance puts himself in.</div>
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"The Watcher put out your fires with His rain," Reinier says through clenched teeth, "We all witnessed that miracle."</div>
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"The witch may have caused that rain with a spell! Or summoned a demon too make the rain!" Father Jakob persists.</div>
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"Are you suggesting, honored Father, that a witch's power could overcome the will of the Watcher even as he stood in judgment before Him?" Agneta asks in the timid tones of an inquisitive child.</div>
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The priest sighs in frustration, "Perhaps you are right, perhaps the Watcher wished us to spare the man from the flames. His confession certainly will help our cause. But releasing him and giving him leave to craft his potions and practice as a healer...that goes too far. It would be better to keep the witch imprisoned and away from the people."</div>
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"He is being watched," Reinier says, "And he knows it. If he practices any black magic, he will be imprisoned again, and face the flames."</div>
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"You say this, and yet you've given him leave to practice the healing arts."</div>
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"You do understand that I am preparing for war?" Reinier asks, wondering of the priest is truly that oblivious to all but his own interests, "A man with healing skills will be welcomed when the wounded return from battle."</div>
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"But if he uses foul magic to tend their wounds..."</div>
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"You've looked over his books yourself, the recipes for his potions and poultices come from the local flora. That can hardly be called magic," Reinier dismisses the priest's concerns with a wave of his hand.</div>
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As Father Jakob opens his mouth to protest further, Agneta steps in again, "We would be remiss to prevent a man from curing the sick or tending to the wounded," she says sweetly, "If a man with two sons gives them each a coin, and one son buries his in the ground, while the other uses his to buy a cow so that he might have milk to sell in the market, increasing his father's original coin to many coins, which son has done better by his father?"</div>
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Father Jakob pinches the bridge of his nose as he lets out a pained sigh. He was never in favor of teaching girls to read, as it only leads them to quoting the gentler Peteran passages of the Scripture and generally weakening the Faith with their womanly interpretations of Holy writ. "Surely, that parable did not mean to include the use of witchcraft," he points out, speaking to her as he would a wayward acolyte.</div>
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"So long as he isn't making incantations or prayers to his false goddess when he brews his potions, then I say it is not witchcraft," Reinier declares, "And that is my final word on this, priest. I will not hear about this issue again."</div>
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"There's nothing wrong with him," Fransez tells his daughter, "I've examined Jean thoroughly, and there's no illness I can find."</div>
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"I'm not sick here," Jean adds, "It's father's smithy that makes me ill."</div>
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Melisenet sees the look that crosses her father's eyes and says, "I know, I had the same thought. Jean has never liked helping his father in the smithy. But he is not feigning the illness that comes over him now when he goes there. I see it for myself, he grows pale and weak the closer he is to the shop. Even at home, he is listless and barely eats. It was only as we traveled from distance from our home that he began to get his former energy back."</div>
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"This never happened before," Fransez muses, "Is there anything different about the smithy now?"</div>
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"No," Melisenet answers, "Except that it's much busier now with the war preparations, The Landgraabs want everything made from this strange blue metal they've brought with them from their homelands. Weapons, armors, even the shoes for the horses are to be made from it. Gillis has had to take on an extra apprentice and even that might not be enough, Jean is young yet, but someday this smithy will be his..."</div>
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"Perhaps there's something in the metal that affects the boy," Fransez says.</div>
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"What am I to do, then?" Melisenet asks, "Gillis cannot stop the work. The Landgraabs are the only patron we have now with the wars coming."</div>
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"I could stay where with you grandfather," Jean says with a hopeful smile.</div>
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"That might be for the best," his mother agrees, "Until the work with this metal is done..."</div>
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"It is hardly safe here," Fransez points out, "His lordship pardoned me, but I am being closely watched."</div>
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"Surely you won't be doing anything to endanger yourself or our family," Melisenet says, "Please, Father."</div>
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"Please, Grandfather, let me stay with you!" Jean chimes in, and Fransez cannot resist their entreaties.</div>
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Jennicor does not often visit Auberon in his realm, so he watches her approach with some surprise. "Winterdream," he greets her as she climbs the steps he'd formed from the rocks, all the creations of his thought, "What brings you to me?"</div>
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"These mortals who have come down from the north," Jennicor answers, "They've brought a metal with them that hampers our magic and weakens our spirit, just from proximity to it."</div>
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"The dragons have spoken of this," Auberon says, "But I had not heard of it effecting the fae in the same way. How is it that you know of it?"</div>
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"That boy you asked me to visit, his father works the metal. I have felt it's power there," Jennicor answers.</div>
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"You did not mention this before, when you reported to me what you'd learnt from the boy's dreaming," Auberon says.</div>
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"The metal was not present his house then, so I hadn't felt it until recently."</div>
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"You're saying that you've returned to visit the child?" Auberon asks, a faint accusation in his tone, "I asked only that you look into his mind the one time."</div>
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"I did as you asked, Auberon," Jennicor replies, "But I not cease to exist simply because you have no further need of me. I go where I choose, and visit whomever I will."</div>
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"Getting too close to the mortals is dangerous," Auberon warns.</div>
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"No one knows that better than you, I suppose," Jennicor replies with an enigmatic smile.</div>
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Outside, a wolf howls, and Morvyn's sleep is disturbed.</div>
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Beside him, Kelyn stirs in her sleep, turning as he rises on one to arm, to watch her in the moonlight.</div>
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"Is it morning?" she asks in breathy whisper.</div>
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"Open your eyes and see," he answers.</div>
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"It's not even dawn," she whines in complaint, "Why are you awake?"</div>
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"How could I sleep, with all this tempt me?" Morvyn answers, cupping her breast in his hand, "No matter how much of you I have, it isn't enough, and I need more." Kelyn twines her leg around his as he falls onto her breast with a voracious hunger, like a predator onto his prey, his tongue painting circles around her nipple until she groans in pleasure.</div>
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"You have all of me," she whispers, hoarse and raspy with desire as she rolls him onto his back and sits astride his thighs, "And I have all of you," she continues lowering herself slowly onto him, taking him inside her.</div>
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Morvyn had thought he'd known passion with the near endless line of lovers he'd had over the centuries, but this hunger that drives him now is like nothing he's felt before, impossible to satiate, always needing more.</div>
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She feels it too, he senses it in the way she rocks against his thighs, grinding desperately as she groans his name; she needs him the way he needs her, she hungers, as he does, to be filled.</div>
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"I've lived for tens of thousands of years before you were even born," Morvyn whispers, sighing as she rolls to his side, the sweat of their bodies slick where their skin meets, content for the moment at least, until their mutual desire flares up again,"But now that I have you, I can no longer imagine a life without you."</div>
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Kelyn smiles, playing at his lips with the tip of her fingers, "You speak like a poet," she teases, Are you certain you are not part Alfar?"</div>
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"Poetry? I just speak what I feel," Morvyn says, laughing along with her, "Maybe you are too accustomed to lovers who whisper verse in your ear."</div>
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"I lived among the Alfar for a long time, 'tis true," she says, "But I never did acquire their taste for poetry and song. Nor have I had quite as many lovers as you have, my old dragon. The mortals also have a taste for verse; perhaps you learned it from the lips of one of your lovers."</div>
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"All my lovers may as well have never existed, Kelyn. I mean that," Morvyn says, serious now, done with play, "I am yours, and there will never be another."</div>
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"And I am yours," Kelyn answers, matching the gravity of his tone with her own. Some shadow passes over his eyes, and his lips twitch, just enough that she'd notice it. "What is it, old dragon?" she asks, "You know better than to hold anything back from me. Tell what you are thinking."</div>
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"I'm thinking that I love you," Morvyn answers, "And I'm thinking about what it will mean, to be your First. Talfryn was like a nest brother to me, though we did not share a mate, our bond was that deep. And Ametair as well, though he isn't entirely a dragon, and I am no wolf, he calls me pack brother."</div>
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Kelyn bites her lips nervously, "Are you saying you want me to take the wolf as my Second?" she asks.</div>
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Morvyn shakes his head, smiling at that, "No, not at all. I'm saying...I prefer having brothers who don't share my mate. I don't want to be your First, Kelyn, if that means having a Second and Third and so on."</div>
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"I spent centuries avoiding taking even one mate," Kelyn answers, "And if I hadn't found you, I may have happily remained unmated forever. I'm not sure you could find a Second for me that I would accept. You are much more than a First, my old dragon, you are my all."</div>
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He squeezes her buttocks, a smile playing on his lips, "Then I suppose I won't waste my time looking for one," he says, sighing just a little, in relief, "There is something else," he adds, "Talfryn was my brother, we were a nest unto ourselves. Evenfall carries his child, and I must help her raise their daughter, for his sake. She is as much my nest as Talfryn was."</div>
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"<i>Our</i> nest," Kelyn corrects him, "Of course we'll care for your brother's child. And get vengeance for her."</div>
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"Agreed. The dragonslayer must die," Morvyn growls, the rage against his brother's killer always boiling beneath the cool surface of his demeanor.</div>
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"He dies," Kelyn says, rising to straddle atop him again, kissing him lustily, "But not tonight."</div>
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As she had wanted, Sterren's wedding is a small family affair, and her happiness is not marred in the lightest by the absence of her aunt, who, according to her uncle, was prevented from attending due to a sudden headache, though it was obvious from him abashed blushes as his made his wife's excuses that Gwencalon's reasons for not being here had more to do with her displeasure at seeing one of her husband's family marry so low.</div>
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Though she had to invite her aunt along with her uncle, Sterren was more relieved by her absence than anything else. This day is for her and Taran alone, and for Elara and the child Sterren carries inside her, and the children she might yet bear in the future, her family, and the happiness they will share together, for as long as life lasts them.</div>
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She may never see Gothenburg again, Agneta realizes suddenly, gazing at herself dressed in the fashion of this place, her new home in the Southern countries, the sleeves tight around her arms, the skirt flowing straight in a long line. Her sister had gone away to be wed and had never returned, for that is the way of marriage.</div>
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Lady Juelina and Lady Felicia giggle and exclaim at how well the colors suit her, and how lovely a bride she will be, but their words ring hollow. They would say the same even if she were ugly. These women are not truly her friends, though she may have to spend the rest of her life in their company. She is to be married in just a few days; her mother should be here helping her choose her dress and styling her hair, not these strangers, the wives of her betrothed's men and the maid who's attended his brother's widow before she was sent off to the convent.</div>
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The glimmer of regret fades when Reinier himself appears in her mirror.</div>
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"The colors suit you," he says, the words the same as spoken by her companions, but unlike them, his appraisal is sincere. She may not be having the wedding he'd want, but the husband her father brokered for her, the man she will live with for the rest of her life, he makes up for it all.</div>
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"My lord," she stammers, and Reinier notices how she folds arms protectively over herself, "Is it the custom here to take such liberties, coming into a lady's dressing room?"</div>
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Emboldened by her smile, which belies the pleasure in his attention, despite her modest protests, Reinier takes her hands in his. "Is this your wedding dress?" he asks her.</div>
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She nods, blushing, "I thought that if I am to be the Lady here, I should adopt the local fashion."</div>
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"It looks well on you," Reinier says.</div>
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"We are all well pleased with you choice of bride, my Lord," Lady Felicia cuts in, "Lady Edelina was near overwrought at the thought of you marrying that Avendale girl."</div>
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"I heard her uncle ended up marrying her off to a peasant," Lady Juelina adds, "My maid has a cousin who attends Lady Gwencalon of Avendale, and she says the lady is furious with Lord Marrec. But he had little choice, his niece is with child, and a peasant marriage was the best he could do for her."</div>
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Agneta knows the difference between idle gossip and a pointed barb, and the scowl on her betrothed's face tells her the ladies' jabs have struck him deeply.</div>
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"Do you have nothing better to concern yourselves with than the gossip spread by ladies' maids?" Reinier asks, turning his anger on the women, "Begone, all of you. I would have a word with my betrothed."</div>
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"Avendale...that is the name of one of your enemies, is it not?" Agneta asks him once they are alone,</div>
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Reinier nods, "Marrec of Avendale was the first to make alliance with the Penguilly family against me."</div>
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"And that is why you aren't marrying his niece, instead of me?" she asks, her lower lip trembling slightly.</div>
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"Marrec had sought my hand for his niece, but it was never truly a possibility," Reinier says. And it's true, as much as he had wanted it, had tried to make it happen, he'd finally come to accept that Sterren never meant to marry him at all.</div>
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Agneta catches the hint of regret in his tone, and the meaning behind the words he doesn't say. "She was your lover," she says, turning away from him, "But you could not marry her. Because of your father, perhaps?" she guesses, "Because you are being made to marry me."</div>
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"No more than you are being made to marry me, Agneta," Reinier says truthfully, "We are both of noble houses, and you know how these things are done."</div>
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"I know it well, and I came here with my father with no expectations. But, you've been so kind to me, so attentive, I had come to hope..." she draws in deep breath and exhales a piteous sob, "I am not so naive as you must think, I know how it is with men, husbands. I do not, cannot, expect that I will the only woman in your bed. But hearing this gossip about one of your lovers before we are even married..."</div>
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"Agneta, I am above everything else, a man of my word. I don't make vows just to break them. You can, and must expect that from the moment of our betrothal, I have been yours," Reinier says, turning her so that he might caress her cheek.</div>
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"How can that be true?" Agneta asks him, "Are you so inconstant that you could love this woman and then completely banish her from your heart?"</div>
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"Despite the gossip those ladies were spreading, I know Sterren of Avendale, and her uncle could not marry her off so easily to any man. If she married at all, it would be to the man who won her heart. That man is not, and never was me." It's a painful admission to make to his bride, but he owes her that truth.</div>
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"She broke your heart," Agneta whispers, realizing the full truth of what he's telling her.</div>
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Taking her face in his hands, Reinier presses his lips to hers, softly. Agneta's arms fall limp to her side, not knowing what to do, even as her lips parts beneath his and their tongues meet for the first time in a gentle dance.</div>
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Her hands finally find their use, pressing against his chest, pushing away as her lips bids his a reluctantly farewell. "We are not yet married, my Lord," she whispers, her face glowing with a pink blush.</div>
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"You've never been kissed before," Reinier whispers.</div>
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"Certainly not," she answers, giggling slightly.</div>
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"You seemed to like it," he presses, making her blush deepen.</div>
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"I am...well content, my Lord," she sighs, throwing herself against him in a unseemly, but very warm embrace.</div>
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"Call me by my name, when we are alone," he murmurs, cradling her head against his chest, "I'm going to be your husband, after all."</div>
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"Reinier," she says, taking delight in each syllable, "My husband." </div>
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The child Sterren is rumored to be carrying was kept out of their conversation, too delicate a topic for Agneta to mention, but it remains foremost in his thoughts. If it's true, he thinks, if she's taken his child from him as well as his heart, and given them to another man...what can he do about? Making any public claim on the child would infuriate his father and jeopardize their alliance with the Goths. Certainly, Reinbolt Goth would not be pleased to hear about any potential bastards competing with the children Agneta has yet to bear him. What Sterren has done, marrying a man apparently willing to raise the child, is for best, he tells himself, trying to reconcile himself to his loss,</div>
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