Wow, it's been a while since I've written in this thing. Uh. Last thing I put down to words, was months ago. There's really too damn much to fill in the blanks, kiddos, and since you're my journal and I already bloody well know what I've been doing, really, is there a point?

And that would be me, talking like you can understand. Fantastic, like I need more reason to doubt my own mental stability.


And so we continued to argue. To go back and forth over things we’d said, things we’d thought about. Did we have the right to decide what happened to the Yenti? Could we let that thing growing under the ice out? And my own thought, that I never voiced, couldn’t bring myself to voice; if the Yenti died, would this thing stall out? Yes, it lived off the spirits, but if it’s goal was to destroy the Yenti, would the death of the Yenti stop it?

In the end, though, it all kept circling around to destroy the tower, save Darcrow’s friend. And there was no other way any of us could think of to do it.

Once it was decided- after round after round of arguing and discussing and growling at one another- the only remaining question was how do we pull it off?

It was a big bloody funnel of spirit energy. Couldn’t exactly chop it in half with one of my daggers.


Cue more circular discussion. We had a big damn dragon, which would probably be the conduit we needed, and Ann wasn’t asking. I wasn’t asking; I’d given up my chances and rights at that just- what, days ago now? Was that really how short a time it had been, just days? Weeks, at the most?

Damn, but it felt longer then that.

Anyway, we had a potential conduit but apparently not one we were allowed or going to persue. We had my stone, I pointed out; and the only thing I could really think of to do was set it in the funnel of energy and overload it.

But the overloading part was the problem. There was the amulet, but it wasn’t enough alone- and we pure and simple did not have another source of power.

We were stuck.

Darcrow took off to see if he could make the amulet into something workable at the lay lines we’d come in here from while Ann and I poked around the tower itself, discussing the wards amongst each other and hovering on the edge of going back to the center of the city. That wasn’t something any of us thought was a good idea, exactly, but we were running short on any, at that moment.

Made me damn glad Darcrow- at least, I think that’s his name; you could also conceivably go with tall, dark, mysterious, and sexy-what, I’m not allowed to admire?- came back when he did. With surprised victory, he told us the amulet worked better then he’d expected, but that by itself, it still wouldn’t be enough; we needed a conduit from amulet to stone, something to focus and amplify and aim the power.

It was the Crow who finally asked the question we'd been dancing around like a pair of idiots.

"Why doesn't someone just ask Su Rin?"

Well. That's us feeling like morons. Awkward silence descended amongst the ranks, and the dragon in question moved up to Ann, settled himself in. Waiting, patiently, quietly, and the impression of a solider waiting for orders was a tad unsettling. Especially when the solider in question was a flaming dragon.

"I've already made mine." the Crow said quietly, head ducked, a quiet, somber expression on his face. Ann looked between him and the dragon and then, in a voice I'd rarely ever heard from her, she spoke, quiet and commanding.

"Su Rin, as an heir of Na'bu'del-" And here she went and faltered, lost it like dropping a mask she'd been holding up to her face, and I saw it all fall apart before it did. Normally, here is where I might have stepped in, taken up the mantel and done this for her; but I couldn't. Not anymore.

To my surprise, the thought didn't make my heart twist in my chest the way I expected. My choice hadn't been easy, and I hadn't made it lightly, but I realized in that moment that I wouldn't undo it. Man in Black be damned; Lady be damned- it wasn't a mistake.

I'd not only eliminated a huge handicap, but I'd taken a step I needed to. If I meant what I'd decided nights ago, after Darcrow had spoken to me, then I had to be through about this. If I was going to be true to my own inner choice, then I had to eradicate everything I had been. For real, this time.

On my own, not because some people got together and decided to do it for me by- apparently flimsily- wiping out who I'd been. Whether I'd been a part of it or not; I wasn't going to erase it, I was going to choose. And the girl who had been royalty wasn't me, any more then the girl who'd been a monster.

Which just begged the question- what are you turning into, then, Semie? Who the hell are you?

Hell of a question.

"Will you be the conduit for breaking the magic?" Ann went on, turning it into a meak little question, and Darcrow groaned and lowered his head to his palm. She whirled on him, bristling and defensive as a little cat, demanding to know what it was she'd done wrong even as Su Rin spoke, one, rumbling word.

"No."

You can't ask, Ann. I thought, grimacing. Even I grasp that. Come on, just pretend he's me and have a ball.








-discussion of events

-meyonne gives me his amulet

-dream

-finding the barbaians/ meyonne takes his amulet back

-to the glacier

-holy shit mother fucker what have we let loose on the world

-clash of the titans

-BATTLE

-resolution

-going to meet Jhudora

I’ve lost myself.

Well, okay, that’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it?

Let’s change it up and say I came real damn close, but thanks to a few people, I kinda gave myself a mental shake and I think we’re back up and runnin’, kids.

Let’s start us at th’ beginning, ‘cause I been not writing forever and a day. Couple months back, I think I made it known that we died. City of Harien, Igorath, crazy library in the middle, and me findin’ out just how close tied I was to King.

Well, I also wrote ‘bout king, his other self, makin’ a world changing appearance in my life. So we’re all on the same page there. But see, the more this shit started goin’ down, the more I started thinking.

I have the right to know about all of this.

It was pretty damn clear that even if I’d thrown my hands up and said, fuck it, I’m not going to make any more attempts to find out who I am or what I did, at all, ever, that it wouldn’t have mattered. Things and people from my past kept finding me, and I was damn sick and tired of being completely off balance when people walked up to me and said shit like ‘well hello, we meet again, blah blah fucking blah.’

About the tenth time that happened, I’d got to where I was done with it. If people were gonna pull that shit, I was gonna be right-footed about it.

So I set to poking’ my nose in all the dark corners of myself, careful as I could, pushin’ right to the edge of what was okay and what wasn’t. I wasn’t happy with anything I found there. Nothing made me proud. Nothing made me happy. But I needed to know, I deserved to know, and I was fucking sick and tired of letting other people decide that I didn’t get to know.

How the hell could I claim to be a new person if I had never made the choice? Maybe whoever I was in the past had, but I, Semie, myself- I had never chosen to be who I was. Being a person because you don’t have an option isn’t being a person.

It’s being made and manipulated, same as The Man In Black wanted to, same as Feng, just in a way people thought was right and good.

I really should have been more careful, and I shoulda known, in the end, that combined with what I was doin’ and what we were dealin’ with, that I was gonna get too close to the white-hot part of the fire in the middle and burn the ever living fuck out of myself.

Which is what happened.

We’d set off to find Conchetta. A lot happened before that, actually, so let me try to sum up the important bits. I’m leaving some stuff out- and a lot of detail- ‘cause it’s been months.

We had a lot of little runs before we got home; survived our misadventure in the Blasted Lands, got involved in a war, woke up a mist dragon, got involved in another war, died, came back, met some interesting people and got involved in another war, but we left while that one was getting going. We went back to count Edress’ home and offered our assistance there, and we discovered in an attack by werewolves why Semie should never, ever, press the red button in her own mind.

Ever.

We met with a Bladesinger, who was quietly brave and strong and I liked immediately. He stayed with us for a few weeks and then got himself taken or killed by some kind of monster that had been attacking magic-users in a city we had come to stop in. We had no ability to even try and help him. We don’t even know that he’s alive.

Valor woke up to the fact that it’s me he wants, and the crystal is King. Well, not it’s not. It’s another version of king, a past king, sort of like Meyonne, in a sense. He is the crystal. That led to a lot of…turmoil, I guess…for me, because I still felt like I cared for the thing that had been king. He was still something that had a mind and a will of his own, and I didn’t take kindly to Valor attempting to use me to manipulate him into doing what he-Valor- wanted. Damn and hell, did I not take kindly to it.

The situation went a bit like this-it started with king-past king, not real king- landing’ on our ship mid-flight.

I knew it was a bad idea. Or rather, I should have known; but forgive me for underestimatin’ Valor’s stupidity. I had my doubts about lettin’ king- this king, and yeah, that lowercase is on purpose, King is King and this king is, y’know, king- anywhere near the ship, but you try and keep a ferociously angry, feral psi-were bound mentally to you at bay when he don’t wanna be kept at bay. I’m pretty sure it ain’t a good idea on any level.

Besides. He had a dead body in his eyes, and I had a sinking feeling I might know who it could be, (he hatedhatedhated Damon, wanted Damon dead, and for a moment I was so sure and my heart was in my toes and I was going to be so sick) and either way, was time to pay the piper, y’know? Whoever was dead, was my fault he was dead, and I owed him standin’ there and lookin’ at him and facin’ up to what I’d done.

“Semie?” Ann’s voice, wary, watchful, cautious.

“Tell them he’s not attacking.” My voice was barely audible to my own ears, over the sharp voices of the crew around me. But Ann’s voice raised above the din and the ship slowed, and then, bam, he was there. He was there, and huge, and savage. And the fear was unexpected.

This king scared me, and I know he…shouldn’t have done. But he did. And when he was clutching the dead body of a werehunter-

Just a random werehunter. Oh, Semie, you selfish fucking cunt, you are not allowed to feel…the man is dead. There is a dead man here. You are not allowed to be glad it isn’t The Were Hunter or Damon.

He snarled, the sound rumbling through my feet, my spine. “I know what will make you remember.” He said, King’s voice but not King’s voice.

“Feed with me.”

And he tipped the head back, revealing a pale, remarkably untouched throat. Stunningly so, in the mess that was the man’s face; pale and perfect. There was something wrong in that.

I recoiled, fighting to keep the grimace off my face.

“King. King, that isn’t going to make me remember.” Quietly, gently. His roar eclipsed it, a savage counterpoint to my voice, and there was a pause.

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

“No.” Before I could stop it, because there were a few hims, and then, with a resigned sigh, “who are you referring to, exactly?”

You know. Oh, how you know.

“King, no-”

“It’s because of him, isn’t it? He’s in your mind-”

I closed my eyes, desperately searching for words-

“King.”

Valor’s voice, behind us, imperious and demanding, and I felt a jolt of horror, of sudden realization.

How could I have ever thought- oh, fuck, of course he’s going to-

“How dare you address me?” I hoped like hell that this would end it; that king would brush him off as unimportant, self-important, as useless and pompous as he was.

“I can help you.” Slimey. Oiley. Valor sounded- sounded so much like The Man In Black, for one instant, that it made my heart stop. He sounded foul, vile, horrible.

“Valor, shut up.”

“You want Semie to remember, do you not?”

Oh no. No. We are not doing this. You are not going to be another person to use me, and you are not going to use him. To manipulate and trick and hurt him, you lying- you fucking-

“Valor, shut up!”

“I can make her remember.”

Lier. Like I’d let you anywhere near me anyway, you weasel. Cowardly, lying, manipulative, weak-willed weasel.

He carried on about how he had been gifted powers by higher beings, how they were the best way to help me remember, what better way to make me remember-

The roar of hate shook the ship. The man, who he’d been abusing in his frustration with me, was hoisted into the air and ripped in half.

Like wet parchment- like a toy being ruined by a child in the midst of a tantrum. A very big, very angry, very dangerous, very frightening child. Blood sprayed; Ann, from behind me, made a sound of pain, leveling her bow. king was lunging away, whirling on me.

“I relive you of your bond!”

Isn’t that a good thing? Isn’t that- shouldn’t that be a good thing? He’s not my King. He’s not- but I can’t-

“Stop him. Now!” Ann was hissing in my ear. He was breaking the ship’s railing, and I knew she was worried he was going to do real damage to the vessel. It was, honestly, the last thing on my mind.

If it’s not with me, then he’s a live wire- more so then normal. Right? And anyway, I can’t just- I can’t just-

King! I called, without moving my lips, then I was across the deck and grabbing his arm. He didn’t throw me off, he didn’t snarl; he immediately got down on one knee, yielding to my touch, leveling himself with me.

And in that moment, I knew that I couldn’t…discard him. He wasn’t My King, my flesh-and-blood King that I had once called- still called?- friend. He was a vicious creature, blood-thirsty and terrible and cruel, but there was somewhere in there some part of him that cared, that cared about me, and his motivations for it didn’t matter. I couldn’t turn my back on that.

I put my hand on his face, turned him to look at me. He went, surprisingly, let me guide his head around and I suddenly wasn’t even a little bit afraid of him. I’d been stupid ever to be. Those around me, maybe, but I doubt me.

I don’t think hurting me was the first thing on his mind.

*Whatever I said here.*

I knew I’d made a mistake the second Riddel slid past my lips. It was just instinctive, to say his full name, a flinch reflex. That doesn’t help what happened next. He stood, all easily eight feet of him, pure power rolling off him in waves, threatening and beautiful and terrible, and I thought, oh, help me, oh help me, he’s magnificent, he’s stunning.

He was mine. I was like that. We were like that. Together. That’s disgusting.

That’s amazing.

What was I, that he wanted me as his own?

What was I?

“Riddell.” The roar shook our ship, made me swear under my breath and clamp my hand to my mouth.

*Whatever the conversation was here.*

And then he was gone, over the side of the ship; pausing only for a moment to meet my eyes, steady, constant.

And I felt my heart break. Because I knew, watching him, that this wasn’t a part of me anymore. That whatever we were, we couldn’t be it now, not without some serious consequences.

But I still…

I still…

“The bond will be released when your husband is dead!”

And he was gone.

There had been a long pause after that, one in which Valor riped me a new one and threw a fucking tantrum because I’d tried to stop him. Meyonne went down with him, and when he came back up, to my surprise, it was my side, not Ann’s, that he drifted to.

“Maybe,” He said, soft and slow, after a long pause, “you should go speak to Valor.”

“He’s not interested in anything I have to say.” I spat back, bitterly. I didn’t want to hear it, not from Mr. Can Do No Wrong himself, not from Mr. Fucking Perfect. I wasn’t in the mood.

“That’s because you don’t open your damn mouth.”

My jaw dropped, and I spun, staring in shock. Tone perfectly calm and flat, as if discussing calmly our next stop, his face unruffled and blank.

“…According to someone, I open my damn mouth too often.” I drawled, eyebrows up. Well, you have my attention, Meyonne.

“And you always say the wrong thing.” With a hint of amusement.

Well excuse me, Your Highness. We can’t all go along like a cat, never putting a fucking foot wrong. We can’t all be like Darling Ann, She Who Can Do No Wrong even when she fucking does.

“’Xactly.” Was all I muttered. I didn’t blow up at him. We had enough tension on the ship as it was, and I knew if I said one word, Ann would be to us in a moment, and I’d have at least two of ‘em on my one.

Who fucking needs ‘em, anyway?

And that is where it started, ladies and gents. That’s where the little crack opened wider, made me vulnerable to what happened next. That’s where I started to drift. I knew better then that. I did. Even then, there was a little voice whispering you do, you want them.


“You’ve been trained in the art of diplomacy,” He was going on, apparently not noticing the look on my face. Or he’s thinking’, it’s just another Semie sulk, it ain’t important.

I felt my annoyance rachet up a notch or two.

“Kinda.” I looked at him, forced my usual cocky, crooked smirk.

“Then perhaps you should go resolve the situation.” He stopped, suddenly, and his face…changed. The superior, arrogantly calm look I hated vanished, and he gave me That Look, the one that always makes it so damn hard to keep hating him.

It’s a little sad, that look, old-aching sad, like a wound that’s healed over a long time ago but left pain behind. It’s intense, too, looking at me like he wants to see somethin’ that ain’t there. Like he wants to see whatever it is he sees in Ann that makes him see her as someone to stick by. It’s soft, though, not hard-intense but soft, lookin’ right down to the core of me and back again in a way that always makes me want to cry without knowing why. And it’s not as steady as his usual stare. He looks right into my eyes with it, sure, but it’s like he ain’t seein’ me, and he couldn’t if he wanted to.

When he looks at me like that, I don’t hate him. When he looks at me like that, I think, you and I, Meyonne, we’re more alike then we wanna be, hu? ‘Cept you got this, and I don’t. You can handle this, and I can’t.

And then I usually hate him again, because that pisses me off, that he does this so well. That he’s so okay, and I’m so not.

and yeah, cause ain’t no one gonna see this maybe it ain’t him I hate meebe it’s sometimes just a little a lot me.

Anyway, he gave me that look, and leaned close, the way he does that makes me wanna move back and regain some personal space.

“Because who knows if we have a soul?” He whispered. And he sounded…

He sounded….


What the fuck had Valor said to him, that stupid fucker? If he had fucked Meyonne up again, after all our hard work, I knew for a fact I was gonna murder him.

One deep breath. Two.

We do have a soul. So do you, Meyonne, and so help me if he told you anything otherwise…it doesn’t matter, anyway.

You’re real, damnit. You’re real to the people that matter. How many times we gotta say it?

But then, maybe it wasn’t as bad as all that. Meyonne hadn’t seemed hurt when he’d said it; he had seemed, in fact, kinda strong. Bitter-sweet, maybe, but…not hurt.

One deep breath. Two.

Daggers off. Noman took them.

Sword off. He took that, too.

“Do not loose those.”

Eyeroll shared with Ann. Ignore them.

And go below decks.

I will ignore all homicidal urges as I have no weapons. I will ignore all homicidal urges as I have no weapons. I will ignore all homicidal urges as I have no weapons…

I’ll go ahead and give you our conversation, for the hell of it.

I tapped, lightly, on the wall, with a knuckle, a light pattern.

“Yes?” His tone was sharp.

“Meyonne said the kids should have a talk.” I replied, on a resigned, careful sigh.

“That might…be wise.” Carefully. Almost cautious. Good. He should be.

“Alright…“ Swallow your pride, Semie. “So- let’s talk.”

“Shall I start?”

“By all means.” Even I herd the way my voice darkened.

“As much as much of this is probably going to be very familiar, I think it’s best that we start at the beginning.” He sounded like a teacher. He sounded- clinical, removed, aloof. I hated him for it.

“Alright.” Because I didn’t trust myself to say anything else, and I was supposed to be trying, dammit.

“Very good.” Don’t praise me, you brat, I’m not a dog. Not your dog, anyway. And so help me, if we’re going to keep usin’ that analogy you might wanna remember I bite.

He then proceeded to launch into everything I already knew about him; his backstory, his devotion to his family.

“I didn’t actually tell you the reason why I want that crystal,” He said, and he was meeting my eyes steadily and although his tone was still pompous and condescending, well, that was just Valor, wasn’t it? He didn’t seem to know another way to talk to people, and frankly, I was diplomatic enough to know that sometimes you have to ignore the tone and just focuse on the words.

“I thought you were informed- a mistake on my part.”

Oh, you can admit those, can you? Very good, Valor, if I had a treat I’d give it to you.

He informed me that his family’s safety road on that crystal, on the shoulders of king, and that apparently his opinion of his Grandfather bordered on obsessive adoration. The way he spoke of the man made me think of a child talking about a hero, and in a way, I think that’s what Valor was, in that moment. A child, discussing someone who had always been his hero- and he couldn’t or didn’t want to see that man as anything else, as an adult. In part, it was stupid and spoiled and closed minded and foolish.

In another way, I completely understood.

Then he had to go and open his mouth again, just when I was starting to soften towards him. Rather then shutting the fuck up and letting me digest how important this was to him- rather then focus on what the reasons were that I should see his point of view- he instead went on a fucking tangent about how he had done so much for us, and helped us, and that we hadn’t given him a single thing in return when he’d done everything out of the goodness of his heart.

I think this is the point where I shut down.

I mean, I can’t say I went into things with an open mind. And I can’t say there was really much of anything he could have said to make me sorry for my actions on the ship. But I had started to understand his world view a touch. I stopped even trying at this point.

And then he went and sealed it.

“There is literally nothing- nothing- you can say that would convince me otherwise.” He finished, nose in the air. There were few saving graces here, but I’m a big enough person to list the two.

I gave him points for his balls and his strength in stickin’ to what he thought was right. There’s somethin’ to be said about that degree of loyalty- that it’s stupid or impressive is up to you, but I can’t lie and say there is ain’t a whole lot I wouldn’t do for Talron.

Now, I wouldn’t do it just ‘cause he looked at me an’ asked. Not unless he had a damn good excuse for it. But still, that loyalty and the intense devotion to what he thought was important- yeah, can’t hold that against ‘im, even if I want to. An’ I do, trust me.

And the other was the way he looked at me. No matter what his voice implied, he met my eyes, steady and level. His gaze was even and calm, and he didn’t flinch or blink or back down, not even when my reply was hissed.

“Yes, but a ‘talk’ implies two people conversing.”

“Yes, it does.” At least he sounded a little flustered. If he expected me to just turn around and walk out, then he knew me even less well then I imagined he did.

“Good. My turn, then?” I asked, over his spluttering- he managed a snide- “By all means.” that had my hackles up all over again.

And I began. My voice started calm and even as I explained that I had no memory of who I was, where I was from, how old I was or even if I had been born. But this king, for all his faults-both Kings- had been so irreversibly a part of me from the moment I had laid eyes on them despite that. How Valor had manipulated and twisted that part of myself, had tried to use and force himself on it, and how I would never stand for that, because king was mine.

I think he missed a big part of th’ point, and honestly, I don’t think I coulda put it in a way he got, anyhow. That by doin’ what he did, it felt like he was trying to use me, control me. That because I felt so…so close to king, and King- well, fuck. This entire situation- can you blame me for bein’ caught on the raw?

I was bein’ judged from every side, watched and weighed and measured- I had at least two sections of people callin’ me by some fancy title, one of which seemed to think the sun and moon rose and set on me, th’ other that I was some bloodthirsty huntress. And the whole time, I felt like I was fightin’ a battle with myself, a war right on close to the vest.

And that was just scrapin’ the surface. I’d exploded, and I wasn’t near done explodin’, I’d just fallen into a lull.

Besides. Everyone and their cousin thought it was alright to use me. Us. When he started hurlin’ my name around, using me to manipulate King like he actually could, even if he could- well. That wasn’t alright, not in my book, never would be ‘less I said so.

But, at the same time, like I said, I gave him breathin’ room for fighting for what he believed in. Didn’t mean I had to like him, pompous ass he was, or that I had to like his methods, but he was fighting for what he believed, and there’s only so much of that you can hold against a person.

His not thinkin’ king was real, though- that didn’t set right with me, either. And I made it damn clear, loud and firm, that that wasn’t okay and never would be.

Anyway, after that, we found Myn. Phoenix, whatever you wanna call ’er. We finally found ’er, and she’d pretty much turned herself into a little mini-general with the goal of capturing Feng and brining him back to the Citadel.

Which was all well and good, ‘cept for we’d already gotten ourselves involved with a group of preists who didn’t want that, and on top of them, Delcova, who also had his own plans for the girl Amarissa who Feng still had with him.

And on top of all them, Damien showed up wanting Feng dead. That was a hell and itself, that fiasco. Found out a lot about myself from Damien, those days. I'll get into that in a bit.

We’d found him in a little city just a few miles from where Myn’s camp was- but not in the city. This place had a line where a ghost-spirit world litterally overlapped the real one, like waves of an ocean eating away at the sand on a beach. It crept and crawled it’s way into reality, and if you took just one step in the wrong direction, you went in over your head. We went there hopin’ to lure king- the not King, the not real one- in for Valor to try and capture and get his crystal from.

*Any blogs I have with us and Myn here.*


His roar shook the earth, and he was charging. I shifted around, ready to move- I knew, I already knew what I wanted, needed, was going to do -

-and a second, answering roar rattled my bones.

Identical.

I froze, and it was a damn good thing, because King, My King, The real flesh and blood, King, stood before me. He slammed into king with a force that would have snapped my neck, and the two locked together, in silent, silent, battle. Defending Damien. Defending me.

How can these two creatures be the same?

And then Valor was diving forward. He reached out and snagged the crystal from king’s chest, and his momentum kept him going. With a mighty heave, the crystal sprang free, and King, snarling, crushed the smokey remains of himself.

And just like that, it was over.

I felt like I was in a bog. Mentally, that is. I couldn’t no more move or speak then I coulda if someone’s been holdin’ me.

And before I could do anything, Ann was screaming Damien’s name and he was attacking King. I heard his name leave my own lips, too late. But it woke me up, f’r damn sure, and I was sprinting, putting myself between them with arms spread wide in the universal knock it the fuck off, boneheads! motion.

If it was clear who I was protectin’, well, ain’t my fault Damien went on the offensive.

…mostly.

“Move.” I’ve never heard his voice like that; if I was even a little threatened by him, I’d have squeaked and ducked out of the way in a heartbeat. It was as close to a growl as I had ever heard from him, through teeth gritted so hard they might crack.

“No.” I said back, calm and quiet. “He just saved your life.” And now I couldn’t keep the anger out of my voice, a tight hiss of my own.

“He’s the one that started all of this-”

“No, he’s not! He just saved you. You might show a little gratitude. And if you’re going to be angry-be angry at the right person.” I finished, at last lowering my arms. I figured, I was still standin’ there, Damon wouldn’t be throwin’ mental take-downs at King.

Still, whatever I expected, it sure as fuck wasn’t for him to step in, take my face in his hands-

-and kiss me.

“Mmpfh!” My arms flailed, helplessly, utterly unsure, shocked, completely at a loss. I mean, I don’t remember kissing before, and even if I’d wanted it, I didn’t know where to put my hands, for fuck’s sake, and I didn’t want it so none of the places that I’m sure my hands woulda’ been supposed to go would really be appropriate, right there.

I don’t know if he thought maybe I’d somehow ‘member him, through his kissing me. Like something from a faerie tale- kiss the princess, she wakes up, and they live happily ever after. ‘Cept this ain’t a faerie tale and there ain’t a happily ever after, not here.

At last I found purchase on his shoulders, and I pushed away, gentle, firm. His face, when I did it, was devastated. I knew what I had to do, what needed to be said.

I’d not chosen him. Looking at him looking at me, touching my lips where his hand been only a moment before, dry and soft and warm, I realized something.

I’d not chosen him. And the…longing, that had been there…the pain…the sadness…the confusion…was gone. Just- gone. I didn’t feel the desire to love him, the way I had before. I didn’t feel the…the draw to him, I’d felt in the citadel.

I’d let him go. I’d actually, really, truly let him go. It was a weight on my shoulders and off them at the same time. I hadn’t stopped caring about him, as a person- he seemed good. Honestly good. Even if it was an act, that’s how it seemed; like he had a big, true heart, and he was, at his core, someone who deserved life and happiness.

But I’d taken a massive step. I’d…I’d given that necklace to Ann, and it seemed like, somehow, that had been the catalyst. I’d backed away from him and all he might have once meant to me. Because he’d never meant anything to me. Not in my memory. He was, essentially, a stranger. A stranger I wanted to be a friend, a companion, someone I liked and cared about and maybe, once, in another life…had loved. I could admit that, that once, I had loved him, cared for him, married him.

Once, I had been his wife.

A lifetime ago.

And he needed…he needed to let go, too. He had to let me go. Enough was enough, dammit. He was obsessive. I wasn’t his any more; if I ever had been.

I wasn’t his, and I’d let him go, and it was time he knew it. Knew it in it’s entirety. I knew what I was about to do would crush him; but the time for softness and tenderness was past. A girl’s life was on the line- a very important little girl. There was so much, so much bigger then me, and him, and what had or had not happened, and a few hurt feelings and broken hearts.

I knew what I needed to say, and I knew it wouldn’t necessarily go over well.

*Conversation here?*


As he slipped backwards, King folded over me. I was used to his hand on my shoulder- it had been there through this entire conversation- or his touch, but this…this was new. Like cradling something precious. I felt…safe, in this embrace. Oddly enough, I felt like I was giving him comfort, too; like he wasn’t just doing it to show possessiveness.

The worst of it is, now, I wish I’d pushed him away, too. Because as much as I hate the Other Me, she had a point recently.

I’ll have to choose again. Talron or King. I can’t have them both; and it breaks my heart, it kills me, but I know which one I’ll choose. I know who I will always choose, above everyone and everything else. I ain’t done a very good job of showing it, recently. I’ve been a pretty shitty friend, in fact, a pretty shitty example of someone who’s ‘sposed to love someone else.

I’ve done a pretty shitty job as a person in whole, but that don’t change the truth of it.

I will always choose him.

And I almost forgot that. Damn me and my foolish, stupid arrogance, I almost forgot that.

How could I ever forget that?

That’s what woke me up, out of everything that happened next. No matter what Meyonne said, or Ann, or nobody else, that is what made me snap out of the haze I had been in and wake up to what was happening to me.

But I’m getting’ ahead of myself.

Anyway, fact of the matter is eventually King left and so did we. We went to regroup with Min but got side-carded by the Queen's Men, not for the first time. We talked with them about everything that was goin' down and the whys and hows and exchanged the itty-bitty amount of information we had with each other. They're a pretty amazing group, these guys; totally devoted to their cause and so good they practically blind you with it. I expect one or the other of 'em to start shining any minute.

Somethin' in me answers that, you know? Seeing them, something in me just feels like a little girl, starin' in awe up at the big bad warrior she wants to be just like when she grows up. Nah, now, I know that's bull and it's stupid on top of it, but that don't stop my heart from beatin' a little faster when I'm around them- don't stop me from feelin' just a little stronger, a little more invisible, a little bolder. Somethin' wakes up and stirrs and sort of blinks sleepily in the light, before it gets shoved right back down because I ain't no hero.

We told these people about a group of three that had been working for Feng, hunting us. They'd already attacked us once and we'd sent them packing; all but the little vampire who'd been with them, who had his own agenda. Turned out he knew about them, and he said they were on their way to the city.

Would we care for a game of hide and seek?

We agreed almost instantly. There's almost no one in this world I want dead, but my grudge against these four goes past all reason (as you'll find out in just a minute.) I hate them. I hate them and I want them out of the world. There is something about them that makes my hair stand on end, something that makes me feel foul.

I hate them, and that's not somethin' I can say about a lot of people.

So we staked 'em out and stalked our prey. Ann crept off after a while of waiting and found 'em further down on the trail She said one of them wasn't right- something was wrong with him. Normally, this might have either worried me or made me pause, for a second. Now, though, all I saw was a weakness. An advantage.

That might've changed, if things had been different.

Ann belived that Farn was hiding something. She belived that he was upset that we'd removed his cursed; that he missed the power it had given him, even for so short a time.

Now, here's the thing. There is a massive surge with having that much power- it's downright thrilling, to feel that dangerouse, that unstoppable. To know that if someone pissed you off enough, you'd become this massive, hulking beast and could just- twitch a wrist and they'd be gone.

I don't miss it. I'd become something like a Were, or even a Were again if I thought I would be in control of myself, of the change. Sure, why not, wouldn't hurt. But it's not something I activly look for or want.

Ann, on the other hand, often mentions that she misses it. That she'd take that power back if only she could, if she ever got the chance. And she told me, quietly, that she felt Farn was the same way.

A mildly disturbing prospect on both counts.

We decided just keeping an eye on him for now was the best- and really, wasn't it the only?- thing we could do. The rest of the day passed uneventfully, with us milling about the ship. I spent most of my time on deck, again, alternating between walking with Ann and Meyone to bothering Alaric to chasing an enthusiastic Conchetta to keeping an eye on Farn. I bounced all over that ship, and still managed to get bored after a couple hours.

As if sensing it, another ship chose that moment to bring itself to our attention. We all stood, watching the ship approch, waiting for a signal, waiting for a fight. So far it had made any agressive actions, but it was coming closer, and coming at us.

Ann's ship, Ann's desicion. I let my hands go to my weapons and waited. We all stood in a circle, Ann at my far right with Meyonne, as always, acting as her huge shadow. Our hirelings were slightly further back uncertian of the course of action to take. They didn't know us very well, at this point, and weren't quiet comfortable putting themselves right in with us, I think. Alaric was beside me, a comfortingly calm and steady pressance. Very little seems to frighten him- although, I can't say that surprises me. We watched the ship approch slowly, and then Meyone asked Ann what we should do.

I jerked my eyes from the ship and to my elvin freind, watching her quietly as she stood in silence. She was chewing her lower lip and if she felt my eyes on her didn't aknowledge me in any way.

"Ann." My voice was low and gentle, a subtle prod. You're in command here, Ann, make the desicion and stop being wishy-washy about the damn thing.

Alaric's rasping voice came from my left, something about being able to burn a vessel. I really hoped he meant that one, not us. I sent an elbow into his ribs sharply, knowing Ann hadn't appreciated the words, and whispered over to Ann again. She needed to do something, damn it, now.

She finally snapped her eyes down to us again, mostly on Alaric, and barked that we would intercept the ship, translated to us by Farn. A silent, heavy breath was pulled in by everyone- you could feel it- and the tension in the air doubled.

At least until the ship grew near, and it's grand beauty was obviouse to all on deck. Magnificent, elegent beauty, enough to make our poor ship look like one of our fishing vessels by comparison.....and flying Talron's colors proudly.

My heart stopped, then caught again and began to race. I looked over at Alaric, eyebrows in my hairline. He didn't look even mildly surprised.....in fact, he looked like a little boy reciving a gift. I knew he was Talron's old friend.....but just how old?

What the hell was going on?

A few men came aboard our ship, and Alaric stepped forward to greet them; two carried a chest, one a bottle of some kind of wine. Ann stepped back, but I stayed put, refusing to move. Nothing and noone with Talron's colors frightens me or intimidates me.

Except, sometimes, the man himself.

One of the men adressed me by name, to my surprise. I nodded to him, and recived a bow. My eyebrows went even further up my forehead, if it was possible. In fact, I don't think I had eyebrows anymore, just right then. They came back later, of course. The eyebrows, that is.

The man said it was a pleasure to finally met me, and greeted Ann formally. Ann asked how they'd found us, and the man glanced at Alaric with this odd, smirkey little smile. He said it was easy to find someone you knew well.

Well, then. Is everyone in Talron's command an arrogent, secretive plotter?

I lifted my eyes to Ann, who was a walking stormcloud, her murderouse gaze locked on Alaric. I snickered softly, and turned my eyes on Alaric. He was grinning stupidly, that I know something you don't know kind of grin, and I wanted to slap it off his face. I was torn between angry and amused, and when I looked back at Ann, she promised to kill him.

I told her I'd help.

It worked; the anger lifted from her eyes and she was grinning at me. I smirked back, letting out my breath slowly. This was Talron-related, this was okay, safe, we could relax. For now.

Alaric and the men slipped off below decks to discuss what they had to. Ann and Meyone took themselves off to a corner, talking softly, and I left them too it; then needed.....'privacy'....every one in a while, as obliviouse as they both were- still-are. Besides, I had problems of my own running through my head; if Talron's men had come, did that mean Talron himself had returned? Was he going to leave? Had the empress.....was he.....

Stop that. You have bigger worries then that right now.

I took a deep breath and leaned over the railing, closing my eyes and trying not to let myself get any hopes up or fears going. I tried to produce a mental zone of 'don't fucking mess with me right now', and it seemed to work; not even Conchetta came near me. I almost felt bad about that one.

About a half hour later, then men and Alaric returned. I straightened up slowly and approched, my resolve in my choice firm. From the other side, Ann and Meyonne came, too, and her eyes told me she knew what I was going to ask. I didn't much care if it pissed her off. If there was even a chance, even a hair's breath of a chance that he was back, I wanted to know about it. This was fucking impossible, running all over the world when all I wanted was to root my feet into the earth outside Befrengaurd and not move until I was certian-sure that Talron was returned, alive, mentally and physically okay, and- and-

as mine as he'd ever been.

I 'd come dispite that longing for a number of reasons; one, the primary driving factor, was that Myn was my fault. I'd gotten her into a bad situation, and if this is what it took to get her out again, I wasn't not going to be involved. Another was who Alyssa was.....who's daughter she was. Toby had helped us, and now he needed our help.

Another was Ann herself. She followed me around all over the map when I was sniffing around like a bloodhound for hints of my past. After she'd come to the South with me, I couldn't very well refuse her anything. I owed her, and massivly.

And the final reason was simple. This had to be done. A long time ago someone decided we weren't allowed to live a quiet, normal life of peace and blissful ignorance. Ann, Meyonne, Alaric and I, all of our companions, were set right in the middle of things, and it was our job to make as much right as we could. It wasn't in any of our nature to just let things go. We might want to go home, we might not want to do what we did, but we did it.

I bowed to the Captian of the other ship, and asked politly if I may have a word. He said yes without a pause, and I found myself turning beat red as I asked if there was any word or news from or on Talron.

His turn to lift an eyebrow.

Apperantly, the last they heard was what we knew; he was in the Citadel. No new information on him- no word from him, to them or me.

I asked, then, throughly confused and a little sucpisiouse, who sent them to find Alaric.

And found that it had been Alaric.

I felt the snarl curl up a corner of my lip, heard the growl start from somewhere in the bottom of my chest. I can't turn anymore, but I found that even after being were for just a short time, I'd retained growling when angry. Maybe I did it before, even. I certianly don't know. All I know is that if you're wise, you'll back the fuck up when I did it, because I'm either going to hit or yell.

Alaric doesn't know me well enough to know it, and simply gave a bashful half-shrug when asked why he'd not told us.

Oh yeah, I was growling.

The captian let me know that if anything did happen, he'd let me know- though I wasn't sure how that would come to pass- and then they left.

Annnnd five , four three, two, one-

Ann's voice split the air like a whipcrack, sharp with anger and disapproval. She didn't yell, didn't even raise her voice, but even I was flinching under her hard words and ice cold tone. Ann has a way of speaking that makes you feel like you're about ten years old again, being scolded by an adult.

Alaric, though, remained unappologetic and sullen through the entire speech, and when it was over, shrugged, smirked, gave me a nudge in the ribs and headed below deck. I watched him go with a lopsided smirk.

I think.....I could get into way too much trouble with him.

I took a deep, steadying breath and went back to the railing, this time not trying to exude waves of anger. Just trying to enjoy the ride, and enjoy myself. Still, I couldn't help but watch the speck that flew Talron's colors, watch it until it was no longer visible and then imagine I could still see it.

Just for a second, I'd felt home again. There had been something comfortable and familer in a land that was anything but. I closed my eyes and put my head in my hands.

Stop it. You're being a shit-stupid little girl. Grow up. Get on track, Semie, this isn't a game.

The rest of the evening passed much in this fashion; I tried to distract myself from bleak thoughts and entertained myself bothering my friends until Molholander finally appered in veiw. Yet another airship came up on us about the same time, but apperantly it was one of the city's, and okay.

They said, bluntly, that they were going to escort us in. Instantly I saw the tension start to knot Ann up again; she doesn't like anyone messing with this ship. She's as protective of it as a mother with a baby. Everyone else seemed relaxed and at ease, though, so I took their cue and stayed that way myself, lounging on the railing as we glided in. These people seemed to know us and know what they were doing, and frankly, if this was a bad situation, we were outnumbered and outgunned anyway. Nothing to do but watch and wait.

Ann might be surprised to hear me say that- me, of all people- but in truth I'm actually a pretty big fan of it. And in a situation like this, even more so. You start acting out, and then things really do go all to shit. But if you just relax and stay calm, go with the flow of things until you see the big picture, you can usually end a situation more.....happily.

So I perched on the railing and hoped I didn't fall off backwards, and watched the men and everyone else. Ann was talking to a human officer, but I couldn't hear what over the wind in my ears. We moved slowly compared to our normal speed- at our normal speed, I'd never be sitting where I was now- but it was still fast enough to toss my short hair and drown out what she said. She turned and looked at me. I gave her a lop-sided grin and flashed a reassuring signal to her. Relax. It's alright, I wanted to say. not everyone is out to get you.

Molholander was one of the most lovley cities I've ever seen. Nothing can compare to what Nabudel must have looked like in it's prime- even to what it was as a ruin- but it was a close second. Ann was clearly caught by it, and I had to admit it was an almost graceful looking city.

We docked, and the ship was hooked into place- odd thing to do, from the look on Ann's face- and we were asked to follow one of the men into the city. Like we had a choice. Still, I shrugged and hopped down, dusting off my pants and going willingly enough to the gangplank. I turned and grinned at Ann, making a 'come on' wave and heading down it ahead of the others. Oh, don't get me wrong; I was nervouse, too. Of course I was. But if they were going to hurt us I thought, they probably would have already. I saw no one with cuffs or weapons at the ready, and no one seemed.....agressive or displeased in anyway. Ann fell in step beside me, and I resisted the urdge to grab her hand. She looked purely freaked the fuck out, she did.

Such a nervouse little elf.

They brought us into a building that was teaming with people, but not human people. Elves and gnomes, more then anything else. I tipped my head as the guard gave us directions, then waited for Ann to move. This was her deal. Meyone, Alaric, Thorin, and I were at her back. Even our little hirlings were there, should shit begin to fall down on our heads. Slowly, deliberatly, we started forward again, Ann's breathing slow and deep, a sign she was controlling herself. I kept my body language relaxed and calm, trying to reassure her without words. It didn't seem to be working.

Finally, we got to the proper door, and Ann pressed a palm to it. I met her eyes, and nodded, and then she swung it open.

To reveal and very familer sight. A gnome I'd only met once, who's life we'd saved when I was still new to this group. His name was- is- Master Ron Dangledongledot.

Yeeeeah, you heard that right. Try saying it without sounding like a fool.

I thought Ann was going to collapse, and heard my own delighted laugh break the suddan silence. We greeted each other warmly, all of us, and found that apperantly he'd been here on business. His cousin was captain of the little gnome ship we'd seen before, which explained.....a lot.

He bid us to eat and so we did; though it took Ann longer then any of us to relax and enjoy the meal. Even then, she sat on the very end and seemed disgusted to watch us eat; she's always been a bird about eating, ever since I met her. I know my manners aren't that bad, but I feel downright rude compared to her.

We were told we'd be given proper rooms for as long as we were here, and had full use of the bathhouse.

I choked. Luckily, no one seemed to notice, but I had to take a hasty drink before I started coughing and embaressed myself. Bathhouse which implied naked people of both sexes together in one room naked.

Did I say that part already?

I could already feel the heat in my cheeks, turning my ears pink. Thankful for a dark complexion and black hair, I ducked my head and waiting for the bad moment to pass. By the time it had, Ron was telling us that we would have someone to show us around shortly, and that we should enjoy our dinner and relax. We were welcome here, and we could stay as long as needed. I smiled, thanking him with everyone else. It's nice to be welcomed, for once.

The place was as beautiful as it'd seemed, and startling warm. I don't mean the weather- I mean, we were greeted in friendly manners and people of a few differant races intermingled with no obviouse tension between any of them.

We each got our own room, lush, lovely spreads that made me want to go no where else for my entire stay here. A big bed, he size someone like me could drown in, thick carpet for toe-burry-ing, beautiful colors, the smell of the wood from the furniture overlaying everything, and an assortment of other furniture and nick-nacks. There were even potted plants, which I assumed Ann was happy for. My favorite part were the balconies, all connected and all just about one entire wall.

I'm sorry, can we steal all this?

Joking. I'm joking.

We were shown to the bathhouse, next. It was as beautiful as the rest of the place, with elegent carvings on the walls and statues and such everywhere. The entire bathing area was a giant 'flower', and you could, um- pick a petal. Sevearl people already had.

There were benches and places for clothing and towels. It was huge, open, and I could hear the pleasent sounds of laughter and talking echoing around. It was a lovely place, and if it hadn't been full of naked people I would have been very happy there.

Ann pointed out the huge statues on the walls, life-sized representations of each angel of each land. There were even little plaques underneath that told about each.

One looked very, very much like Toby. Ilasureta.

The Weres had been mentioning her. I shot Ann a concerned look, and got a shrug in reply. She didn't know the anwser to this situation any more then I did, it seemed.

And besides, there were more pressing matters right now.

Like Annwasgettingnaked.

I felt the heat rush to my face again, and not even my dark skin could hide it this time. Her items first, then gloves, then cloak, then her sh-her shirt.

I could not form a complete sentance if I'd tried. She'd just droped her shirt in front of me, showing me all of her, as if it was no big deal. I'd seen Ann naked before- she'd seen me naked, too- but all the same.

Her shoes and pants were next, and I was aware that I was making little fish-out-of-water noises. She gave me a cat-smile and beckoned me in, taking great pleasure in my mortification.

It's rare it's her that gets to be on that end of the pair of us. Meyonne and the others were loosing their clothing, too, completly with any lack of self-confidence. I put my face in my hands and headed inside, not daring to look up, even as I heard Ann slide into one of the petals. Peeking through my fingers, I made my way over to that petal. I removed my shoes and put them under the bench were Ann's belongings had been layed, dipping my feet in next to her and finally, slowly, lowering my hands.

Normally, I would have had a great deal of fun seeing Meyone in the water with Ann. He was in the same petal and looked very content with himself at that moment. I could hear Conchetta and Noman, and to my left Thorin was in the water, women around him like cats to cream. I can't say I blamed them much- he was a well toned, handsome man, and though I couldn't see much where I sat, if he looked like that below the waist, too-

-well. If it weren't for Talron, I might be over there myself.


Wave.

I screamed as a wave of water splashed over us suddanly, marking Alaric's entrance into the water. I groaned as it instantly turned brackish, forgetting my shame in amusment. He hadn't even bothered to rinse! My laughter rang out helplessly, and Ann sent me a tolerant, tired glance. She tried to convence me to climb in with them, that I would enjoy a nice, hot bath, that I needed to wash off the traveling dust, that it felt good, that it was nice.

I would, I did, I'm sure it did, and I'm sure it was. All of those things would still be true later, when the place was less full.

As they bathed, I chattered happily as if totally unflustered, and watched the comings and goings of the bathhouse. I was chatting a mile a minute, but saying nothing. It's a good way to distract someone from noticing something's wrong. Besides, brainless chatter feels good, now and again. No plans on what tatcical moves to make next, or how to stay alive another day. Instead, teasing Alaric for his smell and being teased for refusing to get naked.

No way. No fucking way are you going to get me naked in front of these people.

I was jerked from brainless talk when Ann announced she'd 'be right back'. I followed the path of her gaze, and my jaw set.

Beautiful, dark skinned Elf-ladies, in the petal just across the way. They were beautiful like Ann was beautiful, but in a totally differant way, too. Same perfect, flawless skin, and ears raised into elegent points that stuck out of their long hair. Eyes that were wise and knowing and gentle and so many differant colors.

Long legged and slender limbed, like Ann when she climbed over to join them. I watched her go. Straight, beautiful back, blonde hair cascading in a waterfall, darker with wet. Ears, smaller then theirs, poking up through the wet strands, perfectly curved rear leading down into long, strong legs. Beautiful. She was so beautiful. They were all so beautiful.

I rolled my eyes and forced a laugh, pretending that I was mocking her be right back, when in actuality I found myself trying very hard not to get up and run out.

Conchetta suddanly appered by my side, but in the water, resting her arms on the side and greeting me merrily. I forced my eyes away from the women I so longed to be like and turned back to the girl I was like. She wasn't jealouse of them, from what I saw. She didn't seem to care that she wasn't well-endowed or tall and slender or a goddess to look upon.

Of course, she also wasn't in love with a king.

We talked pleasently for a while, and then suddanly she gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth, her giggles almost hysterical. I turned-

-and yes, actually, Thorin was that nice below the waist, as well. I wished I'd gotten into the water after all, so I could sink below it in shame. My throat closed, my ears burned, and I clamped both hands frantically over my mouth.

Still, I could feel the laughter rush up out of my throat as a very naked, very unashamed Thorin went striding away from Ann, having obviously just spoken to her, and marched past us.

Three woman were carried in his arms.

All at the same damn time.

Their sultry laughter reached my ears, and I fell backwards, howling. Someone- probably Conchetta- hit me for it. But it wasn't hard, and it didn't hurt. I sat up to see our other companions in variouse states of amused embaressement, too; even Meyone.

Ann returned to us a moment later. I watched in pleased surprised as she splashed him swimming by, then hurried over to us, where she knew he couldn't get her back. I raised a brow, my heart lightening. Here we were, playing, laughing, joking, happy.

I guess, no matter how hard things get, we're all pretty okay if we have one another.

As soon as everything had calmed down- and I could speak again- the topic turned back to more seriouse matters. Everyone kind of....converged....on the petal. We decided plans would be made in the morning.....it wasn't safe and it was rather pointless to wander the streets at night. Time to go to our beautiful rooms and get some well earned rest for the night.

That said, Meyone promptly came out of the water- my hand went back over my eyes- and so did Ann. I rose- hand still over my eyes- and, through my fingers as before, made my way back to the door.

My embaressment was not personal in this case. I had no desire to see what I'd seen of Thorin's on anyone else tonight. Thanks. Thanks ever so much.

Ann was still trying to convence me to go ahead and clean up while we were here. I told her I'd do it on my own time, would you leave me alone, elf? Damn. I stared intently at the floor until everyone was dressed, and we straggled out of the bathhouse. Once out, I was in a considerably better mood, and talking happily to Ann as we got back to our rooms. There, though, her teasing and prodding stopped as we came to our respective doors, and she paused in the hallway. Meyone and I stopped, too, glancing at each other and back to her.

Funny, how she bonds us. I don't know what all else Meyonne and I have in commen, and I think if I'd been alone in Fera he never would have stayed with me. But one thing we both do care for, one thing that we do have in commen, is a very real concern for the elf in front of us.

I asked, tentivly, if Ann wanted to share a room. I mean, we always do, only recently have we not. Usually when we don't, something weird or bad happens. Sometimes even when we do, I'll admit, but it was a sense of familiarity all the same. But she turned me down after a long pause, and we agreed that the conecting balconies would have to be enough.

Once everyone had settled in for the night, I grabbed a change of cloths and headed back out. I went back to the bathhouse, which was now nearly empty but for a few people in the very far pettles of the room. I grabbed one in the farthest corner I could, and did what I needed to do. In the clear water, I could see all of me just as I could see all of Ann, earlier.

Short, unevenly cut hair, boring black. Dark skin streaked with freckles across my nose- they looked like dirt smudges. Horrible dirt smudges that would never ever wash off. Blue eyes that would have been pretty but they'd been real blue. Instead, they were muddy silver-blue, almost gray. Stubby-nailed fingers on calloused hands, a non-existant torsoe, breasts that were bigger only because the rest of me bore undesireable weight. I twisted to see, in morbid curiousity. Nope. No butt at all. Not like the deep, sensual curve of Ann's back, leading into her bottom.

Snarling, I hit the water lightly, mussing my reflection.

Ugly. Nothing special at all. What are you thinking? You, in love with a king? You, with a mouth like scum and a body of a child? You, rash, impulsive creature? You, little better then an urchin? Why should he love you? Why, when he has the attention of an Empress? When he could have someone as beautiful and wise as those elves today?

...."I fucking hate being naked!"

I think half the room looked at me. Not for the first time, I felt my ears heat and this time I did sink below the water, with only my eyes peeking out.

About ten minutes later I made my way back to my bedroom, muttering loudly in case anyone was still awake. I wanted them to think exactly what they thought; that I was just, for some odd reason, a prude.

I closed my door softly, locking it behind. I meant to fall into sleep, emotion tiring me out; I though I'd drop off instantly. Instead, though I kept being awakened through the night by the uneasy feeling of being watched. When I'd wake, to explore it, it'd be gone. Or if I still felt it, it would move, as if the person had wings and was fluttering away from my site. Half-way curiouse and half-way frightened, I would fall back into sleep. There was no malice from what I felt.....just the sensation of being watched. I'd sleep for a bit longer, then, abruptly, be awakened again because I swear someone was just there, close enough to reach out and-

-nothing. A gropping hand touching only the darkness of the room around me and perhaps the bookshelf near the bed. Once, I knocked one of my daggers off the bedside table.

That was the most eventful occurance of the night.

I was awakened earlier then I'd like- again- by Ann, the next morning. Apperantly I hadn't been the only one to feel like I was being watched all night. Ann'd had it happen, too. She told me no one else had reported symptoms.

Well, okay then, we should be used to this kind of thing by now.

I asked her which room first, and, rather predicatbly, she said her own. I didn't much care; I shrugged, and off we toddled. We found nothing out of place in her room at all, and were about to give up the search, when Ann called my name softly. I came over to her, and she pointed out the bone shards mixed into the soil of her plant. Alaric was with us, and he came over as well. It was deffinatly odd, to him, and he began to cast a spell after a couple of minutes. He announced there had without doubt been a ghost in the plant, but now it was gone. It'd run away from him. He said he'd banished it so it couldn't return, and instantly I flinched.

I pointed out that we'd spoken to spirits- or things like them, sort of, anyway- before, and what if this one had been trying to give us a message?

Alaric shrugged. What was done was done; the ghost was gone for the moment.

"Well, check out my plant. I had the same problem."

So we switched direction and went back to my room. Sure enough, same issues. But I instisted that Alaric leave it alone; at least for one night. To see what would happen. Ann, though, shoved her plant outside and had Alaric ward her room for twenty four hours. She was not, she said, going to deal with ghost problems she didn't have to.

Alaric and I went to get our proper cloths on, and soon everyone else was joining up with us again. We told our hirlings their jobs for the day- Noman to explore the underbelly of the city, Farn to take the opposit end and see about the nobility here. To our surprise, before we could assign Conchetta, Farn spoke up, mentioning that he'd like to take her with. She was a skilled people person, apperantly, and none of us had a problem letting Conchetta go, if she felt comfortable being alone with Farn.

Then, he added that he'd also like to take Meyone.

My jaw dragged the dust for a moment. Ann's face had gone faintly pale, and her arms folded in that familer, stubborn pose across her chest. Meyone, for his part, was watching Farn with a thoughtful, considering look, although every line in his body was stiff and uncomfortable.

Okay....those two can't be impartial. Guess this is my job.

"Why?"

Farn admited that he felt he needed a 'bodygaurd' of sorts, and we'd have Thoren with us. As Thoren is pretty much a force of nature by himself, we didn't really need extra muscle.

I looked at the pair again, sighing softly. Alaric had taken a physical step back, putting himself out of the argument, and from the way Farn was looking at me, it was obviouse this was my go. I shrugged, glancing helplessly over. Farn had a point; he needed someone to protect him, since he was basically kind of helpless.

I told Ann I didn't see why not, and waited for the protests. Those two had refused to be seperated for more then a few minutes at a time since Fera. The one time I'd forced Meyone to stay back, with me, he'd nearly killed me with his eyes alone, forget the weapon at his side.

Insta-bable. I fell silent and listened to Ann weakly try to defend her choice to keep Meyone, arguements that made no sense, and felt my lips twitching. Goodness, Ann, Thoren is just a man. A large man, but all the same. You're not his enemy. Besides, he'd never catch you even if you did piss him off.

Finally, it was Thoren himself who spoke up, quietly informing Ann that she had nothing to be afraid of from him.

Aww, nice. Good job, Thor-

"Unless you get in my way."

-eeeeannnnd never mind. Ugh. Ann looked like a frightened mouse under the stare of a hawk. It got worse when Meyone quietly agreed to go with Farn and Conchetta. Ann glanced over at me and I wagged my eyebrows at her with a smirk. Her frightened look turned into a glare, and I just grinned. One way to get Ann out of being scared is to piss her off. I'm good at that.

We wandered our sepeate ways- Farn, Meyone and Conchetta, Noman alone, and Alaric, Thoren, Ann and I. It didn't feel quiet right to send Noman off by himself, not when one of us from the larger group could have been spared. But that's what we did, and soon the group of four of us were moving towards the games area.

The people around us- still a mismash of those three races- had all kinds of pets as they walked past us; all kinds of wild animals for pets. Things like I'd not been close to except for Illoria's Demetrious, and he'd not even been a real panther. I edged a bit closer to the group, trying not to picture what sharp claws and teeth could do. Unfortunatly, I'd seen it in person. I'd been on the reciving end already of things with teeth and claws.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, praying that I could do what I'd done best, before the man who'd begin chipping away at my life and sanity had cursed me. Then I put on a confident face, grinned lopsidedly, and approched my first target.

I am no master of the shadows, like Ann is, able to slip away unheard and unseen, stealthy and graceful as a cat. But what you need to get here, is that talking to people is just as infinatly hard as hiding from them. Ann's gotten annoyed at me, before, for taking a long time to say what I need to say. But when you use words as half your weapon, each one needs to be considered and measured.

I am a completly differant person when I'm talking for information, or talking to save our lives. I have to be. Lately it's gotten harder, with the curse around my neck; I tend to say what I shouldn't to just the person it shouldn't be said to, to my lies come through as clear as the water in the bathhouse yesterday.

Today, though, I seemed to be doing just fine. We got pointed to a man who supposedly had the luck of the angels, a gambler in the center of the area surrounded by people. With a thank you and a bow, we headed that way, Ann quietly with head down, Alaric just at my flank, and Thoren's long, long stride carrying him ahead of us. I was forced to take two steps for each of his one.

The man glanced up as we approched. His eyes and face were open but sly, intellegence gleaming in his eyes and a smile at the corner of his lips. I couldn't really put an age to him, but he didn't seem to old, from the looks of him. Older then me, certianly, but then, most everyone was.

He motioned for us to sit, laying out a gold peice. Alaric and I placed our own silver down, and then I nudged Ann until she did the same. Stubborn elf.

And so the game began. And I don't mean cards.

He told us he'd heard that we had questions, and we all took seats, looking at one another uncertianly. Then Alaric's deep voice rumbled near my ear, jumping right in to ask about the emblem. The man barely glanced up from his cards as he replied that yes, he did have something like that, once. He'd lost it, though, which from what he suggested, was unusual.

We asked him what we remembered, but he said not much; what we'd already run over was pretty much what knowledge he had of the thing. Alaric asked if he knew what the writing on it said; the reply was no. He hadn't even known it was draconic. He said that after he'd lost the emblem, he'd seen the man who'd won it pretty often. That the man's luck seemed to change. When I asked how, he said that he'd lost just about everything, yet continued to come gamble....but never again to those specific tables.

As the game continued on, our answers came out slowly- and pretty freakin' expensivly. We didn't learn too much, to be honest, and Thoren was coming closer still to loosing his temper then I would like. The man makes me look absolutly mild. Ann was trying to calm him, but as he spooked her the fuck out it wasn't going too well, and we could all see gaurds headed our way. The man we spoke with held them at bay, though I wasn't sure for how long.

He told us he wasn't sure where his father had won the emblem, and told us there were a couple people in the city that could speak draconic, we'd just have to look. We thanked him, and he appologized to Thoren for the loss of his uncle, still just as calm as anything.

Ann and the man exchanged words for a moment, then, apperantly fed up, Thoren grinned-

-and flipped the fucking table.

I groaned into my hands and Alaric began to laugh softly. Ann followed Thorin out, and our contact began to sooth the gaurds that came over instantly.

Once free of them, I began trying to calm Thorin, with Alaric's help; Ann walked stiff and silent on his other side, her head down and her eyes averted. Still scared of him. I coughed, turning the big man's attention to me.

"Wanna find someone to speak draconic?" I asked, smirking cheekily, and with a scowl, he decided that was best.

And I began to do what I do best.

I walked just ahead of the group, chatting merrily with variouse people and always getting the information I was after. Each one put me in a better mood, each one got my confidence back up. I knew it was a fluke, but damn, if I hadn't missed speaking with such ease, such confidence.

My questions lead us to a huge peice of property, surrounded by gaurds, with a huge wall and massive fences. And no sooner did we find it- the instant it came into veiw- I felt that invisible noose tighten around my throat again. I gasped and my hand went to my neck, feeling frightened now. If someone had gotten around the curse, somehow, or made it null for a bit, then-

-there was a great chance we'd just walked straight into a trap. I half-turned to alert the others, but before I could get the words out, a servent approched us and asked what we needed.

Ann nudged me, and I nudged back. She pushed me, then, and I squeaked, stepping forward. I informed the servent we'd come after being told that there was a scholar here who could read draconian. We were lead inside, after that, to a tent on the manor grounds in the middle of a small, lovely garden.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw what sat there.

Small, for one like him, about Alaric's size, with gray skin marred with red and white patches, like a patchwork quilt. Sharp teeth, sharp claws. Deadly in apperance, and also? Very draconian in apperance. As we got nearer, we could see that half of his face was very human, almost normal in apperance, but the other half.....the other half weas turning draconian, and fast, from what we could see.

Thoren was the first off the ship, moving with deadly intent towards Jasper. Alaric and I followed, though Ann stayed put with the others, face in hands. They could hear, from where they were. Thoren snagged Jasper like a hound grabs a rabbit, dragging him up off the ground by his shirt after the man claimed to know nothing. Then he shook him, a terrier with a rat, intending to break it’s neck. My hand was over my mouth, and I was torn between howling with laughter and trying to stop him. Thorin was promising to make Jasper a very unhappy person if he found out that was a lie, before dropping Jasper as though he weighed no more then myself.

Now I did start to laugh. I could hear Ann, behind me, half laughing, half gasping as well.
Then Thorin returned to us, and her laughter stopped; she backed up for every step he took forward and disappeared once more behind Meyonne. That only made me laugh harder.
We didn’t have the money to buy Farn back, not that I was entirely willing to, anyway. Ann and

I hatched a plan, that she would scout the area before anyone headed in. Thorin knew where she needed to go and would give her directions, but Alaric and Meyonne decided to start playing the Big Overprotective Males. They refused to let her go alone. Which is incredibly stupid, really; what do they think we did before they came onto the scene? Hm? Found random big, strong muscle heads to play as bodygaurds?

Men.

“It’ll be safer if I go alone.” She said, glancing at me. “I can become a cat, if it makes you feel better.”

“What I was thinking.” I agreed, and couldn’t keep the huff out of my voice. We’re not helpless, damn it!

Meyonne pointed out that there were no cats in Almoric, as if that would end the argument. He certainly sounded like he expected it to.

Ann started to argue, when Conchetta’s soft, amazed voice sounded from behind us, asking Ann if she could really become a cat. I felt a smile soften my features, half turning to her. She was so cute and wide eyed, one of the few innocent beings I had ever met. Or so it appered.


Ann didn’t look away frm Meyonne once, caught in a silent, gaze-only battle with him, stubborn elf VS stubborn monk.

“Yes. I’m a rather cute blonde tabby, actually.”

“She is kinda cute.” I spoke up, grinning crookedly. What? She is. All fluffy and long furred. I won’t lie, petting her is nice, when she lets it happen. Everyone who uses that thing pretty much turns into the same cat, with very subtle differences; for example, when Skin used it, he was skinnier. Meyonne was just a touch bigger. I’m told my fur is a little darker. But all a blonde tabby.

Meyonne was shaking his head once more.

Ann demanded to know who better to go and scout the area then herself, but Meyonne still refused to let her go alone. Alaric finally volunteered to go with her, stating they were both ‘cursed’ anyway, and no one would look at them. Ann was agreeable enough to that, and Meyonne, as well. They got directions from Thorin, and left.

When a good hour had past, we started to get fidgety, the rest of us. They’d been gone too long, and it was getting nearer our deadline. It was decided that we’d go hunting for them.
We found Alaric, who said Ann had taken off on the rooftops after an enemy. He helped us locate her, and we headed in that direction. It wasn’t long before a little blonde cat came running at us, bleeding from few wounds and growling in that pissed-off-kitty-cat way. Thorin suddenly acted, shock and fear crossing his face, and to my horror nearly cleved Ann into half-an-elf.

“Stop, Thoren, it’s Anja!” Meyonne snapped. Thorin demanded to know how he was sure, that the cat could be a spy and needed to be killed.
Kitty-Ann growled and lay her ears.

“It’s Ann, Thorin, I should know. I’ve seen her like this dozens of times, no one else looks like this! Trust me!” I added, keeping the fear out of my tone. Instead I let myself sound amused and confident. Don’t second guess me, just trust me.

Thorin nodded, and Ann returned to human form. She was hurt, alright, just as Alaric had been when we'd found him, and Meyonne crowned himself King of the Obviouse when he stated that.

Ann gave him a tired look, then told us what she'd learned after Meyonne had Alaric heal her. She wanted to go back and watch the sentries, to see where they went, and wanted me with her. Dispite everything that's happened, every new addition to our group and change made to both of us, we're still a good team, she and I. And I looked forward to working solo with her again. I agreed without hesitation and a grin, and the men were going back through the streets, entering the way she and Alaric had origonally gone.

Ann and I slipped over the roofttops, towards the men, myself in front and Ann falling behind, my deadlier shadow. We split to close in once we got close enough-

-and then I slipped.

Then vanished like spooked deer while I swore under my breath and gripped my now-aching foot, lucky only that I hadn't fallen. I shrugged helplessly at Ann when she came into veiw, and began to pick my way towards the ally Ann and Alaric had been attacked in. She fell back again.

We closed into three archers, patrolling an overpass. I crept to the edge of one of the homes onthe street, and Ann was moments behind me when she got my attention, and signelled there were men below. Five, inside the house we walked on.

Okay then. So far, eight men.

Ann motioned me to the stairs, and I nodded, doing as she wished. I stopped, though when I saw yet three more.

Eleven.

I motioned hard at Ann, who told me to keep going to the stairs, not to strike yet. I did so, cautiously, now below her.

Then a wind began to sing. It grew harder and harder, louder and louder. I stayed perfectly still and hopped it was nothing we needed to worry about.

Then, suddanly, above me, Ann's bow sang. There was a solid, meaty thunk, and the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the rooftop.

One for one, nice shot, Ann.

Then, again, the high sound of an arrow's flight, followed by a scream of pain.

"Bitch!"

You have no idea.


Again the sound of an arrow being fired, and again, the sound of a body hitting the rooftop.

Two. Get it over with, Ann, stop toying with them!

I was moving, now, coming up on my own victim with dagger in hand. Fool was too slow, too stupid, and my blade cut through him like butter, even with him watching me come.

Ann's voice, calling out from above me. Funny, how in battle we call for each other rather then the others. Instinct, maybe, from traveling alone togther for so long?

"I'm trying, keep going!" I called up, and just as I did, I hear a thud, the arrow again, and a final heavy thunk.

Three men, four arrows. Damn, girl.

I spun, jumping up to just below where Ann stood, cornered by two men. I had one more- just one more to put down before I could help her. The fucker would just not drop.

"So, this is what comes." The taller of the two drawled, looking at Ann with a disgusted leer, then letting his eyes drift to me. The man I'd been fighting had stopped, just like that.

"We recived an invitation to play." I drawled, letting a smirk curl my lips up. My blood was up, the adreinaline rushing through my veins. That cold, calm place was back, where it hadn't been for weeks, and I could feel something mildly manic in my voice and my smile.

He grinned to match my own, jerking a hand to the left. "Kill the elf, this one is mine." He snarled.

"Well, don't I feel special." I barked back, shifting my grip on my daggers. In truth, I was- sort of confused. Had my little taunt made him that angry?

He only kept grinning, and then his body was shifting, rippling, contorting and twisting and then, standing before me, was a sabertooth tiger, towering above my own height. His fangs gleamed, and his eyes sparked with dangerouse malice and intellegence, a bad combination. He was not beautiful, as Ann had been, but pure power.

And much much larger.

"Well, here, kitty kitty." I purred, dispite the fear that now battled for attention along with the adreilaline. Why on why had the pretty kitty decided he wanted me for himself? Just because I mocked him? Oh, temper temper, puss.

Above me, Ann had vanished onto the rooftops, and I could hear her yelling; Thorin and Meyonne were coming up in my perivrial vision, one holding a great axe, one with halabard. Alright, reinforcements. Let's hope Ann and I could last until they got to us.

And so we danced. I quickly found out it was a really bad thing if kitty managed to grapple me, and with sheer luck managed to break free once; then I jumped off the stairs and began trying to coax him onto ground level, which he didn't want to do. It wasn't long before Meyonne was by my side, in front of me; and we found out something very interesting.

Kitty kitty tried to bite Meyonne, and to all our of surprise-

-nothing happened. Meyonne stood, looking mildly confused and amused, and then laughed a bit. "I don't," He said, "think that did what you meant it to do."

And then we attacked.

Halfway through our suddan rush of kitty kitty, I we all stopped at the sound of voices from above us. We turned, looking up, and my heart jumped into my mouth.

Heshnel.

On his left and right were more figures, all robed and wearing white masks- one a woman, holding something I couldn't see, and the other a man, holding paper. We could hear, clearly, though we couldn't see well. A werebear (where did that come from?) told Heshnel it wasn't his fight. Confused, I glanced at Meyonne, arching a brow. He shrugged.

Hesnel said he was only there to observe, and that he had quite a bit of gold on this fight. No one, he said, was to take an agressive action on them.

Then the bear growled, and Ann yelped for Thorin. The fight was on once more. Thorin powerhoused past us and the weretiger, as if none of us were there, and charged at the bear. Heshnel was saying something else, but I couldn't catch it. Thorin's powerful yell drowned it out as his axe slammed into the bear.

Then our attention was brought back to the tiger, and what happened above I don't know.

The next thing I remember the bear was bellowing for our tiger to 'avenge him', but the tiger, huge coward he was, yelled back for the bear to 'avenge himself!'

And then he ran away. Too fast for me to even consider chasing him, and no way I could track him, not, perhaps, without Ann. So, I settled for the next best thing.

Heckling.

"Ann was a prettier one!"

Beside me, Meyone flashed me a Look, then headed up to the roof to assecess the situation. I just grinned and followed.

When we got up there, Alaric and An nwere argueing over keeping the now unconciouse were-bear alive, and bring him back on the ship. My eyebrows shot up at the suggestion, knowing that Ann's explosion was going to come any moment now.

Sure enough, the familer stubborn look came across her face and her arms folded. I know that pose very well. That is Ann's I'm done listening to anything you have to say pose. Meyonne, Thorin and I stayed quietly out of the way while Alaric and Ann bickered. Alaric had a good point; questioning the bear would have gotten us a few useful answers. And if we'd kicked his ass once, we could do it again, if he tried anything.

Ann, of course, refused to allow the bear onto her ship. She's rediculesly protective of a chunk of flying wood, as if it were alive and aware.

For all I know......maybe it is, in a way.

That is a mildly disturbing thought, and I'll let it drop now.

Alaric again snapped that we could question this fallen behemoth, if we only left him alive for a bit longer. Pushing her. Pushing the subject.

I knew what happens when she feels backed into a corner. Like a donkey, she plants her heels and throws her weight against the rope, and if you keep trying she'll bite you. You can't force or demand for Ann to move. You have to coax and coherce her.

Alaric found this out the hard way when Ann lifted her bow and plowed several arrows dead on into the bear. When she looked up and met my eyes, I realized something.

She made the oath. She always makes her oath when she feels threatened, and if she doesn't follow through on it-

-ug. She gets mopey and gloomy and is without doubt the most unpleasent and unhelpful person to be around. Ever.

I let my lips turn up into a little smile of understanding a nodded at her- that was right, anyway- and Alaric let his argument go without too much bitterness, it seemed. I glanced down at the bear's still body, not breathing, barely moving. It would stop in a few minutes, like the aftershocks to an earthquake.

What does it say about me that I've seen enough bodies die to know?

Still, this was a were-bear, not a normal human, and I couldn't help asking just to be sure if he was really dead. To my surprise, it was Hesnel that answered me, stepping forward. He said no, it wasn't, but as the body litterally melted to a steaming pile of goo before us I wondered if maybe just this once he was mistaken.

I stepped back from the goo as Hesnel continued to speak. He told us we'd won him a good amount of money, and for it, he'd see that Farn was returned to us. We hadn't won him enough for the information we wanted, though. I smirked. Again, I couldn't help but sort of like him; he certianly didn't seem all bad. And if the Were that had attacked us didn't like him, then he was okay in my book.

Ann set about checking the bodies while Hesnel made snide comments that we all ignored, then Alaric cast a spell I, by now, as used to seeing. One that lets him speak with the dead.

Creepy as all fuck, it is, but really useful sometimes.

He asked the bear why they wanted us out of the city, because apperantly they did.

Money, of course, was his driving reason. It usually is, especally in these situations. I was not really startled.

Apperantly he'd also taken a potion to change into the were-bear form, unlike my kitty. He'd changed au natural, as far as I'd noticed. They asked the bear what that potion had been.

Now, here I was a little taken aback. Because he replied, blood.

Oh, gross.

Next question was 'who gave you the- well, erm, the blood, technically, but okay.....'

And the answer made my stomach slam to my feet.

Razen Delcova.

Ah, fuck.

Seems like the people I know are smack bang in the middle of all this drama, and very few of them seem to have any decent roles.

When asked where he'd last been seen, the answer came back vauge enough. Something or someplace called 'Death Fire's Forge.' And isn't that a lovely little sounding name? Every place we go to seems to entail general unpleasentness somehow. Mostly, anyway.

I glanced at my compaions, and someone asked 'where', but there was no reply, and suddanly Hesnel was reminding us that we'd made just a little bit of a commotion and gaurds were probably rapidly coming.

I had about enough of the gaurds of Almoric for one evening, thanks all the fucking same.

It was time to go.

Hesnel melted back into the shadows, with his lackies, and I snagged Ann and Alaric. Meyonne and Thorin were already headed away from the mess, wisely. We made our way back to the ship in silence; the only speaking was rapid gestureing between Ann and I, totally voiceless conversation. You'd be surprised, I think, at how complex our little hand signals to each other can get; hell, I was surprised. I woke up knowing my name.

That's all.

There are a ton of people who know me I don't know, and things about myself I discover. Like being married, and 'dead'.


Oh, and guess what, apperantly you know this entire language composed of hand signals and guestures that only a small portion of people besides you understand.

Oh, yeah, and you can read this language to the south of here, because apperantly, you're from there.

And did I mention the group of mind-pinging not-dwarves that live in a huge underground city you apperantly frequented?

Oh, and your daddy just happens to be a necromancer and people are certianly frightened whenever his name comes up. Just to let you know, your dad might be Evil Incarnate. Have a nice day!

.....of course, what teenager wouldn't think their dad is evil incarnate?

Ah, the teenage drama.

Meanwhile, getting back to the point.

When we got back on board- past a group of solom, watchful soilders- I was immediatly attacked by Conchetta, not to my displeasure. I felt something inside me lighten as she squealed and ran over, catching her easily and looping an arm over her shoulders. I murmured to her to calm down, grinning- her exuberance was impossible not to return. She made me feel like a big sister, even though I had no idea if she was older or younger then me; she looked within a few years of my age either way, but acted much younger. So, by default, I was big sister.

We had to stay for the night-no ships, apperantly, were allowed to leave at night, a situation I would find myself becoming steadily more used to. But I'm jumping ahead. For now, we bidded our time and waited for morning. Some of us slept. Some of us couldn't. I, for one, woke absurdly early in the morning. Normally, I'm a lazy bitch, and when my life doesn't depend on waking at dawn I tend to sleep like a log until my body is good and ready to get up.

I barely slept at all, and woke only an hour or so after the sun was up. Damn it. I dragged myself into cloths and on deck, feeling gritty, crotchity, grumpy and generally bitchy. I wasn't the only one up; most of the crew was running around, of course, and Ann and Meyone stood at the railing, silent together. They don't really seem to need to speak. Conchetta's babbling brook of a voice reached me, and it sand-papered off some of my bad mood. I smiled sleepily and wandered off to find her. She'd probably be with Noman.

Lord, as if we don't have enough problems. There are so many personal love dramas in our little group it's getting to be a little rediculas. And I am the worst of it all. Except for maybe Mr. And Mrs. Obliviouse at the railing.

.....damn it, Meyone, do something to her! I want to see one mussed, slightly stunned, and well-kissed (ehehe, yeah, we'll go with 'kissed') elf!

A few minutes later, though, there was a murmur through the crew, and Ann was flashing to me that something very large was flapping right our way. Snarling, I got the other's attention and we headed that way.

Ugh, it's too early for this.

Before anyone did much of anything, a huge black raven swooped down on our ship- and when I saw huge, I mean it, like freakin' rideable- and dropped off a sack. Then without so much as a by your leave, it took off again.

Blink. Blink.

Long pause. Stare.

No one moved- I think we all kind of expected it to blow up, or rip open and spill out a stupid number of lycans. There was a note pinned on the side, though, and as far as I could tell, it didn't read haha suckers.

It did, though, read something nearly as bad. Lycanthropy.

Aw well just damn it all to hell, then.

Then the sack started to make noise.

Everyone kind of went stiff as a crew member cut Farn out; he was bound, though, with a what looked like a gold-and-white, otherwise normal, rope, and someone hadn't done a half-assed job of it. Distantly, I heard Ann telling someone to get Alaric, and then she looked at me. She was pale, and yeah, yep, that was fear in her eyes. I smiled slightly, trying to reassure her. She and I had our lycanthropy removed, Alaric would be able to do it for Farn.

I hoped. My hands went instintivly for my weapons, tight on the hilts. The look Farn was giving us wasn't at all affectionate, and I was fully prepared to stick the poor, stupid fucker like a pig if I so much as thought he was going to hurt anyone on this ship. One wrong move, one wrong twitch, and this threat would be gone.

I felt sorry for Farn. It was horrible, what had happened to him. I remembered my own curse; remembered the terror of being so out of control, of being entirely at someone else's bidding. The sick rolling of my stomach the day Ann and I had slaughtered an innocent family.

Pity aside, a threat is a threat.

I didn't take my eyes off him, not even when Conchetta and Alaric came back. I snagged the note and handed it to Alaric, who drawled about perhaps wanting Farn cured?

I gave him a disbeliving glance, even as black humor invaded my anger. I couldn't help but snicker. "We kind of need him." I replied, letting my voice stay light. It wasn't as hard as it had seemed.

Alaric met my eyes and of course agreed to try. Never once did my hands leave the hilts of my daggers.

Not once.

But it was obviouse when the humanity began to return to him; you could see it not only in his eyes, but in the way he seemed to shrink. It was as if there had been some aura making him look big and powerful, and the more Alaric worked at him the more it fadded away. Like rock being worn down over time. He slumped a little more and a little more, and as he did I felt my grip on my weapons loosening. To my surprise, I felt tired, too, as if I'd just run a marathon. I glanced at Ann, who was staring at the pair intently and didn't so much as glance over.

Then, Alaric stepped back, unwinding the rope and gathering it. My hands had fallen back to my sides by then, but they didn't go for my hilts again. I felt my fingers give an invoulentary twitch, fist loosely, but that was it. It was painfully obviouse Farn was no threat at that moment. He slumped forward and had to be caught by crew members; I heard him ask for food. His voice, normally a powerful and demanding hauty tone, was now barely any better then a croaking frog. He was speaking so low I nearly couldn't hear him, voice cracking and breaking in a million places like he'd gone back to being a teenager with his voice changing.

Then he said a word that was just totally out of my leauge.

Oracalcium.

"Ora-what now?" The words were out before I could call them back. That happens, a lot, with me.

No one designed to reply; like I said. Happens a lot with me.

Instead, we headed down to get some food into Farn and the rest of us, too. Now that the crisis had passed, my stomach was chewing at itself, and I knew I couldn't be the only one that was hungry. Farn was moving like an old man, slow and huddled over, and Ann kept sending me Looks that were both significent and full of concern. I returned them, but what did she expect me to do, right then? There was nothing to do. Comforting words would be hollow. We needed him stronger, and we needed answers. The rest would come.

Farn told us what he'd learned during his kidnapping. Razzen Delcova had been missing for a week, and the men were worried about the supplies of their 'blood'; the werebear had mentioned blood. Apperantly, this deity called Ilasureta, or 'The Cleansing Flame', was a popular subject. No one was very sure why.

We fell silent after that, everyone's eyes on plates or floor. None of wanted to breech the next topic; out of everyone here, only Ann and I were really qualified to understand what had happened to Farn. And we had very differant perceptions of it, we did.

I had just opened my mouth to speak, when it was Ann's voice, not mine, that broke the silence. She asked Farn what he'd been turned into, when he turned. He told us it was a were-tiger, like the one that Meyone and I'd gone up against. Probably the same damn one. Apperantly, he'd only bit Farn in a fit of temper tantrum. He'd gotten all pissed off about something and, like any true bully, taken it out on the weakest member of the party, the only one incapible of defending himself.

Farn also said he'd killed, in that form. Told us the weretiger had thrown a prisoner in with Farn, and our diplomate had heard a woman's voice whisper to him to feed. I think he said she'd said, you're mine now, or one of us now, or something to that effect, something creepy and bloodthirsty.

The topic was swiftly changed, then, almost too swiftly, to where we meant to go next. It was almsot decided to go straight to the Kotem, so that we didn't loose our chance. They were nomadic; they traveled often and were very hard to track. But we didn't know what to ask or do once we'd found them; kind of stupid to go there with no plan.

So, much to Noman's disgust, we decided to reverse course and head back for Molholander. It was the next obviouse place to find clues of where to go.

It was the only place we knew of, to find clues of where to go.

We dismissed ourselves, one by one. I followed Ann and Alaric, Meyonne and Farn up on deck. Ann caught my eye as I came out, her head jerking slightly towards Farn. There was something stormy and brooding in her gaze, and I felt bile rise to the back of my throat.

My Farn's curse was lifted, but from the look she was giving me, he was certianly not all better.