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[OnionGroove]

Annoying Author's Note: If you got to read my RP/(partial) rough story draft Skin Deep, some of this will be familiar to you. If you didn't get to, sorry about that, but (Goddess willing) it will eventually be published. I had originally intended the colaborative effort City of Shadows to be a sort of sequal to Skin Deep, but unfortunately due to errors on my part, it didn't work out as I had envisioned. I'm hoping that the best elements from Shadows can serve as a sort of epilogue for this story when it eventually, Goddess willing, is published. Be warned! Because I'm on vacation right now and will be moving at the end of May, there likely will be pauses in writing, so just hang in there.



This is a work of fiction: the people and places contained herein are born of my imagination, and while some may bear the names of ancestors of mine or be inspired by one of my loved ones, any resemblence between them is coincidental.

© T. L. Smith 2008

[OnionGroove]

I am not Death, though I have walked with Her.

I am not one of the Dead, though I speak to Them.

I am not a Devil, though that blood runs in my veins, and one of that glorious race was my Mate.

I am not lost without him, but I yearn for him, Dear Goddess, I yearn.

I am not these things, but I have been marked and changed by them.

Who am I then, if not this?

I am Orgarune Hakkonsdatter, the daughter of Oroleen the Weaver and Hakkon Sommerled, Dragon-on-the-Sea, Martiarch of my House and Chief of Clan Sommerled, though the actual mantle passed from me some time ago. I was born on another world, another Terra, far removed from Gothador and wherever it is that I am now. I am known by many names and in many places, though "Ogee" is what I am called by those whose love, loyalty and kindness have blessed me. I am sung about in my homeland, and I have learned that there I have passed into Legend. I laughed when I was told this, for I left there but a short time ago (I had thought), but what has been for me just three short years in Gothador, has been more than a century for my World since I "passed through". One hundred and fifty years, to be exact.

My beautiful, wonderful, masterful Beloved, my Solanales.....what became of him? What of my Clan? My Family? My poor forlorn departed friend could not tell me, for he was on the Path to his Time of Rest, but he left me saying, "the Good far outweighs the Bad, and the Field of Honor is grazed by horses now, both Kin and Kind." While my Heart of Hearts rejoyces with that knowledge, I despair for news of my Lifemate. I watched my friend's Spirit Self become totally ethereal, then disappear, and I remember not knowing what to do with myself at that moment. There were so many in Gothador to whom I could have turned in that moment but there was only one to whom I wished to go. Another Devil Mage, so very, very much like my Beloved that sometimes the sight of him makes me ache--it was to him I would have turned but when I moved, at that moment, my feet took me to a different destination.

I still don't know what inextricable force has drawn me here, wherever I am, but I do know I am absolutely, utterly, desperately alone. I had been led to the Braskin Plains, a realm I thought I had explored thoroughly, and I stumbled upon the ruins of an ancient and long-forgotten Castle. While searching for some sign, some clue as to what Family had once called it home, I became distracted by what looked to me like a mural, and somehow passed through their still-operational warp gate, ending up here. Though I've no idea what this place is, I do know a couple of things about it. One, it's certainly not Gothador; two, it's exceedingly old, and three, I'm trapped here. There's no way for me to go back. There was a solid stone wall behind me. I stood there like a complete idiot, dumbstruck and crying, crying for my Lifemate, crying for my dear friends, and crying for that other deadly Devil Mage I so loved.

I've no tears left to cry I wept so much, which is a pity really, for now I drag myself through a desert greater than that parched realm in Gothador, greater even than Angvi's Curse back on my homeworld, and I am so dehydrated and thirsty I think I shall perish of the heat before the night comes. In this wretched place I am alone with my thoughts and I find my head is filled with memories that are not mine; some have come to me from Shades on the Paths to their Time of Rest, and others were gifts to me from loved ones. Some of the most strange and disturbing, as well as some of the most wondrous, were given to me by my sister Azkaban, She of Many Lives, and those are the memories clamoring for attention now. Movies she saw and books she read, over and over again, back on the Terra which she was born into a few times, and I am reminded (ha ha) of a scene from one of her favorite movies. It's when Chief Justice Fargo begins his "Long Walk" into an uncivilized and uncaring land, knowing what awaits him in it, and I understand now that look on his face. As if that were not bad enough, there is a quote from one of Azzie's favorite authors that has always haunted me, partly because I have heard it from the lips of the Dying, people who could have never have read that book, and yet they jabber it exactly. "That is Not Dead which can Eternal lie, Yet with strange Eons, even Death may Die." What makes it even more haunting and troubling is that I was told by a Shade that had become lost in Gothador, that those very words were chisled into a stone arch above a gate somewhere, admonishing wayward or forsaken travelers that all their Hope had fled them.

I passed through that gate about an hour ago.

I'm so very tired and so very thirsty, and I just can't go on. Yet, I can not go back, either. I see rocks nearby, perhaps they can offer me some sort of cover until night comes, or perhaps not. Perhaps, after I drift off into sleep I will be devoured by the sand, or creatures that dwell within it.....

[OnionGroove]

Water.....

there is water all around me and I wake with a start, thinking myself delirious, only to find the water is really there. Cool, sweet-smelling water that relieves my thirst as it courses past my lips. After my vision and senses clear I realize that night has fallen and the sky is full of stars, and that people have gathered near me. I realize also that I am soaked, my skin is saturated and my clothes are dripping, and that (much to my surprise) the water is running between my clothes and my skin. Someone is talking softly to me and though I don't understand the words, I am calmed. As I try to sit up I realize that I am not flat on the ground, but rather somehow lifted above the desert sand. "What magick is this?" I whisper, and someone strokes my hair gently, saying, "it is our magick, Sister."

I look around at them and I see maybe more than a dozen women, women all wrapped in shimmering brown cloth so that even their faces and hair is hidden. I feel a kind of serenity from them, yet I see some fully armed with shields, blades and bows as if a fortress has been raised where I fell. If it is a fortress though, the walls are invisible. Before I can manage to voice any of my questions, the Lady to my right lifts her hand to my head. On her middle finger is a ring that smells like tritanium, with a gorgeous braded band and thin wiring that holds a large crystal to the band. She touches the crystal to my forehead and all the excess water around me draws up into the crystal and fills it. It glows like a blue star on her finger, and another Lady takes my right hand and slips a similar ring on my middle finger. The full crystal is touched to my empty one, and before my eyes my crystal is filled, and is glowing as well.

"This is the sacred Water of Life, which only women may carry, though special men may find and defend it," says the Lady to my right as she lifts me and carries me to a small covered area. "You are fortunate that your feet brought you this way, otherwise you would have been dust before we would have found you. This is our one night a month that we celebrate, and you are here to celebrate with us." She sits me down before a huge platter of food that is nearly overflowing, and I didn't realize how hungry I was until now. There is no meat that I can see, but fruits and breads, and vegetables I have never seen before, and I am invited to eat my fill. I ask them why they only celebrate one night a month and they laugh, telling me that it would not do for them to outshine the Moon. Their First Mothers made a deal with Her long, long ago that they would have their festival only on the night She slept, so that no one would mistake their light for Hers, and in return she would grant them special gifts, wonders that no one else could work.

A good deal, I think, for all around me is bounty and joy, and those who are not feasting are dancing, and in the tent behind me I can hear a Lady telling a story. I ask one of the Ladies why they are covered, why they hide themselves, and she tells me that the sight of them drives some men to madness. It is one of Her gifts, and it affects only those men who have done harm or would do harm to women or children. Once a month, on the day of the night the Moon shows Herself in full, the Sisters walk through whatever village they are passing, without their raiments on, and such men condemn themselves for their actions. Without fail, they kill themselves, not realizing they are delivering themselves into the hands of the Ultimate Justicer. "I am the Law," I giggle, and the Lady to my right nudges me. "Something like that," she whispers, and after a moment I get the feeling that she knows exactly what I'm talking about. "Following the Cleansing," the other Lady continues, "the good people of the village have a feast in their gathering place, under the Moon's light."

I have more questions but two of the smaller Sisters pull me up and into the dance circle with them, and I learn their steps very quickly. The words of their song are beyond me, but that matters very little, for the meaning of it all is crystal clear. This truly is a time of joy, and after what seems like hours of dancing, a small group of men are escorted into the camp. They are beautiful, these men, and I think these are the "special men" the Sister spoke of a while ago, the special men who find and defend the sacred Water of Life. They are the Brothers, I am told, and on these nights they join the Sisters so that the celebration can be complete. "Maybe, just maybe," someone whispers, "the seeds of new life will be sown." The men are welcomed with giggles and coy smiles, and I am asked if I want one of them. I blush and hesitate, my lip trembles and I think of the two Devils I love and have lost. "No, I.....I-" the first Sister who helped me takes my hand and we walk back to the feasting tent. "It is alright, little Sister, it is understood." We sit down on the cushions and she splits one of the fragrant juice fruits with me and says, "I gave my Water and my Heart to a man long ago, when I was little more than a girl, and he never returned. I have never wanted another, nor have I ever been given an answer to my why."

She pulls me to her and I hold her, and we cry a little, and after a while the great celebration quiets down into smaller, private ones. My friend leads me to a covered place with soft blankets and softer pillows, and as we bury ourselves in the comfort, one of the men comes to stand outside our sleeping place. He is wrapped like the Sisters, only his raiment is black, and the cloth is parted so that his eyes can be seen. They are deep blue and intence, but I sense only kindness in him. He bows respectfully to us and says softly, "I wish only to guard you while you sleep, though I will go if you wish it." He speaks to me, and I can not help but blush. Nodding, I tell him that his protection is most welcome, and he sits down in the sand just at the threshold, a smile in his eyes.

[OnionGroove]

When dawn comes and I wake to meet it, everything is gone, as if it had all been an illusion. Only my new friend is still with me; she holds my hand and offers me a bread filled with fruit to ease my morning hunger. I ask her where the camp and everyone has gone to, and why, and she smiles softly. "On these nights, little Sister, we move on before the Sun rises." I look around at the parched landscape and ask her why we're still here. She sighs and strokes my hair. "Little dear, I.....I can not take you with me, though I would if I could. Traveling beneath this sand, you could not breathe and would perish." I fidget with my bootlace and she lifts my face up to her. "Fear naught, my little Sister. I will not allow you to go about in this world empty-handed." She kisses my forehead and pats my cheek. "First off," she says, "your gem there, I do not know what it means to your people, but here it sets you apart as a Holy Woman, and there are places you will pass through where that will make you prey. We must cover you appropriately." She pulls off a layer of her raiment and drapes me in its shimmering comfort, wrapping my head so that just my face shows. "This will also shield your head and eyes when the Sun is at His strongest." The cloth is so soft, and smells of fresh rain on a spring morning.....it reminds me of home, and my Mother's handwork. She touches my hand and tells me that as long as I wear the ring I was given I will never be without fresh water. Then she puts a bag of the same shimmering cloth around my shoulders and shows me the contents. They look like crispy and round thin biscuits, but she says that if I add a drop of my water to one, it will be pleasant and ready to eat.

"Was the land always like this?" My question makes her eyes tear up and she sighs deeply. "No, little dear, not always. Once this was a lush and green world, and even this desert, which was much smaller, was a pleasant place to be." I nod and after a moment of thought I ask her what happened to make the world change. "Greed, little Sister. Some men fell away from the Goddess and some women followed them. They no longer saw Nature as Sacred, but sought to control it and draw their weath up from out of The Mother herself. As they became rich, this world fell into suffering, but those people did not care. They weren't people anymore, they had become devourers. Everything was theirs to consume. There was famine then, and the Dying began, and the world fell. War rose up and lasted far longer than most survivors care to recall. This is all that is left now, and all becomes worse as time goes on." It is my turn to sigh deeply, and with dispair. "And I am to wander this world alone....." She helps me up to where she sits and hugs me to her. "No, little dear, you will not be alone. I," she pauses and looks deeply into my eyes, "am Saysha, and I am my People. You need only call my name, and we shall come. And you have a protector, do not forget." She rises and clasps my hands for a moment, then steps away from me, and my breath catches in my throat. I can not help but be afraid to be without the Sisters, but yet I know they can not be the only kind people in the world.

Well, ok, they could very well be, but I'd rather believe otherwise.

A cool breeze distracts my attention from my friend, and when I look back, she is gone. Dark brown sand the color of her raiment lingers on the lighter sand for a second, and then disappears as well. And so, I sit. I don't know where to go.....back to where I first found myself to try to find a way back to Gothador, or.....stay and learn? I've a sense of purpose, a sense I've not had in quite some time, what if I can make a difference to someone, even in a small way? Shouldn't I try? And besides, I am the Daughter of Hakkon the Dragon; it will not do for me to cower. Enough with sitting and sulking, I tell myself, then decide to have one of those crackery things she gave me. They're kind of a dark purple-ish, with little white bumps that maybe are salt, and I add the drop of water like she told me. It plumps up before my eyes, like a sponge, and its scent is just delightful. It looks like a little cake, and the taste is.....I can't believe it! It tastes like the fig bread Jarnsaxa would make for snacks, and the white bumps are actually nuts! Oh, this is marvelous.....if I have only one or two a day I can make them last, and maybe I can figure out how to make them myself. I'll nibble this as I go I think, but as I turn I find I'm not alone like I thought I was.

Standing a respectful distance from me is that man in black raiment, who sat guard over me while I slept last night.

He bows and I smile, and I extend my hand to him. He takes it gently and goes to one knee, his blue eyes sparkling up at me. "Lady, I would protect you unto my death if you would wish it," he says, and I am lost for words for a moment. Trying to seem dignified I reply, "I will gladly have your protection, but I would not wish you to die." He kisses my hand and the cloth of his raiment is as soft as what I wear, and as he rises he whispers, "so mote it be." I keep hold of his hand because the contact comforts me, and to my joy he does not break the connection. As we begin our trek to parts unknown, I ask, "are you hungry?" He does not answer my question right away, as if he has to ponder it. "Ah, no, Lady, I am.....fine," he whispers. "You've eaten then?" He shakes his head and I bite my tongue. "You're hungry then," I say and let go his hand to pull a biscuit out of my bag. "Lady, please, I can not take what sustainance you have," he protests quietly and I make a face at him. "Oh, please," I chide him gently and tell him that I will not have him go without when I have enough. "Please," I say, "if you honor me, then share my food." That gets him, his eyes widen just briefly and he agrees. But before I can reach into my bag, he says, "if you must feed me, I will share some of what you already have." His raised eyebrow makes my heart flutter, for both my beloved Devils would often do the same thing. I agree and divide the remaining cake, giving him the larger piece since I have already had some. We resume our walk and he thanks me, savoring the gift as I eat the rest of mine, then I take his hand again. He grips my hand ever so slightly and I can not help but giggle.

This should be very interesting.....

[OnionGroove]

He sings to me softly as we leave the drifting sands of the Sisters' desert, and enter.....another desert. I stop and stare out at the partched, sun-baked landscape and his song falters. "Come, Lady, we must not waste time in this place," he says gently and I pick up my pace. Squeezing his hand I ask, "how can anything survive here?" He shakes his head just slightly and tells me, "nothing does, for very long." There is a shift in the dry wind and he glances quickly to our left; I watch him scan the horizon and I can tell he is a little uneasy. He growls, I think, and quickens his step, which makes me almost have to run.....I ask him what he sees but he will not tell me. "Though you are not a child, you are still young, Lady, and there are lessons in this world I would rather you not learn," he says, and I look up at him with slight suspicion. "You speak as if you know me," I say and he sighs. "Then I speak too much," he replies quietly but I'm not put off. "Who are you, my Protector?" He does not answer, but raises his hand slightly as we approach a small swirl of sand that's steadily rising. He pulls me to him as the swirl engulfs us and I close my eyes tightly. "Who I am isn't important right now," he tells me, "getting to safety is."

I feel his embrace tighten and there is the sensation that we are floating suddenly, and I am tempted to peek, though my instincts tell me not to. The sensation does not last long and I feel solid ground beneath my feet again. "What--what was that?" He chuckles at my exasperation and tells me, "it was a vortex, Lady, and we likely owe our lives to it, for if the nomads had caught us they certainly would have done us harm." He pulls my raiment closer around my face and admonishes me to stay very near him, and that if we can pass as father and daughter we will be well off. I do not want to be here, I sense no good-will in this place, and I know I would not survive five minutes here without my noble protector. We near what looks to be a shop and my protector bids me not to react to what may be said to me. I take a deep breath and clench my teeth, and we step into the shop.

I make the mistake of looking up at the jars on the shelf and my stomach turns.....I struggle to remain calm but it's difficult. There is enough of the poor, dessicated thing in the large jar for me to tell it had once been a cat. The sting of my tears blinds me and I give silent thanks; I don't want to see any more of this place, and I feel my protector pull me closer. We enter the back of the shop and my protector gently puts me behind him, with my back to a row of clay pots, and addresses the merchant in a firm tone. I do not understand the language but I think maybe our way out is being arranged.....and I am right. As we exit the back of the shop the merchant says, "perhaps it is time for your daughter to grow up and earn her keep." My protector lifts me into a caravan and replies simply, "only a fool would think he could afford her." He climbs into the caravan beside me and pulls the heavy covering on it closed, and as the caravan convoy begins to move he arranges the pillow for me. "If I tell you to lie down and pretend to sleep, you must do it." I nod silently and wish again I was back in Gothador. "We must be very cautious, you and I," he says, a shadow in his eyes, and continues, "the flesh traders are out and about." My hope of finding other kind people wanes and I ask him how he knows. "The merchant told me. They are hunting young girls now."

I reflect on the exchange between them and it makes sense to me. I ponder it further then ask, "what did your reply tell him?" My protector reaches out and takes my hands in his, kisses them both and says, "that I will kill to defend you." This day is weighing on me and I am tired already; my protector offers me the comfort of his arms and I gladly take it. I think if I listen closely to his heart while I rest it may tell me who is his, and thus why he has made my safety his responsibility.

[OnionGroove]

I wake to heated voices outside of the convoy, and the sound of my protector's thundering heart. He wraps his raiment around us and whispers, "Lady, if I can not defeat them, I will not let us be taken alive." His body grows hot and I sense powerful magick welling up in him as the voices draw nearer to us. I feel the weight of our caravan shift as someone forces their way in to it, and I struggle to remain calm. "Aww, now, les' have a look," a scratchy voice says and I catch the slightest scent of something familiar from my protector. Somehow I know what he's about to do, and I make a decision. If I am about to die I will do so on my own terms, and I pull back my protector's raiment and mine, meeting the flesh trader's gaze directly.

My protector doesn't have time to protest.

I find myself staring into the aged and weather-worn face of an old man. I suspect he is not prepaired for what he sees, and he doesn't move. Has he not seen white hair on a young woman before? Or maybe my slightly pointed ears have disturbed him. His expression changes and I want to laugh, but as it changes further my urge to laugh quickly vanishes. The lines on his face seem to deepen, his eyes become bleary and he sighs, "a Holy Woman....." He shakes his head and sheathes his blade with a shaking hand, then rubs his face with the hand that might have taken my life. He looks at me again, his eyes reddening, his lip trembling, his voice barely above a whisper, "my Mum was a Holy Woman....." Slowly I pull my right arm from around my protector's waist and ask softly, "if I give you something precious, will you leave us in peace?" He nods and replies, his voice cracking, "yes, Lady, I swear it." I touch his forehead with my crystal ring, and I actually feel a few drops of the Sacred Water transfer to him. I do not know what this gift means to him but it must be very profound; as I pull away he smiles as though a weight has been lifted from him and he bows to me deeply. I don't know what I've done, but he keeps his word, thanking me as he draws the covering of our caravan tightly closed. There is shouting and the distinct sound of a fist connecting with a jaw, then a thud, then a great deal of movement.

"I should have expected you to do something like that," my protector whispers and I look up at him, and as I am about to demand he tell me who his is, the convoy leader opens the cover of our caravan. I pull my raiment back into place and turn to him, and I see something in his hand. "I don't know what you did to put them off, but I'm in your debt. This," he holds up some kind of talisman, "assures me, and whomever I transport, protection from those rogues from now on." My protector leans forward and examines the talisman closely and asks the leader what the man said when the gift was bestowed, and the leader shrugs. "He invoked some name, he said it was given in the name of Amice, then they departed. There was a.....disagreement.....before he gave it, I'm sure you heard." We nod and he shrugs again, saying, "whatever you did, it was a good thing. We'll be on our way again shortly, and I suspect we'll make town before nightfall." He pulls the cover closed and fastens it, and I lay down on the soft cushions. As the convoy gets back underway, I look up at this man who defends me and tug on his raiment. "Why won't you tell me who you are?" He gazes down at me, his eyes bright, and pretends to pull the hem of his raiment away from me. "When it is time for you to know, I will tell you," he says, and I growl at him. "Tonight when you are sleeping I will peek at you--" he laughs at me when I tell him this and I think it's a beautiful sound. "How will you do such a thing when I do not sleep?"

I sit up and look at him incredulously. "You do to sleep," I tell him and he shakes his head. "I do not. How can I guard you if I am asleep?" I sigh with feighned exasperation and ask him, "do you really know who I am?" He laughs and tells me, "I shall answer no more of your questions, little one," and I reach out to pull the soft cloth from his head. He gently deflects my hand and says, "patience is a virtue, Lady, and I shall see to it that your virtue remains intact." I sigh and flop back down on the cushions, grumbling, "whether I like it or not....." I have whys and wherefors that need to be answered, I need to know why I feel so secure with this stranger, I need so many things and I hate feeling needy. I hear him move and feel his warmth as he lays down beside me, then hugs me to him. "Yes, little one, I do know who you really are, and when it is time you will have what you seek. I promise." Curiousity overwhelms me but my heart tells me to be patient as he asks. It won't be easy, but I'll do my best.

[OnionGroove]

I find myself in darkness and a soft bed, wrapped in the comfort of equally soft blankets. I chide myself for sleeping so much, but.....I feel so drained. It is a small bed, only room enough for me, and I peer out from my little cloth fort to see where my protector is, once my eyes adjust and gather the incredibly faint light available. He is sitting at a small window, whispering, and I recognize it is a Barrier spell he is strengthening. "How long have we been here?" I ask softly, and he replies, "for some time. You were sleeping so deeply I did not wish to disturb you, so I carried you in." I smile at the thought of it, and of his kindness, and with some effort I sit up in the little bed. It's small but I've slept in smaller, and for a moment I am tickled by an old memory from my life now long past, by my homeworld's time. When we traveled from our land to take Lord Thomas Súilleabháin's remains back to his Ancestral home, that night when my Beloved was 'overcome' and divised a way to share my tiny bed with me.....I can't help having a giggle at my own expence. My protector turns slightly so that I can clearly see his profile and says, "I was very tempted to peek into your dream, but erecting a Barrier seemed more important and by the time the Barrier was finished, so was your dream." I don't remember my dream, and I am a little reluctant to ask him what was so tempting, but I ask anyway. "Lady," he says politely, "I do not wish to embarrass you."

I can leave it at that, or I can push on. I think I'll never forgive myself if I don't push on....."It was my dream, O Mysterious Defender, why should I be embarrassed by it?" There is silence in the small room and I notice it has become a little warm.....he moves in the darkness and while I can not make out his features, I can tell that he is without his raiment, and I just know he is looking at me with that eyebrow raised. He stops before the edge of the bed, and the air between us is electric. "Perhaps I do not wish to embarrass myself, Lady," he says, and the urge to reach out and touch him is nearly overwhelming. I sense movement and I lean forward slightly, anticipating a gentle caress, but alas.....there is nothing. He sighs deeply, as though a heavy burden were upon him, and sits on the edge of the bed beside me. "Patience is a virtue, but it is also a curse. The question is whose patience will give out first," he says, and I wish to soothe him, but the weight of his words makes me stay my hand. I rise from the bed slowly, reflecting upon everything that has happened in my brief time here. "Your choice of words seems to indicate that my presence in this world is not an accident, but rather the consequence of design. Is it?" Maybe offset by my directness, he is silent, perhaps searching for the right reply. "You hesitate.....why?" I hear him draw breath slowly but still he does not give me an answer, and I realize that I'm getting a little angry.

"Yes," he whispers, "you were brought here, though I do not know by whom, nor why. It is my duty, my Oath, to protect and defend you, even unto my death. I do not regret that, but," he says and I turn back to him wishing there was more light. "But?" I say as I take a step toward the bed and he says softly, "I just can't do this. Two nights and already I can not bear to conceal myself. And yet, I must." My anger evaporates with his admission and I sit back down beside him. "I'm sorry for wanting-" he hushes me and says, "Ogee, it is not just what you want that makes this burden so heavy. It's what I want as well. But if I throw caution to the wind now the consequences could be dire." The tension in the room is replaced by an air of calm and I rise slowly. "I want you to get some sleep, my friend," I tell him, and he bravely attempts to protest. "Please? For me? I know you are strong, but even the strongest grow weary, and perhaps we will both have a better perspective in the new day's light." He either sees the logic in my statement or is too tired to argue, because he lays down and lets me cover him up. "If there is one disturbance, one thing....." I chuckle and promise him I'll wake him immediately if anything happens. He falls asleep quickly, leaving me to ponder the darkness by myself.

[OnionGroove]

Sitting here in the dark, listening to my protector sleep, I should be concentrating on him, I should be trying to figure him out. I promised to be patient and not peek, but I didn't swear I wouldn't try to guess. Instead, all I can think about right now is that dessicated cat back at the Apothacary. That is not Dead which can Eternal lie.....I of all Beings know the Truth of that, especially where cats are concerned. I am like a wayward bit of cork floating on a winding river in this world, and without my protector I am lost; if I am to find my way in it I must understand it, and to do that I must attempt to create a connection with it. Drawing in a deep breath, I lay myself down, face first, on the cold stone slab that forms the floor of our room. This I do with some trepidation for, as Azkaban told me once, each world affects us as we affect it, and the last thing I want to do is make an irreparable mistake. Slowing my breathing and heartbeat, I let my body cool to the temperature of the stone floor, then slowly let the slightest bit of my essence sink down into the stone and through it, to the soil beneath it.

I encounter no resistance.

In fact, I encounter nothing. The first time I did this in Gothador, it was a terrifying experience. There is so much going on just a few layers beneath the surface of that world that the UnderWay is as active as the plain of the Living is. Gradually, as I gave of myself to that world, It gave of itself to me, and I am now as connected to It as I was to the world of my birth. But this world.....this world feels almost like a gourd that's been hollowed out; if the Dead have ever made travelways they collapsed long ago. No Faery sidhes, no manner of Other life whatsoever besides the Sisters, and no aethereal heartbeat. There's no doubting or denying it; this planet is dying. The only thing holding her together is a very faint magick, one that's not even Native to her.

My head begins to throb and I know I have over-extended myself. I draw my essence back to me and roll over onto my back. My tummy is queezy and I'm too weak to get up, so I can only lay here prone. In my life past my Beloved would have healed me, but I am without that Grace now, that Blessing, that pleasure. So.....what am I supposed to do here? What can I do? Gather the cats and take them back to Gothador, or maybe find them another world? I'd laugh at the thought if I didn't feel so helpless. I feel my protector's hands and hear his voice, and I am like a sad little doll as he lifts me off the floor. Did he hear me weeping? He holds me to him and carries me back to the bed, and I can hear the fear in his voice as he wraps us both in the blankets, warming me. I can not tell him what I was doing because I lack the strength, and it really doesn't matter; when dawn comes, I will decide my course of action.....and hope it's the right one.

[OnionGroove]

He wakes me softly and tells me we need to be leaving, and I protest. I tell him I need something from the Apothacary, and of course we can not go back there, but maybe he knows someone who could obtain it for us.....and he chuckles at me. "Ogee, what could you possibly need from that awful place?" I sigh. "The cat," I tell him and he looks at me very closely. "But it made you cry, little one," he doesn't understand, I know, and I don't need him to, I just need him to humor me. "Please, it's important," I say, then tell him he can give some of our biscuits as payment. If sweet food is as hard to come by here as I think it is, someone is bound to accept it in return for a simple task. I'm right and it doesn't take him long to find a willing person, and while we wait for them to return we leasurely eat our simple breakfast, then make up the tiny bed. I nudge and bump him playfully as we do and he grabs me up and hugs me tightly, then sets me back on my feet. "I am glad you are feeling better than you were last night, Ogee. You scared me," he says and I squeeze his hand gently. "I'm sorry, but it was something I had to do. I need to find my path in this world, and to do that, I have to take certain risks." Bloody Hell, I need to learn not to say things like that to men that have sworn to protect me.....he doesn't like that, and even though I can see only his eyes, I know his expression beneath that black raiment. "Ogee," he says firmly, and whatever he's going to tell me is banished by the soft tap on our door. I give him two biscuits, now fresh and plumped up with precious drops of Sacred Water, and he answers the door. He thanks the person and then I hear the errand-runner thanking him profusely for the sweet food. He closes the door tightly and tells me that I have made someone very happy, and I tell him that it is my pleasure to do so. "Everyone should make at least one person happy every day. It's good for the Soul," I say, and he pauses for a moment. He asks, "do I make you happy?" I rise and touch his arm, saying, "yes, my friend, you do." He nods and hands me the jar, which I take gingerly, and says softly, "then my Soul rejoyces."

I take the jar into the center of the room and kneel on the stone floor. "Have we a scarf? I need a clean surface....." I reach up to pull off one of my head cloths but he gives me one of his, and I lay it out before me. My protector sits on the bed behind me and begins to whisper a spell, but I stop him with a gentle touch. "But, what if something happens, Ogee? What if something goes wrong?" I look back at him and smile, and touch his knee again. "My friend, you deal with the Living, I speak with the Dead. Besides, it's a cat. I've naught to fear with them." He nods then pats my hand, and I continue with my task. With the cloth ready, I whisper a greeting then carefully open the jar. Slowly I pour the contents out onto the cloth, then wait for a moment or two as the air infiltates the dessicated remains. I watch for the slightest movement in the matted fur and dried skin, hoping to hear the creak and crack of brittle bones, and.....there's nothing. "He's afraid you'll hurt him," I tell my protector, and I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder. "I promise I will not harm him," he says softly, and I glance back. "I know you won't, but you need to tell him," I whisper, and my protector leans forward and issues his promise to the sad mess laying before me. I see the slightest movement in the dust, hear the faintest snap, which tells me my departed associate is not afraid anymore. "Will you speak with me?" I ask softly and after a moment, I have my answer. There is a puff of motion, then the cat remakes himself into what he remembers he looked like. He is his own echo, an echo of a kitty Azkaban would describe as a 'russian blue' I think, and I would snuggle him if I could. There's less of him than I had guessed; both forepaws are gone, part of his head and most of his back are missing as well, so little motes of his own powdered self spin and jump to fill in those spaces. There is faint light in his empty eye-sockets, the last lingering spark of his essence, and he gazes up at me as though he can still see.

"Hello," I say, then add, "I am Orgarune.....do you have a name, friend?" He shifts back and forth on his ghost-dust paws and says, his reply barely above a whisper, "I Ruan. Been waitin long time." He makes a little sneezing sound, as though his own dust bothers him, and I can't help but giggle. "You've been waiting for me?" I ask, and he scootches closer to me. "Been waitin to talk." The light in his sockets dims a little, and I know we haven't much time. I tell him just to think to me, show me what he can, and when I close my eyes he gives me all he's been holding on to. I am surprised by how much he has retained, for a great deal of time has passed since he died, and each time the jar was opened more and more of his essence was taken away, and thus memories were lost. I feel the slightest weight on my legs, and when I open my eyes he is reaching up to touch my chin with what's left of his little nose. He's given me all he can, he's lingered for as long as possible, but before he leaves me I must ask one last question. "What would you have me do with you, my friend Ruan?" With his last bit of energy he shows me, and I promise him I'll do it. He sits back on the cloth, then with the softest of sighs the light in his sockets flickers out, and he is reduced to a swirl of dust, and bits of blue-gray fur. There is a tooth in the pile and I pick it out; I want a memento of him and I place it into the pouch that carries my last two finger bones from Zyra's right hand. Safe now in my tunic pocket I carefully wrap Ruan's remains in the black cloth, then tuck them into another pocket. I reseal the jar and rise, then turn to take the bag holding our biscuits, but my protector takes my hand. I look to him and find him gazing at me as if he's just seeing me for the first time, and his eyes are misty. "That poor thing loved you immediately," he says to me and I ask him how he knows. "I know what love looks like," he whispers, then asks me to sit beside him. "Ogee, it's time.....I have to tell you now....."

[OnionGroove]

He takes my hands and closes his eyes, asking me to please hear him out, and I feel a tremor in my heart. "I don't know where to begin," he says, then lets go of me. He reaches up and slowly pulls off his head scarfs, then meets my gaze.

I can't believe what I'm seeing. It can't be, and yet, it is.....he is extraordinarily remarkable; silky, obsidian-black hair cascades well passed his shoulders in ringlets, forming an almost lion's mane around a breath-takingly beautiful face. His goatee is imaculate, his features finely defined, his intence, almost feline eyes a blue several shades darker than my own, and his sharp brows impiriously arched in that oh-so-familiar fashion. Except for his eye color, creamy complexion and lack of horns, he is a heart-breaking twin of the one I love the most in all Existance.

Solanales.

Oh, my Beloved, my Lifemate.....how can this be? I can only stare at him in stunned silence, more than a little confused, my heart and Soul torn between wanting to be in his arms and wanting to know what kind of cruel trick has been played on me. I can't even ask him the questions on the tip of my tongue, my voice fails me; his brows knit suddenly and he drops his gaze. "I knew this would not be easy for you, Ogee, but I didn't know any other way to reveal myself. And I just couldn't keep this from you anymore." He shrugs slightly and adds, "I didn't think it was fair to either of us to do so." He touches my chin lightly and says, "your heart has been asking me why I care about you. This is why." He rises and moves to the table, turns and leans against the pushed-in chair, then meets my gaze again. "When you departed your homeworld, Solanales tried very hard to busy himself with taking care of the Clan and Family, and seeing to the Horses as they returned. But your House had so many defenders and caretakers, there was little to keep him occupied, and before long, his grief became so great that he began to look for you. He could not go back to a solitary life after entwining his with yours, and he could not take another over you, so the 'Widows Walk' was all there was left for him."

It is almost more than I can bear to hear, and to imagine, my Beloved so full of sorrow, but I have to know....."He traveled to every world he could enter, hoping to find you there, searching the Thread of Time for your appearance in each world, until finally he came here. An ally of his told him you were in Gothador, but that world would not allow him in; this world was the closest he could get." Something in that statement strikes me and I ask, "my Sol has an ally in Gothador?" He tells me, "yes, another Devil.....one close to you-" I have a feeling like fingers down my back, and suddenly some things make sense to me now. "Nyghtshayde," I say simply, and my protector nods. "Solanales saw you in the future of this world, in its Thread of Time, but most magick flows so badly here now that he had no context, no.....no idea how, when or why. Only that you would be here. But....." There is a very deep silence between us and I fidgit uncomfortably, and he takes in a deep breath. "He.....he couldn't wait for you. Traveling as he did takes a great toll on the traveler, and he had expended so much of himself that there was only one thing he could do."

Huge tears spill down my cheeks and I can't bear another word. I feel this reflection of my Beloved beside me, stroking my hair and drying my eyes and after several minutes, my protector continues. "He created me. He did not want you to be alone, and he wanted to be with you in whatever way he could. With what he had left of himself he created me, embued me with some of his intellect, a few of his memories, and gave me what instruction he could on the Arts, and how to look after you. He.....he said you would see the irony in the gift of a crafted companion.....he wouldn't tell me what that meant though." In spite of myself and my own grief, I laugh. Sol had meant Ogar, my first love, my first Mate.....I am suddenly bombarded with precious memories of those moments when Ogar suspected Sol had designs on me.....and my heart is lightened a little. I let the images of the most blissful times wash over me, and after some time, after I'm ready, I ask, "how did my Beloved pass?" My protector takes my hand and kisses it, then says, "when the time came and his strength gave out, he gave me his last breath, then gave himself to the fire."

He takes me into his arms and holds me while I weep, and I struggle to reconcile myself with the choices I've made. If I had remained in my homeworld, my Beloved would still be alive and he could have devoted that energy to creating a child with me, instead of this beautiful doppelgänger to watch over me. Still weeping, I ask, "did he give you a name?" He hugs me and says, "yes, he named me Solvang; he said you would know what that meant, that it would comfort you." I think of the field of yellow and white flowers we walked through in my dream, when I Saw the child I thought we could make....."Field of Sun," I whisper, then add, "it also means, in the Old Tongue, that there is fire all around me. It refers to passion and one's undying love for another and--" Wait.....Fire? Something tickles my mind and I ask Solvang softly, "what color were the flames? When my Beloved gave himself to the Fire, what color were the flames?" I straighten and look deeply into him. "Green," he says, "green and gold, as I recall, but I don't remember any heat, nor were there any remains left behind when the flames went out."

"Green and gold," I whisper, shaking my head. "I'm such a fool.....I should have known. Sol has not died, he lives yet still! He is in the Healing Fire, and the time may come when we may be rejoined." I can not express my joy and relief, and I resolve to strengthen myself with this knowledge, and the knowledge that my Beloved has gone to great lengths to keep me safe. I ask Solvang if we can linger here just a little longer, because I need a bit of time to take this all in. He tells me there is no harm in spending another hour or two here, for travel will be better once the heat of mid-day has passed, and we undertake to make the tiny bed comfortable for both of us to share. He lays with his back to the wall, I lay with my back against him, and he wraps his arm and raiment around me. "I am secure in your care," I tell him, and he holds me close to him. "I am strengthened by your trust," he says, and I think together we can face whatever challenges this world can give us.

[OnionGroove]

We've slept much longer than we probably should have, but seeing his expression when my eyes meet his, I don't think I mind. "Interesting dream," he says; "you peeked!" say I and he nods, an impish twinkle in his eyes. I can feel the heat rise in my cheeks and I know I'm blushing, which makes him grin. "Tell me about the bread you were making," he says, and I can't help myself. I giggle and blush more, like a little girl, and I sit up on the edge of the bed. "Well, it was a treat that my aunt Jarnsaxa made for us. It was onion bread; see, we grew sweet onions that had the most fragrant scent and the most delicate taste, and it lent itself beautifully to nearly any dish. Breakfast rolls, with ouan eggs and smoked bacon, baked river drake sandwiches, whatever you could think of. It was especially good with venison, but you could even make cookies with it." He sits up beside me and tells me that I've made him hungry, and I nudge him playfully. "No one but her hand-picked helpers were allowed in the kitchen with her when she cooked with the sweet onions because....." I fidgit, remembering that day....."the juice has a special quality. Sol and I thought she was joking, because she preferred having the kitchen to herself, and we loved her food so much there were always a few of us watching her. We thought it was just a way for her to discourage an audience, so he and I snuck in while she was baking onion bread and discovered very quickly that she was right. The juice of the sweet onion is a powerful aphrodisiac, one that only affects those deeply in love." I laugh in spite of myself and say, "Jarnsaxa forbade us to be anywhere near the kitchen after that."

Solvang's lovely eyes widen a bit and he laughs too. "You didn't!" I shrug and play with my raiment as I pull the headscarfs on. "No, but we started there. She yelled at us and the Kitchen Cats chased us out, and we wound up in the garden....." I shrug again and we both giggle. "So, that was when Solanales started calling you his sweet onion," he says softly, and my breath catches in my throat. "He told you--" Solvang rubs my back and tells me, "he spoke of you all the time. He never let me forget that I was to be the caretaker of his 'sweet onion'. I was to never let you wither....." My emotions get away from me and my eyes tear up; his eyes are misty as well and we hold each other, and I am reminded of how fortunate I am. "We had better go, we have quite a distance to cover and we need to find some provisions for our journey." I secure our biscuit bag and pick up the apothecary jar, and he asks me if I would like him to take care of it before we leave. I give it to him and he places it in the small firepit in the corner, then tells me to stand by the door. He whispers a spell I do not recognize, then an intence orange flame ignites around it and consumes the jar quickly, and pungent yellow smoke wafts up the chimney flue. He whispers another spell and tells me we should go, then takes my hand as we pass over the threshold into the late afternoon sun. "I have some gold and silver, we can buy some dried meat to sustain us until we reach our next destination," he says and I ask him if there is anyone with dried fruit or vegetables. "Not anymore," he sighs, "those things are hard to come by these days. Anything people are able to grow, they need for themselves." I understand but I am filled with a growing dispair, not just for the two of us, but for the whole world. I have so many questions I know may not have answers, and I doubt there's anything I can do to make a difference.

I ask him where our destination is, and he tells me he can't say yet as he picks through merchandise of the first merchant we come to. We move on to another merchant, then another, and finally find pemmican that will be more than just a nibble for us. He picks out quite a bit, and finds a rucksack as well, along with a few little things we may need. I find dried wild apples but Solvang hasn't enough for them, so I offer the merchant a couple of our biscuits. Her grey eyes sparkle and her wizened face lights up, and before I can freshen them for her, she's eaten then like crisps. "Dear lady," she says happily, "if you've another of those, you can take the rest of the dried apples!" I give her two more, because I don't think just one is fair for the remaining six apples, and as we leave she thanks us gratefully and wishes us a safe journey. "You see," Solvang says as we stow our supples, "I think that's why you were brought here. To spread happiness among those who have so little of it." I nudge him and chuckle, then whisper, "there has to more to it than just that. This planet is on the verge of death, my friend, I don't think a little happiness is going to save it." He pats my back and tells me I need to have more faith in myself, because someone more powerful than either of us obviously believes I can. "If they're that powerful, Solvang, then why can't they do it themselves?" He shakes his head, and I suddenly have the strangest feeling.....that sensation of fingers down my back again, and a dry breeze picks up loose dirt, blowing it into gentle swirls as we walk. That breeze carries more than just the dirt; there's a voice on it as well. "Cats and Dragons, Ogee. Cats and Dragons....." The voice isn't familiar but that phrase certainly is, and I look up at Solvang to see if he heard it as well. "What, little one?" he asks, a gentle smile on his lips, "shall I carry you?" I shake my head more vigourously than I mean to; he didn't hear it and I let slip a humorless laugh. "Not just yet, my protector," I say, though I think he might have to before too long.

[OnionGroove]

With the sun behind us our shadows stretch out thinly before us, as if they guide the way. "Now can you tell me where we're going?" Solvang nods and tells me, "if it still stands, Dowager Temple. It's been a very long time since I was last there, and this land has changed, but I've allies there, they will shelter us. They've been waiting to meet you." I glance up at him, a new set of questions running through my head. "How long have you been.....you know.....waiting for me?" He takes a deep breath and says, "fifty years." I'm speechless, and in the back of my mind I figure that means my Beloved was here a year ago by Gothador time. A year ago. Why couldn't I have found that damned ruined castle then? I look to him and see a single tear slide down his cheek, and he notices my gaze. He shakes his head slightly and tells me, "I was just thinking that if you had been brought here when my Maker was here, or if he had found his way to you, then I would never.....I would never have been given this Life. I would never have had this Honor." I take his hand and hold it tightly, and try to lighten his mood. "You think looking after me is an honor? I think it would be a chore." He's not laughing and I feel a little bad for trying to make light of it. "Ogee, before Solanales found me I was nothing. I was an Afterthought, barely more than a semi-sentient bit of light and magick."

He has my full attention and that makes him blush a little, but he continues. "Afterthoughts are born of the wishes and aspirations of powerful Mages, and usually they fade away with the passage of time. I, however, was born of the deepest desires of one of the most powerful of Mages, so I lingered. I lingered for at least an Age before Solanales found me and made thus." He scoops me up suddenly and I wrap my arms around him, and ask him how far he thinks he can carry me. "Beyond the farthest star, my Lady," he replies, and I kiss his cheek impulsively. "Now," he says, "what have I done to deserve such a privilege?" Resting my head on his shoulder I tell him, "that's just for being you. Just wait until you do something spectacular." He tells me I should not tease him so, and I insist I'm not teasing, though we both know I am. He doesn't have to do anything to win my affection; he has it already, and I give thanks again for having such a caretaker. Snuggling him just a little, I ask, "shall we stop for a while and have something to eat?" There is an outcropping of rocks not too far ahead of us and it looks rather welcoming. "If you would like, my Lady," he says, and I playfully tell him it can be our first picnic. He laughs and sets me gently on my feet, then grabs my hand and we run to the outcropping.

We reach the outcropping quickly and as we catch our breath, I see a bit of bone jutting out of the sand just outside of the entrance of the shallow cave. Solvang sees it too and takes my arm before I can go dig it up. "Ogee, please, I am not comforable disturbing it." I pat his chest lightly and tell him, "I understand, my protector, but what if someone is waiting for this person?" His brow furrows and I tell him I will just look, I won't touch them, and he makes me promise. As he begins setting up a comfortable spot for us, I kneel beside the bone. I can see the traces of other bones, just beneath the sand, and I think I see something shiny; it looks like a piece of red metal, trimmed with gold. It's so hard to keep myself from touching it, so I softly blow some of the sand away from the shiny thing. "Oh my.....Solvang, come see this!" He moves so quickly he's at my side almost before I can blink, and I watch his expression change suddenly. "Ogee! Dig it up, please dig it up!" I do and in a second we've cleaned it and he asks me to please dig the man out. There is not much of him left, we find arm bones, his sternum, his skull and a few finger bones. There's also a ring and I give it to Solvang. He's very moved and I ask him if he knew this person. "No, but I know he was a Knight," he tells me and before I can say anything, I feel a very soft touch, like a butterfly's wings, on my arm.....

[OnionGroove]

Tiny whorls of dust are stirred by a gentle gust of wind, and I am compelled to dig where they appear. I find another, smaller, ring; I find a few more bones, a finely embroidered pouch containing several gold coins, and another pouch. The dust settles and as we look at our findings, we hear the faintest of voices. "Please, Lady and Lord, help me....." I look to Solvang and he asks, "how may we help you Sir Knight?" A puff of air blows sand up and gives us the impression of a face before us. "I am Sir Gwythen, Knight of Säuvon Queen of Hauntsforth. I carry a message to King Edreath; she accepts his conditions for peace....." The dust falls for a moment then reassembles, and Sir Gwythen continues. "I have failed.....but if you could take the message to him--" Solvang sighs and looks at the long pouch he holds, then looks first to me, and in turn to the apparition. "Sir Gwythen, I am very sorry to tell you, but the King and Queen both died some time before I was made, and that's been fifty years now. Hauntsforth lays in ruin." There is a sound akin to a sob, and Sir Gwythen laments, "then all is lost. My failure will be the death of all....." I glance at Solvang then back to our Knight. "Good Sir, please do not dispair. I was brought here by some power, perhaps it is my task to help you in some way." My protector rubs my back and I turn to him. "Well, isn't it possible? Maybe this is what I'm supposed to do. And even if it isn't exactly why I'm here, I want to help."

There is a ripple in the sandy apparition and I think Sir Gwythen is smiling. "Your Lady is quite brave, Good Sir," he says, then tells us, "please, take these paltry things of mine; make good use of my gold. As for the rings, keep them, but I ask that you wear them only if there is true love between you, for the small ring belonged to my good Lady wife. As for my badge, please give it to one of my House; if none are still among the Living, please keep it." This we promise the poor dead Knight, and Solvang promises to give his bones a proper burial place. Our Oaths accepted, the dust settles and with a gentle sigh, Sir Gwythen at last goes to his Rest. But where is that, in this world? What haven do the Dead have here? As I watch my protector gather up the Knight's remains, I have the feeling I will have a chance to ask. That done, we return to the task of making up a comfortable spot to relax for a little while and have something to eat. The shallow cave is cool, and I think we could sleep here, but I know that our best traveling will likely be once the sun has set. We sit together on one of his spread-out scarfs and we open up our packs, taking out a bit of our provisions. He opens one of the wrapped pemmican and splits it with me, and I give him one of the dried wild apples, and a biscuit after freshening it for him.

We eat our small meal and afterward I offer him some of my Sacred Water. "No, my Lady, I have enough from the biscuits you share with me," he says, and I kiss his chin lightly. "So you say, my protector, but if I think you grow thirsty, I shall make you drink." He laughs and asks me how I think I will accomplish such a feat, but I don't answer right away. I stiffle my giggle and tell him simply, "if I tell you it will spoil the surprise." He laughs again and smiles, and I lean back against him. I take the small ring out of my pocket and examine it carefully; it's a beautiful thing, crafted from yellow gold, inlaid with the most beautiful red gold flower. I kiss the ring and look up at Solvang; carefully I slip the ring on my middle finger and I am delighted that it fits. His eyes widen and glitter and he seems astonished. "Ogee.....do you.....really?" Sitting up, I meet those eyes and lay my hands on his. "I would not have put the ring on if it were not so. However," I say, straightening and turning the ring on my finger, "I will not have anyone against their will. Once before a man was bound to me before he had the ability to accept the bonding. I gave him the choice, to stay with me or go live for himself, and so I give you the same choice." He looks at my hand, then back up at me. "But Solanales--" I smile and say, "is wiser than one can imagine. He had to know that I would give you the same choice I gave Ogar."

I sigh and harden myself as best I can then tell him, "I release you from the Oath that Solanales evoked from you, as is my right. Solanales gave you a life, I say you are free to live it as you choose. If you go, I will bear you no ill will, my friend, for it is your choice alone."

[OnionGroove]

"Free to live it as I choose," he echoes, then sighs and takes my hands. He kisses them in turn and smiles at the beautiful ring. "Ogee....." I bite my lip and he caresses my chin. "I know that you love, for I feel the strength of it, but it is not for me that your heart smoulders; it is for Solanales, and I was made in his image. I was made to protect you, to look after and comfort you, not to usurp my Maker in your heart." He is right, of course, and I am almost ashamed of myself, but before I can say or do anything he pulls me to him and wraps me in his arms. "Do not think I do not adore you, because I do and always have, since Solanales first gave me images and memories of you. But I can not step into his place." He lets me set up and I meet his gaze directly. "You are very noble, do you know that?" He chuckles and takes his ring out, and compares its design to mine. "Noble? Perhaps. I told you that it is an honor for me to take care of you, and I mean that. I think of myself as a Knight sworn to protect the precious bride of his King. Do you see? There is a fine line that I can not cross, liberties I will not take, no matter how much I may wish to."

I laugh loudly and kiss his forehead. "I knew that was in there somewhere!" He laughs as well, I think in spite of himself, and I thank him for his honesty and tell him again that he is a very noble man. He grows serious again, as do I, and he gazes at me steadily. He says, "Ogee, I choose to swear again my Oath to Solanales, as is my right, and I choose to swear my Oath to you. Let us say that we have great affection for each other, and take comfort in each other's company." I can't argue with his wisdom, and I remind myself that he's had five decades to live his life as he's seen fit. I accept his Oaths and as he slides Sir Gwythen's ring onto his middle finger, I am happy. The sun has set and I think we are settled for the night; if we set off first thing in the morning, I believe we will make good time with our hearts light. But Solvang tells me that we should be on our way while it's cool, and that if he is not mistaken, Dowager Temple is not too far away. "It is not much now, but it is safe shelter, and we can sleep safely there," he says, so we break our camp and set off.

It is very nice out, and the stars are just incredible, even more so than in Gothador. I am.....joyous, and I challenge him to a race, a race to the dead tree I see a head of us. He agrees and laughing, tells me to run. I look at him for a moment and say, "you're up to something, I know you are....." He tells me again to run so I do, and it feels good. The breeze in my hair and my heart thundering, and suddenly I hear Solvang behind me. He grabs up my hand and I quicken my pace, and laughing so loudly we reach the tree together. "See," he says panting, "we've both won....." We lean against the tree and catch our breath, so while he's distracted I tap my crystal ring to his forehead. I nudge him and tell him, "now, you've had your drink." He straightens and hugs me to him quickly, and tells me I'm a 'little minx'. As we start off again he asks me, "shall I carry you again, little minx?" I giggle, and I think I'll tell him yes, but a slight ripple in the sand beneath us draws my attention. A few feet a head of us the ripple becomes almost a wave, and I can not believe.....some creature I have never seen the likes of pulls itself up out of the sand, followed by.....a wagon.

I look up at Solvang and his smile is wider than I have ever seen. "This is wondrous!" He nearly shouts as he lifts me up and walks quickly to the wagon. "Saysha," I cry and she happily takes me from him, and sets me beside her on the wagon bench. Solvang climbs up and sits beside me and Saysha says, "you two will take forever to reach the Temple at this rate," and we snicker between us. "How did you know-" she pats my shoulder and asks, "well, where else would your Protector be taking you? It's the safest place in this world for a Holy Woman." She winks and smiles and kisses my cheek, then asks me if we have had anything substantial to eat. We tell her what we've had and she says, "well then, you should welcome what I have in the back for you. Eat and drink your fill, then sleep as you may wish, for Fatou is slow in her great age." The creature's ears flicker at the sound of her name, and I ask Saysha what she is. "She is a kamell, the oldest of her kind, and one of the last of them, now." She hugs me and tells us to go eat and relax, and to be free of care.

[OnionGroove]

I do not know where the food and juice comes from, and I won't ask; I learned long ago one should not question such gifts in times like these. Solvang tells me the fruit are from a small, prickly plant called 'cactus', and only the Sisters and some of the Brothers know where they grow now. The meat is a rare delicacy, and it comes from a small furry creature called a 'rabbit'. I laugh at him and crawl over the incredibly soft cushions to his side and sit close to him. "My protector, I know rabbits, we have them on my world. I've had the flesh before." He nods and offers me piece of sun roasted meat, saying, "not, I think, like this." I take a small bite and the flavor is just incredible. "See," says he, "the food they eat gives their flesh a certain flavor, but that flavor is only fully brought out when it is sun-roasted." He savors it with me and adds, "you must have some dried. It makes marvellous pemmican." He tells me to try some fruit and meat together, then quickly drink some juice; I do and the taste is just so incredible I could melt. It's almost as good as the smoked river drake from home, and OH! I wish I could have them together.

We do as Saysha said and have our fill, then after wrapping the food and drink and safely stowing it, we make a bed and settle down to sleep. I think of my feelings and of Solvang's words, and I know that he is right, but I know too that I care very much for him. As strange or ironic as it seems, it makes me realize how deeply I still love Solanales, how much I need him, and how terribly I miss him. I think I understand now why I am so drawn to the Devils I found myself with once I arrived in Gothador, especially Nyghtshayde. They remind me so very much of the Devils in my Clan; their strength and magicks, their appetites and humor, and their kindness. Solvang may not be a Devil, but he could certainly stand well among them. My mind is so full and busy that I can't sleep; I feel so much more connected to this world now and I don't know why.....and I feel charged with energy. I snuggle up against Solvang and nip his ear.....I didn't mean to but I couldn't help myself, and he nips me back. "Now," he whispers, "you stop that, little minx. You could temp me easily, and I told you I will not take those liberties," he speaks so firmly but there is something akin to hunger in his voice, and I feel as though I'm on fire.

"Right, right.....we musn't cross that line," I whisper as I settle against him and try very hard not to giggle. "You hush now," he tells me, nipping my ear again, then adds, "life is full of challenges, and we must be strong." I quiet down and he settles himself with his arms around me, and sleep comes soon for him. The sounds of his heart and his breathing, along with the gentle motion of the wagon, gradually lull me to a light slumber. Visions dance behind my eyes and I can not be certain if they are dreams, or Sight.....

An armored horseman rides away from a great castle, on a mission with a message. In a tower behind him is a beautiful Lady, heavy with child and surrounded by her family. She watches the horseman until she can see him no more, then silently weeps; she turns from the window and to her sisters' arms as they lead her away. A Matron in the doorway waits to recieve her, but she does not make it to the door; her water comes and she clutches her belly. Her sisters cry, for there is red in her water. They help her to the bed and the Matron calls for the King's Witch, but the child will not wait. By the time the Witch and her Familiar arrive the baby's head is clearly visible and the Lady's sisters are struggling to help him. The Witch sets about her Sacred Work immediately, and the Lady is soothed by her ministration, but the Familiar meows plainitvely that there is distress. The baby seems to be holding on to something, but soon is free and is handed to the Matron for cleaning and clensing. The baby, a boy, is hale and healthy, but the Familiar insists there is distress. In a moment's time the Witch gasps with shock as she delivers the Lady of a second child, a girl, small and frail. There is much bleeding and the Witch can not Bless the girl; she and the Familiar must fight to stop the crimson river, but it will not be dammed. The Matron and the Lady's sisters try to help the girl breathe, but she is not 'right', and lives but a moment more. As she passess the boy begins to wail, high and keening, and his elder aunt holds his sister and weeps. The boy's wails fill the tower, and handmaidens of the Queen gather to help in any way they can, for the Lady is beloved of them. For an hour they do their best to save her, but alas the Lady can not hold on. Before she passes the boy is taken to the nursery; the Familiar follows, and will not leave him even when her Mistress calls. The Lady is tended to and the Matron reports to the King, who is heartsick with the news. Lady Anor was dear to him, as like a daughter, her husband his favorite Knight. The King blames himself for allowing the Lady's husband to go on the Queen's errand; he believes if her husband had been home he could have saved his wife, for he has Healer's Hands, so rare in men nowadays. The Queen too is griefstricken, and orders a special dispensation for the boy's care until his father returns. The King's Witch is inconsolable; she has never lost any mother, nor infant, and this day she has lost two precious lives. She swathes the baby girl in a Sleeper's Clothes, then places her in her mother's still arms. As she removes her own cloak to cover the Lady and her child, she notices something unusual about the baby's right hand. It looks like someone had been holding her hand for a very long time, and she knows, dear Goddess, she knows what the boy was holding on to. She sits beside the Lady and names the girl Alianor, "little Anor", and softly weeps until the Matron fetches her. When the Witch comes to the nursery, she finds her Familiar curled around the boy, purring loudly, and the boy's tiny left hand closed on the Familiar's ringed tail. She gives the boy his sister's Blessing, and intrusts her Familiar to be his Guardian. He is named Jocelyn, in honor of his father's father, who had been a great Mage, and the Matron says they should give the boy his mother's ring as a keepsake. But, the handmaidens say, Lady Anor had dreams that she would not see her beloved husband again, so before he departed she gave to him the ring she'd worn since their betrothal, so that he would always have a reminder of her. Their son would be the true reminder, the Witch says, but none of them could know that his father would never come home.....

My tears wake Solvang and he wipes them away gently, whispering, "my Lady, I know you miss your Beloved, but-" I sit up and tell him, "I do, but that's not-" I shake my head and tell him that I'll be alright. He sits up as well and moves to my side, saying, "Ogee, how can I help you feel better if I do not know what hurts you?" I take his hand and kiss it, and caress his ring. "Sir Gwythen's wife died before he did, my protector," I say quietly, and he asks me how I know. "I have a special Sight, but that doesn't fully account for what I Saw, not in this world. The only thing I can think of is the ring helped me. Her ring. Maybe the Crystal ring as well, they are both of this world, and embued as well, so....." He asks me what I Saw and with a heavy heart I tell him everything. "If Jocelyn lives, we need to find him," I say and Solvang sighs deeply. "Jocelyn MacGwythen might have gone searching for his father, or might have gone seeking a better life in another land or Regency, for by the time Solanales arrived and made me, Hauntsforth was virtually deserted. There's precious little left of it." My heart won't let this go; I feel in some way that Jocelyn is like my brother in sorrow. We were both deprived of our parents by vicious twists of Fate.

"Maybe there's something still in Hauntsforth that can give us some clue--" he kisses me lightly on my forehead and chuckles softly at me. "Darling Ogee, I was made in Hauntsforth, I know there's not much left." I sigh and nearly cry with frustration, because anger would not do me any good, and he hugs me to him. "Just sit here with me, little one, until we reach the Temple. Let's just sit here, and maybe have a little snack."

[OnionGroove]

Saysha announces we've arrived at the Temple, with the dawn, and Solvang and I laugh. Our "snack" seems to have gotten the better of us (or else our conversation did), and we've lost track of time. Fatou brays loudly and I have the sense that she is very happy. I hear voices outside of our wagon, voices raised in joy, and in moments Solvang and I are being helped out of the wagon, and I am engulfed by the most wondrous people. They hug me and kiss my face as though I am some long-missed relative, and before I know it I am lifted and carried to the Temple, where an unbelievably tall woman blesses me. The chamber I am carried into is huge and filled with sunlight, and I am carried to what I feel has been used as some kind of sacred seat. The stone is worn away to fit a body as lithe as mine, and my senses tingle with the lingering magick from perhaps centuries of use. The floor is covered with the most beautiful tiles, and the walls are decorated with carvings and painted images that have begun to fade. There is a section of wall that is open to a flower garden; I can just barely glimpse the essence of the flowers that had grown there, when water was plentiful, and I know they had been nurtured with magick. It is that lingering magick that maintains the "ghosts" of the garden.

This is a place of happiness, despite the harshness of the world outside.

Before the ornate archway that opens the chamber to the garden is an elevated platform that appears to be a fountain.....I study the floor and see there are channels in it, where it meets the walls, and I don't need to investigate to know the channels lead outside. I relax and close my eyes, lean back in the seat, and let myself open up to the chamber. I feel as if I belong here, in this place, and I realize that this is the chamber of the Dowager herself, where she gave her orations, where she took in Spiritual sojurners and other travelers, offered sanctuary to those in need, and blessings to the Innocent. I can See here, almost as clearly as I could back in my homeplace, and there are couples, long dead now, standing before the fountain, receiving her blessings at their hand-fastings. Babies were conceived in the garden in times of festival, and babies were born here when women had nowhere safe to go. Old sojurners breathed their last here, when their bodies could carry them no further, and were granted rest in the sacred ground behind the garden. And at last I see the chamber empty, with the living fountain and its feline guardians only, Sacred Water trickling out of it and across the lovely tiles, into the channels and into the world outside. Embuing it with Life.....

This Temple was at one point one of the most important places on the planet. But when the Goddess was betrayed and forsaken, that changed, and the world began to die.

"When did the fountain die?" I know my question is an uncomfortable one, but I can not put things together if I don't ask. "When the Dowager died," a wide-eyed girl tells me. She's far more than a mere girl, I can tell, and she takes my right hand, since Solvang holds my left. "Who was the Dowager? I mean, where did she come from, who were her parents? How--" Solvang chuckles and kisses my hand, saying, "Ogee, the Dowager was a Daughter of the Goddess." I feel suddenly very silly, but the tall woman who blessed me tells me that I had no way of knowing, so there is no shame in my ignorance. "Our Benefactress was the eldest of the Goddess' four children. Following her were her two brothers, twins, Anak Zharptisa and Anak Argestus, then her sister, Pinatuwaway. All life on this world, all good things on this world, were created by them. From the Dowager and Pinatuwaway all Dragons came." The words, spoken softly, have more power than imagined, and I feel old emotions stir in my heart. "See," the girl says to me, pointing to the wall above me, and I turn to gaze at the mural.

The Dowager herself was a Dragon, yet in my Vision, I saw.....I am suddenly dizzy.....I saw her in her Human guise.

I think I need to sit back down, or better yet, lay down, and Solvang rises to steady me. "Ogee, what do you wish to do?" I don't know, I feel confused, as though I've been upside-down and have suddenly righted. I stand there a few moments more, the looks of concern of those around me giving me comfort. I need to do something, I need to.....I walk slowly, Solvang at my side, to the fountain, and I feel I need to do something. The stones are beautiful, like everything else here, and I have the impression that they are exceedingly ancient. I rest my hands on the two large stones at the top of the fountain and I find that they're warm. My hands tingle slightly, for the stones are full of magick, and I step up, to where offerings were once made to the Life-Energy of the Temple. I sense that Sojourners would place flowers they'd brought with them into the Sacred Water, and sometimes seeds, and the Water would wisk those offerings away to where they were most needed. With a fluid gesture I extend my right hand over the mouth of the fountain, and without thinking tap my hand three times. Three drops of my own Sacred Water fall into the fountain's mouth from my ring, and I feel very lightheaded.

Solvang catches me and lifts me, and I lay my head against his chest. I hear whispers of astonishment from the people around us, and they both follow and guide Solvang to a small resting chamber where I can lay down.

[OnionGroove]

I wake to the wonderful sensation of Solvang's hands on my feet. He's pulled off my boots and I feel him kneeding my feet, rubbing lotion into them, sliding his fingers playfully between my toes, making me laugh.

"Now Ogee," he says softly, "if you laugh too much, you may encourage me....." I look down and our eyes meet; his glow impishly and I feel myself blush. "Encourage you to do what?" I try not to giggle, but I can't help myself. "To take some of those liberties I refered to earlier," he says, and I pull myself up. "Oh really?" He nods and I reach out and touch him gently, then ask, "the little ones that Solanales could forgive you for?" He grins for a second then tries to be serious. "No, no. The ones he'd hunt me until the end of Time for. The really good ones." I lean forward and take his hand, and he sets the lotion aside. He climbs up onto the bed and lays down beside me, and we gaze deeply into each other. There's something.....a flicker of anxiety, maybe, and he sighs suddenly. "Solvang, is there something you want to tell me?" He rests his hand on my chest, over my heart, and kisses me softly. "Yes, I just don't know where to begin." I place my hand on his and smile slightly, then tell him, "maybe at the begining?"

He kisses me again and I pull him into my arms, but before I can enourage him further, I hear excited voices calling for me. I want to ignore them, I want to have him, but.....the pull to the people of the Temple is strong. He pulls away from me and lets me up, and as three or four of them come to the door, Solvang rises from the bed and helps me up. He leads me to them and tells me he loves me, but before I can respond I am whisked away by the overjoyed folk. As we move swiftly to the grand chamber I realize the tiles are wet. We reach our destination and I find it filled with Sojourners rejoycing, rejoycing as the fountain spits and sputters, as beautiful, cool, crisp, clean and sweet Sacred Water issues forth from it once again. "You did it!" The little girl cheers and grips my hand, "I knew you could!" She pulls me forward to the fountain and as Sojourners gather around me, I am simply awestruck. I did this? I look at my Crystal Ring and she's glowing, pulsing and shimmering like a little live thing. I hear whispers around me from the gathering crowd, proclaiming me a Child of the Dowager, and I want to tell them that's impossible, but my mouth can't form the words.

The tall Priestess is telling them to wet their faces and to drink their fill, and to be glad of heart for the Life-Energy has returned to the Temple. I move through them to the garden archway and discover the flowers bursting up from the parched soil as the Water reaches them. I remember the promise I made to my little Dead dust cat, and I carefully pull the cloth I wrapped him in from my tunic, then scatter him over the blooming garden. I linger for a moment, but my attention is drawn away from the beauty by the sound of soft weeping. I follow it, and it leads me to the resting place for the Blessed Dead. A Sojourner has died and I want to comfort them if I can, but as I round the corner of the garden wall I see my friend Saysha, weeping over the supine Fatou.

My heart hurts and my hands tremble; she was alive and vibrant just a few short hours ago.....I wanted to talk to her, learn about her kind in her own words, I wanted.....my own tears fall and I go to Saysha, kneel by her side, and she tells me that she was afraid of this. Fatou had wandered away from the wagon as soon as she was unhitched, and with the excitement of my arrival Saysha had not worried about it. After Solvang had carried me away to rest, she went looking for Fatou, and found her here. The old wise kamell had known her Time was near, and had chosen her place before Saysha reached her. I lean forward and rest my head on her still side, and listen to the ticks and creaks of her great body settling. Her heart ceased its beat probably just before I found them, and her Voice still lingers. She speaks to me and though I do not understand her language, I understand her meaning, and I tell Saysha that Fatou loved her very much. How long had this lady walked this world, I wonder, but do not ask. Soft voices come from behind us and I know the Priestesses of the Temple have come to assist Fatou in her Passage, and the Ladies are followed by others.

They all gather around us and kneel in the Blessed soil, and all lay their hands upon her. The Priestesses begin to sing, and the other folk talk to Fatou; the elder Soujourners recall her from their past meetings, the younger ones tell her how noble she is. I sit up, my heart full of warmth and my eyes full of tears, and add my words to theirs. I tell Fatou how glad I am that I met her, and that I wish I could have learned her History, then I comfort Saysha in her grief. I see a light, just a small one, appear on Fatou's head; the tall Priestess reaches out to it and it grows quickly. It changes shape and suddenly seems like a tiny star, and I know this is the kamell's Soul. I've never actually seen a Soul in its pure form, and I have to fight the urge to touch it. Though the Priestesses are singing her upwards, she lingers as if she knows my wish, and I slowly extend my hand to her. There is a sharp spark on my finger, and I laugh loudly as I am struck with the image of Fatou as a baby, wobbly knees and all, trying to follow her mother to nurse. I thank her, then she follows the Song and we all watch her as she drifts upwards away from us, shining brighter as she goes.

All that is left now is our own grief, and covering her body with the Blessed soil. The tall Priestess helps me up, though I want to stay and help, and the other Ladies minister to Saysha. My new friend tells me her name is Eglayne, and that I should have something to eat. So much essence I have given out, she says, that I must replentish myself, and she leads me back into the Temple, the cool Water washing our feet as we walk. She tells me she senses that I am burdened by something, and I tell her that the folk here believe I am a Child of the Dowager, but they are mistaken. "It's not possible," I tell her, and Eglayne smiles softly. "But you are," she says, "you must be, else you would not be here." I want to argue but I can't; I can't be certain that I wasn't brought here for exactly this. As we walk down the hallway we pass the chamber I had been resting in, and I notice that it's empty. As I turn to go in Eglayne releases me and asks if I would like to sleep again before taking sustainance, and I can only nod.

Words fail me and she leaves me to rest, but I think I'll not sleep again for some time. On the bed is Sir Gwythen's ring, and in the corner are our packs just as they were left. Part of me wants to rush through the Temple searching for Solvang, but I know in my heart that he's gone. He hasn't abandoned me, that I know; he has fulfilled the purpose for which my Beloved had created him for. He got me safely to the Temple. That old ache of loneliness creeps back into me, and I struggle not to be its prisoner again. I struggle too to swallow my bitter trears but they win out, and I sit down hard on the bed, my hand slowly taking up that ring. I clench it tightly and fight to think about what I'm going to do now, but--I am suddenly distracted. From behind me is the soft crackle and whish of a newly-lit fire, and the small chamber is bathed in the light of Solanales' green flame.

[OnionGroove]

"Ogee," he whispers, and my heart seems to stop at the sound of the voice I have so badly missed, but I do not turn to look. "Is this your doing?" My body trembles and my voice cracks as I ask this, afraid of what his answer will be. The silence is painful, but at last he says, "Yes. It was not my intention, but it is my doing all the same." I face him, and my breath catches in my throat. It seems like an eternity since I saw him last, since I held him last, since I kissed him last.....and I ache because we can not touch now.

It is a bittersweet reunion.

His mane is much longer than it was when we parted, and at least a foot and a half, nearly two feet of it is in a thick braid that runs down his back. Its color seems lighter now, but it is difficult to tell because the green flame distorts his appearance slightly. His red, gold and black robes, which he donned shortly before I left my home world, are rendered into strange tones by the flame, but he looks no less regal. He is still the most beautiful man I have ever beheld, but right now, he has never looked more sad. "My Beloved, you know that I would never deprive you of comfort, or.....love, but I....." He draws closer to me and the flame takes notice of me. There is no heat, but the scent of roses eminates from it, and I take comfort in it. "I miscalculated." We gaze at each other for a long moment, the urge to embrace nearly overwealming, and he continues. "Solvang was supposed to survive until I arrived here healed and healthy. You and I were to decide his fate together, but I was wrong about so many things. I expected to be healed by now," he frowns and shrugs slightly. "I expected to be able to take care of you when I arrived. But now," he sits down on the stone bench beside the bed and sighs, "I can do nothing."

Before I can refute his statement, the girl appears in the doorway and, seeing Solanales engulfed in the Healing Fire, promptly cries out. "Black Morgan!" Sol and I rise and she runs from us, shouting, "Black Morgan! Black Morgan has come!" I look up at my Beloved and chuckle. "Black Morgan, eh?" I appraise him from the crown of his head to the tip of his feet, noticing but ignoring that sneaky tail of his, and tell him, "it suits you." We exit the room as the Temple folk are gathering, and I am surprised to discover how many of them know about this 'Black Morgan'. "You know," I tell him as we make our way to the Fountain Chamber, "I don't mind being a player in someone else's game, I just wish I had a better grasp of the game." He raises a hand to touch me, but stops and looks at that hand, then thinks better of the touch. He doesn't need to tell me that though it is a healing flame, it's still flame, and would consume me just as natural fire would. "We'll have to find a way around that, you know," I mumble and he laughs softly.

I notice the Water and the Flame around his boots, the two ancient enemies having little hissy fits and throwing up steam. The irony brings a smile to my lips; both healers in their own right, they are still at opposite ends of Nature. Eglayne's voice disturbs my train of thought and commands the attention of all, and all eyes fall upon her when she speaks. "The first part of The Prophecy is fulfilled. The Squire has brought The Queen to the Temple and She has set the Temple right, and the King has arrived to claim her." I am hesitant to speak but I must, and I pray that offend no one with my ignorance. "Priestess," I begin carefully, "I was not born of this world and I am no Queen, is it not possible that I am simply.....at the right place at the right time?" A hush falls around Sol and I and I feel suddenly very cold. "Ogee!" Sol's whisper is a sharp, repremanding one, and realize he knows more about what is going on than I think. "Do you doubt the Dowager's Prophecy?" Eglayne asks and I don't know what to say; words fail me once more and my tongue feels like so much dead leather. "On the hour of her death, the Dowager gave The Prophecy down to her Scribe, and this I know is true. The Dowager was my Grandmother, and my brother her Scribe. I was witness to the writing, my own ears heard her words as she spoke them. They are engraved upon my Heart."

I am ashamed and my gaze drops to my feet, and I make no effort to hide my sudden tears. "Lady Eglayne," Sol says respectfully, "please forgive my Lifemate, she means no disrespect. She simply underestimates herself quite often. I think it's one of her finer qualities, actually, for she sees herself as no better than anyone else." I look up at him only to see him gazing lovingly down at me, and for a moment, I have a sense of our old connection. "She is Queen, or rather, she was; I see she has uncrowned herself." I am stung by the trace of disappointment in Sol's voice, and equally stung by the memory of my own actions, and the pain I caused myself. Shortly after my arrival in Gothador, I dug the two Crowning Stones out of my forehead. First the red stone that marked me as Steward of my Clan's land, then the gold stone that proclaimed me Queen. I kept only the blue stone bestowed upon me by my own Beloved, and I wear it with the deepest pride. Eglayne comes to my side and as if she knows my hurt she takes me into her arms. When she releases me she says, "Crowned or not, she is still the Queen, and you the King, and being who you both are you know The Prophecy must not be denied."

"Eglayne," I say softly, "why was the little one calling Sol 'Black Morgan'?" She looks about the chamber at the gathered folk, and more than one tell me almost in unison that he is King Morgan the Black. I look up at him then back to Eglayne, then back to Sol again. He raises that eyebrow and gives me his half-grin, then promises to explain later. I ask Eglayne if that is what he is called in The Prophesy, and she tells me yes, then I ask her what I am called. She says, "you are known by two names, Lady. The Dowager calls you the White Queen, as he is the Black King, and she calls you Orgarune." As her words sink in the tiles feel suddenly slick, and I find myself sitting in the Water. One of the younger Priestesses rushes to help me up but I tell her I just want to sit for a little while and think. So the Dowager, who died long before I left the world of my birth, called me by name in her Prophesy and fortold my arrival here. And my Beloved is the Black King.....Sol sits down in the Water beside me and we both laugh at the resulting steam. "Black King," I whisper, and he chuckles. "Well, I am The Devil," he says with that expression I so love, and I retort, "yes, you are. There's no doubt about that." I notice the little girl looking at Sol with wide eyes. "The Devil?" Eglayne reaches out to her and takes her by the hand, a knowing smile coming to her and I am comforted. As she leads the little one away I hear her say, "someday Muriel, you will understand. You will understand, and rejoyce."

[OnionGroove]

"So," I begin as the Temple folk return quietly to their sleeping places, "where do you want to start?" Sol sighs and leans back against the wall, and I do the same. "I want to start by reacquainting myself with my Beloved and renewing our Life-Bond. That's where I want to start." I have to restrain myself from touching him, from raising up to kiss him. I tell him that I understand, and I have the same desire. "Ogee, for you it's been what.....three years? For me, it's been nearly two hundred. I tried entering Gothador as soon as I learned that was where you were, but I am unable to gain entrance there. I had traveled so far that I could not return home, I came back here because I knew I would be safe while I rested and reorganized myself. And at least here, I was closer to you." We gaze at each other for a long time, the silence and space between us full of emotion. At last he says, "I just did not realize how badly drained I was. I had been here two, maybe three days when I had a Sight of you here, in this world's future, and I began making plans. I discovered there was no way.....I--" He pauses and shakes his head and I want to wrap him in my arms, "--I looked into my Self and realized just how depleted I was. I had a choice; I could wait for you naturally and risk dying, or I could create a Guardian for you and give myself to the Healing Fire. I gauged the scale of Time between this world and Gothador, and chose the latter option."

The atmosphere is heavy and I can not bear it; there must be joy between us in this place, so I teasingly ask him about "Black Morgan". He shakes his head first, then laughs in spite of himself. "I was playing. I was barely more than an imp, really. Well, alright, I was a young Devil, and to be honest, I was running from a situation I could do nothing about. Understand, please, that this was.....forever ago," he meets my gaze, and I can feel him trying to impress upon me the importance of something, but the Healing Fire makes even that difficult. "Your great grandmother Melior had not yet become a War Queen, that's how long ago this was. My family was falling apart, really. My parents were at odds, my siblings were fighting, and I couldn't stomach it. I had tried secluding myself with Laevatinn on that little island of his, but.....even there my family's conflict troubled me. I found a Weftway that led here, quite by accident." His countanance softens and I want to burn this image of him in my mind. "I discovered a nearly perfect world, one so very close to ours, Ogee, that I felt as if I had merely journied to another continent. I felt at home. Now, remember, I was young, and as such, I was wanting to play. I learned the habits of the Humans here very quickly, for they were very much like those of our home, and soon I had begun interacting. I styled myself as a traveling minstral, for I was often taken by musical whims, and eventually I forund myself in a Royal Court."

I giggle and nearly forget that damned flame, and I must pull my hand back quickly. I have an image of my Beloved in the garb of a Court musician, and I feign a swoon. He splashes me playfully and admonishes me to listen. "Keep in mind, please, that this was long before I had glimpsed you in the Thread of Time; I didn't even know what the Thread of Time was then. Anyway, I had become very popular with the Ladies of the Court, but because I was an Artisan, it was accepted, and even encouraged. Though, it wouldn't have been if the King had known what was afoot." He traces the ornate pattern on a floortile, making spouts of steam as he does. "You were having an affair with the Queen???" He half shrugs and smiles slightly, as if he is embarrassed, or afraid of hurting me. I laugh and he relaxes, takes a deep breath and nods. "The King was old and ill, and had never been very kind to her, but as he aged he became more harsh. She was not a young woman either, but not so used-up as he; she was still a vibrant person, still wanting to live. At first, I was reluctant to return her affection, but after I witnessed his cruelty to her.....I just could not let it stand. He was dying and determined to make her just as miserable as he was. They were arguing, she wished to bring her sister and nephew to the Castle because she was lonely. He would have none of it and threatened to imprison her in her chambers, and when she stood up to him, he slapped her so hard he drew blood. It took everything I had to stop myself from killing him then and there, and still I might have, had the Queen's maidens not come to her aid. He left them, spouting horrible vulgarities at them, and I vowed then I would never allow a woman to be treated like that again."

The flame of memory flickers in Sol's eyes and he bites his lip. I think he really may have loved her, and I can not fault his noble act; he says he was 'barely more than an imp' then, but he was far more than that. "That night," he continues, "I went to her, and that night I became her lover. It was not only for her joy and my pleasure that I did it, but also for her protection. I vowed in my heart that if he ever bereated her again or anything of the kind that I would kill him." I rise and walk slowly, thoughtfully, to the Fountain and let the sweet Sacred Water run over my hands. "So how did you become King?" I can feel him looking at me, and I let his gaze linger; I've missed the feeling of this so terribly, the feeling of his gaze. "Dagrimis died a month or so later, finally giving in to his illness. I.....married the Queen." I spin around and look at him, nearly losing my footing on the tile. His expression is a quizzical one, like a kitten that's discovered the fish in the bowl are bigger than it is. He shrugs innocently and I do laugh then. "I married her. She needed what I could give her, and I gave it freely. She was wonderful, and once her jailer was buried, she blossomed. Dagrimis was never very popular with the folk, so when we married just days after the bastard's funeral, there was.....much rejoycing. They called me Morgan The Black because everything was still draped in funery cloth when the ceremony took place. When I was crowned, I still had the black robes because it suited me."

He draws to his feet and comes over to the other side of the Fountain. "It didn't last long though. Our happiness did, but deep inside I knew I had to return to my family, whatever was left of it, and about three months after our wedding, the Queen's sister Maychelle arrived with her nephew. Now, they accepted that I was King, but.....Druathan, as the Queen's only living heir, was the rightful King. I couldn't stand in the way of that, you know? This wasn't my world, this wasn't my place to rule. We agreed that I would 'embark on a journey to secure an alliance with a far-away Regent', and not return. Druathan would be crowned King in my absence." I realize this is difficult for him, and I imagine he must be very sad to see this world in such a terrible state. "I returned home, and almost wished I hadn't. My mother had dissolved her bond with my father and cast him aside; two of my brothers had killed each other during the conflict and my cousins had split and taken sides. My sister took control of the family and House, averting an all-out war that would have sucked in most of the surrounding Houses, because we were all allied and inter-related. Such a Hellewarre had not happened in centuries, and it had been devistating. Gerrika barred me from stepping foot on our family's land because, in her eyes, I had abandoned the family." He flicks the Water and sighs deeply, and I know his great heart is heavy. "When I found my father and sought to make a reconciliation with him, he only laughed. Garandor had actually sent me to this world for my protection. I had always been my father's favorite, and it was by his Wish that I found that Weftway."

I don't know what to say.....but I am so very grateful that he has shared this with me, and I think I love him more for it. Ironically, I might never have had this gift from him if I had not been brought here. He's given me something else, something I can only partly grasp, and I want to give him something in return. Slowly, I pull the ring that had been Sir Gwythen's from my tunic, kiss it, and with a trembling hand, offer it to my Beloved. "Dearest," I whisper, "I think this may be yours."

[OnionGroove]

He tells me to set the ring in the fountain. I don't question him, I think I understand what he has to do.....The Sacred Water cools his flame long enough for him to examine the ring, and after a few moments he places it back into the Water. His eyes are wet and he shakes his head, but doesn't meet my gaze. "Ogee," he whispers, and I want to hold him. "Sol, that ring belonged to a Knight, a Knight named Gwythen. That ring's mate gave me a Vision," now he looks at me and I hold up my hand; the Lady's ring glints on my finger in the moonlight. "I can't articulate what it was in the Vision that makes me feel that Gwythen's ring belongs to you, but my Heart tells me it does." I slide my hand into the Sacred Water to reclaim the ring, and before I can speak Sol rises and plunges his hands into it, and clasps my hand in his. If we could kiss, this would be a perfect moment, absolutely perfect....."Orgarune, we joined before The Goddess and our Clan, on that Sacred spot, so long ago," he says to me, "and my love for you was so great that I accepted Pádraig as part of our Union, in spite of my Nature. Now, after what seems like an Eternity to me, my love for you is far greater than I could have dared imagine. I have searched through Time for you, Daughter of Hakkon, and at this moment, on this Sacred spot, I claim you for my Bride and Lifemate once more, and make you my Queen."

The Healing Fire that keeps him from me physically can not prevent his emotions from reaching me, and I feel his love, his need and devotion, are stronger than ever. I know he has never wavered from me, but I....."my King," my voice cracks and I struggle to restrain my tears, "when I stepped through the Weftway from Talas into Gothador, and it sealed behind me, I thought I had lost you forever. Everything that had been, everything that I was, seemed to vanish. Gothador remade me, in a way, into Its own creation, and as my first year there passed, our life together seemed to be but a precious dream. I found solace in Nyghtshayde's friendship, comfort in the similarity of his Ways and Nature to yours, and after my second year there, I.....I lost hope of finding you again. I have never stopped loving you, my dearest Beloved, but.....each tick of the clock seemed to widen the distance between us. As my third year began, I resigned myself to Eternity without you and finally turned to my friend, my reminder of you. I--" my voice brakes and I would pull away from him, were he not holding my hand so tightly. I can bear his gaze no longer and my strength gives. I sob and turn away from him, choking on my words.

"I am not worthy of you, Solanales....."

My hand slips from his and I fall, only to be caught by Eglayne. She holds me close and I let go my tears, and she gently lifts me up. She turns from the fountain and I hear Sol behind us. "Please, Eglayne, do not take away my Bride from me." She stops and, without facing him, says, "I do not take her away from you, I give her to you." She tells me softly to weep no longer, then tells Sol to follow her. We go down dimly lit stairs, which she descends carefully, and I know the Water has come this way from the sound of Sol's feet on the steps. We reach a chamber after several minutes, and as my eyes adjust to the candlelight, I can see a huge pool in the center of the chamber. "This is one of the most sacred and magick places remaining in all this world," Eglayne says, and I've no doubt of it. The Water calls to me, pulls at me, and the light in the ripples of it are brighter than mere reflections of candlelight. She nods for Sol to step into the pool and tells him, "it can not heal you, Black Morgan, but it can hold your Flame at bay for a while, and give you Time with your Bride. The Queen's wounds are deep, and only you can heal her."

She hands me down to him and he takes me from her very tenderly, and at last I find myself in my Beloved's embrace.

He holds me tightly and I bury my face in his great mane. "Not worthy of me," he whispers in an almost chiding tone and I nod slightly. "I feel that I have betrayed you," I tell him and sits me on one of the cool stone benches in the pool. "Ogee, you have not betrayed me. Do you think I could not feel your sorrow, all the while I searched for you? I know you did not forsake me, and I do not begrudge you your comfort with Nyghtshayde, I'm grateful for it! It was he who reached out to me, to tell me you were in Gothador. He kept you safe, and free of the dispair that would have harmed you. Ogee, that was one of the things that kept me going, knowing you were safe and being cared for. Otherwise, if you had been lost somewhere and alone, I would have gone mad." I look up at him as he gently pours the cool water over me, and washes my tears away. Then, with an almost impish glitter in his amber eyes, he splashes me, drenching me completely. I gasp and jump up from the bench, astonished, and he chuckles wickedly. Much to my delight, his Devilish personality blossoms fully and he asks, "do you remember that day, on our Journey, when we swam naked in the Crystal River?" I feel the heat of my blush all over me and I can't help but giggle. "Vividly," I tell him and lunge forward, hoping to splash him and return the drenching, but he has always been faster than me.

"Good," he growls and grabs me up, holding me to him greedily. "You are the one I chose to join my life with, Orgarune. You are my Bride, and my Queen. Don't ever think you are not worthy of me." We stare into each other and I feel my whole Being tremble. My lips move but it's not speaking they want to be doing....."Solanales, my Beloved, my King, you complete me," I can't say anything else, I am overcome with emotion, and the relief I feel that he still desires me can not match the joy in my Heart. We have rejoining and renewal of our Bond, and we have each other again.