I really enjoyed this latest update. The slaps actually caught me off guard. Guess it's a tough love...

Heh, welcome home Athlain. And I bet I can guess what Mr. Beauchamp will be saying. Methinks Athlain could have invested his hard-earned money better... but I'm getting ahead of things. Athlain still has to survive the Sarethi's upcoming visitation!

*BANG BANG* I love you, son!

Err.....love you too, mom.



Well, Athlain did invest with the wrong guy. If he wanted an airship, he should have paid the Dwemer spectre below Mournhold a visit. Or the fat guy in his Dwemeric wheelchair below Tel Fyr. At least then he would have invested in someone who has some knowledge about Dwemeric technology.

Survive the Sarethi´s visitation???? oh dear, are they so scary? Hmmmm will be interesting to hear about that...

Haha....you´re funny Jackie!

Anyway I´m so glad to read more about Athlain, especially now when he visits his family....and perhaps old friends?

Wonderful update treydoggie! Me likey very much..

Yeah, it never pays to cross small, red-haired women. I had fun writing that scene. Now back to the story

We were barely seated when a great banging of doors and clattering upon the steps announced the arrival of my sisters. They burst into the room, two whirlwinds of red hair and blue eyes, nearly identical despite the two years that separated them. Mae started immediately, fixing me with a glare:

“Athlain! You rat! How could you just sneak off like that? We thought the Telvanni had grabbed you for some strange ritual.”

At a withering look from older sister Cai, she mumbled,

“Well, some of us thought so.”

My youngest sister had an unhealthy appetite for the more lurid sort of romances, the ones filled with heaving bosoms, stalwart heroes- and evil Telvanni wizards. Taking advantage of Mae’s momentary silence, Cai jumped in, cooing

“Oh your armor is just gorgeous! All the Redoran boys will be so jealous.”

Mae recovered from her fleeting embarrassment and chimed in: “Especially since the Temple doesn’t recruit Buoyant Armigers anymore.”

Cai picked up the thread again: “Not that they’ll admit it- they’ll just pretend that the Legion’s for brainless, muscle-bound lummoxes.”

After a thoughtful pause, she added,

“Not that you’re one of those. Muscle-bound, I mean.”

I had almost forgotten how the two of them completed each others’ sentences and how they worked together against a hapless victim- usually me. Sometimes, they could be a real trial, but just now, I didn’t mind at all. Not even when they begin to bombard me with questions:

“So, is it exciting? Have you rescued any elven princesses or fought hordes of Nord pirates? Did you get hurt? Is that why you’re home?”

They eyed me critically, taking in my complete complement of arms, legs, eyes, and ears. Somewhat disappointed, Cai complained:

“Hmm. You don’t have any visible scars. Scars can be so interesting. Did you get a tattoo?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at their hopeful expressions and jumped up to sweep them into a hug.

“And ‘hello’ to you, too, Large Nuisance and Smaller Nuisance. How have you been?”

I released them and subjected both to the same sort of scrutiny they had given me.

“Well, neither of you has any new scars. Did you get any tattoos?”

Even Mother burst into unrestrained laughter at that, and we all sat down to recover our breath. The hours that followed were wonderful and all too quickly over. As it got on toward evening, I began to feel somewhat restless to go to Ald’ruhn and see Louis Beauchamp. Mother, ever alert to such things, saw my fidgeting and brought the impromptu reunion to a close.

“Caia, Maesa, I believe you have lessons to complete?”

My sisters’ usual rapid-fire chatter came to a full stop as they endeavored to appear completely innocent, a sure sign that they were up to something. Cai made the first attempt:

“Lessons? We…um, that is I….”

Mae jumped into the breach: “We finished up at school. All of it.”

Her triumphant smile lasted only as long as it took Mother to reply,

“Splendid! That will give me more time to look over your work.”

The would-be partners in crime exchanged a glance and then shrugged. They were caught and they knew it. Mae stuck her tongue out at me and complained,

“It’s Athlain’s fault. If the sneaky rat hadn’t showed up unexpectedly, we would have had time to come up with a better story. I mean time to finish our work.”

She went back to trying to look angelic. Mother did not relent, saying,

“I’m sure I know what you mean. And I imagine your brother wants to go into Ald’ruhn and see some old friends.”

As identical crafty expressions appeared on Cai and Mae’s faces, she added,

“And I am quite certain he can find his way without assistance; the town hasn’t moved in the last few months. And I am also certain that whatever you might have left at school will keep until tomorrow.”

Having established her authority again, she softened the blow:

“Besides, I need you two to help me plan the party.”

That got their attention. Even though I was supposed to be the guest of honor, I was soon as forgotten as last year’s Winter Fest gift. Smiling, I silently withdrew. Tiber Septim himself had never planned a campaign as carefully as my mother planned a party. Ald’ruhn would likely never be the same.

This post has been edited by treydog: Jan 6 2008, 01:09 AM

Mother had been correct- I did want to go into Ald’ruhn- and I would probably meet with some of my friends…eventually. But the first stop I wanted to make was at the Ald Skar Inn, where Louis Beauchamp was staying. At least, I hoped he was still staying there, and had not simply disappeared with all the money I had donated to his project. In the weeks since I had received the fussy Breton’s last letter, I had spent a great deal of time contemplating stories of investors who had been gulled by fast-talking tricksters. In truth, the loss of the money was of less concern to me than my potential embarrassment over being taken in. On the other hand, no one who had ever met Louis Beauchamp would refer to him as “fast-talking.” Such was the state of my mind as I entered the common room of the Ald Skar and looked around. To my relief, the richly-dressed inventor was seated at a table near the back, staring pensively into space, and occasionally looking at some papers scattered in front of him. He did not notice my approach until I drew out a chair and seated myself across from him. His first startled reaction was to guiltily fold up his papers and then blurt out,

“Your pardon, Captain, but I am doing n-n- nothing wrong. I purchased these materials from a reputable Imperial broker. I know nothing about any s- s- stolen goods.”

He swallowed convulsively and peered at me near-sightedly. New lines of worry had been etched upon his face and his hair seemed to have receded even further in the time since I had last seen him. I reminded him of who I actually was and pointed out that; first, I was not a captain; and, second, I was here as a private citizen and investor. He blinked at my words and then seemed to finally recognize me.

“Oh. Oh yes. Young Athlain. I didn’t realize it was you. Please, have a seat.”

A rather sickly smile crossed his face when I pointed out that I was already seated, and he lapsed into silence. I prompted him with,

“The airship, Mr. Beauchamp? What has happened to the airship?”

“Yes, well. The…ah, the airship. It flew quite beautifully. A clever bit of magic if I do say so. The crew… hmmm, yes, well…. You know it can be difficult to find trustworthy people for an expedition of this sort.”

He again fell into a distracted silence, staring at the ceiling and seeming to lose the thread of the conversation. Again, I had to prod him.

“Mr. Beauchamp?” I waved a hand before his face. “The airship, Mr. Beauchamp? What happened after you launched it? Where did you send it?”

“Oh yes. They were to go to the north, to Solstheim, away from all this dust. I wanted them to locate Hrothmund’s Barrow and retrieve a certain…oh, item.” At last, some animation returned to the depressed inventor as he began to explain the expedition.

“Hrothmund's Barrow is a grave...well...crypt. It is said to lie...that is, the barrow is at the eye...of the wolf. There's a formation, you see. Rock...ice...that sort of thing. Shaped like a wolf...the wolf that killed Hrothmund! He's said to be um....entombed...at the wolf's eye. It's only visible from the sky...or, well...an airship. That's why I...built it. So...if I may say so...the airship was a brilliant idea. Build the airship, hire the crew, they find the barrow and recover the amulet. Then they bring it to me! Perfect plan, I thought....”

He smiled for the first time and took a sip of his wine., then continued,

“They were to recover...that is, bring me a special amulet. According to stories...legends and such...Horthmund was quite the...well...he had plenty of lady friends! He was ugly, too...ugly as a troll! But he had a magic trinket...he wore it. The Amulet of Infectious Charm, it was called. By...all records...he was buried with it. That's why I built the airship...hired the crew. I just...I must have that amulet, Athlain. But...there's been no word. I worry...I fear the crew has failed me.”

He fell back into a gloomy silence and then heaved a sigh.

“I...I suppose I should have...well, you know...gone myself. But all that...flying, and cold weather and...well, maybe danger! That's what I...what I get for trying to do...you know, hire...someone else to do the job...well, expedition, really.... I just wish I knew what happened. Did they fly off course? Or maybe...maybe they found the amulet, and...and flew away! To meet women! No fair maiden could resist a man with the...the Amulet of Infectious Charm...in an airship, no less! Say...Athlain.... I...I don't suppose you're...well...for hire? I would even...pay you...greatly...to find my airship. Your initial investment… plus… interest. I'd need proof of what happened to the airship, of course! Evidence, as it were...just...just to be sure. And...of course...for you to bring me the...the amulet! I NEED that amulet!”

Excellent. I'm really glad to see this back up and running

Will Athlain agree to further help Louis Beauchamp, despite the financial outlay he's already given, so Beauchamp can achieve his goal of becoming...a ladies man? Will he be tempted to use the amulet himself (or is that a different kind of story )?

I don't know the answers yet, I'm just glad that I have questions to ask once more. This really is a terrific story, and I can't wait for further updates.

Your eager reader,

Burnt

"I must have it! My PPPPRREEEESSSSIIIIOOOOUUUSSSS!"

Okay, now that's the kind of thing Beauchamp is going to say if this gets any worse. Speaking of which, why didn't he try to get a charm amulet of his own enchanted? Or why didn't he just stock up on Telvanni Bug Musk? It's both cheaper and more foolproof than inventing a bloody airship.

On the other hand, beyond this amulet, what other charm items do we know of? Moon-and-Star, Sheogorath's signet ring. Neither of those two are mundane items, so maybe the ability to enchant charm items yourself is a game-thing and not a lore-thing. That still doesn't rule out Bug Musk though.

Oh, and I loved the antics of Athlain's sisters.
"Got any new scars? A tattoo? Lost an arm? No? llllaaaaammmmeeee...."

Hmmm, mayhaps this will be the motivation for Athlain to take a trip to the frosty north. We shall see I suppose. Great work Trey!

uhhhh sweet Azura! TWO updates and not a single comment from me? Outrageous...

Anyway Athlain will have a go with his entire female family hehe, younges sisters really can be a pain in the...ehh somewhere. We'll just have to wait and see right? And the encounter with Louis B...hmmm well that will be interesting, will he send Athie up north? To that wretched island of Solstheim? i guess we'll await that as well....

can't wait, actually

For long seconds, I simply stared at Louis Beauchamp, my mouth hanging open in amazement. It was almost more than my mind could absorb- he had obtained the airship plans, possession of which was technically a capital crime; invested untold time and money to build and enchant the Dwemer craft; hired a crew…. In order to get an amulet that would supposedly make him attractive to women? Why didn’t the fool just invest in Telvanni bug musk? He probably could have purchased a manufactory with what he had put into the airship project. Failing that, anyone with his obvious magical ability should certainly be able to craft a personality-enhancing charm. For one of the few times in my life, I found myself absolutely speechless. Beauchamp must have taken my incredulous silence for refusal; he blinked rapidly a few times and then said,

“Oh...well...that's fine. I understand...I....suppose I will be able to find someone to continue the search. I just fear that I will not get anyone… reliable. Most of those who I asked simply laughed at me. And some of them even threw me out.”

I held up a hand to stop his babble as I tried to think. Despite the foolishness that had been at the heart of this scheme, the idea of locating and entering the barrow of a Nord pirate was very appealing. One characteristic I shared with my father was an affinity for our northern brethren. I knew that the Empire had only recently taken an interest in Solstheim, sending representatives from the East Empire Company to search for marketable resources. The small island was still very much the frontier, largely unexplored. It was just the sort of adventure I had been seeking when I left home. I would have to come up with a way to conduct the search for the airship while still honoring my obligation to the Legion- I was determined to make a success of my enlistment. Well, one thing at a time.

“Mr. Beauchamp, I will be glad to search for the airship and Hrothmund’s Barrow. It might take some time before I can get free….” With a gesture, I indicated my uniform and then continued, “But I promise that I will do my best.”

It took a moment for my words to register. Beauchamp said,

“Yes, I know it must seem very silly to a young man like you…. I will just get someone else, or go myself…I…. Wait. Athlain, did you say you would help me? Why that's...that's...splen...I mean...oh, wonderful! As I said, the airship is...was...headed north, to Solstheim.... The Amulet of Infectious Charm is...well, it's supposed to be at...that is, in...Hrothmund's Barrow. At the eye of the beast...the wolf, I mean. But you must...must say the wolf's name! To enter! Say, ‘Ondjage.’ Answer wrong, and the barrow will be sealed...forever!”

As I left the Ald Skar, Louis Beauchamp was thoughtfully tugging at what little remained of his hair. I realized that if I did not find an answer for him fairly soon, he would be completely bald. My next stop was the Rat in the Pot. It was still a rather seedy tavern, which explained its attraction to my friends. They somehow thought it was daring to drink there, not realizing that the Redoran Council made sure that nothing bad would happen to anyone. The worst one might expect would be a bad hangover or a few coins lost at one of the games. Still, I was happy to see my old school-mates, and they were as impressed as I could have wished with my new status. I was not allowed to pay for my drinks, and every word of my stories of “life in the Legion” was given avid attention. It hardly mattered that there was little real “action” in those stories- it was still more than anyone else had done. But somehow, the envy and adulation did not cheer me as I had thought it would. Rather, I felt somehow distant and apart from my friends and their day-to-day concerns. It was as if I had changed in the months away while they had remained the same. Even as I felt the melancholy threatening to overwhelm me, I realized that this was all the more reason to make sure Mother and my sisters enjoyed the party tomorrow evening. After a final drink, I made my excuses and left the others to their gossip and bickering, feeling suddenly quite old. As I exited the tavern, a tall figure detached itself from the shadows and halted in front of me.

Startled, I reached to my belt for the mace that was not there, that was in fact propped against a wall at home. The person before me made no threatening movement, simply reached up to lower her hood and uncover her face. It was Serene, head of House Redoran and wife of Athyn Sarethi. I went into a near spasm, trying to bow while at the same time pretending I had not just been scrabbling for a non-existent weapon. She laughed softly and said,

“Peace, Athlain. Stand still before you do yourself an injury.”

When I straightened, automatically assuming the position of attention, she surveyed me carefully. At last she spoke again:

“You know, diligent observation and awareness of your surroundings is sometimes more useful than any weapon- especially when you don’t have one.”

There was a serious undertone to her teasing and it came to the fore with her next words,

“Athlain, it is not wise for you to go abroad unarmed. Whether you intended to or not, you chose a side when you joined the Imperial Legion. Not everyone is happy with that choice- and some will act on their unhappiness.”

She stopped and looked at the star-speckled sky above us.

“And there are other, darker forces in motion as well. The wind is from the north tonight and it carries a scent of ice. What the signs and portents mean, I cannot say, but my heart tells me that malice is abroad in the world. Best be prepared lest it find you.”

With those words, she drew her cloak around her and disappeared into the darkness. More aware than ever of my lack of weapons, I hastened homeward, where I fell into a troubled sleep. My dreams were disjointed, seeming to involve pursuit by unknown foes across a snowy landscape.

This post has been edited by treydog: Apr 3 2008, 02:55 AM

So, despite the utter ridiculousness of the whole situation, Athlain has still agreed to go on with it. Must be wanderlust or something. That's the only reason I can think of.

And after that came a rather unexpected cameo. (Well, I did expect her to pop up, just not there. I was expecting her at the party, honestly.)

Neat, though I've got to wonder just why Serene picked the spooky 'come from the shadows' aproach.

Ohhhh greatness! We're proceeding here and that is good! Naturally Serene can't just walk about in Ald'ruhn just like that! She's gotta be mysterious it's in her!

Now I naturally wonder what arms she meant for Athlain......oh and how the party will go on tomorrow night, with Athlains dear mom and annoying sisters!

But maybe Trey himself will put some oil on the water as we say in the north...


And I'm naturally very honoured that Serene appears in this story....truly honoured..

Jack- I shamelessly stole your ideas about Beauchamp to illustrate Athlain's disbelief- thanks. Motivation? Hmmm- he's a kid; it's an adventure.... As for Serene- she sensed something on the wind and immediately assumed her role of protector- a role she played for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named (Trey), as well. And it was an object lesson for our young Legionnaire that he isn't a civilian anymore and can't just obliviously wander around in the dark. Serene has had Legion training too, don't you know. Legion NCOs are always sneaking up on the recruits...

A most satisfying update, treydog. The young folks really have no sense of their own mortality, nor what "adventure" really means.

(As a young "folk", I speak from experience, of course.)

I haven't commented in a while, but have been trying to keep up with some of the stories here (there are too many to keep up with them all). I enjoyed the last few updates, and am intrigued by the manner in which you are setting up Athlain's time in Solstheim. I usually enjoy seeing how people portray Beauchamp, and this story is no exception to that. The warning given my Serene is quite ominous; you make it seem like you are trying to set an even darker tone for this story than for those you have written previously (or perhaps I'm simply over-interpreting; I guess only time will tell).

Despite the doubts and disappointments of the previous evening, the next day dawned fair, with pleasant weather and the comfortable bickering of Cai and Mae to cheer me. To their immense delight, Mother had granted them a holiday from school so that they could help prepare for the party. That amnesty earned me a reprieve from my status as a “rat,” but I knew the suspension of sentence was only temporary. My services in the arrangements were needed only infrequently, and I was often more in the way than of actual use. It was rather like being a boulder in the midst of a rushing torrent. Feeling at loose ends, I took myself off to Father’s alchemical workshop, a place which held many happy memories amongst the pungent aromas. I could not help but smile as I looked upon the many bins and bottles, all labeled in his distinctive script. My gaze fell next upon his cluttered workbench, covered with scattered glassware, formulae, and other bits and pieces of apparatus, looking as though he had just stepped out for a moment. Finally, I turned to my own area, a corner he had furnished and given to me when I was still quite young. There I found a surprise. Instead of the dust of neglect I had expected after months of disuse, everything was polished to a high shine, all the tools of the alchemist’s trade carefully arranged and ready for use. And centered on the bench was my own laboratory journal. My heart beat painfully in my chest; I knew whose scarred hands had polished every vial and tube, who it was who had brought order to my chaos. I held my breath, waiting for his touch upon my shoulder and his deep voice to guide me. The moment passed, and I reached for the journal, not seeking answers in the pages, but perhaps escape. The book opened to reveal a folded paper and a small cloth bag. The paper had no salutation or seal, but when I opened it, it was covered with my father’s precise writing. It was a long discourse on the value of the spells Mark and Recall. Interspersed with the dry, almost academic language were bits of advice: “Recall can literally save an adventurer’s life….” and “Successful casting of the circinate spells requires great skill in Mysticism; therefore, potions or amulets are to be preferred.” At the bottom of the page were carefully inked illustrations of paired amulets used to cast the spells. When I opened the bag and tipped the contents into my hand, I was not surprised to see two amulets that matched the drawings exactly. With controlled movements, I refolded the note and place it back inside my journal, which I also closed and centered again on the work table. It was time to prepare for our guests.

Because the celebration was not a formal gathering, guests were free to arrive at their own convenience, rather than following the strict protocol dictated by the formidable Redoran matriarchs. The lack of formality also meant that I did not have to go through the ordeal of standing in a receiving line with Mother and my sisters, greeting each guest according to their rank, all the while trying to ignore the remarks the two nuisances made in barely detectable whispers. However, as my presence was the nominal reason for the gathering, I was expected to speak with each guest for at least a few minutes. That wasn’t too bad; most of them were folk I had known all my life- friends, relatives of friends, and the like. By unspoken agreement, the usual factional squabbles of House politics were set aside in favor of eating and drinking. Business could be conducted; but it had to be kept on a friendly basis. So the party proceeded nicely; groups of people coalesced and broke apart, carried along on currents of conversation. As darkness fell, paper lanterns cast a festive light over the gardens, and many of the guests took advantage of the pleasant weather to slip outside. I had unfortunately been cornered by a minor connection of the Andrano family, an elderly Dunmer who held very strong opinions about the Empire, the Nords, the other Great Houses, the quality of current beverages…. I should say, he held very strong and negative opinions. He took in my uniform with a disapproving snort and asked petulantly,

“Why didn’t you become an Armiger, if you wanted to go into the service? Now they’re a sharp outfit, no mistake. Why, when I was just a youngster, we….”

I groaned inwardly and resigned myself to a long, dull evening. Once old Sedrim got started, he was like an ancient Dwemer machine- able to run seemingly forever, without need of fuel or rest. Salvation came in the form of a flurry of activity at the front door. I pressed my glass of wine into his hands and excused myself, saying,

“Sorry. Must go. Might be a Nord invasion.”

In fact, my jest was closer to the mark than I knew- the Sarethis had arrived. It wasn’t that they were loud or that they demanded attention- they simply had enough presence between them to still an arena.

I comported myself with much greater dignity than I had when Serene surprised me the previous night, shaking hands with Uncle Athyn and managing a respectable bow for the great lady herself. Just as I was congratulating myself on my performance, it all fell apart. Serene and Athyn went in search of Mother, and the third member of their party stepped in front of me. It was Athynae, sure enough; I had seen her nearly every day of my life. But she was … different. She had done something complicated with her hair that seemed to defy gravity, as well several other laws of physics. And there was something new about her eyes, too. They were violet, just like before, but seemed larger somehow and luminous, as if they contained an inner light. All my previous calm fled, and I simply stood there, staring, trying to say something. What I finally managed was a strangled, “Urk.” A voice from my right said,

“Don’t mind Max, here…” followed by an answering voice from my left, which finished the sentence, “…we figure he did too much blunt weapon practice without a helmet.”

Mae and Cai. They had homed in on my struggles as silently and efficiently as two slaughterfish after a wounded guar. Now my misery was complete, or so I thought. With a dazzling smile that did strange things to my stomach, Athynae asked,

“'Max'? I don’t understand.”

My dear, sweet sisters stepped forward and each took one of her arms, explaining as they led her away,

“Oh, that’s our new name for him. It’s short for ‘Maximus Rattus’.”

The three girls departed, their heads bowed in a conversation laden with giggles and sidelong glances at me. For my part, I decided that the gods clearly hated me. There could be no other explanation for why I had been given not one, but two sisters. I glowered after them and gave serious thought to proposition that the education of females was not only overrated, but also dangerous.

Maximus Rattus? BWAHAHA!!! Man, I loved that. Those sisters sure are a handful.

I liked everything else as well, such as the gift of the two amulets, old dudes droning on about how the legion sucks. Nice stuff.

Wonderful! "Urk" he said spotting Thyna! Now isn't that just cute? haha...she will be so utterly amused....or will she?

I want to read more about that party....it's gonna be so funny, I can well imagine Baria fuzzing about Serene and Athyn..ohlalaaa And Athlain being so startled about Thyna!

Mind you, that girl deliberately fixed herself up just for Athlain...oh aye...Now she won't be happy seeing him leave for Solstheim, so she might take actions ....mmmmm mind my words

My cheeks burning with embarrassment, I escaped to the welcome darkness of the garden. I slumped dejectedly onto a bench and stared unseeing at the lanterns. As I tried to grasp just what had gone wrong, the scents of Mother’s flowers came to me on the breeze and I distracted myself by cataloging them. Gold kanet, heather, black anther, even coda flowers in the pond Father had built. The scents teased me, seeming to add an aromatic counterpoint of glee to the real laughter which had driven me outdoors. Then a different scent began to grow, elusive and enticing, and I heard a quiet step on the gravel path.

“Athlain? You shouldn’t be sitting out here in the dark. At least…not by yourself. May I sit down?”

It was Athynae, mercifully unaccompanied. Even so, my usual facility with words had left me. I continued to sit in strangled silence, which my childhood friend apparently mistook for surliness. She stamped her foot and said in a low voice,

“Athlain, if you don’t talk to me right now, I’m leaving. And I’ll never speak to you again.”

The threat was enough to shatter my paralysis, and I gasped,

“No! Please stay.” Some of my wits came back and I managed to venture, “Is that a new dress?”

The question broke the tension and she quickly sat beside me on the bench.

“Oh yes. Mother had it sent from the Imperial City, along with the perfume I’m wearing. She has a catalog and contacted one of her friends in the Mages Guild, who teleported it here. We spent most of today getting it fitted.”

She stood and twirled to show off the gown, which seemed to sparkle in the star- and lantern-lit night. The pause allowed me to opine that I thought it was very nice. That set off another rush of words,

“Do you really like it? It’s just that I saw you when you came in on the silt-strider and you looked so amazing in your Legion uniform. And then when Aunt Baria told Mama about the party for you, I just HAD to have something new to wear, something that would look wonderful. Because I wanted to impress you.”

There was a sudden stop, and she fidgeted with her fan and said in a much quieter voice,

“Oops. Mae and Cai told me not to say anything about that.”

“Mae and Cai told you?” My tone was brittle.

Her reply was nearly a whisper, “I’m sorry. It’s just that nothing ever happens here, and you didn’t answer my letter, and you’ve been away, doing things. And…and… probably seeing all kinds of girls, girls who are just interested in your uniform, who don’t really know you. And so I had to ask somebody what you liked.”

That last was almost a wail. “’Thyna,” I said, using her nickname, “The only ‘girls’ I’ve met are female Orc Legionnaires. And my ‘adventures’ have mostly consisted of patrolling the eggmine and running up and down hills.”

Impulsively, I reached for her hand. “And what I like is you.”

She snuffled a little and stole a glance at me. “Really?”

I squeezed her hand and said, “Yes, really. And now we should probably get back inside.”

Athynae stood and gave me a quick kiss, saying “You’re so sweet. And I promise I’ll never call you ‘Max.’” Then she scampered off toward the house, leaving me again in stunned silence. This time, however, the sensation was not in the least unpleasant.

The moment passed and I followed the scent of Athynae’s perfume back to the house. Mother was waiting near the door and pulled me into a quiet corner, where she gave me a searching look.

“Athynae Sarethi came in just a little ahead of you and she was smiling, but her eyes looked like she had been crying. I know she went to look for you- what happened?”

“I’m not quite sure. But I think everything is fine.”

Her expression did not clear. “You ‘think’? I’m afraid that’s not good enough. Athynae is a nice girl and you are a …” I could see her mentally editing, “…nice young man. But wine and moonlight can have quite an impact.”

At last, my befuddled brain understood where she was going. I raised my hands in protest and said, “No! Oh no! It was nothing like that! I mean, I told her I liked her dress and she kissed me- once. And then she told me she wouldn’t ever call me ‘Max,’ and, by the way, if that name ever gets out, I’m going to kill a certain pair of too-clever-by-half blabbermouths. But I never…why are you laughing?”