Sometimes you are the light, and sometimes you just need a little shine. I’m so delighted to hear from you and read some more story!

I wondered what I was becoming, and if I would like the result. But then I touched the leather pouch that held the carved bits of ivory, Ahnya’s birthright- and I knew.

I have wondered this, too. What an excellent and reassuring moment. I think that his own awareness can be a governor on the changes. And as Athlain says, there will be time to brood later.

“Welcome, Trey. I hope your journey was successful?”

Quick question: Did Svenja mean to call him Trey? I have wondered if Trey was around somewhere with Seth, but I might have missed something.

Athynae… it might be that making amends to her was impossible, but that did not release me from the obligation to try. And I would get my chance rather sooner than I had expected.

And while on fire, Athlain might remark: It seems that we will not freeze to death. He did a masterful job of unbalancing and tempting his dangerous opponent/love of his life. Athlain has to manage Athynae without letting her know that she is being managed, while the whole time she might have noticed and already be planning her revenge. Their interactions are a complicated delight!

I love the quiet way Brynjolfr presented what must be some of his finest work. It seemed that something of Athlain traveled into the sword along with the enchantment. Hopefully it will take Athynae’s breath away before she has a chance to shout!

OHHH! Athlain! Now be a smart guy and avoid upsetting Ms Thyna...FOR YOUR SAKE dear boy! Things are getting tighter now and I really can't wait to see more....

oh and my dear dachshund...read my reply in Athynae's thread.....hehehehehe

Oh, this was good.

The whole sequence of Athlain and Athynae accepting greater responsibilities has been impressive. The childish fears of unkillable ghosts and slinking spirits has been replaced by the very real, very complex duties of a man and a woman forcing themselves to exercise a moral code, in a responsible, demanding, and realistic manner. Growing up is hard to do, when you make it hard on yourself that you may be a better person.

That said, wits and quick thinking seem equally important, saving one a fight until after it has been won. Athlain's conversation with 'Thyna is right out of Zurin Arctus, or Sun Tzu. The Art of Love and War, Which Is Really the Same Thing: "Winning an argument with a woman is only the barest kind of victory for a man. Winning against a woman before the argument starts is the acme of a man's skill."

Keep on, Son of Trey.

Also, thanks for not being done yet. I know, I know, petty of me to say, but by not being done, I don't have to worry about finishing till well after The Elder Scrolls VI: Placeholder comes out.

An inspiration to us all, Trey. Or at least, the lazy ones.

This post has been edited by Captain Hammer: Aug 22 2012, 05:26 AM

I read this a long time ago, must have missed commenting it. (probably had a dog emergency needing to go out and lost track). I love how you described enchanting Athynae's weapon, not just a great explanation but very visual!



And now the S is going to hit the sails. Or we will see the newly matured Athynae that has developed before our eyes !! Awesome Write !!!

To quote Samwise Gamgee- "Well, I'm back." Seems appropriate what with Hobbit being on the big screen and all. And yes, I realize the quote is from The Return of the King, but anyway....

I sometimes think that if I had been the one who had knee surgery, I might have been more likely to do more writing.... As it is, my focus has been on the dear Mrs. and on the 3 four-footed beggars that seem to be draped across the furniture 23 and half hours a day.

So. Here is a post that has been long-awaited, by me as much as anyone. There was so much I wanted to get done here that I rather hung fire until I was sure it was "right". (Note to self- STOP doing that!)

Knowing that this community is still here and still attracted new writers is a great comfort to me, even if I am less "present" than I should be.

Where we are: Athlain has returned from imposing a form of frontier justice on some reavers who murdered the family of a young Nord girl, Ahnya. Ahnya was become Athynae's "apprentice," at least in the skill of archery. Besides returning from a mission of revenge, Athlain must also now face Athynae for the first time since he... "borrowed" her katana without permission. To encapsulate the significance of that act, think in terms of stealing a jewel that is actually the eye in the statue of a god- from a temple of devotees who consider blood sacrifice as necessary as breathing. Speaking of gods, looming over this all is the fact that Hircine, Daedric God of the Hunt, has invoked the Blood Moon and the Wild Hunt. The A and A team are also up to their ears in THAT... assuming Athlain has any ears left.

---------------------------------------------------

"Ahnya, the Chieftain has returned and requested an audience with you in the forge. He sent me to get you." I was still using the obedient servant voice, just not quite as thick with ‘kill you later’ running from it. “Come on girl; he doesn't need to wait.”

The expression on Ahnya’s face was tinged with fear but I didn’t really care just then.

“Yes of course, Miss... I mean Thyna. But… what's wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong. Why would you ask me that?” I needed to see past something, though I couldn’t figure out what. Athlain had something to tell her that was important; I knew him well enough to know that.

“Because you are scowling and you seem angry. Did I do something wrong?” Her voice quavered.

“If you had done something wrong I would have told you. I do not play games with people, Ahyna.” Well, not really, and if I do it is only Athlain- because he insists on playing them with me.

“Miss? Then will you tell me why you are angry? And why does the chieftain wish to see me? Is that why you are unhappy?” She was asking if I was jealous. I almost laughed.

“I do not know exactly why his highness wishes to speak with you. And- NO! My… annoyance isn't anything to do with you- it is all to do with him.” The Chieftain of thieves…my mind added.

“But- I thought you and he were...”

“He took something of mine that is very special to me.” The bite was unmistakable.

Ahnya’s voice was still shaking but not quite as much as it had been. “I know you fight with each other- the entire hall knows that... but... Svenja said...”

“Oh sweet mercy.” Now we get to add the mother cliff racer into this.

“ ‘Took something’ Miss... Thyna? Why would he do that? It does not seem like him at all.”

Disappointment shaded her eyes; her hero had done something less than heroic.

“He took something of mine that he had no right to take. According to Bryn it is ‘for’ me.”

“Have you asked him about it? Father always said I should ask if I did not understand something.”

“Well, I tried when he returned but he insisted on seeing you first.” Oh, I do hate when things get muddled…. “I am still very angry with him but something in my head keeps saying ‘wait for the rest of the story’ and that it has something to do with Ahnya.”.

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“But-- now I do not understand. I suppose I will have to ask.” She was fighting tears, quite bravely I might add. I couldn’t help but feel pride in her.

“I think I know, but it is not for me to tell. Suffice it to say, he has accomplished something honorable and courageous all while testing my patience.”

As we neared the forge, I could hear that beloved, annoying voice chanting something in Aldmeris. The words were not anything I could recognize, but the very air seemed to vibrate with the power, and a bluish light flashed from the doorway to the forge. He was working a powerful enchantment and I wondered what the idiot thought he was up to. Well, as Ahnya had said, there was one way to find out, so I stepped through the door- just in time to see Bryn slide something under his counter and Athlain collapse onto a bench. Served him right. He always pushed himself too hard. And it would be a hot day in Solstheim before I helped him.

In the same tone Kausha used when she felt I was being especially stubborn, I announced:

“Ahnya has arrived, my Lord Athlain, as you requested.”

He tried to spring up from the bench, but had to hold onto the wall. And then he shook himself. While the healer in me wanted to do something, my anger was too strong, so I just smiled and asked:

“A bit tired are we? If you wouldn't mistreat your friends they might give you a potion.”

But the great lord and chieftain of Thirsk ignored me, and instead looked at Ahnya, who had been trying to stand as still as possible behind me. He waved her forward, and I was proud to see her step up with no hesitation. And for his part, Athlain the Rat knelt down so their eyes were level and held out a leather bag as he spoke.

"Ahnya Torvarsdottir. I cannot give back to you all that you lost. But I can give you this." I was a bit taken back by the emotion in his voice, thick with concern and also strength, a strength that he wished to pass to her.

Ahnya kept her hands at her sides, and I could see her fighting the impulse to look at me. I placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze so she would know I was there.

“What? What do you mean ‘give me’? I don't want anyone to give me anything I haven't earned. My lord, I cannot take that.”

He took her hand and gently pressed the pouch into it.

“Open it please. It is yours by right.”

“By right?”

“Open it and you will see.”

Reluctantly, she did as he asked, and carved bits of ivory tumbled into her other palm. She stared at them in silence and then said, “But Chieftain, I don't understand. What is this?”

He smiled tiredly and asked, “Do you not recognize the carving? Is it not your father's craft?”

I felt Ahnya tremble under my hand as she bent her head to look at the carvings. With her hair hiding her face, she spoke in a barely audible voice, “But… the house burned. It was all lost. And my parents were….” Her shoulders were shaking but there was no sound.

“Yes. And those responsible have paid for their actions. And these carvings are yours.”

Ahnya still could not look up, but she did as she had said she would- she asked. “How? Where did you find them and how did you get these?”

“As chieftain, it is my responsibility to look after my people. That includes you.” He placed his hand on the opposite shoulder from where I still kept contact with her. I could feel the effort as she fought to keep from crying. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she said, “But I am nothing to you.”

Athlain reached his hand to raise her chin, so he could look into her eyes, "Ahnya. Look at me please."
She continued in that quiet voice, “I only came here because of Svenja. I don't even know you.”

“You came here and asked for work, for a chance to earn your way.”

“I didn't have a choice. I have to take care of myself. No one else is responsible for me; my parents are gone.”

He nodded his agreement. “And that- is why. And never think you are ‘nothing’. You are strong and brave and resourceful.”

At last I found my own voice and I said, “Ahnya, you are all of those things. I saw all of them in you today. You will be a great archer and a great asset to this clan.”

I could not look at Athlain as I added, “He was doing what any leader should do. He was drawing you into his circle of protection. He wants you to feel safe here. And he wants you to know that you do belong here.”

I turned the girl to face me and looked deep into those blue eyes, the eyes of a hunter in the making. “Do you understand?”

She looked back and forth between us, as if uncertain which way to turn. And then she gathered herself, took the stance I had taught her just that morning.

“I don't know what to say to either of you. ‘Thank you’ doesn't seem quite enough.” She looked to Athlain. “Chieftain, I will work very hard, I promise. And I will practice every day to become a great hunter.”

He smiled again and nodded. “I expect no less. And- I am proud that you are part of Thirsk.”

Then she turned back to me. “Thyna, thank you so much for all that you did for me today.”

Something seemed to catch in my throat and a swirl of forge smoke must have blurred my vision for a moment, but I hugged her close and told her: “I am proud that you are Ahnya. And that you are my friend.”

Several beats passed and then Athlain cleared his throat before saying,

“And now- I have another responsibility. Athynae, I wronged you.”

How could he? I did not want to hear this. The moment had been perfect- why did he have to ruin it?

“Please don't…”

But he continued, as if I had not spoken, “Taking your katana without permission…”

”Stop. This isn't fair.” He had used the entire exchange with Ahnya to disarm me, and he would pay for it somehow.

“And now- I would like to return it to you.”

“No! Not now. You cheated! You do something honorable and brave, but even more, something touching and sweet. You douse the fire, and then you want to give me back what you took from me?”

I crossed my arms and stomped my foot, something I had not done in years. But he just made me so angry! And then, to top it all, he refused to yell back. He just looked… sad… and determined.

“Very well. If you will not have it from me, will you take it from Brynjolfr?”

Instead of answering his completely unfair question, I asked one of my own: “I just want to know one thing.”

“Yes?”

“Why? Why would you hurt me like that? IT IS MY KATANA! Mine!”

“Because I knew if I told you what I had in mind- you would never agree. And because I will do anything to keep you alive. Even if it means you hate me.” In that new found strength, his voice was deep and sure, another cheat….OOOHHHH!

“I do hate you! Because you cheat. I don't like cheaters.”

Finally, some color came into his cheeks and a bit of heat was in his voice as he responded, “And I will cheat every time if it means giving you one more chance to stay alive.”

I did not want to hear that, so I tried to change the subject, “What did Bryn do to my katana?”

But besides being a cheater, Athlain could be stubborn and he was not finished with his little speech.
“I cannot keep you safe- not all of the Nine could do that.”

He could be so infuriating. I stomped my foot again and yelled, “Oh stop that! I have done just fine taking care of myself.” I avoided making eye contact with Ahnya, recalling that just that morning I had told her the story of my encounter with the werewolf. And besides- I had done well... mostly. He was finally finishing his lecture.

“…But- I can make sure you survive.”

I gave him the raised eyebrow with narrowed eyes look I had seen Mother use to such effect. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”

He sighed and shook his head. “Please- just look at what Bryn has done- for you. And then- if you still want to kill me, well- at least it will be quick.”

I muttered, “No it won't.” But, I needed to see what had been done to my sword. I glared at him and said, “Give me my damn katana then. But know this, Athlain Treyson. If you so much as breathe on Dreamer again, Uncle Trey and Aunt Baria will never find all of the pieces.”

With that I stepped up to Bryn’s counter and he handed me a beautifully made case. The wood looked like it had come from the Nibenay Valley, perhaps even from the Blackwood. And I recognized Bryn’s own hand in the crafting of the brass fittings. I placed a hand on the lid, thinking perhaps I could feel her within, feel the same connection I had felt in Uncle Seth’s armory. There was no sound except the crackle of the forge fire. At last, I opened the latch and raised the lid, revealing a long silk bag. My fingers trembled and I had to remind myself to breathe as I stood the bag on end and loosed the drawstring.

My eyes filled and my heart beat slowly, and the time might have gone on forever, if not for Ahnya, who I had almost forgotten, whispering, "Oh Miss- she is beautiful!"

A single tear broke free and slid down my face as I placed my hands on Dreamer’s hilt.

“I…” my words came out with even more of a rasp than usual, “…still hate you… and…. But… well…”

Bryn spoke quietly, gazing at the sword that seemed to have become welded to my hands. “She be my masterwork, lass. I may never make another blade and yet I will go to me long-fathers with pride.”

I could not take my eyes from the ebony hilt, the polished silver edging of the blade, the star-burst rivets, but I had to tell him- it was almost as if Bryn, the great bear of a smith, was pleading with me to release him.

“Bryn, I thought when I held her the first time that I would never find another blade that felt like she did, that made me feel like she did. And she doesn't anymore.” I shuddered and went on. “She carries all that she did before… and more.”

He might have let loose a sigh- I was not really listening, but I do know he spoke again.

“Naow the spell. That was all himself.”

But I was not paying attention; I stepped away to give myself enough space and closed my eyes, going through a kata before I looked at him again. He smiled at me and pointed to the hilt:

“See ye how the gem fits inta the pommel there?”

But I was still lost in the feel of Dreamer, back in my hands, as I told him, “I didn't know perfect could be more perfect, Bryn.”

Then his words penetrated and my eyes darted to the golden shape that capped the hilt and I also saw the glow of enchantment that flickered over the blade. My eyes widened and I asked, “The gem? Oh my. Bryn that's beautiful.”

He shook his head and pointed at Athlain. “Tell it tae yon lad. He did that work.”

As I reached out with my other sense to taste the enchantment I asked, “He what?”

“Just the naow, before ye came in. He set the spell upon her for ye.”

That explained the words I had heard as we arrived at the forge… And Athlain’s exhaustion, but… I was still very angry with him. So I told Bryn, “I don't want to talk to him right now. I don't know whether to hug him or hit him, so better to do nothing.”

The smith kept his features still, but I saw the sparkle in his eyes as he said, “Aye lass. Ye would know best.”

And besides, I had other things I wanted to talk about. I frowned and shifted Dreamer from one hand to the other, then measured her with my eye.

“The balance is as it was, but the blade is a centimeter shorter. No… wait- two.

Bryn nodded his head and explained, “I am sorry lass. I had ta do tha' ta keep the balance as it was, wi' the ebony and all.”

I carefully placed Dreamer back in her case and bowed to Bryn- with no mockery this time- a true bow, the due of a master. And then I turned to Athlain, who had stood quietly all this time.

“I've never seen anything as beautiful. But Athlain, you cannot ever do that to me again. Not with my blades. You've taken my dagger and now my katana. And although both were taken for good reason, I did not know what those reasons were until after. And so.... well, just please… don't. Not without explaining. Please.”

He placed his hand on his mace and nodded. “You have my word. I did not take Dreamer without thought as to what I was doing, but- it was still wrong to do so without telling you.”

I believed he was sincere, but it was not enough. He needed to understand.

“I had no idea- because you did not tell me- and then you left- without a word. And then, especially after all of my other gear was returned, I was so... so…” The words would not come and the idiot tried to help me! He should have known to keep quiet- just like him- staying silent when he should have spoken, and speaking when he should have been silent.

“Angry?” He supplied.

I growled at him, “Yes! NO! Scared! Scared out of my wits. I will never be as connected to another blade as I am to her. And even when I found out Bryn had her….”

He must have had a death wish, because he interrupted me again, saying, “And that was another reason. No other blade will ever keep you as safe.”

I resisted the urge to hit him; after all, Ahnya was still present. “Athlain, you of all people, the one person I tell ALMOST everything, you know….

“I know you must walk a dark path before we are finished.”

“I don't care about that. If I lose what keeps me connected, then dark or light is irrelevant. I know that sounds extreme, but somehow this blade is the glue that connects my natural ability to my physical self.”

“ ‘Thyna... if not for the Gift, I would have died a hundred times over by now.”

He could be so obtuse sometimes. I shook my head at him and asked, “Don't you think I knew that when I had her created?”

But he was not listening; he was reliving experiences that he had not been able to talk about.

“Worse- I would have been lost to myself and to you.”

He had to hear what I was saying, so I took his face between my hands and forced him to look at me. “I may not have seen all that you have, but I am not ignorant of what exists here either.” I shook him for emphasis. “You will never be lost to me. The day that you tried to die on me…”

He got a little smile, and I was secretly glad to see it. “As I recall,” he said, “You hit me.... Granted, you had healed me first...”

He was thinking about the cabin and the skooma; my memory was of a much earlier time.

“I'm talking about the time the new guar trampled you, silly.”

“Oh well. Only because you insisted on trying to ride him.”

“But your heart stopped. And so did mine. So know this, my dearest friend- when one heart stops, the other will follow.”

His voice dropped to a whisper as he said, “Yes.”

“Everyone made jokes about what had happened, but no one knows, no one- not even you.”

He gave that wonderful, infuriating smile again- the one that might have worked on someone else, but not me.

“Well- I was asleep at the time. Or so it seemed”

“I made a bargain that day. As long as your heart beats, mine will too.” I picked up Dreamer’s case and cradled it to my chest, muttering,

“Thank you for my gift. Don’t ever do it again.”

Bryn broke in at that moment. “This is a' very touchin' I am sure. But this be a forge, nae a tea-party.”

I did not even look at him as I replied, “Go blow your bellows, old man.”

“Come here, lass.”

“No.”

“I feel the need ta hug ye.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want you to ruin your reputation.”

“Aye.”

I sidled over and threw my free arm around his neck. And as he drew me close he whispered so only I could hear, "Keep him alive if ye can.”

I whispered back, “Thank you Bryn, so much. Besides- I am the only one allowed to kill him.”

“Aye weel then. All's well.”

And then I whispered again, “But he will pay for this.”

Bryn looked sternly at Ahnya. “And as fer ye, me lassie, ye needn't speak o' what has passed here.”

“Yes sir Brynjolfr, sir. And what would you be talking about sir?”

He laughed and added, “At least- not until ye be a granny yerself. An' then it'll make a grand story.”

“I can't show my carvings?”

“Oh now as ta tha’, tell it ta any who will hold still.”

“Aye. That I'll do sera.”

“Now clear off ye lot, and let a man do some work.”

With that, Athlain and I walked out the door, our feet crunching on the snow. Ahnya hung back a bit, but my hearing was still good enough to hear:

“They do, don't they Sera Bryn? Even if they don't know it.”

“Oh aye lassie, that they do.”

“I hope someday I find someone like him.”

“If'n ye do lass, hold tight ta him. An' a lucky fella he will be.”

“Should I treat him like she does?

“As ta that, why yes- just so. If he scares off too easy- he be'n't the one fer ye.”

“I knew there was a good reason. I like you Sera Bryn.”

“Be off wi' ye, naow.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

And she laughed as she raced past us on her way to the hall.

I'm not sure whether I've posted before, but I wanted to pop in to mention how much I've enjoyed reading Athlain's story (and his dad's before that). I'm guessing there are probably a few other lurkers who regularly check for updates as well.

Thank you.

I just thought I'd say...

IF YOU DON'T GET BACK TO BLOODY WRITING MY DEAR ATHYNAE THEN I SHALL BE MOST IRKED...IRKED INDEED...SO THERE!!...*Points*...

*Sigh*...

That was truly amazing...Bloody wonderful...

Loved every word...

Now can we please get back to it?... ...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds most heartily*...

@JustinSane- Many thanks for your continued support. Hope you enjoy this next part.

@McBadgere- Thank you, dear Badger. And I am doing all that a small ancient dachshund can to encourage the writing.

---------------------------------------------

Upon leaving the forge, it was all I could do to stay on my feet. The snow looked soft and I was so weary; the distance to the Hall seemed farther than that to the moons, and the stairs to my room steeper than a mountain. Much of that bone-deep fatigue was a product of the major enchantment I had performed, following my forced march to the coast and back. But still more was the tension I had carried since I took Athynae’s sword. Some of that stress had been relieved by her acceptance of Dreamer’s new incarnation- but only some. A glance at her stiff back as she walked beside me was enough to show that our “discussion” was far from over. Fortunately, she seemed somewhat distracted by the sound of Ahnya’s cheerful tone, followed by Brynjolfr’s bass rumbling. Not having Athynae’s elvish hearing, I could not make out the words. However, based on her changing expression, which went from amusement, to annoyance, to disbelief, ‘Thyna could hear quite clearly. Whatever she heard, she chose not to share with me.

When we reached the main hall, she allowed me to open the door for her- a necessity, as she had both hands wrapped possessively around the sword case she clutched to her chest. Once we reached the hall proper, she spoke not a word, nor did she spare me a glance as she swept up the stairs to her room. It was a moment of peace I would have treasured, had I but the wits to have done so. But for the moment, all I could think of was the bed that awaited me, and the promise of sleep- sleep that might last as much as a week or possibly two.

Beyond opening the door to my room, I recall nothing, not even the feel of the pillows against my face. At some point, I thought that a thunderstorm had blown in over Thirsk, but that was foolish; the air was far too dry. Even so, when I finally woke, my skin had a feeling as if lightning had passed over me, very near. Perhaps that was just an after-effect of the enchanting from the previous night. I stretched and prepared to dive back under the quilt when a faint tapping at the door drew my attention.

Ever since my sisters had blessed us with their presence, I had learned to sleep through the most violent disturbances. Fires, floods, or earthquakes would not have moved me; however, the sound of someone moving quietly brought me instantly alert. So, when the light tap of knuckles sounded, I was up and had on a robe before I even realized I had begun to move. Ahnya was at my door.

“If it please you, sir, you had better come down. I am afraid they might- well, I don’t know what will happen.”

I followed her down the stairs and found Athynae and Svenja glaring at one another like a pair of kagouti determining which would get first bite of an unfortunate pilgrim. The mead hall was as quiet as I had ever heard it- the hunters seemed afraid that any sound might draw the attention of the two deadly women- with unimaginable consequences. As for me… one of the effects of too little sleep was that I became dangerous. Not to others- but to myself. With a cheerful smile I walked up and noted:

“Ah- two of my favorite ladies; and with such fine high color in your faces. All is well, I trust? Not fevered or overheated?”

The glares transferred to me, and I continued as if oblivious: “I imagine that you both feel some claim upon my time, and I will be more than happy to accommodate you shortly. But first, I will ask Mistress Ahnya to bring me some breakfast. Sorry to interrupt- I will see you in just a little while.”

And with that I returned to my room, waiting only a few minutes until Ahnya appeared with a tray. I took it from her and set it aside; my request for food had been a ruse… mostly… A worried frown came to the girl’s features and she made as if to take the tray back: “Is it not to your liking, my lord? I can….”

“Peace Ahnya. And my name is ‘Athlain.’ The breakfast is perfect, but we have more important matters at hand. Now tell me- how bad is it?”

The girl twisted her hands together and looked as if she wanted to bolt. But then she seemed to recall what waited at the bottom of the stairs and perched stiffly on the second chair.

“Well, my lord… I mean Athlain, it started like this…”

I was up early, baking the bread, and Mistress Thyna came into the kitchen for her tea. I could tell she did not wish to talk. But- she seemed more sad than angry. Of course if we had not learned to always have tea ready- it would have been easier to tell- angry would have come out well ahead.

And so I tried to watch her without staring- that is an important skill to learn if I am going to be a hunter. She sipped her tea and kept one hand on the case with her sword. Which is beautiful by the way- the sword I mean. Well the case, too. But anyway... she seemed far away, and her lips moved as if she was talking to someone who wasn’t there. But then, when she finished her second cup, she put the mug down firmly. Not slamming it- more as if she had made her mind up about something.

“Then she left the kitchen and started clumping up the steps to the sleeping quarters.” Ahnya looked at me with an expression of uncertainty. “How is it that she can move so silently most of the time and then rattle the floor like a drunken atronach at others? Has she always been that way?”

I bit into the honey-laden piece of bread I held in one hand and nodded, “Yes, she has. It is one of her… talents, I suppose you could say. Please- go on.”

“Well, sir, it seemed to me that as a hunter-in-training, I should observe what was going on around me, so I slipped out to see where she was going. When she stopped outside your door, I almost thought it might be better to hide back in the kitchen. But I didn’t.”

I smiled at Ahnya’s admission of momentary “cowardice;” but I did not laugh. I knew quite well how much fortitude it took to face Athynae when she had decided to release the anger she usually kept chained inside.

“And she stood there a minute, and she looked at Dreamer’s case in her hands, and got this strange smile. But then the smile went away and her face… it was almost as if she became someone else. And then she hammered on your door so hard, I thought the panels would splinter at any second. And she shouted your name and said, ‘We need to practice! Now come out here and face me!’ I think they might have heard her in Skyrim.“

Here Ahnya paused and I offered her a sip from the water jug on my tray. She looked scandalized for just a moment, but then nodded her thanks and took a healthy swallow.

“And then- well, then… Cousin Svenja appeared out of nowhere and it seemed like she just levitated up the stairs. At least I do not think her feet touched more than one step in five. And then she was between Athynae and the door, with her arms folded and a scowl on her face. I could not hear what they said to each other, but she managed to get Mistress Thyna to go back downstairs, and then they really started to argue. I mean, they kept their voices down, but you know how Thyna talks with her hands, and Cousin Svenja has that muscle in her jaw that starts to bulge…. So I decided I had better come and find you before something happened.”

I wondered if there were still dragons in Akavir. If so, perhaps I could march up to one and give her a sharp rap on the snout. After which, I could ask to use her eggs to play a game of kick ball. That seemed a less painful alternative to facing Athynae- especially now that she had been thwarted by Svenja. Much as I appreciated the intervention, I knew it was only postponing the inevitable. Listening to the verbal battle between the two strong-willed women would have been entertaining- if I had not been the subject of contention. That was rather like being the bone in the middle of quarrel between a pair of daedroth- no matter who “won,” I was going to be chewed up. If the Empire still used galley slaves perhaps I could sign up. Or I could go downstairs- after breakfast. The condemned man ate a hearty meal.

This post has been edited by treydog: Feb 27 2013, 03:05 AM

Ah yes, the wonders of being a man with a man's ability to say exactly the wrong thing at exactly the wrong time... ...

Brilliant stuff...



...That made I laugh hugely...

Brilliant stuff Mr Trey sir!!...

Please, much more now please?...

Nice one!!...

*Appplauds most heartily*...

I was still using the obedient servant voice, just not quite as thick with ‘kill you later’ running from it.

Oh yes, I think you got it right.

The scene with Ahnya was just beautiful. So much passed between Athlain and Athynae that didn’t need to be said.


”Stop. This isn't fair.” He had used the entire exchange with Ahnya to disarm me, and he would pay for it somehow.

Athlain seemed about a hundred feet tall in this part. I’m so glad we got to see the return of the katana through Athynae’s eyes.


I could not take my eyes from the ebony hilt, the polished silver edging of the blade, the star-burst rivets, but I had to tell him- it was almost as if Bryn, the great bear of a smith, was pleading with me to release him.

A moment ago she was stomping her foot, but she can still come up with this observation. A perfect example of why I love Athynae.


Bryn broke in at that moment. “This is a' very touchin' I am sure. But this be a forge, nae a tea-party.”

Perfect!


The condemned man ate a hearty meal.

Payback! And so it begins…

First, Welcome back! (That's Cyrodiilic for "It's about time!") Ahnya's character has melded into the story as if she alway was a part of it in both these chapters, but my favorite part was her giving Athlain the tale of Athynae stomping - LOVED that!

My PC started giving me trouble today, it keeps going black and I have to keep wiggling wires and bringing it back up, so I'm keeping this short. Awesome Write!

I'll admit, I haven't read fan fiction in a looong time. You're still a very talented writer and your descriptive nature really helps me paint a mental picture of what is going on.

As usual, excellent work.

Well!

Feel like playing good news, bad news?

Good news - I had all the glorious updates from post 968 to catch up on.

Bad news - I've caught up and there's no more to read.

Good news - The story is better than ever!

Bad news - I've caught up and there's no more to read.

Good news - Athlain and Athynae have become even more interesting characters than they already were, and they were already two of my all time favourite characters.

Bad news - I've caught up and there's no more to read.

Good news - The introduction of characters like Ahnya have helped to show a completely different side to our protaganists, mentoring and encouraging, which nicely offsets the teasing banter they've always been so good at.

Bad news - I've caught up and.... oh, you can guess the rest.

Now, there's still so many threads you've teased us with still, well, teasing us. Trey. Seth. Serene. The prophecy. Hircine quaking in his wolfie boots at what Athynae would like to do to him.

Story. Good. More - pleeeeease?

Oh my Sir Treydog! Todayb i read an email from another forumist....and it gave me an instant urge to pop over here...

And what did I see? MORE ATHLAIN and ATHYNAE! *life is just so good sometimes*

The interactions between those two are just so fascinating...I can see them for my inner eye..I can hear them...
I so love this story....and I second Lord Burnt Sierra

S.G.M

@McBadgere- And there will be more chances for him to put his foot squarely in it- as soon as the end of this post- or perhaps the beginning of the next one. And he will be devoutly wishing for those dragons quite soon also. Our thanks as always for your reading and your support.

@Grits- You capture the heart what I wanted to do with that scene, as Athlain proves he is more than just a warrior. And Athynae shows that she does indeed have eyes and heart for more than her precious blade. And Bryn… what an absolute gift he has been.

@mALX- And now it is far past time- for which we humbly beg forgiveness. And yes- Ahnya just “appeared” and quickly became essential. She will have more of a role, as will be seen quite soon.

@Kiln- You have been bearing with my fits and starts for so long that you deserve a medal for perseverance. And it reminds me of why I want to keep writing. Thank you my friend.

@Burnt Sierra- And another of my longstanding (and long-suffering readers). Many smiles over your good news/bad news litany… And hey- good news! Here is a new post! Better news- there should be 2 more in fairly short order!

@minque- It please me beyond words that you can see and hear Athynae and Athlain- because their chroniclers can too. And we hope we are “getting them right.” So when you say what you did- we KNOW that we are. Thank you so much.

@Everyone- A lot happened in RL to delay this post- and it is as boring as that sort of stuff often is. But- well, we are back- and if the post has been delayed, we only hope the wait has been worth it. Even when we were not writing- we were thinking about writing- thinking about our many friends here- and determined to repay your many kind words with- what else? Words of our own. We hope you enjoy the reading as much as we enjoyed the writing- or maybe- even more.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

I lifted my fist- ready to hammer it into the very center of the door, knowing the reverberating echoes would bounce off the walls. “Get up Athlain Treyson! We need to practice. The sooner we get to it the sooner we can truly be done with this foolishness!” I am ready for this game to be over. I hate feeling weak and that seems to be an endless theme on this horrid island. And I turned to storm down the stairs into the dining hall, only to come face to face with Svenja, who stood with her arms akimbo, acting like a wall. Previous thought on repeat… Her face could have given a thunderstorm lessons in “swirling dark anger with firebolts soon to follow.” Automatically my shoulders went back and my chin lifted as my jaw tightened but I stopped just short of arms reach.

“Did you even take a moment yesterday to look, to truly see the Chieftain when he returned?” Her tone was a combination of mother bear and justiciar. “Or were you so caught up in staring at your precious weapon that you could not see beyond that red circle of anger?” Her lips were pursed tightly and she was tensing her jaw. The number of accusations in those two sentences, along with her tone was not what I was expecting, but then, I don’t know really what I was expecting.

If I wasn’t still so conflicted about my katana I might have had the wherewithal to be afraid, because she looked like she was getting ready to slap me stupid. I decided to allow myself time to gather words to hurl so I shrugged my shoulders and tried to look as if I had no clue what she was insinuating. She ignored my gesture and pointed toward Athlain’s room:

“I took him a meal last evening that he probably does not even remember. He looked as if someone had dunked him in the lake, held him under a tad too long, then put him through the laundry wringer twice.”

Was she really making it my fault that he pushed too hard for too long?

“I cannot help that he pushes himself like that, Svenja. I have tried to tell him but he keeps insisting he is a grown man. So be it. I did not do that to him!”

No one seemed to understand that he had violated something sacred to me; something he knew very well was almost as precious as my heartbeat.

”I cannot believe he did what he did to me! And gallivanting off for some unknown reason and returning with trinkets for Ahnya was a grand gesture for your precious Chieftain. But it does not exonerate him of the offense of theft. He STOLE my katana!”

My voice cracked, which made me sound like an insolent child, but I couldn’t help it; they ALL needed to understand.

“Sometimes you are so self absorbed and then you’ll turn around and do something utterly selfless. It makes me think there are two of you and we never know which one we are going to get until you open your mouth.”

She made me sound like one of those people Mother treated for mental instability. I am not crazy.

“I am sure I do not know what you mean. I am always myself.”

Why was she being so judgmental and mean?

“And right now I could slap that self righteous look off of your lovely face.”

Her high cheekbones were glowing red, so I stepped back just in case she wasn’t being figurative and straightened a little bit more, putting my shoulders back a tad further

“Svenja, I…but he, he just …I don’t understand how he could just take my katana like that. I don’t. WHY would he do that? And why don’t you understand?”

“That precious katana, your weapon. Tell me Athynae, is that katana worth more than his life? Is the weapon he carries worth more than yours?”

Everything swirled in my head about how the what he called the Gift had come to be, my reasons for having Bryn create the one weapon that he had proven himself with, all that the smith and I had done to make sure that it was absolutely the best that is could possibly be because it was the closest I could get to protecting him without making myself his personal body guard. I mumbled something under my breath about “stupid.”

“What? I’m sorry. I didn’t quite hear you. Were you saying something important or were you just acting like a princess again?”

What? I almost stomped my foot but thankfully stopped before I said,

“I do not act like a princess!” Who in the world would ever think that I act like a princess? I do not wear frills and lace, most especially not in pi.. puh… that color; I do not primp in front of a mirror for half the day; and I do not get the sillies. That was one of the few things that lit me up like a skin of naptha.

“Oh yes you do!” She leaned in toward me and narrowed her eyes.

“It is not my fault that I am right! How does that make me a princess?”

She was loyal to her chieftain. She had known me far longer, but as soon as he was named her leader all that changed; that’s what this was all about. She didn’t care what was right or wrong, all she was thinking about was who he was. But she had to see my side; she had to realize I was not wrong here. He broke the laws of best friendship when he took my katana.

“I love you child, but right now I could turn you over my knee and tan your hide.”

I could see the vein in her temple throbbing, but I didn’t care any more. She’s had set the fire so now would come the heat.

“He could have ruined her with his meddling….”

“I have seen you behave in this self centered manner for so long …”

Why didn’t anyone understand? “And then how would I have been able to keep him alive?” I wailed.

“But then you recover and show me yet another quality that is beyond compare. Ahnya practically worships you because of the kindness you showed her.”

“Svenja,” I pleaded, trying to pitch my voice so she could hear me “He could have….”

And again she cut me off and her volume went up enough that she could be heard all the way to the mines.

“Do you think for one second he….” So I not only equaled her volume but I went straight past the mines all the way to Vvardenfell….

“He goes off into the wilderness without thought, he plunges headlong into danger… What am I supposed to do?”

Svenja raised her hand as if she were going to slap me and I shut up and her voice fell to almost a whisper “Do you think for one moment he would have taken the slightest chance with that sword? If you do, if you have even let that cross through that beautiful complicated mind of yours, you are a fool.”

“If something happened to him, his poor Mother…his sisters.” I had made it my life’s purpose to keep him safe one way or another. I had tried to teach him to wield a sword, tried time and again… I had come to his rescue when he had succumbed to the ravages of the skooma, I had commissioned his weapon and worked closely with Bryn to ensure it would do what I couldn’t.

“He would not Athynae, don’t you see that? He would not take a chance with the hairs that have already fallen from your head much less that damned sword.”

“How could I keep my promise if….” I could feel the tears pooling and there was no way on Nirn I was going to let them fall. I clenched my fists at my sides even as she cut me off.

“Athynae have you heard one word? He put your precious blade into the most capable hands he knew to be perfected- not destroyed. He took the same care with YOURS as you did with his- the only way he knew how.”

“Svenja, to fight my best, I have to have the best weapon for ME and Dreamer is that and I thought he understood that, I thought he grasped the enormity of what this katana….” And I reached up to allow myself to be comforted by the feel of the hilt only to see in my minds eye the beauty of her new accoutrements.

“And she isn’t now?” She was glaring daggers through me, waiting for an answer, one that I could not give. So I went back to what I did know, to what I had to get someone to understand.

“But he just took her, don’t you see? He didn’t ask, he didn’t explain what he was doing, he just raided my room and took her.”

“He was trying to give to you a gift no less than you had given him.”

“He just does things without asking. Takes things, runs off and joins the Legion, tries to get himself killed…” I could feel the stabbing of the remembered pain when I found out he was gone, off to Fort Darius without a word.

“Look beyond,” she tried to say. But I wasn’t finished.

“He comes to Solstheim and gets himself appointed Chieftain,” He left without me, he left me behind….

“Ask yourself if he is better for it.” That brought me to a full stop. In that one question, she had defined the problem.

“What?” I was not sure really what she had said, but something registered and it stopped me. “What did you say?”

“All those things he did without asking, as if he needed permission, is he a better man for having done them?”

Well of course he is you ninny! I thought but didn’t say- because I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t ready to acknowledge that the new Athlain was better because I hadn’t let go of the old one yet.

But she wasn’t going to let it go. “Is he!?”

I whispered, “Maybe.”

“Thyna, he had to get beyond asking permission for everything from everyone. He had to get beyond living in the shadow of a great father. He had to prove to himself that he could be a warrior after spending most of his childhood in YOUR shadow.”

That stung like salt in a wound; that wasn’t how it was supposed to be, that wasn’t my intention ever. I wanted him to be a great fighter, I wanted him to shoot a bow, wield a sword, throw a spear- and instead all I had done was drive him away. It was all my fault he was here. And then with me out of the way, he had learned to be a warrior. “But he isn’t the same person anymore, Svenja; he isn’t my best friend anymore. He has changed and I don’t know him anymore.” I was finding it difficult to get my breath, like I was being stifled.

“He didn’t lose himself, Thyna. Just the opposite.”

“Svenja…” She needed to hear me, really hear me but she couldn’t, she didn’t.

“He improved the good that has always been there.” And she raised her hands palm up as she tilted her head, the question unspoken, but clear all the same.

I whispered, “But… but… when did he get that shadow in his eyes; where did the laughter that danced in them go?” That was why we were the perfect complement to each other, he was always smiling, had something funny or positive to say. Even when he was bruised and bloody after sparring, he would say something that kept me from feeling like his personal torturer; when I was being too serious, he would make me laugh.

“Where have you seen this shadow?” Her demeanor had changed from over-protective guardian to the Svenja I had always known, the one that had mended whatever was broken.

“When he came back last night.” My voice had a sadness to it that matched what I had seen in his eyes.

“No, I mean where else, who else carries that shadow?” Flashes of the ones I love most passed through my memory.

“Uncle Seth, Uncle Trey, sometimes Mother.”

“And is it a strength or a weakness?”

“They are the strongest people I know.” But I wasn’t at all sure the shadow was what made them strong, it was just a part of who they were.

“So perhaps the darkness you see comes because that person brings light into dark places. Maybe he has to make difficult decisions for the benefit of others. And sometimes those decisions include going against everything that is 'right' in the safety of your father’s house and doling out justice solely on your own understanding. Deciding who should live and who should die is not something any of those you named ever took lightly, yet they have all done it. And now, so has Athlain.”

“I want to help him, but he won’t let me.” That was all I had ever wanted to do, ever and it was the one thing that I had failed at over and over and over….

“Do you want me to tell you how to help him or are you going to just keep doing it ‘your way’?”

I crossed my arms and decided the least I could do was listen. “Very well. Tell me.”

Perhaps we would have gotten somewhere, but at that moment the subject of our discussion came sweeping down the stairs like… like a king greeting the peasants.

*Blinks eyes repeatedly*...

No...'Course not...It's just early for reading screens...That's all...Yes...Tad under the weather...Yes, that'll be it... ...

Holy crap woman!!... ...

That was the most intensely wonderful thing ever!!...

I know they say that breaks make you better but still...That was unbelievable...Absolute brilliance...

And again, at the same time as being intense and heart-rending, the sheer indignant stubbornness that she is absolutely always right is just so funny... ...

That there is more to come before this section ends is a joy to look forward to...

Absolutely nice one!!...

*Applauds most heartily until his hands reach up and slap his own face*...

...



EDIIIIIITTTT!!!...Having been advised about how much this actually is a team effort...(Oopsie, sorry matey )...It would be most wrong of me to not compliment Trey also for his part in the sheer brilliance that they both bring to the mix, in order that the whole is something truly special, amazing and brilliant...

So...In short...I must also add to my comment, a hearty:

Holy crap, man!!!... ...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

This post has been edited by McBadgere: Apr 19 2013, 01:10 PM

As promised- here is part 2 of this 2-part episode. Somehow I feel like doing the "Let's get ready to ru-u-m-bbb-lllle" wrestling announcement. But anyway- here ya go.

-----------------------------------------------------------

“Ah- two of my favorite ladies; and with such fine high color in your faces. All is well, I trust? Not fevered or overheated?”

He actually said that! When Svenja and I were practically at daggers drawn. All right- fine- not really. But to just sail into the middle of it, as if he did not have a care in the world. And then- then, to put the comberry on the cake, he ordered breakfast- to be brought to his room! Who was this person and what had he done with Athlain? The best thing for me to do at that point was escape before all my ability to control my explosive anger was gone. So I went to my room as well, to prepare. He was going to have to come out eventually, and I would be ready.

I slipped the baldric from my shoulder and placed Dreamer on the bed. I ran my hand down the scabbard and wrapped my fingers around the hilt as I closed my eyes. “Will you sing to me as you used to? Move of your own accord? Know the steps a beat before?” I moved slowly with my eyes closed, twirling my katana like a baton in an exhibition dance, feeling the weight as it shifted, rolling her from hand to hand. Although she felt the same, she also felt different; she was 2 centimeters shorter and the blade was the same metal but felt more dense. The enchantment, though weightless physically, added an… aetheric gravity to what I held.

I sank onto the bed and laid her across my knees, so very beautiful. But beauty did not make the katana deadly. Deadly. All Dreamer had been thus far was my practice weapon, until I landed here…Now her ability to be the deadly extension of my hand would be tested unlike I had ever imagined….

“Are we ready Dreamer? Can we keep him alive? I have heard so many stories about his strength and how he has fought and won against so many but I also know that tales are made bigger by the telling. He needs to be angry with me to show me what he is capable of; he needs to hold nothing back. Is that why I have gone so far off the mark with this? No, I am not off the mark; he stole you then ran. But only to make you better, to help me to keep him alive…. Does he know that?”

After what seemed an eternity, I heard Ahnya’s light step outside my door and I pulled it open. She stopped, holding a tray with the remains of his meal. She did not say anything, just waited as I strapped the last buckle on my armor and shook everything down to get it settled just so. The girl had not done anything to me, so I reminded myself to be pleasant, though it was not easy.

“Ahnya. When you have a moment, would you please ask the Chieftain to meet me on the practice ground? Thank you.”

Perhaps my attempt at not seeming murderous was not completely successful- because Ahnya flinched a bit and then said, “Yes, Miss. I mean yes, Athynae, I will. I believe that is where he plans to be in a few minutes anyway, as he was donning his armor as well.”

She barely stopped herself from making a curtsy, and disappeared back toward the kitchen.

And everything that I wanted her to think of me was ruined, even to the point of her being afraid of me. I had tried so long with Athlain and failed so horribly and now, when I tried to redeem myself, to help someone else in some small way- what happened? I failed before I ever truly got started. That poor girl just needed something to hold onto and I reached out only to let her slide like water through my unworthy hands….

I could feel the ire rising like bile again. What no one seemed to realize was all of the anger, or a good portion of it, was at myself for being such a failure- first with Athlain and now with Ahnya. I pushed that thought aside. Focus. You can do this. You have never been defeated. “Except once,” a traitor thought reminded me.

Well fine then. Yes, the werewolf had bitten me- but it had also died. It had been too long since I had practiced, since before being attacked by Hircine’s lapdog. And besides that, I needed to find out what they had done to Dreamer. I trusted Bryn… I did, but…. I needed to know Dreamer the way I had since I first held her in my hands. Because even if Athlain did not understand it, I knew we were going to have to fight the Daedric prince of mongrels himself. I had to know all that this new Dreamer could do, because that was a fight I intended to win. I would keep Athlain alive, even if I had to half kill him to do it.

So I attached the scabbard to the clips on my back and went downstairs. Athlain was already there, and so were Svenja… and Bryn. The smith’s expression said he did not plan on moving any time soon and he was dead center of the doorway like one of the peaks of Skyrim. When he saw me, he pointed a thick finger at Dreamer’s hilt riding over my shoulder and said,

“Nay.” His eyes were black and his jaw tensed and his voice, though low, was deep and carried a warning like a feather on the first gust of a storm.

He punctuated the flat denial by folding tree-trunk arms across his barrel chest, making himself look even more like a mountain than a man.

“Ye will no be slicin’ nor bashin’ each ither wi’ any weapon I hae crafted.”

Ahnya stood in his shadow, her expression alternating between determination and worry. Apparently, she had more of an idea about my concept of sparring than I had realized. Equally apparently, she had slipped away to bring help. It would have been easier to move Red Mountain than to get Bryn out of the doorway, so I would need something besides force. Keeping my voice low so as to thwart the avid audience within the hall, I reminded him,

“I have not been completely… healthy recently and thus have not been able to practice.”

It was important to start with something that was indisputable. He gave a slight nod for me to continue, but did not relax his stance.

“You also know that it is essential to become familiar with a new blade- before going into combat. And although Dreamer is quite wonderful, she is still… different.”

I carefully avoided looking at Athlain, but I heard him draw a breath. Before he could butt in and ruin everything, I hurried on,

“And there is no point in practicing if I cannot practice against the best opponent available. Since the prospects here are limited…” (There, let him deal with that.) “Also, I need to see how he,” (I would NOT say his name), “fights with the mace. Don’t you agree?”

Bryn raised a hand to rub his bearded jaw and I hid a smile. If he was thinking about it, I had won. Of course.

“What ye say be true lass, and yet,” he paused, is if contemplating a difficult bit of smithing. Pausing was not good; it meant he was thinking too much. “And yet, I stand by me word. Ye’ll no be cuttin’ yerselves nor breakin’ bones wi’ the gifts ye twain had me craft fer the each of ye.”

I just knew he used the word “gift” on purpose; a reminder that I had asked him to create a certain mace to keep a certain… person… alive. Sometimes Bryn hid behind that “poor, simple smith” nonsense well enough to surprise even me. But that would just be my little secret. Meanwhile, he was rumbling on, as unstoppable as the avalanche he was imitating:

“I can see the pair a’ ye are set upon this folly; so be it. But,” he raised a massive paw, “ye shall do it usin’ practice weapons and practice garb, as well.”

He waved Ahnya forward and I finally saw that she held a bundle of white garments that were all too familiar to me- tournament tunics and leggings. Bryn had planned this before I spoke a word- and Ahnya was helping him. Fine! I would just stand on my own, as I always did. But there was no need to make it easy.

“And what makes you think I want or need that extra weight?”

Bryn pretended to misunderstand. He spoke slowly, as if to someone new to weapons training:

“The weapons are made ta leave a mark on yon garb. Tha’ way, there be nae question as ta whether ye have struck or no.”

My tone could have given Lake Fjalding lessons in “icy.”

“I have no need of these… toys. When I hit him, he will know it. And I assure you- it will ‘leave a mark’.”

Bryn folded his arms again. “Ye can spar by my rules- or not at a’. Those be yer choices.”

“Oh… fine!”

“And ye, lad? Be it ‘fine’ wi’ ye alsa?”

“Yes.” The fatigue in Athlain’s voice caused me to almost wince, but he wasn’t getting out of this, just …no. The reasons numbered far beyond what any of the witnesses here would count.

The smith smiled a false smile and clapped his hands together before leading us to the practice area. Once we had gathered, along with a large number of people who suddenly seemed to have business outside the mead hall, Bryn looked at us both from beneath bushy brows.

“Naow we can begin in earnest. Unless ye twain was wishful of arguin’ as ta the color o’ the sky, er which way be ‘up’?”

I bristled at the accusation. "I DO NOT argue. People just... disagree with me until they recognize that I am right. And, for your information," I took the stupid practice tunic from Ahnya and put my arm through the left sleeve, doubling my fist as it emerged to punch Athlain in the stomach, "it's blue, like that bruise is going to be. And," I pushed my right arm through the other sleeve and landed an uppercut to his chin, "that way is 'up'."

He had to realize that I was adapting to the rules of the game as they were played here on this less than civil island. The rules that the Dog Prince had done an ample job of laying out for me. I smiled at Bryn and finished, "And when the chieftain has finished his nap, please let him know that I am ready."

Ooooooohooohoohoohoo.

This will be good.

...That'll teach him to get changed so close... ...

Ooooh, Bryn's such an excellent character...Loved the description of him...

Dear Gods, her self-belief is terrifying...Perhaps it could be used as a new power-source to light the world?... ...

And that whole bit where she tested the sword was gorgeous...

Loved it!...

Another amazing bit of writing...

Looking forward to the next...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

I'm with Burnt Sierra - good news/bad news here! Loved coming back to Solstheim and seeing one of my favorite couples bickering once again with each other. They remind me of certain clients who have been married to each other waaaaay too long!