Martial Preparations IV

[Moonitic]

Moon sighed. "I thought so too. Once." She paused. "But how do I know the same fate won't befall me?"

[Swordsman]

"You turned to me only a few minutes ago," Nækos spoke. "You turned to me, and looked to me for protection. Yet I have done much worse than he, many times. The same fate befall you? You should know how worthless a question that is. You cannot think to compare yourself to two assassins who tried to kill you, and his father, who ordered it. He hated them, and killed for love of you. He loves you. And right now, you are killing him."

[Moonitic]

Moon growled, almost inaudible. "Damn you." Her heart took a hit (& it felt like her head did as well), but now it was a battle of wills. "What else do you have for me?"

[Swordsman]

"I have a question," Nækos answered. "To which I would like a truthful answer. You know the truth of what I said. So, why not?"

[Moonitic]

"I will not marry because I 'have to', to keep up appearances. Face it. I do not want to marry in such a short amount of time. At this point you'll have to take me to the altar, bound & gagged." Moon answered. She regretted the words the moment they flew from her mouth. Oh well, no going back now!

[Swordsman]

Nækos sighed again, something he was beginning to get in the habit of. "Have to? Nobody has yet said you have to. But we are running out of time. Would you have him go off, seeking dragons, returning probably to war - without marrying him? Would you run the risk of having a bastard child? For what? A little pride?"

[Moonitic]

"I told you I didn't care what anyone said." At this point, she was determined to remain impossible, despite the fact that he made sense. She'd never let him know that, though. She bit her lip, resolved not to say another word.

[Swordsman]

"I told you, you are out of time for selfishness. I know you don't care what people say about you. But that is a child you carry, not an object. And someday that child will be royalty. Will you mar his or her name, for a few minutes of your own pride?"

[Moonitic]

Moon simply rolled her eyes & tapped her foot. What was it he had said about the war? No kingdoms...something like that. What would a bunch of people on the run from a blood thirsty enemy care about a marred name? He'd have to come up with a new tactic if he wanted to get her to change her mind.

[Swordsman]

After a few minutes' silence, Nækos spoke again. "You could always wait and deliver the child, unmarried. I suppose Arcon would love to have another heir to raise in his household."

[Moonitic]

"I have considered that," she stated, still unmoved. At least, not on the outside. Inside, she felt a stab of pain at the thought that she might not see her child grow. But what would an unmarried woman do with a child? She'd most likely run off to fight in the war, anyway. At least the baby would be cared for. She'd give him to Zelda...

[Swordsman]

"Very well, then," Nækos nodded, moving to take a seat. "You can go. I suppose things are concluded. You have your bastard child, care for him from far behind the lines during the war. Years from now, when it's finally over and your child has grown to know and love you, you can turn him or her back over to Arcon, who will be done fighting by then. Then you can go live happily, still single and childless, and not have to worry about the lonely king of Muu who has no heir."

[Moonitic]

"Fine."

She threw her head up & spun around, grasping the door handle. For a brief second before she left, she looked over her shoulder to Meekal, who watched her with a great longing & sadness. Moon bit her lip, & exited the cottage, pulling the door shut behin her. She began to make her slow, sad trek up to the castle, hating herself in that moment. But she would not see Nækos receive any satisfaction if she returned.

Meekal looked at Nækos. Tears in his eyes, he said, "Why did you let her leave? Please, please end this!"

[Swordsman]

Tæbryn put her arms around him. "I cannot end this," Nækos told him. "Her pride is overruling everything else at the moment. She will come around. And when she does, you will be deafened just from her apologies."

"But..."

"But what would you do? Would you chase her down right now, beg on your knees? She looked at you a moment ago. She saw you as you are now. And her pride will not buckle, even at your begging. I love her dearly, and know you do even more. But you must understand that she has a propensity for being prideful, stubborn, and selfish - at the cost of anybody or everybody else. Hopefully, someday, she might begin to understand this. Do you know that in all the times I have fetched her back from kidnappers, et cetera, she has never once bothered to say thank you? The royalty threw a ball in honor of my force once, and yet the one rescued never did say thanks."

The Swordsman calmly leaned back, putting his feet up on the table before him. "I am sorry to tell you, but for now you must wait. There is nothing else you can do. If you like, I have found chopping wood to be a good stress reliever."

Tæbryn looked sheepishly at him. "About that wood..."

"We'll find something for you, anyway."

[Moonitic]

The door slammed open again, causing everyone to jump to their feet. "I hate you," Moon snarled at Nækos as she stood in the doorway. "and thank you. For everything." Then, she ran to Meekal, throwing herself into his arms. She grabbed his head & pulled him into a dozen kisses, whispering through her tears, "Of course I will marry you!"

[I admit defeat...THIS time]

[Swordsman]

I am VICTORIOUS!!

[Moonitic]

grr...get back to the story...

[Swordsman]

"Marvelous." Nækos deadpanned. "We leave first thing in the morning, which means the ceremony needs to be tonight. I will let the lot of you work out the details; if you'll excuse me..."

He vanished quickly out the door, into the gathering gloaming.

[Moonitic]

"Uh...we'll wait outside," Senyik mumbled. He & Darion grabbed Tæbryn on their way out the same way Nækos left, despite her protests. "Excuse us," Senyik said as he pulled the door shut behind him.

Alone, Meekal looked to Moon. He cupped her face in his hands, drying her tears with his thumbs.. "Do you really mean it? You want to marry me? Tonight?"

"Yes, Meekal. I'm so sorry I treated you that way. He just makes me so mad sometimes..." She paused to collect her thoughts, & to take a deep breath. "I'd marry you right this second if the officiant were here."

Meekal laughed. "That's good to know." Once again, his joy had returned, but when she bit her lip & frowned at him, it teetered on the edge of another breakdown. "What is it?" he dared ask.

"Tomorrow. They're leaving to go on the dragon hunt. Are you...going with them?" she asked.

"I thought about it."

"Meekal! The morning after our WEDDING?" she exclaimed.

"Well...I didn't know we were going to be married that soon," came his weak return. "I wanted to go to prove myself to you."

"You don't have to, Meekal. I'm the one who should be proving myself to you." She buried her head in his chest as he stroked her hair. "Please, don't go. What will I do if anything happens to you?"

"We can worry about that later. For now, we have tonight." He began to steer her toward the door, arms still encircling her. "Let's get you back home so you can get cleaned up." As they exited the cottage & walked along, he mused, "I knew you'd concede. You're not as tough as you think you are, though it would have been funny to see you brought to the altar bound & gagged..."

"It's not to late for that," she said, the old feelings of fear beginning to creep upon her once more.

"Don't tempt me."

After a pause, Moon said, "So...wanna run away?"

[Crin Dalmeiier]

Unaware that any battle, cosmic or not, was going on or had concluded, Crin was seated in Talmour and Falcour's room, fighting off her inner demons long enough to meditate. Meditation had been a relaxing trick she had learned on a mission to kill the leader of a certain Phætus, a country no larger than 300 people that still managed to pose a threat to Zarconia. She had braided another victorious thread around her ankle bracelet for that mission. Luckily, that bracelet was lost at sea, cut off by her own knife in a fit of all-consuming madness.

She sat perfectly still on the cot, legs crossed over each other, hand resting loosely on them. Her posture was perfect, her breathing perfectly even. To most, she would have looked perfectly calm, but the tight expression on her face spoke the truth--she was far from meditation. Her mind was trapped in the past, following her haphazard steps to attack the High Priestess of Russland. If only she hadn't failed at that mission. Perhaps the war could have been prevented.

So deep in her memories was she that she did not hear the sound of the door opening, nor of footsteps approaching. Luckily, Falcour was smart enough to foresee a struggle on her part and kept both of his hands, although Crin did put up a fight when he dropped a hand on her shoulder. The short fight ended up with Crin dangling about half a foot off the ground as Falcour pinned her to him. “You should know better,” she snarled at him, a little more than annoyed at being startled yet again. “Am I going to have to make you wear a bloody bell?”

Falcour studied her face for a moment before he set her down. She sat back down on the cot and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and resting her chin on her left knee so that she wouldn’t have to look at him. However, he wasn’t having any of that—he tipped her chin up with one finger, studying her intently. “Anything to stop whatever was causing that frown. What’s on your mind?”

“I was meditating,” Crin said, a little more than annoyed now. More than anything in the world, she hated being sneaked up on.

“Well, it didn’t look very peaceful to me,” Falcour told her, retracting his hand at last and retreating to his own cot to sit down. “Tell me, what’s bothering you?”

“It’s nothing, all right? Kreump sent one of his men after me today, but I dealt with him.” Crin’s entire form tensed; she had known there was going to be a fight over this, but she had been hoping to avoid it for at least another half-hour.

“Dealt with him how?” Falcour’s voice was sharp. “Did you kill him?”

Crin glared at him. “What if I did?” When it was obvious that he was not going to answer her question, her glare deepened into a furious look. “You don’t understand that I was raised to kill. I’ve killed before. And did you somehow miss the fact that there’s a giant WAR coming? I somehow doubt that my latest kill isn’t going to be my last.” She sprang from the protective curl on the cot, already a spitfire of movement. “Falcour, I don’t need this. You don’t have to check in on me every five minutes or try to cheer me up whenever I frown! In case you haven’t noticed, I got slammed by a lifetime of memories the other day. Just…let me be upset for awhile. Everything is not hunky-dory in the land of Crin.”

“Oh, so you think wallowing is the best idea now?” Falcour snapped, his temper finally breaking in the face of her anger. “Get over yourself for one second, Dalmeiier! Why are you fighting so hard to keep me away? Are you just determined to rob your life of everything worthwhile so you can wallow in your own misery?”

Crin stopped dead in her tracks, her body shaking. The dam of anger and frustration that had been building up over three days was threatening to burst into a thousand pieces and leave nothing but her raw and exposed soul behind. She wanted to reach for her knife, but her hand remained curled in a fist. She had grieved for her brother, but now the anger at her circumstances was about to consume her. She was slowly getting the feeling that she just couldn’t win. “Go away.” Her voice was guttural and strained, and her teeth were clenched. She wanted to beat something, and she knew that Falcour couldn’t take her in a fight. Not for very long.

He reached out and yanked her around so that she was facing him. “No.” Crin swore at him and he relaxed, only fuelling her anger to a furious burn. She nearly took a swing when he started laughing. “I should have realised it before. You’re angry and you’re looking for somebody to fight with to take it out on. Well, I’m not going to be that person.”

“I hate you,” Crin snapped viciously.

Falcour’s expression didn’t change. “No, you don’t. You hate that you can’t hurt me like you want to. C’mon.”

Did he not understand that she wanted nothing more than to throw something sharp at him? Crin stared at him in angry disbelief. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”

“Yes, you are, actually. You’re taking a walk.” Crin struggled, but he still managed to haul her to the door. “And you’re going to work off some of that steam before we leave tomorrow. And during dinner, we are going to sit down and work out an agreement because I am not letting you get away this time. Last time, I had to cross an ocean and three countries before I realised I was still crazy about you, and I don’t intend to make that mistake again.”

Crin just groaned, but gave in, seeing as she wasn’t going to get anywhere past his stubborn barrier.