The Places Beyond Happily Ever After


?If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story.?
--Orson Wells


?And so, we meet again. Is it everything you imagined??

It was some time before ShadoWeaver spoke at all to Koy. The black opal stayed silent when Koy took her from Matt?s desk at the Outback after the Diamond Quest. She said nothing on the car ride home, but then again neither did Matt or Koy. The bruised and battered couple had called a temporary truce over the night?s events but that didn?t lessen the tension between them.

ShadoWeaver did not speak until some hours later after Matt had gone to sleep and Koy took the Opal, still in her box, downstairs to stand in front of the sliding doors leading out to a deck overlooking the beach. Koy had half a mind to chuck the cursed stone into the ocean but she knew it would do little good. For better or for worse their paths would always be linked at the intersection commonly known as Matthew Algiers Simon.

The intrusion of ShadoWeaver?s feminine voice startled Koy. Whereas MoonBeryl sounded like a well-worn sweater on a cold winter day ShadoWeaver?s voice reminded Koy of thorns lurking underneath a luscious rose. She was wary and entranced all at the same time. It was the same way she felt all those years ago when ShadoWeaver offered herself to the elf through Matt.

?And here I thought ye didn?t deign ta speak outright.? Koy could not directly answer the question the Opal posed.

?Matthew and I communicate on a higher level, simple one. You on the other hand do not have the head for such subtleties.? ShadoWeaver did not mask the wry amusement in her voice at pointing out what should have been obvious.

?Thank the Gods fer tha,? Koy snorted in response. She was trying to come off more confident than she felt. She did not know whether to believe ShadoWeaver?s confirmation that she continued to commune with Matt as Koy believed or to assume the Opal was only taunting her.

?You are right to fear me but I do not consider you an enemy.?

?Wha makes ye think I?m ?fraid??

?I am not my brother. I can see whether you want me to or not, Modiarzi.? ShadoWeaver did not have a mouth but she certainly sounded like she was smirking as she threw the Gweth word for ?elf? at Koy.

The invasion into her mind to find the language that belonged to her Elanthian past shocked Koy the way the Opal intended. It reminded Koy how outmatched she was.

ShadoWeaver utilized the silence to let her meaning sink in before continuing. ?We both have an affinity for Matthew. I do not want him to come to anymore harm than you do.?

?I think yer kind of care and concern is one he can do without.?

?Koyliak, you surprise me.?

?Wha?s the matter, I hurt yer feelin?s or somethin??? She continued to put on a brave front.

?No. You surprise me with how small-minded you can be. We can go on with our cold war or we can be allies for our common cause.?

Koy found strength and resolve in her indignation. ?There?s nothin? ye?ve got tha I could ever want or need.?

She slammed the lid over the box holding the Opal and carried her into Koy?s workroom. Koy locked the box inside her desk drawer for the time being ? it wasn?t the bottom of the ocean but it would do for now.

****

?That went well.? MoonBeryl?s smug voice traveled the expanse that kept the Opals forever connected.

?This is only the beginning, brother.?

?Agreed. But you have nothing to offer her.?

?And you must be fooling yourself to think you have any sway over her with so much time and space between you.? ShadoWeaver was quick to cut her brother down with the statement.

MoonBeryl only seemed to feed off of her disbelief. If there was one area where he believed himself to be superior to his sister it was in his knowledge of the inner-workings of Koyliak VanDuran. ?You should know better than to underestimate me so quickly. I have not forgotten the plans we made.?

?And yet you who have no position or power continue to assume I still want you to be a part of them.?

?You need me more than you realize or care to admit. Now stop bickering with me so we can prepare.?

MoonBeryl?s self-assurance would surprise ShadoWeaver. She could even believe for a second that she might have an ounce of respect for her weaker sibling.



((Cross-posted on the RoH Forum))

Run.

His feet struck the pavement in an even rhythm. Heel to toe, heel to toe. Body held straight, muscles relaxed. Arms pumping, hands loose, fingers slightly spread.

Run.

The chill air didn?t bother him. He could feel a slight breeze as it tingled the hair on his arms and legs, brushing gently against his skin. The cold kept him sharp, intent on maintaining pace. It was not unlike the cold from a year ago on a day where the white blood of the sky, falling from black clouds, proved themselves a poingent omen of a mission gone horribly wrong ? one that would keep him from home for far too long. Now, as then, he looked up, opened his mouth, and drank in the offerings from above. Now, as then, the icy flakes, warmed instantly by his mouth, reminded him of life?s fragility. Now, as then, there was darkness, another harbinger of things to come. But this was something infinitely more dangerous than before. She had returned.

His lungs protested against the cold as did his legs against the rhythmic pounding upon the roadway. He did his best to ignore the annoyances conveyed by his body. He couldn?t, after all, let his friend know he?d been right about the retired Colonel?s lack of endurance.

Sartan, the father-to-be-and-exercise-maniac-turned-turret-gun ner, ran just a few feet to right and slightly ahead of Matt. This ?warmup? half-marathon had been all his idea to, as he?d said, gauge just how far Matt had let himself go since his involuntary retirement from the Terran Confederation Space Force.

Run.

With each step, the torrential flood of thoughts buried in the back of his mind came closer and closer to breaking free of their chains. She was unlocking their shackles. She had returned to him, but not as before. This time, she threw herself into the arms of Koyliak. She, in line with the secret plans shared with MoonBeryl and the meddlesome PathFinder, opted for the indirect approach. Neither Matt nor his elven bride truly understood the significance behind the events during and after the fifty-second Diamond Quest. Nor could they see the game was afoot anew. She made sure of that.

Run.

Whether ShadoWeaver?s message was directed to him, or to herself, only she knew. Subtly, with guile and shrewd manipulation, she would get her way. The others be damned. And damn them she would.

Run.

Bound and Blind


"Jealousy is the tie that binds, and binds, and binds"
-Helen Rowland


It had been a long walk home from the Outback that night but not a lonely one.

"You know you give my sister far too much credit with those worries of yours, Koyliak. You seem to do well enough destroying your life with Matthew all on your own." MoonBeryl's honey-dripped voice coated Koy's mind like no time had passed between the estranged pair at all.

Koy stopped in her tracks. She was cold and aggravated. Fighting with Matt about ShadoWeaver had been bad enough but the sudden intrusion of her one-time confidante jarred her out of her thoughts.

"And it's of concern ta ye because?? Don't tell me ye miss me." She fell right back into the constant dialogue the two had shared day in and day out when Koy had held the yellow opal. Despite how on edge she felt there was a strange slice of solace in the familiar back and forth of their once co-dependent relationship.

"Of course. I have missed that charming sense of humor you have."

"Aw now, no need ta go sweet talkin' me ta death. Ye obviously want somethin' so save me the headache and jest spit it out, or do whaever it is ye rocks do since ye can't actually spit." She dug her hands deep into her coat pockets as she stepped through patches of snow still holding their ground.

"I see time spent with my sister has made you forget you once considered me a friend, of some sort at least. What makes you think I am talking because I want something?" But there were no wounds of hurt feelings bared in his voice. In fact, he sounded idly amused, like a cat batting around a half-dead bird.

She snorted. He did not need her to say why.

"Yes, a friend, Koyliak. It is a word elastic enough to stretch and encompass many. We are not bosom buddies, we bear no love for each other but we have a similar distaste and understanding that links us. Friends have been made for less." Moonberyl's tone was so steady it led to the assumption his words must be true.

The soft sigh briefly showed itself in the cold air. It would have gone unnoticed by most but to the Opal it was one of the few things from Koy's mouth he enjoyed hearing. She was begrudgingly accepting his logic.

"So wha is this? The equivalent of ye droppin' on in fer a spot of tea ta catch up and reminisce? Don't ye have a new...friend ta talk ta now iffn yer hurtin' fer conversation?"

She could be so predictable in her train of thought. MoonBeryl was prepared with easily swallowable answers. "Is that jealousy I detect in your tone, Koyliak? As I seem to recall you let me go not vice versa. And while I may be in the hands of another you more than anyone should understand how far past connections can stretch into the present."

He let his words hang in the air and seep in for several moments. Koy continued to stew as she trudged on, turning to take a side road instead of the main one. She didn't want to take the chance of running into anyone she knew. She didn't have the energy to be polite.

"I cannot help but stop to recognize this moment. We spent so many hours discussing it in our time together." He continued to close in on her with his carefully laid out argument.

"Wha moment is tha?" Koy was not ready to let go of the edge in her voice.

"Surely you haven't taken that many knocks to the head to forget. Or have you?" MoonBeryl relished in stringing it out. "I talk about your sharing a roof with Matthew and ShadoWeaver. Though I must admit I had not thought it would occur like this."

"Ye thought ye would be there too." It was what had created their bond. MoonBeryl offered to help her if and when the day came that ShadoWeaver returned to her life with Matt.

"I did." It was a rare bit of honesty from the Opal. "I still do if not in the way originally planned."

Koy finally stopped walking. She would have appeared crazier than usual had anyone seen her talking to thin air. "Wha do ye mean?"

"I made you a promise. I intend to keep it. You have no chance against my sister otherwise."

She shook her head and continued walking then. She even laughed. "Right. Because an Opal is known fer his loyalty 'bove all else."

Now it was MoonBeryl's turn to sigh though he did it for effect. "I said I intend to keep it. I did not say it was because I am indebted to you, did I?"

"No, no ye didn't. Why do it then?" Her curiousity got the better of her. In spite of herself she again felt a strange comfort in the possibility of having him to back her up.

"Has it been that long that you have forgotten me so? Surely you know how I feel about my siblings."

"Ah, so now we come ta the crux of it. This is all an elaborate way ta stick it ta yer sister."

"Something like that, yes." He fell silent and waited for the elf to reach the more subtle conclusion he had planted.

"Wait. Ye said 'siblings'. Ye're not jest talkin' 'bout ShadoWeaver." She snickered and believed she had seen deeper into his motives than he meant to share with her. "Aye, I've got yer number now, bub."

Of course you do, you idiot. MoonBeryl smugly kept the thought to himself as he allowed her to spell it out for his benefit.

"Ye're callin' me jealous when it's drivin' ye mad tha it's PathFinder with us and not ye."

He needed her to reach that epiphany. It would give her less to doubt about why he was still hanging around. Yet there was something stinging in the expected words because they did carry their own truth with them. He should have been above jealousy. He was better than that and better than his siblings. But he hated having to share anything with them, even a thing as stupid as an elf.

"Does it truly matter right now? The point is I am here and I will help you. It certainly looks as if you need it."

She smirked but let the subject drop for the time being. "It does?"

"I hope that is a joke. Maybe you have also forgotten because there is only so much space in that little head of yours but I more than anyone know how long and how desperately you wished for Matthew to come back when he was gone. How many nights I spent being irritated by having to listen to your constant prayers, your pleas for one more chance to kiss him and to be held. Unfortunately I do not have the same luxury of short memory as you do."

She frowned at the unexpected trip down memory lane. Last year had been one of the worst of her life since the year she lost Lirisa. "Wha's yer point beyond showin' me wha a perv ye are fer continuin' ta think 'bout my more intimate fantasies?"

"The point dear child is that you finally got exactly what you wanted and you are well on your way to wrecking it with your own two hands not to mention your impulsive mouth. Do you want to drive him straight to her?"

Reaching the end of the paved driveway Koy stared up at the house the Simon built. The scent of sea salt was in the air and she could hear the waves crashing against the nearby jetties. She saw a light on inside. The house, once a somber mausoleum, was a home again because Matt was in it.

She sighed once more and gave in to the paternal voice inside her head. "Wha do ye suggest I do?" Her past addiction to his fatherly advice stirred to life within her.

"Love him. There's nothing my sister can do to compete with that."

Of Gods and Opals

"The beginning is the most important part of the work" ? Plato


"It took you long enough."

"I see now why you have never made any headway with Koyliak. You do not possess the patience and fastidiousness required to reach her."

"That you need to brag about one lowly elf shows too much of yourself, brother."

"A lowly elf who may be the key to our freedom," MoonBeryl was quick to correct his sister.

"Do you wish me to launch into a litany of all those who have tasted my shadow and stayed? Your lowly elf is merely a vessel. "

"The quantity, not even the quality matters if that 'vessel' is the only one capable of keeping you from what you want most."

The momentary pause served as the only hint ShadoWeaver may have been taken aback briefly by her brother's blunt observation.

"Must I remind you again how little you know--"

"How little I know of your desires?" MoonBeryl was surprisingly quick to cut ShadoWeaver off at the pass. "You are not as cryptic as you imagine yourself to be. I know enough to see the one thing keeping you from whatever freedom you believe Matthew holds for you is the same elf you underestimate and malign."

ShadoWeaver seethed despite her better intention. "You speak as if you are her champion. I would have wished you better taste than to bear such love for a useless girl."

"Neither girl nor beloved is she. This is mere observation and a warning."

"What threat could possibly lay here? You are the one so keen on my lack of patience. You are trying mine, brother, and are dangerously close to making me lose it altogether." She did not need to spell out the consequences any further than that.

MoonBeryl relished bringing her to a breaking point but knew better than to push further. He feigned his innocence but the glee in his voice was hard to hide. "The threat that if we are successful you will only make her tie to him stronger. He will be bound even tighter to her and pulled that much farther out of your reach."

"Let me keep to my own affairs and you to yours." She would not give him the satisfaction of admitting whether or not she had any worry over the point.

"If you two are done now I believe we have work to do." PathFinder interjected and ended the debate. The puppets, lost and tangled up in each other, were almost done with their dance and the opportunity would be gone.

"Fair enough. I am thankful we have reached the end of our foray together."

"This is not the end. This is only the beginning."


****

The Welder and the Work of Wonder

The creation of a singular life is a labor of science, an artistry of the natural order and a matter always accompanied by that intangible variable that can only be labeled as luck or a miracle for lack of more precise terms.

There are many ways to break down the recipe. Take the work at hand for example. This creation requires:

1 Part Male
1 Part Female
A Dash of Spirts - half black, half yellow

The combination calls for the ingredients to be molded, massaged, and manipulated correctly by one with an acute understanding of how to blend and meld them all together. Let them think him a third wheel to the job. The less they understood about his role the better. Black, yellow, elf, human -- all would be marked by a green stamp. He would be everywhere; it was a just reward for his effort no one would ever fully appreciate.

The one ingredient left out of the recipe of course was that spark, that unnameable element so crucial and yet so hard to pinpoint. It did not matter who or what it was attributed to--the piece to remember was that it was the one variable that could not be controlled nor predicted.

The work was done on his end. The lovers spent. His siblings entwined. His spirit imprinted. Everything was in its proper place.

But would they have true success? Only time would tell.

The Ill of the Hunt

A chill wind cut through his clothes, nipping at his skin like a cat?s sharp teeth. His normally ruddy-brown cheeks flushed red from the cold. His lips chapped and threatened to crack as he fought the urge to shiver.

It was a good day.

The biting wind carried his scent to the west exactly the way he wanted. He moved with the calm expertise of someone who?d done this a thousand times before. Half crouched, his legs making large surefooted strides, he used the Langenfirth forest to its full potential as hiding place. His prey would not smell him, would not see him. His left hand gripped the smooth ebony of perfectly shaped and cured wood; his right kept tension on the bow?s thick heavy string. The weight of the bow, its curve and its feel in his hands, was the most natural thing in the world. It gave him comfort. It was something of which he was extremely proud, something he?d crafted with his own two hands long ago.

He?d made one for his sister ? lighter, faster, more suited for her strength, her fingers, the shape of her body as she pressed it close just before loosing a shot. That bow, his handiwork, his gift, had lain for years in a dust-laden case, unused, not quite forgotten but purposely ignored. Part of him couldn?t blame her. Part of him became upset every time he thought about it, the circumstances that caused her to lock it away, the circumstances that still kept her from what he felt was her natural talent, innate abilities she should embrace. He could not change his sister. But he could hope that one day she might return, might realize that the only place she would truly be safe was here. Safe from others.

More importantly, safe from herself.

The wind shifted. He froze mid-step, his left leg hanging in the air, knee nearly parallel to his waist. The leopard took no notice and continued on its path through the trees. Even from this distance, he could see its black nostrils flare as it sought the scent of prey, he could see the glimmer of reflected sunlight and white snow in its golden-green eyes, he could see a long pink tongue as it lapped at the snow, puffs of hot sticky breath escaping into the chilly air. He could see the thickness of its fur, at least two hands deep; soon he would plunge his hands into the soft warmth, run his fingers through the white hairs, carve the skin from its body with practiced ease.

This was wrong; that feeling covered him like a thick blanket. He did not kill for sport. That was not the way of things. But the way of things had gone topsy-turvy. His sister was proof enough of that. The way of things had changed. Something was amiss. The leopard must die.

The animal was unnatural. He couldn?t say exactly why. Overcome with a pressing need to bathe the white fur with the animal?s crimson blood, he lowered his leg into the snow and began to move once more. He followed the leopard, slowly pulling back on the bowstring. This was not sport. This was cleansing.

The animal stepped into a clearing, paused halfway through, and sniffed the air. It turned and cast him under a golden-green stare, curving its mouth into what passed for a smile. He stood to his full height; there was no more need for stealth. The animal stood its ground as he approached the clearing?s edge. He could shoot it from here, it would be easy. Something refused to let him do so. He must wait.

His boldness increased with each step. The birthflowers of spring, barely rising through the half-melted snow, were crushed beneath his boots. The leopard bared its teeth fully, its breath quickening in anticipation of what was to come. He raised the bow and slid his right arm back, tightening the string. The arrow sat calmly in its slot, jagged edges and wicked point poised to slice through air and flesh with the same effortlessness.

Only a few feet separated them now. The tensed muscles in his arms began to protest; the bow was aimed, string taut, but he could not let go. He needed to wait. Wait for what?

The leopard also waited. It watched. It stared at the man and his weapon. It closed its eyes. It let out a guttural roar. Waiting was over. It began to change.

A thick black began to emerge from the animal?s skin, its mouth, its still-flaring nostrils, moving slowly like dense tar until it covered the entirely of its body. The animal reared back, bared its black teeth, its black claws. Its black skin shimmered as the fur began to recede. Moments later, after a terrible disfigurement and reformation, stood before him a man. A man with unnatural skin, black like eternal darkness, like death. A man with haunting eyes, one green, one gold, both of which radiated a bright horrifying glow. A man with unmistakable features.

The air snapped and hissed. A half second later, the perverted form of Matthew Simon crumpled to the ground, the arrow having bored a hole directly between those still-bright eyes. The shooter stood rooted to the ground. He watched as the black seeped slowly into the green and the gold, dousing their color without mercy. He watched as the black pumped and pulsed and grew until there was nothing left but a formless mass, then a mere shadow, then nothing.

Reflections Through Shattered Glass

When panic grips your body and your heart is a hummingbird
Raven thoughts blacken your mind until you're breathing in reverse
All your friends and sedatives mean well but make it worse
Every reassurance just magnifies the doubt
Better find yourself a place to level out

--Bright Eyes


"Any bigger and I'm gonna stop believin' the ground 'xists," Koy grumbled down at the child growing in her stomach. She was searching through her mirrored vanity for a hairbrush and was struggling to see past her belly into the lower drawers. Since that cold winter night when she walked home from the Outback nature had followed her lead: the ice thawed and fed the barren earth, living beings from all walks stirred with spring's call to arms, and summer ripened everything. Now fall was come and everyone had reaped their harvests except for the very pregnant elf.

"Gods 'bove." Koy bent her knees and reached a hand down into the drawer. After rooting around blindly she stood up clutching the wooden panel brush and a folded piece of paper that had been shoved away some months ago.

She set the brush down and opened the paper. Her eyes recognized the handwriting before her mind remembered the note's message.

Halmiral ama tema, Koyla.

Four words in the steady cursive she knew so well told her Beldron was coming even without his signature.

The note had only beaten her brother to RhyDin by a day.

**********

"Come 'gain? I must've misheard ye. I almost thought ye said..." Koy slid off the examining table in Trea's office and waited for the healer to clarify.

"You heard me. You are not ill, Koyla. You're pregnant." Trea was thin and pale the way most Elotheans were but her voice was far from frail when she spoke.

Koy narrowed the infamously intense Aldamiras eyes on her friend. "Tha's a cruel thing ta say and ye know it."

Another Elanthian transplant to RhyDin, Trea had plenty of knowledge of Koy's past to clearly understand childbearing was not a joking manner for the elf. "Step back and open your eyes. Even if you do not have my way of seeing you have all the telltale signs. This is not a cold nor a bout of nausea. Pregnancy is not only a possibility for a woman in your phase of life but a distinct reality for you now. I would not toy with you so."

Koy sank down into a chair next to the examining table and lowered her head. She sprawled her fingers over her flat stomach. "But how? We were careful..."

Trea placed a cool hand against the side of Koy's face and lifted her chin up. "Nothing is foolproof makro. The Gods have found cause to outsmart your precautions."

**********

She would later add it to the long list of things in life she felt guilt over but Koy did not take the discovery of her pregnancy as a blessing or gift from the Gods. The news hung heavy on her patchwork heart. She did not rush home to share it with her husband; in fact she waited days until she clued him in at all.

When Koy felt herself unraveling she turned to the rings to anchor and relieve her. This time was no different. It took her husband catching her in the act to finally yank her off the destructive path she was starting on.

Add endangering the welfare of her unborn child to that list.

The frantic letter she wrote her brother also did not carry any joy home to Langenfirth with it. She went on in great detail for three pages about every other matter in her life save for the one that occupied all of her thoughts. Only in the last sentence did she divulge that she was indeed with child.

Beldron needed nothing else to hear his sister's distress.

Koy shot awake gasping for air. Next to her in a deep sleep Matt went on dreaming. Her poor husband not only needed to deal with one self-destructive VanDuran but tonight he had had the misfortune of butting heads with her overprotective brother. Beldron had found Matt at the Outback before he could find Koy at her shop.

Smoothing back the stray hairs clinging to the side of her clammy face Koy threw on her bathrobe. She made sure not to disturb Matt when she slipped out of their bedroom and moved into the kitchen.

Her brother was already in the kitchen, his broad back to her as he bent over the countertop looking through the various square tins Koy kept there. A kettle was on the stove.

"Iffn ye're lookin' fer the lemon balm, it's in the last tin on the left." She did not need to ask what he was doing. As far back as Koy could remember their mother had always made them tea with lemon balm whenever they found it hard to sleep.

He did not turn around to face her. He found the gentle scented herb and pinched the crushed leaves between his thumb and forefinger before sprinkling it in his tea. He poured a second mug and repeated the act.

"Mama 'lways did say 'go ta bed mad, stay up sad', didn't she." Koy was not questioning her brother. She was trying to rub his nose in his sleeplessness even though she too was plagued by it without having had an argument that night.

Beldron finally moved to stare at his baby sister, glaring at her. His voice was gruff when he spoke. "Don't blame me fer gettin' inta it with tha obtuse husband of yars. He's got no clue wha this..." The concern creeping back into his tone cut off the sentence.

"Wha this could do ta me ye mean ta say?" She sounded resigned to the thought. She knew what it could do. It was the reason she had waited so long to tell Matt she was pregnant in the first place.

Beldron handed her the second mug with a sigh. "Ya know I'd like nothin' more than ta have 'nother addition ta the family, Koyla." He sounded softer and sincere. "It's not even about yar hideous taste in men. It's tha ya didn't choose this on yar own."

She cradled the mug in both hands but did not drink. The forest-green eyes took in his expressions when he spoke and she considered her brother in a different light, one that Matt might never fully see to understand the root of Beldron's disdain for him. "We can't hold the sins of others 'gainst 'em, Beld. Ye know better than tha." Koy wasn't the only one who had suffered from the betrayals of her past lovers. He bore little love for Redd but Beldron had taken Mikal in as a true brother. Mikal cost Koy her only child and a husband; Beldron had lost his niece and his confidante. To make matters worse, Beldron could not grieve too much over the loss -- he had his sister to glue back together. It was no wonder his distrust manifestated in such anger towards Matt. He could not afford to get too close again. Although he would never say it outloud he was afraid of the pain and disappointment that would come from it. It was an additional trait the VanDuran children unfortunately shared.

"As fer the choosin'..." her words trailed off and disappeared into the mug when she took a small sip of the citrus smelling tea. She felt the lumps return to her throat whenever she thought about her greatest guilt. She shouldn't have to find a way to cope, to deal, to understand why she had been given what should only be considered a gift. She remembered how Stick felt when she once believed she would never have children. There were women, good women, wanting nothing more than to bear a child. Who was she to spit in their faces and those of the Gods?

Beldron could read her like an open book. The way her eyebrows knit together and her mouth hardened gave her away. "It's not wrong fer ya ta worry, Koyla. Wha with Matt havin' disappeared on ya the way he did last year, there are 'nough similar signs ta make ya think history could repeat itself."

From someone else's mouth this might have been the beginning of an argument to convince Koy that while her fears were warranted they were unneccessary. But Beldron did not disagree. Pinning her hopes on the wayward pilot turned politician seemed like another choice in the string of poor decisions his otherwise bright sister continued to make.

"But he came back." She quickly came to her husband's defense. Whatever she might fear about him leaving she would not stand to hear someone else, even her brother, doubt him.

Beldron raised a hand to show he would back off on that point, for now. He had enough tense words with Matt already that night and knew it would do no good to fight with his stubborn sister about it when there were bigger problems to address. He took the softer tactic again. "Ya can do this, I know ya can. Let me help ya. Come home with me and let me and Isa look 'fter ya..." like we always have was the unspoken end to the plea.

She sighed. "This child is only half mine, Beld. Our life is here." The reminder more gentle than her previous reproach had been.

He shook his dark-haired head and fixed her with the green eyes that matched her own in intensity. "Aye, yar life is here with a man who doesn't know the depths of yar fallout." The razor-thin words cut the way he meant them to -- he believed the cruel recall to how she tried to end it all in that Riverhaven inn so many years ago was needed.

She set the mug down on the counter and pulled something small out from behind the stack of tins, closing her fingers around it. "My life is here with a man who gives me wha I need even when it counters wha I think I want." She stayed firm in her resolve and walked towards him touching a hand to his wrist.

"Without 'em, I'm as good as dead." Barely above a whisper when she said it, Koy slipped the object she carried into her brother's palm. The smooth piece of new jade had been carved in the shape of a nightingale, a charm frequently sold at Elanthian temples in honor of Phelim, the God of sweet dreams. "Sleep well, naroden."

Koy left her brother and the kitchen hoping to do the same.