Athynae's Responses-

Thank you all once again for your continued support, it means so much to me!!

@McB- Thank you, as always, I am so glad you liked it. Yes, it was intense, it was intense to write as well...but maybe she'll be on the up side of it now...Oh, and aren't we the most hateful to the ones we love or is that just me?

@mALX- Thank you for you support, as I said in the alternate universe, from my beginning here not so long ago. Athynae has become as real to me as she can. It is just "there" what she will think, say or feel in any given situation...at first it was really weird, now I love her, she is my alter ego...hehe (maybe)

@Grits- You also have been here pretty much since Trey wrangled me into this, thank you so much. And yes, of course she would ask Azura to keep him safe, hopefully after the healing as well....

@Black Hand- To get a jaw drop from you is a compliment indeed! Thank you for reading, thank you for allowing Seth to be such an integral part of Athynae, and THANK YOU most for continuing your story...

@Minque- What to say to you? Thank you for creating Thyna in the first place, thank you for allowing me to develop her and helping me to keep her where you want her to go. And Thyna says she needs more journal AND SOON!!!!

@Olen- Your input, coupled with your attention to detail, are anxiously awaited as soon as Trey puts up one of my segments. You see things that occur just because they were supposed to not because I planned them, and you see Athynae, I think, almost as completely as I do. There is a depth to her that is far beyond what the average person sees. Thank you so much for ALL of it. And fear not, you will get Athlain's POV but as you said, if we had done that one first it would have taken away some of the intensity of Thyna's POV. And you were right about the caps but that said, they were yelling at each other at the top of their lungs for most of the post...just sayin...

You guys are the best!!! Thank you, thank you!!!

Where we are- Athlain has returned with the potion- and with a story of deception and horror. This section will pick up from his perspective- and (nod to Olen) there will be a later retelling in more detail of the events with the false Glenmoril Wyrd. But- not yet.

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

Athynae had said all she intended to- I recognized the tilt of her chin. If necessary, she would wait until the moons crashed into Nirn- or until I conceded. So I nodded once and handed her the precious vial, filled with the mixture I had created. As I did so, I resisted the impulse to let my fingers brush against hers; she was as taut as a bowstring and would not react well. I also knew more of her thoughts- her fears- than she realized, so when I stepped to the entrance of the cave, I never turned away from her. When I reached my chosen post, I faced her unblinking.

She had seen me walk away too many times- more to the point, giving her my back then, as she struggled against the disease and against Hircine’s insidious prompting, would be an insult. To her tortured mind, it would seem as though I was making light of her fears. More than the disease itself, she was paralyzed by the thought that she might kill me. And there was another reason, one that I kept hidden. I had to be able to see what happened when she finally took the potion, and it was not because I believed the ordeal of the healing would drive her into a maddened frenzy that I would have to fend off.

No, I knew something that she could not admit, could not risk. No matter how well I had practiced my alchemical skills, no matter how great Athynae’s strength of will- a healing of this magnitude required still more. In a Temple or Chapel, a circle of healers would have supported and strengthened one another, as well as the patient. All ‘Thyna had was herself- and me- and the word of the goddess I had never truly wanted to believe in.

We stared at each other for an eternity, neither able to form words that had more meaning than the feelings that flowed back and forth. At last, she closed her eyes, and I heard her voice in my mind:

I will always love you.

Then she pulled the stopper from the vial, raised the silvery potion to her lips, and drank. And I- I watched as her lovely face contorted in agony, as her limbs twisted and her muscles writhed beneath her skin. She fell to the ground, with her jaw clenched tight to hold in the scream that wanted to escape. And still I waited, watching as her eyes went from lavender to red, to yellow, and back again to lavender, before closing tight. Terrible spasms racked her body, but through it all, she remained silent and I held my place, until I thought I could stand it no more, and a calm voice, a voice of starlight and of unknowable love, spoke from everywhere and nowhere, telling me:

NOW! Go to her. Lay your hands upon her and conduct my spirit into my chosen vessel.

I did so, seating myself behind her and pulling her close against me. I held her then, not flinching as my hands became wreathed in a blue glow, nor as my beloved Athynae convulsed beneath them. Time stretched forever, and still I maintained the contact. At last her breathing slowed and I slipped her silver dagger, the one I had taken when I left, back into her boot. She seemed to almost smile then and murmured:

“Thank… you.” There was a long pause and she added, “Kill… you.”

She curled onto her side, falling into a peaceful sleep, and I noticed something else. Where there had been a constant murmur of her thoughts in my own mind, now there was silence. Fear gripped me and I held my bracer before her lips and was relieved when her breathing fogged the polished surface. But- why could I no longer "hear" her?

She neither spoke nor moved throughout the long day. I held her most of that time, letting go only long enough to dip cloths in cool water and place them on her brow. The sun was dropping below the horizon, and dusk was nigh when she at last stirred and asked, in a dry whisper:

"Athlain...?"

"Yes ‘Thyna? What do you need? I will do anything."

"I would really like a cup of hackle-lo tea." She reached a hand down and touched the hilt of her dagger and closed her eyes again, saying, "Then I am going to kill you."

“But- I thought the tea.... moderated your homicidal impulses?”

“Only in the morning. It isn't morning, and you almost argued too long.”

“Yes- well, I think I should go and.…”

“You really should just listen to me.”

“Gather some wood…”

“And do as I say…”

“Yes- that's it. Wood and-- and--- water. Can't have tea without water.”

“Make sure and bring me a really long stick to beat you with, as soon as I am able to pick it up.”

“My dear 'Thyna, you could not beat a scrib just now.”

“Then it will just have to wait.”

“Yes dear. It will be as you say.”

“Ooohhh! I hate it when you do that!”

And she picked up a rock and threw it in my direction, but it only traveled a few feet. She fell back into the bedroll, exhausted from the effort. I put water into the small kettle and hung it over the fire, waiting for it to boil as I watched her watching me. When it was ready, I poured the water over the hackle-lo leaves, straining the liquid into a cup, which I offered to her.

“Drink your tea now. It’s good for you.”

She turned her head away and tugged at the blanket, muttering:

“I don't want any tea. I want you to go away.”

“Now, now. There’s no need to be fussy.”

“I thought you were going to get wood.”

“We have enough for now; I can get more later. Please drink this.”

“Ooohh! Why can you never do as you are told?” And then she took the cup from me and in a voice tinged with some of her old sarcasm, cooed, “Yes dear. Whatever you say dear. I love you dear.”

I ignored her jibes and said mildly, “Some tea will fix you right up. And then you can rest, after which you can pummel me to your heart's content.”

She held the cup but still did not drink, so I folded my arms and looked at her, waiting. She looked back, trying for an expression of innocent incomprehension, but her tired features were not up to it. She set the cup aside and threw herself down amongst the blankets again, growling:

“UGH! I’m tired. I'm going to sleep. Leave me alone.”

I picked the cup up and wrapped her fingers around it and told her:

“AFTER you drink your tea.”

She bolted back upright, nearly spilling the liquid, her eyes ablaze with the light of battle.

“Excuse me? Was that some kind of command?”

“If you like.”

“No, I don't ‘like’. You can't tell me what to do, sera. Now can… I… go… to… sleep?”

“Take the cup. Drink the tea. Please? For me?”

“FINE. Give me the damn thing, then go away.”

“Of course. It is in your hand. And- no.”

She finally drank her tea, after which she stuck her tongue out at me. Recalling a phrase my mother had used when I was being a difficult patient, I noted:

“Good, it’s not coated.”

Her eyes crossed as she looked at me, almost as if she thought I was the one with the fever.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Your tongue- it isn’t coated- that is supposed to be a good sign. I looked when you so kindly stuck it out for me to examine.”

Her sarcasm came back full force and she grumped, “So happy I could accommodate. Now I just want to read….” She stopped abruptly and tried to stand, only to collapse back into the blankets. She grabbed my arm and gripped it tightly.

“Oh no, Athlain. My pack, my things, they are still at the cabin.”

I put her apparent panic down to the after-effects of the healing and tried to speak in a soothing tone:

“Yes they are. And they will be safe there.”

She shook my arm and hissed, “Mother’s journal….”

I moved to fix the blankets and told her, “Tomorrow.”

She was going on, her agitation growing worse, “Uncle Seth’s journal. I cannot lose them. Please Athlain.”

“So- let me understand this. You...want me to go- in the dark, with werewolves prowling, to get your.... books? We already discussed this.”

She had huddled down into the blankets, her eyes huge as she stared at the darkening entrance to the cave. But she had not given up; she was mumbling to herself:

“How far away are we? Surely I didn't wander too far.” But then my words broke through and she exclaimed, “Books?”

Ignoring the violence her expression promised, I asked, “And you honestly think that I will leave you? Really?”

“You're right. I’m sorry.”

That was a warning sign to anyone who knew her, and I grew concerned. “Lie still, I need to see if you have a fever.”

She closed her eyes for a moment and murmured, “I just think, now that I am cured, you could….” Then as I tried to touch the back of my hand to her brow, she slapped it away. “Stop that.”

“You never give up so easily. So- I was worried.”

“I am disoriented. But whatever happens- Athlain…” Her eyelids dropped again and she stifled a yawn with her fist. I sat behind her again and held her as I had while the potion worked its magic. She put her head back against my chest, but was still fretful.

“I cannot lose those journals. I can’t!”

“Shhh.”

“You don't understand.”

“Rest now. Tomorrow. I promise.”

Still not opening her eyes, she burrowed deeper into the blankets and mumbled, “Mother brought her journal to me at your house and just left it for me to find, and I read until I couldn't anymore. It was too hard. And there were things in Mother's journal about Uncle Seth, so I thought maybe if I read his it would be easier.”

“ 'Thyna, I know this is important. But- it is more important for you to rest. Please?”

“I'm so tired.”

“Let me wrap another blanket around you. There. Better now?”

“There are potions at the cottage too. I can hear your heartbeat.”

I began to hum a quiet song from our childhood, one that I had learned from my mother. It seemed so long ago.

“That's the song you sang when I fell out of the tree and Aunt Baria couldn't find Mother to come heal my arm. It's nice.”

"Rest now my child."

"Sleep and dream."

"The stars and the moons,"

"See you sleeping."

"Rest now..."

That's reet good there m'friend!!... ...

It reminds me so much of Han and Leia for some reason..."I am not a commitee!!" springs to mind...

...

Aaamywho...Excellently done...Beautiful writing...

*Applauds heartily*...

Nice one!!... ...

Whew! She's healed !!! Great Chapter !! I saw a lot of places to quote, but this is my absolute favorite:

The cure. There were warnings of a great cost before hand, although we don't know everyting I suspect its been one Athlain was willing to pay. Assuming it has been fully successful it has caused changes rather than cost. The first mention of love between them and various shifts in the dynamic of their relationship. They're still very definatly the same people (the argument after the healing was enough to show that) but how they interact has changed.

Another change might be in Athlain. His beleif in the gods is rather set now, he can still ignore them certainly though given that he has asked for aid whether he will see a certain hypocracy in doing so remains to be seen.

Athlain's surprise at winning the argument was priceless. It illustarates my above point but also... well it sums them up really. It also put me in mind of the phrase: 'If a man speaks in the forest and there's no woman to hear is he still wrong?'

I wonder what will happen next, and how complete the cure is.

I just love how you wrote the werewolf aspect of the tale. Never seen a better story written during the Bloodmoon.

I beg to differ. Werewolves in ES aren't really evil.

Ohhhh.....I'm closing my eyes, hoping for Thyna to be recovered when she wakes up. But how efficient is the cure? Gah, for Athlain's sake let it be potent, let her be ok again. I mean she must be special, being the first child born after the blight!? Besides she's a child of mixed spirits, Imperial and Dunmer....who knows what features that mixture will yield!

Keeping my fingers crossed for her.....

I’m guessing from the return of Athynae’s dagger and the retreat of her thoughts from Athlain’s mind that the cure is complete, at least as far as Athlain will know. Their arguing shows that they’re the same people as before this ordeal, but there’s also the new element between them. I wonder how they will adjust.

I also wonder how they will react to whatever secrets Athynae might learn from the journals. I’m interested to hear what Athlain has to say about what he went through for Athynae, both with the witches and as the conduit for Azura’s healing. Resolving this crisis has only drawn me in more!

@McBadgere- My thanks. Fortunately- whatever may be revealed- there will definitely NOT be a “by the way- meet your sister” moment. Athlain shudders and adds- “I already have TWO of those!”

@mALX- Thank you so much. And that short line is perhaps the summation of Athynae.

@Olen- Your perceptions are quite gratifying and amazing- as always. You are exactly right about the concept of “rebirth through ordeal.” For Athynae- it was the healing itself, which effectively altered every cell of her body. For Athlain- it was the search and the necessity that drove him to ask for- and accept(!)- Azura’s help. Some of the changes will be apparent- others will be revealed at the same pace with which I write- glacially… I cannot tell you how much your careful reading and thoughtful replies mean to us both.

@Darkness Eternal- WELCOME! Both to the forums (I have started your most excellent story and will comment soon)- and to this little piece of madness I laughingly call “something to do in my spare time.”

@minque- More about the cure will be forthcoming- but… not yet. And we will be seeing more about Athynae’s unique heritage in upcoming posts, as well. And- this is as good a place as any to again say- THANK YOU. For being one of my first readers- for staying with it for all these years- and for letting me hijack the lovely Athynae for my story.

@Grits- You touch upon one of the highly symbolic moments of the post- that silver dagger. It has even greater significance to Athynae, as will be seen in a bit. But for now- it is the token of a promise fulfilled- when Athlain took it, it was a pledge to return it- one way or another. Given their personalities, I think it is safe to say that the adjustment to the changes will be… volatile. And- we will see more of Athlain’s experience in just a bit!

Where we are- Athlain has returned to Athynae, with the cure for lycanthropy in hand. The preparation of the cure- and the healing itself- required the aid and intervention of Azura, Goddess of Dusk and Dawn. Treachery on the part of the supposed Glenmoril Wyrd was revealed- and things were not as they appeared with those Imperial “ladies.” Now- with Athynae resting, Athlain has time to reflect upon the frantic hours of the previous night.

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As Athynae slept, I remembered. I remembered the events of the previous night, the ones I had told and the ones I had not. Watching her untroubled sleep, the color coming back now to her cheeks, I thought of the other innocent.

When I had arrived at the Altar in the cold light of the moons, Etienne had awaited me. She stepped aside, revealing the bound form of a young girl upon the stone table. The raven-clad woman had smiled at me then, showing teeth that glowed white in the darkness. She seemed to revel in my horror, and spoke in a low voice:

“Greetings, Imperial soldier! The Rite is nearly complete!”

She gestured like a conjurer making a pass- or a merchant hawking his goods.

“Behold the innocent upon the Altar. Beautiful, isn’t she? A Nord, a very nice specimen. She still lives- just barely. Your next step is simple- you must kill the innocent, remove her heart, and give it to me. You may use the dagger there on the Altar, or another- any blade will do.”

Her eyes glinted in the moonlight and her smile grew still wider:

“I did tell you that the Rite would require the sacrifice of both flesh and innocence- did I not?”

And she threw her head back and laughed, a malicious croaking that was swallowed by the night. I wanted to wrap my hands around her throat, to throttle that harsh sound forever. But- too much depended upon me. I would beg- I would negotiate- but this- I would not do. Placing my hand on Athynae’s silver blade where I had sheathed it at the small of my back, I protested:

“If a sacrifice is required, a life for a life, take mine and let this girl- and Athynae- go free!”

Etienne smirked at me, shaking her head, her voice filled with mock regret:

“It is not so simple, young Redoran. It must be an innocent for an innocent. You have the blood of many on your hands, do you not?”

“What do you mean? I know Athynae has harmed no one since this curse fell upon her, but before that? Surely she has slain…?” I stopped as the woman shook her head.

“Nay, my fine hero. Though she perhaps has the will, she has never faced the need. A shadow goes ever before her- or behind her, as the case may be. She has a guardian even more deadly than you....”

A terrible, necessary determination came over me, and the Glenmoril sister seemed to divine my thoughts.
“So you think to murder your love instead of this stranger. And how is that better or more just- killing one innocent instead of another?”

My resolve strengthened and I stood straighter:

“Because it is the choice she would make if I asked her- as I will.” Even as I spoke, I pictured the events in my mind. I would explain to Athynae; she would insist that I give her the silver dagger and leave. She would then take the only honorable course left to her. And I- I would wait, and then open my veins with my own dagger so that we would be together for all time.

But Etienne would not be thwarted; with a scream of fury, she picked up the ceremonial blade from the Altar. “No! You will not cheat me- you will not cheat Boethiah of this prize!”

Quick as thought, Athynae’s dagger was in my hand. The silver blade spun in the moonlight and transfixed Etienne’s throat, sinking to the hilt. Her eyes blazed black and then- red. As the life force drained out of her, her features seemed to melt and flow- and she was revealed as an ancient Dunmer instead of an Imperial. My mind whirled; I did not understand what had just happened- why had she said I would not “cheat Boethiah”? What did the Daedric prince of plots and murder have to do with this?

And then, the enormity of what had happened washed over me like a wave and I fell to my knees. I had saved my honor only to ensure Athynae’s death. There was no cure- it had been a web of deceit from the beginning. But no- Korst had believed the Glenmoril Wyrd possessed the knowledge I needed. I would go to him and…. A sound stopped my racing thoughts- a weak moan. At first, I thought it must be the false “Etienne,” breathing her last. But when I rose to finish her, I saw the girl on the Altar, shivering in the cold.

Athynae was perhaps lost to me- but I would not let this girl die. I was a healer as well as a warrior. A knight was charged to protect the innocent, and so I would. I sliced through her bonds and wrapped her in my spare cloak, lifting her down out of the wind. Propping her against me, I opened a healing potion and poured it between her lips. She shuddered, coughed, shuddered again- and then opened blue eyes and stared up at me. A look of horror crossed her features and she buried her face in my chest. For some unknown time, I just held her, letting her sob and shake.

When she quieted, I asked her name.

“B… Britte,” she whispered. “I was visiting family- I came from Skyrim. I saw a raven and knew it was supposed to be an omen. I… I wanted it to tell me my future, so I followed it. But then, those… women… grabbed me and bound me and carried me off to a cave.”

Telling her story, along with the restorative potion, seemed to give her strength, and she went on:

“They kept me there for several days, tossed in a corner with,” she paused and shuddered again, “with some bodies. At first, I thought they were going to kill me, too, but they talked as if I was not even there.”

She turned to look at me and her eyes grew even wider. “They were talking about you and about Hircine and someone named ‘Athynae’ and how Boethiah had directed them to spoil the Great Hunt. They murdered the real Glenmoril Sisters and took their place. They were going to fool you and get you to… to… kill me.”

My own tears spilled then as I told Britte, “In that at least, they failed. But, by killing ‘Etienne,’ I have also sealed Athynae’s doom. There never was a cure for lycanthropy and I know she will die before she will become a werewolf.”

The girl straightened and said, “But there IS! There is a cure- I heard them say so. One of them- the one whose cloak was reddish, said, ‘He will have no need of that. Let it rot with those Imperial meddlers.’ And she threw a scroll in with the bodies- and with… me.”

“Britte- are you sure? And do you know where the cave was, where they held you?”

She looked at me oddly and said, “Of course I’m sure. I listened to everything, hoping for a way out of there. And you already know where the cave is. You have been there. I heard you talking to those… women. It is where they have that huge cauldron. I thought they were going to cook me in it.”

Much as I wanted to race off and find the scroll, I could not leave Britte alone. And even if I could have done- Athynae- or Mother- or Father- would have killed me if they ever found out. I gave her another restorative and asked:

“Can you use a Divine Intervention scroll?”

She nodded and I told her, “We are going to the Imperial Cult shrine at Fort Frostmoth. Can you get back to your family from there?”

“Oh yes. They are in the new colony at Raven Rock. I can take the boat.”

After making sure Britte was safe, I returned to the cave. The false Isobel and Fallaise had cleared out, leaving the cauldron and, in a dark corner, the bodies of three Imperial women, so shapeless and small as to look like bundles of twigs. And among the bodies was a scroll.

Petals of monkshood (also called wolfsbane), gathered at dawn
Ripe berries of the belladonna (these need not be fresh, so long as they were ripe when gathered)
Hackle lo
Holly berries
Water from a free-running river or stream
Mix all and let stand in a clear vial under the light of the moons


Here Ends Chapter 15

The firmness of Athlain's moral center against the Prince of Plots is astounding and well represented in this post.

An even deadlier guardian you say? Wonder who...

*Does excited dance*...I got the crossover...Raven's Rock...That's where Seth is isn't it?...

Brilliant...

Sooo brilliant...

I like his "I will do anything for love, but I won't do that..." stance...Good man that Athlain...

Nice one!!,.. ...

*Applauds heartily*...

Yes and no.

Trey and Seth are parallel Characters. Since they are both the hero in Morrowind, our stories are two separate universes. However, the characters are each in the others stories, pretty much the same characters, minus the Nerevarine aspect.

Athlain is in my story as well,...though minus this whole, incredible story. I haven't written him in per se, but he's there just the same, as well as Serene Sarethi and her whole family.

OOooh, multiversing...Like it... ... ...Oh hell...*Slaps forehead...Again...*...Yes, someone did tell me...Duh...

Fair enough...Cheers for that...

*Applauds*...

What Black Hand said. Athlain’s strength here is astonishing. His terrible, necessary determination, as he so simply and powerfully puts it.

I think this part works so well as a memory, removed from any sense of what-happens-next. It’s all about experiencing Athlain’s choice with him.

Also,
A shadow goes ever before her- or behind her, as the case may be. She has a guardian even more deadly than you....”

*shiver*

Okay, new chapter reviews. It's still taking me awhile to catch up throughout the whole story. And so far, it may seem it's more on the human side. I can tell you that my stories with werewolves are always pro Hircine, pro-hunt and pro-Lycanthrope and anti-human. But I guess you have to relate to someone, right?

And why oh why does she have to cure Lycanthropy? It's a gift of Hircine to elevate mortals above normal!

But enough of my anti-human rambling. Here is my thoughts:



I enjoyed this. The "insidious prompting" made it juicy.





Interesting part indeed. I like how you somehow made the Glenmoril Witches to be the false version of the real deal. Yet the concept of sacrifice is not far fetched. It's interesting how Hircine requires a sacrifice of flesh. In Daggerfall, for a werewolf to sustain itself, they had to kill an innocent person to survive or else they might lose their own health. Same for Bloodmoon, although just a mortal sacrifice would suffice. Hircine is also known as the Sacrifice of Mortals, makes sense he wants his Hounds and children to kill people, since their the only sacrifice he finds acceptable. And they do it in the name of the hunt, so I loved that little instance.

Now, onto the character in the story. I find it intriguing how the selflessness in the second quote is presented. She's not enamored by the ideas

Thanks for the welcome, by the way. But in all honesty, I love Elder Scrolls mostly because of the werewolves. Hell, only because of werewolves. So you're story was a bonus in my opinion and it is based on an island where Hircine hosts a hunt for his children? That in and of itself is badass. Now I must read about the character more. Back to the first page.

Daedric princes galore. There must be some sort of get together up there. Boethia might not have been the best one to have to thwart, but I doubt he will be too bothersome before things come to a head with Hircine which has been foreshadowed most well in this chapter.


My ramble starts here I think. Interesting that he was willing to pay any price but backed off from exchanging a life for a life. I'm sure there is some parallel to be drawn between refusing to sacrifice one innocent to save another while being quite happy to kill smugglers, raiders, lunatics, bandits etc en mass to keep himself alive. I'm quite sure he doesn't see it, yet, but when he does he might find himself more like his old man than he knows.

The question of innocence is an interesting one too. As yet Athynae hasn't killed anyone, she's done plenty healing but never killing. I suspect that might end soon, it will be interesting to see how she deals with it. I suspect it might cause further changes in their relationship when she eventually has to. He on the other hand is very much not innocent but that seems to catch the 'rebirth through ordeal' (as you so neatly phrased my comment) which recurs in this piece. It reaches right back to his leaving and very definitely with Carbo who carved him into the man he is now. In many ways his entire time on the island is a rebirth through ordeal and coming of age. I wonder how much Trey will recognise his boy now, and what he will think of the changes.

And now I suspect on to the final push. This has developed into much more than just seeking the captain now, it's a matter of his faith and in many ways his self that is on the line against the hunt. Of course I'm sure a bit of vengeance might be appreciated too. Makes me wonder about his 'hunting' for the captain, 'getting' Azura and almost certainly wanting some degree of vengeance - are the daedra actually winning?

Before I become totally incoherent I'll say this: Great stuff.

WHEW !!! Just WHEW !! Powerful Write !!! Awesome !!!!





"Where did you go? Ah yes, there you are ... " (Lili Von Shtupp)

WoW! That was a mighty ending of chapter 15! Athlain is absolutely right, Athynae would never let him kill an innocent girl, her Redoran honor would forbid it. But still the clever young man succeeded very well in getting the proper potion, as we already know!

Wonderful wonderful writing!

And...speaking of crossovers and parallell universes...yes, Trey, Athlain and Sethyas Velas are all in my story...which shall be continued...soon

(I just have to ask someone something, )

@Black Hand- Thank you so much. When I know “how the story turns out,” it is difficult to convey how desperate Athlain was. Yet, at the same time, the decision was not hard. He could not imagine any world in which Athynae would accept the “gift” of an innocent life in exchange for her own.

“A more deadly guardian”- mysteries abound.

@McBadgere- Many thanks! As noted, there are a few crossovers going on with this one. What can I say, I am like a pack-rat dachshund- I see someone else’s shiny characters and want to borrow them. In fact, Athynae is the first such borrowing- as she is actually minque’s creation. Then there is Serene. And also a whole chapter featuring haute ecole rider’s Julian of Anvil (and where IS haute, anyway?) And Sethyas- well, he is so compelling in his own right- and his life is so intertwined with Athynae’s- that he has to be here. He has made at least ONE earlier appearance in this story, a fact which will be referenced in the upcoming chapter.

@Grits- I depend upon you to tell me when I have managed to paint the picture I want. The choice of remembering, rather than telling in “present tense,” was one of those fortunate accidents- it just worked out that way. That deadly shadow will be given more time upon this stage, as well.

@Darkness Eternal- One of the early questions from a reader, as chapter after chapter appeared, with no sign of shape-shifting critters- “I thought Bloodmoon was about werewolves- where are they?” And they are actually fairly rare even in this game, until the player progresses some way on the main quest.

There is a lot tied up in the first quote you cite- not least, Athlain’s feelings of guilt that Athynae is in this situation.

The idea that the Glenmoril Wyrd he meets are false came from a question that bothered me. “If they worship Hircine, why would they be willing to thwart his wishes?” That became even more pointed as we began to show that Athynae is not “just another” potential Hound. So- I did some reading and came up with an answer that is certainly outside of the game- but not outside of TES- someone plotting to put Hircine’s Great Hunt awry. And welcome once more.

@Olen- Yes, the 3E 4—Daedric Prince Convention held on lovely Solstheim. As always, you see the complexity of Athlain’s values. He does not necessarily value “life,” although the deaths at his hands DO bother him- and yes, much like they bother Trey. One of the “big secrets” of Athynae which maybe was not so secret, was the fact that she had not killed anyone. Athlain rather foolishly assumed, given the nature of Solstheim, and the time she spent looking for him, that she must have done. The fact that he never asked says something about how he views even “justified killings.”

The discussion of rebirth and change and vengeance- wow. Thank you for reading as deeply as you do. That you are willing to do so tells me that my attempt to write interesting characters is working.

@mALX- Thank you. And….Blazing Saddles!? ROFL

@minque- If the “kids are alright,” it is because of how- and by whom- they were raised. Whether Athlain realizes it yet or not, he is following very much the path his father did- perhaps with SLIGHTLY less whining. It has pleased me tremendously to be able to weave all of these stories and characters together- while keeping true to who they are.

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Athynae’s journal, inside cover:

To Her Highness the Princess of Trouble,

Congratulations on completing your fourth year. A very Happy Birthday to you. Fill these pages with memories so you can look back and remember you were once a child.
Uncle S

Written in her own hand just beneath the note:

The ony reezen he sez he mayd me that is cuz I git into all most az much trouble az he duz an if thas troo then good I will be her highness princess of trouble forever.

Page 1
I got it I got it I got my bow from the ahemssa mama sed I culd have it when I gro up an I got it two day at my birthday cele sela pardy. I am going hunting az soon az I can git a way frum lidea

I went hunting fond a beetle got a arow and put it on the string and pulled then uncle seth showed up and made me not shoot it and ast me if I was trying to kill myself I was not shoting the arrow backward he is so mean sometimes he brought me home and made me give him my bow until he culd lern me how to use it.

Page 2

I ges befour I put a lot of stuf in here the most portant thing is the story bout how I becam a princess cuz I never ever never wanna four get that story it wuz tha most portant day of my life.


From the Prophecies of the Hunter:

Night rejects the false mistress
Refuses itself from her sight

The moons hide their faces
From the one who spurned their gift

The fickle bride finds that darkness
Is no longer her friend

A scene on Vvardenfell:

The Dunmer appeared at the door of Indarys Manor. He spared a glance for Baria, but no words. Trey looked at him for a long moment and asked simply, "Is it time?" At the other's nod, he took his cloak from the hook by the door, kissed his wife, and stepped outside with the assassin.

Gasp !! What is this then? URGH !!! More I say !!! MORE !!!

Contrary to popular belief I have no idea what the next scenes are. Dang you Trey! Ill be biting my nails wondering what the next step is here! Nice Prelude, you've officially surpassed the Imperfect photo cliffy...and I forgive the 'Woods Incident'...for now...

Whut?!!... ...

Eh?!!... ...

And indeed...WHA?!!! ...

Looks forward to it....

Nice one!!!... ...

*Applauds*...

A quick note- I was in such a rush to post the Interlude (balding spells sizzling behind one are SO motivating)- that I forgot to respond to the wonderful comments. That is fixed now at the top of the Interlude 16 post. Many thanks to my wonderful readers and friends.

These interludes are getting more cryptic... I can see why in many ways, we now have two PoV characters so there is less need for laying background (especially given that one is telepathic). You make good use of the format though, the episodic author and PoV switching with interludes suits forum posting very well and keeps everything fresh and intriguing (while allowing for the reader to be reading several other things). It's nice to see the piece reflect that it doesn't need to pretend to be a book.

As to content - Athynae's first journal entries, I'm not sure what these represent. Then the prophecies which I suspect may pertain to Athynae though how I'm not sure. And then Trey and Seth leaving Indarys with it being time... All very intriguing, which I suppose is the point.

Can't wait for the next pert now.

O_o....now what? Time??? Time for what? The amount of questions rise...Seth and Trey? Hmmm thats a good coalition or is it?

These cliffies are awesome but very much tormenting....

@mALX- Several have tumbled to the identity of “the assassin.” His role will become more clear- but not for some time.

@Black Hand- There will probably be more cliff-racer endings… And I do not think ANYTHING will ever equal that screenie of the Imperfect… Just saying.

@McBadgere- My thanks. The Interludes are as much to boggle as to inform- I must admit.

@Olen- My thanks about the way this works for the forum. Serial novel-writing is rather fun for that reason. The reason for the journal entry will become more clear with the first post of the new chapter. And yes- you correctly deduce the identity of “the assassin.”

@minque- Appears a more direct “intervention” is about to take place. But- with Seth and Trey- who knows? And especially with Athynae and myself doing the writing.

Where we are- Athynae and Athlain are together once more, and she has been cured of lycanthropy. The identity of the figure in Athlain’s dreams and of Athynae’s tormentor has also been revealed- Hircine, Daedric Prince of the Hunt. But even so, their path is far from clear.

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The trek to the cottage from the cave was not a great distance, but by the time we arrived I was exhausted. It just made me realize the toll the lycanthropy and the healing had taken. The cottage looked the same as it had last I saw it, like a picture, perfect for a novice artist to attempt to catch the serenity and never quite succeed.

Athlain stepped onto the porch and opened the door and I was not far behind. I stepped in to the exact room I had left. Everything was just as it had been, every bowl, utensil and bottle where they belonged. Just inside the door my pack and the rest of my gear was leaning against the wall. The katana’s sheath was where I had tossed it when I departed to save the world… never mind.

I scanned the room again. Something- something just wasn’t exactly as I had left it or someone had been here. The hair on the back of my neck raised and every muscle tensed. Everything looked the same. I closed my eyes to enhance my other senses….

“What is it ‘Thyna?” Athlain had turned- I could tell by his voice that he was walking toward me.

I put up my hand to stop him “Sshh, just be still, be quiet.”

He stopped and I went back to my intense meditation to no avail. Still I couldn’t help but feel something was off, not quite perfect. “Do you feel anything different?” I asked Athlain finally.

“Like what?” And I couldn’t tell if his look was one of concern, or fear that I had lost my mind.

“It just, I don’t know, feels different. Everything appears to be the way I left it, but something is making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.” When I said that his expression eased a bit; he didn’t often question my instincts and this was obviously purely instinct because there was nothing out of place that should have set it off.

“Come on, sit down; maybe you are just over-tired.” Athlain pulled out one of the chairs at the small table where I had prepared potions for him what seemed like an age ago. I walked to the chair and sat, still on edge. Maybe he was right; maybe I was just too tired.

He started placing kindling in the fireplace. “What are you doing? We aren’t going to be here long enough for that. We don’t have time, remember? If it weren’t for my other weapons and the rest of my armor still being here, I would probably have come by myself to get the journals.” I raised an eyebrow in accusation because he had briefly resisted coming the cabin until I reminded him that everything I needed still here, except my katana.

“I don’t want to argue Thyna, not now. We are here and you need to be warm, regardless of where we are. One night isn’t going to make any difference now, one way or the other. A good night’s rest and you will be much better to travel tomorrow.”

I really didn’t like that commander voice; no I did not. But I didn’t want to argue either. Truth was I did really want to be warm, it seemed even my bones were cold, and the thought of sleeping on a bed, even the one in this cottage, that was almost flat, was a welcome reprieve from a cold stone and dirt floor with only a pallet. And blankets, I would never take a blanket for granted again, or a fireplace, or …I let the thought go; I didn’t want to delve that deep just yet. I knew it was there, waiting, and I would visit it and hold it close- just not right now. I wanted to be where I could truly savor all that held new meaning, after what had happened, a whole new understanding and appreciation.

“Thank you.” My lame response came after an indeterminate delay, but it was a response, and wasn’t argumentative or sarcastic or any of those other horrid attributes I seemed to be so skilled at using.

“I’ll fix us something to eat and you can rest. We will leave at first light, which will put us where we need to be by late tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”

“Please stop coddling me, Athlain. You would not make a good mother. I am not arguing so just leave it where it is.” He turned from his task with a quick nod and that not quite a grin that said ‘Very well.’

I continued to scan the room until my eyes focused on my pack. My eyes locked on the strap that tied to keep it closed. Oh no! I started toward the pack, filled with dread. When I crouched in front of the canvas bag and put my hand under the tie to examine it more closely I heard Athlain.

“Thyna, why did you leave a note?” There was a bit of humor to the question.

“I didn’t.” I tossed the words over my shoulder as I pulled the string that would release the tie.

Suddenly the scene in my mind changed and I was sitting in Uncle Seth’s lap and he was showing me how to tie my pouch so I wouldn’t lose what I put in it. “Tie it like this, both strings together, make a loop then pull the loop through itself. Then if you need to open whatever is tied it is as quick as pulling the free strings.” I swallowed, knowing what I was going to find as I opened my pack.

“Um Thyna, the note is sealed with….”

I cut him off “Red wax.”

“Yes, how did you know?”

“It’s from Uncle Seth.” I reached into the pack and proved my theory; the journals were gone. Breath; it’s ok;Seth has them. I turned to face him and said matter-of-factly “The tie on my pack wasn’t mine, it was Seth’s.”

Athlain was staring at me like he had been hit in the head with a hammer but forgot to fall. I never did understand why Athlain was so afraid of Uncle Seth. I mean sure he was kind of eerie I guess, appearing almost out of nowhere, but even after reading his journals and knowing what he had done and who he was, something I didn’t think Athlain knew nor did he need to, I understood the heart of the mer. I felt like I did, anyway. He wouldn’t hurt those he counted as family and somewhere I knew Athlain was covered under that blanket.

“He was here?” Athlain drew the words out as if they were a death sentence, sitting hard in the chair.

I walked to the table and held out my hand for the note. “Good grief.” I added, “Breathe Athlain; you are going to pass out,” as I released the wax holding the note closed.

I stared at it for a moment, laughing at the irony, mad as a wounded rat that he had been here and didn’t … stay. Sadly, I realized how much I really wanted to see him, felt somehow like I needed to.

You need to rest, you look tired. I have the journals. I will return them to where they belong, unless you want to find me and get them. But Athynae, you need to talk to your mother!
And it was simply signed “S”.

Like I could find him, right. If Uncle Seth did not want to be found, he could hide in an open field.

“He was here,” Athlain repeated, this time looking “green around the gills,” as the ship captain had put it.

“No, he sent his trained pet to retrieve the journals and leave me a note.” I shook my head; he could be so dim sometimes.

“What did he mean by ‘you look tired’?” His eyes opened wide as he questioned me.

“Obviously he saw us, but didn’t see fit to hang around for another 25 breaths to say hello.” Now I was just mad. He was going to get as much as he gave when he scolded me about taking the journals. I would take the scolding; I deserved it, but so would HE!

“He saw us? And he didn’t shoot me with a poisoned dart?” Athlain slipped deep into his own thoughts for a moment, looking like a scared animal trapped between a fire and a sword. “Thyna what would he do if something happened to you while you were here with me?” His voice was almost shaking.

“What? What do you mean?” If he didn’t look so frightened I would have laughed, but something told me now was not the time.

“What would he do? He would surely feel the need to take it out on someone. What would he do to me?”

“Feed you to the slaughterfish, of course. Really Athlain, this is getting ridiculous. Why would he feel the need to do anything? One, he isn’t my father, and two, he isn’t really even an uncle.” Saying that lit a torch somewhere in my head, but I didn’t pause to think about it. “He’s just been a friend of Mother and Father since before, well you know. Besides he is NOT that bad. You act like he is death’s messenger.”

“That’s how he always made me feel.” I swear he shivered.

“He isn’t a soft, warm kitten.” But he had held me and dried more than a few tears, “but he has a heart, Athlain, and he cares about the people he considers family.”

“Well that makes me feel so much better. Really, I mean he’s spent so much time with me. Training me how to use a sword, how to shoot a bow. Oh wait- that wasn’t me- it was you. He didn’t train me to use those because I couldn’t use them!” What was that tone? He’d never acted jealous before so I didn’t think that was it. Maybe it was just because I really didn’t understand why he felt the way he did about Uncle Seth; I never had.

“But he has never hurt you, or even threatened you. He even gave you a dagger, did he not?” I asked in hopes that it would emphasize the point.

“He gave me a dagger, looking all dark and sinister, along with that threat you think he never made.” He said, in that voice from long ago that said ‘Please stop picking on me.’

It didn’t work back then and it wasn’t going to work now. “A threat, really? What did he say, Athlain? ‘Hold on to this so you’ll have it when I come to slit your throat?’ ” I knew it was going to be something that he had misconstrued- I just couldn’t imagine what it might be.

“Those journals were in my Father’s study; do you think I never sneaked a look at them? I know some of the things he’s done.” I wondered which “things” he was talking about, but knowing that he had read some of it was probably enough to stoke the flame of his unreasonable fear.

“What did he say?” I was getting frustrated with this nonsense; it was like that girl that came two summers ago with her parents to visit Mother. She was older than me and she was petrified of Cook. It was beyond explanation. Cook was tiny, not old and not young; she had been our cook since long before I was born and to my knowledge had never hurt anyone. Mother called it a phobia, just something she couldn’t control. I guess that meant Athain had Sethophobia, and I wondered if it was curable.

“He handed me the blade and he said, ‘Keep it with you always. When the time comes to use it- you will know.’ "

“What do you think he meant by that, Athlain? Use it to kill yourself? He gave it to you to keep you safe! He said the same thing to me when he gave me my dagger. How can you use it when the time comes if you don’t have it with you?”

“You didn’t see his eyes, Thyna. They screamed at me ’or else’!”

“I have seen him in some pretty dark moods, being the one that caused it more often than not, and he didn’t grind me up and feed me to the racers.”

Athlain reached behind his neck as if to rub the tension, but as he brought it from behind his head he had the dagger in his hand. He laid it on the table. I had never seen it before that I could remember, but I would have known it was Uncle Seth’s if I’d found it at the bottom of the lake. The dagger he had given me, I knew, he had had made himself. It fit my hand like my leather gloves, even accommodating my pinky that was just a tad crooked because I had broken it when I was 4 or 5 and tried to heal it myself because I didn’t want Mother to know what I had been doing when it happened. The dagger that lay on the table was black; not just the hilt, which was hand-wrapped black leather, but the blade as well. I reached down and pulled my own dagger from my boot and laid it on the table. Side by side the two blades looked like the absolute opposite of one another. His seemed to suck the light from the air; it was almost invisible on the table, where mine was like a mirror, a beacon sending beams of light from the facets in the blade as well as the carvings and stones of the hilt. Athlain’s was a bit smaller than mine, the blade not quite as thick, but just as wide; his had a slight curve, mine did not; his looked sinister where mine looked almost like jewelry. I was not fooled by appearances though; I had no doubt that one was just as deadly as the other.

“Athlain he made this dagger with his own hands.” How did I know that? “Do you think he would give it to just anyone?”

He still didn’t look convinced, but I do think he eased a bit. Looking somewhere beyond me he said, “It never needs sharpening. I have used a whetstone on it but only out of habit. I have used it to cut bone when I killed a deer for food and it sliced through it as if it were butter on the table.” He was far away, thinking about Azura only knew what.

“I don’t know what either of them is made of, but I have never seen one that glistens as mine does or absorbs the light as yours. Mine is the same though; ever sharp, and if yours is like mine in all ways except appearance, then it is perfectly balanced as well.”

“Huh? Oh, right, probably. Do you think he’s angry at us for taking the journals?” Athlain propped his head on his hand.

“Us? Which us are you referring to? Me and the mouse I carry in my pocket? Last memory I had of the events, I was the one who took the journals and you were half a world away at the time.”

“But you were coming to me.” He picked up his dagger and returned it to its hidden sleeve. I really was so proud of him, how far he had come since…and now I find out that he is even thinking, planning enough that he has his dagger behind his head in a sheath on his back that could not be seen; yes, he had come a long way. But I still liked mine in my boot; even though it’s where everyone put a dagger. I could drop, grab the dagger, roll and throw faster than most people could draw a sword.

“If he is mad it will be at me and me alone. It isn’t a day at the market, being on the receiving end of one of his tirades, but I have been there before and I am quite sure I will be there again. Although his bite is far worse than his bark, only someone truly deserving of it gets to know exactly how much worse.”

The sun was setting, so the cottage was getting dark. Athlain lit the lantern and a small candle on the table and picked up the bucket that had found a home under the bed when I threw it in to grab my weapon. “I won’t be long; I’m just going to fill ‘er up so you’ll have water for tea in the morning.” And he stepped out the door, looking around before he closed it.

I returned my dagger to my boot, glad to have it back where it belonged. I walked over to the small bed, more a cot really, but still a welcome relief. I sat on the edge and removed my boots and the rest of my armor, down to the clothing underneath. I pulled back the blankets and crawled in, folding my arms behind my head.

I stared at the ceiling, watching the shadows cast by the fire. I didn’t understand why Uncle Seth didn’t wait, he saw us and still…I pulled the note from my sleeve where I had put it and read it again.

“You need to talk to your mother,” jumped off the page and down my throat, or that’s what it felt like- a huge ball of parchment stuck like it was glued. So, he’d seen mother; he knew that I had requested sanctuary at Indarys and then found out it was all because mother and Aunt Baria thought they needed to save Athlain and me. He probably knew she’d left her journals too. The thoughts at that point started running over each other in an attempt to figure out what would cause him to come all the way to Solstheim, just to retrieve his and Mother’s journals. Had he seen Uncle Trey? That’s the only way he could’ve known I had them. He probably saw the note I had left:

“Uncle Trey,
I borrowed a few books. I hope you don’t mind. I will take good care of them- I promise.
Love,
Thyna”

But that held no clues that I could glean. And he obviously knew I had come back to Solstheim after our supposed “conversation” had gone nowhere. At least I had sent her a note. Obviously I hadn’t been disowned; she had helped as much as she could while I was quarantined. That still didn’t explain why he hadn’t waited or why he took Mother’s journals too. What had I done to him? And it wasn’t the journals; I knew that. He would just growl and puff and give me mean looks, but he wouldn’t avoid me over it. That just wasn’t like him. I felt a tear slide down my face to the pillow as I drifted off with a foreboding- of what I had no idea. Surely that feeling was just because of what Athlain and I were on our way to face, right?

Lol, even I was able to guess WHO it was, lol. But what and why - that was my dilemma, ROFL !!!

Will return to read this post when I have a bit more free time, lol. <3

This is the absolute best Athynae chapter yet !!! It was hard to see Athlain reverting to the old fearfull person he used to be, haven't seen that side of him in years (except in Athynae's childhood memories). Maybe that is something Athynae brings out in him because she is fearless, lol.

There were a billion places to quote, too many to actually do it - it was all great !!!! Awesome Write !!

Most excellent!!!... ...

Loved it from start to finish...

Full of humour and excitement...And a touch of creepyness... ...

Excellently done...

Nice one!!... ...

*Applauds heartily*...

A very good part. So Seth has made it to Solstheim though why he chose not to contact is uncertain. Possibly letting them work it out themselves? Or something more. I'm sure time will tell.

Athlain's dislike of Seth seems fairly reasonable to me, but I wonder what further hand he has to play. And if Trey might be present on Solstheim.

The interplay between Athlain and Athynae continues to develop - that they can now decide not to argue is a step forward Interesting that Athlain had a vaguely argumentative response even gived Athynae's (fairly) neutral reply, I suppose he must have always had that edge but it was lost under Athynae's, if it wasn't there there might have been fewer arguments. Although she didn't argue this time she still sees herself as superior:

There's quite a lot of them captured there. In spite of him being vastly more experienced she doesn't see past him as he was. I suspect that will be chaging though.

ohhhhhhh...I'd like to quote the whole installment.....but I'll take just this one, it made me giggle and I'm still giggling:


Reading this over and over....my my , all things seem to knit together, it sends shivers to my spine!


Maybe this calls for an interlude...hmm

SS: Thyna you can always talk to me wherever you are... You know how

Why would he feel the need to do anything? One, he isn’t my father, and two, he isn’t really even an uncle.” Saying that lit a torch somewhere in my head, but I didn’t pause to think about it.

Hmm. And the mystery of Seth leaving before the ink was even dry. I am intrigued. Come on, Athynae, talk to your mother!

This is such a great section. I loved the part about the daggers the most.

Comment responses from Athynae:

@mALX- Thank you, thank you! Your support is invaluable, priceless. Athynae is learning what fear is and being 'fearless' may not always be a good thing.

@McB- I am so happy you are here and enjoying this!!! Now, on to more of the A and A show...

@Olen- Your comments always thrill me; I wait to see your interpretation of the events. I will say though, her apparent superiority is as much a defense mechanism as her sarcasm. The only fields where she actually is more adept are with a sword and bow; some of the coming soon journal entries in the memories thread will shed some light. That being said though, it's hard for a princess not to act like a princess.... just sayin...

@minque- The psychological phenomenon known as 'Sethophobia' is suffered by a larger number of people than may have been previously thought. It manifests in each of the sufferers differently and the symptoms aren't all bad (just ask Thyna).

Maybe an Interlude is in order but in whose thread?????????

AS- "Yes Mother, I know and we will talk soon but I have a bit of business to take care of first, seems a daedric prince is out to get me and I intend to stop his attack on me and the rest of this forsaken island. Love you, talk soon, really..."

@Grits- You picked my favorite part! I loved the daggers; that whole section said far more to me, not about A and A but about how Seth feels about them...and the mystery continues..

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Athynae fell into an exhausted sleep and I turned down the lamp and banked the fire. Although I had made myself a pallet on the floor, my thoughts would not let me rest. Thyna could not understand why her “Uncle Seth” frightened me. Nor would I have been able to explain it until I had spent time in the Legion and gone into Ashinabi cave with its smugglers. The Athlain who had gone into that place was not the one who came out. That experience had opened a window onto a world where “choices” meant something more than deciding which trousers to wear or what to have for breakfast. In that new world, they were about who lived and who died. But the ultimate lesson had come here on Solstheim, when I sought out the reavers who had robbed me of my goods and my sense of honor.

From them, I had exacted a blood price. And in those few minutes, as I had become one with the blade, with the darkness of the night- and the darkness that dwelt within- I knew Sethyas Velas. I understood how he had shaped fear and rage to his own purpose, hammering them into the blades he used to such deadly effect. It was not the charming Dunmer rogue who guested in my home that I feared, the tall figure who laughed with my father and complimented my mother’s garden- then slipped away like a shadow of a dream.

He had always been kind to me, in an aloof sort of way. So I did not really think he would be angry with me, no matter what had befallen Athynae while she was in my company. He might discuss how he would have done things differently, but no more than that. So- if it was not the assassin’s blade, nor the mer’s dark temper that terrified me, what was it? The answer had been hinted at in Ashinabi and revealed fully on the Isinfer Plain- I saw that the same darkness resided in both of us. And I was almost paralyzed by the idea that when next we met, he would acknowledge the aura that now hung now around me, as it did around him- an aura of violence and death.

Even so, I knew that she and the elusive assassin had always shared a special bond. He had trained her in the use of blade and bow, gifted her with her first set of armor, listened with grave seriousness to all her pronouncements. It would not be fair to say that he “spoiled” Athynae- in fact, he was sometimes the only person who could convince her to complete onerous tasks that she deemed “stupid.” In fact, he had- on one memorable occasion- banished that word from her vocabulary for an entire glorious week. There was much about Seth that I admired, some that I feared, and still more that I simply did not understand

When sleep claimed me at last, I was certain of only one thing- I had made the choices I must. If my dreams were haunted by dark figures or Daedric princes, I did not know it, for which I was grateful. A log dropping in the fireplace woke me, and I saw the light of day streaming through the windows. Athynae was burrowed into a mound of blankets, the slow rise and fall of her breathing the only sign of her presence. I tried to move quietly as I built up the fire and prepared some food. My efforts were not entirely successful; an annoyed voice soon issued from the heap on the bed:

“Must you clump around so?”

Given that I was wearing soft slippers and had mostly been sitting quietly for the past several minutes, I decided what had awakened her was actually the aroma of hackle lo tea brewing. Rather than engage in a pointless verbal battle, I poured a cup and carried it toward the bed. In my best “Imperial manservant” voice, I intoned:

“Your morning beverage, Milady Slug-a-Bed.”

I had judiciously stayed just out of reach before I said it. Long experience had taught me that rousing Thyna was a perilous undertaking. As the old saying had it:

If you are going to poke a sleeping bear, best to use a long stick.

My attempt at humor fell flat; her head finally emerged and she squinted at the full sunlight that patterned the floor. She threw off the covers and grumbled:

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

As usual, she was completely unaware of the contradiction inherent in her complaints. But it was too much to expect civility, let alone sense, from her before she had finished her first cup- or better still her second.

As she worked on that all-important initial mug, Athynae eyed me suspiciously over the rim. Then as she poured the second, she quizzed me peevishly.

“How many leaves did you use? You do know that you don’t have to boil the leaves- just let them steep? What do we have to eat? How old is this scrib jelly?”

I simply let the torrent wash over me, reveling in the fact that we were together and that my culinary skills- or their lack- was the most pressing issue before us. Besides, there was an established rule, followed by everyone who knew Thyna- discount anything she said until after her second cup of tea. I did use the time before she was fully alert to watch her carefully, looking for signs of fatigue; or weakness; or… I could not say it, even to myself. But my cursory examination did not reveal anything untoward. And, despite her expressed doubts, she made short work of the food I placed before her.

Pushing her plate away, she folded her legs gracefully into the chair and asked me about Hircine.

“You have been here longer than I, and have spent time with Korst. What can you tell me about this annoying Daedric prince?”

“Mostly what we got from lessons. He is the Hunter and the Father of the Manbeasts. He was not known until fairly recently, and so does not have as many worshippers as some of the others….” I trailed off as she shook her head.

“No, not the history or the religion. I need to know if he can be killed- and how.”

She touched the hilt of the dagger sticking out of the top of her boot and her eyes narrowed. I chose the words of my response carefully:

“I do not think he can be killed- not by us, at least. The most we can do is banish him back to his plane of Oblivion. Doing that will limit his ability to affect our world. And it will be some time before his avatar can manifest again."

Her eyes bored into mine and she hissed, “How many years?”

“I don’t know, Thyna. Hundreds, I suppose.”

“Does it hurt? When he is banished like that?”

“I cannot imagine that it is pleasant, and his avatar probably experiences physical pain.”

She nodded sharply and said quietly, “Good thing I am Dunmer then. I plan to live long enough to send his ugly, antlered head back where it came from several times before I am done.”

From someone else, it might have seemed an idle threat or a joke. But I did not laugh- and Athynae never made threats.

There was silence for a time and then she stood and asked me, “Can you bring some more water? I have not had a chance to bathe for far too long.”

She smiled at the flush that crept up my cheeks and added lightly, “I know you hardy Legion types can manage with a freezing river, but I prefer hot water when I can get it.”

Anything I could say would have been wrong, so I fled the cabin, taking the bucket with me. After I had filled the large kettle near the fire for her, all the while trying not to entertain thoughts of her ablutions, submerging myself in the cold river seemed like an excellent idea. Blue was more my color than red, in any event.

After that, it was time to leave. We would need to speak to Korst soon, but I wanted to stop by Thirsk on the way. As Thyna gathered the last of her gear, I looked around the single room of the cabin. It seemed impossible that such a small space could hold so many memories. If I had known of some magic that would let me move the dwelling to some more hospitable place, I would have done so. And I would ask Athynae to marry me and live with me there forever. But I held those thoughts inside. There might come a time for such a future, but it was not yet. Athynae’s hand reached up to caress the hilt of her sword where it rose over her shoulder and I mirrored her gesture, feeling the comforting weight of the Gift at my hip. Though he did not yet know it, the Hunter had become the hunted.

Love it!!...

The internal struggle and fear that he was like Seth was excellently done...

And I absolutely loved Thyna's threat and Athlain's total acceptance of it as fact...Brilliant...

And there was much to make me laugh throughout...

Brilliantly done...

Nice one!!... ...

*Applauds heartily*...

And the hunt continues. For all they reject and dislike Hircine they, particularly Athlain, certainly seem to stay within his sphere. Hunting for a cure, hunting bandits, hunting spriggans, hunting for an abandoned airship... and now hunting the lord of the hunt. It's interesting that this passes him by. In many ways just being on Solstheim seems to involve hunting, and therefore Hircine. I wonder if this contradiction will make itself known or if hunting in his name is somehow different to normal hunting.

Athlain shows another side to himself in this part. He is aware of the darkness the killing leaves and doesn't like it but unlike his father seems less inclined to whine about it. I suspect now he will understand, when he takes a moment to think, why Trey gave it all up, but I wonder if Athlain will. He joined the Legion and in some ways almost defines himself, or at least his progress, in terms of hunting and violence. I can't see him becoming like Seth and using that almost to the point of revelling in it but I can see him accepting it and moving on. I just can't imagine Athlain settled I suppose, though Athynae might make a solid attempt at changing that.

Athynae wanting to hurt and kill Hircine was classic too. I suspect her determination might lead them into the last bit of the bloodmoon prophecy...

So things are moving on! I Like that...and the wonderful conversations between Thyna and Athlain! I must say I like that young man more and more! He's kind, caring and very very patient with Her Highness! That's impressive, she can be really annoying...

Makes me wonder...has Athlain always been so kind and sensible? Even as a child....I mean he must have had a hard time dealing with two annoying sisters..AND Athynae Sarethi!

As I wrote in Her Highness' thread...it's time for something...

Love this line, beautifully done!

Yes, I well remember a scene several months ago - a line about Athynae before her morning tea, ROFL !!!



Ugly antlered head - ROFL !!



SPEW !!! Loved this chapter, Great Write !!

Hate to state that I loved the update, it seems self-serving in some fashion. Regardless, you continue too humble and inspire me Ser Trey and Athynae.

Athlain’s thoughts about his disquiet around Sethyas were very interesting. The whole process of defining and accepting parts of oneself is familiar, even though death and violence is thankfully not the familiar part.

This episode falls into before and after She awakens. There was much in Athynae and Athlain’s interactions to smile over. I thought the last paragraph was particularly heartwarming. He has definitely decided that she is worth the trouble. It is wonderful to see them together, both healthy again, and ready for the hunt.

@McBadgere- Thank you so much. From the beginning, I have wanted to make Athlain a more complex character than his dear old dad…. And Athynae is someone even a Daedric prince should have know better than to annoy. If Hircine had considered, he would realize the very qualities that make him wish to “have” her are the ones that make her a deadly enemy.

@Olen- You find a depth to the story that is undeniably there- now that it is pointed out to me. I will admit the existence of the hunting motif was also unintentional, much as I might want to claim credit. Athlain is beginning to see the burden Trey carried, the weight of the dead. Perhaps the biggest difference is one of autonomy. Athlain joined the Legion willingly- although with a head full of romantic nonsense about it. Trey got handed a package with the admonition - “you’re our boy- go out there and do what you are told.” Of course- whether he wants to admit it or not, Trey also had free will….

@minque- I think Athlain’s… patience… is a product of self-preservation. The future will show he is still quite capable of making missteps in that department. Better still though- there is also going to be a memory of how he was trained by none other than Serene herself….

@mALX- Thank you- that was one of those “pictures in my mind.” I think there are probably posters of Athynae throughout Vvardenfell with the notation- “Armed and Extremely Dangerous- Do NOT approach without hackle lo tea.” Of course- maybe that will be Athlain’s secret plan- wake her up really EARLY on morning and send her out to confront Hircine before she has had her tea. Yes, Bold Sir Athlain- faced with the prospect of an elven princess at her bath- decided that a hasty retreat was in order.

@Black Hand- It is so EASY to “borrow” vivid characters like Seth. And the enjoyment the crossover gives us is impossible to describe.

@Grits- From the beginning, I had hoped Athlain’s “Journey of Discovery” would be more mental and emotional than physical. That last paragraph owes much to Jerric and Abiene… Athlain finds himself torn between what he wants and what he knows he must do. But in the end, he only hopes that by finishing his task, he will gain his heart’s desire.

Where we are- Athynae and Athlain are beginning what they hope will be the final preparations to confront Hircine, the Daedric prince of The Hunt. Although they appear to be working well together, future posts will show that putting two young, strong-willed people into a small space will lead to sparks. And now, Athynae speaks.

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After Athlain emptied the last bucket of water into the vessel beside the fire I intentionally attempted, successfully I might add, to make him uncomfortable enough to leave me alone. I did want to bathe. I felt disturbingly contaminated, but I also needed time to roll some of this into some sort of acceptable form to be accessed later for full resolution.

The entire conversation about Hircine was disturbing; the werewolf attack- and what followed- did not feel random to me. It was not a simple game of cards. This was a calculated, choreographed plan carefully plotted and carried out with precision. The Daedric prince had only miscalculated one thing that I could see, the connection between Athlain and me. Something told me that had Athlain not been there, not found the scroll and prepared the potion; that any attempt I made to end my life would have somehow been thwarted by the meddling visitor from Oblivion.

This could bode ill for both sides of the ‘game’. Hircine, I felt sure, did not understand the implications of dealing with two people that were as connected as Athlain and I. And so he would underestimate that, trying to treat us as individuals. The other side was that I knew how angry he was at being bested, beaten at his own game, and so the challenges ahead would only become harder and darker. And even now, after taking the potion and being cured of the disease he had inflicted, I could hear his voice on the fringes of my mental awareness still trying to draw me to him.

I smiled to myself. Each time I overcame an obstacle it only served to make me stronger, wiser. In this situation it also served to solidify my resolve; I was determined to end the game he had set into motion- but in a way that he did not expect. I could not imagine walking away now, knowing what the population of this island, and perhaps even Vvardenfell, would suffer if I did.

Athlain faced many challenges, and sought a multitude of answers, but I couldn’t help but feel all the threads wove a web that led back to Hircine. It was just a feeling, but one I could not shake since he had told me what he knew of the Hunter, as little as it was.

The water was warm now and I removed armor pieces that felt like they had grown to me. I had never worn anything for more than a day, especially undergarments, but I didn’t even know how long I had been in this same outfit. I laid my cuirass, chausses and Athlain’s bracer to the side and removed the rest of my clothing. I examined my skin critically, perhaps fearing that I might see some sign or mark of the Daedric prince still upon it. But it was the same pale, luminous grey it had always been. At last, I picked up the piece of soap I had taken from my pack and scrubbed my body until it was practically raw, and then vigorously soaped my hair as well. A simple spell reheated the water, and I rinsed thoroughly. I donned clean under things and proceeded to wash the garments I had taken off. If they weren’t dry by the time we departed, then I would just leave them here. I was sure we would be back; we couldn’t seem to stay away from the place.

I draped my clothes over the edge of the shelf by the fireplace and sat on the floor, pulling my knees up and wrapping my arms around them and then stared into the flames. I had a picture in my head of Uncle Seth hidden in the trees, watching as we made our way from the cave and suddenly rushing to beat us here, grabbing the journals and penning the note and evaporating just before we opened the door. Why? It was eating me up not knowing what would make him do such a thing. He did not avoid me ever; even if he was in a rush and I happened to appear, he took a moment to speak before he departed.

Mother had seemed so distant the last time I had seen her, detached almost, like she was trying to weigh something but the scale wasn’t made for it. She was in pain, but she was holding a barrier to keep me outside. I was still angry with her for the meddling, even though it was my misinterpretation that had caused the biggest problem. But she should never have gone to the Duke without speaking with me first. Neither should Aunt Baria, for that matter, but she had asked for my forgiveness and I had given it.

Father had been different too, looking at me with the same smile on his mouth but a deep sadness behind his eyes. The last time I hugged him he had held me tighter and longer than was his norm. He had been drinking a bit more of late and taken to closing his study door, which was quite odd.

The world was spinning the wrong way or something. I found myself not only being drawn more toward Athlain but also feeling pushed away by the other people I cared for. I was so confused, sitting in the floor in front of a fireplace, in a cottage that held way too much to be as small as it was, on an island that was at times beautiful, and at others like a slice of Sheogorath’s realm.

“Thyna, I…” I stood and turned as the wood in Athlain’s arms hit the floor. His mouth fell open and his face- his face could not have been any redder if I had painted it with some of his mother’s paint. Then I realized the problem; I was wearing nothing except undergarments covered by a thin, cut off chemise. And he was absolutely frozen in place.

“Close the door please, you are letting all the warm air out.” And I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Yes, well, um, well, yes, yes, that’s what I’ll dooooo, I will just close the door, you just let me know, yea just um…”

“CLOSE THE DOOR!” and it slammed shut- with Athlain still on the outside.



What with my having to take a walk and then knock on the door before I tried to enter the cabin again, it was some time before Athynae and I actually got underway toward Thirsk. I had expected her to argue that we should go directly to the Skaal village and Korst, but she seemed to be somewhat preoccupied with her own thoughts. Nevertheless, I did not try to set a fast pace, still being concerned about Thyna’s recovery. What that meant was that the sun began to set when we were still some distance from Thirsk. We were going to have to make camp.

I would have liked a clear area, perhaps with some rocks to serve as cover- but what we settled for was a place under the trees. We got camp set up quickly and with a minimum of talk, and I wondered if Athynae was angry with me. But I quickly dismissed that worry- she generally let me know of her displeasure in vivid detail. Because there were worse things to fear than animals, we kept the fire small. Athynae, recalling her experience with the bear whose hide served as a blanket, decreed that the menu would consist of travel rations. The only exception was her hackle-lo tea. I did not protest; there would be time for real food when we reached Thirsk. But it was still more than the effort of chewing dried berries and jerky that kept Thyna silent. I thought over what had occurred and realized that the fact that Seth had been within arm’s reach- and had left without waiting to see her- weighed heavily upon her.

So, I was thinking more about Athynae and her troubles than about the future. It is not wise to allow yourself to become preoccupied with dark thoughts on a cold night on Solstheim. However, if you are so inclined, being in the company of an elven warrior with the hearing of a hypersensitive cat will mitigate the error in judgment. The first hint I had that we were under attack was Athynae’s katana hissing from its scabbard. Months of Legion drill, followed by more months of the wilderness, found me standing back to back with her, the Gift in my hand and my shield on my arm.

I wasted no time on foolish questions, but scanned my section of the darkness that pressed in on our tiny fire. Even so, the shape that leapt howling out of the night still startled me. No matter how many times I confronted werewolves, their bizarre conformation, part man and part wolf, made me doubt my senses. But, by then, the lycanthrope was upon me and the joy of battle sang in my blood.

Block and swing, set my feet, slide to the right- watch his teeth, dammit! Jab with the mace- didn’t expect that did you? And yes, those silver spikes burn when they hit. Now- bash with the shield, keep him off-balance while he is still smarting. A full sidearm swing to the ribs as he raises his… paws? Get your hips into it. “A warrior’s power is in his legs!” And that brings the… hands(?) down, leaving that horrible, yellow-eyed head vulnerable for the finishing blow. But… economical now- quick, don’t try to wind up for a big finish. There are no “points for style” here- only life… and death.

The monster fell in the weltered snow and it was only then that I remembered Athynae. Oh, by the Nine! How could I have forgotten? I turned as a wet, slithering sound came to my ears and I saw her withdraw her blade from another werewolf’s abdomen. He was clutching himself, wearing a puzzled expression that remained on his features when her two-handed swing removed the head from his shoulders. Before the headless corpse had fallen, Athynae stepped past me and decapitated my opponent as well.

I started to speak, but the look on her face stopped my mouth. Her normally soft features could have been carved from marble, there under the light of the moons. There was fury in her eyes, to be sure, but there was also a great, yawning… emptiness. I waited quietly as she flicked her blade to clear it of blood, in a gesture as casual as another girl might have used to push her hair back behind her ears. When, after an interminable time, she looked more like herself again, I stammered an attempt at apology:

“Sorry, ‘Thyna. I… have become so used to fighting alone that I did not think. I will do better next time.”

Her voice was hollow, distant- as she replied:

“This is all new to me, to us. We have much to learn about fighting together, especially at night." She stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath and looking away into the darkness, before she went on, “And you need to make sure you stay far enough away that I don't hit you since I can't see you. I'm night blind."

She glanced at me and then away, firmly sheathing the sword at her back.

Oh-hooo...YES!!...

BRILLIANT!!...Both of you...

Loved the Athynae monologue...Methinks they'll be away off to Kiw de Daedra!! soon enough... ...

Laughed at Athlain by the door all blushing and whatnot... ...Brilliantly done...

And then the brilliant descriptive fight against the werewolf...Wolves...Loved that it was all internalised and yet so vivid!!...Nicely done there... ...

Another brilliant episode...

Nice one!!!...

*Applauds most heartily*...

I wept. Poor headless werewolf.



Nice. A good bit of foreshadowing there too. Who knows what will happen before the speculated marriage with Athyne? Hmm.

A getting to really know each other part I think. To start with we have Athlain too awkward to be in a room with Athynae wearing less than the usual quota of clothes, but not naked. After what they've been through it's very him that he didn't just shrug and ignore it.

Then we have the night fight, neither is used to fighting with the other but there was tenderness almost afterward. A certain togetherness they haven't been forced close enough to develop. I'm sure there will be sparks too as it does though.

It's interesting that Athynae chose to hack off Athlain's dead, or at least mortally wounded, opponent. Some degree of insecurity over whatever she is feeling about having killed her first person (even if they were in werewolf form) perhaps, making her want more of the darkness which accompanies that. Whatever the reason she may have rather more on her mind for the remainder of the night. I suspect it might continue to gnaw until Athlain enquires, which may not be his best move.

A darkness as Olen put it accompanies this particular update; yet there is indeed a humanity within it.

S:"Keep in control. Only the necessary action for the desired effect. That's all any of it is, cause and effect. You are the cause, their last breath is the effect."

"Look down boy; you havent earned that sight. Even then; I still won't like it."

Ohhhh.....Liked this one! Thyna and Athlain really have a way of talking to each other...med me smile actually.


SS: "Thyna! You make him embarrassed! What are you thinking of, girl!"
Loved that part!

Athlain's fight..ooooohooo, could have been...ehhh awkward, right. These werewolves makes me scared, lycanthropy is gross.....brrrrr

SS:" Seth! Talk to me! What are you up to really? What do want with my daughter? I'm confused!"

I was intrigued by Athynae's inner ramblings - does her family all know something she doesn't? URK! Somehow I get the feeling it all has to do with Athlain.




Fantastic line !!




BWAAAHAAA !!!!


This chapter was a great one for the two to work together (finally, instead of Athynae showing up to scold when the fight was done, ROFL !!!) But more than that it was great for teasing us with a bit of foreshadowing and mystery - Loved it !!! Awesome Writes !!!

I thought that Athynae’s musings about her family’s distress were very well put. Her parents seem as if they’ve had a loss, or are expecting one. I guess I’ll have to wait and see.

Athlain having to take a walk before returning to the cabin made me smile. Despite their bond, in some ways there is still a vast distance between them. Theirs is a delightfully complex relationship!

The aftermath of the fight reminded me that Athynae is also on a journey, and probably will be even more so once her family decides that she can be entrusted with their secrets. The need to connect but still maintain autonomy within families can be a difficult balance even without mind readers about. This update seemed to wrap more layers around Athynae as they hiked from A almost to B through the wilderness. Tremendous!!

@McBadgere- Thank you- again. Athynae is definitely preparing herself for a confrontation with Hircine- and looking forward to it, as well. And poor Athlain- I have done the “take a bath in a stream that just melted off a glacier thing”- though for different reasons. He should be grateful that he really does have “Skyrim blood.” The fight scene- I always have trouble writing those… so decided to do it a little differently.

@Darkness Eternal- Yes- actually the werewolves are victims, too- compelled to act as “hounds” for the Hunter. I do not think ‘Thyna will ever quite see it that way, though. Marriage- hmmm, yes well- about that…. As she is HAPPY to point out- Athynae has yet to be ASKED. And… let’s just say there is the possibility of ANOTHER Daedra causing disruption to their plans. (Assuming I ever finish this story, that is).

@Olen- Yes- Athlain is still quite an “innocent” in many ways, regardless of the words of the false Glenmoril sister. The best way to describe his feelings about Athynae is to say they are… complicated. Passion is there, without question- but he feels constrained by more than simply his sense of honor. In his own words-“there might come a time for such a future.” And you again show your prescience as to one consequence of them fighting “together,” even though they need to develop better teamwork. And you are also quite astute about Athynae’s “overkill.” I think- and hope Athlain will be wise enough to NOT ask- that she is, for now, avoiding the fact that the werewolves are men as well as “beasts.”

@Black Hand- More humanity- and more darkness- coming up.

AS- But Uncle Seth, I am dealing with something I have never felt before- and YOU were so close!

AT- Yessir! I mean, no sir! I mean… but I didn’t SEE anything! I think I need to take another dip in the river.

@minque- Thank you so much. I think finally writing the two of them together is going to be great fun. Throughout, they have been seeking one another “geographically,” so to speak. Now comes the harder part- finding each other emotionally and spiritually.

@mALX- Yes, we find that Athynae is ALSO on a “journey of discovery,” in this case having to leave home in order to discover something about her family. We will get to see the fight scene from her point of view in this post- as well as more of her thoughts. Thank you so much!

@Grits- Being “uncertain” is uncharted territory for Athynae- meaning it is wonderful ground for her writer. And poor Athlain- she does to him what women have done to men from time immemorial- confuses the heck out of him. And yes- close as they are, there is so much that has never been spoken. We do hope that new posts will reveal more of the depth and complexity of Athynae, even as she tries to maintain the attitude that SHE is simple- it is just LIFE that has gotten complicated.

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The place we stopped to camp was not as guarded as I would have liked. There was something wrong with my vision that I had only started noticing when the sun had passed below the horizon. It wasn’t dark yet but the light was fading.

Athlain got a small fire burning as I pulled rations from my pack. I had no plans to draw anything to the smell of roasting meat. We would supplement the dried food with potions if need be, but there would be real food once we reached Bryn and Svenja at the mead hall.

I wrapped the bear pelt around my shoulders as I looked past the small fire to scan the forest beyond. All I could see was the orange red glow of the flames with a backdrop of black velvet. I’m just tired, I’m still healing. I consoled myself.

I could feel Athlain glancing at me, and knew he was worried. I was glad he didn’t ask any questions; I didn’t want to think about any of it just yet, not Hircine or lycanthropy, Uncle Seth, Mother or… suddenly my senses were on alert. It took less than a full breath to know what it was and the rest of the breath told me there were two coming from opposite directions. Damn. Here we go again. But this time it would be different.

I reached to pull my blade from behind my back. The sound, that ‘whess’, as I pulled it from the sheath always changed something inside, like I was taking off one “me” and putting on the other. Athlain was gaining his feet even as I stood and pulling his beautifully crafted, enchanted giant tenderizer from its loop. We turned, back to back, as he kicked dirt and doused the majority of the flames and I saw-nothing.

I blinked and shook my head to get my eyes to adjust-nothing. One beast was close enough that I could hear him breathing. I reached into my pouch drawing out a potion of Nighteye that I had made for Athlain. I downed it-nothing. I looked up wanting to see, needing to see, even just the twinkling stars in a night sky I knew was clear-nothing. Why did I leave home again? This just keeps on going, what is next? And I thanked Uncle Seth again for insisting that I spend some time training with a blindfold.

“You just never know what might happen- something thrown in your face, a spell. You need to have an idea of what it is like to fight blind.”

And the beast was there. I felt his body heat and the slight shift in the air to my left. I ducked and pulled my dagger as I avoided a strike. I stuck my dagger in his foot all the way through to soil and twisted as I pulled it free. I felt it as he leaned his head back to yowl. I punched hard to his mid section with my dagger hand and drew it across, even as I raised my katana and slid back. That should bring his head forward. And- whoosh- followed by the wet thud of his head striking the ground and his body crumpling just after.

I had not had time to make a full turn toward the sound of Athlain’s encounter when I felt the vibration under my feet as the other beast fell. I stepped forward; my foot touched it, and I swung, then nodded to myself as I heard its head rolling down the hill.

I just stood there, the nothingness in my vision emulated by my heart, I felt-nothing.

I flicked my blade and I could feel tears in my eyes, tears of anger and hatred and vengeance and No! Stop this! If you allow yourself to go down this path too far you will not be able to turn back. It is what it is. There are things that must be done, not for hatred or vengeance but for the safety of others and most of all for justice.

“Sorry ‘Thyna” his voice punctuated my return to reality. “I …have become so used to fighting alone that I did not think. I will do better next time.”

I looked toward his voice but could not see his face and I scanned the ground capturing the few glowing embers of the fire. I sheathed my blade trying to think of a way to respond to what he had said.

“This is all new to me, to us. We have much to learn about fighting together, especially at night.” And in the same tone with little emotion I added, “You need to make sure you stay far enough away that I don’t accidentally hit you since I can’t see you, I’m night blind.”

“You’re what?” I could feel him close behind me.

“I do not wish to talk about this just now, it is news to me too. And before you ask I do not know what happened or why. I need to think so if you would be so kind as to rebuild the fire so I have just a bit of light I would be tremendously grateful.” I really tried to keep the argumentative tone out of my voice but I wasn’t sure that I had succeeded.

“But Thyna…I don’t know…how did you?” His verbal attempt to put a question to words sounded much like my mind trying to wrap itself around this new challenge.

“I noticed a change in my vision when the sun dipped below the horizon just before we made camp. When you built the fire I tried to see beyond it and saw nothing. I smelled the vile beasts, a scent I will never forget. And when you kicked dirt over the flames the lantern went out before my eyes. I tried a Nighteye potion to no avail, so this is magic. Now, that is all I know to tell you at this time. Could you please let it rest for now?”

“No, not yet. I just need to know one more thing. I understand because of some of the situations I have found myself in how you managed to fight and kill your opponent, but how did you know? How did you decapitate the one I felled?” It really was just a curiosity question, so I tried to answer.

“When I turned toward the sound I heard him fall. I stepped toward you and my foot touched his; it was just a matter at that point of simple mathematics. The size of his foot should closely determine his height, but by the way the strike felt I believe I was a bit off. I think I left his lower jaw attached. I’ll do better next time.”

I felt his hand touch my elbow and I jerked my arm away before I thought. Do not over react- this is not the time. He is simply trying to do what he can because he doesn’t know what else to do. I forced myself to allow his intrusion into my space; he had no idea how hard that was.

“I will rebuild the fire before I do something with the trash.” He was trying to be humorous because he was scared now, I was too, and the one thing we both did when we were unsure of something was try to make it funny.

“Yes please. If you don’t it will stink up the living area soon.” But to me that was long past. The truth was right there for me, lessons from Mother about how man and mer adapt to challenges using the senses. If a person is deaf, their sight is enhanced as well as their sense of smell and touch. If a person is blind, well, now I knew…. Just practicing blindfolded was a great idea but it was not in truth comparable to this. I knew with the blindfold that I could take it off, but now in the dark of night I had no idea if the blindness was going to carry past sunrise or if what I had said was true and it was just night blindness.

What I had always considered fear before I got here I now knew was just apprehension, nervousness. Fear was so much more and I just kept getting dose after dose after dose and I wondered what in the name of the Nine had kept Athlain going through this day after day, night after night, if this was what he had felt. For the next first, and what a long list that was becoming since my arrival on this plane of Oblivion, I wondered if I had what it was going to take to do what must be done.

I sensed Athlain’s return from the disposal of the bodies. He said nothing and I realized I had my eyes closed. I didn’t want to open them because I wasn’t sure I was going to see the flame that was warming my face. He sat next to me, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body, but not touching me. He was letting me know the only way he could at that moment that he was honoring my request but also that he was there, that I was not alone in this.

I loved my family so very much, but there was a part of me that I had always kept somewhere apart, maybe for myself, took a bit of pride that I could, even should, fight my battles on my own. In that moment a circle completed itself as I permitted myself the luxury of the comfort of his presence. All the times he had pulled me close to him, all the times he had held me because he wanted to help, comfort, console were important but taken for granted. I expected that from him, but I shouldn’t. He had depended on me many times, leaned on me because he could and I wanted him to. He needed to know I was there because I cared. But I had never, that I could recall, truly leaned on him, depended on him, allowed myself to be vulnerable. I don’t know why that was; it was just the way I was made I suppose.

I had some warped belief that I had been at some level of ‘grown-up’ since I was four, since Mother had allowed me to have the bow the Ahemussa had given her when I was born to be my first. But truth told I had done more ‘growing up’ in the past months since Athlain had left home than I had done in the 17 and ½ years previous by a long measure. And since I had left home the first time to come and find him, the ‘growing up’ had been given a strong potion of ‘fortify speed’.

How do you tell someone that you have spent your entire life with and treated the way that I had treated Athlain that you were not trying to be mean, that you would change it if you could? But then I thought if I changed, would we be where we were? Would he be the man he had come to be? And would I love him as much as I did if he were less than what he was? It was far too much to consider, but I felt changes inside myself that I could not explain. I saw changes in Athlain that I was proud of, and some that I didn’t like as much, but all were things I was willing to deal with because the man that sat by my side, in this nightmare of darkness, I had a whole new respect for. He had stepped out from under the great shadow cast by his father, had fought the battle and become his own man.

I knew that our personalities would clash as they always had; it was what kept us close, as ludicrous as that sounded. But I would never take his presence for granted again; I would never assume that it was what he was “supposed” to do. I leaned my head over onto his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around me. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

That's just beautiful that is... ...

Brilliant...

Love the mostly internal monologues...So intense...*Applauds*...

Looking forward to finding all of where this is all going...Should be much fun!!... ...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds most heartily*... ...

Loved it! They are really developing their affection for each other! Oh I love that! But one question arises WHY is Thyna night blind?