by M. D. Grimm
I had failed to protect my first home.
Damned if that would happen again.
***
Master Ulezander had joined us for a tense supper, but then surprised Morgorth with a late lesson. They tromped out under the swiftly darkening night, and I only sighed in defeat. Morgorth and I had to talk about it, but I wasn't eager for that conversation. I felt bad for what I said, for what I didn't say. I knew Morgorth did as well. I knew he loved me. I knew he wanted me with him.
I also knew he was scared about what might happen to me if he wasn't around. It wasn't that he didn't think me capable, I was sure; it was just simple fear. Fear I felt for him as well. But I didn't yell at him for being reckless, for doing what needed to be done. He shouldn't yell at me.
I stripped and crawled into our bed. I was surprised how easily I fell asleep. I woke slightly in the middle of the night to feel Morgorth getting in the bed beside me. He was damp and smelling of soap as he lay next to me. He seemed to hesitate before curling against my back. He fell asleep almost immediately. My heart ached slightly as I joined him.
It wasn't long before the nightmare started. Not mine, but his.
I wasn't the only one plagued by haunting memories.
He jerked against me, and my eyes snapped open, immediately awake. I rolled over to see him tangled in the blankets, sweating, a small whimpering sound coming from him. His breath hitched on a sob, and I once again desired the painful death of his father, his tormentor.
My heart broke, watching him suffer. I grabbed his arms, and he immediately fought against me, still trapped in some dark place I couldn't go and protect him.
"Morgorth, easy. Wake up, my love. Wake up. Come back to me."
I crushed him against me as he struggled to claw out of the memories.
"Come back to me," I whispered.
He did, slowly. He suddenly gasped beside me, lying limp, panting. I never loosened my hold as I started to stroke his hair.
"I'm here, Morgorth, I'm here."
He trembled, burying his face in my chest. Then he cried. I closed my eyes. He had been scarred so deeply by the abuse he suffered as a child, deeper than the scars that showed on his skin. He had been made to feel like a tool, something to be used. Not a child to be loved and cherished. I kissed the top of his head.
He suddenly pulled away from me and rolled over, presenting his back.
"I'm sorry." His voice was still thick and shaky.
I curled around him, kissing the back of his neck. "Don't be. Ever. I'm here. I'll always be here."
He gripped my hand, bringing it under his chin. "You had better."
We hadn't talked about our argument yet, and while there might still be anger between us, right now we understood each other. We still needed to talk, but our love for one another wasn't in question. I didn't sleep much the rest of the night, but despite Morgorth's nightmare he still fell asleep swiftly and deeply. I stood guard over him, ready to snatch him out of a dream if he needed me to. In the morning, he didn't look particularly rested. In fact, he looked irritated and scowled a lot.
"What's the matter?" I dressed as well, tired of watching him glare at everything.
"Nothing," he answered stubbornly.
I rolled my eyes. "Stop acting surly and tell me, Morgorth. What is bothering you?"
He dragged his hand through his hair. "The nightmares, Aishe. I shouldn't be having them."
I blinked. "What?"
He scowled at me. "You heard me. It was a long time ago. An entire lifetime ago. Why does my mind see fit to make me relive them? Why am I so weak as to fall victim to that damn monster again and again? I escaped him."
He prowled around the room, fidgety and restless.
"You aren't weak, Morgorth," I said patiently. "Your first memories were formed in pain and misery. They were the first things you learned."
"That shouldn't matter."
"Why?"
"It was so long ago!" Morgorth rounded on me. "I'm a mage, for Mother's sake! I control and harness the essence of Creation. Magick is inside me, infused to my life source. It should be over and done with. Why do I still allow that bastard in my head?"
My heart ached. I didn't know how to comfort him.
"You know I still have nightmares about my tribe," I said softly. "I still cry with grief, now and again. Does that make me weak?"
His face softened, and some pain -- probably in memory of our previous argument -- entered his face. "No, it doesn't, Aishe. But it's not the same."
"Why?"
"Your tribe." He paused. He looked away, and I realized he was choosing his words carefully. "They died not very long ago. It's still fresh for you. Not for me. It's not the same." He sighed. "Besides, I'm a mage."
I raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying that because you're a mage, you can't suffer emotional trauma?"
He paused again, staring at me. "You don't understand."
Now I was becoming angry. Again. "What don't I understand this time, Morgorth? You've been hurt. Scarred. Scarred deeper than those that are on your skin. You're wounded Morgorth, and you've been limping through life, and only now have you allowed yourself to heal. You should've been cherished and protected, but you weren't. Now it's my job to do that."
He seemed stunned by my words. "Your job..." He shook his head. "You seem to think a lot of things are your job, lately."
I didn't have an answer for that.
"I don't think I'm wounded, Aishe." He walked to me, and before I could respond heatedly, he touched his fingers to my lips. "But I was numb, and I was unhappy. You changed that. For that I thank you."
He was wounded no matter how much he denied it. I wrapped my arms around him, the anger still with me. It was he who didn't understand. He'd never had a home before, only this one, the one he'd made. He'd never had a home wrenched away by blood and death. I'd had a home once, and I desperately wanted that again. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, this was my home, and I would protect it by whatever means necessary.
Chapter Nine
The next day during morning training, a querian came for Morgorth. I allowed the little messenger to rest on my shoulder as Morgorth opened the letter. The querian was a distant cousin to the great payshthas. This one wasn't from around here -- he only had a pair of wings, which made up his forelimbs, and a pair of back legs. His tail was very long, able to wrap twice around my neck. He had little horns dotted around his face, with a fan of scales around the back of his head, and was a dark, glistening red.
His little claws dug gently into my shoulder to hold his perch, but he was conscious of his strength. I gently rubbed the ridges above his eyes. He purred.
I watched Morgorth's face brighten, a large grin spreading across his face as he read the letter.
"What is it?" I asked.
"The ludki found another stone," he nearly sang.
I smiled even as my heart stuttered. Another stone? How many did he have already? I couldn't remember. I liked to forget that he had them in a secret room in Geheimnis. While part of me was proud of him for collecting them, hiding them, and never using them, the other part was terrified. They brought bad luck. They brought death. A stone had destroyed my tribe. Would a stone destroy my mate? He'd yet to use one, but if he continued to have them at his fingertips, it would only be a matter of time, wouldn't it? If his destiny held true, then having the stones so close would be disastrous. But I also knew why he did it -- it was for that exact reason. He wanted to prove to himself that he was above temptation. That he could have them near, and still resist their powerful allure.
As I said -- proud and terrified.
"What stone have they found?" Master Ulezander asked.
Morgorth folded the letter. "They don't know the names of them, but they said it's purple. Maybe an amethyst?"
"Perhaps. We won't know until we see it."
I understood what they meant. The number and names of the Stones of Power were unknown. But should a mage come across one,
sense it, they instantly knew the stone's name and purpose. The stones were intimately linked with mages, and as each stone had a personality, they seemed to seek out mages specifically.
"We should leave immediately." Morgorth looked at me. His happiness left his face. "Aishe-- um. Master? Could you give us a moment?"
"Of course." He walked away.
My stomach tightened. I had a feeling I knew what he would speak to me about.
He approached me. "The ludki are shy, and... They already know Master Ulezander. To bring all three of us, one they don't know, into their homes... They wouldn't..."
He fumbled, then just stood there. I could see he was struggling with his words.
I sighed. "I understand. I will stay here."
"I don't want to leave you," he said quickly. "But I have to."
I nodded. "We still need to speak, you know."
"I know. We will." He hesitated a short moment before closing the distance between us and kissing me lightly on the cheek.
I had to smile. I shook my head and cupped the back of his, pressing our lips tightly together. The querian leapt off my shoulder and into the air as Morgorth's arms came around my waist, pulling me tighter against him.
When I finally allowed us some air, color was back in his face, his eyes bright.
"I won't be long. Promise."
"Good. Don't be."
***
He was gone. I was depressed. This was the first time we'd been apart since pledging our love. I didn't like it. Perhaps I was weak. Perhaps I was dependent. It really didn't matter -- I only knew how I felt. And I felt miserable. It reminded me far too much of what it was like when he first left me.
Vorgoroth seemed lifeless, and the trees couldn't entertain me. Even they seemed listless in the absence of their master. Geheimnis felt empty and hollow, and the secrets I had yet to discover within its walls couldn't pique my interest. Also, the boygles followed me with their beady, malicious eyes everywhere inside the fortress.
Trying to occupy myself, I took my time walking down the various corridors, gazing at the framed paintings that mixed with the tapestries upon the walls. Paintings Morgorth had done himself. They were so detailed, so meticulous, and delightfully realistic. The paintings were of landscapes, either from various locations on Karishian, or from Earth. As I stared at one of them, gazing at the mountains in the distance, the trees in the foreground, the random bunches of flowers along the bottom, I could pretend I was actually there, seeing the beauty with my own eyes. He was humble, almost embarrassed, about his talent with the brush. It calmed me, soothed me, to look upon these paintings. Morgorth could see beauty. He could see it, appreciate it, and replicate it. My mate was cynical by nature, and rather gloomy sometimes, but his paintings proved he could see more than the ugliness that happened in life.
As I wandered around the castle, deciding what I would do to occupy my time, I came across a corridor I didn't recognize. Frowning, I looked around the narrow passageway where upon my right there was a solid stone wall, but to my left were a series of thin, carved pillars which connected to a railing. I walked over to the railing and looked down, only to gasp in shock and wonder. Sunk into the ground in a large square was an indoor garden. Whatever the enchantment used to keep those plants alive inside the cold walls was a strong one. I could barely see the other side of the garden, but I could discern enough that it was a pillared railing as well.
I didn't see any steps down to the garden and wondered if there were any. I leaned my elbows on the railing, clasping my hands together and staring at the colors all those flowers offered. Morgorth would have shown this to me if I'd not told him to let me discover his home by myself. I found it greatly satisfying to discover all his secrets on my own, and then have him take me on a tour of those places, so he might explain more about them.
Gazing at the garden, my heart ached. The foliage seemed to give off its own soft light, which created dim shadows on the walls. I could identify about half of the plants, but the other half were too exotic for my knowledge. The air was perfumed with the flowers' scent, but it didn't overpower. I realized it was warm in here, much warmer than in any other part of the fortress.
I didn't know how long I stayed there, but while part of me was still fascinated by this place, most of me was bored. Morgorth wasn't here for me to ask him questions, to learn more about the secrets this place had.
I managed to roll my eyes at myself. I was pathetic. Sighing loudly, I turned and left the corridor, making my way confidently to the front doors. I had to get some fresh air, but I doubted that would comfort me. Reaching the front doors, I pulled on my coat, which I'd slung over the back of a large sofa when I'd come inside. I pulled it tightly around me and headed out the door, but stopped when, from behind me, Grendela spoke.
"You make him weak."
My jaw clenched as I turned, facing her squarely.
"No. I don't." I struggled to keep my voice calm. "Together, he and I are stronger than we are apart. We defeated the necromants. You do remember that, don't you?"
She wasn't convinced. I could tell by her continued stare, her pursed lips. Five other boygles stood behind her, staring at me with faces carved from stone. No expression, nothing on their faces to give away their feelings.
I lightly fingered my amethyst pendant. It was warm and soothing. But I still told myself to sleep with one eye open until my mate returned.
I turned my back on them and made my way outside. At least they didn't follow me with their hostility. I took a deep breath of the chilly, damp air and pushed my thoughts to something productive. It was only midday, the same day he and his mentor had left. My mate would be gone for two days, maybe three. I had to find something to occupy my time. I was never one to be idle.
I could visit Happy Valley. Perhaps there I would find some comfort, some joy. I could visit Thyn again. I turned my head, gazing in the direction of the village, just barely seeing the roofs of some of the taller buildings far past the trees. Shaking my head, I realized I didn't want to see Thyn or other creatures enjoying themselves. It would just make me envious.
I left the landing, making my way down the mountain to the ground. I came out of the opening, and the trees quivered but still seemed a little listless. I knew how they felt. I found myself walking aimlessly for a short time before I stopped, forcing myself to choose a task to bend my mind to. Just as I decided to go back to arrow making, Lansa, Morgorth's fasion messenger, came diving between the branches above, squawking fiercely. I spun around, my heart pounding, a chill running down my spine. I'd only seen Lansa act this way once -- when the two armies of necromants had marched toward us from the north and the south.
"Lansa! Calm yourself." I held out an arm, but Lansa just flew in circles around my head, making me dizzy. I couldn't understand anything he was saying.
"Lansa!" I said again. Growing increasingly irritated, I dropped my bow, reached up with both hands and grabbed him. He struggled, his black eyes whirling with panic. He was a big, black bird with a sharp beak and talons. He scratched me a few times, but they weren't deep.
"Lansa." I tried to keep my voice calm. "Still yourself." I hugged him to my chest. "Easy, easy."
His heart was frantic against my arm. He really was terrified. I knew the matter was urgent, but I couldn't rush the bird. I couldn't help if I didn't know what was going on, and I needed Lansa calm before he could tell me.
The bird finally stopped struggling, and his squawking finally became discernible. "Invasion! Army! Invasion!"
I froze. The storm inside me, one I'd managed to calm, distract, or simply ignore, burst to the forefront, and I let it. I wanted it. Lowering my arms, Lansa took to the air once more, hovering in front of me.
"Commander! Where is my master?" Since the wichtln started to call me Commander, the other minions had taken up the title.
"Not here." I reached down and grabbed my bow. "What army?"
"North army! On the eastern border."
&
nbsp; Eastern, huh? That was the darker part of Vorgoroth. Interesting. But why now? How did they know Morgorth wasn't going to squash them like bugs? What was their purpose? It was still winter; the weather was still harsh and unforgiving. Morgorth assumed the northern king was daft, but was he really so desperate for this land he would sacrifice his men so readily? Was he really dying, and was that making his decisions rash?
A sickening thought entered my head. Maybe they knew Morgorth had left. Maybe they thought his home was unprotected. That could only mean that we had a traitor in our mist. A spy. My grip on the bow tightened, my knuckles turning white. Betrayal would not be born. Not ever. My uncle's face flashed through my mind's eye. My hands suddenly burned with memory of the executioner's sword. His taunting words echoed in my head.
But worse than that betrayal came another memory, one I wished desperately to forget. After Kayl had nearly fatally wounded Morgorth, he'd begun to gloat. He'd told me, bluntly, that my brother, Eulun, had helped him gain Rambujek. He'd implicated my brother in the massacre of my tribe.
True or not, I couldn't believe him. I emotionally couldn't believe him. Eulun had been a lot of things, but a traitor? I'd seen the disgust on his face as he'd kicked our uncle, his desire for the dialen's death. My brother a betrayer? I shook my head.
Sucking in a breath, I pushed myself to focus on the now. The past could not be unwritten, and the only ones who knew the truth about that alleged betrayal were Eulun and Kayl. But I didn't believe Kayl for a moment. I couldn't.
I looked up at Lansa. I would find the traitor after I took care of the army.
I thought about Morgorth. I thought about contacting him. I could send a querian, and he would come quickly...
No.
This was my home, and I would protect it. I was a warrior. I was a dialen of the Ravena tribe. I looked at the black bow in my hand, the symbols generations of warriors had carved into the wood. No, I wouldn't call Morgorth. This was for me.