Gift of Fate

[Mistress]

Taking a big bite of food she said flatly, “You’re a warrior...or use to be one.” Her eyes drifted back to him, “I can tell, I’ve been married to one for five summers. You have that worn look…and scars.”

He thought for a moment before answering, “Aye I use to be, no longer though.”

She nodded, “I married my husband when I was very young, at first it was not hard to live without him around, but now things seem so much more difficult. He has not returned, and summer will be here soon, it has never been this long before. Two full moons usually means they all will be arriving home, but yet no one has comeback. Many are worried…” She stopped speaking and then looked at him slyly, “Does your wife worry?”

A sudden flash of pain crossed his features and he said quietly, “She has been at peace for many summers now, she no longer worries.”

Catching the meaning of his words Flora felt her heart weep, her eyes expressing her sadness for him. She gulped down the last of her food and then glanced around the Tavern; everyone was busy taking care of their duties. Sighing she pushed the bowl away and then looked back at the man, “Can I trust you?”

Their eyes met again and he slowly nodded, “Aye, I hope that you will.”

Standing Flora held out her hand to him, “Come, I want to show you something, come on!” She smiled as he slowly got up not accepting her hand. She led him out of the Tavern and down the street, chattering about the town and showing him the buildings. Coming to the edge of the town they entered a field of beautiful colored flowers, Flora grinned and ran out into the middle of it spinning in a circle, “This, Cerus...is where I was born! In the spring not much more then nineteen summers ago!”

A smile spread across his face as he watched her run about in the flowers, bending and smelling them, dancing among them. He sat at the edge of the field, his eyes on her the whole time as she giggled and acted as if she was free of all cares and worries. He took in all that she was saying, she was so young, full of life and yet she was a wife, a future mother, and now unknowingly a widow. His heart leapt in his chest and he grimaced, his burden becoming harder and harder to bear with each passing moment around her.

 

[Wanderer D]

Breathing deeply the purfume of a picked flower, Flora sat next to where Cerus had knelt where he had watched her dance. They looked out over the field as it waved in the breeze, enjoying the calming feeling it brought to them both. Even with his burden, Cerus began to feel more comfortable around Flora.

"I had always wondered what she would do if I didn't come back, if she really understood there was always that chance. She would tell me she did, but faith always promised her I would be back..." He bowed his head, "But it never once occurred to me that she would not be there when I got back. She was always there, always waiting..." He sighed heavily.

"Is that why you are no longer a warrior?" she asked quietly.

Cerus looked up at a passing cloud, following its slow drift with his eyes. "No. No, if anything I became...the consumate warrior," he again bowed his head. Flora saw that there was no pride in his words. "I lost my fear of death. I...I didn't care. I threw myself into battle after battle. My men saw me as a leader, a true warrior. I only longed for death.

Each battle I challenged that final darkness, dared it to take me. And when I finally met my own death, finally looked it in the eye, I only saw another like me," he absently plucked away at the leaves on a nearby flower. "A warrior tired of the fighting, tired of the death. Yet he wasn't like me. Somebody waited for him, and he wouldn't be returning." Cerus sighed. It had all flowed out of him, like a dam breaking. The pouch on his arm was heavier than ever.

 

[Mistress]

“You killed him?” She asked, her eyes drowning him.

“Nay, someone else’s sword had gotten him, yet his saved me.” He said almost bitterly.

She sighed and looked up at the clouds with him, “You’re a good man Cerus, I can tell this.”

He glanced over at her, “I may be, but I have not always been.”

“Sometimes the past does not matter, for it gets in the way of the future…my grandmother use to say this. She was a wise woman at times, though many disputed her for not being a true blooded Decanti. I think however, it is the reason my grandfather fell in love with her.” She smiled, “He called her his white dove, I am told, I look a lot like her.” Giggling she held her arm up next to his sun tanned one….

He looked her over, her pale flesh glistening with the sun’s heat; he had noticed before how pale she was compared to all the Decanti’s he had ever seen. “I think it makes you unique.” He whispered softly, his cheeks flushing again.

Flora felt hers also burn she looked into his eyes, and her chest fluttered again. Breathing a bit faster then normal she cleared her throat and jumped up smiling, “Well, I must be getting back before Lunus worries, he is so protective.” She started walking back towards the Tavern then turned and tilted her head to the side smiling, “Coming, or will I see you later?”

 

[Wanderer D]

Cerus wanted to follow her, but he knew if he spent a moment longer with her he would tell her everything. He wasn't ready for that. Soon, but not now.

"Later," he smiled in the hopes she wouldn't be too disappointed. "I think I'll stay here and relax for a while. It's very peaceful here." Their eyes met. "And beautiful." He thought he saw her blush slightly. "But later most certainly." She nodded and turned.

"Thank you Flora. For showing me this place." Her smile was evident even with her back turned.

 

[Mistress]

She took her time walking back through the village, glancing behind her occasionally to see if she could catch a glimpse of him. At first she had an intense anger towards him but now…it was different. She almost felt with him the way she felt about Gilas when they first married, just an easy comfort. Shaking her head she looked up just as she was about to walk right into Rose.

“Child ye head is in clouds eh?” She eyed the young woman and placed her hand on the pale shoulder. “Ye must bring it back down to the rest of us.”

“What’s wrong?” Flora asked seeing the look in Rose’s eyes.

“There be some news, a runner finally came, beaten pretty badly but he made it back home. He says last battle before he left was a huge one. Many have died, he does not know all who, but spirits are with us.” The older woman sighed.

Flora felt herself go weak and she felt as if she would fall over. Rose quickly grabbed her and led her over to the side of a building. “Dear Gods child, please, lean here, rest!”

“I’m fine, I just got light headed.” She closed her eyes, “Gilas…did he mention Gilas?”

“Nay, but Luanda lost her husband and brother. Mia lost her son; they are all gathered near my shop.”

“The Runner?”

“It’s Matthew.”

“Ahh, Matthew, is he going to be ok?”

“Aye, bruised up, broken ribs, tough boy.”

Flora nodded and took a deep breath, “I have to get back to the Inn.”

“Yes, be careful girl.” Rose looked her over, “Be careful.”

Flora nodded, “Thank you Rose.” She found herself running by the time she made it to the Tavern. As she burst into the door she saw her family gathered and tears burst into her eyes.

Aselia ran to her and held her tight, “He’s ok Flora, and you have to believe that.”

“I must believe that.” She whispered.

 

[Wanderer D]

Breathlessly he stared into the eyes of the dying man. The look of anger turning to surprise, surprise becoming pain, then pain overcome by the spectre of death. He looked into the eyes of the first man he had ever killed and knew his life would never be the same. Before looking into the dead eyes of the warrior impaled upon his sword, Cerus had felt doubt... and fear.

The old warriors told of this many times before, and being a young, unblooded warrior, Cerus would puff up and proclaim his fearlessness. The old warriors laughed at the upstart and told him 'Ye'll be soilin' yer breeches afor the first meet o' steel.'

He had been spared that, but when the arrows rained down around him, when he and his comrades rushed forward at the call for swords, when crash of steel and cries of the first to die pounded his ears, he felt afraid. But his fear did not slow his feet, his doubt did not stay his sword, and as he pulled his blade from the dead man's chest he felt his doubt and fear die. Something else within him died as well.

He had been dying ever since...the last, bright spark of his life went dim when he walked into the cold, grey tomb that had been his home.

Now Cerus had come full circle. Somehow, Flora had brought fire back from the ashes. For the first time in as long as he could remember he felt alive... And again the doubt and the fear was there, but now he knew what came after: He knew that if he was to keep his promise to a dead enemy, he would have to kill Flora, and he knew that he would also die again.

Would a spirit dying by words be any less painful than flesh dying by steel?

 

[Mistress]

“Flora?” Haywyn’s voice filtered through the noise of the Tavern down stairs, “May I come in?”

She looked towards her door and then returned her gaze to the city outside of her window. “If you must.”

“You know I do.” He said as he opened the door and stood there, his eyes sad for her. “You should not worry yourself, you have no bad news as of yet. No bad news is good yes?”

“No, it’s the waiting that is bad.” She moved from the window and sat down in her chair, she ran her hand over the arm rests and smiled softly, “He made this for me, before we were to be married.”

“I remember.” Haywyn nodded and sat in the identical chair across from her. “He has made a lot of things with his love for you.”

Flora glanced at him, “I will be fine. It’s not just the worry Haywyn; it’s the pregnancy as well. I am just much too emotional.”

“We both know your emotions can not be blamed on the child. You have always worried yourself to sickness, only now doing so can be dangerous for you.”

“Dangerous?” She snorted, “I am not the one who is out fighting a war.”

“Nay, you are not, but you are the one who is pregnant and waiting for someone to come back from the War. Your worrying can complicate things, it can make you sick, which in return can harm your unborn child. Would you want that Flora? To cause harm, to Gilas’s unborn heir before there is even a cause to manifest such worry?”

Flora frowned, “You are too smart for your own good Nephew.”

He slightly smiled, “I have known you since before I can even remember, and we were raised together. It is only natural I know how to make you calm and think about the situations around you.”

“You need to be put over your father’s knee.”

He chuckled and held out his hand, “Come down stairs, and join everyone.”

Flora looked around her room and sighed then smiling she took his hand and followed him back down to the Tavern. She smiled at the patrons and nodded to her family members as Haywyn led her to the small cleared area for dancing. Feoras was playing his lute and a merry tune drifted about the building. Haywyn grinned and bowed, “come on Aunt, let’s show them how to dance.”

Flora giggled and winked at Lunus as Thad and his wife joined them on the floor. They bounced around, dancing to Feoras’s music. She twirled and clapped in time, her heart lifting for just that moment as she spent it with the ones she loved…her family.

 

[Wanderer D]

Flora was a strong woman - Cerus kept telling himself this, as if the strength he saw in her would, somehow, give him the strength to tell her.

The runner's news had reached to his ears even before he returned to the tavern late that afternoon. Cerus retreated to his room as soon as he returned; the thought of looking Flora in the eyes was unbearable. But the next morning, as he watched her tending to her chores, he saw the shadows of doubt and fear fall upon her otherwise bright and smiling face whenever she thought no one watched. Sometimes she would pause in the middle of whatever she was doing, her eyes unfocused and thoughts far away, then moments later continue on as if she hadn't a care in the world.

More than one of those wondrously shining smiles were for him, and it took all Cerus' strength for him to give her his own.

This couldn't go on. With the word from the front-lines, every passing moment was a pained torment to her. The dispair held back by a thread of hope would only grow.

Over and over Cerus chewed upon these thoughts. Useless, he knew. Tell her. Tell her and get it over with. Just tell her, dammit.
Tell her.