A Change of Course

[_Kynwric_]

Madoc had been in the practice courtyard all day long, he had spent most of the day working on his archery as it had always been the worst of his weapon skills and he need it to improve so he could better fight the Shadowspawn that threatened the Aiel in what seemed like ever increasing frequency. The last two had been only a couple of months apart and that was troubling when there were times in recent memory when the Hold, even as close to the blight as they were, could go years without seeing even one group of Trollocs in the blight. He was winding down his day with some spear and buckler sparring with his uncle and since they were the last pairing of the day they had the ring to themselves, but for those standing on the sidelines watching.  It was obvious Madoc had improved greatly over the months; however, he was still no match for his mother’s brother who had spent years working with the spear and over whom Madoc had no reach advantage.  As he weaved in and out with Jian, he noticed a peeved looking Mordre lurking on the outskirts of the circle. He knew she was a Wise One’s Apprentice, which had shocked him since all of their lives she had wanted to do nothing but take up the spear and join the Maidens. His distraction was not missed by Jian, who took the opportunity to lash out with the spear and tag Madoc in the head , after which he received a look incredulity until Jian himself turned his head to see what had distracted Madoc.

 

Madoc's attention jerked back to Jian as he heard the man speak, “Ach, look at that, poor boy can’t concentrate on his spears when there’s a pretty girl about. What’s he going to do when dancing the spears with some Maiden?”

 

A voice rang out from across the ring, he recognized the voice of Asienda, a Maiden, “The same as all you men do, Jian. Lose and put on white and serve us tea and oosquai under our roof. Maybe we’ll make that give us a kiss though. Madoc would likely enjoy a game of Maiden’s Kiss. “

 

Before Jian could reply though someone else took up his case, “Since when can a man not appreciate the finer things in life? You must admit that even you, Asienda, were distractable at that age by certain young men, just as you were by pretty oyoung women Jian. Or do you forget that is how you ended up married? Besides, those two have been making eyes at each other since they were old enough to be off their mother's hips.” That made Madoc drop his eyes and he could feel the flush rising in his cheeks. He reset himself and raised his spear and buckler hoping to get another round in, but Jian just shook his head and gestured for him to leave the ring. They were done. “Go see her boy, I know you’d rather spend your time there than here.” Madoc started to protest, they were just friends, that they’d always been friends, but his tongue stopped as he recalled that the last time he’d said that not only had the jeering gotten worse from the warriors but he’d gotten the rough side of Mordre’s tongue to boot. He would never, ever, understand women and certainly not Maidens, or those who wished to be a Maiden.

 

After putting aside his weapons and buckler he slid through the crowd to where Mordre was standing, he did have to admit that she looked much different in the blouse and skirt of a Wise One than in Cadin’sor. He let his eyes rove for a moment, appreciating the differences in her appearance, before realizing what he was doing and locking his eyes on to hers as he approached. “Mordre.” He said in simple greeting , “Find some free time today?”

[U4ea]

Mordre stared at the two Wise Ones sitting at the table across from her. “You’re serious about this?” she asked quietly, wondering if this was some punishment for an imagined slight. She didn’t owe these two toh, so why would they ask this of her?

 

“Quite,” Shri answered, her voice not changing in tone. “It is for his own good. From the blush on your cheeks, you know it, as well. Go, save him.”

 

Mordre fought the urge to glare at her mentor. “Why me? He will not accept this from me. It would be best coming from one of you, who he respects and…”

 

“Your duty is not to question, Mordre. Go now. There is not much time to waste in this.” The other Wise One, Andreena, snapped at her, this time. Mordre sighed and nodded, lowering her head.

 

She left the small hut with her shoulders rounded and her head down, her mind whirling as she fought to find some reason why Madoc would listen to her, some reason that didn’t involve what she had seen when she’d made her first trip to Rhuidean. He could not know what she’d seen, but the fact that the others were pressing her to do this meant someone else had seen it, too. Someone with a far more loose tongue than she had! She lifted her head as she drew closer to the courtyard where she was sure she’d find him practicing. She wasn’t disappointed and she paused, allowing herself a moment to take in the differences in her friend. She saw him often enough, had since they were children. She hadn’t taken the time to really see him in a rather long time, though. He’d always just been Madoc! She’d avoided thinking about what she’d seen in Rhuidean, but watching him draw his bow, the muscles stretching across his shoulders…

 

She shook herself and stepped up to the edge of the courtyard. She was close enough to hear a few of the comments tossed about, but chose to ignore them. It was far from the first time she’d heard such banter and knew it would be far from the last. Especially if…

 

She cleared her throat as he drew closer to her, noting the appraisal in his eyes and wondering if he was thinking the same things she was thinking. Her expression hardened a bit, and she kept her lips pressed into a tight line as he came closer. ”Mordre. Find some free time today?” he asked, his voice as light as it always was.

 

“Not precisely,” she answered, wondering how to proceed. “Can you walk with me? Am I taking you away from your training?”

 

When they were safely away from prying ears, she took a deep breath. “Is revenge the reason why you train with the Thunder Walkers?” She wasn’t able to look at him as she asked, and barely managed to peek under her lashes at him as she waited for a response. She’d rather walk barefoot into the Blight than do this, but when the Wise Ones gave you a task, you’d better return with it completed! Was it too much to ask that he’d just take her advice and not argue? She sighed. This was Madoc, of course it was too much to ask. He was a stubborn, willful, trolloc of a man. Steering him away from the path he chose to the path they chose for him was going to be as easy as redirecting a fist of shadowspawn from a tasty town of Light-blinded oathbreakers! In a word, impossible. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for a spear… 

 

~Mordre

Edited June 26, 2013 by U4ea

[_Kynwric_]

Madoc nodded as she asked him to walk, wondering what this was about. “I can walk with you, training is done for today. I was apparently too distractible…” he let that thought trail off without finishing it and then talked on. He wanted to ask if the jeers bothered her, but knew that she would never admit to it. Instead he made some stupid, responsible sounding comment and regretted not asking what had actually been on his mind. “Let us stop by my mother’s Roof though, so I can drop off my weapons, unless you want to spar?” He said it as a light-hearted jest, knowing that she was an Apprentice Wise-One now and would not take up a spear save in the most desperate of situations. The look on her face when he asked it though quickly shut his mouth and they continued the rest of the stroll to his home and then away without a word.

 

When they were finally away from everyone else in the Hold, or at least it seemed they were, Mordre finally spoke. “Is revenge the reason why you train with the Thunder Walkers?”

 

His gait took a falter, a huge hitch in his step, that he made up for quickly. This had definitely not been a topic that he’d thought she’d come to talk about. “This is what you want to talk of? The Thunder Walkers?” He expressed in slight disbelief. They’d spent a childhood and adolescence together, and while he’d expected some deep philosophical discussion about their duties and obligations, he had not expected to be questioned about the choices he was making concerning the path his life was taking, it hardly seemed relevant whether he spent his time scouting, fighting for the Hold, Sept and Clan or fighting Shadowspawn in the blight. Before the death of his father it had been obvious that Madoc was headed for life as a Knife Hand or Stone Dog, he had the physical and mental tools for either and with his mother’s brother having taken up more and more of his weapons training with the spear it seemed Stone Dog was his destination. Of course, that had changed after the battle with those Trollocs and the Fade. He realized he had let his thoughts drift, and after taking a moment he composed his thoughts and answered, having given some thought to denying the question outright. However, he had never lied to Mordre though, no matter the subject and he saw no reason to start now. It would be a greater dishonor to lie about his feelings and how it shaped his decision than it had been to admit to allowing those feelings to shape his path. “It is part of it, yes. I do not want my father’s death to have been in vain. Those creatures find their way out of the blight into the Threefold Land with increasing frequency. They do not seem to fear us anymore and I wish to put the fear of the light and the Aiel back into them.” He trailed off, thinking, but quickly followed up, with his own question. “Why?”

[U4ea]

Mordre saw that she'd taken him unaware and barely kept from smiling about that. "Why?" she repeated, looking at him without adjusting her step. "It is simply that I always felt you were better suited for harder work, Knife Hand or..." she paused, pinning him with her eyes. "... a Stone Dog, perhaps?" She waited a breath, letting that sink in and when she was sure he'd make some jest, she continued. "You are hardy suited for the Thunder Walkers, no matter how your father chose his path. You trained with a Stone Dog before his death, why do you change that after?"

 

She stopped and squared her shoulders with him. "You should stop this nonsense, Madoc. You are not meant for the Thunder Walkers. Turn your attention to where it is needed most," the visions of the future where he'd traveled down the path with the Thunder Walkers blazed in her memory, causing her to stutter a bit as she continued. "You truly wish to spend your day running to a fro, hoping to prove yourself to your dead father by taking down a handful of trollocs on your own? Dying in a cookpot, perhaps? Would his memory not be better served by continuing on the path you were taking before his death?" 

 

She knew she'd gone the wrong direction at the expression on his face, but frustration pushed her onward. If she could keep him out of that cookpot, she'd do whatever she had to do. The path of the Stone Dog was safer for him, better for the Aiel, and... she shoved her thoughts of how much better it would be for her, as well, aside as she braced her hands on her hips, readying for his assault. "Come, Madoc, explain to me why trying to be your father will do anything to bring him back!" 

 

~Mordre

[_Kynwric_]

Madoc stopped walking, turning to face her as she spoke, “My father was a Knife Hand Mordre, it didn’t stop him from dying to one of the Eyeless; as many others there that died that day weren’t Thunder Walkers. Stone Dogs and Maidens included.” He itched to turn this into a fight, but kept his calm… mostly. “I do not think that the wheel will suddenly reverse itself and spin my father back out simply because I’ve decided to kill as many of those vile creatures as I can lay spear to.” He looked down at Mordre, “What is this really about Mordre? You have never had the slightest interest in my decisions up until this point. Why when I decide to chase Trollocs do you all of a sudden become interested?” It was then he realized she had implied that he was not doing what his duty. It made him tighten in both fear and anger and he reached out to take hold of her arm so she couldn’t turn away as she was want to do when she didn’t want to answer something. “What do you mean I am not ‘meant’ for the Thunder Walkers?” He drew himself up to his full height, waiting for her to answer, but he was expecting to hear that it was some Wise One nonsense about him not doing what he should be.

[U4ea]

Mordre flinched as he curled his hand around her arm and the anger in his time filled her with regret. She hasn't meant to make him angry. Her regret fueled her frustration, though, and her responses came out more rough than she had intended. "When have I ever been interested? Madoc, when have u ever not been interested? I sparred with you while you trained, stood next to you as they told you of your father. I listened while you ranted about the unfairness of his life being taken away and I hoped that you would understand your father's place was not your own!"

 

She shrugged his hand off of her arm, sure he'd left bruises, but too angry to care. "What do I look like to you, Madoc? A simpering outlander? When I say you added nut meant for the Thunder Walkers, I mean that you, the Madoc I knocked off his roof when he tried spying on the Maidens, is not fit for the Thunder Walkers! It's that not what I said?"

 

She took a few steps away and turned back to him. "Since when are you so stubborn and sure that every decision you make its a good one? Do you honestly believe that I am not here with the backing of no less than two Wise Ones? It is the will of the People, Madoc. The Aiel need you to cost another path. Let me know when you've dug your head out of your mother's fire pit enough to discuss THAT!"

 

She turned on her heel and stormed back to Shri's hut, her mind running a streaming rant about how stubborn men were and why they just couldn't listen when people were giving them advice.

 

She pushed her way into Shri's hut, crashing into a stool near the table and taking up the mixing of a stomach tincture that she'd been working in before Shri had pulled get away from it. She didn't get to work very long before Shri stepped in and stopped next to her.

 

"Did you honestly think that would work?" The Wise One asked, her hands folded in front of her.

 

"You know?" Mordre asked, dread entering her voice.

 

Shri laughed softly, drawing Mordre's attention away from the task she was mangling in anger. "I believe most of the clan heard you or were nearly run over by you, so yes, I know." 

 

"I didn't know how else to tell him, Shri, and... he's just so stubborn! He over-thinks everything, assuming I was insulting him instead of hearing what I was saying!" Mordre's vice was getting higher and louder and she stopped and took a deep breath. "How do you convince a man to follow a different path without telling him that you've seen his future, should he continue down the road he's on? How do you tell him that everything he wants will be his; his revenge, his standing in the clan, everything, if he'll just turn around and go back the way he was headed before this rock was thrown in his path?"

 

Shri smiled knowingly and patted Mordre's shoulder. "You said it yourself, Mordre. He's a man. When you want a man to do something, you start not with reason, but with distraction."

 

Mordre wrinkled her brow, her hands dropping into her lap. She didn't understand... then she caught a glimmer in Shri's eye and realization settled in. "You want me to use my body to get him to change his mind?"

 

"Not your body, Mordre, though that could get you closer to your goal than you think. Just use your charm, I'm sure you've got some in there somewhere, and lead him into the decision."

 

Shri nodded and wandered away, leaving a baffled Mordre starting after her.

 

~Mordre

[_Kynwric_]

Madoc let her go when she was done throwing her tantrum, he let his gaze linger on her as she stalked back off into the hold and once she was out of sight he took in  a deep breath and let out a long sigh. He was certain what Mordre was telling him was what she thought was correct, what he couldn’t puzzle out was how what she thought was right, or more importantly what the Wise Ones thought was right, and what he thought was right were so drastically different from one another. But her berating him about how they knew better for him than he, himself, did… that galled.

He made his way through the smaller alleys and streets leading back to his home and he slid in the door as silently as he could, but it didn’t matter as his mother called out for him to come into the back room. He did so and Merina turned to look at her son, the entire gaze of a Wise One bearing down on him. “You shouldn’t treat Mordre so harshly, she is merely doing her duty.”

 

Madoc narrowed his eyes and set his jaw, “She was trying to choose my life’s path for me, not advise me mother, choose it for me. It was like being called down for stealing the sweets from the tray before supper.”

 

Merina smiled one of those smiles, like you had just stuck your foot in the viper’s pit as she intended and Madoc nearly visibly winced from it. “She is young yet, Madoc and she’ll learn subtlety with time. Shri came to see me while you were out, wanted my opinion of your choice.” She turned back to the bowl she had been working in when he’d come in as she spoke. “I told her your choice was your own, I wouldn’t make it for you and that you were as intractable as your father when you feel you were being pushed.”

 

 

Madoc slid to a crouch, leaned up against the wall. “I am now wetlander who thinks of nothing more than his next drink or next shade. I have thought this through.”

 

“I know you have, my son. Which makes the question not did you make the right decision, but did you have all the facts?”

 

Madoc began to protest, but the slight cock of his mother’s head made him close his mouth and reassess his position. Then, more calmly, he asked, “Do I have all the facts?”

 

Merina smiled a smile he couldn’t see for her back was turned, although he could hear the contentment in her voice and he knew he’d been fully ensnared in what she wanted him to think about. “For that Madoc, you will have to ask Mordre. She is the one who saw what she saw and no other can tell you that story. And much of what she saw is locked in the secrets of Rhuidean, which you are not yet meant to know.”

Madoc rose thoughtfully from his crouch and snagged a bit of bread from the tray sitting on the counter before heading back out of his mother’s roof, ducking his head to make it under the lintel, and strode back out into the streets to think on what his mother had said and what Mordre had said, and he began to run, a run always cleared his head.

[U4ea]

Mordre stared into the fire long after Shri went to sleep. Her arms were wrapped around her legs and a thick shawl was draped over her shoulders to ward off the cool night air. She was sitting on the floor, however, so it wasn't long before the cold from the earth seeped into her bones and forced her to move. She curled up in a chair, instead, the flames holding her in a trance as her thoughts raced in her head. How was she to convince Madoc to avoid the fate she'd seen in Rhuidean? How could she make him understand that he'd die that way, and soon, without telling him why she knew these things. Her mind raced, running every scenario through her head and still coming up empty. Shri had advised her to use her "charms" to change his mind. Part of her cringed at the very idea, but the other parts, the ones who remembered what she'd seen as she'd passed through a different vision caused her cheeks to burn. She'd never thought of Madoc that way until her trip to that ancient city and now she couldn't seem to shake loose of them. 

 

She leaned her head back on the chair, pulling the shawl tighter around her chest. If she were to take Shri's advice, she could convince him that she wanted him around more, something that would happen more as a Stone Dog than a Thunder Walker. It wasn't altogether untrue, though it might plant ideas in his head that he hadn't considered, either. That thought made her pause and her brow furrowed. Did he ever think of her that way? Would he even be able to interact with her in such a way that it wouldn't feel like his little sister was flirting with him? Did he see her as a woman or as the girl he'd grown up playing with in the street between their houses? 

 

So many questions! At last the fire died down to reddened coals, which she spread over the pit. The Gaishan nodded at her as she passed him the small rake she'd used to spread the coals around, acknowledging the unspoken order to tend the last of the fires until morning. She took herself to bed for a fitful night's sleep as her dreams taunted her with possibilities, both ugly and... not so ugly...

 

****************************************

Morning broke without any resolution to her problem and she was pushed out of Shri's small hut very early. She sighed, wishing she could avoid Madoc and going for a walk, instead. These skirts weren't made for running, which irritated her, though she was loath to admit it. She avoided the training grounds she'd found Madoc in the previous day and skirted the edge of town, hoping for some fresh air and clarity. 

 

In the distance, however, she saw the very thing she was trying to so hard to avoid. Madoc had apparently begun his morning run early. Worse, given that they weren't concealed very well, here, he'd likely already seen her, too. To turn away would be disgraceful, intimating some level of shame on her part. Since she wasn't sorry for anything she'd said to the giant thundering her way yesterday, she wasn't about to collect toh by avoiding him. She could curse him silently in her head, though, which is what she did with every step that brought them closer together. 

 

~Mordre

[_Kynwric_]

Madoc had been lost in thought when he came around the slight rise that hid the entrance to the hold, he’d been out here to run, think and avoid Mordre but the very first thing that came into view as he made that turn was her, his gait nearly broke when he realized who it was but there was nothing he could do. To change course now would imply that he’d been wrong yesterday and he was ashamed of his actions and words, he wasn’t, and there was no way he would gather toh simply to avoid her. He steadied himself, slightly shortening his strides to give him a few more moments to think before he approached her completely, unfortunately it didn’t do anything to help and he came to stop in front of her. “Good morning Mordre, I trust your night was restful?” he asked, trying to be polite, in the past when they’d had an argument it could last for hours, days or weeks, depending on exactly how stubborn Mordre was being. He knew it couldn’t be him, women were just unreasonable, expecting you to change your entire life because it didn’t suit what they thought it should be, and Wise Ones were like three women rolled into one when it came to meddling. While he spoke, though, he took in the unspoken clues to her mood this morning. Alas, she was a confusing mix of irritation, simmering anger with a façade of pleasantness thrown over, the whole thing made Madoc nervous. The last time she’d looked like this he’d ended up with scorpions in his bedroll.

[U4ea]

Mordre stiffened her back and lifted her chin as he drew in close. She didn't address him, first, but he didn't give her much chance. "Good morning Mordre, I trust your night was restful?" with his voice to pleasant. It made her want to... She remembered what Shri had suggested and took a deep breath, burying the irritation. 

 

"Truth be known, I did not, Madoc," she said, not dropping her eyes, but relaxing her shoulders. "I worried about our parting last evening and it truly did not sit well with my dinner. I hope you fared better." She bit the corner of her lip and looked up at him, tilting her head to the side the way she'd seen girls do. She wasn't one to show much vulnerability, but perhaps this tactic would make him question it a bit more? "Perhaps we could try again, as if yesterday's conversation did not happen?"

 

She didn't give him very much time to answer that question, accepting that he wouldn't refuse her humble offering of forgetfulness. "I worry," she said softly. It wasn't a lie. What she'd seen in Rhuidean had increased that tenfold. "I know I do not show it, but I am concerned about you. Training with the Wise Ones has shown me much in the world that I had not considered and I fear circumstances would..." she paused, trying to find a way to spit the next part out without sounding like she was pushing their easy relationship beyond where it was, presently. 

 

She took a step closer, raising her hand to his shoulder and feeling the tense muscles there. She had him on edge already. What could she say to keep him from bolting the other direction? "Your mother," she changed her line of concern quickly, looking away from him, but not removing her hand. "Your mother would be very worried, all the time, were you to go out on patrols and hunting parties, looking for Trollocs. She is proud to call you her son, Madoc and losing your father was very difficult for her." 

 

She muttered in her own head about not having time to have planned this conversation out better than this. She should be flirting, drawing him in. Talking about his mother wasn't going to make that happen...

 

 

~Mordre

[_Kynwric_]

Madoc listened to her first request and inclined his head to accept the premise, they could pretend yesterday’s conversation had never happened, in truth he wished it had not. He listened, at first hearing the words she was saying, she was drawing him in with her expressed concern, but as soon Mordre brought up his mother he had to repress the urge to shake his head. “I know how hard losing my father was on my mother Mordre, better than most I would think. I also know she is worried, as every mother has a right to be about her children. That does not change the fact that my path lies to the blight and doing the work of the Creator in disposing of as many of the Dark One’s minions as I can manage.  I have no reason to seek a long life, nothing to tie me here. My mother will likely out live me even if I were to make 100 passings of the sun… Wise One’s do that.” His eyes flicked to her as he spoke and then glanced up at the sun, judging the time, not that he had any pressing engagements to be seen to today. 

[U4ea]

Mordre trapped down the frustration that surfaced, using his distraction with the sun to organize her thoughts. She stepped closer, laying her hand on his forearm, the touch light, just as it had been when she's learned if his father's death. "And I, Madoc?" She asked softly, her eyes on his face waiting on him to turn his attention back to her. "Think you that I would not be affected if you choose a path that would take you away from your roof? The decision is yours, I understand that." At least one of them had the right to do that! "I also know you made this decision having thought it through."

 

She waited, her head tilting to the side again as she closed the last few inches that separated them. "I just wonder if you considered ALL of your options." Brazen! Light she was glad no one else was around to see this! She was pretty sure she looked ridiculous. If it had been anyone but Madoc, she'd have at least been a bit more shy about it! "Isn't there a woman somewhere who would be greatly affected, should something happen to you? A marriage wreath being woven with dried flowers..."

 

She passed the tip of her tongue over the student dry lips, hoping he didn't start telling her about some maiden who'd crawled into his sack!

~ Mordre

[_Kynwric_]

The touch of her hand on his arm drew Madoc’s eyes back to Mordre with a jerk, he narrowed hiis eyes and blinked a bit to clear his vision of the spots that the sun’s brightness left there when you studied it for a bit too long. It also gave him the briefest of moments to think before he responded to what he was beginning to be pretty sure was Mordre coming on to him.  When she closed the last little gap between them, his head tilted down to keep close watch on his childhood friend, she’d done this sort of thing before. Teased him before throwing him to the ground or some other tactic to gain an advantage, but that had always occurred when they were sparring or competing, this seemed… different.

 

He felt the urge to kiss her, but that certainly couldn’t have been what Mordre was after, although he had to admit that what she wore now was certainly more flattering to her than the cadin’sor. But this was Mordre, who he’d spent countless hours with and she’d never done anything like this before… had she? Now his mind was racing and he was having a hard time juggling his thoughts about what was happening, what had happened recently and what had happened all along their shared history together as he tried to come to some conclusion. To be honest about it he was becoming dizzy with all the thoughts spinning around in his head and he hadn’t had any oosquai in days… maybe that was what was wrong, he hadn’t drank enough… when her tongue ran across her lips he just stared, everything he had learned said she was flirting with him, trying to entice him and he was standing there like a great statue in the Treekiller’s gardens. He had to do something, so he gave into his urge, leaned down and kissed Mordre and waited to see what happened next, it was a coin flip as to whether she’d return the kiss or stab him…

[U4ea]

Mordre felt the tension in his body under her fingertips and began worrying that this tactic wasn't going to work with him. Any other time he had tried it, they'd been sparring and he'd only suffered this trick once before he stopped trusting her motives and reacted with a knife first. She chewed her lip on the inside, worrying a spot as she waited for his response. Her breath felt tight in her chest and she really wasn't sure she wanted their relationship to go where she seemed to be pushing it, no matter what she'd seen in Rhuidean! She'd grown up with Madoc, had tossed him in the dirt as often as he'd done so to her. They'd slept under the stars as kids, at least until their mothers had deemed it inappropriate for them to do so. Even still, they'd snuck out and done it anyway a few times. She'd stood next to him when his father had died and he had offered her sympathy when she'd been turned away from the Maidens... repeatedly. He'd never laughed at her for trying harder to gain their approval and he, alone, knew what becoming a Wise One, instead, had cost her. 

 

She wasn't prepared for his kiss, however, and as his lips touched hers, she gasped. She still had her hand on him, which was a good thing, as it kept her from pitching into the dirt at his feet in shock. She had expected many things from him, had been preparing how to handle all of them the entire walk away from Shri's hut this morning. This, however, had not been among the possibilities she had considered. It was a bit awkward, at first, and she wasn't sure how to respond. Truth be known, she'd never done this before and her ignorance was taunting her. That it was Madoc...

 

She felt a slight shiver skitter down her back and closed her eyes against it. Her lips moved of their own volition, accepting what he offered and swaying a bit towards him. She let herself forget what brought her to his lips in the first place and found it impossible to remember any of it for a few moments. As it crashed back into her head, she made a noise of protest and pulled back a little, breaking the kiss. Her cheeks were burning and she felt like she'd run the entire way to Rhuidean and back the way her chest burned for air. She cleared her throat and looked away, trying to focus her thoughts. 

 

She'd tried to force him to think of other options than the Thunder Walkers. That's what had started this. Options, she had been pointing out other options. Did this mean there wasn't anyone else crawling into his...? Her eyes flew back to his and their noses bumped, making her laugh. The sound was strange to her ears and she wondered if he'd heard it, too. She wouldn't ask. She wouldn't! 

 

"Am I to understand that you have found options you have not previously considered then, Madoc?" her voice sounded strangely husky and she tried to swallow the sudden heaviness down before she had to speak again. What she wouldn't give for a few hot coals to distract her right now! 

 

 

 

~Mordre

[_Kynwric_]

Madoc held Mordre as she started to pull back, keeping her within the arms that had wrapped around her as they’d kissed. He let a little space develop between them but not enough that when she suddenly snapped her head up and around that their noses hadn’t bumped into each other. He was just glad there that it hadn’t been her forehead; it was hard, as he knew from practical experience. He could tell she was blushing, it was different than the look she had when she was flushed from running, and it suited her. As a matter of fact, he wouldn’t mind seeing her blush more often now that he’d seen it up close. He smiled at her laugh, chuckling himself that they were so clumsy at this when they were both graceful at dancing the spears. Madoc still did not let her slip from his grasp as he answered her question, “You have certainly made mud of the situation, it seems we have much to discuss, much to think on… ” Madoc paused, wishing he’d brought a waterskin out with him, or, more truthfully a bottle of oosquai, “are you certain about what you’ve seen Mordre? Do I have a duty to be done that leads me away from vengeance and towards… something else? Some other duty?” He’d almost said ‘you’ there, but he knew she’d deny that out of hand. Madoc watched her eyes, she’d never been a very good liar, but she had been spending much of her time with Wise One’s who could make a word spin a hundred different ways depending on what she wanted at that moment and he was certain it was a thing they taught… most women could only achieve 10 or twenty meanings from the same sentence.

[U4ea]

"are you certain about what you’ve seen Mordre? Do I have a duty to be done that leads me away from vengeance and towards… something else? Some other duty?”  His voice had turned serious and she swallowed hard to give herself time to answer. She'd forced herself to look in his eyes as he spoke, though his lips were...

 

She shook herself inwardly and looked away from him, closing her eyes and trying to think. "You know I can't speak of anything I've seen, Madoc," she said softly. "It is against our way." She turned her eyes back to him, focusing on the memory of the things she had seen instead of the way his lips had felt against hers. "Vengeance is rarely ever met with satisfaction, Madoc. Whether you get it or not, it will either leave you dead or hollow inside. I could not bear to watch that. I'm asking you to reconsider your options. As a..." she swallowed hard, fighting the urge to look down at his lips again. He hadn't released her and she was very glad it was as early as it was. The last thing she needed was witnesses to this scene. "As a friend, Madoc." 

 

She watched his eyes as he took in her words, searching for a hint of which way he was going to take that. His pride could make his thoughts go a thousand different directions. She only hoped she managed to put that seed of doubt in there that she could nurse until it grew into a tree the likes of which the Oathbreakers could never destroy. "Will you consider them?" 

 

~Mordre

[_Kynwric_]

Madoc let his hands slowly drift back to his sides and he considered her request, “I will consider them Mordre, you know you’ve given me an alternative to that life. I will think on what you’ve said and done and then make my decision anew.” He was still looking down into her face, a smile on his, as he traced the lines and curves with his eyes. Finally he reached out and cupped her chin and stroked her cheek with his thumb before dropping his hand again. “I will think hard on all of it. I am sure Shri has duties for you… I will not keep you longer. Perhaps we can speak again tonight?” He waited for her response and then he turned his back and strode back inside the Hold, needing to be alone to think on what had been revealed to him. Where does duty lay?

[U4ea]

Perhaps we can speak again tonight?" he asked. Mordre made some kind of noise of response which seemed to satisfy him and he moved away from her. She stared after him, wrapping her arms around her middle as he disappeared around a corner. She turned away from the Hold and walked away, following well-worn paths in a circuit around the Hold, her mind skittering around a dozen things at once. Madoc had kissed her. He'd kissed her and he'd enjoyed it! Worse, she had, too! Did Shri know something she didn't know? Was that why she sent her off on this task? Was that the reason for the advice she'd given her? She'd told her to use her charm and look where it had gotten her! It had turned into using her body, after all! 

 

Her cheeks burned and tears pricked her eyes. She pushed them back, laughing inwardly at her weakness. Why was she crying, of all things? That question was chased by another and another, pelting her mind with questions she didn't have answers to and wasn't sure she wanted answers to. Was the vision she'd seen at Rhuidean a vision of the future? Or just a vision of what could be? Did it show her what her heart wanted or what was best for the clan and the Aiel? When had her wayward body started to think of Madoc that way? Where had he learned to kiss like that? 

 

She tripped over her feet as that one popped into her thoughts. A jealous flash of rage shot through her thoughts and she gasped at the heat of it. Her hands curled into fists, and it took quite a long walk to shove those thoughts aside. She had no right to her jealousy. He was her friend. Or, at least he had been before this morning! The way he'd looked at her... the way his hand felt cupped around her chin and stroking her cheek...

 

She growled low in her throat and walked straight to Shri's hut again, attacking the list of herbal remedies the woman had asked her for and using her anger to grind the defenseless minerals into a fine powder. 

 

Shri had never praised her work as much as she did that evening when she looked over the tiny bottles and bowls that lined Mordre's work table. Mordre had never cared less what the woman thought of her work, either. The irony was not lost on Mordre, either. 

 

************************************************************* 

Shri turned in early, leaving Mordre and the gaishan tending the fires and stowing the supplies they'd finished cleaning. Mordre took a deep breath and waved to the gaishan, grabbing her shawl and a flask of water as she escaped into the cool night air. Overhead, the stars twinkled at her, reminding her of her childhood. She let her feet wander where they wished and soon found herself climbing atop the tall flat roof that served as a meeting house for the clan. With everyone in their houses, the building was empty and she didn't fear anyone saying anything to her as she climbed onto the roof. She walked to the center and sat down, looking over the Hold below at the fires still alight and the others that were dark. Mordre watched the normal lives of the people she'd grown up around as they continued around her, feeling as if she was no longer a part of the movement of the clan, but an observer of their lives. She sighed inwardly, and turned her attention to the houses nearest the meeting house. Through an uncovered window, she could see that Preena was tending her husband, who had fallen ill after a raid on a trolloc party he'd been scouting. The Thunder Walker had been injured, but should have recovered by now. Shri had only realized this morning that the wound wasn't infected, it was poisoned. She'd had Mordre mix a complex salve for it and had, herself, made herbal teas for the man to drink, hoping to rid his body of the poison that was racking it. Mordre turned her eyes away as her mind replaced the man on the bed with Madoc's face, his eyes sunken and purple, his complexion waxy and colorless. She shuddered and looked away, her eyes finding little Neille, who was sneaking out the back door of his mother's roof and climbing over the low wall that held up a trestle for vegetables. She smiled, watching him meet his friends just over the wall, their whispered glee echoing between the buildings as they "snuck" away to peek at the Maidens who were wrapping up a bit of night training on the far side of the Hold. Neille's mother shook her head from the window just above the one he'd escaped through, her smile telling Mordre that she knew what her son was up to.  How many times had Madoc's mother had the same expression on her face? What of her own mother? Had they seen what had happened today coming from so long ago?

 

Mordre sighed and fanned her cloak under her, laying down flat on her back and staring up at the stars winking overhead. There was a clearing around the meeting house, which allowed an uncensored view of the breathtaking sky above. She and Madoc had spent many nights here, laying on this roof and staring at the sky. Sometimes they made up stories about the pictures they created out of the stars and sometimes they just laid here, staring at them. She felt oddly alone up here by herself, though her mind began replaying the stories they'd dreamed up together. She raised her hand, tracing the patterns in the stars with her fingertip. 

 

~Mordre

[_Kynwric_]

Madoc had been restless all evening, he’d eaten quickly and left his mother’s roof as quickly as he could manage. The entrie day had been weird; apparently even the other Thunder Walkers now thought he was making an unwise decision as he’d been spoken to by no less the 4 of the one’s in the Hold today about how much he didn’t fit in with them. Always pointing out how his qualities would possibly fit another Society better. More and more Madoc felt he was being pushed along a path, and he wasn’t certain he wanted to walk down it. Once out in the night Madoc had swung through and picked up a jug of Oosquai from Gruhn and let his feet just wander.  Soon enough he found himself skimming rooftops until he spied someone else moving up here also; he squatted, folding himself into the darkness to watch for a moment while the woman, he’d realized she was in skirts, made herself comfortable on the roof and laid back. When he saw her begin to trace shapes in the sky he put it all together, recognizing the place and the memory he shared with only one other. He quietly picked his way to the same rooftop and slowly snuck up on Mordre. When he was close enough that he could reach out and touch her he spoke, “That one looks nothing like a speak and buckler, it is more like one of these wetlander hats with the wide brim.” He held out the bottle to her, silently offering it to her with his outstretched arm.

[U4ea]

Mordre jumped and spun to her feet, her hand forming a fist and swinging, just barely missing the outstretched bottle. "I should break that bottle over your head for frightening me," she shook her head and settled back down, snatching the bottle from his hand and taking a long swig before handing it back. The liquor burned a firey path down to her belly, but she welcomed the sensation. "Thunder Walker, indeed," she muttered, turning her eyes back to the sky overhead. If she was lucky, which she usually wasn't, the Oosquai would help her relax and she could look at him without the memory of that kiss getting in the way. She tried it, but her eyes landed on his lips and the fire in her stomach spread elsewhere. She closed her eyes and rolled her head away quickly. When her nerves stopped tingling, she opened her eyes again. Why hadn't she considered this part of her vision in Rhuidean? If she were his wife...

 

She cleared her throat and pushed herself to her elbows. "It is a spear and buckler, don't you remember? Hassel the Mad took himself out of the Threefold Land armed with only a spear and buckler and returned a wealthy man. He still carried both, but hadn't used them and grew soft with the wetlanders. When he returned to his Clan, he was challenged by three men and a Maiden, and failed all but one test." She reached her hand out towards the stars again, tracing the four shapes that made up each of Hassel's trials. "He failed to bring food back to the Clan from the hunt; he failed to carry his message to the neighboring Clan, and he failed to best the Maiden in combat." She paused by the last shape, her breath catching in her throat. Hassel had not failed failed the test of loyalty, which had been pressed upon him by the last man to challenge him. The Clan Chief had offered Hassel a different woman each night to warm his furs, knowing that the Maiden who had bested him had been his intended bride before he left the Threefold Land. She'd vowed never to love another and had joined the Maidens with a bit of a death wish. Each night, Hassel apologized, but sent the woman back to the Clan Chief, saying each time that there was only one woman for him and had ever only been one since he'd met his intended. On the last night, his intended came to him and presented him with a marriage wreath, which he'd happily donned. Mordre stared at the shape in the heavens, a heart larger than any other. Light was this never going to end!?!

 

She shifted, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, looking at the hold around them as lights were extinguished, leaving them in the blessed black of night. She wrapped her fingers around the bottle and took another draw from it, happy when the end of her nose began to grow numb. "What brings you to the roof, Madoc?" She asked quietly, handing him back the bottle and not drawing away as quickly as she had before. "I'm sure childhood tales of honor were not what you were after..." 

 

~Mordre

[_Kynwric_]

Madoc smiled, but it was lost in the dark at Mordre’s startlement, “you should be more vigilant, or has becoming a Wise One made you soft?” He settled down next to her and stared up at the stars while she prattled on about Hassel and nameless Maiden, a little bemused that she’d so easily fallen into that trap, telling that story for that constellation, but she’d always been a sucker for it. He took the bottle back when she was finished and took another long pull from it. Turning his head to regard the outlilne of Mordre’s face against the slight backlight from below,  “I’m trying to get drunk, which is abominably hard to do properly in your mother’s roof. I thought perhaps that where reason has failed an utter lack of reason or inhibition would possibly make some sense out of the chaos my life has become.” He glanced back up at the stars, “And that is still not a spear and buckler, maybe it is a pot and spoon.” He turned his head to another grouping of stars and pointed, marking out the circular arrangement. “Still holding that that is a bridal wreath?”

[U4ea]

Mordre debated slapping him, but grabbed the bottle instead. She ignored his barb, which was usually always focused on pointing out that she was a girl in some way or another. What she wouldn't give to have been born male, instead! "At least you have a choice about the mess your life has become, Madoc," she muttered, taking a long pull from the bottle and not immediately handing it back. "Do you know the Maidens would not accept me because the Wise Ones told them not to? Not because I wasn't good enough, not because I was flawed. I tortured myself for so long and was never even given a chance..." 

 

She shook her head and swallowed another mouthful of Oosquai, passing him the bottle. All her training, her time with her spear in her hand... wasted. "You complain because you have too many choices, when I envy you the freedom of making them. I will not even get a choice about..." she barely caught herself before she said something she couldn't about her visions and the future. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead on her bent knees. "What does your heart tell you to do, Madoc? When you throw away the vengence and the advice, when you ignore everything that is physical about you,  what does your heart say? When you close your eyes and imagine yourself twenty years from now, what do you see?"

 

She lifted her head and looked at him, waiting for his reply and watching his face as he formed his answer. She could always tell when he was lying, or when he was being difficult. This path wasn't difficult for him to choose. He just didn't like the feeling that other people choosing it for him. "Be true to yourself, for you are the only person you have to answer to in the end. The choice is yours, no one else's. You are the person who must live with the consequences, no matter what the Wise Ones, your mother, or anyone else in this Clan has to say about it." 

 

~Mordre

[_Kynwric_]

Madoc watched as Mordre took one swig and then another from that bottle, he was hoping she wouldn’t finish it in her fit of self-loathing, he didn’t want to break into the second bottle quite this early in the evening. He let her rant though; she needed to get this all off of her chest and his eyes drifted down as he thought about it. His gaze was interrupted by the bottle being passed back to him and he took it, taking another swig, but holding onto the bottle this time instead of passing it back immediately. “If I am true to myself Mordre then I go to the blight, I kill as many Shadowspawn as I can and I die there. There is no great honor in that, and as you have so particularly pointed out, it is not where my duty lies. So, in choosing to do what I think I should, I incur Toh and not just to one person but to all the Aiel. I cannot do that,” he took another long pull from the bottle, before continuing to speak his thoughts.  “So… now I must choose. Do I lay down my weapons and take up a useful trade? That isn’t a serious choice; the spear and bow are what I know. I am good with them. I won’t give them up. So, that leaves continuing the path I am on with slight modifications. The only real question is do I still feel like a Stone Dog? Perhaps the bottom of this bottle will hold an answer.” He took yet another draw on the bottle and then handed it back to Mordre, “As for what my heart says, I am not sure you truly want to hear that Wise One, you turn red so very easily.”

[U4ea]

"I can't see you in trade," Mordre snorted, grabbing the bottle and taking another long drink. She lifted the almost empty bottle up, letting a bit of light shine through it and laughed. "I see no answers in this bottle, Madoc, so I wouldn't put much stock on it giving them up so easily." 

 

Her head was starting to feel light and the end of her nose was a bit numb. She was far from drunk, but she did feel very relaxed. "After this morning, I doubt you could shock me further, either. I believe there is a limit to how much one person's system can be tested and you've quite met the limit already." She laid back down, staring up at the stars overhead. "The way I see it, you have two choices before you: die quickly and without having the revenge you so desperately crave, or live a little longer and really make a difference to your clan. You are right, one way earns you toh, since it would be a selfish choice that hurt more than a few people. The other way means setting aside the vengeance you yearn for and work for the good of the Aiel." 

 

She snorted and closed her eyes. "Perhaps I misspoke. You really only have one choice, do you not?" 

[_Kynwric_]

“I can’t see me in trade, either. I’d bore myself to death…” he took the bottle back and gave it a shake before draining the dregs and producing bottle number 2 of the evening. He took a long pull from it before again offering it to Mordre, “You should know better than to say I can’t do something. It is most certainly the way to make sure I try. Both on the issue of Thunder Walkers and making you blush.” He sighed, “No, there is no reasonable alternative with the knowledge that in making one decision earns me great Toh to everyone I care about and the other will serve them best. There is always a choice though, I could put on White and delay having to make the choice.” Madoc sat there for a short while in silence, then added, “you in particular.” When she hadn’t taken the bottle from him quickly enough he lifted it to take another drink then again extended it to her, “I’m not taking this home. So you help me drink it, or I drink it myself.”