Outcast (The Blue Dragon's Geas) (14 page)

Mesiande laughed softly as she rolled her eyes. “Well, that is a fine way to respond to a girl’s accepting of your proposal.”

“I didn’t propose."  He thought about his words. He chuckled nervously as he realized that he sort of just did. “Okay, well maybe I did but it was not how I meant to do so. My plan had been some picnic and wine."  He frowned. “Well damn, I did propose."  He was rambling. “I am sorry th...”

It was Mesiande’s turn to stop his cascade of speech as she put a finger to his lips. Only when he was quiet did she lean up. Her movements were slow, and her eyes were locked with his. She gently replaced her finger with her lips. It was a soft fluttering of a kiss. He sat motionless, afraid to move for fear of breaking this moment; for fear of waking up. Her lips were warm and sweet. When she pulled away and stared into his eyes he slowly smiled, and she answered with her own mischievous grin.

“It can’t be official yet. It has to stay between us for now. You cannot accept a housemate till you have been to the circle."  He reminded her frowning. He realized in that moment he did not want her to go to the circle. He did not want another in her robes.

“I know."
 She answered. “It shall be our secret, and one I will treasure till the day I can announce my choice legitimately. Will we live with my mother and her housemate?"  She looked at him. It was common for new couples to move into the home of the woman. It gave the house another male to help until the couple could save up enough to build their own home.

He grinned happily, he was glad now more
then ever to have found that bloodstone. “No!"  He watched as she looked disappointed. He knew that she was very close to her mother. His grin got even bigger. “I shall build you a house. I will start on it before the next season’s circle."  He pushed the hair from her face as he stared into her beautiful brown eyes. He took the strip of wet cloth and gently bathed the blood from the scratch on her face. “Tell me what you want your home to have and I will insure it will be as you wish."  He promised softly.

Mesiande lifted a brow as if considering. “I do not know, sir. I mean, I have quite fanciful tastes."
 She walked away from him tapping her chin thoughtfully. Her back slightly to him, she looked over her shoulder to ask. “Are you sure you can afford such an offer?"  Her voice was haughty like a couple of the village girls whose mothers had done well. But her eyes gave way her teasing along with that grin she had. She tossed her braids in an over dramatic manner and turned her back fully to him.

He slipped up behind her putting his arms about her own. He held her hands at her own waist as he laid his chin on her shoulder. “I am sure I can meet all your needs."
 He teased back whispering in her ear. He moaned when she shivered at his words. He turned her to him, and he moved his lips to claim hers. He did not offer a questing kiss as she had, he sought her lips with the hunger she instilled in him. It was as if the potion still lured his senses. He pulled her close, loving the feel of her solid body against his own. Her lips parted, and he teased them apart further. His tongue teasing her own till she moaned softly and surrendered against him. Feeling something shift within him, he broke the kiss. He wanted to do this right and to go farther would mean pushing matters beyond what was proper.

“I love you, Mesi."
 He whispered against her lips. “I have loved you for the longest time. I cannot imagine another housemate."  His fingers were caught in her tangled braid as he pulled her head back to lay a lingering kiss on her lips once more. Her eyes had not yet opened.

Mesiande did not answer him for a moment as he watched her. Her face was flushed with color, and her breath was short and rapid. She swallowed hard and still did not open her eyes. “I hav
e known for a bit."  She managed to offer softly. “You do not drive the korpen very straight when I am about."  She opened her eyes and smiled happily up to him.

He blushed remembering his brother correcting him for the same thing. “Y-yes, umm well I...umm like to watch you."
 He caught her hand and turned to head farther up the path. It would not do for Trelmar to catch them in this manner. Neither one of them were allowed to kiss Mesiande as she had not yet been to circle. A middlin was considered not of age till she had been through her first circle. Whom she chose to kiss after that was up to her but until then, he would have to be careful.

They walked back in companionable silence. Alador was deep in thought as to the events that had happened that day, and he suspected she was, as well. In less than an hour, it seemed to him as if the whole world had just changed. His thoughts seemed to tumble about, and he was struggling to make sense of them. Alador held her hand tightly till they were in sight of the first field, then stopped to look at her. “Mesi, if you could go to circle this season, would...Would you...you...ch…choose me?"
 He asked softly searching her face. “Or does it bother you I am not full Daezun?”

Mesiande smiled softly. She looked down at the ground, her hand running across her lips. She let the tension build as she considered his words. “It has never bothered me that you were not full Daezun."
 She looked up at him with mischief sparkling in her dark brown eyes. “Your eyes sparkle like a well worked metal. I would love my small ones to have such eyes. I do not put much faith in some who think that only Daezun should come from the circle. Maybe if there were more like you, it would help peace remain with the Lerdenians.”

He breathed out a great sigh of relief. “So you would choose me?"
 He asks softly. He stared at her in amazement. He dug his fingers into his hand to see if he were truly awake.

She shook her head as she looked at him, her soft giggle emphasizing her return to her usual playful manner. “Of course I would chose you...But remember, we are to choose till the circle is finished. If a male cannot complete the ritual, one must take another."
 She reminded him. They both knew that the ritual was not considered complete till the first sign of false dawn. They had watched as women chose more than one male throughout the night.

“Well then, I shall just have to make sure I can complete the entire ritual."
 He grinned back at her. Although his words were teasing, a sense of desperation filled him. He did not want another in her furs. “I wish you were going to the circle this season."  He sighed softly.

“I do too. I do not like the fact you may be chosen any more than you like that I might choose another. Do not think I have not thought so. You have slips now, and everyone knows it. Plus, I heard the adults speaking of your ritual night. The word...impressive was used."
 She searched his eyes as she bit her lip. “What if you do not want me after your first circle? What if you like another when you have bedded her?"  Her eyes searched his with a fear he had not known she possessed.

He pulled her into his arms for reassurance as he whispered into her ear. “That, my dear Mesi, is never going to happen. You hold my heart and soul and have ever since you first popped Trelmar in the nose when he took your bow."
 He grinned down at her and kissed her nose gently. He chuckled as he remembered the look on Trelmar’s face when she had punched him.

Mesiande laughed at the memory. “He was somewhat shocked if I recall."
 She hugged him to her tightly. He cheek rested against his chest as she nuzzled up under his chin. “I am so glad you are okay."  She pulled away to look up at him. Her lips quivered, and her eyes were large as she whispered up to him. “At first, I thought he was going to kill you. When we got to the lake, I thought you were going to kill him. I would die if you were to be banished."  She reached up to touch under his eye, which was already swelling. It was nearly closed at the moment, and he flinched slightly at the contact.

“I am not going anywhere
, Mesiande. I am sorry I lost my temper so horribly. I will do what I can to contain it."  He slowly pulled away from her. “I do not want to be parted from you. Although to be honest, if I was sent to another village, I would just send for you."  His tone held no doubt of the choices he would make if they were forced apart.

“I need to get back before maman realizes I am not at my work."
 She answered looking over at the fields she was supposed to be weeding. She looked back at him and bit her lip.

“When will you go back to the mines or searching for bloodstones?"
 He knew she did not like field work. She loved to dig for the precious metals and stones that the ground held secret. It was like watching a small one on a treasure hunt.

“Next week we make another trip up to the dragon you found your stone at. It was large, and we only unearthed about half the dragon’s bones. Potre is hoping to find a stone even half as large as yours."
 She worked her fingers swiftly to undo her braid so she could reset it.

“I...there is something different about that dig site, Mesi. Please be careful. I would offer to go with you, but I have my share of find and it would be unfair for me to dig further at that site."
 He frowned. He watched her fingers move swiftly through her hair. He did not want her to have the dreams he had. He knew they had something to do with that bloodstone or the dragon bones themselves. He had not been the same since he unearthed the stone. Dorien was right. Something had changed, and he was not certain it had solely to do with his Lerdenian blood. He knew something there had changed him, and he suspected it was more than hitting his head or gaining his magical abilities.

She finished redressing her braids before she answered him. “I am always careful on a dig. You know this."
 She pushed his chest playfully, once more the girl he had come to know so well.

“Yes, but this is different."
 He caught her hand before she could pull it back, his movement swift and certain. His grip firm. “Promise me you will be, more cautious."  He insists.

Mesiande’s eyes had gotten slightly larger when he had captured her hand. “I promise."
 She whispered, searching his face.

He did not want to let her go, but he dropped her hand and turned her toward the field. “Off with you before we are caught and both taken to task by our mothers. Being an adult has not stopped mine from nagging Tentret or Dorien."
 He quipped. He was an adult now, and he had his own matters to oversee.

He had a house to plan and
would need to ask about a plot of land to put it upon. The compensation of land price was minimal and was used by the elders for public building improvements. One did not really own the land for the land belonged to the people, but one was allowed to build a house upon it if there were proper funds. Funds were not an issue for him at this time.

He watched Mesiande as she ran lightly back to the fields. He turned to head back to the village. He had not gone far and when he glanced back. He smiled for she was already surrounded by other girls. Their eyes met across the field, and he suddenly wished he was a small bug. He wondered what excuses she would give for her absence, the state of her clothing or the scratch upon her cheek.

Only once completely out of her sight did he allow himself to practically dance in a circle.  He stopped abruptly as the pains of his fight with Trelmar reminded him to move carefully.  He stood grinning widely. His Mesiande had said yes!   They would be house mated and would raise small ones together. He could not wait the year till she was in the circle. Once she had been to the circle, she would share his bed. He planned to make sure she never wanted another in her furs. He took a few deep breaths to settle his rising passions. He would have to wait, but that did not mean it would be easy. He headed back to the village. He had much to prepare and hopefully only a year to finish it.

For the first time, Alador whistled as he walked. For the first time, he felt like he really belonged; that he was home. He smiled as he remembered how the dragon battle had ended. He laughed aloud as he headed carefully back home.

When Renamaum reached his mate lying by the shore, he noticed the dejected look as her head lay upon the ground. “Surely you are not disappointed that I killed him?"
 Renamaum looked a little bit offended for a moment. He glanced back at the bleeding form of the black dragon upon the ground. His lip snarled up as he thought for a moment she had wanted the black male to win.

“No."
 She answered sadly. Her tone was so forlorn.

When he looked back at her, he realized her gaze was so dejected that he grew very concerned. Then...what is it?"
 He asked somewhat in a panic. “Is something wrong with the clutch?"  He circled about her and nuzzled her gently.

“No! Look!"
 She nodded over to where a path of acid had bathed the ground. There, in the middle of it, lay the large fish with great holes of acid eaten into it. “He ruined my dinner...”

The day dawned bright and warm. Alador woke with a smile and stretched upon his mattress. He winced at the pain in his side, and the dull ache of his ba
ck was immediately evident when he stretched. Not all the pain was from the fight, some had been from the long night spent in Maredeth’s arms. He smiled at the thought of that night. He had always thought there was not much difference between being an adult and a middlin but now he knew there was.

He touched his face. His jaw was sore, and his nose was a bit swollen. He was fairly sure it had been broken. He probably had at least one black eye. He could barely see out of it, and it throbbed. He rolled up and sat on the side of his bed. Every muscle cried out at the effort. He stretched some more trying to work free the aches and pains of the fight. He put on his clothes settling for his more comfortable boots rather than the ones given to him yesterday. It took some time for his side still throbbed, and he wondered if he had broken a rib. Hopefully it was just the pain of moving for the first time since he had fallen into his bed.

He walked to the wall where a sheet of metal had been burnished to provide a shine. He touched his face gingerly and groaned at the swollen image that distortedly stared back at him. He groaned at the thought of his mother seeing him. He had managed to avoid his mother last night, and given the day’s work, she had not looked for him. Last night the circle of mourning had been held. The village had gathered together to comfort one another. There had been food and stories around a great fire remembering those that had been lost. He had hung back in the shadows not wanting to be questioned as to his condition. It had been his custom to hang back in such gatherings, and so even though his status seemed to be changing, no one called him forward or seemed concerned. The focus had been on other things. He got dressed and then glanced at his bow.

The normal routines of the village would not happen with the somber ritual that would occur to bury those that had died. It
was unlikely that either Gregor or Mesiande would be practicing. None of the three had lost close kin, but despite that, it would be a sad day. You could not live in a village and not see everyone as kin. You worked together, shared circle and spent your life in the company of those in the village. Every name was known, and little escaped the gossip. They had lost six in all; two middlins and four elders. Thankfully the small ones had all been safe.

He would be required to help carry the bodies to the pyres as an adult.
  All six would be carried and sent to the gods at the same time. His body protested at that thought, and he groaned out softly. He forced himself to lean against the wall and stretch his feet back one at a time. He had to loosen up.

He could not remember a time when they had sent so many to the gods at the same time. He had not personally chosen a god to follow and so was still open to all the paths and honored them all the same. Most middlins were the same, one waited till adulthood to determine a path. It was said that a god chose the Daezun and not the other way around. He did not see how this could be as he had never seen any sign that the gods existed. The dragons existed, and the tale was that the gods had made them, but this was a matter of faith. He was fairly sure if the gods were real than they were not nice. Alador remembered when he had prayed as a small one for help with Trelmar and had never seen a single sign. In fact, things had gotten worse over time, not better. He had prayed to Kronos to bring fire and consume Trelmar. It was too bad it had not been Trelmar consumed by the fire of the dragon. That was a loss he would not have mourned.

Alador sighed as he headed for the door. He took a deep breath and forced himself through it. He might as well get it over with. His mother was going to see him eventually. He could smell the fresh bread rising up from the kitchen below his room. He stepped outside and looked about. The marks of the dragon were still visible from the top of the stairs that led to the bedrooms above. Blackened walls and rooftops marked the path of the dragon’s breath. Slowly he descended the steps. The typical morning bustle of the village was absent, and the strange silence was eerie even knowing its cause.

Alador stepped i
nto the kitchen. Tentret glanced up at his brother and gave a slight nod, not really noticing Alador as he dug into a bowl of porridge and a large portion of steaming bread. His mother had her back to him as he slipped into his seat at the table. He grabbed a bowl and filled it from the pot at the center of the table. He was trying to keep his head down. As his mother was bustling about, she slipped a mug of steaming korpen milk and a large piece of buttered bread onto the table next to him. He breathed a sigh of relief that mornings were so routine that no one really paid much attention. His relief was shattered when his little sister, Sofie, suddenly bounced into the room.

“Korpen dung! Alador, what happened to your face?"
 Sofie’s eyes were large as she stared at her brother’s battered face.

He groaned inwardly as his mother spun about to look at him. She stalked over and tipped his face up. “Fighting again?
 You have only been an adult for a day, and you have already been fighting?"  She tsked loudly as she moved his chin first right then left.

Alador winced as the pain shot through his face at the rough movements. He did not meet her eyes for he knew he was not supposed to lay a finger on a middlin. He did not want to admit he had already broken laws when he had only been
an adult a few hours. “I am fine, Maman."  He uttered dejectedly.

His manner was not lost on Tentret. “He is a middlin, Alador. You cannot touch him any longer. If you have a complaint, you will need to speak to an elder or his mother."
 Tentret rose up from the table and moved his dishes to the sideboard for Sofie to clean later.

“Oh! You fought Trelmar, again?"
 Sofie clapped her hands over her mouth realizing that this could get Alador into serious trouble now that he was an adult.

Alador’s mother had not let go of his chin to both his dismay and discomfort. “Well...if you did touch him, I hope it was worth your while and that he looks worse than you do."
 She finally let him go as she eyed him, a strange mischievous grin replacing the harsh scrutiny she had carried only moments before. “Sofie, isn’t it sad that Alador is so accident prone?  I mean last night, he fell right down them stairs to his bedroom. It is outright surprising that he didn’t just wake everyone right up.”

Tentret scoffed in disgust and strode from the room. Sofie looked at her mother in confusion, but when she saw her mother’s pointed and mischievous gaze, seemed to get the point. “Oh yes, Maman. I shall forever be teasing him about not being able to hold his ale now that he is an adult. Why, I saw just this morning that Alador was putting a new rail handle along the wall."
 Sophie grinned at Alador, her expression was sly and calculating.

Alador groaned for his sister had been begging for a handrail to the upstairs for a year now, and the rest of them saw no need. It was his sister that was forever fearing falling down th
ose stairs. He knew without asking that this tale was going to require him to put up that rail she had been wanting so badly. “I will start working on it as soon as I eat."  His voice held the exasperation he felt. His body ached, and he truthfully didn’t feel like moving at all.

His mother chuckled as she went back to the rest of the day’s baking. Most of the cooking this time of the year was done in the morning as the late afternoons would soon begin to be too hot for the kitchen fires to be burning. Alador glared at Sofie, but she just giggled and bounced from the room as was her manner. That was not how he had wanted to spend his morning, and this afternoon would be given to the village. He had been hoping to search out Mesiande and help her with whatever task she had been set to.

Once he was finished eating, Alador put the dishes on the sideboard along with the pot of porridge. He then headed out and around the house to look for odds and ends of wood that would make a hand rail. It didn't’ take him long to sort out some thinner tree tops and saplings to work with. Soon he was on the stairs putting up a proper rail, all the while fuming at the fact that he would have to allow others to think it was for his benefit. It was his own fault for needing a story to explain his face, but surely his mother could have come up with something more manly. The truth was, the two of them probably had planned this for the next time he fought so Sofie could have her railing. Alador huffed in disgust of that possible conspiracy.

“Odd day to fix yar steps."
 Gregor’s light hearted tone held the warmth and life that endeared him to Alador.

Alador nodded, not turning to look at his friend. “Umm yes. Sofie has been after me forever to put this up. With no duties assigned. I thought I would see to it."
 He managed to say pounding in another nail. He turned to look at his friend.

“By the gods, Alador, for her or for yah?"
 Gregor peered at his friend’s battered face. He searched Alador’s face with a surprised look. He staggered back putting his hands over his eyes. “Spare me, Krona."  He mocked as if he needed protected by the gods, so gruesome was the sight of Alador’s face.

“Well the story is...for me."
 Alador sat down on the steps rather dejected. He looked up at Gregor. His point more than clear.

“What was it this time?"
 Gregor moved to sit the step below him, angled so he could see his friend. “Yah look like a korpen stepped on yar face."  His teasing settling somewhat although he was still not quite looking at Alador and his hand up as if hiding his eyes.

“He tried to kiss Mesi."
 Alador admitted. He looked at his friend. “I know she probably could have handled it, but I just got so angry. I nearly killed him, Gregor."  He looked down at his worn boots. He rubbed the back of his hand absently.

Gregor looked at him in disbelief. “And Mesi didn’t kill him herself?

Alador looked down at his own bruised knuckles with a sheepish grin. “I didn’t exactly give her time.

“No one would miss him."
 Gregor spat out. “I wonder what story his mother will tell. He dare not say he was fighting yah for it might come out as to why. He knows he can’t be kissing on middlins, especially ones not wanting to be kissed. While yah would be in trouble, it is clear he would be, as well. I think this is one incident that no one will want brought to the light of day."  Gregor looked up at him, his gaze reassuring.

Alador looked at him and nodded. “I am lucky, in that, I was not the one to draw a knife. And once Trelmar was in trouble, I am sure many would come forward."
 Both men sat quietly for a bit.

Gregor suddenly grinned. “So yah fell down the stairs, I am going to have so much fun with this one.”

Alador attempted to push him back off the stairs with his foot. Just as Gregor grabbed it and a tussle was about to ensue, Alador’s mother stepped out with her hands on her hips.

“Gregor! I do not need a whole new set of stairs but, by the gods, if you break that outer rail you will be rebuilding and seeing a nice even set to go with it!"
 She glared at Gregor and Alador with a look that only a scolding mother could have. She turned and stomped back into the kitchen.

“How does she do that?"
 Murmured Gregor, his voice low enough for only Alador to hear... “We hadn’t even made any noise yet.”

“Sofie says she has a friend in a sprite. She has a complete tale of how this sprite watches out for maman when her back is turned. Some days…"
 Alador grinned at his friend. “Some days I believe her."  They both laughed heartily.

“Let me help."
 Gregor offered. The next hour the two of them worked diligently on building the second rail against the house. Unlike many of the houses, it had not originally been designed to expand up. An indoor stair had not been built as it would have taken from vital space inside. It gave the house a misshapen appearance, but it was no more colorful in its design than any other house on the circles. When it was done, Sofie appeared and brought them both a mug of mulled prickleberry juice. Gregor made a big act out of taking the cup slowly from Sofie, and she giggled as their fingers touched.

“That. Is. My. Sister."
 Alador looked at his friend pointedly.

Gregor’s eyes were locked with Sofie’s. “Yes, and a fine sister yah have too."
 Gregor’s eyes slowly raked over Sofie.

Alador rolled his eyes. “Off with you Sofie, Gregor is a horrid flirt and will only break your heart."
 He took his own mug from her as she had served Gregor first...Sofie giggled as Alador placed a hand on her shoulder and attempted to turn her towards the house.

Sofie complied but watched Gregor over her shoulder. She was so intent on watching him and grinning when he winked that she ran into the door jamb by the kitchen. She flushed with color before she ducked back into the house.

Gregor chuckled softly at the girl’s response. “Hard to believe she comes from the same mother as yah.”

“Cad."
 Alador said before taking a long drink.

“Mother hen."
 Gregor fired right back. “I heard she was going to the circle. She is not a small one. In fact, she has a lot of curves in the right places."  Gregor’s free hand mimicked Sofie’s curves.