Lands of the Vay Ch. 06

Author's Note: Thank you Liter Knight for her careful editing!

Chapter 6

"Boss."

Ciara clawed herself awake. She put her arms above her head and stretched, awakening stiff muscles, she heard Brug make an uncomfortable noise and remembered she had taken off her shirt. The sudden guilt jolted her fully awake and she sat up, blinking against the late afternoon sun. She rubbed her face, trying to clear the rest of the sleep from her head.

"It's been an hour?" She asked.

"And some change," said Brug.

Ciara gave the thraka an angry look, but she just shrugged in response.

"How you feeling? All better?"

Ciara rolled her neck. She still felt tired, but it was a normal weariness after a long day's work. Nothing dangerous. She was sure she'd be fine.

"Much better," she said. She grabbed her shirt and started buttoning it back up.

"You had a gentleman caller, but I explained who you were and that you needed your rest, and he saw himself off," said Brug.

Ciara shook her head as she worked her way up the buttons. Most savay wouldn't bother a sleeping vay, but the Troll Garden was a popular destination for liaisons and Vay looking for partners. It made savay bolder than they would be normally. Ciara admitted to herself she wouldn't have dared take a nap in the Troll Garden without a thraka to watch over her.

"Thank you, I hope he wasn't too sore."

"Nope, apologetic if anything."

Ciara finished buttoning her shirt and stood, rolling down her pant legs and brushing herself off. Her clothes had that slept-in feeling that she always hated, but she'd survive. She promised herself a long, luxurious bath when she got home.

"We'd better go, we're running late," said Ciara.

"Sure thing, boss. I think the number nine line will drop us a few blocks away."

Ciara nodded and started walking towards the entrance to the park and the rickshaw stand. The crowd had thinned out while she slept, the families and servants going home to get ready for dinner. Later tonight the park would fill up again, with fewer families and more younger Vay and women. Many litters were made and fed in the Troll Garden after dark.

The rickshaw stand was a long wooden building that had been used to stable horses for riding in the park when the humans controlled the city. It was run by a woman on the line between middle aged and elderly. She took the scales and coppers Brug offered without comment and fetched an orc trained on the number nine route. When the rickshaw was ready, Ciara climbed in and the orc took off at a fast jog. Ciara watched the city fly by; vay and women going about their crafts, orcs delivering carts of goods, and even a savay on a horse with a squad of orcs in tow. She enjoyed the snapshots of bustling life in her new home as she made her way to her last appointment. Twenty minutes later they reached their stop and Ciara disembarked. She walked a few blocks through a much nicer neighborhood than her previous appointment until she arrived at the well made greystone house that was her final stop. This neighborhood housed many skilled makervay who prospered from the well made crafts and goods they made for the farmvay on the New Frontier. This was her third time coming to this house, and it had the comfort of familiarity. This house only had women in it but they were respected by the vay they were bound to and were properly supported by their sept. Ciara climbed the steps and knocked, after a moment a young woman with pale blond hair opened the door. She smiled when she saw Ciara.

"It's good to see you, Vayné."

"And you as well, Breniel. I'm so sorry I'm late. I had a very difficult case earlier. It held me up."

"Oh, that's alright," said Brenial, "The runner delivered your note. Mom is getting uncomfortable, although she'd never admit it, but a few hours didn't make a big difference. She's more worried about you. She says you need to eat more."

"I do my best."

Brenial opened the door fully and Ciara walked inside. As she did she noticed Breniel's dress was taut over her belly and bust, and her skin had an extra glow.

"Why Brenial, are you carrying?"

Brenial smiled and nodded, hand going to her belly.

"You should have told me," said Ciara.

"Oh, no need to trouble you. It's my third so I'm an old pro by now. I was going to ask you to help deliver, of course."

"Of course. Would you like me to look?"

"How about after you see mom?"

Ciara nodded agreeably. Brenial was a good daughter who cared deeply about her mother. She was the one that found Ciara to help with her mother's condition.

Brenial started walking through the front hallway and Ciara and her escort followed. Then Brenial paused and turned around. She had a huge grin on her face.

"I'm going to keep one," said the woman.

Ciara blinked, then she understood.

"You're having a daughter?"

Brenie put her hands to her mouth and nodded quickly.

"Goddess, congratulations!" said Ciara.

Brenial leaned forward and gave Ciara a hug. Ciara was shocked for a moment, she hadn't thought she had that close of a relationship with Brenial, but she hugged the woman back enthusiastically. Brenial was so obviously overjoyed that Ciara wanted to support her. When they broke the hug Brenial was still smiling.

"So you've been accepted as a full member of the sept?" asked Ciara. "I know you wanted to wait until you were sure."

Brenial nodded, "The head housevay agreed last week. Orla has been pushing for a while."

"Congratulations. That is quite an accomplishment."

"Thank you. They said my dyes are the best in the sept. The makervay all ask for them. Orla still can't believe I can't sing. She says my work must be magic."

"Oh that's so wonderful. Congratulations," said Ciara, feeling uncomfortable. She always felt awkward at moments like this. She always felt like she was repeating herself. She knew that's what people wanted to hear but she still worried that she sounded fake or shallow.

"I should... I'm sorry you need to see my mom. I shouldn't keep you. But I just wanted you to know."

"Of course, congratulations again."

Brenial started up the stairs and Ciara followed, Brug and the orcs went to go wait in the sitting room. This was one of Brug's favorite stops because Brenial's mother always offered her cookies. Brenial took Ciara up the stairs and to the end of the hall and knocked gently.

"Mom, Ciara's here."

"Oh, come in girls," came a voice from behind the closed door.

Brenial opened the door to find her mother, Sosseth, sitting in a rocking chair, knitting. She was an older, heavyset woman with straight, white hair that had been cut short, to neck length, to make it easier to take care of. She blinked as they entered. Ciara knew her vision wasn't very good but didn't have the skill to fix that yet. Ciara did note the blue of Sosseth's dress was perfectly even and vibrant, no doubt her daughter's work.

"Ciara, good to see you," said Sosseth. "Have you been eating?"

"I had a wonderful lunch just before I came here."

"Good, good. How are things at home? Is that man of yours treating you right?"

"Mom, how many times do I have to tell you," said Brenial.

"I'm sorry dear, that savay of yours."

Ciara forced a smile even though Sosseth probably couldn't see it, "Things are very well. He's a good savay and we have a lovely home. And how have you been feeling?"

"Oh just fine. My feet were a bit swollen the last few days, but not enough to really bother me."

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it yesterday."

"That's alright. It gave me time to catch up on my knitting. I'm knitting socks for my daughter's litter. You all say whelps don't get cold feet, but I don't believe it."

Ciara laughed and stepped forward.

"Can we move you to the bed?"

"Of course. Right to work, as always. You vay work too hard sometimes, I think."

"I'm sorry. My last patient pushed everything back. My... my savay will be missing me," said Ciara.

In truth she had one more appointment before she went home. One she hadn't told anyone about. She felt a surge of anxiety. She would be late for that appointment too and she wasn't sure if she'd even be strong enough to keep it. She would have to see how she felt after finishing with Sosseth.

"Of course, of course. We shouldn't keep your handsome savay waiting," said Sosseth.

The elderly woman got up out of the chair and winced. Brenial stepped forward.

"I got you, mom."

"I'm fine, dearie."

But Brenial ignored her mother and put an arm around her, helping her to the bed. She began to unbutton her mother's dress.

Sosseth sighed, "This feels so indecent."

"I'll turn around until you're ready, ma'am," said Ciara, "I only need to touch your back. You humans are too uptight sometimes, I think."

Sosseth gave a dry chuckle as her daughter began to roll her dress down. Ciara turned around for a moment.

"Alright," said Brenial.

Ciara turned and Sosseth was sitting on the bed, her back to Ciara. It was very pale with a speckling of moles. Ciara stepped forward, put her hands on the smooth skin, and began to sing the Song of Life.

It grew in her chest, the familiar warm feeling of the song filling her. It felt like lounging in the sun with a lover and laughing over drinks with a good friends. She directed the song into Sosseth and her body was revealed to Ciara, a glorious tableau. Ciara could see the woman's age, the silvery portrait of light was frayed, with little dim spots flowing along the lines of her body, but Ciara could sense her strength and her pure, enduring spirit. Ciara changed the song, directing her vision to the woman's kidneys. The lifesong revealed the damage to her. The silvery light was shot through with red and orange, and Ciara could feel the inflammation, the tortured flesh of the twin organs.

Ciara changed her song from the excitement of discovery to the soothing tones of restoration. The red began to recede as she soothed the inflammation, strengthened and supported the worn down organs. Ciara sang for a little over two minutes. She sang of renewal and joy, hope for a better day, and the simple desire every animal had to survive and her song filled Sosseth with that strength.

Ciara sensed her song had done its work, Sosseth's kidneys felt healthy enough for her to live another two weeks free of pain. Ciara pulled the song back and it faded away. Ciara slumped on the bed and took a breath, letting it out slowly. She felt tired, her muscles ached with exhaustion and sweat dripped from her forehead, but she knew she would be okay. She wasn't going to stumble or faint. Ciara felt a moment of pride that she had found the strength to recover from healing Landi's leg and still tend to Sosseth. Brenial offered her a glass of water, which she drank down greedily.

"How do you feel?" asked Ciara.

Sosseth straightened and turned to look over her shoulder.

"Much better. Thank you, dearie. I'll feel even better when I'm decent.

Ciara laughed and stood from the bed, turning again as Breniel helped her mother dress. When they were done, Ciara turned back to find Sosseth settling in her chair once again.

"That should hold for another two weeks," said Ciara, "If symptoms start any earlier, please send a runner."

"Bren, Ciara looks a little pale," said Sosseth, "Go fetch her a cup of tea and some of the cookies I baked the other day."

"Mom, Ciara said she has to go."

"Yes, ma'am I really need..."

"There's always time for cookies, isn't there? Bren, put them in one of the little boxes, she can take them with her."

Ciara sighed as Brenial stood to leave, mouthing an apology as she passed. Ciara was left standing in front of the older woman. She tried not to let the awkwardness overwhelm her. Sosseth took up her knitting again and continued to work on the tiny socks she was making for her daughter's whelps. For a few moments the only sound in the room was the clack of the old woman's knitting needles.

"Did my daughter tell you the news?" asked Sosseth.

"About being accepted as a full member of the sept? Yes she did. You should be very proud. Not many women are given the opportunity for full membership."

"I've noticed that. Brenial was always very talented, always a hard worker. She was always better than that no good husband of hers. He had her slaving way in the basement making dyes until her hands cracked and bled. Then he took the credit. The most beautiful purses and jackets in the city, with colors that never ran. He drank the money away and left her at home alone, with me. He was called to fight with the militia and he never came back. I don't miss him."

Ciara shifted uncomfortably. Her chest felt tight. Sosseh's voice had none of her usual warmth. It was cold and flat. The voice of a woman who had seen a lot of hardship in her long years.

"But I was speaking about the other news," said Sosseth.

"Of course. A double congratulations."

Sosseth nodded. Hands working her needles with the sure skill of years of practice. The tiny sock was almost done. Only a few more rows and she could start the next one.

"A granddaughter. I never thought I'd see one of those. And I have you to thank for it. I wouldn't have lived long enough to see her, if not for you."

Ciara's first thought was to deny it, but something in Sosseth's tone, the dry, clipped voice, made Ciara say the truth.

"You would have seen her, but not her first steps. It's why I do what I do."

Sosseth nodded, "I'll have my first grandaughter and maybe even see a few more. My daughter Elleth is working for a chandler a few streets over and is doing very well."

Sosseth was quiet for a moment. She dropped a stitch and her tongue clicked angrily. She began undoing the row carefully to fix her mistake.

"My daughter asked Orla to nurse her baby and Orla agreed," said Sosseth.

Ciara suddenly understood what this was about. She went to the bed and sat down facing Sosseth. Sosseth had undone the row in the sock and began reknitting it, the stitches smooth and precise. She didn't look up at Ciara.

"I see. It's fairly common, from what I've seen." said Ciara.

"So it's true then, what they say?"

Ciara nodded, "If Brenial nurses one of her whelps, in a year she'll have a human girl. If Orla nurses it, in a year Brenial will have a vay daughter."

Sosseth grunted, "It seems unnatural to me. But I suppose all of this is unnatural. My daughter has had ten children already, and they have grown into beasts. I see them hauling garbage and working the tanning vats."

"And they love her very much, I'm sure. Every orc loves its mother."

Sosseth grumbled before replying. Finally, she put her knitting down on her lap and looked Ciara in the eye. Ciara wasn't sure what she saw there. Sosseth's face was impassive, impossible to read.

"I never cared much for the future. I just wanted to survive to see my daughters grow up. But now that I'm here, at the end, I find I'm comforted by the idea my line will continue. It wasn't anything I ever thought about before. Women aren't encouraged to think that way. For Men, sons carry the blood, daughters are just vessels, vats that grow their sons. My daughters and I would all be forgotten.

Ciara shook her head. She liked humans but they believed the strangest things.

"I came here from back east from... from Haradon," said Ciara, using the human name for the Brightlands, "My father has held his lands there for twenty years. Near a city very much like this one. The women and vay there have lived together for all that time and we've slowly discovered what that means. Not many women are given the opportunity to join their sept and have a vay child. Many of those that can, do. There are many advantages to being a Vay. We have magic, we don't get sick, we recover faster from injuries, we live longer."

"Vay's feet don't swell when they get old?"

"Not so much. And... if a woman is given full sept membership, their daughter will have it too, regardless of whether they are human or vay, but..." Ciara trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud.

"But her daughter will have an easier time of it if they look like... if they are vay," said Sosseth.

"Yes. But even with all those advantages, many women choose to nurse their own daughters. They feel that if their daughter is a vay..."

"They're not really their daughter."

Ciara nodded.

"How many times have you had this conversation?" asked Sosseth.

"A few. I deliver a lot of litters."

"And what do you tell those girls, when they ask you what they should do?"

"I tell them... that whether their daughter is a human or a vay, they are still their daughter. And that is the absolute truth. The Song of Life can show you whether two living creatures are related, and when a woman has a vay daughter the Song tells you they are as tied together by blood as a human mother and daughter. The connection sings in their blood, it's written into their bones."

Sosseth nodded.

"But I also tell them if they choose to have a human daughter, that's a choice they can be proud of. I've read a great deal of your history and it's... inspiring. What you've built in the face of famine and plague and endless struggle. It's a lineage and a history every human should cherish. Even if your lives are full of sorrow, the struggle makes success all the sweeter."

"And do you really believe that?"

"I've dedicated my craft to helping humans live long enough to see their granddaughters, what do you think?"

Sosseth nodded again, "I suppose I'm just old. Things are so different now. We've lost so much and it makes me feel lost."

"But you've gained something too. You said your daughters have had more success in their crafts with their septs than they did when they were with their husbands."

"That's true. And if this will help my granddaughter prosper, I can hardly object. I suppose I'll get used to it."

Ciara nodded, "I've never seen a grandmother who didn't love their vay granddaughter. You don't need the Song of Life to know when someone's family. You can feel it."

Sosseth nodded.

Ciara stood from the bed, "I'm sorry, I really have to go."

"Of course. I'm sorry for keeping you. I don't know what happened to Brenial. You make sure you eat something. You're too skinny."

Ciara smiled, "I will, ma'am."

Ciara got up off the bed and walked towards the door, giving Sosseth a respectful nod as she passed. Ciara heard the clack of Sosseth's needles start up once again as she approached the door to the bedroom. When Ciara went to the door she saw that it was opened a crack. She hesitated a minute, then pushed it open. Brenial was in the hall with a box of cookies in her hand. Tears were streaming down her face.

Ciara hesitated, then closed the door behind her and turned back to Brenial.

"It's alright," she said.

Brenial put a hand over her eyes and ran it down her face, wiping away her tears.

"I have no idea what I'm doing," she said.

"No one ever does."

"I just want what's best for her but I don't know what that is."

Ciara resisted the urge to rub her forehead. She hated this part of her craft. She wished she could just sing a song and heal people's spirits the way she could with their bodies.

"There isn't a right answer. The only thing you have to do is love her. The rest comes from that."

Brenial closed her eyes and nodded, drawing in a sharp breath.

"I really have to go," said Ciara.

"I know. I know. Goddess I'm so sorry."

"It's alright."

"This isn't any of your business."

"It is, actually."

"Let me show you to the door. Oh, here."

Brenial held the box of cookies out and Ciara took it.

...

Thala waited in her families' old hunting lodge. Being back here always brought her a mix of joy and pain. The small cabin was only a few miles from her family's farm. Her family had called it a hunting lodge but it had been mostly a hideaway for her father and later her brothers when they wanted to slip away from their responsibilities for a while. But this had been her place too. Her father had taken her here when she was still a child and taught her woodcraft. She had learned the plants of the forest and their properties, how to move unseen and silent through brush and deadfall, and how to bring down a deer at fifty yards. Even though her family had been farmers for generations they never forgot they had fled to this land after some long forgotten calamity. It was a tradition that the family be able to fend for themselves should disaster ever come for them again. Normally only the men were taught those skills but Thala had been headstrong from the moment she could talk and had started getting lost in the woods soon after she could walk, so her father had taught her the same as her brothers. Thala smiled to herself as she remembered how angry her brother Bam would get when she ambushed him in the woods, or slipped away no matter how hard he tried to track her.

Now she sat in her father's comfortable lounge chair and waited. The signal lantern was burning in the window to let her sister know that she was here. As she waited she tried to remember the time she spent with her father in this cabin; the smell of his pipe smoke after a successful hunt, his rough laugh, his small smiles, the salt and pepper of his beard. Every year her memories of him would fade a little more, no matter how much she tried to keep them. Thala sat in the chair and fought the fading of her own mind. She needed to remember what she was fighting for.

Thala waited and waited and her sister still didn't come. She started to worry that her long absence had broken their already strained relationship. She hadn't gotten along with her sister even before the war. Thala was the oldest child and her sister was the youngest and the gap of years had kept them distant from each other. It hadn't helped that her baby sister had been impossibly difficult, short tempered, and stubborn as a child. Most of all, though no one in the family would ever say it out loud, their mother had died having her younger sister and that tragedy stuck to her like tar, poisoning their relationship in a hundred small ways. When the men in the family had died and Thala had told her they were fleeing across the river, her sister had defied her, insisting she would never abandon their home, even though it had never been a happy place for her. Thala always thought she did it just to spite her.

Thala had returned to the farm two years later to find her sister changed. They had both been scarred by what they had endured in those missing two years and that shared suffering let them reach an accommodation. Now Thala visited whenever she could, to try and preserve some vestige of the family she still had.

Her visits had another purpose as well. Her sister had a knack for language and had learned the orcs language far better than most humans. Her sister had taught Thala, and along with the language she had learned how the orcs thought, the way their society functioned, and about the septs and the savay that protected this section of the border. It gave her the knowledge she needed to learn how to fight the enemy. The failed ambush had been set up using the information her sister had given her, and Thala hoped, with her new position, she could put her sister's knowledge to even better use.

Just as Thala had resolved to risk going to the farm to look for her sister she heard her footsteps approaching the cabin and let out a relieved sigh. It seemed this was one thing she hadn't managed to ruin.

A moment later the door opened and her sister stood in the doorway, her features hidden by the evening shadows.

"Thala," said her sister.

Thala stood. She found her throat was thick and she had to clear it.

"Cesta."

Cesta ran forward and threw her arms around Thala in a hug. Thala felt a moment of shock. Cesta rarely hugged her even when there were long spaces between their visits, but a moment later Thala's arms went around her sister's shoulders and she held her close, sinking into the comfort of holding the last of her family in her arms.

"I thought you were dead," said Cesta, her voice a strained whisper, "I thought you were dead."

As she held Cesta close, Thala felt her sister's stomach press into her. Thala fought a wave of anger and disgust. Cesta was pregnant again. Declan or Darragh had fucked her sister and gotten her pregnant with their fucking monster babies. Again.

Thala must have failed to hide her reaction because Cesta pulled away suddenly. Cesta backed up and ran a nervous hand through her hair. Her hand started to drift down to her stomach but then she put it to her side and made a fist.

"I was so scared," said Cesta, "I heard about the ambush at market. The vay were all crowing about it. Half the rangers dead and half captured. The only reason I didn't lose it was there was a wild story about the captured rangers escaping. None of the vay believed it but this one woman insisted Declan had been carried into her vay's house unconscious and the rangers had stolen all the horses."

"We didn't steal them, they were our horses."

Cesta took a step forward, "So it was true then, you were captured and you escaped? Is Idra okay?"

Thala tried to keep her voice steady, suppressing a wave of fresh hurt, but she failed.

"Yes, I got him home."

Cesta didn't catch the tension in her voice, "Oh thank god. I'm so sorry about the other rangers. Did you... were any of them your friends?"

Thala felt a tear welling up. She wiped her eyes.

"Yes, one of them was a very good friend. Declan killed him."

"I'm so sorry," said Cesta, "What happened? How did you get away? Did you really knock Declan out?"

Thala laughed, "I did. I took him hostage first."

Thala quickly told her sister the story of the ambush and escape. Their disastrous capture, the hard forced march, her taking Declan hostage, her tense negotiation with Ronan. The only thing she left out, as usual, was what had happened with Ronan in the field.

When she finished Cesta was very quiet for a moment.

"That's a mad story."

Thala nodded, "I was too busy trying to survive to think about it as it was happening but... yes it was."

Cesta laughed, "I wish I could have seen the look on Declan's face when you pulled the knife on him."

Thala smirked, "It was priceless."

Cesta looked uncertain for a moment.

"He was here."

"Who?"

"Ronan. They stopped here for the night. I wish I could have warned you. I thought about riding out..."

"I'm glad you didn't. This is dangerous enough as it is. Did you... talk to him?" asked Thala.

Cesta's mouth opened and closed again and she blushed. This time she couldn't stop her hand from going to her stomach.

"Yes, yes we talked," she said, her voice deceptively calm.

Thala ground her teeth. She had been wrong. It wasnt Declan who had fucked her sister this time. She regretted not killing Ronan when she had the chance.

"I was so worried when he left," continued Cesta, "I didn't want him to get hurt. But if he hadn't been here..."

"Then Declan would be alone and my friends would be alive."

"Or Darragh would have been there instead and maybe you'd be..." Cesta swallowed.

They both paused for another moment. Thala struggled with what to say about Ronan, about what had happened. The idea that an orc sorcerer could be honorable threatened everything she knew about the enemy.

"I'm just glad you're safe," said Cesta, she sounded slightly accusatory.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get back to you, but so much has happened. I had to get the rangers back to Cirineliath and then I had to report to the Seneschal and... I'm sorry. But I have so much to tell you."

"I have to tell you something too," said Cesta.

"Alright, alright, but let me go first. This is important. The Seneschal rewarded me for saving Idra's life. He gave me land, an estate near the city. I haven't been there but it's supposed to be beautiful country. It's where they make wine and breed horses for the city."

Thala stepped toward her sister.

"I could take you there. You and Niril and little Amdi. We'll bring the horses with us. I know you want to keep this place safe but the horses are the core of our legacy. You can keep our father's work alive while Amdi grows up. You could... You could find someone, you could continue our family line while I fight to free our home, and someday we can all come back here."

Cesta ran a hand through her hair, visibly struggling.

"You know we can't. You know how they treat women like me and Niril across the river. There's not going to be anything for us over there."

Thala gritted her teeth. She had lived in the slums of Barad Diriel her first year across the river, and they were full of women who had fled after they had been captured by the orcs and forced to bear litters. The Seneschal had decreed any woman that had lain with an orc had to wear a green patch on their clothes to announce what was hidden beneath. Allegedly it was to warn decent citizens the refugees might be enthralled to the sorcerers that had used them. The women were forced to do the most degrading labor, and far too many survived as prostitutes.

"It wouldn't be like that for you. You'll be on our land. You would own it as much as me. You'd be safe there. Respectable."

Cesta closed her eyes and Thala saw they were wet.

"That sounds wonderful. It sounds like a dream."

"It does, but it's real, " said Thala, "It's real and you just have to take it."

But Cesta shook her head, "I can't. You should take Niril and Amdi and the horses, but I can't go with you."

Thala barely kept her temper in check.

"Why? This place isn't ours anymore, it's theirs."

"I know," said Cesta.

"All you're doing is helping them..."

"I know! I was wrong, okay? How many times are you going to make me say it? I was young and stupid and I ruined myself for nothing, but that's over now. I'm leaving too, but I'm not going across the river. Thala... Ronan told me they're alive. Dad and Bam and Maf. They're alive."

Thala just stared at her sister, incredulous. She couldn't believe someone related to her could be this foolish.

"Sis, he was lying to you," she said. She tried to keep her voice gentle.

Cesta shook her head, "He wasn't lying."

"He was just telling you what you wanted to hear so you'd sleep with him."

"He told me after I slept with him!" screamed Cesta, shockingly loud.

This time Thala couldn't keep the disgust from her face. Cesta turned away from her and wiped her eyes. Then she looked up at the ceiling with her back still turned from Thala.

"You know, Ronan told me that I should be proud of what I was doing," said Cesta. "That keeping my family's legacy alive was the honorable thing to do. He told me... he told me that my family would be proud of me if they knew. I guess he was wrong about that."

"He told you that because..."

Cesta finally turned around, she was very pale.

"... He told me that because he believes it. He's the only person who hasn't made me feel like trash since you abandoned me."

"I didn't..." Thala started to say but she stopped. She knew yelling at Cesta was not going to get her to see reason. She swallowed down her anger and summoned calm, "... I'm sorry. I should have come sooner back then too. But I was angry and hurting and... I was a fool and I'll regret until the day I die that I failed you. But we have a chance to start over. Come back with me, don't throw it away this time. Dad and Bam and Maf are gone but they can live on in us."

"They're not gone. Ronan told me the Vay sold their prisoners to the Khazad, to pay off the debts the Seneschal reneged on. If we pay their debts the Khazad will let them go. I'm going to go into the Brightlands... into Haradon, and I'm not leaving until I get them out."

"That's impossible. The orcs don't take prisoners."

"I asked around at market all the Vay say the same thing. You just have to ask them. Didn't you say Ronan was going to turn the rangers in for a bounty? Who was paying?"

Thala started to get uneasy. Cesta's story was starting to sound plausible.

"No. If the Khazad were holding our men for... for ransom then they would have come to us and offered terms," said Thala.

"Maybe they did."

"We're desperate for recruits for the army. If we could just pay to get them back the Seneschal would have done it."

"Maybe he doesn't want to pay. And how would the people feel if they knew their loved ones were alive but the Seneschal wouldn't pay for their freedom?"

Thala opened her mouth and closed it. She remembered the Seneschal mentioning he had purchased artillery from the Khazad. If the Seneschal had to choose between spending money on men or guns she had a feeling which he would choose.

But Thala shook her head, "No, no if the Seneschal had kept this a secret, Idra would have told me."

Cesta's eyes widened, "Oh. Oh that bastard."

"I'm not agreeing..." A horrible feeling started to grow in Thala's mind, but she pressed it down "... No. He wouldn't do that to me."

"You said..." Cesta hesitated "... You said Idra's greatest fear is disappointing his father."

That was too much, Thala felt her temper go. She tried to get a hold of herself but she had just lost Idra and the wound was too raw and too deep.

"I'm not listening to this," she said.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

"No. No, I have tried to save you over and over again and you always throw it back in my face. I love you so much and you're all I have left and you won't let me help you," Thal's voice rose to a ragged shout.

"Thala, please..."

"No. If you want to throw the last scraps of your dignity away chasing ghosts that's your business, but we're done. I can't... I can't do this anymore. I can't go through losing anyone else."

And with that Thala turned and walked out of the cabin. All her skill at stealth forgotten as she stumbled through the dark woods.

...

Ciara stood in front of the route map at the rickshaw station, looking at the routes. She had walked to the nearest station after treating Sosseth. It was early evening and she was tired. It had been a very long, very stressful day. She knew she should just go home. The number six route would drop her at the end of her block and a bath and a nice meal would be waiting for her.

But the frustrations of this day had fed into other frustration, as they often did with her. Her belly was a knot of tension and she could feel the faintest trickle of heat between her legs. If she went home He was going to be there too. With his tousled black hair and those eyes and his lithe, strong body. She'd go to sleep and he'd be just down the hall. Stopping herself from walking to his room and climbing into his bed, their bed, was going to lead to another night of frustration. She could touch herself in the bath and that would help. But she knew from past experience it wasn't enough. She'd end up sitting in bed wide awake even though she was exhausted, from the need she couldn't fulfill.

She turned to Brug, "We're taking the number four."

Brug sighed, "Sure thing, boss."

The number four dropped two blocks away from the house. Ciara's steps were quick and bouncy. She tried not to walk any faster than normal, Brug would be able to tell and it wouldn't be dignified, but it was hard not to. In a short time she was in front of the house. Staring up at it. She hesitated one more time. It was really too late and she was too tired for this, Hamenel would be worried. There were many reasons to just turn around and go home. But He was going to be at home. She turned to Brug.

"You can wait outside."

Brug looked at her, conflict racing across her grey, tusked face. Ciara had learned not to come here with Lum. It wasn't fair to her. The scout thraka's hearing was so sensitive she always heard what happened inside. She had come here a few times with Lum before she realized and it still made things difficult between them.

Then Brug blew out a breath as her anxiety overcame her duty, "I'll be right outside."

Ciara nodded, then walked up the steps and knocked.

A moment later the door opened and Rois was there. The broad shouldered vay smiled her big grin.

"You look like shit."

"Good to see you too," said Ciara.

Rois looked past her, "Hey, Brug."

"Rois," said Brug. Her voice was carefully neutral.

Then Rois grabbed Ciara by her shirt collar and pulled her inside. Ciara kicked the door closed behind her as Rois pulled her down for a kiss. Rois' kisses were big and hungry and Ciara found herself matching them. Their mouths moved over each other and their tongues danced. Rois pushed her against the wall of the hallway and she hit it hard enough to shock her. Ciara was a good four inches taller than Rois so when she straightened against the wall, Rois had to kiss her neck as her hands started working the buttons of her shirt. Ciara moaned as Rois' lips lit the skin of her neck. Rois finished unbuttoning Ciara's shirt and her hands snaked behind her back to untie her breast binding. Ciara's nipples stiffened in the open air a moment before Rois's tough, leathery hands began squeezing her breasts.

"Oh goddess," gasped Ciara, she loved Rois' hands. The makervay was very strong and her hands molded Ciara's breasts the same way she did stone and wood. As Rois' hands moved over Ciara's body, she nipped her neck. Ciara felt tension in her belly and damp wet heat build between her legs. Her pussy lips loosened and lengthened, eager to feel rois move against her.

Then Rois backed away from her. She was wearing beat up blue overalls over a stained grey shirt. Rois unhooked the overall straps and the bib fell down to hang loose past her waist. Her shirt came off a moment later, revealing her breasts - big and impossible to look away from. Ciara stared, entranced for a moment, before Rois turned, and started up the stairs. Ciara watched her lover's ass sway with each step as the overalls slowly slipped down her wide hips. Halfway up the stairs the overalls finally cleared her hips and fell in a puddle on the stairs, leaving her in only a pair of underwear. Ciara stared at Rois' big, beautiful round ass for a moment, then started up the stairs after her lover. The damp heat between her legs pulsed with each step. Ciara shed the rest of her clothes as she ascended. Her shirt fell draped across the banister and her pants fell in a heap next to Rois' overalls. When Ciara's pants came off she felt a chill on her thighs and her groin as the air cooled the wetness coming from her slit. Ciara became very aware of her lips sliding against each other as she walked, and it sent shudders of anticipation through her. When Rois reached the top of the stairs the underwear came off, she tossed it to Ciara as she turned and went into the bedroom. Ciara shed her plain, off-white panties at the top of the stairs and followed.

Rois was waiting for her next to the bed. Her naked body lit by song-lamps she had made herself. She had bright green skin like a leaf canopy backlit by the sun, a broad torso and powerful shoulders. It was a body equally at home working metal and wood and bearing big litters of strong orcs. Ciara's eyes were drawn to Rois' crotch and she saw Rois' lips were dark and loose, her arousal obvious. Ciara looked down at her own body for a moment and laughed at the contrast. She was tall and almost skinny, with small breasts and wide flaring hips.

"Admiring yourself?" asked Rois.

Ciara lifted her chin. Rois was bold and it made her bold.

"Yes, I was just thinking about how lucky you are," she said.

"Oh arrogance. Someone's getting too big for their britches," said Rois.

Ciara stepped forward, "I'm not wearing britches."

"I can see that. Why don't you come here and we'll see if I can wipe that smug grin off your face."

Ciara's steps quickened and she was laughing when she reached Rois. Her lover's arms went around her and Ciara's world spun as Rois turned and threw her into bed. Ciara kept laughing as she bounced on the mattress. A moment later Rois was on top of her. Rois' mouth found hers again as Ciara's arms went around Rois' back. A hand went in Ciara's hair as Rois pressed down on her. Ciara ran her hand over Rois' wide, smooth flanks, a vast beautiful land for her to explore.

Then Rois pulled away to look down at Ciara while she shifted her hips. As Rois adjusted her position Ciara opened her legs wider. Ciara's breath spread up as she felt the heat of Rois' cunt. Rois paused for a moment and locked eyes with her, a small grin on her face.

"Alright, I admit it. I am very lucky," she said.

Then Rois pushed forward, pressing into her. Ciara gasped as Rois' pussy lips flowed over hers. Surrounding her, enveloping her cunt. Their labia locked together and Ciara stretched her arms above her head as she sank into the warm, wet heat of her lover's lips. Rois leaned down and kissed her one more time. This one was deep and slow and loving.

Then Rois began to move, pressing into Ciara. Every time Rois thrust her cuntlips would massage Ciara's, opening and closing like a hungry mouth. Each press of their groins together, each slide of their lips against each other, set shocks of pleasure ricocheting through Ciara's body. The waves of tension and sensation reverberated through her belly and over her skin. Rois settled down on Ciara, her head coming to rest in the crook of Ciara's neck. Her breasts pressed against Ciara's chest as she thrust, a comforting, pillowy feeling. Rois grunted with each thrust, her hot breath washing over Ciara's face. Ciara gave high little sighs as they settled into a repetitive motion, pressing their cunts together and sparking delight in a continuous rhythm of pleasure.

Rois pushed herself up, propping herself up on her hands, so they could get a better view of each other. They were getting close, they were both flushed and damp with sweat. Ciara looked down the length of their bodies. Marveling at the sway of Rois' breasts. She pressed her hips up and saw Rois'pussy lips. They were wide open and dark, folded back and pressed against Ciara's crotch, moving in a kissing motion just like a mouth. The sight of Rois fucking her, eating her with her pussy, wound up the th spring in Ciara's groin. Her body vibrated with tension as her climax approached. Ciara pulled herself up, pulling on Rois' shoulders to get close to her ear.

"I'm going to come," she said.

"Fuck, me too. I'm so close," said Rois.

"Come in me," said Ciara, using the voice of command, as if she was ordering a servant.

Rois shuddered and shouted as she climaxed. Rois' lips started spasming, eating Ciara's cunt even more rapidly than before. The pressure sent Ciara over the edge too. The knot in her belly exploded into a tight ball of ecstasy as she climaxed. As she did she pulled Rois down onto her and bit into her shoulder. Rois hollered, pain and pleasure mixed, as their shared climax took them. There was a splash of warmth as Rois' cum washed over her, soaking the bed. They stayed suspended, riding the waves of pleasure until at last they began to ebb, and they both went limp.

Rois took a deep breath and rolled off of Ciara, running a hand up and down her lover's body. She paused when she reached the wet slick across Ciara's belly.

"Fuck, I made a mess," said Rois.

"Sorry," said Ciara. Rois always ejaculated harder than the other vay lovers she had. It was one of the things she liked about her

"I do blame you. Its because you're so fucking hot."

"I think you're just a mess."

Rois laughed. Ciara rubbed a hand over her own belly, feeling the wetness Rois had spilled on her. It was strange to think in the time before the savay Rois could have chosen to send a seed into her belly along with the tide of cum. Ciara could have been starting to grow her and Rois' daughter right now. But those days were long gone. Rois' cum was just a big burst of sterile fluid. It was another thing the Giftgiver had taken from them.

"You looked happy for exactly five seconds and now you look anxious again," said Rois.

"I'm sorry."

"You're supposed to be relaxing."

"I know. I was just thinking how much easier my life would be if vay could still have children with each other," said Ciara.

"You need to have a litter."

Ciara put her hands over her face and dragged them down.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't joke about that," said Rois.

"It's fine. It's not anything I don't know."

"And you are right. Savay are nothing but a pain in the ass. If Eaba was your daughter she'd be a lot better behaved," said Rois.

"I seriously doubt that. Where is she, by the way?"

"With her father, which means really with her sept mothers. You said you were coming by so I dropped her off for the afternoon. I was supposed to go pick her up... right about now actually."

"I'm sorry. I had a difficult case. It held me up."

"It's fine, her sept mothers love her and Eaba loves the food. They have much better cooks in her father's house."

Ciara laughed and leaned over to kiss Rois again. This time it was easy and comforting. Rois ran a hand down her back. They kissed for a few minutes, taking comfort in each other's bodies. Then Ciara pulled away.

"Oh, I should heal your shoulder," said Ciara.

Rois covered the bite with her hand.

"Don't you dare. This way I'll be reminded of this every time I look in the mirror this week."

Ciara laughed. Her laugh trailed off and she tried to hold back the next thing she needed to say, but duty dragged it out of her.

"I should get going," she said.

"No, you should stay here."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"It would be disrespectful to Him," said Ciara.

Rois snorted, "I told you. Nothing but a pain in the ass."

"I know."

"Is he still hot?"

Ciara closed her eyes.

"Goddess, yes," she said, "it's horrible."

"Yes, horrible. Are you sure you don't want to just move in here with me? It'd probably take him a few months to notice. Your maid could cover for you."

"So can I experience the joys of your cooking?"

"You could bring your cook with you," said Rois.

"Oh I see your plan now. You could come back with me. I'm sure he would love to have a skilled makervay in his house."

Rois' smile faded away, "You really mean that?"

Ciara was taken aback. She had just been teasing but now that Rois was asking she gave the question serious thought.

"I'm not really in a position to suggest anything to him but... yes, I do."

Rois turned onto her back and stretched and Ciara's breath caught at the view. Then Rois turned her face away from Ciara, as if she was ashamed.

"It's hard, you know? I like being unbound," said Rois. She was still turned away from Ciara and she was speaking quietly. Ciara had to lean forward to hear her.

"I like being my own vay," continued Rois, "I earn my own money and I whelp when I please, with who I please."

Rois turned back to Ciara, her face suddenly very close but her voice was still quiet.

"But with Eaba... goddess, she's growing up so fast. I'll start teaching her my craft soon. Before you know it she'll be looking for a savay to be bound to. She's so smart already, smarter than I ever was, but it'll be easier for her to find a good house, find a good savay, if she's in a good house already."

"Maybe she doesn't need to be bound at all. Just like you," said Ciara, "A vay can make her own way these days."

Rois snorted and rolled onto her back again, covering her eyes with her forearm.

"It's a lot easier when you have money. And even if she could... If she's anything like me it's going to be hard to keep the savay off her, and I won't be able to trust her to do it. I don't want her to end up with her first litter at sixteen."

Ciara sighed. That was the big risk of being the daughter of an unbound vay. No decent savay would lay with a vay before she turned eighteen, but there were plenty of unscrupulous savay. Even if your mother could support you with her craft, it was dangerous to have no savay to protect you. Young vay were more vulnerable to Allure, making it easy for savay to take advantage of them, and having a litter young could give a vay a bad reputation. Worst of all, vay that had litters when they were young and immature could become addicted to whelping. It was easy for things to snowball and they could end up as a striapach. Being part of a savay's house, having a savay honorbound to protect you, was the best way to keep a young vay safe.

Ciara touched the side of her lover's face. Rois turned back to her.

"I'm sorry," said Rois, "I really didn't mean to ask that. It just slipped out."

"That's alright. I brought it up."

"I know things are hard for you right now. You just wanted this to be... an escape. Until you settled things at home. I'm sure you'll work it out with him and he'll bind younger, prettier vay for you to lay with. You won't need me for long."

"Hey, stop," Ciara leaned down and kissed her lover, "Don't be silly. You're as beautiful as any vay I've laid with," She ran a hand over her body as emphasis and Rois made a small noise, "And you make me laugh. I want that in my life."

There was a moment of tension between them as they thought through what had been said. Ciara felt bitter. Rois' strength and independence was one of the things that had drawn her to the older, unbound vay. She was free of the obligations and expectations that bound Ciara at every turn. Rois was what Ciara wished she could be; a vay bound to her craft and nothing more, with a daughter she could be proud of. This conversation had been a rude reminder that Rois' had simply traded one set of worries for another. At the same time Ciara felt frustration that her own situation prevented her from helping her lover, no matter how much she cared for her.

"You don't have to decide anything right away," said Ciara, "It's not like I'm in any position to ask Him right now. We still have time."

"Of course," said Rois, "there's still time. Years even. I just... I knew being a mom would be hard but... it's so much scarier than I thought it would be. Wood and metal are so much easier to handle. And... I can't patch up Eaba if I break her."

Ciara snuggled next to Rois. Knowing they had time made her less worried, and the solid feel of her lover's body relaxed her.

"I know," said Ciara, "But you don't need to be afraid. You'll figure it out, and maybe we can figure it out together."

Rois put an arm around her shoulder and the both closed their eyes, enjoying a quiet moment together, free of fear.

...

Ciara turned the corner and was on her block, Brug and her orcs a step behind her. As she approached her house she thought how funny it was that, despite everything, it did feel like her home. It already had that sense of comfort and familiarity. When she had lived with her family in the vay house she had been surrounded by sisters and loved ones and had enjoyed the constant thrum of life in a large, happy family. However, even though she had loved her sept sisters and mothers, she had always been somewhat apart from them. First because of her skin and the expectations that came with it, and later because of the disappointment of those expectations and her withdrawal into her craft. In the last few years, her wish was to have a quiet space for herself, to practice her craft, and that was exactly what she had here. Now that she had it the loneliness was more difficult than he had expected, and His constant presence in the background was like a wound she couldn't heal, but she found she could bear it and took comfort in finally having the quiet and space she had craved.

Ciara walked up the steps to her new home and slipped inside. Normally Brug would get the door for her but she had done enough today already. Hamenel came at the sound of the door and gave a relieved sigh.

"You're late," she said.

Now that Ciara was home and safe she let her shoulders slump.

"That leg injury was a lot worse than expected. I took a long lunch in the garden and dozed off," she said.

Ciara resisted the urge to look at Brug. She honestly didn't know if the thraka would give Hamenel more details later. It depended on whether the thraka thought her duty to protect Ciara was more important than her obligation to keep her affairs confidential. In the end Ciara didn't have any control over it and it wouldn't change anything. Hamenel already knew how far Ciara would push herself for her patients and days like this were only a matter of time.

Hamenel's lips thinned. She had probably already guessed what had happened.

"Another meal and a bath would be greatly appreciated," said Ciara, "I feel miserable."

"You work too hard," said Hamenel.

"I know."

Hamenel looked away to hide her frustration, then turned toward the kitchen to tell Gladil to prepare another meal and to guide the orcs to begin filling the tub in her room. Twenty minutes later Ciara was in the bath, a small table ws next to her with a fruit and cheese plate and a cool glass of the cider Brug had offered her earlier. Ciara had slumped in the tub, her eyes closed, while Hamenel washed her hair. Ciara was convinced there was nothing in the world quite as relaxing as having her hair washed by Hamanel. It was as restorative as any song she could sing.

Thirty minutes after her bath she was in bed, reading a human history about war for the Haradonian Succession. Before becoming a healer, Ciara had trained as a scholarvay with a focus in history. It was a common craft for wealthy vay aiming to become head housevay to a powerful sept. Vay believed knowledge of the past would help a vay advise her savay about the future. Ciara was never sure how true that was but she had enjoyed academic study and had no objection to pursuing scholarship. Switching her craft to healing, a far less prestigious craft, was the first disappointment Ciara had inflicted on her mother.

Even though her days as a scholar were long behind her, Ciara still had an interest in history and kept it as a hobby. The Haradonian Succession War was always of avid interest to her. It had taken place about fifty years ago, in the kingdom that would become the Brightlands. At that time, the Vay colonists that had crossed the waste had still been penned in the arid foothills on the eastern edge of the kingdom by the humans, eking out a meager existence herding cattle and raiding their human neighbors. Ciara's grandfather had actually fought in the human's war as a mercenary, and the wealth he had gained had been the first step in making the Cam'Teren a great sept.

The war was another reason the Vay had been able to conquer the Brightlands. The humans had run up enormous debts to the Khazad to fund their civil war. After the war was over, the humans tried to declare bankruptcy but the Khazad had refused to accept it. To the Khazad, a debt was sacred and declaring bankruptcy was akin to blasphemy. To punish the humans for their sin, the Khazad had declared a portion of the debt was on the head of each and every human in Haradon and had hired the Vay to collect. The Khazad had paid the Vay in iron and guns, giving them the weapons they needed to defeat the human's armies. The Khazad only wanted the humans who owed them a debt and cared nothing for land beyond their mountain, leaving it all for the Vay. Ciara took the human's self inflicted defeat as an important lesson. Even winning a war wasn't always a victory. The cost could be so high that victory could still bring ruin.

After only a few minutes of reading Ciara's eyes began to droop. The war was a fascinating topic but like many histories written by Man it was dry and pompous, written as much to show off the author's cleverness as to make an argument. Ciara much preferred the warmer, more familiar tones of history written by scholarvay. She regretted briefly she would never have the chance to write her own history of the conquest of Haradon and the founding of the Brighltands, but the satisfaction she got saving Landi's leg, helping Sosseth live to see her grandchildren, more than made up for it. She just hoped someday some young scholarvay would write the book she'd never have the chance to write herself. She couldn't wait to read it.

Ciara marked her place in the book, settled back in her bed, and let herself drift off to sleep.

...

"Ciara, Ciara wake up."

Ciara jerked awake suddenly, sitting up in a panic. Hamenel's voice was strained and fearful and she knew instantly something was wrong. The panic banished the fog in Ciara's head with a tide of adrenaline.

"What is it?"

"There's a commotion at the door. I think it's someone seeking treatment. They're very distraught."

Ciara's fear redoubled. If some of her patients were causing trouble they were going to wake Him up. She flew out of bed, grabbing the robe Hamenel handed her and throwing it on. As soon as she opened the door to her bedroom she heard the shouts. The house had an open front hall with the upper bedrooms looking out downstairs from a kind of balcony. She looked down and saw Brug confronting whoever was at the door. There was an anger in her loud, booming voice Ciara had never heard before. Ciara raced down the stairs, bare feet slapping on the wood. Brug looked over her shoulder at her as she reached the bottom.

"Stay back, Vayné."

But Ciara ignored her and went to the door, having to peek out around Brug's huge frame. There were two women on the front steps. They looked like they were in their late forties. Ciara recognized the terrified, desperate look in their eyes. It was the look of someone whose loved one was going to die. When they saw her one of the women reached for her but Brug bared her fangs and actually snarled. The women dropped to their knees and put their arms out, a sign of total submission for the Vay.

"Brug, give me some room," said Ciara.

"I can't let some humans just barge in here and..."

"What is going on here?" He asked.

Ciara looked up and there He was, almost directly above her on the balcony outside His room. When she saw Him she felt a surge of panic so strong she couldn't breathe. This was her worst nightmare. Her craft and her business displayed for Him to see in the least flattering light possible.

"There's just some humans causing trouble," said Brug, "I'll..."

"They're here for my help," said Ciara.

He ran a hand through His hair.

"What do they want?" He asked.

"I was about to find out if Brug will just give me a moment."

He hesitated a moment.

"Let her talk to them, Brug," He said.

"But boss..."

"It's not our place to come between a vay and her craft."

Brug clacked her mouth shut and took a step back.

Ciara moved forward and knelt by the women groveling on her front steps.

"Please, tell me what's wrong."

The women looked up, one gave Brug a nervous glance.

"It's alright," said Ciara, she kept her voice calm and soft.

"It's my daughter. She's in the cart. We brought her to Mama Nesta but she said there was nothing she could do. She said... she said it is the water madness."

Ciara couldn't prevent herself from drawing a sharp breath. Of the endless panoply of diseases the Allfather had inflicted on humanity, the water madness was one of the worst. She felt someone coming up behind her and she stood and turned and He was there, right in front of her. When she turned He stopped short and backed up a step. She realized her robe had come untied when she had knelt and underneath she had only a thin nightshirt on that stopped above midthigh. She smelled the faintest hint of his Allure and took a step back herself, quickly retied her robe, and crossed her arms. She couldn't afford to be distracted right now.

"What..." He cleared his throat, "... what is the problem?"

"Her daughter is very sick."

"Why?"

Ciara knew what he was asking. Illness was so rare for the Vay they couldn't understand how it could happen. They barely understood what it was. Ciara didn't have time or the patience to explain it to him right now.

"Humans get sick more often than Vay. It's like fireblight."

He went pale. Fireblight was one of the two diseases it was possible for Vay to get, and it was an illness every Vay feared.

"Is it dangerous to you?"

"No, no this illness can't be spread to Vay, and it's difficult to spread between humans."

"Then... by all means, help them," He said, and took another step back.

Ciara felt the knot of tension unwind. He wasn't going to interfere or demand any more explanation or criticize. She could focus on the almost impossible task in front of her and go back to ignoring Him. She turned back to the two women.

"I will help you. I'm going to have my thraka bring your daughter in the side entrance."

The mother scrunched her eyes shut and started weeping, Ciara turned to Brug, switching to Pellic.

"Her daughter is in..." she glanced out to the street and saw a mule cart "... She's in the cart. Carry her around to the side entrance. She's going to be... distressed. Be careful with her, but don't worry, Vay are immune to what she has."

Brug nodded and went to go comply. The women had to stand quickly to scramble out of the thraka's way and then followed her.

Ciara turned back around to look for Hamanel and found her at the bottom of the stairs just behind Him.

"Wake up Gladil," she told her maid, "Tell her to make a big pot of chicken soup and... the most appetizing meal of pit mushrooms she can make. A big portion."

He blanched but Hamenel just nodded.

"And cancel all my appointments for tomorrow... for the next two days."

"Are you sure?" asked Hamenel.

Ciara knew what she was really asking. Would Ciara consider not treating the girl? Would she consider giving up and letting her die?

"I'm sure."

Hamenel started towards the servants quarters to wake Gladil. Ciara hesitated, then started up the stairs. She hated to take the time but she was not going to spend the night in her nightdress in front of everyone. She had to push past Him to start up the stairs, holding her breath as she passed to block his Allure. It was the closest she had gotten to him since the night of their binding but she was focused on her craft now and she didn't let it bother her.

He started following her up the stairs and she had to catch the railing to stop from stumbling but she quickly recovered and continued moving down the hall to her room. She ran to her dresser and threw on simple, comfortable clothes; a pair of baggy, brown cotton pants and a loose grey shirt. She gritted her teeth when she realized she was out of practice putting on a breast binding without Hamenel's help, but managed it eventually. She tied her hair back in a pony tail and marched out of her room again. She stopped short when she saw Him waiting outside.

"What is it?" she asked. She heard the exasperation in her voice.

"I..." He straightened and visibly gathered himself. "... I've decided I want to observe your craft."

"I can't afford to be distracted right now."

"I promise I'll stay out of the way. You wont even know I'm there."

She seriously doubted that was true but she really didn't want to argue with Him, so she walked past him without a word and he scrambled to follow. She actually walked into his room instead of towards the stairs, because there was a back staircase to the servant's quarters that would get her to her lab faster.

When she walked into her lab she cringed. She had left it a mess. Her desk was covered in papers; letters to colleagues who made a study of humans, tracts on fungiculture, and medical texts by both Man and Vay. A pair of bookshelves against one wall held books and a dozen large glass jars full of mushrooms.

Her embarrassment about the state of her lab vanished when she saw the girl. Brug had laid her on the bed she had set up to rest in the lab and eventually to treat patients. She couldn't have been older than sixteen, skinny, with pale brown hair. The water madness had sunk its claws deep. She was spasming and twitching, her skin deathly pale and drenched in sweat. Her eyes were empty and wild, tormented by surges of anxiety and aimless terror. Most horrible of all, foam was leaking out of her mouth, the signature of the water madness. Brug was standing ten feet away, her eyes wide and frightened. Near the wall the girl's mother and the other women were standing huddled. Ciara heard a gasp behind her and glanced to see Him staring at the girl in equally wide eyed terror.

"What is wrong with her?"

"I told you, she's very sick."

"Are you sure it's safe to touch her?"

"Yes, Vay cannot contract the water madness, and it's only spread to humans through fluids."

"Fluids?"

Ciara suppressed a surge of irritation. She didn't have time for this. "Like saliva and blood. The most common method of transmission is animal bites. Dogs and bats."

She turned away from him before he could say anything else and walked over to Brug.

"Can you hold her down for me or should I get some orcs?"

Brug straightened, gathering her courage, "No, no I can do it, boss."

Brug walked up to the girl and ran a hand across her forehead, a comforting gesture. The only response from the girl was a drawn out moan. Then Brug pinned the girl by her shoulders. The girl's legs thrashed and Ciara hesitated, then turned to Him.

"Could you hold her legs, please?" she asked.

He nodded and moved to do it without a word. When the girl was secure Ciara knelt by her. The poor child's eyes were moving wildly between the three Vay looming over her and she began to cry in a series of broken, wailing shouts.

Ciara knelt by the bed, put her hands to the girl's temples, and began to Sing.

The Song of Life revealed the girl's body to her and Ciara fought revulsion. There was actually less red and orange compared to many other diseases. The girl's body remained mostly outlined in the cool silvery light of a healthy person, but that light strobed and sparked, with mad striations and chaotic waves, as if the girl's very essence was being shaken apart. She looked like a sea churned by a terrible storm. The only red was in her brain, a faint pinkish cast shining from her head, and in small threads of red traveling down her limbs. But even the slightest bit of blight to the brain was lethal. Ciara took stock of the toll of the water madness and then began her hymn of restoration. She infused the girl's body with her strength and durability. Soothed the storm waves wracking her body.

As she sang she couldn't hear the water madness, but she could sense its presence. It was totally different from the rot in Landi's infected wound from earlier. This disease was cold, quiet, and alien. She sensed none of the hunger or rage of Landi's infection, this was something even more basic than that. It felt like a simple statement of fact, that the water madness existed and would continue to exist, and the fact that existence meant death was irrelevant. Life and death meant nothing to that alien presence, only the need to continue.

Ciara sang and sang, the magic pouring out of her, and the calm hum of the water madness's insistence it existed contended with her. Gradually the girl's aura calmed and the blush infesting her brain faded, although it didn't disappear. Ciara could feel her Song drawing from her, eating away at the store of energy she had gained from food and rest. She stopped her song earlier than she wanted to, earlier than she needed to, because she didn't trust herself to know her limits. She drew down the song, allowing it to fade away into echoes and whispers.

When the silvery light of the Song's vision faded she saw the girl had calmed. Her color was better and she was looking at Ciara, exhausted but lucid.

"Who are you?" she asked.

Ciara resisted the urge to touch her cheek.

"My name is Ciara. I'm helping you get better."

"Thank you."

"Of course. Your mother's right over here, let me get her for you."

Ciara stood slowly in case she stumbled, and Brug was next to her, ready to prop her up. But she felt no weakness. It seemed she was fine for now. She gave the thraka a reassuring smile and she backed away. Ciara turned to the girl's mother.

"You can come speak to her."

The women rushed forward and knelt by the girl. Her mother threw her arms around her daughter in a fierce embrace. Ciara turned to Brug.

"Could you ask for water for the girl and tea for me?"

Brug nodded, then hesitated a moment before speaking, "That was good, boss."

She suppressed a surge of triumph and gave the thraka a nod. As the thraka left the room Ciara walked to her desk and just sat for a moment, gathering herself, before trying to dig up a human medical textbook that had an entry for the water madness. It wasn't really going to be useful right now, she already knew everything she needed to about the disease, but it gave her something to focus on and ignore the dread pulsing in her chest.

Ciara looked up from the book to take in the room. The two women were still hugging the girl and crying. The girl was stroking her mothers head, looking confused. Then she saw that He was staring at her with a look of awe on his face. She looked away quickly. She knew he was going to be a distraction.

At that moment Brug and Hamenel came back into the room. Hamenel was carrying tea on a tray and Brug had a pitcher of water. Hamenel handed her the tea. Ciara took a sip, placed the mug on the table, then walked over to the women.

As the approached the women got up, the mother grabbed Ciara's hands and squeezed painfully hard

"Bless you, may the Brightmother bless you and forgive you."

Ciara smiled at the woman; it felt painful.

"We need to get her to drink water," she said, "and my cook is making her soup. She needs to regain her strength."

The woman nodded quickly and took the cup Brug handed her. The girl protested at first, the terror of the water madness was still affecting her, but under the mother's careful cajoling she eventually took a sip. When there was no pain the girl began to gulp the water greedily.

"That was extraordinary," He said.

She turned to him and found he had walked up to her while she was distracted by the women. Now that she wasn't focused on healing the girl his presence was painful. It felt like standing too close to a fire, at the point here the heat became unpleasant. She resisted the urge to flinch away from him.

"You saved that girl's life. Does... does that happen often to humans?"

Ciara suppressed a surge of irritation. The ignorance of Vay about the humans around them was a source of constant frustration but she knew it wasn't his fault.

"Quite often, yes, but it isn't over yet."

"What do you mean?"

She looked around, she really didn't want to have this conversation more than once. She looked at the women and saw the girl had drunk as much as she could right now and was laying back, exhausted. Ciara got up and moved quickly past him, approaching the two women.

"I need to speak to you."

They rose, "Of course, Vayné."

She led them away from their daughter, who was greedily eating Gladil's delicious soup. When they were at her desk she gestured Hamenel over.

"Can you translate for Him?" She asked in senyaran. She didn't want Him to know she didn't like saying his name. Hamenel nodded and then Ciara turned back to the women.

"What are your names?" Asked Ciara.

"Oh goddess, I never said. I'm sorry," said the girl's mother.

"That's alright,"

"I am Demiel, and this is my sister, Sada."

Ciara nodded, and hesitated for a moment, "And your daughter's name?"

She didn't actually want to know, if she knew her name it would make it harder, but she knew she had to ask.

"Lai."

Ciara nodded, "I know Lai seems cured, but the treatment has only pushed back the disease. It will return."

Demiel's hands went to her mouth, Sada tightened her jaw.

"How long does she have?" Asked Sada.

"In an hour she'll experience the early stages again. You thought it was the flu at first?"

They nodded.

"In two hours she will be back to how she was when she came in. To cure her permanently I'll have to repeat the treatment... at least six times today."

She heard Him gasp in the background.

"But you can cure her?" Asked Sada quickly.

Ciara hesitated, weighing how much to tell them. Then decided they needed to know the truth.

"Diseases vary in how dangerous they are," she said, "I'm sure you've gotten a cold or a cough or even the flu and recovered on your own a few times."

They nodded.

"And the more dangerous... the deadlier a disease is, the harder it is to cure with my magic. I could cure a cold with a single treatment. The flu with two. The water madness is one of the deadliest diseases a human can contract. I'm sure... Mama Nesta? Mama Nesta told you no human survives it."

Demiel closed her eyes and nodded.

"I know to you it doesn't look like I did much when I healed Lai, but the magic I used is taxing. Each time I use it I need to eat well and rest to regain the strength to use it again. And I won't have time to fully recover between your daughter's treatments. I have cured the water madness once before, but it took all my strength and... I am not at my full strength. I had a difficult case yesterday and the day before that. It is possible my strength will give out before I am able to defeat the disease."

Demiel's face scrunched up, hysterical weeping threading to boil over, but Sada squeezed her arm and whispered in her ear.

"You need to be strong, for once in your life be strong for us."

It seemed harsh to Ciara but Demiel took a breath and calmed. Ciara took the woman's hand.

"I swear to you on the Brightmother I will do everything in my power to save her. I won't stop until my own body gives out. Until I can't go on."

"Thank you Vayné."

Ciara nodded, "Now, we need to do everything we can to improve the chances of success. I'm having my cook make a great deal of food for both me and your daughter. Between treatments your daughter needs to eat and rest as much as possible, to give her the strength to help fight the disease. I am also going to eat and rest between treatments, to try and recover as much as possible for the next treatment. I know it will be difficult but you should take turns resting and tending to your daughter, keeping her calm and relaxed. You need to be strong for her too. I'll have my maid prepare a bed for you."

They nodded and then turned away from her, the two sisters began having an intense whispered conversation. Ciara turned to Hamenel.

"Would you see about a bed for them?"

Hamenel glared at her and Ciara returned it.

"Vayné," He said.

She turned to Him. He looked nervous but resolute.

"I'm not comfortable with you treating this girl. You could harm yourself."

Anger surged, hot and bright. She straightened, her voice taking on the cold ring of authority.

"It's not your place to tell me how to practice my craft."

"It's my responsibility to protect you. I won't let you come to harm."

Ciara ground her teeth but she kept her tone even, "If you feel it's unsafe for me to treat the girl I will bow to your command," she said. He winced at the word command, "But I would ask you to be the one to inform them. Hamenel can translate for you."

He looked at Hamenel, who gave Him a pained look in return, then He looked at the two women, gathering their strength for the ordeal ahead, clinging to the desperate hope Ciara was offering, then to the girl, who looked angelic as she slept peacefully, then he sighed and slumped.

"Please, just be careful, Vayné. If you were to harm yourself I would be very... very upset."

She looked away from him, pushing down an upwelling of... something she couldn't put a name to. Whatever it was, she didn't have time for it right now.

"I will take every precaution. Starting now. I'm going to go back to bed," said Ciara. She looked to Hamenel.

"You will wake me in exactly one hour. Not one minute more," she said. The icy ring of command was still in her voice. She rarely used that tone with Hamenel.

"Yes, Vayné," said Hamenel, her voice equally icy.

Suddenly Ciara didn't want to talk to them anymore. She couldn't take their concern one moment longer. They were all cowards. They tried to push her to be the one to give up, to let nature take its course, but she was the one that would have to shoulder the burden of that failure, the pain of knowing she could have done something and chose not to. She turned away from them both, Hamenel's angry glare and His frustrated concern, and left her lab without another word. She marched up the stairs and back through his room, ignoring the large four poster bed that by all rights she should be sharing with Him, and went back to her room. Despite her anger and fear she was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

...

The next treatment went fine. Hamenel woke her in an hour, as ordered, and handed her a bowl of Gladil's delicious chicken soup. She even took a moment to wash up before making her way to her lab. Lai was feverish and sweating but she smiled as Ciara entered and looked eager and hopeful, maybe even a little worshipful. Demiel held her daughter's hand as Ciara put her hands to her temples once again and began her Song. When she was done, Lai's fever was gone and she devoured a bowl of soup and drank a pitcher of water. Ciara tried Gladil's attempt at making pit mushrooms palatable and was impressed. The cook had prepared them in a thick gravy of beef fat and salt, with the same carrots, celery and potatoes as the chicken soup. The gravy masked the taste of the mushrooms and Ciara had no trouble eating it. The aftertaste was still vile but Brug had apparently run out and bought an entire cask of cider while she had been asleep, and it washed the taste away handily.

He was there too. He had ordered Hamenel to wake him at the same time as Ciara. He didn't try to speak to her, just watched quietly. She appreciated that he stayed out of her way but she knew he was there to watch for any sign of weakness. If her strength gave out he would swoop in and forbid her from continuing the treatments. Ciara ignored him, refusing to let him scare her. She took her fear and used it to fuel her determination. She wouldn't fail this girl and she wouldn't fail herself. She wouldn't let all of her sacrifices count for nothing.

Each time she sang over Lai the non-song of the water madness hummed in her ears, a counterpoint to her melody. An alien, unwavering insistence that it should continue to exist and that the girl's life didn't matter. Ciara had never seen the Enemy, the ancient, terrible foe of the Vay that lived far to the East, beyond the Oases, in the dead, nameless city they had built when they still lived, but she knew they had a Song the Vay did not. It was Song of Unlife, the deathsong. The Enemy used their song to raise corpses to fight for them and blight the land as they marched. The deathsong was so abhorrent few vay could stand to hear it; most fled in terror at the noise. She knew the water madness wasn't singing the deathsong, she felt no terror hearing the whisper in her mind, but she wondered if it was a faint echo, a reflection of that unnatural melody. Perhaps the water madness, and the other diseases that sang that alien song, were a blight unleashed on the world by the Enemy, or a consequence of their existence.

By the third treatment the exhaustion began to set in. It was just normal weariness, the tiredness she felt after a normal day at work, but she knew next time would be worse. She told Hamenel to let her sleep longer. It was taking more time for Lai's symptoms to return as they beat back the disease and it gave her more time to rest, but it wasn't enough. The fourth time she stumbled a little as she stood. He started for her but jerked back when she gave him a glare of pure fury. Sata looked at her grimly and her reassurances didn't change the look of despair on Demiel's face.

The fifth time she sang, contended with the water madness, she stumbled and fell as she tried to stand. Sada cried out in alarm and Demiel started to weep, knowing Ciara's collapse heralded her daughter's death. He caught her, arm going around her, and lifted her into His arms. She put her arm around His neck and snuggled into His chest as He carried her to her room. He gave off no Allure and if he had it would have meant nothing to her. She was beyond caring what was between them. He placed her in bed and brought another bowl of Gladil's mushroom stew. She ate mechanically while he sat in a chair next to her, Not even tasting the foulness of the mushrooms. It was all ashes in her mouth. When she was done he took the tray from her and set it on the ground.

"You have to wake me," she said.

He paused a moment and sighed before turning back to her.

"I don't think that's wise," He said.

"No, you have to. Just one more. That's all she needs, one more," Ciara thought it might take two, but she refused to say it, or even think it, "You have to let me try. Please, just let me try."

He looked at her for a long moment and then nodded.

"Alright, one more."

"Thank you, thank you. I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I'm so sorry. For us, for everything. I just... I just wanted to help them," She found that tears were leaking down her face. He leaned down and gave her a very gentle kiss, but her skin didn't tingle at all from the touch of Allure. He meant it as comfort and nothing more.

"It's alright," he said, "We can talk about it later. Just rest now. Rest and you can save her when you wake up."

"Alright, alright. Thank you."

She closed her eyes, feeling an impossible weight settle on her, crushing her into the mattress like an avalanche. She felt like she was sinking into an abyss, the lightless depths of the deepest ocean. Her final thought was to wonder if He would be there when she awoke.

...

Ciara knelt in front of Lai, her mother and aunt sitting next to her. Everyone was there, Lum and Brug and Hamenel and Him, most of all Him. They were all there to support her, to witness her failure. She had been able to sleep for three hours this time. It had taken that long for Lai's fever to come back, but she knew she wasn't recovered. She was awake and alert, her head clear, but the weariness was sunk into her muscles and bones. She felt brittle, like a breeze would toss her over. But she didn't let it show. She remained calm and resolute. Lai's fever was back but the girl was happy, smiling at Ciara, confident she would be saved. Ciara forced herself to smile back.

Ciara closed her eyes and began to sing.

Lai's body was revealed to her and she saw how close she was. The silvery light of her essence was almost calm. There was only the faintest shadow of blight in the corners of her brain, scattered pockets of the disease hiding in the folds of her mind. Ciara started to sing, giving Lai the strength to banish them once and for all.

After a moment the song began to falter. The chords and refrain becoming tangles, hitches and skips disrupting the melody. Ciara felt her throat closing up, her body refusing to give any more of itself. She desperately threw herself into the song, but it was slipping away. She knew if she pushed any more she would pass out. By the time she regained consciousness the water madness would have recovered and regrown. She'd have to start all over again and He wouldn't let her, and worst of all she would let him stop her. She wouldn't have the strength or confidence to try again.

Just before her hope and her voice faded completely, a pair of hands covered hers and His voice joined hers in the song. He sang in strong clear tenor, resonating with strength and courage. It was the Song of Life but not as she had ever heard it before. Her singing no longer required effort, she didn't have to give any of herself. He gave her all his strength and let her use it as she wished. She spun his song into hers, creating the harmony and counterplay of a perfect duet and poured life into Lai. Ciara marveled at his strength; he was an endless fountain of power. With his magic at her command she washed away the lifeless presence of the water madness and cleansed the girl, leaving her whole once again.

She let the song fade and he followed her lead, drawing down their duet. It echoed longer than normal, magic filling the space between them as if the song was sad to leave them. And then at last everything was still.

Ciara fell back, stunned. He... Ronan looked at her, a little pale, with olive bruises under his eyes. He gave her a shy smile and she couldn't help but smile back.

"Vayné, is.. Is it over?" asked Sata.

They were all looking at her. Even Lai, pale but healthy, and Ciara nodded.

"I'll need to check her in a few hours but... yes I believe it's over, the disease is gone."

Everyone was cheering, laughing and crying and embracing. Ciara took hugs from all three women and even hearty shoulder pat from Brug, but the whole time she was distracted by Ronan. She could sense the delight coming off him in waves. Of what they had done together.

Finally he interrupted, "And now my vay needs to go to bed. You're welcome to stay and rest if you wish and we can continue the celebration later, but my vay has overworked herself on your behalf and needs to recover."

"Of course, of course, thank you again, both of you. We owe you more than we can ever repay," said Bremiel.

Ciara nodded, embarrassed. Nothing matched the thrill she got out of saving a life but she never knew how to handle the praise that came with it.

"It was my pleasure. I can tell you have a lovely daughter, I'm so happy that she'll have the chance to grow up."

Hamenel stepped forward, "I'll see to them, Vayné, and I'll be up soon with breakfast."

"Is it morning?" asked Ciara, time had ceased to have meaning for her.

"Yes, a little past dawn."

Ciara started walking towards the stairs and stumbled a little. Her head felt clear but her legs were a little wobbly. Ronan was at her side in an instant, steadying her.

"I'm fine," she said.

"I know."

But he kept walking with her and she didn't have the willpower to tell him to leave her be.

He followed a little behind her, ready to catch her if he needed to and she started smelling the faint scent of his Allure. She couldn't stop herself from breathing it in. The rich, smoky scent stiffened her nipples and wetted her lips. They climbed the stairs and they were in his room. She came to a halt when she saw his bed. Their bed. It was large, plenty of room for both of them to lounge. It was made of dark wood with four carved posts. She felt him stop close behind her, too close, and she turned. He was looking at her with awe. She had seen that look on the girl's face and on the faces of other patients, but it was the first time she had seen it on the face of a savay. It was irresistible. His Allure washed over her, embracing her, luring her in.

"That was incredible. Every moment of it," He said, "you're incredible."

Then he leaned forward and kissed her and it felt so good. Her lips tingled at his touch and her face and chest flushed with warmth. Her arms went around him, tangling in his hair. It was thick and smooth between her fingers, just like in her dreams.

She felt him nudge her gently backwards, towards the bed. She took one step, then stiffened. She used a final burst of will to push him away. She pushed harder than she meant to and he stumbled backwards, looking shocked and outraged

"I'm sorry," she said, the words coming out too fast, tumbling in a mad rush, "I'm sorry. I can't. I just can't."

She turned and ran. Footsteps echoing down the hall as she ran desperately for her room. Then she slammed the door and threw herself on the bed. She burrowed under the covers, trying to shake off the effects of his Allure, the desperate need he brought out in her. The desire to haste his lips, feel him between her legs. The need was always there, humming in the back of her head, but now it was a desperate cry that was almost impossible to ignore.

She shed her clothes while she was under the covers and threw them against the wall. Then she buried herself, covering her head with the blankets. Under there she could pretend the world didn't exist, that her problems were happening to someone else. As she laid there in bed the exhaustion rushed in. Despite the stress of the last few minutes she was still exhausted. She didn't try to fight it, she closed her eyes and welcomed sleep. At least there she would have to face the mess she had made of her life.

...

Ciara awoke slowly. Her mouth was full of sand and her stomach was a pit. She hadn't eaten before she fell asleep and she was paying for it now. She rolled out of bed and found Hamenel had left a biscuit and a glass of water. The water was room temperature and the biscuit had gone slightly hard, but her need made them delicious. She put on her robe and rang the servants bell for Hamenel

She came a few minutes later, a try in hand with a steaming pile of eggs, bacon and two more fresh biscuits.

Ciara glanced out the window. It looked like early evening. She had slept a good eight hours

Hamenel saw her glance.

"Gladil was offended you didn't eat her breakfast so she remade it," she said.

Ciara laughed, "I do love breakfast."

She sat in her bed and ate, the eggs were perfect as always, delicious and fluffy. The bacon was dipped in maple syrup and the biscuits were warm and melted in her mouth. Even the orange juice was fresh squeezed. By the time she was done, Ciara felt Vay again.

Hamenel came in a few minutes after she finished to take the tray, but she didn't leave. Instead, the maid set it on the dresser and turned back to her.

"You need to talk to him."

Ciara hunched over, her good mood evaporating.

"I can't."

"You have to."

"No, I made him angry again. He kissed me and I pushed him away."

"Is that what happened? He's angry because doesnt know why you're doing this."

"He'll never understand."

"After last night I think he will."

Ciara curled up and hugged her knees. She couldn't believe how childish she was acting, how childish He was making her act. She could deal with a hundred patients on death's door and remain safe behind the facade of her craft, but when it came to her binding she felt like she was still sixteen. Hamenel saw her hesitation and took a step toward her.

"Maybe before you could have kept up this farce, but after last night he won't accept it. You made him fall in love with you and he's not going to be satisfied with the way things are."

"I didn't make him fall in love with me."

Hamenel made a sound of disgust. Then she visibly got a hold of herself and sat on the bed.

"You are one of the strongest vay... strongest people I have ever known. You defied your parents to help the desperate and needy, you face death every day. You can talk to him."

Ciara looked away and took a sharp breath. She knew Hamenel was right. And in the end her pride overcame her fear. She needed to be the vay Hamenel thought she was.

"Alright. Goddess, alright," said Ciara. She sighed then looked at her maid.

"If I am strong it's because you made me so," said Ciara.

"I'll take some credit, but you gave me plenty to work with," said Hamenel.

Ciara laughed and held her arms out. Hamenel's hug was as warm and comforting as it always was. She hadn't embraced her maid often since she came of age, but the rare occasions when she did brought back memories of a childhood, moments of comfort when the world became too much and shared joy at life's possibilities. Ciara gathered strength from her embrace and for just a moment she wasn't afraid.

Then Hamenel helped her dress. She dressed as if she was going out to see patients, in a brown slacks and a white blouse with a flower pattern along the bust and the sleeves. She had Hamenel do up her hair though, in a complicated braid with gold chains woven into it. When she was ready she asked Hamenel to request that He meet her in an hour in her lab. She wanted to meet him on her own ground, she hoped it would make her feel more confident. When she reached her lab she realized she had made a mistake, it was still a mess. She started cleaning desperately, trying to organize her books and her papers and ended up shoving way too many things into a closet. By the time she was done stray locks of hair had escaped her braid and her armpits were damp with sweat. She asked Hamenel for an emergency hair repair and tea and a sandwich to help calm her.

She heard his footsteps and that he was there, exactly on time. He had dressed up too, in that black shirt and slacks that looked so good on him. She could tell he was still angry, his face was stiff and his nostrils flared when he saw her. She had played this conversation over in her head dozens of times and she prayed it went better than it did in her head.

"Vayné," he said, his voice cold and distant, "I trust you are..."

She got up and got on her knees in front of him. She put her forehead to the floor and stretched her hands straight out towards him. A sign of deep shame, of surrender.

"What are you doing? Get up!" He said. His voice high with panic.

She got up smoothly, trying to hide her embarrassment. Even though her submission was more of a dramatic gesture, it wasn't something a Vay did lightly. Especially a vay to a savay.

"My Sa'vay, I beg your forgiveness. I have treated you very badly and I'd like to make amends. I want to... to offer an explanation."

"I... yes, please. I mean thank you," He said, still flustered by her gesture, which was what she was hoping for.

"Will you sit?" she asked.

"Yes, of course."

Ciara went to the chair at her desk and sat. He joined her, sitting only a few feet apart. It felt strange to be so close to him after so long.

"Would you like tea?" asked Ciara.

"Oh, maybe later, thank you."

She opened her mouth to begin her prepared speech, the one she had rehearsed a dozen times in her head, and found it was stuck in her throat. She closed her eyes and tried to get anything out.

"I'm sorry about last night," she said finally.

"Please, don't apologize. It was my fault. You were exhausted and you have made your feelings very clear. I forgot myself. I apologize to you."

Ciara smiled at the earnestness in his voice.

"We can agree to apologize to each other then. And I apologize about the last month. I've been a coward."

"After last night I know that's not true."

"You can be brave about some things and an utter coward about others," said Ciara, she took a breath.

"This isn't about you. I want you to understand that. I admit at first, your fathers reputation frightened me. But it just exacerbated fears that I already had."

"I understand. You're not the first vay to judge me by my father."

"And I'm sorry for that. But everyone in our household speaks so highly of you. Hamenel and Brug both encouraged me to speak to you but... I was afraid."

Now he looked angry, "I understand your reluctance."

"You do?"

"Yes. I know more and more vay no longer wish to be bound to a savay, to focus on their craft. If that is your wish I understand. If we are to be bound together for this alliance I just wish you had given me the chance to change your mind. I know it's arrogant of me to think I could overcome your aversion to being bound, but... I'd have liked the opportunity to try."

Ciara finally understood what he was saying. It made sense that he would make that assumption, it was the most reasonable explanation for how she had acted.

"I don't have any objection to being bound to a savay."

He blinked in surprise, "You don't?"

"No. No, that isn't the problem... my problem is..." she swallowed, the words were sticking in her throat.

"I can't whelp."

"You're a thraka?" He asked, shocked.

"No!" She almost shouted it, and hated herself for her outrage. The first savay she had confessed to had called her a thraka and that pain had lingered for years. Her time with Brug had taught her being called a thraka shouldn't be the insult every vay treated it as, but she still felt that old hurt.

"I can whelp. I just... I choose not to. I refuse. I will not do it!" Her voice rose to almost a shout.

"Why?" He asked, and she heard the anger in his voice, saw the word on his lips. Cailleach, hag.

"Please. Please just listen to me. What happened last night is rare, but it does happen. Once or twice a year I have to take on a case that stretches me to my absolute limit. If I had spent myself like that while carrying a litter, I would have miscarried."

"Miscarried?"

"My whelps would have died. My body wouldn't have had the strength to sustain them."

"I've never heard of that happening before," said Ronan, "That doesn't sound possible. Are you sure?"

"I'm absolutely sure," she said, keeping her voice calm and level.

It took him a moment to understand. He teared up and gave her a look of such pity she felt tears fighting their way out of her as well. She pushed her chair back and balled a fist. She would not cry right now.

"No! No, I don't want your pity. Please. I just want... I want your understanding. I want you to respect my choice."

Ronan looked away from her. She could see him fighting through his instinctive anger. He ground his teeth then blew out a breath.

"I think I do understand," he said.

She felt the first faint stirrings of hope.

"And.... you were right to keep this from me. If you had told me this on our binding night I would have marched back to your family and demanded another vay. If you had told me two days ago I would have unbound you. An unbound vay may whelp as she pleases, but a bound vay that thinks her craft is more important than her duty to her house, to her sept... I would have thought you were a callieach.

Ciara nodded as he said her worst fears back to her.

"But after last night... it's not even about the fear of losing a litter, is it? At least not just that. It's about being forced to make the choice. The woman in front of you or our whelps."

Ciara couldn't stop the tears this time. She nodded quickly, "Goddess, yes that's exactly it. The first time I didn't know. But now, I... I can't be in that position. I would rather die."

Ronan ran a hand over his face, "God, what a fucking mess."

She laughed explosively at the sudden profanity and the familiar tone. She didn't even mind him invoking the Giftgiver. She had always thought the god would find her torment vastly amusing.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I shouldn't have put you in this situation. I should never have agreed to be bound to you. But if I had refused my father would have unbound my mother. She had such high hopes for me and I've failed over and over again. I couldn't ruin her life completely."

"I don't see how you can call what you did last night a failure."

"The blue skinned daughter of Old Morgan? My mother dreamed of me being head housevay to a great sept and I ruined it. I ruined everything."

"With your... miscarriage?"

Ciara closed her eyes at the pain of the old memory.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"No, it's alright. You deserve an explanation," said Ciara, steadying herself, "Yes... yes my first litter was... I had been promised to Aidan Callek."

Ronan's eyes widened, "The heir to Callek?"

Ciara nodded. Callek was the largest, wealthiest, most powerful sept in the Brightlands. They held as much land as Mordha and the Cam'Teren put together.

"He was handsome and kind and... I was young and I was reading many human romances and... I thought I was in love."

Ronan raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"But then there was an outbreak of smallpox in Aontrim. It's a terrible disease. Not as deadly as the water madness, I can cure it with only two or three treatments, but it can spread through the air. A human with smallpox can spread it by coughing or sneezing near another human."

Ronan gasped, "That's horrifying."

Ciara nodded. "I fought it for a week. For each person I cured, two more took their place. After a week I had managed to contain the outbreak but I was utterly spent. I was bedridden for three days. I had been carrying Aiden's litter when the outbreak started and by the time I recovered, I..." she looked away.

"He didn't take it well?" Asked Ronan, trying to move on.

"No, no he did not. My parents covered it up, they gave me the whelps from one of the kitchen girls and told me to never tell anyone. I knew they were right but I was hurting. I was in pain so I went to Aidan for comfort. I told him the truth and... he didn't tell anyone else. He thought it would be almost as embarrassing for him as for me. But the binding was called off. No one knew why but they assumed something was wrong with me. I was damaged goods and I did nothing to stop the rumors. My parents gave up on me. They left me to my craft and my mother moved on to my younger sister.

"I made my peace with being unbound. But when our fathers sought an alliance, my mother came to me and told me this was a way to redeem myself. Your father didn't know or didn't care about my failed binding. I could finally secure the alliance my parents always wished me to. If I let myself be bound to you it would secure my mother's position in the sept for the rest of her life."

"That wasn't fair to you."

Ciara shook her head, "I still have a duty to my sept and my mother."

"I certainly can understand that," said Ronan, he hesitated and started blushing, "You said you were originally a scholar. It seems like... your original craft would have caused you less trouble."

Ciara understood Ronan's hesitation. It was considered very rude to question a vay's choice of craft. But Ciara wasn't offended. It was a good question.

"I didn't know how much trouble it would be. I just sort of fell into it. When I was still training to be a scholar I came across references to plagues during my research and I became fascinated by them. It seemed so strange to me."

"Plagues?"

"In the past, there were outbreaks of disease that killed huge numbers of humans at once. Some of them killed as much as a third of the human population."

"That can't be true."

"I didn't believe it either. But I did more research and I realized this used to happen all the time. Humans are plagued by an endless variety of diseases. Vay are only susceptible to two and we've mostly eradicated them, but I can name a score of human diseases off the top of my head, and there are a dozen more obscure ones and even ones that don't have names."

"That doesn't make any sense," said Ronan, "Why would the Allfather design humans that way? Why would he kill his own worshippers?"

"You know why. It's in the song of the gods. 'I shall wrack my children with storm and fire and plague. They will beg me for salvation, and their cries will be food on my heavenly table.'"

"I... I guess I never really understood it, the extent of it."

"I know. I didn't either, but once I knew I saw it everywhere. Humans are always coughing and sniffling, they get these terrible stomach pains. They always have bandages and scars. The signs of the Allfather's scourge is everywhere. I started reading human medical texts and... it was fascinating. Each of my cases is a puzzle with my patient's life as the prize. The thrill of saving a life, when I defeat a disease with the power of my song... scholarship just can't compare to that."

"I... can understand that too," said Ronan, "Savay don't have crafts but... mastering the Fellsong and fighting for my sept fills the same role for me. I haven't fought many times, but when I have the thrill I get from victory, from using my skill with the Song to defeat my enemies. I wouldn't want to give that up."

Ciara blinked. The idea that her craft had any relation to the endless wars of the savay seemed ridiculous at first glance, but the glint in Ronan's eyes when he talked about victory was very familiar. She saw it in her own eyes whenever she looked in the mirror after finished with a patient.

"What do we do now?" asked Ronan.

"I don't know. I don't know what we can do differently."

Ronan took a big breath and let it out.

"I don't want to go back to what we had before. Not after tonight. Not after this."

"I don't either."

"But it is... hard. To have you be so close and not be able to... to touch you."

"I know," said Ciara, "when I first saw you at the binding ceremony I was terrified. You were so handsome and I knew it would make it so hard to resist your Allure. This would be so much easier if you weren't handsome."

"Sorry."

Ciara had to laugh.

They were quiet for a second, Ciara took a shaky sip of her tea.

"Maybe we can... try to be friends?" Asked Ronan.

Ciara made a small laugh, "Friends?"

"Or at least.... Have breakfast together, before we go about our day. We can talk. We can start there and... see what happens."

Ciara smiled, "I'd like that."

...

Ciara Cam'Teren opened her eyes at the sound of her maid's footsteps.

"Breakfast," said Hamenel.

There was giddiness in her voice Ciara hadn't heard before. Ciara smiled at the tone, then winced. Her mouth was dry, her stomach was hollow, and a headache was a looming threat. She didn't know how this kept happening to her. Hamenel put the tray down in front of her. Some simple porridge and, and orange juice. Ciara looked up at her maid, confused.

"I'm going to need more than that."

"Sa'vay Ronan wanted to know if you would care to have brunch in the sun room. I thought it was a wonderful idea," said Hamenel, still sounding giddy.

"So if I don't brunch with him I don't get to eat?"

Hamenl gave her a long-suffering look, "I didn't want you to ruin your appetite."

Ciara snorted at Hamenel's eagerness to push her into Ronan's arms. Not that she could blame her maid, or minded really. But she was still recovering and would rather get to know him with a little more food in her stomach. But she had a feeling more food wasn't on offer, so she ate her porridge quickly, drank her orange juice, which did a good job of chasing away her headache, and let Hamenel dress her quickly in a morning robe.

Ronan stood quickly as she entered the sun room. He had dressed up again, in a nice brown shirt and black slacks. He was lit by the sunlight streaming in through the sunroom's skylights. Most of the walls were glass, with a pair of glass doors leading out to a walled garden. It was a pleasant view and one Ciara hadn't been able to take advantage of until now.

"Thank you for joining me, Vayné Ciara," said Ronan.

"Just Ciara."

"Ciara," said Ronan. He sounded as giddy as Hamenel and it made her smile.

"Please, sit," He said.

She sat with him at a round stone table with metal legs in wicker chairs with nice comfortable visions. The brunch was a much heartier affair than her so-called breakfast, with eggs, biscuits, a well-made fruit bowl, and even a small steak for each of them. They began to eat quietly together. Enjoying the sun and each other's presence. Ciara took a moment to take in the view, both of the garden and him, and marveled at how natural it felt.

After a few minutes eating, the question she had from last night came back to her and she couldn't wait any longer before asking.

"We never had the chance to talk yesterday about your singing."

Ronan looked uncomfortable.

"Yes, it's not something I like to talk about. My mother was a healer. She was very skilled at the song of life. I inherited her ability and she taught me."

"I didn't know savay could even learn the Song of Life," said Ciara.

"It is rare. And those that can keep it a secret. It's not... the kind of thing you want to get around to other savay. It's vay magic, after all."

Ciara rolled her eyes, "Savay are so absurd sometimes. I think it must be jealousy."

"I'd like to think so," said Ronan. He hesitated a moment, "If... you ever need my help again, with your craft, I'd be willing, if we could keep it a secret. I can see why you're drawn to it."

"So you'd be my assistant?" asked Ciara.

Roan blushed and looked uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't tease. I would love to. Singing with you was... enjoyable."

Ronan smiled at that. She caught the faintest hint of his Allure and she cleared her throat. He looked abashed.

"Sorry," he said.

"It's alright," said Ciara, but she was starting to worry. This might be harder than she had thought.

They ate quietly for a few minutes, trying to get past the tension of their first exchange.

"Oh I meant to ask you. So the girl caught her disease from a dog?" Asked Ronan.

"Yes. It's most often spread through animal bites. Though not rats, thankfully," said Ciara.

"You know, I've noticed there are more feral dogs around these days. I've heard there are whole packs in the abandoned parts of the city."

Ciara nodded, "I've heard the same. If the water madness begins spreading among them it could get very bad."

"I was thinking of talking to my father about dealing with them. We don't want packs of dogs running around biting our women and giving them this disease."

"No, no that would not be ideal," said Ciara, "There are a lot of improvements your father could make to governing his city."

"Oh?" asked Ronan

"Yes, your father, he treats the neighborhoods of the city the same way Vay treat land in the country. He gives control of neighborhoods to savay in return for the promise of orcs when he needs to fight. But that doesn't really work for a city, the neighborhoods are all too connected so sanitation is a real problem, which is why we have these packs of wild dogs. And some of the savay your father has bound aren't the... most reliable. That's why I need Brug and Lum as an escort; many neighborhoods aren't safe."

"That does sound like a problem. How does your father run his city?"

"Oh he..." Ciara racked her brain, trying to remember when her parents discussed governing Aontrim "... I know he divides the city into larger burroughs and he has older, more reliable savay overseeing each one. That way they can coordinate on things that effect multiple neighborhoods and keep any unscrupulous savay in line."

"That makes a lot of sense to me. I have the feeling my da... father won't make that many changes. I think he runs the city this way because he wants a lot of savay on hand if he needs to fight, but I like the idea of burrough leaders. It seems like the city could use a little more oversight."

Ciara nodded, a little shocked a casual conversation over brunch might lead to improvements in how the city was governed.

Hamenel came to refill theri orange juice, "Vayné, Sa'vay. Lai wishes to speak with you."

Ciara and Ronan looked at each other, then Ronan shrugged.

"Sure, send her in," he said.

Hamenel returned with Lai and her family a few moments later. Lai was still pale, she had the washed out look of someone getting over an illness, but she was alive, wonderfully alive.

When Lai reached them she did a deep bow. Ciara returned it with a nod.

"And how are you feeling today?" She asked.

"Tired, but much better, Vayné. My mom told me what happened. That I would be dead if not for you and Sa'vay Ronan."

"It was my pleasure to help," said Ciara. She felt a thrill to hear Lai acknowledge the truth.

"Thank you. I was talking to my mom about... about paying you back. We don't have much. We clean house and do laundry for Vayné Clodagh, but even if we had something to give, I could never repay you for what you did. I wanted to know... if you'd let me serve you. You gave me my life and I think it will take my whole life to pay you back."

"Oh you don't need to do that, sweetheart. Whatever you can pay will be fine, and we can speak to Vayné Clodagh. I'm sure she'll be willing to settle accounts on your behalf."

"She would, Vayne, but I don't want to ask that of her and... and I want to serve here. I can't heal people like you, but if I'm serving you it's like... I'm helping you help everyone."

Lai's eyes went back and forth between Ciara and Ronan and she blushed.

Ciara looked to Ronan, who had a small half smile.

"It's fine with me," he said. "We could use more help. Would we need to settle things with Vayne Clodagh?"

"I think she'll agree," said Bemiel, "although she may appreciate a visit from you, Sa'vay Ronan, if you'd be willing."

"I'd be happy to do so," said Ronan. "Welcome to my house, Lai."

Lai looked straight at Ronan for the first time. Her blush deepened and she looked away. Ciara suspected Lai might have an ulterior motive for asking to join her house. It was still a few years before Lai would come of age, but she was old enough to be thinking about savay.

"Thank you, Sa'vay," said Lai in a whisper as she backed away.

Ciara looked back to Ronan. He had a faint smirk on his face. Ciara shook her head at him slightly and Ronan gave her an innocent look. Then Hamenel approached and murmured to the three women, leading Lai and her family away so the Sa'vay and Vayné could enjoy their breakfast.

"Does that happen a lot?" asked Ronan.

"On occasion. Last night was particularly dramatic. When I was in my father's house there was less need for new servants. Or prompt payment."

"That is true. I'm hoping we'll be a little more secure soon. I know our sept's alliance is part of some larger plan between our fathers. Whatever it is, I'm hoping it will give us the wealth we need to be more comfortable."

Ciara didn't like the sound of that. Her father had spent most of her life in comfortable retirement, only stirring himself to chase the pirates that harassed trade on the Sea of Joy and the Beats river, but she knew he was still a fearsome war leader. Many vay encouraged their savay to raid and go to war, because they enjoyed the wealth it brought their house, but Ciara had read too much of war and seen too much suffering to ever want to add more to the world. She would be happy with what they had if they could live peacefully. But things were still tense with her new savay and she didn't want to add another conflict, so she just nodded quietly as they finished their meal. When they were done Hamenel brought tea and they sipped quietly together. Ciara couldn't remember the last time she had been this relaxed. When they were done with their tea Ronan stretched.

"I was planning on visiting my father today, I'm sure Hamenel mentioned Deidre will be arriving next week?"

Ciara nodded.

I was thinking of riding out to escort her back here. Originally it was... more to get out of the house, but I think it would still be a nice gesture." said Ronan, "... although now I'm less certain. I hate to be parted from you so soon after... reaching an understanding."

"It's alright," said Ciara, "I think you're right. It would be a nice gesture, and we'll have plenty of time to get to know each other when you return."

Ronan nodded, "Alright, then. I'll tell my father I plan to head west to escort Deidre back here.

Suddenly Ronan's Allure washed over Ciara in a big wave. She wasn't expecting it and she straightened and gasped, which drew more of his musky scent into her nose. Her nipples stiffened and her belly flexed. Her face heated and she unconsciously leaned towards him. Ronan saw her move and his mouth dropped open. He leaned towards her.

"Goddess, you're so beautiful," he said, his voice low and rough.

He actually got out of his chair and leaned across the table. His lips met Ciara's and her face broke out in pins and needles from their touch.

Suddenly a glass tapped over and spilled water across the table. The water washed across her hand and broke the spell. She threw herself backwards and backed away, all the way to the glass doors.

Ronan looked stricken, "I'm sorry."

Ciara took a shuddering breath, "It's alright."

"You just looked so pretty in the sunlight."

She couldn't help herself from smiling, "You look very nice too. It's very hard to keep my hands off of you."

Ronan visibly ground his teeth, "I see why you kept so far away from me. Maybe... maybe this isn't going to work."

Ciara wanted to comfort him, she hated seeing him so upset. But she was worried any attempt at comfort might get out of control, and that only added to her frustration.

"Maybe not," she said, anger in her voice, "I'm going to go to my lab."

"Ciara, wait..."

But Ciara was done with him for now. She didn't want to be near him anymore. She turned and walked quickly away, leaving him standing alone in the solar, lit by the afternoon sun.

Ciara spent the afternoon dithering away in her lab. She sang over her mushrooms, trying to coax different secretions from them, taking note of which melody resulted in which effect. She poured over human medical tests, looking for some hint of using mushrooms for medicinal purposes, but most entries on mushrooms were just about which ones were poisonous. She realized she wasn't really making any progress, that her mind wasn't in the right place for research today. She snuck back to her room. Ciara realized she was avoiding Him again and felt a fresh surge of despair. It seemed they were already sinking back into their old habits. Ciara ended up reading an old human romance, about two lovers placed under a curse by a witch, so that the woman turned into a swan when she came too close to her love. Ciara couldn't tell if it was a true story or not. Human magic was very different than the Songs and she wasn't clear what humans were capable of. Whether it was true or not, the story made Ciara feel better.

Just around the time she was thinking of going to be early there was a knock on the door.

"Who..."

The door flew open and Ronan rushed in. He had a big grin on his face and his eyes were a bit wild.

"Ronan? What is it?"

"I'm an idiot."

Ciara considered this.

"I hadn't noticed but I suppose it's possible."

Ronan laughed, "We're being ridiculous."

"What?"

"You can't lay with me because you can't... I mean you don't dare whelp, correct?"

"Yeeeesss?" Ciara didn't really appreciate the way he said it, but it was true.

"So why don't we just use the lifesong so that you won't whelp when we lay together?"

CIara stared at him a for a long minute, trying to decide how to let him down gently.

"Ronan... the lifesong can't do that."

"Sure it can," he said.

"No, no it can't. The lifesong can give life. It can't take it away."

Ronan gave her an awkward look, "But I've done it."

"What?"

"I've used the lifesong to stop a women from quickening. Well, sort of."

"What are you talking about?" Asked Ciara.

Suddenly he looked embarrassed, "Well... so you know how women take longer to quicken than vay? A week or two?"

Ciara clicked her tongue in annoyance, "Yes, Ronan, I know."

"Oh of course you do. So, well... sometimes I'll lay with a woman who's already been with another savay but hasn't quickened yet, and I figured out a tune I can use to... to clear out the other savay's seed to make sure the woman has my litter instead."

Ciara stared at Ronan, "That's the most savay thing I've ever heard."

Ronan laughed, "Of course. But you could use the tune on yourself. Vay quicken soon after laying with a savay but it's not immediate. It takes ten or twenty minutes. If you were to use the tune right after laying with me, you wouldn't whelp."

Ciara held up her hands, "Wait, sing me this tune."

"Right now?"

"Yes. I don't know it."

"I've never tried to sing without actually using the song I'm singing."

"It's a strange feeling but it's an important teaching tool."

"Right, okay let me just..."

Ronan closed his eyes and began to sing. Hearing the Song of Life coming from the mouth of a savay was still a very strange experience for Ciara. Ronan's clear tenor and echoed in the air, infused with the magic of the goddess.

The song itself was strange as well, not one she had ever heard before. It was very energetic for the Song of Life, with powerful reverbs and sliding scales. With a shock Ciara realized it had similarities to the Song of Wrath. It was still definitely the lifesong, she'd be able to sing it, but she could see why it wasn't known to her. It wasn't a song any healer would think to sing normally.

After a moment Ciara began to sing along with Ronan, matching tone and melody. It felt very strange at first, totally different from the songs she usually sang, but she had always been a fast learner and she was able to pick it up quickly.

After a few minutes of practice Ronan let the song fade away. She sang on her own for a few moments, just tom make sure she had the melody, then let the song go as well.

When the song faded away Ciara looked at Ronan, who looked back delighted

"You learned it so fast," said Ronan.

"I've always been a quick study. If you're right and the song works as intended, it could change..."

Ronan threw himself at her, his lips finding hers in a fierce, urgent kiss. Ciara stiffened as her lips lit with pleasure, Ronan's Allure sinking into her skin. Using the last reserves of her willpower she pulled away from him.

"Wait, wait...," she said, breathing hard, which was a mistake; the musky scent of the allure filled her nostrils, making her lightheaded, "We need to test it first."

"I know," said Ronan.

"No, no not on me. We need to..."

Ronan took her hands, rubbing his thumbs over her palms. Ciara felt the heat of his allure creep up her arms.

"It'll work. I promise you," he said, "Please, just trust me."

Ciara held out for another second, then leaned forward and kissed him. Her kisses we just as hungry and desperate as his, weeks of pent up frustration and denial bursting forth in a flood. Their hands explored each other, touching in ways they had only dreamed about and fantasized about while trying to fall asleep. Ciara explored her savay's strong, smooth back, his lithely muscled arms. She loved how it felt when she ran her fingers through his thick, messy hair.

She pulled away from him suddenly and shed her nightdress in one desperate motion. Ronan joined her, shedding shirt and pants, stripping himself with shocking speed. Ciara's underwear were stuck under her and she lifted her hips so Ronan could pull them off. They looked at each other for a long moment, then came together once more. Ronan lowered her gently onto the bed, the soft mattress pressing into her back. As he positioned himself she felt the hardness of his cock brushing against her and it sent fresh shocks through her body. Ciara opened her pussy lips wide in response, inviting him in. The feel of his cock sliding against her lips sent shocks of pleasure shooting through her and pulled a moan from her. It had been so long since she had been with a savay, she had forgotten how good it felt. Laying with vay and savay felt very different and each felt wonderful in their own way. Ciara had missed that sense of being filled. The solid, heavy feel of his cock sliding into her kindled pleasure deep in her body. It was sharper and more immediate than the feel of a vay's lips massaging hers.

Ronan paused and looked into her eyes, he looked so pleased she had to laugh.

"I've been dreaming about this," he said.

"Me too."

"It's been so long."

"I know. I know, but we're here now," said Ciara.

Ronan nodded and started to move, sliding in and out of her with smooth, even strokes. For the first few thrusts Ciara just laid there and enjoyed the feel of him, his cock sliding in and out of her, filling and emptying her only to fill her again, then she started to move in time with him, hips rising to meet him. As she did she massaged his cock with her lips, squeezing him each time he pulled out of her. The extra pressure of her lips made the pleasure even more intense. Ciara felt the slide of his cock over every inch of her lips, sending shudders of pleasure racing through her groin and up into her belly with each thrust. Ronan was looking down at her the whole time, face a foot away from hers. She watched the pleasure play across his face, mouth slightly open, eyes dreamy. Neither of them were particularly loud, he made little moans, breathing heavily in time with each thrust, a match to her own gentle breathing.

They started heating up, their body heat rising as they moved together. Ciara felt him get harder, cock growing and stiffening even more as his climax approached. The hardness of his cock made his thrusts even more intense against her lips and she started squeezing him more quickly. In her desperation she fell a little out of synch with him, but they made up for thrusting harder as she kept squeezing.

Suddenly Ciara felt it, the familiar welcome tightening of an approaching climax. Ronan's hard, fast thrusts tipped her over. The feeling built and built, a pulsing fire deep in her belly. All at once it overtook her. Ciara came with shattering force, she had been quiet until now but all at once she cried out, her shout reverberating off the walls. It was raw and loud, a month of frustration released in one exhalation. As she came her pussy spasmed, milking Ronan rapidly. The intense motion of her lips and walls sent Ronan over the edge as well, and he grunted loud and deep as he climaxed with her. Ciara's walls squeezed him tight so she felt every twitch of his cock as he pumped seed into her. His seed triggered a second climax in her, sending a fresh wave of sparks shooting through her body as she came once again. They stayed locked together in their mutual climax, one being joined in delight of each other's bodies.

After a minute, Ciara's orgasm began to die down, she shudderd one last time as a final wave of sensation coursed through her, then relaxed and went limp. She felt Ronan sag on top of her a moment later.

Ciara let herself just breath for about a minute, just enjoying the feel of her savay's body, the smell of him. He was still inside her and she enjoyed the gentle pressure of his cock pressing against her lips as he kept filling her. His cock twitched a few more times, little aftershocks that sent fresh waves of seed into her. She twitched in response, miniature organs shooting through her and she gave his cock a few squeezes with her lips, making him groan.

Then Ciara opened her lips wide and slid off of him. It felt very unpleasant to have him leave her, it left her cold and empty inside, but she didn't want to risk waiting any longer. She rolled over onto her back, closed her eyes, and began to sing. She sang the Song of Life and it revealed the inner workings of her own body to her. It was a strange feeling, she rarely used the song on herself, but she had practiced it well along with all other aspects of her craft. She focused in on her womb and saw the dense cloud of his seed flowing slowly inside her. It hadn't reached her cervix, but it would only be a few minutes. She focused past her cervix and saw she had just released an egg, ready for his seed.

Ciara changed the tune of the song form the adventurous ditty of discovery she had used to map her body to the more energetic ballad Ronan had taught her. She focused it on the cloud of seed and felt it start to wither, the cloud slowing and dimming as the life burned out of it. Out of curiosity, she directed the song against the egg and the brilliant gold sparks that lit it also went out. She felt a fierce surge of triumph but kept singing through it, making sure to clear out the rest of Ronan's seed. When Ciara was sure she had gotten it all she let the song fade. She felt the smallest sense of tiredness, she was still recovering from last night's ordeal, but it wasn't a very taxing song.

Ciara opened her eyes and looked at Ronan, now that the work was done she let the full sense of giddy triumph overtake her.

"It worked. It worked!"

They grinned at each other for a few long moments, then Ronan leaned forward and kissed her again. Ciara folded her arms around him and they sank into the bed, she wrapped her legs around him and just focused on the feel of him, his lips on hers, his hands on her back. After denying herself for so long, the chance to touch her savay, enjoy the feel of his body, was intoxicating. Ronan shared her eagerness, exploring her back, her flanks, his hand ran over her skin, leaving trails of fire and lighting with his passage.

After a few minutes they had finally had their fill of each other and pulled away, holding each other gently, warmed by each other's presence.

After a while Ciara's thoughts went back to what she had been about to say before Ronan had kissed her.

"This song of yours could change things."

"Oh?" asked Ronan. His voice tired and lazy.

"It's not a very hard song, any vay that knows the lifesong could use it so she could lay with a savay whenever she wishes, not just when she's whelping."

"Oh, that's a good point. That's great," said Ronan, still sounding half asleep.

Privately, Ciara thought not every savay would be pleased. Savay didn't like anything that gave their vay a way to avoid whelping. This song would also let Ciara stop a woman from quickening if she didn't wish to have a litter. Ciara decided she would have to be very circumspect when discussing this song.

Ronan sat up suddenly "Are you alright?" asked Ronan. "You don't... was that okay?"

"Yes, yes, it was wonderful. Everything I dreamed it would be," said Ciara, she realized suddenly talking about the implications of the song rather than what they had shared had made Ronan worried. She leaned forward and gave him another gentle kiss.

"I'm sorry, I think too much sometimes."

"Don't be. You don't."

"Was it... was it alright with you? Laying together without whelping?"

"I... it is very strange. Isn't it? I suppose technically you're not... not fulfilling your duty to my house but... I feel very fulfilled at the moment."

Ciara punched him gently in the arm and Ronan snorted. Then he gave her a small kiss which she returned, to show him he wasn't mad.

"But it is very freeing too, to lay together just for... for fun. And there are so many women to whelp with now I can get all the orcs I need from them."

Ciara's good mood faded. She had treated enough women struggling with their first litters that she hated when savay talked about exploiting them so casually. But most women came to enjoy the attention of their savay as much as vay did. And from what she had seen, Ronan treated women about as respectfully as any savay would. Women achieving equal rights and respect in Vay society wasn't going to be accomplished in one day. All she could do was make sure the women in her household were treated well.

Ciara put her misgivings aside, they would have to wait until later, and brushed Ronan's cheek

"Thank you," she said.

He gave her a dirty grin, "You're welcome."

"No! Not for that, silly, for... for understanding. For letting me be the vay I want to be."

"Of course," said Ronan, "What you do is... it's the purest expression of what the goddess wanted our ancestors to be. It's my job to make sure you're free to do that. I'm just glad we don't have to suffer anymore. I think you've suffered enough."

Ciara smiled, warmed by his words.

"Thank you."

She leaned forward and kissed him again, and this time she opened his mouth, her tongue found his and she made a small noise as a fresh wave of arousal flowed over her body, sending pins and needles across her skin. She felt his cock pressing against her thigh.

They broke the kiss.

"Again?" She asked.

"We do have a lot of catching up to do," said Ronan.

Ciara laughed one more time and leaned forward to kiss him again, letting him push her onto her back. She opened her legs to her savay and cried out in joy as he thrust into her once more.