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Mate for Life

By: LadyArielle



"We've got a new girl," Bran informed Daegon. "Cleric."

Daegon paused, looking at his companion in surprise. "I thought we were supposed to vote on new party members," he said mildly. He detoured from his path toward the tavern's door and strode to the bench where Bran sprawled. Bran waved him to sit. Daegon shook his head and stood, crossing his arms.

"She's a cousin of Glenna's," Bran explained. "And you were gone on your monthly commune in the woods." He shrugged as Daegon frowned. "She's a looker, too."

"All well and good, but can she handle herself in a fight?" Daegon reconsidered and sat, giving Bran a look of mild reproof. No use arguing, it was done; Daegon recognized the tone in their leader's voice. "Though a healer is always welcome," he offered.

"Sure. Glenna's good, and can bash with the best of them to boot. But never a bad idea to have more healing to hand." Bran signaled a passing wench to bring ale. The tavern didn't usually serve in the yard, but their party was well known and paid well. The curvaceous blonde smiled and hurried off. Bridgit, Daegon recalled her name, and quite cuddlesome. He'd had her in his lap a time or two after a run, but had never gotten around to sampling more of her charms. Mostly because her eyes tended to glaze when he tried to actually talk to her. He watched her hips sway teasingly for a moment, then turned when Bran elbowed him.

"Eh?"

"She's been cloistered for the last five years," Bran informed him.

"Who?" Daegon asked blankly.

"The new girl. Emily," Bran explained impatiently. "But Glenna assures me she's got experience, and is a damn good healer. We can always keep her out of the thick of things if we have to," he added thoughtfully.

"Okay," Daegon frowned, considering this. "Gods, not another one to babysit. We were lucky to keep Mendel alive long enough to be useful."

He accepted his ale as Bridgit appeared and patted her cheek, slipping a coin down her bodice. She giggled and accepted another from Bran, who chucked her under the chin and was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek. Bran waved her off and stood. She flounced off, pouting, as the men followed her into the tavern.

"Well that gamble paid off," Bran pointed out comfortably. "We've got one of the best mages around now. I've got a feeling Emily will do even better. Glenna's never been wrong yet."

"Good point."

Daegon automatically scanned the room, taking in the customers grouped around in clumps. The place was slow today, which suited Daegon fine. He spotted a woman in the silver robes of Selune sitting in a chair by the fire, the tavern owner's dog at her feet. He did a double take. That mutt was the meanest canine in the Realms; his one devotion was to his owner, Grundar. The only person besides Grundar that Spike seemed to like was Daegon himself, and that only after Daegon had worked considerable charm and a healthy display of dominance. Spike looked up, sniffing the air. He thumped his tail in greeting to Daegon, bared his teeth a bit at Bran, and stood to lay his head in the woman's lap. She petted him absently, her nose in a book. Spike's tail waved in ecstasy as she scratched behind his ears. Daegon stared.

"That's Emily?" Daegon poked his companion, who nodded. "You said cleric, right?"

"Yep," Bran confirmed. "Been a bit sheltered, but we'll get her up to speed."

"You sure about cleric?" Daegon asked, one brow raised.

"Yeah, she healed that boil Mendel's been bitching about for ages," Bran said, puzzled. "Even Glenna couldn't manage it. Why?"

"No reason," Daegon shrugged.

Spike was practically purring now, and one of the cats Grundar kept to keep the rodent population under control leaped onto Emily's shoulder. She started briefly in surprise, and the cat rubbed her head under the woman's chin. Spike didn't even twitch. Daegon frowned.

"Regretting your vow not to get involved with party members?" Bran teased. "Tasty, ain't she?"

"Yeah," he said absently. Well, it was true. Her robes didn't show her figure much, but the hair braided down her back was a dark red-brown, sparking fire where the light touched it. She had a heart shaped face, pointed chin with a suggestion of a dimple, and a small straight nose. Like many redheads, her skin was very fair. As they approached, she looked up and smiled, and he saw her eyes were deep green, almost the color of pine needles in bright sunlight. He took a discreet sniff and barely suppressed a growl.

She smelled like home. Cleric, his ass.

"Emily, this is Daegon," Bran tossed a thumb over his shoulder at the tall man a step behind him. "Our ranger. Daegon, Emily."

"How do you do," Emily said automatically, shrugging Spike off her lap. The dog had slavishly devoted himself to her almost the instant she had stepped in the door, much to her surprise. She wasn't used to dogs, but this one seemed friendly enough. She rose, Spike settling himself on his haunches slightly in front of her, grinning at the ranger. She held out her hand and Daegon hesitated before taking it. Instead of a handshake, he bowed and kissed her knuckles, and she curtsied in return.

"The pleasure is mine," Daegon said gallantly, not releasing her hand. Emily smiled up at him, close enough that she had to tilt her head rather uncomfortably to meet his eyes. She didn't mind being on the short side, but this man was taller than most, and she felt at a distinct disadvantage. His dark eyes seemed to be studying her. "A cleric, Bran says?" He sounded a little doubtful, and Emily stiffened, pulling her hand away and stepping back a pace.

"Yes," she said simply, eyes narrowing a little, her tone cooling.

He smiled, an easy grin that put her more at ease, and snapped his fingers at Spike. The dog hesitated, turning to brush Emily's hand before scooting forward to nose at the ranger. His gaze sharpened. "Spike doesn't usually like anyone," Daegon observed. "Seems you might have more talent than healing."

"Oh?" Emily was surprised, and looked at the dog in puzzlement. "I don't know about that," she shrugged, as Daegon patted Spike and the dog returned to her feet. "He seems friendly enough."

"Trust me," Daegon leaned toward her as if sharing a secret, "that dog hates everyone."

"He likes you," she observed.

"I have a talent with animals, especially canines," Daegon said without a trace of bravado. "And even so, it took a while for him to come around. I'm impressed, Lady."

"Please, call me Emily," she laughed. "Or Emmy, everyone does. Lady sounds much too formal."

"Emmy it is," Daegon grinned. "I hear you've made the party's day by healing Mendel. I hope you've been thanked properly," he chuckled, eyes twinkling.

"It was the result of a spell; I've spent the last few years specializing in spell-induced wounds and ailments," Emmy said modestly. "It wasn't that difficult when you know where to start. Glenna would have figured it out."

"Glenna's your cousin, I understand?" Daegon snagged a chair, sitting on it backwards as Emmy sat, Spike leaning on her legs. Bran grunted something about dinner and wandered off, satisfied that his ranger and newest party member didn't need him. "I don't recall her mentioning you."

"Not surprising; we come from a large family. There's a lot of us to keep track of," she smiled genially. "We were close as children and when I began adventuring, she was our other cleric," Emmy explained. "But we lost touch after our party parted ways."

There was a note of sadness Daegon didn't understand, and he looked at her thoughtfully. "May I ask why?" he probed gently.

"Not much to tell," Emmy said with another shrug. "I lost my taste for roaming for a time." She hesitated, looking at him, but his face was kindly and looked interested. "My husband was a fighter," she said quietly. "He was killed in our last mission, holding off a troll so the rest of the party could escape. We wouldn't run, and got the troll in the end, but too late to save him," she finished, her voice steady but her eyes sad.

"I'm so sorry," Daegon said simply, touching her arm, and she gave him a melancholy smile.

"Thank you." Her voice was soft as she nodded. "I was a mess. Glenna and our friends eventually found an order that took me in. I was grateful; I knew I was no good to my party anymore and didn't want to be a burden." She was quiet for a moment, then seemed to shake herself out of her sadness. "But time does heal when arts cannot. I started writing Glenna again, and eventually a letter or two found her, and after a time she started urging me to get out in the world again. She's quite strong willed, you know," she laughed at Daegon's emphatic nod.

"That she is," he chuckled. He peered at her, his face growing serious. "So she convinced you to leave the order?"

"Yes and no. I'd been thinking about it for some time. I'd learned much, but I was restless and....she was right." she smiled a bit crookedly. "Garrick wouldn't have wanted me to shut myself away. Once I realized that, I knew I had to come."

"He sounds like he was a good man," Daegon observed quietly.

"He was." Emmy was silent for a while, and Daegon signaled a passing wench for more ale, lifting a brow at the cleric. "Tea, please," she conveyed her order and they regarded each other for a moment.

"Are there any rangers in your family?" Daegon asked abruptly.

"Why, yes," Emily sounded faintly surprised at his tone. "My father was one, my mother a cleric. Why?"

"You seem to charm animals much like one," Daegon explained. "I wondered."

"I see." Emily considered this seriously. "My talent is healing," she said finally. "I've never been particularly drawn to a ranger's art, much to my father's disappointment," she smiled, remembering. "And while I like animals in general, I haven't had much experience with them. Dad trained my brothers; I was more content studying with Mother. But he died when I was very young, so perhaps my talent was merely overlooked," she added fairly. She smiled at Bridgit, who arrived with their drinks, taking her tea and setting a coin on the wench's tray.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Daegon said, accepting his ale with a nod to Bridgit.

She took care to bend low, offering a tantalizing view of plump breasts. Daegon smiled absently at the serving girl, peering around her to look at Emmy. Bridgit sniffed audibly and flounced off. Emmy considered bringing his attention to the girl's pique, decided it was none of her business, and merely sipped her tea, murmuring politely at Daegon's sympathy.

Daegon used several sips of ale to cover his interest in Emmy. She seemed sincere, and he couldn't imagine Glenna being fooled for long by a fraud, let alone a relative of hers being one. Certainly not a woman Glenna trusted enough to bring into the party. And yet, his nose had never been wrong; she smelled of outdoors and moonlight. Under that, the tangy scent of healing arts and.....he inhaled carefully, schooling his face not to show his surprise. Recklessness. That has an odor all its own, coppery, like coins and blood and the ozone of a lightning strike. There was much more to Emmy than met the eye.

"I see you two have met," Glenna's voice broke into his thoughts, and he turned to see the small woman approach. "Beware this one, Emmy, he's a charmer. Broken more hearts than a virgin disciple of Sune," she grinned wickedly at Daegon, grabbing a chair and sitting next to her kinswoman.

He scowled at Glenna, half meaning it, but she merely made a face back, unrepentant. He gave her a reluctant lopsided smile and tipped his mug at her before downing his ale. "I don't chase unwilling women," he defended himself with a shrug. "And I never lie to them."

"You're safe enough, Emmy," Glenna said cheerfully. "He doesn't pursue other party members. Smacks too much of commitment, I expect," she added blithely, ignoring Daegon's glower.

Emmy looked between them, amusement lurking in her half smile. "We were just talking," she offered, finishing her tea.

"So, Glenn, cousins, eh?" Daegon abruptly changed the subject. He hadn't really noticed how similar the cousins were in appearance until he saw them side-by-side. Both small and curvy, stopping short of sturdy-looking, with long lovely hands, fair skin, delicate features. Glenna's hair, cut short in a wild mop of curls that spiraled all over her head, was more brown than red, but with fiery highlights, echoing Emmy's dark red. Hers might curl; it was hard to tell with the braid, but they both had green eyes, though Glenna's were a lighter leaf color, tinged with gold. Despite the few differences, the family resemblance was remarkable. "You could pass for sisters. Twins, even."

"Thank you," they said in unison, looking at each other and laughing. "We got that a lot growing up," Emmy added with amusement. "Our mothers were twins."

"Explains a lot," Daegon said dryly, signaling for another tankard of ale.

They went on their first raid with Emmy two days later. Bran got word from a town councilman that a nest of kobolds had been waylaying travelers and attacking unwary hunting parties. They needed a party to scout and assess the size of the nest, and neutralize it if possible. An easy job, but one never knew; kobolds could be amazingly ruthless and clever. Still, Daegon agreed with Bran that it was a good mission to put Emmy through her paces, and get a feel for the new party dynamic. Emmy, no fool, knew very well why Bran had accepted a job so far beneath their party's capabilities, and took no offense.

Daegon scouted ahead. Locating the entrance to the kobald's nest was a snap. Getting a party of seven inside without detection, not so much. The ranger melted back into the shadows to report back.

"I estimate about forty," Daegon drew a layout of the kobold's den with a stick in the dirt. "I caught sight of both a chieftain and a shaman, and a few captives. They're chained together here," he pointed to a spot in the back of the cavern. "It's gonna be tricky, keeping them safe."

"Only forty?" Bran frowned. "Someone must have fought back."

"That's my thought."

Emmy leaned forward, looking at the makeshift map. "Are we thinking of rescue, then?"

Bran shot her a patient look that clearly said "Duh," but refrained from voicing it aloud. She nodded, intent enough on her thoughts to appear to not notice any sarcasm. "Well, we have a thief, a ranger, two fighters, two clerics, and a mage.....the magic users can stun most of the kobolds, allowing Daegon and Fitz time to free the captives, while you and Dehn can pick off any we haven't enchanted. Once the captives are clear, Mendel can fireball the cave."

Bran just looked at her, clearly impressed. "I was thinking much the same, good plan."

Emmy smiled grimly and inclined her head. Bran nodded back, grinning.

"Let's do it."

They got in without detection, partly thanks to a clever spell of Mendel's that silenced their approach. Fitz and Daegon positioned themselves forward and to one side as the clerics and Mendel prepared their castings. They made it halfway to the captives before the plan went all to hell.

About ten of the kobolds resisted the mage and cleric's spells. Fortunately for the party, most were too far back to effectively attack, but one near the front of the room picked up a large kettle of soup and hurled it toward the party, splashing the fighters and Mendel with hot, evil smelling liquid. Mendel faltered, giving the unstunned kobolds enough time to rush forward before he unleashed a spell that filled the room with an ungodly odor of rot and decay. Two kobolds shook off the effects and lunged at Bran and Dehn, who cut them down easily, despite gagging at the smell. Chaos erupted as Glenna and Emmy lost concentration and the kobolds charged. The fighters were hacking and slashing with wild abandon, barely keeping their feet as they were swarmed. Glenna swung her flail, bashing away, reptilian bodies flying, but more lunging forward eagerly.

Daegon and Fitz shielded their mouths and noses with their arms and dashed towards the prisoners. Further back, the smell was lessened and they efficiently picked the locks of the iron manacles. The captives followed them, gagging and choking as the full force of Mendel's spell hit them. Ranger and thief held their breath, dragging the three unarmed captives behind them. Daegon drew his sword with his free hand, slashing impartially at anything that moved, Fitz zinging daggers left and right. Then a stillness crashed down, and everything seemed to slow.

Emmy stood in the midst of the battle, arms outstretched, chanting, her face glowing. Every kobold in the cavern froze, unable to move a muscle. Without hesitation, Daegon and Fritz dashed for the party, captives in tow, and Bran, Dehn, and Glenna took down all the creatures within reach. Shooing the unarmed rescued to the back of the party, Daegon turned with Fritz to help his fighters. Then a shout from Mendel caused everyone to retreat.

Except Emily.

Cursing, Daegon ran forward and picked her up bodily, turned and ran for the cave's entrance, Mendel only a few strides behind as the fireball engulfed the survivors. He tossed Emmy at Bran, gave it a few beats, and cautiously crept back into the cavern.

The smell of death and burning reptile flesh was overwhelming. He peered through the smoke, assessing the damage. A living torch approached, keening, and Daegon sliced its head off.

Mercy, really.

Nothing else moved. He nodded, and returned to his party.

"Well," Fitz said conversationally, "That was interesting." She sat with her back against a log, one knee drawn up with her elbow hooked casually around it.

Bran looked at Emily, who, along with her cousin, was tending the wounded. Fortunately, there was not much to fix. Dehn and Bran had both suffered multiple slash wounds, which were healed easily enough. The captives were surprisingly healthy, if bruised, and grateful for food and water that didn't taste faintly of fish.

"You said it, Fizzy," Bran nodded and grinned. "Emmy, I've never seen anything like that. How did you do it?"

"No idea," Emily frowned as she seated herself by the fire and accepted a flask from Dehn. She took a deep swallow, and Daegon was impressed that she didn't sputter. Dehn was given to strong spirits.

"That was amazing," Fitz said, downing a healthy tot herself. "No offense," she said to Glenna, who grinned and shrugged.

"I won't say I told you so," Glenna nudged her cousin, smiling. "But I did. Emmy's a good one."

"I don't even know how I did it," Emily protested.

"I don't care, just do it again when we need it. Marry me?" Dehn grinned at Emily, taking back his flask and draining the contents.

Emily smiled sweetly and sat straighter. "You do me honor, sir, but I think we would not suit," she said formally. Dehn laughed. Daegon moved to sit next to her, and she smiled at him.

"You wound me, lass," the fighter clutched his heart theatrically and faked a swoon.

"You'll live," Daegon said dryly, handing Emily a slice of bread and cheese. She took it gratefully, suddenly feeling light headed. The food helped. Daegon touched her elbow, raising a brow. "You okay?" Emily nodded. "I'll take first watch, guys. Get some sleep." He peered at Emmy, noting how she was blinking and swaying, and not, he would bet, from Dehn's killer flask. "I think Emmy should be exempt tonight."

"I'm fine," she protested, but Bran waved her down.

"Daeg's right," the big warrior smiled genially at her. "That took a lot out of you, whatever it was. You earned it."

"I agree," Mendel said unexpectedly, his eyes thoughtful. "Impressive work, Emmy."

"Thanks," she seemed flustered by the attention, and fussed unnecessarily over her sleeping roll to cover her embarrassment. Daegon patted her shoulder and went to keep watch.


Mate for Life



Soon everyone was sound asleep, giving Daegon time to think. He was sure now the Emmy was genuinely unaware of any talent she possessed as a ranger, and was starting to doubt his own perception. Her spell in the cave wasn't anything a ranger was trained to do, that was certain. But her scent......it was driving him batty, and he could barely keep from touching her. As it was, he'd gotten a few sly comments over the attention he paid her, though she seemed oblivious to it. She didn't seem to treat him any differently than she did anyone else. He was surprised at how much that bothered him.

Face it, she's not interested, he told himself sternly. Even if she does smell like...

His mate?

The thought hit before he could squelch it, and he shook his head savagely, as if to throw it out of his mind by brute force. But there it was, no taking it back now. He growled softly, watching her sleep, though still alert to the sounds of the woods around him. A rustling from the bush behind Emmy sharpened his gaze, and he half rose, ready to strike. He relaxed as a fox cautiously emerged, sniffing the air, its eyes black in the faint light of the banked fire. The fox dropped its nose, snuffling all along Emmy's still form, made a happy sort of muffled whine, and curled up in a ball at her feet. She didn't stir. Daegon grinned.

By the time his watch was done, she had attracted a squirrel, a chipmunk, and a rabbit, all snoozing away as close to her as they could get. The rabbit was absurdly flopped on its back, his ears grazing Emmy's cheek, and he stifled a laugh when she snorted in her sleep and twitched at the tickle. None of the animals seemed concerned about the others' presence.

"She does have that effect, guys," Daegon said softly, and woke Fizzy for the next watch.

The town council was enormously pleased and paid them generously, Bran for once not having to haggle their fee back to where it belonged.

"We probably got stiffed," he commented cynically as he divvied up the take. "Damn all politicians."

"Certainly," Mendel slid his share into an elaborately embroidered purse, tucking it away somewhere on his person. Daegon knew logically that Mendel's robes must have pockets, but they never betrayed any extra bulk, no matter how much he was carrying. "But they paid us well, regardless." The mage wandered away.

Daegon took his cut without counting it, looking around for Emily. He spotted her in a corner by the fire, Spike at her feet, one - no, two - of the half-feral tavern cats in her lap. He drew closer and stifled a laugh. There was a mouse on her shoulder, totally unconcerned by the two cats within striking distance. Fizzy and Glenna were with her, the three women laughing and chatting over tea and breakfast. He watched Emmy place a crumb on her shoulder for the mouse, which squeaked with delight.

"Still plagued by furry things, eh cousin?" Glenna teased as Daegon approached. She looked up and smiled at the ranger. "Morning, Daeg."

"Good morning, ladies," Daegon bowed elaborately, causing Glenna and Fitz to roll their eyes and Emmy to laugh. "Planning your shopping campaign? I pity the shopkeepers, they don't stand a chance."

"Of course," Glenna said with a grin. "A girl has to have some fun."

"Emmy, you continue to amaze me," he scratched Spike's ears, the dog having lumbered to his feet at Daegon's arrival. "Normally, Spike would have wreaked havoc chasing the cats, and likely gotten soundly thrashed for his trouble. And Sir Mouse? Cat kibble."

"Oh, she's always been like that," Glenna said helpfully before Emmy could speak. "She was always nursing wounded animals and being followed by every critter within shouting distance. Uncle Tanrick wanted to train her, but Aunt Jenny wouldn't let him."

"That's not true, Glenn," Emily said, a frown between her brows. "I wasn't interested in forestry. Mama never said a thing against my training. And Dad died when we were only seven, how would you know?"

"I was at your place as much as you were at mine," Glenna waved a hand airily. "And my mother told me about yours; they were twins after all. Aunt Jenny was really afraid you'd be like your father, you know."

"What do you mean?" Emily looked as if she wondered if she should be angry.

Glenna looked at her cousin, blinking. "You really don't know, do you?" she said slowly.

Now this sounded interesting. Daegon took a seat, trying to blend in with the wall. The cousins seemed to have forgotten him. Fitz caught his eye, raising a brow, and he shook his head at her, leaning forward to catch Emmy's reply. Fitz shrugged and sat back.

"Know what?" Emmy asked sharply.

"Emmy, your dad thought you could be the most gifted ranger in generations," Glenna said, biting her lip. "But Aunt Jenn wouldn't let him train you. She was afraid you'd hare off and get killed all alone in the woods somewhere, and she'd never know what happened to you. She was so happy when you married Garrick, because she knew then that you'd have protection."

Emily was so still for a moment Daegon wondered if she breathed. "That can't be right," she said quietly, staring at Glenna. "That was a long time ago, you must be remembering things wrong. If you thought I knew, why didn't we talk about it when we were children?"

Glenna took Emily's hand, her eyes troubled. "We did, some," Glenna reminded her. "But you always said you were going to be a great cleric like your mom, and the animal thing was just something you liked to do, and it was good practice. Remember?"

Emily nodded slowly, unconsciously petting Spike, who had sensed her distress and offered comfort. The cats, not so concerned for her state of mind, regally ignored the dog and slunk off her lap to curl under her chair. "But...Glenna, why didn't anyone tell me? Not my brothers? Not you? Not Aunt Janet?"

Glenna sighed. "When your dad died, Aunt Jenn wouldn't let anyone discuss ranger training with you, ever. She said you would become a cleric, and that was that. Uncle Tanrick died saving his party, holding off a horde of kobolds or something?"

"Yes," Emily said in a small voice. "I...never really got the details, Mama never spoke much of it." She swallowed, looking at Glenna. "But honestly, I don't remember ever wanting to train as a ranger, I always wanted to be a cleric."

"Well, I don't know what exactly happened," Glenna said softly. "And you're right, you always said you wanted to be a cleric, and you're a damn good one. I think Aunt Jenn was very careful to channel you in that direction."

"But not my brothers?" Emily sounded bitter. "It wasn't appropriate for me because I'm a girl?"

"Your brothers are quite a bit older than you, Emmy," Glenna said softly. "Mom said that Aunt Jenn had pretty much given up having more children when you came along. She was so happy to have a daughter, and..." Glenn bit her lip, hesitating.

Emily sighed. "Just tell me," she said.

"Mom and Dad always said Uncle Tanrick was a charmer, and a fantastic ranger," Glenna said. "But reckless. Remember how our brothers were always pulling us out of trees and waterholes and caves? We'd always get stuck somehow," she grinned at Emily, who smiled back. "Well, whose idea was it, every time?"

Emily stopped smiling, looking wary. "Ummmmm..."

"Yours," Glenna said. "Just like your father. Reckless, always getting into trouble. Hell, I barely recognized you when you got here, you were so quiet and self-contained. Remember when we traveled together? Who always found trouble? Hm?"

"Me," Emmy whispered, looking stricken. "Glenn, I..."

"Don't apologize," Glenna laughed. "That was some of the best days of my life. Until Garrick died," she said, suddenly sobering. "That broke you, love. And you're so changed now. Not that I blame you."

"But none of that explains..."

"Yeah, it does," Fizzy said unexpectedly, and Daegon could have hugged her. He'd been afraid of interrupting, not wanting to disturb the flow of information he was finding so fascinating. But Fizzy could; she was part of the club of women. Daegon tried to be invisible as Fitz continued. "It sounds to me like your mother was a planner, someone that thought things through before acting, and your dad was someone that mostly worked by instinct, leaping in before looking. Am I right?"

The two cousins nodded. "Mama always said her sister over thought things," Glenna offered.

"Well, you were born late, the only girl, and I'll bet you showed a talent for healing and animals at an early age. She didn't want to lose her only daughter, and there was likely no chance of more children. So she encouraged that part of you, while steering you away from the more reckless aspects of your talents. When your dad died, I'm sure it just reinforced her needing to protect you," Fitz said matter of factly.

"Makes sense," Glenna said before Emmy could comment. "And sounds exactly like Aunt Jenn."

Emily looked at Fitz thoughtfully. "Your mother did the same thing, didn't she?" she asked shrewdly.

"Father," Fizzy corrected cheerfully. "It's a wonder how parents screw up their kids."

"Your mom was a thief?" Glenna asked with interest.

"Nope, she ran a tavern, and had trained as a healer. She actually left it up to me what I wanted to be. Dad was a merchant, very respectable and serious, but he loved us. No idea where I got my talent," Fizzy grinned. "But I was in and out trouble when I was younger. Dad tried so hard to get me to be a nice, normal, simpering female, never mind that Mother wasn't even close to that. Finally Mom got me an apprenticeship with the thieves' guild, telling Dad that the only way to keep me out of some backwater jail was to see I was trained properly not to get caught. Thank the gods she saw reason. Dad came around eventually," she added with a grin.

Emily nodded, her eyes looking inwards. "I think," she said slowly, "you're both right." She looked up and seemed startled when she caught Daegon's eye. "What do you think?" she asked him suddenly.

"I think you need to learn to shoot a bow," Daegon said.

Bran declared a holiday, as the area seemed quiet for now and they had enough money to last them a few months if they wished. There was no need to move on and look for work yet. Everyone took time to train and restock their packs, then scattered to their own pursuits. Mendel retreated to his books and magic, Bran and Glenna simply disappeared, most likely together. It was an open secret they were a couple, though they had yet to admit it out loud. Fizzy and Dehn spent most of their time in whatever tavern took their fancy. Daegon usually preferred to spend his time in the woods, living off the land and getting away from the bustle of town. But this time, he hung around the tavern, because that was where Emily was.

"You seriously never considered becoming a ranger?" he asked her over breakfast.

"No, never," she took a sip of her tea, fending off Spike's devotion. The dog would nose at her hand whenever it strayed below table level. "Lay down, Spike!" The mutt obediently dropped to the floor, nose on paws, giving her such a sorrowful look that Daegon almost choked on his food from laughing. The cats had prudently stayed away, and there was no sign of mice or any other rodent.

"Well, I suppose you didn't have much opportunity to explore it," Daegon mused around his ham and eggs.

"No." Emmy chewed and swallowed, shrugging. "Even when I was adventuring with Glenn and Garrick and the rest, it never occurred to me to expand my training."

"Well, why would you?" Daegon grinned. "Clerics are never encouraged to change their profession." They chuckled together. "I'm sure Glenn and your husband were used to it, but didn't the rest of the party notice you were followed by furry critters a lot?"

"Not really. We had a ranger in the party, and he was very good. He did mention I seemed to attract animals, but he knew about my father and put it down to an inherited trait." She took another sip of tea. "Besides, I never did have any talent with a sword or bow."

"You sure about that?" Daegon pushed aside his empty plate and eyed her in a friendly yet challenging manner. "Has anyone really tried to teach you to shoot? Or swing a sword?"

"My husband," she said. "He said I had a good eye with a bow, but blades were not my forte. We didn't train much," she added with a shrug. "And then he was gone."

Daegon watched her face carefully, but there was no weepy self-pity in her eyes. "So, no," he teased gently.

"No," she agreed.

"I can fix that."

He took her to an armory and got her outfitted with a bow, quiver, vambrace and arrows, insisting on paying over her protests.

"Consider it a gift, after all I'm bullying you into this," he grinned and she scowled back.

"I don't like being bullied," she said stubbornly.

"And yet, you haven't walked away." She snapped her mouth shut at that, glaring. "Look, if this doesn't work out, I'll just sell them again. No big deal," he wheedled with his most charming smile.

"Oh, all right!"

Emmy still looked irked, and her tone was less than gracious. But she'd said yes. He ignored her attitude, exchanging a conspiratorial wink with the owner as he handed over the gold.

There was a practice yard behind the building, with pells and throwing targets. The archery butts were set up a fair distance past where various warriors sparred. He showed Emmy how to string her bow and hold it, then demonstrated how to aim and shoot. He hit the target dead center, Emmy watching carefully.

"Now you try," he invited with a theatrical swoop of his arm.

She took a deep breath and stood as he had shown her, drawing the bowstring back, bracing her left arm straight. He helpfully got behind her, adjusting her stance and moving her arms until she was perfectly positioned, trying to ignore how good she smelled. She trembled slightly. Daegon steadied his breathing and stepped back.

"Okay, you're good. Go for it."

She was a good student; the first arrow hit the target. She made a happy noise and tried again, Daegon refraining from touching her this time. He settled for simply giving her pointers as Emmy aimed again. She did even better, getting the arrow into the third ring, squealing with delight.

"Very good," Daegon approved, applauding. "Now try this."

He stood close behind her, setting his cheek next to hers, guiding her hands into perfect shooting position. "Sight your target," he said softly, his breath slow and easy. He was so close he could feel her heartbeat quicken, and hid a smile. "Draw back a little more...yes, perfect..." his hands were over hers, helping her grip bow and string. She smelled of musk and lavender, woods and sunshine. Daegon willed himself not to press his lips in the hollow behind her ear. He felt her tremble and stilled himself with an effort. "Relax...look down the arrow and see where you want it to go....up just a tiny bit...good....now just let go."

The arrow flew straight and true, and buried itself only slightly off dead center. The snap of the bowstring reverberated between them, and she turned her head to look at him, eyes wide with victory, just as he turned to look at her. Their lips were so close he could taste her breath, and without stopping to think, he kissed her.

Emmy's lips were soft and warm and tasted of the honey she put in her tea. He felt more than heard her gasp of surprise, but she didn't pull away, and he took the opening gladly, however small it was. He kissed her gently, tentatively, testing her response, and felt her sway toward him with a soft sigh. And then she kissed him back, and everything changed. Her scent rose in his nostrils, and he involuntarily growled low in his throat, his beast rising and sniffing the air. She backed away so quickly he almost overbalanced, and she stared at him, her eyes wide and startled. He knew his own weren't far off in expression, tinged with sudden lust and desire, and uncertainty bordering on fear. He never lost control like that, ever. Daegon hadn't a clue what to say, and waited for her to run. But then a coppery scent enveloped his senses as she moved, not away, but closer, invading his personal space, looking up into his eyes for a long moment.

"What are you?" she whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek with one soft hand. He was struck speechless when she rose on tiptoe and inhaled deeply. "You smell like..." her voice trailed off and she looked even more startled, sniffing again. "You smell a lot like Spike, but better, more.... she sniffed again. "Like you're mine," she said, her tone tinged with something close to wonder. "Why do you smell like that?"

"You tell me," he managed, his voice husky as her finger traced the line of his jaw. "Emmy, I..."

"Hush," she put a finger over his lips. "I'm thinking."

She smiled as he kissed her finger, but her eyes were inward. He could almost hear her heartbeat, and the ozone scent was nearly overwhelming, masking the musky sweetness that made him want to tear her robe off. She closed her eyes, breathing long and deep, and when she spoke, it was almost as if she were chanting a spell.

"I see you, and woods, and the moon, a hunter's moon. Then.... not a dog..." she mused to herself. She suddenly looked up at him, her eyes focused, her lips pursed. "Is it true?" she asked simply. He nodded slowly. "Oh. My. Gods." He braced himself for her censure and fear, but when he looked full into her face, it was shining with something he couldn't at first identify. Acceptance, and something more. Before he could process it, she rose on tiptoe, yanking his head down by simply grabbing the front of his tunic and tugging hard, and kissed him.

Completely taken off guard, he nearly stumbled with the force of her yank, but quickly recovered and wound his arms around her, hauling her mouth and scent as close as he could get them. She kissed with reckless abandon, her lips parting for his probing tongue, making small whimpering noises in her throat as his mouth fully possessed hers. She felt so right in his arms, she smelled so incredibly hot and sweet and his, his head swam from the scent of lust and Emmy. He forgot they were in a public practice yard, forgot that he never got involved with party members, forgot that he had vowed never to get too close. Hell, he forgot his own name. He pulled his mouth from hers, kissed down her throat and bit gently at the juncture of neck and shoulder, reveling as she shuddered and gasped. His hands slid up her sides, briefly gripped her shoulders, and rose to cup her face, his lips taking hers again in a long, slow dance of passion. A bark startled them both, and they leaped apart.

Several dogs had trotted up, unnoticed in the intensity of the moment, sniffing at Emmy's feet and whining. A few more were approaching, and she flushed deep red. Daegon looked around, catching most of the sparring fighters in the practice yard grinning at them before hastily going about their business. One of the mutts barked again, pawing at the hem of Emmy's robes and looking hopeful. Daegon made a low noise and the dogs scattered.

Daegon held out his hand and Emmy took it, still faintly rosy from kisses and emotion. He drew her closer and brushed his thumb over one cheekbone, bending to kiss her again, soft and brief and sweet. "Get your bow," he said quietly, letting her go reluctantly. "I want to show you something."

"What?" she asked, gathering up her brand new bow and quiver. She shivered at his touch when he helped her strap both to her back.

"All of me," he said, giving her a wicked smile. "Trust me?"

"Absolutely," she assured him, and grinned back.

There was a clearing deep in the woods that few knew about, with a pool fed by an underground stream. Daegon went there often, jealously guarding its location even from his party members. Well shielded by thick growths of bushes and trees, there was only a few paths leading into it that an experienced ranger could follow. Most didn't have his highly developed sense of smell and would miss the scent of fresh water, or rather the lichen growing in it, unless practically on top of the hidden grove. Since he had discovered it years ago, he had only detected an outsider's presence occasionally, and never come across anyone actually occupying the pool or grassy area surrounding the water. He didn't begrudge the few that had found this small oasis of calm, but was grateful that it remained relatively untouched. It was his sanctuary from the world, and he'd never shared it with anyone. Emmy stilled as she drank in the beauty of the small but deep pool, the lush grass and colorful wildflowers, the lazy bright butterflies flitting about, and unconsciously reached for his hand.




Mate for Life



"How beautiful," she breathed, twisting about to take it all in at once. "And no one knows of this place?"

"Very few," Daegon said quietly, squeezing her hand and kissing it.

"I don't blame you for not sharing," she smiled at him, touching his cheek. "I'm honored."

He smiled, pleased that she grasped its importance. He wanted badly to kiss her again, had barely restrained himself from following her into her room at the tavern when they had stopped in to grab their gear. Her scent had dimmed some, more of a banking of the flames than burning out, but it was still there, teasing his senses, making his head swim when he inhaled too close to her. He carefully didn't move any closer. He needed her to see first.

As if plucking the thought from his head, she eyed him seriously and spoke. "This isn't all of what you wanted to show me." It wasn't a question, and he nodded, letting go her hand and stepping back a pace.

He began to disrobe, setting his weapons and clothes neatly on a rock nearby, Emmy watching curiously. He was completely unconcerned being naked before her, and was unsurprised that she took his nudity in stride. She was, after all, a healer. Her scent rose, however, and he grinned to himself, glad that she was not as unaffected as she seemed. Taking a deep breath, he locked eyes with her and shifted.

The change was briefly agonizing as usual, and the energy it took shimmered the air around him. Emmy watched, wide eyed and fascinated, as his form bent and swelled, hair shooting out of his skin, face lengthening and a tail growing so fast she couldn't track it at all. In little more than the space of six heartbeats, the wolf howled, releasing the pain of transformation, and padded over to her, softly chuffing. She knelt, and Daegon nosed her cheek, for all the world looking like an oversized dog, making small whimpering noises of greeting as he nuzzled her face. She rubbed her cheek against his furry one and pulled back to catch his eyes. They were Daegon's, large and dark and very human, alien and almost shocking in their intelligence. She smiled, cupping the large shaggy face between her hands, and touched noses with him.

"You're beautiful," she breathed, and he growled a little in protest. "No, really," she laughed. "Very handsome."

That seemed to mollify him, and she sat on the springy grass, Daegon flopping beside her, head in her lap. Emmy stroked his fur, scratching behind his ears, and he whined in pleasure. "Is this the only form you take?" she asked curiously, and he raised his head, looking at her thoughtfully before shaking it emphatically. "How many?" she asked, and he gave her such a pointed look she laughed. "Oh, sorry, of course you can't answer. Yes or no questions to start, hm?" He nodded, eyes twinkling at her, and licked her face, just because he could and knew she wouldn't stop him. "More than three?" He shook his head and licked her again. She giggled. "Three then, human, wolf, and...." Emmy cocked her head at him, and he looked suddenly wary. "You're afraid of me seeing you in that other form, aren't you?" she asked softly. He whined and backed away, but she didn't seem frightened. With a deep growling sigh, he shimmered again.

This was more painful, Emmy could tell, and she held her breath watching him writhe with agony. It took longer, which mystified her when she beheld the results. Logically, to transform to half-human wolf should not be more difficult than human to wolf, but it seemed it was. His roar when complete was darker, more dangerous. And the outcome was simply breathtaking.

She had heard of lycanthropes, of course, everyone had. Almost every adventurer she had met had spun tales of battling terrifying monsters that were half-animal, half men and every cleric she knew studied how to protect themselves and their parties from being infected. But she had never seen one; they were rarer than the stories implied. And universally, they were accepted to be evil creatures, chaotic and violent, that disdained human life and fed off their flesh if they could.

Daegon was none of those things.

Tall, strong, and beautifully built, his head a blend of human and wolf, long snouted but much more mobile a mouth and jaw. His arms were powerful and ending in hands that were shortened and stubbier than a man's but still obviously able to grasp as well as claw, nails long and thick and pointed. His feet were more paw like, balanced to run bipedal or on all fours, leg muscles highly developed. She imagined he could jump astonishingly high and far if he chose. His torso was more man than beast, the chest as wide as it was in human form, tapering to slim hips and....She was on her feet now, not realizing she had even stood, staring at the gloriously beautiful creature standing in a patch of wildflowers, his deep brown fur edged in gold by the sunlight.

"You know now," a deep growling voice tore her gaze from the most male part of him. Having caught a glimpse as he had disrobed, she was quite certain the dimensions weren't all that far off. "You don't seem afraid," he observed, his voice so different from the light teasing she was used to.

"I'm not," she said, rather breathlessly, but with complete sincerity.

"You should be," he took a step toward her, all muscle and powerful grace. She swallowed, not from fear. Her emotions were jumbled; she could smell the magic and earthy musk of him, and without realizing it, moved closer.

"You're the most beautiful creature I've ever seen," she said simply, taking another step, her hand reaching out to touch him. He was warm, much warmer than human, and she could feel the pulse of his blood under the fur. She took his hand, both of hers almost disappearing in the large paw like grip, then turned it over, studying it with fascination. The palms were heavily calloused, the fur softer and less shaggy, made to run on. She felt him tremble as she kissed it and looked into his face. "I could never be afraid of you." She paused. "Do you want me to be?"

"No," he made a sound that was a lot like a cough and realized he was laughing. His body relaxed, the tenseness in his shoulders easing. "No, that's not what I want at all."

"What do you want?" she whispered, tilting her head to watch his face as he closed the distance between them.

"You," he said simply, and enfolded her in his warmth.

He couldn't kiss her properly, and growled in frustration, settling for nuzzling her and tracing his tongue along the line of her jaw. She shivered, holding him close, rubbing her cheek over his fur. His heart was beating fast, almost dangerously so, and she pulled away, putting a hand to his chest and biting her lip with concern.

"Perfectly normal," he assured her. "Stronger in this form, too." He cupped one furry paw under her chin and looked down at her, eyes shining. "You really don't care, do you?"

"Why should I?" she asked. "You're you, no matter what. There's no evil in you," she smiled, unable to help touching him, running her hands over the silky fur of his chest. "Cleric, remember? I'd know," she teased gently.

"That's not normal," he warned. "Most of my kind are." His breath was a bit faster, tongue lolling a bit as he panted, mesmerized by her touch. She giggled, thinking the wolfish look on his face endearing.

"You're not most kind," she informed him, stepping into his embrace again. "Normal is overrated, anyway."

He barked, but it was such a happy sound she couldn't help but laugh with him. Setting her away from his body, the air thrummed with power again, leaving just Daegon, roaring in pain, crouching on the grass. He caught his breath as the agony ceased and looked at her, his smile crooked. He looked around for his clothes, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Don't," she said softly, crouching next to him.

He stared at her a moment, his eyes tracing her face as if trying to memorize every line. His smile shone like the sun as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. His kiss was not gentle, and she met it with a fierceness that took his breath away. He wondered briefly if her order had been celibate, then didn't care as his mouth took hers with a controlled ferocity that made her moan. Her hands were everywhere, soft and hot and exploring, and when she grasped his cock he almost howled from need. He didn't know how her robes managed to disappear, he only knew she was hot and round and soft in his hands, quivering under his kisses, arching against him. He wanted to go slower, but she smelled so good, like pack and musk and moonlight, her scent was all around him, calling her mate. And he came to her, strong and growling, finding her slick center and making her his with one smooth hard thrust.

She cried out as he began to stroke, her hips undulating, meeting his thrusts, and he got his hands under her, gripping her buttocks to pull her even closer. Her orgasm broke over them both, sudden and powerful, her inner muscles clamping down hard. He growled again, kissing her mouth, tongue thrusting in time with his cock, swallowing her moans. He felt her cum again, twice more, shuddering and gasping in his arms, and somehow managed to haul her up to straddle his lap, wanting to hold her, feel her skin on his. Emmy wrapped her arms around him, kissing his jaw, his neck, his shoulder, making deep purring sounds as his cock pleasured her beyond anything she'd experienced before. She arched away from him as he nuzzled down her throat, kissing his way to her breasts, capturing one nipple between his lips and sucking strongly. She groaned, spasming again as he suckled, then turned his attention to the other side, marveling at all her noises and shivering as she dragged her nails down his back.

Lifting his head from her glorious breasts, he kissed her lips again and pulled out over her whimpering protests. Hands on her hips, he gently slid her off his lap and nudged her to her hands and knees, wasting no time in getting his cock back into her hot slick heat. She moaned, a long keening sound of pure pleasure, as he reached under to tease her clit with one long clever finger. Taking her from behind intensified his need, and he curled his hand into her hair, thrusting hard and fast into her willing softness. She gave as good as she got, hips slamming against his pelvis with every stroke. He howled with delight as she reached under to cup his balls, heavy and beginning to tighten as he sought release. His free hand grasped one large breast, squeezing and pinching the nipple. Abandoning her hair, he grabbed both breasts in his large hands, hearing her moan as the pace quickened.

The sweat on her skin made sliding his hands down to her waist smooth and erotic as their pace increased to frenzy. She shuddered and came, this time so hard he wondered if he would be trapped, and didn't care, knowing he'd never get enough of her, never want her any less, always be alert for her voice, her touch, her smell. With that thought, he felt her open to him completely, taking him so deep he couldn't tell where he ended and she began, and she began to sob, begging him to mark her, never stop, make her his. He needed no other invitation, bending over her body, he licked the spot where her neck and shoulder met, and bit, just hard enough to break the skin, kissing away the sting as he erupted inside her. She clamped down, then released, caressing in rhythm of his cock, moving so seamlessly with him he could not imagine that a week ago he had never known her, milking him as he shuddered and felt his legs tremble with the effort not to collapse. And somehow she managed to turn, his now softening member sliding out of her, laying back with her arms held out, and he paused only long enough to kiss her before gathering her up in his arms to doze in the warmth of the sun.

Thwack.

Emmy's arrow buried itself in the second ring, just below her last one. Daegon watched critically, calling out encouragement and instruction as she let fly again.

"You're improving amazingly fast," he commented with pride as he helped her recover her arrows from the butts. "I've never seen anything like it."

Emmy bit her lip as she tugged at a particularly deeply embedded one. "Not so much with blades," she said ruefully as she almost stumbled, the arrowhead suddenly releasing with a crackle from the straw.

"True," Daegon admitted with a smile. "You're already proficient with a mace, though. That will do. What is it with you and swords?" he asked for the hundredth time.

"Don't know," she said cheerfully. "Don't care."

"Swords are efficient," he grumbled. "Damn shame."

"I told you," she reminded him, lining up to empty her quiver yet again. Daegon insisted on drilling her mercilessly, and truth to tell, she loved it. After only a week, Emmy could hit nearly anything she aimed at. "But I love shooting," she smiled as three shafts struck the bull's eye in quick succession. "You're an amazing teacher."

He was tempted to ask why she hadn't discovered her talent when her late husband had attempted to train her, but he was reluctant to invite comparison. Garrick, from what he had gathered, had been a good man, and devoted to his wife. Daegon had no intention of sullying the fighter's memory. And he was honest enough with himself to admit that he didn't have any wish to come out the lesser in her eyes. He smiled at her enthusiasm, delighted at sharing a talent with this extraordinary woman. It was almost eerie how fast she had become proficient.

"Timed now," he called.

Emmy immediately slung her bow over her shoulder and stood, poised for battle, midway between the three butts. When Daegon called "Now!" she swung the bow around, plucked an arrow from her quiver, and commenced shooting, turning to aim and let fly as Daegon called "Left! Right! Center!" in random order and intervals. "Not bad at all," he encouraged, grinning. Emmy had hit every target, not always perfectly, but still impressively enough to make him whistle in appreciation. She grinned at her lover as he made a victory sign. They repeated this several times, having her start further away, to the left or right, always shifting her position. Finally, Daegon signaled her to stop. She stowed her weapon, carefully checking each arrow for damage before tidily sliding them away. She moved to him and he reached for her, kissing her long and deep before pulling back and noting how her arms trembled ever so slightly.

"You're getting stronger," he observed, and she smiled a bit tiredly. "Those exercises are paying off."

"I have a relentless taskmaster," she deadpanned. "A real brute."

"I'll have a word with him," Daegon promised solemnly. "Can't have someone slave driving my girl."

She laughed at that, then groaned with pleasure as he turned her around and skillfully kneaded the tight muscles of her neck and shoulders.

"You're lucky I've given up teaching you to use a sword," he teased. "Imagine how sore you'd be then." He paused in his massage and nuzzled her just behind her ear. "Maybe we should ask Bran or Dehn to try," he suggested. "I hold my own, but those two are way ahead of me."

Emmy turned and caught his chin in her fingers, looking at him seriously. "I. Loathe. Swords." She said succinctly.

He chuckled and pulled her close. "So you've demonstrated," he agreed, recalling several disastrous sparring sessions. Daegon had finally admitted defeat when Emily had nearly impaled her own foot with an ill-timed and clumsy attack. She had threatened to break his favorite long sword over a rock when he hadn't swallowed his laughter fast enough. "I promise. No more swords."

"Mace is good enough for melee," she said serenely, snuggling close. "It's not like I'll stop being a cleric."

"I wouldn't want you to," he said sincerely. "And you're good with a mace," he added fairly.

They made their way hand in hand back to the tavern, where they were surprised to see Bran on his favorite bench, sipping a tankard of ale. He raised an eyebrow at their linked hands and grinned.

"Well, well, well. Fast work, Daeg."

Daegon scowled as Emmy blushed, tightening his hand around hers as she started to pull away. "Glenna finally come to her senses?" he countered, tucking Emily securely under his arm. "You're back early."

Bran flushed, scowled back, and drained his ale. "Fair hit," he acknowledged with a rather reluctant grin. "Nah, she's inside. She was worried about Emmy."

"Me?" Emily's brows drew together in puzzlement. "Why?"

"Ask her," Bran said with a careless shrug. "I'm sure I don't have any idea."

Emmy kissed Daegon's cheek and hurried inside to find her cousin. Daegon thought about following, but discarded that notion as soon as it hit. This smelled of female business, and he was certain his presence would not be welcome. Better to let Emmy deal with it. He signaled a passing wench for ale, and sat by Bran.

"What's this with Emmy, then?" Bran asked, the seriousness of his expression taking Daegon by surprise. "I never figured you for settling down." He peered at his friend, noting how the ranger watched Emily through the open door of the inn, and nudged him. Daegon looked startled as he met Bran's knowing stare. "You've got it bad, brother," he observed with a wink. "Do I need to polish my armor for the ceremony?"

Daegon smiled slowly, with no hint of embarrassment. "Maybe."

"No maybe about it, I think," Bran grinned broadly. His eyes grew thoughtful. "I assume she knows?"

"Yeah," Daegon nodded. "She's tougher than she looks."

"So Glenna says, and she would know," Bran nodded sagely. "There's more to her than meets the eye, our Emily," he said with a short bark of laughter. "Saw that the minute I met her. I had a feeling you two would hit it off," he added, clapping Daegon on the shoulder companionably.

"You were right." And that was all he was willing to say. Bran raised his tankard in a friendly salute, and Daegon returned the gesture, taking a deep swallow of his ale. "She's going to make one hell of a ranger," he said abruptly.

"Really?" Bran didn't sound terribly surprised, and Daegon reflected on how often people underestimated his leader's perceptiveness. Big and genial in his manner, the warrior was far shrewder than most gave him credit for. Daegon filled him in on the last week's events, carefully edited.

"Can't wait to see her beat you in archery," Bran grinned wickedly, and Daeg laughed.

"She will, one of these days," he said with pride. "She's got a ways to go yet, but I expect she'll get there sooner than anyone would believe."

"All to the good for the party," Bran said with satisfaction. "Man, I love my life."

Daegon grinned.

"Emmy!" Glenna leaped to her feet when she saw her kinswoman enter the tavern, dashing over to throw her arms around Emily.

"Oof," Emily grunted with the force of Glenn's impact and hugged her back. "What's gotten into you?"

"I had a dream, a vision," Glenna explained, drawing Emmy over to where she and Fizzy had set up a table. "And you were in danger."

"Er, Glenn, sweetie, I'm a member of a party of adventurers, that sort of goes with the job," Emmy grinned. "Same one you belong to, remember? Hi Fizzy," she smiled and tossed a wave at the thief, taking a seat. Fitz grinned, and nodded around a mouthful of her lunch.

"Yeah, yeah," Glenna said impatiently. "This is serious."

"Okay," Emmy said, helping herself to the dishes scattered on the table. "Oh yum, Dinah's roast beef, I'm starved." She began to build a sandwich, drizzling a bit of gravy on warm slices of pink-tinged beef and adding some butter and grassy looking vegetation.

"Emmy!" Glenna snapped. "I saw you get abducted."

Emily paused her chewing and stared.

"I said it was important," Glenna scowled at her cousin. "Stay with someone at all times, okay? Don't be alone." She let that sink in, Emily swallowing and clearing her throat with a sip of ale. "Stick with Daegon," Glenna suggested. "He's very protective, and you seem to like him. He sure as hell likes you." She gave Emily a knowing grin, and she looked from Glenna to Fizzy, who gazed at her with friendly curiosity, nodding as if confirming Glenna's observation. Emily was too surprised to even blush.




Mate for Life



"Glenn, if this is some weird matchmaking scheme, don't bother," she said slowly. "I...."

"It's not," Glenn interrupted sincerely, and Emily suddenly realized that her cousin was honestly afraid for her. "It was real, Em, you get the same flashes sometimes, or you used to." She put a hand on Emily's arm, her face grave. "Please, just humor me. If you're embarrassed to ask Daegon to be your watchdog..." - Emmy almost choked at that - "...I'll talk to him for you, or with you."

"Glenn," Emily started to speak, but her cousin rolled right over her.

"I saw you out in a field somewhere, heard swordplay, and you had a bow for the gods' sake, how weird is that, and then things got foggy and you just weren't there," Glenna said in a rush. "I dragged Bran back as soon as I woke. Do you want me to talk to Daeg? I don't mind."

"Glenna, Daegon...." but Glenn yet again cut her off.

"He's a great guy, Em, and I saw how he looks at you, he's like a brother to me already, and..."

"GLENN!" Emily's voice rose to just short of a roar.

Glenna stopped and blinked at her. "What?"

Now that she had Glenna's attention, Emily suddenly had no idea what exactly to say. "Er, Daegon and I..."

"Hey, Glenn, what's this about Emmy being in danger? Bran said you were concerned," Daegon's voice broke into the conversation. He reached down, tugged Emily's hair gently to tilt her head back, and kissed her, drawing out the moment as she sighed into his mouth and his head swam. The kiss was as much for Glenn and Fizzy's benefit as Emmy's, but as always, just touching her tended to get out of hand. He pulled away with an effort, grinning as he caught Fizzy's eye and glimpsed Glenna's astonished face.

"I don't think Em's embarrassed to ask Daegon anything," Fizzy noted.

"When did this happen?!" Glenna blurted, looking from Emily to Daegon and back. "Emmy, you didn't say a thing!" she glared at her cousin accusingly.

"You were gone. It was kind of fast," Emily ignored her cousin's sputtering and calmly ate her lunch.

Daegon eyed the bread and meat and helped himself with a happy sort of growling sound. Spike plunked his head on Emmy's lap. A cat jumped onto her shoulder. Fizzy poured herself more ale from the pitcher on the table. Glenna stared.

"Daeg, does...." she began, and Daegon cut her off with a gesture, glaring. "Yes, of course. Sorry. You wouldn't.... I mean, you're a good guy and of course you would tell her before you...."

"Glenn, shut up," Emily said cheerfully. "Nobody wants to lose their appetite here."

Glenna grinned wickedly. "You're new to the group, Em. Trust me, that wouldn't happen." She looked at the couple and suddenly grinned even wider. "I knew it!" she crowed, leaping to her feet and hugging them both, causing Emily to almost drop her sandwich. "I knew you guys were perfect for each other!"

"How long have you been planning it, Glenn?" Emmy asked suspiciously.

"I wasn't, honest," Glenn said so sincerely Emily knew she was lying.

"Glenn..." Emmy said warningly, Daegon raising a brow at the cousins.

"I don't care," he assured Emmy. "I mean, she was right. And frankly, I could give a kobald's ass what anyone thinks," he kissed Emmy's nose whimsically. "End result is the same."

"Em, I wasn't really matchmaking," Glenna said, her tone not apologetic so much as earnest. "I just....well I remembered the animal thing, and Daegon here has his furry little problem..."

"It's not a problem!" Emily said so fiercely that Glenna blinked at her, mouth dropping open. Daeg stared too, restraining himself from making sappy declarations and ravaging her on the spot. Emily didn't seem to notice.

"Okay," Glenn said, regrouping with a nod. Fitz stifled a laugh. "Well, I just thought if it didn't work out, no problem, Daeg can get along with anyone. If it did, then you two would be really happy. Honest, I didn't get the idea until after you said you would meet us here."

Emily nodded and went back to her lunch. Daegon looked around the table thoughtfully. "So, the vision? Bran said he had promised to let you tell Emily, Glenn."

"Stick with her, Daeg. I don't know why or how, but I saw her abducted. Don't let her out of your sight. Keep her safe." Glenna was dead serious, and Daegon nodded slowly. Without changing her expression or tone, she continued. "And if you break her heart, I will make you wish you were dead. Understood?"

Daegon smiled, touched at her protectiveness. "Understood." He paused, taking Emmy's hand and kissing the back of it before looking at Glenn again. "What if she breaks mine?" he asked, half teasing, half curious.

"You'd deserve it," Glenn said promptly, her eyes twinkling. "Em's family." Her expression softened, and she touched his cheek as she rose, grabbing her pack. "But I'd kick her ass for it," she promised, and went to go join Bran out in the yard.

"I thought Dehn and Fizzy would never leave us alone," Emmy laughed softly as they bathed in the pool. "And Mendel! He's so quiet, and you can't tell at all what he's thinking. I think he hates taprooms more than you do."

"I don't hate them," Daegon protested. "I'd just rather be somewhere else. Mostly," he added fairly, ducking a splash Emmy aimed at him. "They're just trying to protect you, Em. Glenn obviously spread the word."

"It's very gallant of them," Emmy nodded, laying back and rinsing her hair free of soap. Daegon helpfully got behind her and massaged her scalp, teasing bubbles out of the long twisting locks. She practically purred at his touch, and he kissed her forehead. She turned and stood, her breasts bobbing in the water. Daegon watched them as she wrung water out of her hair, almost missing her next words. "....the practice field."

"Eh?" He dragged his gaze from her breasts.

"I said," she said patiently, a half smile lurking, "that it sounds as if the danger is at the practice field."

"You believe Glenna."

She looked at him in honest surprise. "Of course. Don't you?"

"I don't disbelieve," he hedged and raised a hand as Emily started to protest. "No, really, I trust Glenna, and I've seen weirder. I am totally behind adventurer's instinct and cleric's intuition. But visions often don't come true, precisely because they are listened to, and therefore we're warned, and danger is averted."

Emily looked satisfied with his explanation, nodding and pursing her lips. "So, because she's warned us, you don't think it will happen?"

"Something like that." He pulled her closer, kissing random bits of her face and neck, grinning to himself as she shivered and her scent rose, even in the middle of a pool. "We'll be alert for danger, and whoever was targeting you won't get an opening," he said with confidence.

"I'm sure you're right," Emmy agreed, slipping her arms around his neck and kissing him back. "I just don't like the idea of someone watching me at all. And I'm worried that someone will get hurt trying to keep me safe," she added softly.

"Someone being me?" Daegon asked, gathering her up and carrying her out of the pool. Emmy nodded. "I can take care of myself," he assured her.

"I know, but..." Daegon silenced her protest with one large finger over her lips.

"No fretting," he said, half an order. She looked at him, briefly mutinous, but he stared her down and she finally nodded again.

It was a warm day, and both of them were dry in minutes. Neither of them bothered with clothes; the grove was secluded and the likelihood of being barged in on was slim to none. Never had he been more glad to have found this place. Emmy seemed to belong here as much as he did. He loved watching her in the nude, small and round with her ivory skin limmed in golden sunlight. She was combing her hair, which would curl as much as Glenna's if it wasn't so long. As it was, natural ringlets fell almost to her waist, and combing the mass while wet was a real chore, judging by her face. Without comment, he took the comb from her and gently started combing out the tangles. She sighed happily and relaxed, closing her eyes as he teased the wooden comb through the knots.

"Daeg?"

"Yes?" He grabbed a lock to lessen the tug on her scalp and managed to yank a stubborn snarl free.

"Have you ever..." she stopped, biting her lip and looking at him over her shoulder.

He paused his combing and looked back inquiringly. "Have I what?"

"In your other forms, have you..." she suddenly blushed, and he understood. His eyes shuttered.

"Technically, once each," he said calmly, resuming his task. There was a long silence. Daegon finished with her hair and admired the dark red, a pillar of fire in the sun. Her quiet was equal parts curiosity and embarrassment, he could smell it. "Very few know about me," he patted her shoulder and she turned, meeting his eyes. She nodded. "And I master the beast, not the other way around," he continued, watching her closely. "I've been with human women, more than a few. None of them knew, and I didn't care to share that with them." He paused, seeing the realization in her eyes. "Yeah, you're the first."

"Oh," she said, her voice very small, but her eyes lit up. "That's...wow." She swallowed, and touched his face. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"For what?" Daegon tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled.

"Trusting me," she said simply.

"Honestly, Em, I don't think I have a choice there," Daegon said a little ruefully. "You're the only woman I've ever met that my wolf likes as much as I do," he chuckled wryly at that, and she grinned.

"I'm glad of that," she said sincerely. "But you said..." she bit her lip again, seeing his face darken. "It's none of my business," she said hastily. "I'm sorry I asked."

"Nah, you should know," he shrugged, but the tension in his body was unmistakable. Emmy took his hand and kissed it, then moved close, cuddling as he put his arms around her. "I guess you could call it rape," he said a bit harshly. "It was bloodlust, not sex."

She went very still, but didn't try to move out of his embrace. Looking into his eyes, Emily saw the pain and said very softly, "Tell me. Please."

Daegon searched her face, then nodded, taking a deep breath. "It was a couple years ago," he began, easing her off his lap and tossing Emily her robe. She drew it on as he slid into his own clothes, belting it loosely and watching his agitated movements. "We were tracking a band that had been slaughtering travelers, and I was in wolf form. I track fine in human, but pick up scent much better as wolf, and they were very good at covering their tracks," he explained. Emmy nodded, listening. "I knew two were lycans; the scent was unmistakable. The other three didn't matter; Bran and the rest could dispatch them with no trouble at all, if we could catch up. It was the lycans that mattered. They had the brains and the will." Daegon got up and began pacing, Emily watching him quietly. "But they had caught my scent too, and managed to set up a trap. Literally. I burst into a clearing, ahead of my party, and narrowly avoided running right into a hunter's wolf trap."

Emily gasped, eyes round. "They kept traps on them?"

"I never did find if that was the case, or they simply knew where hunters set some up," Daegon shrugged. "I smelled iron and somehow jumped out of it before it snapped shut. They were so surprised they hesitated, and I tore the leader's throat out." He looked at Emily, who was nodding slowly, obviously affected by the image but not seeming overly repulsed. "He was a were, a wolf like me, but evil to the bone. And his mate was no better. She saw me kill him, changed to full wolf, and ran, leaving the rest of her party to die. Bran and the rest were only a few minutes away, and I knew it, so I ran after her, knowing my party could track the others. I caught her about two miles deeper in the woods. She was fast, and knew the woods, but...." he swallowed, not meeting Emmy's eyes. "Her scent was full of fear, and.....lust. It was like a drug, I'd never smelled one of my kind like that before, and it went straight to my head and twisted it."

Emmy got up and caught his chin in her fingers, catching his eye with a piercing look. "She would have killed you, and all your friends, without a backward look," she said fiercely. "Don't you dare beat yourself up for it."

"I don't, not for that," Daegon said quietly. "But I lost it, completely, utterly lost control, and took her, raped her, while I wanted to tear her into little pieces." He pushed Emily's hand away and turned, stepping away, his shoulders shaking. He wasn't crying, she could tell that much. It was worse; he was frightened, and disgusted with himself.

"Tell me what happened," she said, her voice low but carrying. "You didn't tell anyone, did you?"

"No." His voice was bleak. "How could I? They trust me, all of them, Glenna and Bran and the rest, even knowing what I am. I couldn't bear to see them afraid of me."

"You can tell me," Emmy whispered, sliding her arms around him and leaning her cheek against his back. He trembled under her touch, his breathing ragged. She waited patiently, holding him, and he continued, his voice raw.

"She changed. I had my teeth at her neck, holding her down, and she changed to half-wolf, throwing me off her. And ran again, laughing. It was then that I realized that she had baited me, wanted me to fuck her, use her. I'd killed her mate, ripped his throat out, I could still taste the blood in my teeth, and she wanted the victor, the stronger. And I wanted it. I wanted her." Daegon turned, pulling Emily's arms away from him, gripping her wrists, looking down into her shocked face. "You see? The bloodlust had risen, and it had me, and so did she. But she made a mistake," he said, stepping back and pacing again, faster this time, as if to run from the memory. "She didn't try to get away. I changed too, I was so enthralled with it all that I did it without thinking, without really knowing I meant to, and I didn't feel the pain at all. Changing usually hurts, like someone tearing your guts from the inside out, but I've never changed so quick before or since. I chased her down, and she was taunting me, and then ran so fast I lost track for a moment. But her scent was strong, so strong and full of lust and hate and blood that I..." he stopped and swallowed, shaking his head. "I found her, and she was waiting, on her knees and looking at me over her shoulder. I didn't think. I just took her." He finally stopped his futile pacing and looked at Emily, his face stark. "I had enough of me left to know it felt amazing," he said hoarsely. "But that...that feeling snapped me out of it, and....." he closed his eyes, clearly getting a hold of himself. "I killed her, just like I had her mate, but I was still in her. She was so surprised that I did it. I killed her because I knew it was what I could have been."

"But you're not," Emily said quietly. "You're not evil, not even a little bit."

"No. I'm not. I get that," he said, his smile shaky. "But I stay away as much as possible when I have to be wolf. I can't risk it. And I never want to feel that twisted need again, ever. It was at that moment I knew how much beast I really am."

"Daegon..." She didn't know what to say. Emily looked at him, really looked, and saw the pain and uncertainty and fear, and smiled sadly. "Were you born, or made?" she asked suddenly.

"Born," Daegon answered, surprised at the question. "Made usually can't become full wolf. Neither of my parents were, as far as I know."

"You're certain?" Emily asked with interest, taking his hand and seating them in a patch of fading sunlight. Twilight was coming. "Didn't you tell me that you were orphaned young?"

"Yeah, I was," Daegon confirmed, hesitating before he sat. He watched Emily's face and saw no censure or disgust, and began to hope. "But it was my grandparents that raised me from there, and grandfather that taught me forestry. I think if lycanthropy ran in the family, he'd've said."

"Unless it was your mother's side," Emily pointed out. "He might not have known, if it was your mother."

"Maybe not. I've wondered," he said, his voice low, obviously thinking. "I changed the first time when I was sixteen."

"And you didn't tell your grandparents?" It was half a question, and he smiled.

"Actually, I did," he said, surprising her. "Granddad looked me over, told me to make sure I don't ruin all my clothes, Grandma wouldn't be happy, and that was that. He told Grandma, but she never treated me different. The following full moon, she smiled at me when I headed out the door to the woods, and said that she'd see me in a few days, and bring back some rabbits if I can catch them. But we never really talked about it." He smiled at the memory. "They died about six years later, Gran first, just fell asleep and didn't wake up. A week later, Granddad died too, same way. And I started adventuring."

"It happens like that, sometimes," Emily said quietly. "How long were they married?"

"Over fifty years, I think. Gran was Granddad's world. I wasn't surprised when he followed her," Daegon smiled sadly. "But neither of them seemed bothered by my being...what I am." He paused, his face sobering. "Most of the time, I'm not either."

"You shouldn't be," Emily said firmly, wrapping her arms around him. "It's a wonderful thing, not something to be ashamed of. It must be..." she stilled at looked up at him, her face suddenly uncertain. "Is it lonely?" she whispered.

"It used to be," he said quietly, kissing her softly and smiling. "Not so much, now."

He smile was as bright as the sun, and he held her tightly, inhaling her scent. He frowned a little as desire was suffused with the coppery flavor that he recognized all too well.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, a little sharper than he meant to. He set her at arm's length, frowning suspiciously. To his shock, she blushed and looked away. "You're not thinking...Em, that's crazy!" Daegon looked genuinely horrified.

"Well, why wouldn't I?" she countered, his vehemence absurdly making her braver. "I think you're beautiful, Daeg. All of you. Not just the human parts."

"I don't know what would happen, Emmy," Daegon said fiercely, letting go her hands. "You don't. I could go crazy. I could kill you. I'm already insane around you. And I'm much stronger....half wolf is crazy strong, and you're...you..."

"You don't know that," Emily said stubbornly. "I'm not afraid, and I love you."

He went very still. She stared at him calmly, though he could smell that she was as surprised as he was. He took a deep breath.

"You didn't have to say that."

"No, I didn't. But I do. I love you, Daegon, and I don't care if you don't love me back. That's fine. And you'd never hurt me." She stood there, defiant and stubborn and unafraid, and he wanted to kiss her or throttle her, he wasn't sure which.

"You crazy woman, of course I love you, that's not the point!" he snarled. "It's because I love you that I can't do it!"

She beamed at him, her eyes shining, and leaped into his arms. "You do? Really?"

He caught her by reflex, his wolf sitting up and sniffing the air. "Yes," he growled, holding her close and wanting to shake her. "You're insane."

"Yes," she said happily, kissing him all over his face. "But it's a good crazy."

"It's dangerous, and stupid, and insane," Daegon insisted, trying to fend off her kisses and failing. "I won't."

"You can," she insisted. "Daeg, if what you say is true, that I attract and control animals.... well, I'm not saying I can control you, or want to, but...don't you think it would keep you from hurting me?" She paused, peering earnestly into his face. "You smell like mine, and I know I smell different to you, from anyone else...you couldn't hurt me, I know it. And...." she stopped again, her expression serious, "...I think you need to know it, too."




Mate for Life



"It's not worth the risk," Daegon said, his mouth set in a mulish line. "I could infect you, have you thought of that?"

She laughed, making him scowl at her. "Daeg, I'm a cleric. I know how to counter lycanthropy. I spent the last three years learning how to heal magical wounds and afflictions, and perfecting that art. You couldn't make me wolfie if you tried." She grinned as his resolve wavered. "Look, I have scrolls of extra-intense healing, even you could use them. Just in case," she said gently. "But I don't think we'll need them."

"Emmy, I can't." He tried to turn away, but she grabbed his hand and held him fast. "I just...Emmy, don't!"

She had let go of his hand and took her robe off, standing in the fading light like a goddess, all creamy skin and wild red hair. Seeing his face change, she stepped closer, letting her scent fill his nostrils, and smiled as he growled. "I can't be like you," she whispered, running her hands over his chest, slipping under his tunic, her touch warm and inviting. "I can't change into something powerful and beautiful and deadly and wonderful like you can. But I'm your mate. I know I am, or I wouldn't be able to smell you the way I can."

He looked at her, astonished, and grasped her hands under his tunic to still them. "What did you say?"

"I'm your..."

"No, about smelling me. You mean you don't do that with everyone?" His brows were drawn together, a peculiar look on his face. "I thought..." He stopped and cleared his throat. "You said that, the day I changed for you. I thought it was a spell or something, or you just detected changes in pheromones, like I do. You mean you don't usually do it?"

"No," she said, shaking her head in puzzlement. "I thought it was odd too, but you'd been saying I was a ranger, and I was getting used to being followed by animals again, and....well, I guess I just thought it had something to do with that. But then I noticed it only happened when I was with you. And I wondered why, until just now, when something just....clicked."

"And you didn't mention it why?"

"I meant to," she defended herself. "It just didn't come up." She paused. "What does it mean? Am I right?"

He didn't speak for a long moment, just cupped her face in his hand and looked at her, his eyes soft and full of wonder. "Emmy, I thought mate that first raid, when I was on watch. I pushed it away, because I couldn't believe it was true, it must be..." He smiled a bit crookedly. "I put it down to lust and wishing." He stepped away and removed his tunic and pants, tossing them after her robe.

"But....you hadn't even kissed me yet," she blurted.

"I didn't need to," he answered, smiling. "I smelled it." He crooked a finger at her. "Come here. I want to kiss you while I still can."

She laughed, all the tension between them shattering with that singular sweet sound, and he kissed her, deep and long and sweet, and she melted against him. Then his power washed over the both of them, rolling like thunder, and she gasped as he pulled away, the air shimmering and sparking with energy. He stood, large and furry and beautiful, howling as the pain released, and opened his arms. She gladly stepped into them, pulled off her feet and held tight, his tongue caressing her jaw, large paw like hands cupping her body, squeezing gently, caressing.

He tried to be gentle, to go slow and not frighten her, but the copper scent rose equal to her mate-scent, and she would have none of it. Emmy wriggled out of his arms, taking his hand and pulling him down with her, utterly unafraid and eager, and he lost himself in her scent and skin and softness. She opened to him, and he licked all down her body, lapping at that intoxicating scent where it was strongest, and she moaned, bucking her hips, cumming so quick it took his breath away. He drank her juices, wanting to hear her moan again, and her nails dug into his head, her body spasming so hard she almost threw him off her. Daegon laughed with joy, holding her down and nuzzling up to nip at her breasts, tongue outlining her nipples, rough on her smooth skin, and she begged him to go harder. His growl was deep in his chest, primal and feral and wild, and her scent rose higher, making him dizzy and drunk with her.

"Now," she breathed, clawing at his back, and he rammed home, hard and fast, and she moaned, wrapping all her softness and need around him like a blanket.

Then he had a burning tornado in his arms, bucking and clawing and moaning, and his beast rose, clawing and licking the sting away, her need and his joining, burning like a bonfire as the sun faded from the sky. He felt her climax over and over, screaming his name, urging him faster, harder. He got his legs under him, scooping her up as if she weighed nothing, pulling out of her over her protests, and growled "Run."

She hesitated a split second, then sniffed deeply, a huge reckless smile breaking over her face, and without a word, ran like crazy across the clearing, heading for the trees. He caught her in two bounding strides, his weight pinning her to the grass, the feel of her writhing under him almost as heady as her scent. Gripping her wrists to hold them flat on the ground, he drew back and plunged into her hot slickness, his growl more a moan as she came immediately, clenching around his cock. He couldn't go easy if he tried, he wanted her so badly, needed her, and she slammed back as he took her, his lust an inferno, his cock a flame buried in her heat. Then they were bound together, the knot pushing inside, she could feel it, heavy and huge, stretching her tight, rubbing against nerves she didn't know she had, and she sobbed with pleasure, the pain only intensifying her need. He erupted, spurting hot and thick inside her, throbbing as he howled, crushing her to him, his roar echoing her own keening cry. He knew he wouldn't be able to pull out, and didn't try, pulling her even closer, the soft fur on his palms caressing her breasts, petting her skin as she shuddered. She was mostly on his lap now, his chin on her shoulder, tongue lolling as he panted in her ear, gradually regaining control. He felt himself shift again, not realizing he had meant to, and came back, feeling her quiver and moan once more.

And it didn't hurt at all.

Daegon was unwilling to admit out loud how scared he was of losing Emmy for any reason. He had meant it when he had told Emily that he believed forewarned is forearmed, but as the days passed, he could not shake a sense of deepening unease. He began to consider Glenna's vision far more seriously, taking precautions based on what she had seen, and encouraging Emmy to do the same. The most obvious change in his and Emmy's routine was that they had stopped using the armory's archery range to practice. By unspoken consent, they stuck to using the butts behind the tavern, or the trees in Daeg's grove. Emmy's skill had grown at a dizzying speed. He had expanded her training; teaching her to move silently in any environment, blend into the shadows, and how to spot traps. She was like a sponge, soaking up his instruction seeming without effort. Only the scent of her sweat told him how much energy she was expending to learn. It wasn't that she was finding it difficult, she admitted when he questioned her.

"Dad thought I'd be good at it, and...maybe I'm a little angry with Mama," Emmy confessed as they lay under the stars, sated and drowsy. Her head was on his chest, one finger tracing patterns on his skin. Daegon placed a kiss on her curls and growled contentedly, encouraging her to continue. "I guess I try so hard partly to prove she was wrong. I understand, I do...but to hold me back..." She sighed and sat up, looking earnestly at his face in the light of the three-quarter moon. "I feel like she denied me half of what I am. Is that awful?"

"No," Daegon said, reaching up to cup one cheek with his hand. "It's understandable that you feel a bit cheated. But...your mother raised you as she thought right. Were you unhappy? Neglected? Unloved?" He pulled her down for a searching kiss, and she sighed into his mouth.

"No," she admitted, resuming her snuggling. "Of course not."

"You're an amazing cleric," Daegon pointed out. "One of the best I've ever encountered. And you seem to love it."

"I do," Emmy said earnestly. "To help people heal, know that I can connect to Her and channel that divine grace....there's nothing like it," she said softly. "It's not the power, it's...well, okay, the power is a rush, sure," she said wryly, seeing Daegon's lifted brow. "But I've always felt a connection to Selune, heard her whisper in my head, and known I was Hers. What I do isn't me, I'm just a conduit for Her will. All Mama did was help me strengthen that, show me how to give my whole heart to Her." Emily sighed, a sound that seemed to come from her very soul. "I expect I'll have to pray harder for forgiveness for my anger, and to forgive Mama."

"You will," Daegon said with assurance. "It's not in you to hold grudges against family."

"I notice you don't say it's not in my nature to hold grudges at all," Emmy teased, half-seriously.

Daegon grinned. "I'm not that big a fool," he laughed. "I don't think you normally would, but Gods help anyone that crossed you."

"Maybe," Emily grinned impishly. She looked at him, her expression growing more serious. "I had no idea what I could be, until you saw it," she said very quietly. "And I feel like Dad is watching, and approves, and..." she bit her lip, her eyes shining. "I want him to be proud of me. But more than that, I want you to be."

"I'd be proud of you no matter what," Daegon assured her. "This shouldn't be about me at all." He paused. "Or about your dad," he said gently.

"I know that, but I can't help but feel it anyway."

Emily lay very still in his arms, her breathing slow and barely audible. She looked into the shadows and saw several sets of eyes gleaming under bushes and in trees, watching her. She inhaled, scenting a squirrel, a fox, a rabbit, and a wolf, smiling to herself. Daegon caught the shift in her scent as she concentrated, calling them to her. He had not needed to train her to charm animals, only helped her learn how to do it at will rather than unconsciously. In a moment, they had four furry companions invading their makeshift bed made of their blankets and cloaks, nosing at them both. The rabbit hopped right onto Emmy's chest, nuzzling under her chin, and she pet it with tender delight. The wolf, more wary than the rest, sniffed at Daegon and rolled onto his back, baring neck and belly to the Alpha he sensed. Once receiving Daegon's approval, he practically crawled over his chest to reach Emily, who laughed and pet him before firmly pushing him off her lover. The wolf whined and crawled to their feet, resting his nose on his paws, watching them worshipfully. The fox had curled into a fuzzy ball next to Emmy's hip, and the squirrel chittered, quite put out to be neglected. Emmy chuckled and proffered a finger. The rodent sniffed it and offered her an acorn. She put out her palm, and the creature dropped the nut into her hand, then skittered up to rest on her shoulder. A few more small animals joined them, arraying themselves as close as they could. Daegon stifled a snort of laughter.

"You love this," he said, fending off the attentions of a young fox kit. In the manner of teenagers of any species, it huffed with impatience and sat a short distance from them both, eyeing them with affected disinterest. "You were born to it."

"Yes," Emily said simply. "I never really thought about how animals react to me before, but now...it's a big responsibility, I see that now. I can't ignore it anymore, and I want to learn as much as I can. I didn't realize the sheer power of it, and I..." she bit her lip again. "I can't let them down."

"You do realize they," Daegon waved a hand at the forest creatures draped around, "won't know or care, right?" he said reasonably, watching her reaction.

"Yeah, I do." Emily paused, looking away, gathering her thoughts. "But I do. And She does."

"Exactly."

"Emmy, there's a strange guy asking about you," Fizzy warned her as she and Daegon returned to the tavern. "He's still in there, looks like another ranger type, but who knows? After what Glenn saw, I don't trust anyone."

"Did he say what he wanted?" Daegon asked sharply, echoing Emily's "What does he want?"

"He says he's family," Fitz shrugged, looking between the two of them with a worried air. "And I guess he could be, he looks a little like you, Em. But he won't say how he's related or...." she trailed off as Emily's eyes grew round, no longer focused on Fizzy but a point over her shoulder.

Emily squealed loudly and dashed headlong into the arms of a man who was indeed dressed in the casual leathers favored by rangers. He had a top-quality bow slung over his back, and a quiver that looked as if it took abuse without a twitch. Adventurer, Daeg would bet his canines on it. And currently picking up Emmy, swinging her around with familiar ease as she laughed and clung to him. Daegon tried very hard not to growl and spring at the stranger. The urge to rip his throat out flared, but Daegon reined it in, examining this possible rival through narrowed eyes as he approached, trying not to glower. He forced his face into an expression of pleasant curiosity.

"Daeg! Can you believe it?" Emily's face was shining, and Daegon couldn't help but smile to see her so happy.

"I'm sure I can't," he agreed, looking at the much shorter man and offering his hand. He looked about half a head or so taller than Emily, which put him about the same shorter than Daegon, who tried not to feel smug about it. He was handsome in a non-descript, pleasant way, with dark brown hair and eyes and a straight-backed, compact grace that made him look taller than he was.

Then the stranger gripped his arm, clasping wrists, greeting dying in his throat as a jerk of electricity shot between them. The grip became a power struggle as the newcomer shoved Emily behind him, his gaze narrowing. Daegon felt his wolf howl involuntarily, but managed to keep the sound internal, tightening his grip to just short of crushing. The man grunted, his scowl deepening.

"Em, get everyone out of here," the brown-eyed man said very calmly.

"I'm not what you think," Daegon said with equal calm.

"You sure as hell are," snarled the ranger. "Em, go!"

"Taris, stop it," Emily said irritably. "Daegon's okay. No evil, which you'd sense if you'd stop thinking with your nose. Daeg, this is my brother. Do I have to stun you both, or are you going to behave?" She glared at them impartially.

"Pleased to meet you," Daegon offered, not easing his grip as Taris hadn't. Daegon approved; if their positions were reversed, he wouldn't have let up either. Then something Emily had said registered, and he blurted, "He can smell me too? What is it, a family talent?"

"Well, no," Taris said, looking at Daegon with marginally less suspicion. "I just have a talent for sensing animals...you mean Em can smell you?"

"Long story," Daegon shrugged, grinning. "Your sister has many talents."

Taris gave him a long assessing look, and Daegon felt a slight tingle as the other man shifted his senses, his face registering surprise. "You're right, Emmy, he's not evil."

"Well of course I'm right, moron," Emily made the insult sound endearing. "Are you two done, or should I get a chamber pot?"

Daegon had been so intent on his exchange with Taris he hadn't noticed until now that she, Mendel, and Dehn had quietly ringed the three of them, tensed and ready. Fitz grinned and made a rude comment about pissing contests, and everyone relaxed. The tension broken, introductions were made and ale ordered, as the six went inside and found a corner to chat.

"I got your letter, Em," Taris explained, sipping his tankard. He raised a brow at the casual arm Daegon slung around his sister but made no comment. "Where's Glenna?"

"Due back any minute," Dehn announced cheerfully. "We agreed to meet back here today."

The ranger nodded, taking another swallow of ale. "I stopped by to see Mother," Taris reported, and Emily smiled. "She's doing well, and sends her love. Rhys and Tasha are with her, and have set up a training hall. You should visit," he admonished gently.

"I plan to, soon," Emmy promised. "How are the girls?"

"Growing like weeds and tormenting their parents," Taris grinned. "Cormac and Sylvie are thinking of joining the business, hauling their four hooligans along. Mama will be in raptures."

"Six grandkids to spoil on a daily basis? Of course. And did she scold you for not settling down yet?" Emmy smiled and sipped her tea, Spike resting his head in her lap.

"Same as always," Taris said ruefully.

"Taris is the eldest," Emmy explained impishly, grinning at her brother. "Mama is of the opinion he should be married and respectable by now."

"Gods help you, brother," Mendel said with feeling.

"Protective Mum, eh?" Dehn grinned broadly at Mendel. "And here I thought you sprang forth from Mystra's head, full grown."

Mendel gave Dehn a speaking look and sipped his wine without further comment. Taris grinned.

"Mothers are universal," he quipped. "A blessing and a plague to their children. Gods love 'em all."

"Here, here," Fizzy toasted, and everyone laughed. "Three brothers, Emmy?" She asked with interest.

"Four," Emily sighed theatrically. "All quite a bit older than me. Evean is the youngest, nine years my senior. Then Cormac, three years over him, Rhys next, two years older, and Taris here, eldest by four summers."

"And Em's the baby," Taris concluded comfortably. "The accident of the family."

"Oh, give over Tarry," Em chuckled, watching him wince at the childhood nickname. "You're just jealous I got all the attention."

"Nah, just remembering all the scrapes we dug you and Glenn out of," Taris countered. "Until you married Garrick, anyway. Then it was his problem."

"So where's Evean?" Daegon asked curiously, to cover the brief silence the mention of Emmy's late husband invoked.

"Probably with some tavern wench, or dicing, or raising hell in a dungeon somewhere," Taris shrugged. "He doesn't keep in touch much. I'd worry if he wasn't one of the luckiest bastards I've ever met," he added with brotherly unconcern.

"I miss Ev," Emmy said softly. "But I did wonder sometimes if he was a changeling." She finished her tea and poured another, scratching Spike behind the ears.

Daegon looked between the siblings and burst into uproarious laughter.

"Em, you're mutt's laughing at you," Taris signaled for more ale.

"I'm pretty sure it's you he's laughing at. And he's not a mutt." Emmy corrected with a warning scowl.

"Actually, it's both of you," Glenna snickered, catching the last of the conversation as she and Bran grabbed chairs. "Hey, Tanny, good to see you." She pecked her cousin on the cheek and sat. "But Em's right, Daeg's not a mutt. Show some respect."

"I notice no one's disputing he's Emmy's," Taris said with some annoyance. Daegon stopped laughing, and the rest of the party stared.

Emmy cleared her throat, and Daegon was pleased to see she wasn't blushing. She looked on the verge of ripping her brother's face off.

"As a matter of fact...." She began hotly.

"Yes, I am," Daegon said calmly, meeting Taris' eyes squarely. "If she'll have me." He took Emily's hand and kissed it, not looking away from her brother.

"I see," Taris studied Daegon's face a long moment, then looked at his sister.

"Not. One. Word." Emmy warned. Taris grinned.

"Well, it figures Emmy'd find a wild one," he chuckled. "But you seem all right. Mind you, there's four of us," he gave a half-serious scowl. "She is our baby sister, you know."