Blood Ties

Flickering firelight cast lively shadows across the camp, its warm glow driving off the chill of night in the high desert. Morwyn sat on a bed of dried needles with with her back against the trunk of a massive pine whose branches blotted out many of the stars overhead, one hand softly stroking Hazel's hair as the halfling rested on her lap. An tender smile turned up the corner of Morwyn's mouth as she admired the serene, unbothered curves of Hazel's face in repose. She traced a finger across her brow, down her nose, across her cheek. Not quite asleep but not fully awake, Hazel nuzzled into the contact with a contented sigh that made Morwyn's heart ache with affection.

How far I've come since we met, she mused. I hardly recognize myself.

It felt strange that she'd ever been afraid to let herself be loved by this woman who gave it so fearlessly and received it so readily in kind. It was uncomplicated regardless of the myriad of reasons that it should be, by sheer force of the halfling's stubborn willingness to accept her for who she was rather than despite it. Her old heartaches were not erased but rather felt distant and diminished, no longer holding the power they once had over her heart and mind. As they sat on the precipice of their journey's end Morwyn allowed herself something she had never done before.

She'd dreamed of it, had hoped for it, but now she could finally plan for a future with someone who dared to share her love in equal measure.

The overwhelming emotions that flowed through her as she watched the soft rise and fall of Hazel's chest nearly overpowered the persistent pain in Morwyn's stomach that reminded her that she hadn't eaten properly in many days. The hunger could only be endured, not dismissed, but she'd gone through longer periods of deprivation. The days of dwindling rations as they crossed the remainder of the Badlands had been nothing compared to that first harsh winter after her family's exile. Knowing the agony of watching her nieces and nephews grow frightfully gaunt before the break of spring, she'd been more than willing to give up many of her own meals to keep the children of the caravan properly fed.

Careful not to disturb Hazel's respite, Morwyn retrieved her canteen and fumbled with the stopper with one hand before taking a long drink to try and trick her stomach into feeling full. She set it back against her pack and sighed contentedly, closing her eyes and taking in the earthy scent of the pine forest. It was good to be in the mountains again, ones that were certainly less hostile than the last. For the first time in an uncountable number of years she felt truly at peace. It was little wonder that Rennock and his kin had chosen to call this land their home.

Morwyn found herself drifting into an almost meditative state as she listened to the babbling of a nearby creek, the cheery crackle of the fire, the hushed conversations and laughter of her companions on the surround. Her focus drifted from one to the next, identifying the source by their voices alone. Trux gave Gildur a gentle ribbing over the quality of his stew, which was little more than a broth due to its lack of substance. Eronir tested the meter of a line of poetry under his breath to a pleased affirmation from Yvonne. Samuel led the other children in some sort of game and was hushed by Lily and the other parents when they grew a little too boisterous. The caravan, though sore and exhausted and far fewer in number than when it had set out, distinctly lacked the irritability and despair that Morwyn would've expected before she'd come to know them. These were strong folk, resilient beyond all expectation, and had grown into a family through shared adversity.

Though they hadn't yet reached the Vale, Morwyn knew that she would be at home wherever she was, as long as she was with them.

In the midst of her calm reflections, the hair on the back of Morwyn's neck stood on end at the sensation that something was watching her. Not from the front but from the side, somewhere in the darkness beyond the firelight. There was something familiar about the presence, at once both deeply sinister and strangely comforting. She chuckled to herself and lazily opened her eyes, leaning her head back against the trunk of the tree as she turned to face the deep shadows of the forest to her left.

“Hello, Argoth. Back from your patrol?”

The orc grinned as he approached, his massive boots making almost no noise despite his bulk and the dried twigs that should've snapped loudly beneath them. The man was uncanny.

“Aye, all clear nearby. Ren's also back from his scoutin' and wants to speak with us. There's a few things to discuss before we enter the Vale tomorrow.”

Morwyn glanced down to Hazel when the halfling stirred on her lap. Despite Argoth's attempt to keep his tone low, his rumbling voice had been enough to rouse her. She rubbed her eyes and sat up with a yawn, leaning one shoulder against Morwyn's chest as she looked up at Argoth.

“Mmmkay. Gimme a minute,” she grumbled tiredly.

Argoth shifted his weight from one foot to the other and gave Morwyn an uncertain look. He cleared his throat and tucked his thumbs into his sash.

“Well, you see, this is meant be a private conversation...”

Hazel rose unsteadily to her feet and stretched her arms above her head before planting her fists firmly on her hips and facing Argoth down.

“Right. A private conversation that I'll be sure to keep between the four of us. I'm tired of being left in the dark, guessing at what will come next.”

Her tone brooked no argument. Argoth looked helplessly to Morwyn for support but she hesitated. Guessing at the subject of discussion to be had, she weighed the urgent need for secrecy against her desire to share everything with Hazel. After a moment of awkward silence, she rose and gently took Hazel's hand.

“I want her there. Ren will understand.”

Argoth let out a huff of consternation but was apparently unwilling to argue with both women at once. He shook his head and beckoned for them to follow him before disappearing back into the shadows. Morwyn and Hazel followed slowly at first, picking their way cautiously through the fallen branches and scattered underbrush until their eyes adjusted to the absence of firelight. The orc led them some distance from the camp until they reached a clearing littered by several moss covered boulders. Rennock leaned against the largest, his silhouette exposed by the patchy beams of moonlight that managed to make their way through the canopy far above. The old wizard bowed his head to them as they approached and he beckoned them closer.

“Ah, Miss Willowbend. I guessed that Miss Shrike would want you to accompany her for this conversation. I am sure this is of great interest to you, given how close you two have grown.”

Hazel elbowed Argoth in the side of his leg. Though he didn't move at the impact in the slightest, he let out an exasperated exhale through his broad nose.

“I'm glad you're alright,” Morwyn said hurriedly before the others could escalate their disagreement. “You've been gone for days. Any sign of the mage?”

Rennock shook his head, though he looked contemplative and stroked his beard for a moment before responding.

“None whatsoever. I do believe our duel at the mountain pass discouraged them from further intervention. That does not mean they will never try again, but I sincerely doubt they would make attempts on your life while at the Vale. It is too well protected. Were you to leave our boundaries, however...”

Hazel held her silence but the way her hand clenched against hers told Morwyn that the reminder of the threat to her life both startled and concerned the halfling. Morwyn glanced to Argoth, who leaned against the stone with his arms crossed an and expressionless face.

“I understand. And... does he know about the rest?” Morwyn let the question drift off and hang in the chill air along with her breath. Rennock shook his head in the negative.

“Only what is required for our safety, nothing more. I trust that you have kept the same discretion with Miss Willowbend?”

“I have,” Morwyn replied, giving Hazel's hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “She knows of the danger, but neither the extent nor the reason.”

“And I don't care,” Hazel cut in abruptly. Her face reddened slightly and she stumbled over her words as she continued. “I mean, I do care. A great deal actually. But I'm not about to let her... uh... inconvenient ancestry push me away. Any threat to her is a threat to us both.”

Rennock broke into a broad smile and his eyes regained some of the twinkle they'd lost in recent days. Argoth let out a low chuckle at the halfling's decisiveness.

“For that I am glad,” Rennock said, casting a proud gaze between the two women. “The uncertainty of the days to come will be easier to bear with such a bond to strengthen your resolve. Fortune smiles upon us all that you have found your way to each other.”

Despite the encouragement of his words, the gravity behind them made Morwyn's blood run cold. She was starkly reminded of a very uncomfortable truth. There would be no normal life for her when they reached their destination, no peacefully wiling away the days in comfort and security. There was still so much they didn't know, and each question was likely to be as dangerous as the answer.

“That brings us to the meat of the problem,” Argoth rumbled. “For your safety, as well as that of the Vale, we need to keep Morwyn's true nature under lock and key. There's just about nothin' in the world I hate more than lyin', but if nobody has reason to ask in the first place, we're all better off. You get me?”

Morwyn swallowed hard and nodded, at once grateful and apprehensive that Argoth was at least partially informed on her circumstance. For a brief moment she wondered who would deal with her if her powers got out of control, the orc or the old wizard. She knew that if it came down to it she couldn't resist either of them, either with magic or with the sword. Would she even want to? If she was that much of a danger to the others, wouldn't it be better to have them end it before she caused collateral damage? Shrugging off the dark thoughts, she cleared her throat and spoke again.

“Crystal clear. Our lips are sealed.”

Argoth nodded again, then his face softened with empathy.

“It ain't easy to know your very existence is a threat. Been there myself... but if it makes you feel any better, I was able to reign in my own darkness with Ren's guidance. If anyone can help you, its me and the old man here. We'll figure things out.”

Hazel raised a concerned brow toward Argoth, but addressed Rennock.

“So, we all know Morwyn is in danger, or perhaps is the danger, or both. Probably both. But my question is, what can we do about it?”

Rennock chuckled and tucked his hands into his opposite sleeves, looking all the more like a wise old wizard by doing so.

“Straight to the point as always, Miss Willowbend. Our approach will be threefold. Miss Shrike, I would like to guide you in learning to understand and control your magic and- pardon my bluntness- will investigate the circumstances of your birth and what it might mean on the larger scale. In the meantime, Argoth has volunteered to provide a means for you to safely vent your power so that it does not overwhelm you.”

“And the third approach?” Morwyn asked with a raised brow. Rennock gestured toward Hazel with a smile.

“If she is willing, and I believe she will be, Miss Willowbend will provide you with gainful employment as her assistant in her capacity as the new head healer of the Vale. Master Kerren will not mind stepping down once he has trained you both on the intricacies of the job. He has been looking forward to retirement for some time, and Miss Willowbend is a singularly talented individual.”

Relief flooded through Morwyn and she felt Hazel immediately perk up and stand tall. As tall as she could, anyway. Though they'd not yet broached the subject she'd hoped that she could continue to work with Hazel as a healer. It brought her so much more satisfaction than dealing death, though she knew she would inevitably be called on to do both. As much as she wished for a life of peace she knew she could not ignore her aptitude for violence, but merely direct it toward virtuous ends. The defense of her new family was as good of a purpose for her power as she could imagine.

Find the balance. Maintain it.

The Moonmother's words once again echoed through her mind, though she couldn't tell if it were her own memory or a nudge from the goddess herself. Morwyn quickly dismissed the twinge of frustration that welled within her when she thought of the vague nature of the deity's revelations as well as her frustrating interventions. She now had a better understanding of the prescience of the Moonmother's dire warnings as well as a means to follow her guidance. Rennock's plan for her wasn't one to simply mitigate disaster, but one that might allow her to live a somewhat normal life.

“That's quite the promotion,” Hazel said modestly, though Morwyn could tell she was practically bouncing with excitement at the prospect. “If you think I deserve the position then I humbly accept. And of course I would love to keep Morwyn on as my apprentice. She's a quick learner. I'll have her whipped into shape in no time.”

“Whipped in some way,” Argoth murmured under his breath with a chuckle.

“What was that, Argoth?” Hazel's eyes narrowed as she stared him down.

“I said 'whipped in some way',” Argoth replied loudly, calling her bluff with a wide grin. Heat immediately rose to Morwyn's cheeks, but Rennock interjected before her embarrassment peaked.

“All of this is contingent on one thing,” the old man said, his voice projecting with authority that quieted the others. “Miss Shrike, do you accept? I would not force this plan upon you. There are other options that we could explore. This is but one path forward.”

“Of course,” Morwyn responded immediately. It hadn't been a hard choice to make and didn't require extended deliberation. Rennock was handing her a dream on a silver platter. A dangerous dream to be sure and far from certain, but one that could work. “I suppose I didn't know it at the time, but this is what I was searching for when I joined you back in Millcrest. Answers, a fresh start, a purpose in life. I will forever be in your debt for all you have done for me. All of you.”

A moment of silence followed her acceptance, though it was neither heavy nor awkward. Hazel beamed up at her, her emerald eyes positively sparkling in the intermittent moonlight. When Morwyn looked back up to the others, Argoth gave her a nod of acknowledgment and Rennock rubbed his palms together expectantly with an excited smile.

“Excellent! There is much work to do when we arrive, and little of it regarding you two now that this is settled. The others must still find their place amongst our community. Rest well, dear ones, for tomorrow night will be a celebration the likes of which you will never forget. Nor, dare I say, will it easily be surpassed.”

Understanding that they were being gently but firmly dismissed, Morwyn and Hazel excused themselves and began to make their way through the forest toward the glow of the campfire peeking between the ancient trees.

“I think that went rather well,” Hazel commented as she climbed up onto a fallen tree trunk and paused to catch her breath. Morwyn cast a glance back over her shoulder but couldn't make out the clearing behind them anymore. She sat down on the log beside the halfling and wiped hear clammy palms on the fabric of her tunic, noting how Hazel's auburn curls seemed to be the only remaining color amidst the murky shadows of dusk.

“Surprisingly so,” she replied with a laugh. “Until now, most private conversations with Rennock have been a bit more stressful, as you can imagine.”

“You carry a lot of weight on your shoulders,” Hazel said tenderly as she leaned in close and tucked several strands of loose hair behind Morwyn's ear. “I don't have to know the details to see that, but there is something else I would really like to know.”

“What might that be?” Morwyn asked, her own breath hitching in her chest slightly as she felt Hazel's warm, sweet breath on her face. The halfling looked away nervously for a moment, shy in a way that Morwyn had never seen before. Worry creased Morwyn's brow and she slowly removed her gloves, placing a hand on Hazel's cheek.

“When we get to the Vale, would you...” Hazel took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and met Morwyn's gaze firmly. “Would you like to live with me?”

Her concern melted away like snow in the warmth of the sun and Morwyn pulled Hazel to her, pressing their foreheads together. Her heart felt so light she was momentarily concerned that it might escape from her ribcage. After a moment she pulled back and placed a kiss on the tip of Hazel's button nose. A wry smile teased her lips as she met the halfling's anxious eyes.

“Miss Willowbend, are you asking me to move in with you before you even have a home to offer?”

Morwyn expected Hazel to blush, or to protest, or to counter with a flirtation of her own. Instead, the halfling responded with an apprehensive whisper so soft that she could barely make it out over the nocturnal sounds of the forest and the muted bustle of the nearby camp.

“Yes...”

Morwyn suddenly noticed that the pounding pulse she felt was not hers alone but a matched pair. Pressed together as they were and finally, blessedly without her chain-mail between them, she could feel Hazel's heartbeat hammering away against her chest. In that moment the layers of blustery self preservation were stripped away and Morwyn saw her as she truly was- an anxious woman in desperate search of an answer to a question she'd been terrified to ask. After all they'd been through she didn't understand why such a thing held so much weight with Hazel, but she didn't need to. It was enough to know that it was important to her. That, in turn, made it absolutely vital to Morwyn.

“I would love nothing more, darling,” she said, absent her previous playful tone. “I couldn't imagine it any other way. It wouldn't be home without you in it.”

Hazel threw her arms around Morwyn's neck and held her tightly for a long moment until her erratic pulse and breathing slowed a bit. She relaxed her embrace just enough to pull back and meet Morwyn's lips with her own. The kiss was both patient and insistent at once, earnest yet holding back.

“Thank you,” Hazel whispered, burying her face in Morwyn's neck. “I don't know why, but I was afraid that... oh, I don't know. That you might not be ready. That it was too much to ask. Too bold, too presumptive-”

Morwyn hushed her with a gentle finger on her lips. Her skin felt on fire as she trailed the finger down her chin, danced across her neck, then slipped the hand around her waist and gently guided Hazel down until the halfling was straddling her lap. She leaned in with deliberate slowness until they shared the same breath, her eyes half lidded with the heat of emotion and intensity of the moment.

“If you didn't ask,” Morwyn murmured, her fingertips tracing patterns on Hazel's back through the fabric of her dress, “I most certainly would have. I love you, Hazel. The gods themselves couldn't keep us apart if they tried.”

They melted into each other in a kiss that was far removed from their previous ones, which had been altogether far too brief and chaste in comparison. By the time they returned to camp both women shone with sweat and their hair was in complete disarray.