November 10, 2001
Duskwater reflects on his lifemates both past and present.
Part 1
Humming a jaunty little tune to himself, Duskwater strolled to the river carrying his spear and fishing basket. Newgreen was coming soon; he could smell it. The days were getting a little longer and a bit warmer now. Some of the birds and other animals were starting their courtship rituals and choosing their mates. He thought of his own lifemate and sighed, a small smile softening his stern features.
Firemoss would be preparing her herbs right now. She would kneel in their den with her legs folded demurely under her as she crushed dry leaves into a powder. Every movement would be graceful and delicate as if her hands danced over the plants. While she worked, her soft red hair would slide forward exposing the long, smooth column of her creamy neck.
Duskwater swallowed and blinked his eyes a few times, letting the vision of her drift away before he ran back to their den and interrupted her work. As he continued on his way to his favourite fishing spot, he sent a picture of it to his wolf-friend. A sleek black she-wolf came bounding out of the underbrush and scampered happily to his side. Grinning at her antics, he twined his fingers into Shadowchaser's ruff and sent a greeting to her. His bond was still a cub at heart.
When they entered the little clearing by the river, he paused a moment to scent the air for other predators. A wandering longtooth was not the elf's first choice of companion. Sensing no danger, he moved fully into the open space beside the river. Shadowchaser dashed to the river's edge and back as he placed his spear and basket beside the boulder that Evenstream used to sit on. Evenstream. The elder tied his long, wavy brown hair back, smiling a little as memories of his previous mate washed through his mind. He could see Evenstream covering her mouth with one small hand as she giggled. A single lock of her silver hair had always fallen in her face to hang right between her blue eyes, tickling her pert little nose. Evenstream laughing, or crying, curled safely in his embrace. Life with her had been a constant flow of quiet joy. One memory in particular grabbed his attention. Evenstream had been sitting on her rock…
Lying at her feet with his hands behind his head, Duskwater stared up at his mate. She frowned in concentration, her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth. The two of them had lingered on the river's shore well past sunrise while Evenstream collected the long flexible grass that grew there. Now she was weaving the grass into a basket or something else that had struck her fancy. She sat hunched on the rock, her finger flying as she worked. Duskwater sighed and closed his eyes. Their den was already full to overflowing with baskets, floor mats, wall hangings, and Evenstream's experiments with woven grass clothing. Which was definitely not comfortable. He didn't completely understand her seeming obsession with grass. But one didn't gainsay one's mate when her mind is made up, at least not if one wanted to actually converse with her any soon. So Duskwater relaxed there at Evenstream's feet, lulled to sleep by the quiet, rhythmic rustling of the grass.
The midday sun was beating down on him when a small foot nudged him awake. He blinked, wincing at the daystar's brightness, and sat up. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he asked, "Are you ready to go back to the den now?"
"Not quite yet, sleepyhead," she answered. "I need your help first." She laughed as her mate groaned theatrically. "Come on. I just want you to try this on for me." She pulled on his arm until he got to his feet. She smiled up at him sweetly, looking perfectly innocent.
Mischief flickering in her eyes, she climbed up and stood on her rock so that the two of them were equal in height. She picked up a short grass cloak from beside her feet and swirled it around his shoulders. Then she turned and crouched down, reaching behind the boulder for something else. Evenstream stood and presented her new creation to her mate. It was a wide conical hat with a fringe of loose ends around a low brim. She placed it carefully on his head then drew back a bit to admire her work.
"Hmm. It could use a strap under the chin to hold it steady." She mumbled to herself, putting a finger out to touch the hat. It wobbled back and forth on his head nearly falling off. "A stiff wind would blow it right off."
Duskwater wished for just such a wind right now. The hat prickled his ears most uncomfortably and the cloak made him extremely hot. He also thought he must look a bit like a bush. "What is this for, dear one?"
"It will keep the rain off you, I think." She said. "Let's walk back to the den. I need to see how it moves with you."
So, off they went back to their den. Duskwater trudged along while Evenstream flitted about, viewing him from different angles. They saw a few other elves on their way home. The elder schooled his features into his normal calm, patient expression and tried to ignore his tribe mate's snickers. He didn't begrudge them their laughter. After all, it was hard to appear dignified when you are a walking shrub.
Finally the lifemated pair reached the tree they in which denned. Evenstream was about to ascend the trunk when she glanced back and saw the long-suffering, haggard look on his face. "Oh!" she cried. "I've done it again, haven't I?"
She reached up to lift the hat from his brow but Duskwater caught her wrist with his left hand before she could touch it. "I'm sorry, beloved. Never mind my rumblings. I would do anything to make you happy." She gasped as Duskwater's strong right arm circled her waist and pulled her against him. He released her wrist so he could gently brush that stray lock of hair from her face. Her giggle echoed in his ear as they stood nearly nose to nose under the wide brim of her newest creation. He grinned wickedly and said, "Besides, being your model does have its rewards."
Whine.
A large furred head shoved against the back of Duskwater's knees almost sending him sprawling in the dust. Surprised, the elf steadied himself against Shadowchaser's sturdy body as the wolf moved to support him. He crouched beside her, burying his hands in the fur on either side of her head, and laughed. "How rude of me. You're ready to eat and I'm off wandering in my mind." He scratched around her ears in apology before he rose to his feet again.
**Fish?** He wolf sent to her.
For answer, Shadowchaser got behind him and nudged him toward the swiftly moving river. Soon it would be gorged with runoff from spring thaw upriver but it was still safe for now. It wasn't quite warm enough to melt the snow in the mountains yet. He would only have a few more days of fishing before he would have to stop and wait for the river to quit raging.
At the water's edge, Duskwater stooped and stuck one finger in. He sighed, suspicions confirmed. It was still too cold to get in and fish with his bare hands. He would have to use his spear while standing on the shore, unfortunately. He definitely preferred barehanded fishing to spear fishing. It was more challenging and the fish were bigger further out in the river. As he went back to the boulder to get his spear, he remembered another warmer day when he had been able to get out in the water.
Duskwater stood hip deep in a calmer eddy of the river, brow furrowed with concentration. A small group of fish, flashing silver in the early morning sun, darted around his ankles. Fatigue clouded his eyes momentarily only to be blinked quickly away. It had been a long night, but a productive one. Nearly two hands of fish were already lying on the shore well back from the water line.
Slowly, Duskwater lowered his hands into the river letting them dangle even with his knees so that only the swirling current moved them. He endured the constant nibbling of the fish by biting his bottom lip. The tickling sensation reminded him of how much his new face fur itched. He practically quivered with the need to scratch but a fat fish was hovering tantalizing close to his hands. His fingers flexed minutely in anticipation of swift movement necessary to snatch the fish and send it sailing out of the water onto the shore with its brethren.
Come on, little one. He thought, trying to make his fingers look as enticing as possible to the slender silver creature swimming between his hands. Come explore the strange looking river grass.
"Look out!" A strong feminine voice cried out as something large slammed into Duskwater's back, sending him face first into the river.
Chillwind covered her mouth with one hand, trying to stifle her laughter as Duskwater gained his feet spluttering and gasping. Tendrils of hair clung to his face and neck and he couldn't seem to scrape it all out of his eyes. Meanwhile, her wolf-friend, which had caused the trouble in the first place, frisked around in the water enjoying his usual romp in the water before settling in for the day. She snickered as Duskwater tried unsuccessfully to move out of the way of the wolf's energetic play. Chillwind couldn't help but laugh. She always felt immense satisfaction whenever she saw the serenely calm, older elf's fur get rubbed the wrong way. She enjoyed perturbing the unpreturbable.
Duskwater slogged to the shore tired, wet, itchy, and thoroughly grumpy. He scowled at the young she-elf giggling at him. Her ash blonde hair was pulled back in a tight braid that hung down to her shoulder blades and her unadorned leathers spoke of the practicality of a hunter. He let his eye wander appreciatively over her for a moment. Recognition had changed the way he looked at her. Even though he had bounced her on his knee a few times when she was tiny, she had long ago bloomed into a female's full curves.
Waiting until she had nearly gained control of herself, Duskwater summoned up a stern look and opened his mouth to lecture her a little on respecting her elders when he noticed how the rising sun sparkled in her gold-flecked brown eyes. He was drawn in, drowning in their depths. Their cub was already growing inside her but her eyes still affected him as if he recognized her every time he looked at her.
Chillwind thought he looked a bit like the fish he'd caught with his mouth hanging open as it was. "Yil?" She whispered tentatively.
"Kyni," he sighed.
Her soul name was like a caress. The hairs on her arms stood on end and a fire of longing burned through her. She watched a single drop of water slide down his chest as he moved closer to her. Duskwater cupped her face in his hands and looked into her eyes as if he were dying of thirst. Suddenly she found herself in his arms as he easily lifted her and carried her off toward the bushes.
"Now wait just a moment," she said. "I didn't come here to be swept off my feet." Duskwater cocked one eyebrow in obvious disbelief. She blushed. "Well maybe I did come for that. But only after we talked. Now, put me down."
Duskwater gently set her down. As soon as her feet touched the ground they were in motion, pacing back and forth in front of him while she ranted. "In the past two moons we've recognized and answered that call. Now there is a cub on the way and we haven't even discussed how we want to raise it. Or if there will even be a 'we.' I mean, are we going to become lifemates also or just parents."
At the word 'lifemate,' Duskwater's blue-grey eyes widened in surprise. "You're right. We should discuss this. I didn't think that…I mean I just thought that…Well you've always seemed to enjoy the freedom of varied lovemates without the bond to only one. I didn't want to interfere with that. But for the last two moons, whenever I thought of you with someone else, I would find myself alternating between seething with jealousy and concern for your well being. I for one have had enough of that."
"You've had enough?!" She whirled to face him and advanced on him stiff-legged with anger. He backed up a few paces until he felt a fallen tree behind his legs. She poked him in the chest with one of her fingers hard enough to make him sit down on the log. "You're the one who said you would rather be fishing than be with me. You still think of me as a cub don't you? How else could you deny what is between us. I've never felt this way for any of the others…This is more than recognition. You are the other half of my soul…" Tears welled up in her eyes. "Why don't you want me?"
"Shhh," he soothed. Duskwater reached out and pulled her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her. **It isn't like that, Kyni, beloved. You are fiery, strong, and spontaneous. I thought you wouldn't want to be with an old stick in the mud like me. Please forgive my assumption. If you still want me, I would love to be your lifemate.**
Chillwind sat back and stared at him consideringly. Her face was completely devoid of emotion now. She watched Duskwater for so long that he began to get uncomfortable as he imagined all the thoughts that must be going through her head. He shifted a little under that unblinking gaze but he could not break eye contact. Finally, her mask-like face thawed and a sly smirk played over her lips. "Had you worried for a bit, didn't I?" She threw her arms around his neck and rubbed her nose against his. "Now, where shall we den?"
Part 2
Smiling to himself, Duskwater reluctantly pushed that memory from his mind and, spear in hand, strode to the river's edge. His family had requested yellow fin for their meal that night. Early evening quickly turned into night as he stood on the shore scanning the water for likely specimens and spearing them when they came near. He caught one large striped fish and tossed it to Shadowchaser. True darkness was just settling in when Duskwater decided that he had caught enough. He packed the fish in his basket to carry back. He then stood and made his way back through the forest towards home. The moons were just coming out to light his way. It was a placid night; only crickets broke the stillness with their love songs. As he moved silently through the brush, another memory snared his attention.
The small clearing pulsed with movement and light staccato drumming that echoed from a hollow log. Long, black hair swirled around her as she moved in tempo with the pattern he tapped out. Crickets sang in the background but she danced to the tune of her own passion. The full moons overhead should have illuminated the whole scene. Instead, trees cast their leafy shadows over her nude form, cloaking her body in darkness. He caught only fleeting, tantalizing glimpses of her smooth white limbs as they flashed into the light. He forgot to breathe in those moments. Weaving, prancing, and turning, she danced her need and desire. Then, she increased her pace, stepping and twirling so rapidly that he felt his own heart throb faster and faster as she crescendoed toward climax.
Suddenly, it was upon her. It seemed as though the world paused while she threw herself to the ground with her hair floating around her. Then one lone arm rose out of the blackened pooled surrounding her prone form, stretching with forlorn yearning for the moons.
A low moan escaped Duskwater's lips as he watching his lifemate slowly rise from the ground panting softly. Her skin gleamed with a light sheen of sweat but she did not seem tired at all. In fact, her full, pouty lips curled into a sensual smile as she strolled towards him without bothering to put her clothes back on. He staggered to his feet to greet her, awkwardly fumbling with his hands as he tried to find someplace to put them that looked natural and relaxed. He put them on his hips but thought maybe that made him look too arrogant. He shifted a bit and let the left one dangle at his side. Then, just as she reached him, he shoved both hands behind his back. She stood so close he could feel the heat coming off her body even through his leathers. He cleared his throat. "Nightbloom…I…"
"Speechless as usual," she sighed, pouting playfully. "Six turns of the season and you still can't think of what to say. One of these days I'm going to get the impression that you don't like my dancing." She laughed at his immediate protestations and, wrapping her arms around his neck, silenced him with a gentle kiss.
A rustle in the bushes nearby broke the embrace. Both elves looked toward the sound and froze in place, listening intently. It sounded small but the wind was not right to carry its scent to their questing noses. All at once, a ringtail moved into the clearing, limping slightly. The elfin pair relaxed. It was not dangerous and it seemed oblivious to their presence anyway. In fact, it appeared to be completely unaware of its surrounding altogether. It wandered aimlessly around the far end of the clearing in confusion, obviously favoring its right forepaw. It stopped its meandering directly across the clearing from them, facing their direction, but its eye were unfocused and it still did not notice them. Bubbling saliva circled the ringtail's mouth with a thick, sticky looking drool slowly dribbling from it.
**Beloved, look!** Nightbloom sent.
**I see it,** Duskwater replied. **Foaming sickness. You've no weapons so be ready to run!**
His blue eyes flicked toward his spear and he breathed a soft sigh of relief. It was in reach. Gradually, carefully he stretched out his right arm to grab his spear. He moved so slowly that it felt like an eternity passed before the tips of his fingers brushed the smooth wooden shaft. The wind shifted suddenly, causing Nightbloom's hair to whip around her and sending their scent directly to the rabid creature. The combination of motion and scent must have been too much to ignore because it crazed eyes snapped into focus. Snarling once, it launched itself at the pair.
Duskwater snatched up his spear. **Run!** He sent as he brought his weapon into a ready position.
She hesitated for an instant, her worry for her young lifemate humming through her mind as a wordless sending, before she spun about and started to dart away. In a flash of perfect clarity, Duskwater instinctively knew the precise moment to strike and he stabbed downward. But, in its last extremity, the ringtail moved faster than his mate ever could have. The animal plunged small, knife-like teeth into Nightbloom's calf just as he pinned it to the ground through its rib cage with his spear.
After her initial outcry, Nightbloom laid quietly where she had fallen staring at the creature with its teeth still embedded in her leg. Duskwater moved to her side to pry it loose but, without looking at him, she held up one hand to forestall him. "No," she whispered. "We can't risk you getting any spit on yourself." He handed her his knife and watched as she delicately severed the main tendon in the ringtail's jaw, detaching it from her leg.
Duskwater quickly gathered her clothing then returned to help his mate gain her feet and to support her as she, refusing to be carried, hobbled to the river to clean the wound. He collected some hair moss along the way with which to dress the wound. Once at the river, she wordlessly insisted on tending to herself. He busied himself by cutting bandages out of his own shirt, then laying out her clothes and loosening the laces on her pants' leg. Throughout the process of washing and wrapping, Nightbloom would not look him in the eye nor would she speak. She soon finished with her injury; however she then simply sat naked by the river, staring at the water. He crossed to her side and gently dressed her as he would Dagwood, their young cubling. Then he lifted her unresisting body into his arms to begin the long journey back to the Holt.
Looking down at her, Duskwater whispered, "Beloved, please look at me."
Nightbloom's dark green eyes shifted slowly until they met his. In that moment of contact, the wall between their minds collapsed. He felt the wall of her fear crest over him and crash into him like the river full of winter run-off. He stood in the middle of that torrent, clutching his own thoughts close lest they be washed away, just as he held tightly to Nightbloom's trembling form. As the first wave of raging fear passed, Duskwater began to sense more definitive thoughts. It was not death she feared. No, the passing of her spirit to the High Ones did not cause such panic. But the thought of madness terrified her. Would she forget her family and loved ones? Would she strike out at them when her mind was fogged with foaming sickness? Her worries swirled around him, trying to drag him under.
This is not the time to falter, he thought. So he reached down into the core of himself, brushing off his owns uncertainties, to find that pillar of patient strength he knew was there. He stretched out to meet Nightbloom's mind. His calm determination quieted her churning thoughts. Looking deeply into her eye, he sent, **Aila, I will not let it go that far.** Her mind snapped back into focus as she read his intent. Sighing, she sagged against him in relief as he carried her quickly back to the Holt.
The next two eights of days seemed to creep by as the mated pair went about their normal routine while waiting to see if Nightbloom would sicken. It came upon her quickly once the symptoms started. One evening she was fine but as dawn neared she staggered and stumbled as if her legs would no longer obey her. The daystar was just peeking over the horizon when Duskwater and Nightbloom retreated into the forest followed by an unusually silent Capnut. Their cub's grieving wail rose thinly behind them before being joined by the full-throated cry of the tribe.
His back against a tree trunk, Duskwater sank to the ground and wrapped his arms around his knees. The basket of fish he carried fell from his fingers to lie forgotten on the ground near his feet. The vision of Nightbloom cuddled against his chest as she drifted into herb-induced sleep and then death would not leave him. She had been wrapped tightly in her favourite bed furs with her mouth covered in preserver webbing so as not to infect him. The memory was still strong even though it had happened so long ago. Marshclay, the next eldest to him, had not even been born yet. He sat there against the tree for a while, his mind swirling him from one memory to the next.
A faint rustle of leaves roused him somewhat. The sweet scent of honeysuckle floated to him and he smiled to himself. He looked up, knowing who would be there. Her tall, willowy form stood between Shadowchaser and her own wolf-friend, Burrpelt, with one hand resting lightly on each of their necks. Her red-gold hair snaked over her shoulder and her thin braids fluttered in the slight breeze, which carried the light floral scent to him. She turned her delicate heart shaped face down toward where he sat. She left the wolves and glided over to him like a spirit and drifted down beside him.
"I was beginning to worry," she said, placing one slender hand against his cheek. "Then Shadowchaser came and brought me here. What troubles you, beloved?"
"I've just been caught up in a net woven by my mind…memories." Suddenly, Duskwater reached out and pulled Firemoss close, hugging her tightly, face buried in her neck as he breathed in the scent of her. Bemused, she returned the embrace, stroking his hair. "I am so very lucky," he whispered fiercely. "I've had so many new beginnings in my life…so much love." He pulled back a bit to stare into her eyes. "What did I do to deserve all of it?"
She smiled gently. "You have an open heart. You give your love freely without fear of being hurt despite your past history."
He grinned and kissed her forehead softly. "I'll treasure you always, beloved."
She pulled back from him and stood up. "If I am such a treasure, then you must shower me with gifts!" She said mock imperiously, eyes shining with mischief. "Where are my gifts?"
Snagging the basket that lay nearby, Duskwater rose to his knees and offered it to her. "Take this, O Beautiful One, as a token of my devotion to you."
She peeked into the basket and exclaimed, "Yellow fin! My favourite." Laughing, she pulled him to his feet and looped her arm in his. "Come on. Let's go home." Duskwater smiled and let her lead him away. As he walked, he began humming a happy little tune, his heart full of love.