To Talk of Many Things.

As she rode along, her thoughts drifted to the previous evening and the talk she had with her nephew. One could tell by looking at him, that he was a changed man. Was it for the better? She thought so.


It did pain her to see him limping along on the crutch, but she could see a new strength in him. Not that he had ever been weak, but the strength that she saw in him was not a physical one, but a mental one. A strength of spirit. When he had left on that fateful day, he had been a warrior, a hunter, a Tuchuk, there was no doubts of that. He had returned something more. Gone was the naive, callow youth, to be replaced by a quieter, more introspective man. She found it not only endearing, but something that gave her much pride in him. He was a man that gave much thought and consideration to things now, not one to be impressed easily or led astray. She was pleased to see this in him.



They talked of many things. This was the first time that time had permitted them to do such. They talked of him and Noya, his concerns, his fears. She had told him to give it time, that things would work out as the skies intended.


Then he had asked her of the bosk singer, her feelings for him. It was funny. He was the first to even ask her about the man. She told him of Lochlan's death, and of everyone being in shock, and each one of them handling the grief in their own way. She then told him that Ba'atar had been the only one to come to her, to talk to her of her loss, of her feeling, of her sadness, her anger.


When she had cursed the skies, it was he that had reminded her of the many blessings they had bestowed upon her. When she had cried, he had been the one to hold her hand, and to let the natural progress of tears take over. He did not tell her not to cry, that it was not good for her or the baby. He had allowed it.


When she had asked him to sing and play Lochley's drum, he did not flinch, but told her of how honored he would be to do such. And the song was beautiful.


When she had faltered, he always seemed to be there to give her the strength to take that next step. He reminded her often of what a blessed woman she was. He had provided meat for her wagons. He had spent time with her son. When no one else seemed to be there, he was.


Trilok had the wisdom to ask her if she was confusing feelings of loneliness and being grateful of the man for those of a much deeper nature. No, she was not. She was not one of those women that had to have a man around to be whole. She had the strength of character to know her heart, to know what it was telling her.


She had told him that she knew that others would not understand, and that others would think it was too soon, but over the past six or seven moons, a friendship had deepened into something more. He had nodded, telling her that he could attest to this, from his own recent ordeal. She knew that she owed a great debt to some, but she also knew that this was her life, and her happiness, and she would not deny it out of loyalty to others. She also hoped that they would understand, and only wish what was best for her, and would allow it to progress as it should..


She knew that many would not understand any of this, but after talking with her nephew, she knew that he did, and that he would keep her best interests in his heart when he spoke to the man.


Did she have concerns? Of course she did. Ba'atar was arrogant, brash, and a bit grating to some, and her nephew was very protective, wishing only for her to be happy. Her most fervent hope was that they could come to a common ground. One that would not break her heart.


But, in her minds eye, she could see the butting of heads of two bulls, each convinced that the territory they stood upon was his. Skies help her.