The Brewing Storm

Sitting on the platform, her knees were drawn up, arms wrapped around them and her chin propped on one of the upturned knees. You could often see her in this position when she was deep in thought, as she was tonight. The events of the past few days marched through her memory, and she was trying to marshal them into some semblance of order.


The events at the fire, when Tarra had expressed her hurt and displeasure with her, still haunted her, and puzzled her. She had proclaimed that she had to find out about the baby's birth from an out rider. An out rider? She considered Rook much more than an outrider, and the night of the birth, he had gone to spread the word. Then there was talk of Loch's wishes. Lock had not made any statements about the baby. When she had told him, he had smiled, then drew his last breath.


So many things bothered her about that evening. But what truly bothered her the most was how emotional Tarra was. This was something new to her, she had never seen the woman this emotional. Even on the night her son did, she had not shown any emotion. The night his pyre was held, the woman had been stoic, not showing any outward signs of what she was feeling. But on that night, her emotions were in a fury, just as she was. Over all the time she had known Tarra, she had never seen her disrespect a warrior of the first wagons in the manner she did Ba'atar that evening, and that bothered her. She felt trapped in the middle between the man she loved, and the ones she considered family, and it was an uncomfortable spot to be in. Something was wrong, very, very wrong, and she had yet to puzzle out what exactly it was.


Later that evening, she and Ba'atar had talked about it. He told her to keep the baby near the wagons, and he would be the one to take him, and introduce him to his grandmother. She made him this promise. As much as she loved Tarra, she would not go against the wishes of her mate. Just as she would never have gone against Loch when he was alive. It was just how she was.


This was something that would have to be worked out between Ba'atar and Tarra, and she would not put herself in the middle of it. It did sadden her though, that the baby, which should be drawing them all closer, seemed to be casting them all asunder.


But will all the turmoil, there was some happiness, at least for her it was happiness. Kam had taken his great grandson, burned the sage and offered him again to the skies. It touched her, probably more than he knew, considering all that followed.


There was a storm brewing, a bad one, and she didn't know any other way to take shelter from it, but to stay close to the love her of mate. She had a feeling they would have to draw upon each other's strengths to weather what was ahead.