She was by the fires, having a cold glass of milk watching Another One toddle around. He was growing so quickly, and was walking all over the place. He was such a joy, both of her sons were, and she loved them very much. A hand moves to caress her middle, and she loved the one she was carrying too. In her heart, she knew that it was another son. Hopefully he would look like his father.
Suddenly she was aware that she was being watched and turned her head around searching until the hazel eyes landed on the man leaning a shoulder against a wagon. Smiling, she struggles to her feet. "Tal Aamon" The man nods. "Tal Daughter. You are well?" Approaching him, she forces another smile. "I have never been better. Please, sit and I will get you something to drink." The man grunts. "Bosk dung" But he does push from the wagon and moves to settle on a pile of furs. "Water would be good."
Moving to get a bota of fresh water she hands it to him, and this time the smile was genuine. "I have some fresh honey cakes that I baked this morning, would you like some?" Taking the bota, he reaches out with his other hand to gently grasp her wrist. "In a bit. Right now I want for you to sit down and rest, and talk to me." Talk? Why did that make her wince inwardly. Slowly she lowered down beside him, withdrawing her hand and clasping it with its' partner over her belly. "Of course. Talk. How is Birmmah?" Taking a drink from the bota, he taps the cork back in place.
"Birmmah is Birmmah, and she is fine. I am fine, all of the boys are fine. Now, that we have gotten that out of the way, how are you really?" Now this puzzles her a bit. "I am doing well Aamon, only the usual aches and pains of being with child, but I am sure you are well acquainted with those." She could feel his dark gaze on her, and it made her cheeks color. There was a gentleness to his gruff voice. "Cana, I do not like it when someone lies to me, even when they think it is best that I not know the truth. Something lays heavy on you, and it shows in your eyes." Why did he have to be so kind? Why couldn't he have just taken her words and settled with them? She was actually relieved when Another One toddled over, babbling. Aamon set aside the bota, pulled the boy into his lap, and kissed the top of his head, then spoke softly. "Sshhh, grandson, we are trying to find out what makes your mama so sad." He then looks to her again. "Now, are you going to lie to both of us?"
That did it. She had thought there were no more tears to be shed, but she was wrong. Turning her head to save him from seeing them, she speaks softly. "I think Ba'atar is disappointed in me. " She just cannot tell him that she thinks his son no longer loves her. She can't tell that to anyone, it is the secret she harbors in her heart. Gently bouncing the baby, his brow furrows. "Where did you come up with that foolishness?"
Sighing, she wraps her arms around her middle.and for some reason the words just come tumbling out. "I have tried so hard Aamon. I try to do exactly as he wishes. His favorite meals are cooked when he comes home, there is always fresh water, I do his laundry myself, I keep things clean for him, and it just does not seem to be enough. He is always telling me that his mother does not do it that way, or that his mother never needed slaves around to help her. I have failed in being the woman that he wants. I cannot be like Birrmah, no matter how hard I try. " One of his brows arches. "And why do you strive so hard to be like her?" Looking at him, she shrugs. "Because that is what Ba'atar wants, a woman just like his mother, and I always end up, coming up short. "
"Child, have you thought to tell him that you are not Birmmah?" Her eyes widen. "Oh yes. And his answer was that I needed to try and learn to be like her, for she is the best woman that he has ever known."
Sitting the boy back to his feet, he takes the bota, drinks, and thinks. "Child, you will never be like her, and there is nothing wrong with that, and Ba'atar needs to understand that. I was lucky to have mated her, she had seen to my every need, and to every need of my sons, and for that I am thankful. But she is not perfect. And if what my son was seeking was a mother, then he should have stayed at the family wagon, and not taken a mate." Turning his head, he looks at her for what seems like an eternity. "When my son first started talking about you, he spoke of how smart and funny you were, and how your eyes simply sparkled when you spoke. He told me of what a good mother you were to your son, and that he wanted someone like you to raise his sons. He said you were beautiful, funny and strong. Those were the reasons he fell in love with you, not because you were like his mother. I think that somewhere along the way, you have tried to change too much, and maybe he has not tried to change at all. If this is the truth, then there will be no happiness at these wagons."
If her heart were not shattered already, it would have broken a bit at his words. "But what do I do? I have thought on all of this until I am almost ill with worry. He will not talk of it, for he is convinced that he is right, and that all of the problems lay with me, and I am trying. I stay here at the wagon, rarely venturing from them unless it is to go to the stream to do laundry. I have basically given up my clan work, because he does not want me at the pens. I am at a loss as to what else to do."
Aamon holds up his hand. "Wait. You have given up your work with the kaiilas?" She nods. "Yes, for the most part I have. Ba'atar has told me that I can only go to the pens one day a hand, and that is not enough to do what I need to do, so I just don't go at all." Again the man grunts. "I see. And you are happy with this?" The dark head shakes. "No, but it is a sacrifice that I have had to make to keep him happy. Aamon, I love the kaiila, and I have a way with them, and I have always taken great pride in my work with them. But, that is in the past. I love Ba'atar more."
Seeing the baby wander too far, he gets up, picks the child up and sets him back down closer to them, then lowers back down. "Cana, I do not think my son understands about your clan work. You see, Birmmah was a weaver, she could do her work and stay at our wagons, and that is what she preferred to do. Ba'atar is not accustomed to a woman that cannot do that. You need to explain to him that working with the beasts if one of the things that makes you who you are, and that to take that away from you saddens you."
Her gaze shifts to him. "Aamon, I have tried. He has this attitude that he is the man, I am the woman, and what he says goes, and that I have no thoughts on the matter."
He could not help but laugh at this. "I will assure you that he did not learn that from Birmmah and me. Have you ever considered just picking up a skillet, hitting him upside that hard head of his to get his attention?" She laughs softly. "No, but it is a thought." He reaches to pat her arm gently. "And with your other mates, did you continue with your clan work?" "Yes I did" "Did your wagons suffer for it? Were the meals cold, or the furs dusty, or did they have to wear dirty clothes?" She gets almost indignant. "Of course not! I always took very good care of both Tayco and Loch, and they both seemed to talk pride in the fact that I was so good at my work, and allowed me to continue it."
Withdrawing his hand, he brings his legs up, resting his arms on his legs. "Now, let me think on this. You took good care of two other mates, bore them sons, continued with your clan work, and you were happy, right?" She nods. "So if you go back to your clan work, that would solve all of your problems, is that it?" Sighing, she shook her head, then spoke softly. "Aamon, it is more than that. I seem to be losing who I am, who I was. And to be honest, I do not think that Ba'atar loves me any longer." There she had said it.
His head snaps to her. "Nonsense! What in the name of bosk dung, gave you that idea?" She quailed under his ire. " He is rarely at home any more, when he is, he barely speaks to me. He no longer touches me, or holds me, in fact he seems to be appalled by my heaviness these days. And........" This was the hardest part for her, but she continues. "He has been with other women. I have smelled them on his clothing."
It was if a storm cloud had spread across his features. "Slaves you mean?" Her shoulders lift then drop. "I do not know, I have not asked him." She then turns her gaze to him. "Tell me Aamon, what man goes off on a hunt without his arrows?"
He had no answer for that one, and it was his time to shrug. "Cana, I do not know about him and his arrows, all I know is that he and my other sons are off on a quest that only they know the point of. But, I do know this, Ba'atar loves you. He is young, maybe a little too headstrong most of the times, and yes, his mother has spoiled him. But he is a good man, and will grow into a good mate, just give him time." Turns to look at her again, a faint whisper of a smile on his face. "I personally think you are the perfect woman for him. Have patience with him. You two have to learn how to talk to each other." Lifting to his feet, he leans to place a kiss to the top of her head. "You need to take control of your life, do the things that make you happy, and my son will come around, I promise you this."
With not another word, he walked away with those determined strides of his. She would have loved to have known what he was thinking. Her shoulders droop as she sits there, drawing her son into her lap and ponders the conversation.
Suddenly she was aware that she was being watched and turned her head around searching until the hazel eyes landed on the man leaning a shoulder against a wagon. Smiling, she struggles to her feet. "Tal Aamon" The man nods. "Tal Daughter. You are well?" Approaching him, she forces another smile. "I have never been better. Please, sit and I will get you something to drink." The man grunts. "Bosk dung" But he does push from the wagon and moves to settle on a pile of furs. "Water would be good."
Moving to get a bota of fresh water she hands it to him, and this time the smile was genuine. "I have some fresh honey cakes that I baked this morning, would you like some?" Taking the bota, he reaches out with his other hand to gently grasp her wrist. "In a bit. Right now I want for you to sit down and rest, and talk to me." Talk? Why did that make her wince inwardly. Slowly she lowered down beside him, withdrawing her hand and clasping it with its' partner over her belly. "Of course. Talk. How is Birmmah?" Taking a drink from the bota, he taps the cork back in place.
"Birmmah is Birmmah, and she is fine. I am fine, all of the boys are fine. Now, that we have gotten that out of the way, how are you really?" Now this puzzles her a bit. "I am doing well Aamon, only the usual aches and pains of being with child, but I am sure you are well acquainted with those." She could feel his dark gaze on her, and it made her cheeks color. There was a gentleness to his gruff voice. "Cana, I do not like it when someone lies to me, even when they think it is best that I not know the truth. Something lays heavy on you, and it shows in your eyes." Why did he have to be so kind? Why couldn't he have just taken her words and settled with them? She was actually relieved when Another One toddled over, babbling. Aamon set aside the bota, pulled the boy into his lap, and kissed the top of his head, then spoke softly. "Sshhh, grandson, we are trying to find out what makes your mama so sad." He then looks to her again. "Now, are you going to lie to both of us?"
That did it. She had thought there were no more tears to be shed, but she was wrong. Turning her head to save him from seeing them, she speaks softly. "I think Ba'atar is disappointed in me. " She just cannot tell him that she thinks his son no longer loves her. She can't tell that to anyone, it is the secret she harbors in her heart. Gently bouncing the baby, his brow furrows. "Where did you come up with that foolishness?"
Sighing, she wraps her arms around her middle.and for some reason the words just come tumbling out. "I have tried so hard Aamon. I try to do exactly as he wishes. His favorite meals are cooked when he comes home, there is always fresh water, I do his laundry myself, I keep things clean for him, and it just does not seem to be enough. He is always telling me that his mother does not do it that way, or that his mother never needed slaves around to help her. I have failed in being the woman that he wants. I cannot be like Birrmah, no matter how hard I try. " One of his brows arches. "And why do you strive so hard to be like her?" Looking at him, she shrugs. "Because that is what Ba'atar wants, a woman just like his mother, and I always end up, coming up short. "
"Child, have you thought to tell him that you are not Birmmah?" Her eyes widen. "Oh yes. And his answer was that I needed to try and learn to be like her, for she is the best woman that he has ever known."
Sitting the boy back to his feet, he takes the bota, drinks, and thinks. "Child, you will never be like her, and there is nothing wrong with that, and Ba'atar needs to understand that. I was lucky to have mated her, she had seen to my every need, and to every need of my sons, and for that I am thankful. But she is not perfect. And if what my son was seeking was a mother, then he should have stayed at the family wagon, and not taken a mate." Turning his head, he looks at her for what seems like an eternity. "When my son first started talking about you, he spoke of how smart and funny you were, and how your eyes simply sparkled when you spoke. He told me of what a good mother you were to your son, and that he wanted someone like you to raise his sons. He said you were beautiful, funny and strong. Those were the reasons he fell in love with you, not because you were like his mother. I think that somewhere along the way, you have tried to change too much, and maybe he has not tried to change at all. If this is the truth, then there will be no happiness at these wagons."
If her heart were not shattered already, it would have broken a bit at his words. "But what do I do? I have thought on all of this until I am almost ill with worry. He will not talk of it, for he is convinced that he is right, and that all of the problems lay with me, and I am trying. I stay here at the wagon, rarely venturing from them unless it is to go to the stream to do laundry. I have basically given up my clan work, because he does not want me at the pens. I am at a loss as to what else to do."
Aamon holds up his hand. "Wait. You have given up your work with the kaiilas?" She nods. "Yes, for the most part I have. Ba'atar has told me that I can only go to the pens one day a hand, and that is not enough to do what I need to do, so I just don't go at all." Again the man grunts. "I see. And you are happy with this?" The dark head shakes. "No, but it is a sacrifice that I have had to make to keep him happy. Aamon, I love the kaiila, and I have a way with them, and I have always taken great pride in my work with them. But, that is in the past. I love Ba'atar more."
Seeing the baby wander too far, he gets up, picks the child up and sets him back down closer to them, then lowers back down. "Cana, I do not think my son understands about your clan work. You see, Birmmah was a weaver, she could do her work and stay at our wagons, and that is what she preferred to do. Ba'atar is not accustomed to a woman that cannot do that. You need to explain to him that working with the beasts if one of the things that makes you who you are, and that to take that away from you saddens you."
Her gaze shifts to him. "Aamon, I have tried. He has this attitude that he is the man, I am the woman, and what he says goes, and that I have no thoughts on the matter."
He could not help but laugh at this. "I will assure you that he did not learn that from Birmmah and me. Have you ever considered just picking up a skillet, hitting him upside that hard head of his to get his attention?" She laughs softly. "No, but it is a thought." He reaches to pat her arm gently. "And with your other mates, did you continue with your clan work?" "Yes I did" "Did your wagons suffer for it? Were the meals cold, or the furs dusty, or did they have to wear dirty clothes?" She gets almost indignant. "Of course not! I always took very good care of both Tayco and Loch, and they both seemed to talk pride in the fact that I was so good at my work, and allowed me to continue it."
Withdrawing his hand, he brings his legs up, resting his arms on his legs. "Now, let me think on this. You took good care of two other mates, bore them sons, continued with your clan work, and you were happy, right?" She nods. "So if you go back to your clan work, that would solve all of your problems, is that it?" Sighing, she shook her head, then spoke softly. "Aamon, it is more than that. I seem to be losing who I am, who I was. And to be honest, I do not think that Ba'atar loves me any longer." There she had said it.
His head snaps to her. "Nonsense! What in the name of bosk dung, gave you that idea?" She quailed under his ire. " He is rarely at home any more, when he is, he barely speaks to me. He no longer touches me, or holds me, in fact he seems to be appalled by my heaviness these days. And........" This was the hardest part for her, but she continues. "He has been with other women. I have smelled them on his clothing."
It was if a storm cloud had spread across his features. "Slaves you mean?" Her shoulders lift then drop. "I do not know, I have not asked him." She then turns her gaze to him. "Tell me Aamon, what man goes off on a hunt without his arrows?"
He had no answer for that one, and it was his time to shrug. "Cana, I do not know about him and his arrows, all I know is that he and my other sons are off on a quest that only they know the point of. But, I do know this, Ba'atar loves you. He is young, maybe a little too headstrong most of the times, and yes, his mother has spoiled him. But he is a good man, and will grow into a good mate, just give him time." Turns to look at her again, a faint whisper of a smile on his face. "I personally think you are the perfect woman for him. Have patience with him. You two have to learn how to talk to each other." Lifting to his feet, he leans to place a kiss to the top of her head. "You need to take control of your life, do the things that make you happy, and my son will come around, I promise you this."
With not another word, he walked away with those determined strides of his. She would have loved to have known what he was thinking. Her shoulders droop as she sits there, drawing her son into her lap and ponders the conversation.
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