--Evening of Tymor's mating flight--

Callana sat down on her couch, which was finally where she wanted it to
be.  She hefted her pack beside her, and pulled it open.  Slowly, almost
reverently, she spilled the contents into her lap.  She had little care
for the precious gemstones and other jewels, the sparkling minerals and
other materials.  Even the fine tools she let lay in a heap beside her.
Two cloth bundles were left in her lap.

One hand reached absently for the tool kit, pulled it mindlessly into
her lap, selected the right tool.  The other hand deftly undid the silk
ties, letting the scrap of cloth -worthless, compared to the prize
contained within- fall away.

Callana held up the unfinished dragon sculpture, the one she had been
working on for quite a while now.  She had been working on it since she
had obtained her tools and supplies... nearly a year now, indeed.  The
dragon's body was finished, but the wings, neck and head were still yet
to be done.

It was different from all the other pieces she had done.  This dragon
was carved in mid-flight, the wings outstretched to their fullest,
completely proportionate to the body.  It was carved of a marbled
mineral that was mostly black with veins of silver shot through it.  The
wings were curved as though they were truly holding the air that kept it
aloft, the legs held just so, the tail curving out behind.

Callana's hands went to work as she focused on her task.  It was
difficult, considering who's dragon it was.  She could see Furl so
clearly in her mind, but she could see his rider even clearer...

	[Flashback/Dream]

"Hey.. Blade."

Callana whirled around at the sound of that voice, the sword in her
hands going instantly on the defensive.  A few too many of her practice
partners had taken to 'surprising' her, ever since the weaponsmaster had
told her she needed to get her guard up.

"Easy.." T'keth said soothingly.  "I saw what they were doing to you...
I didn't mean that name literally!  Put the sword down, I'm not going to
attack you."

Warily, Callana lowered her blade, but did not put it away.

"Don't you trust me?"

*What a stupid question,* Callana thought.  *Do I trust anyone?*  Then,
a moment later, *Oh, lighten up!* she chided herself.

"Did you hear me?  You can put that thing away," T'keth said, suddenly
grinning.  "There's no way you could ever touch me with it, anyway."

"You dream," Callana shot back.  T'keth's 'help' on her history had
turned into a match to see who could get theirs turned in faster with a
better grade.  She had nearly pitied him when she saw the list of the
day's sparring partners.  T'keth had been with Merranie, of course. 
Just about everyone was convinced they were a couple.  Everyone except
T'keth, of course.  Callana's partner had been just another nameless
face to her.

"Yes, I do," he replied loftily.  "Quite a bit, in fact.  So indulge my
fantasy, would you, and put that thing up in a real guard?"

"Practice is over, children."  Merranie sauntered up, a wide, white
smile plastered on her perfect features.  "You can put the toys away. 
Besides, T'keth's not nearly so good with *this* sword.." she trailed
off suggestively, batting at his blade playfully.

He laughed, turned, and swatted her on the rump with his short blade,
making her shriek and giggle.  Callana had already sheathed her sword
and was walking away.

The door to her apartment slammed shut.  She was on the ground level,
unjoined, and she resented it.  Deeply.  She slumped down on her couch,
feeling its comfort envelop her.  Nearly everything was offending her. 
Didn't help much that they had missed her 16th birthday.  Not that she'd
told anyone.

She picked up the book she'd been reading; a medium-sized texts on the
Wastes and the Wraiths and wild dragons.  All three fascinated her,
especially what little was mentioned about the wild dragons.  She
wondered why the warren dragons who weren't queens couldn't lay eggs
like the wild ones could.

Three knocks came through the door, which she didn't answer.  It swung
open.  In stormed Tāketh, heedless of the scathing gaze she laid on him.

"What'd you go and leave for?" T'keth demanded, looking upset. 
"Merranie was only flirting!"

"Come in," Callana said dryly.

"I did," T'keth retorted, throwing himself down on a nearby chair.  He
draped himself over the padded arms, resting in the crook of the high
back.  "Can I stay?"

"Be my guest," Callana shrugged.

"You're missing dinner," he pointed out.

"So're you."

"I'm not hungry," he sighed.  "I guess you aren't, either.  You don't
each much, do you?"

"I help out in the kitchen.. I know the cooks.. they don't mind.."

"Oh, that's right.  You aren't a warren brat."

"No."  Again, deep resentment.

"Oh, lighten up," T'keth sighed, echoing her earlier thoughts.  "You
seemed sort of offended.  I thought I'd come and see if you were all
right."

"I'm fine," she answered, the shortness in her voice nearly becoming her
normal voice.  She stood up with the forgotten book on wastes, wraiths
and wild dragons, returning it to its shelf against the wall.  She
desperately wished he would leave.  Finally, she heard him stand up.

He didn't leave.  "Are you sure?  Lately, you've just seemed a little
more .. distant..  That doesn't seem very 'fine' to me."

"I'm not some warren born brat with a grin and a giggle like the next
airhead," Callana spat.  "And I-"

T'keth interrupted her.  "Merranie's got nothing on you, Callana."

"What?"

Blithely, he continued, "Really.  She's so artificial."

"And I'm natural as an iceberg.  You think I'm trying to - to.." Callana
trailed off, unbelieving.  "You should go.. I'm not much for company. 
Merranie's probably wondering where you are."

"What do I care what Merranie's wondering?  When're you gonna get
that?"  One hand rested on her shoulder, making her turn.  She flinched,
nearly jerking away.

"Don't touch me!" Callana ducked out from underneath his hand.  "Don't
ever touch me."

"Gods, Blade, what did they do to you?  Why're you like this?  What have
I done to you?"  He looked sincerely concerned, upset, showing the all
the emotion Callana rarely even hinted at.  "I only tried to be your
friend."

Callana glared at him reproachfully.  "What've you ever done?  You tease
me, taunt me, just like they all do!  You expect me to be your friend?"

"To make you laugh, to receive some response other than tight-lipped,
one-word replies!  I want to see you smile.  I almost had you- on the
practice ground, just before Merranie came.  I could have killed her for
that interruption!"

Callana was silent for a long, long time, acutely aware of T'keth's
presence so close by.  She heard him sigh softly, and the rustle of his
clothing as he turned to leave.

"I'm sorry," she said finally, her voice low as she tried hard to fight
the emotion.  The rustling stopped, she heard the intake of his breath.
"I want your friendship just as much as you want mine- I just.. I
can't..  The others are so-"

"I know they are," T'keth replied just as softly.  "I know exactly how
they are.  I think I'd be just like you, if I hadn't been born in the
warren."

He was surprised, almost shocked, to see her eyes gleaming, wet with
tears.  "What...?"  She shook her head, reaching up to wipe the tears
away before they could fall.

T'keth caught her hand with his own and reached out to brush her tears
away with a gentle finger.  "Don't cry," he murmured.  "I don't want to
see you cry.."

Callana looked down at her hand, the one caught in T'keth's.  She looked
up, and hesitantly reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes.  She
saw they were soft with concern- concern for her.

"Oh.." she shook her head and her hand dropped.  She pried her wrist
loose.  "Thank you for being so concerned for me, but I'm all right,"
she said, pulling herself back together, drawing up her former
composure, putting on a brave smile.

"Dammit, Blade, don't do that to me!" T'keth said.  Callana was taken
aback by the hurt in his voice.  "What do I have to do to convince you?
I know- once bitten, twice shy- but this is ridiculous!  You can't hide
inside yourself like that forever."

A smile pulled one corner of her mouth.  "I really am fine, T'keth.. I
mean it:  Thank you.  Maybe we both don't know what we've done for the
other."  She lifted her chin, the line of her mouth softened by the
smile.  T'keth frowned slightly, but couldn't keep it for long.

"What a mystery you are," he mused.

"So much for subtlety," she shrugged.  "Do you mind?  I could never be
like you."

"I want you just the way you are."  T'keth caught her hands, making her
look up.  There was something in his eyes, lined in his face, that she
had never seen before.

"You- what-"  She was stopped, speechless, as T'keth dropped her hands
and reached out to gently touch her face.  Slowly, hesitantly, as unsure
of himself as Callana had ever seen him, he kissed her.

"I want to touch you," he breathed, her earlier rebuff of his hand on
her shoulder coming back.  Her heart racing, lost for words, she could
only nod.

	[End Flashback/Dream]

<Blade!  Answer me!>

Callana awoke from her trance, staring down at the finished dragon
figurine in her hands.  Furl looked so incredibly life-like, it made her
heart ache.  She realized then, that the ache was already there- it had
been for a long, long time.  If anyone had seen her just then, they
would have been shocked at the sadness etched into her face.  She was
distant, a lost expression, her face drawn and twisted with anguish,
eyes dark and haunted with pain.  She was ashen, the dark shadows around
her eyes only deepening her mask of despair.

<Slaire?> she returned, the inner pain reflecting in her mind-voice.

<Are you all right, Blade?  I could hear some of your thoughts, and I->

<I'm.. fine,> she replied, with a small mental laugh.

<How many times have you said that, and how often did I believe you now,
hmm?> Slaire rebuffed, snorting delicately.  <Please.  Give me a little
credit.>

<Oh, come on,> Callana sighed.  <Don't tell me you don't remember...>

<More than you do, that's for sure.  And you thought of his rider a lot
more than you ever let on.>

<I'm finished.. the one of Furl.. the one I started so long ago..> she
sent hesitantly after a moment.  <I finally finished it.>

<You must be feeling better.. but why do you sound so sad?>  Slaire was
not letting her rider get out of the topic at hand so easily.  Callana
squirmed a bit, her hand laying on the other small silk bundle.  She put
it away, too tired to finish it tonite.

After a long, long silence, Slaire was considering a late night snack
when she heard her rider's voice next.

<Some people find true love.  Others find their heart's desire.  A few
are lucky enough to get both in one.  It seemed so silly to get caught
up in something like that.. it seemed burdensome, with everything one
felt for the other.  I .. I never knew what I was missing.. until it was
gone.>

<You always were the strong one,> Slaire sighed.  <But he's dead.  It's
time to move on.>  Her stomach rumbled, still contemplating that snack.

<And how often have you told me that?> Callana shot back.  <Can't I keep
the memories?  It's just a little easier to bear.. to remember the good
things... and how do you know heās dead?>

Slaire couldnāt answer that.  She was hungry.  All she sent was, <Be
careful.>

<You know I don't lapse like that any more.>  Callana's mind-voice was
nearly a whisper.

<You just did.  You've been carving for four hours.>  Slaire had cleared
out her dinner kill already.

Callana looked down at the small pile of carving waste in her laps and
sighed.  <It wasn't so bad this time.  'Koda said it was good for me to
face my memories.. even the good ones.. I have to some time.  Better I
remember while I'm alone in my quarters, than say, on patrol...>

<But what if something goes wrong?  What if you have a waking nightmare
again?>

<I don't get those any more.>  Her tone said 'end of discussion' and
Slaire was silent.  Callana put away her tools, cleaned up the shards,
and set the finished dragon on a shelf by her bed.  She did not relish
the prospect of falling asleep, and fervently hoped her memories were
done with her, that they wouldn't bother her sleep.

<Goodnight, Blade,> Slaire sighed.  <I'm going to sleep.  Don't get up
if you hear me leaving- you know my night flights.  I- I'm used to the
dark..>

<You and I both, love.  You and I both.  Goodnight.  Pleasant flight.>

Callana carefully put her tools away and deposited her gems and such on
a nearby shelf to organize later.  She shed her clothing, pulling on a
short white linen shift and a longer robe.  She pulled back the fresh,
new quilt, the blankets and sheets beneath, kicked off her slippers,
shed her robe again, and lay in bed praying morning would come soon.

-------------
NRPG:  Just a little post to continue Callana's past.  Hope I got this
backpost thing right!

Submitted by,
Keri Rodgers
Callana Blade & Slaire

-------------