He wanted desperately to return to the search for Jadain, Jayleigh was so 
frantic.  But, he had Cal'an to worry about.  What did he know about 
seven-year-old boys?

<Dyanisa is offering to help,> Amadith spoke.

Tair'n considered for a moment.  He wasn't sure she knew any better than he 
did what to do, but it couldn't hurt.

<Okay, tell her to meet me at my apartment.>

He cast an apologetic look at Jayleigh as he walked Cal'an out and over to 
the steps leading to their apartment-- useful now that they had a landbound 
child to worry about.  Cal'an acted like an automaton, and Tair'n could 
guess the kind of shock he was in.  He remembered Velara's death and how he 
had reacted.

R'ven was still out searching for Jadain.  Tair'n lit the lamps and sat the 
boy on the bed, wondering what to say.  They sat silently for a few 
moments.  Where was Dyanisa?

"I guess you'll be staying here now," Tair'n offered.

Cal'an nodded.

"You'll have your own room.  We've been using it as a spare for when... 
well... when one of us didn't want to sleep in the main room, but we can do 
without."

Another nod.

"I guess we'll move your things over tomorrow.  Is there anything you need 
tonight?"

"Jamas."

"Okay, well... we could get those, or you could just use one of our shirts 
or something."

"Okay."

"Hello?" Dyanisa's voice called.

Tair'n sprang up from the couch, relieved, and went and let the woman in.

"Hi.  Thanks for offering to help.  Come in."

She entered and went and sat by Cal'an, studying his face quietly.

"Cal'an, this is Dyanisa.  Nisa, this is my... son, Cal'an," Tair'n introduced.

Both said brief 'hi's.  Great.  Two of the least talkative people in the warren.

"I'll... um... just go find something for Cal'an to wear for pajamas."

Neither one said anything, and so he shrugged and left.

Since the main bedroom was almost entirely taken up with the huge bed, they 
had kept most of their clothes in the spare room.  He realised as he dug 
through, looking for something suitable, that they'd have to make room for 
Cal'an's things.  It shouldn't be hard, since they'd gone through most of 
Velara's effects.

He paused, studying the outfits in one drawer.  Gods, he couldn't leave 
these in a seven-year-old's room.  Speaking of which, would Cal'an need a 
talking to about knocking before going in the main bedroom?  And what would 
he think of R'ven sharing his father's bed?  What would he think of the 
*other* people who occasionally shared his father's bed?  How much about 
sex should a seven-year-old know?

Tair'n groaned, quietly, and grabbed a laundry basket, emptying the 
contents of the drawer into it and then quickly covering it with other 
clothes.  He carried the basket out of the spare room-- Cal'an's room, he 
corrected-- and into the living room on his way to the main bedroom.

Dyanisa, holding a crying Cal'an, glanced up to see what he was doing.  He 
smiled.

"Just getting some stuff out of there so he has more room.  Be back in a 
second with a sleep shirt."

Soon, they had Cal'an in a sleep shirt and tucked into the bed.  Dyanisa 
insisted that they both stay with the boy till he fell asleep.  When the 
boy's sobs finally deepened into slow breaths, they tiptoed out.

"Thanks, Nisa," Tair'n said.

"Welcome," she answered.  "Goodnight."

He let her out, then collapsed onto the couch.  Only then did the enormity 
of it all hit him.  His father was dead.  And he had a seven-year-old son, 
whose Da had died tonight, whose friend was missing.  Gods, how was he 
supposed to cope with this?

******

He started awake to R'ven packing.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Shh!" R'ven hushed him.  "We don't need to wake the boy."

"Okay," Tair'n whispered, "what are you doing?"

"Packing," R'ven answered.

Tair'n sat, studying his mate.  "Why?" he asked with as much emotion as a 
whisper could muster.

"You and Cal'an need some time alone, and I don't want to cramp you here."

"But we're mates!"

"Tai, we can still be mates... later.  I just think you need some time alone."

"No, don't do this to me, R'ven.  I don't know what to do with a kid.  I 
need your help."

R'ven kissed him.  "That's exactly why you don't need me here.  You need to 
be with him and adjust to him.  And he needs time to be with you and have 
you to himself.  You need to get to know each other without distractions.  
I'll be back some time tomorrow to get the rest of my things."

"Where are you going tonight?  Can't you just stay tonight?"

"I know of some empty apartments.  Tai, it's not the end of the world.  
I'll be back... if you want me."

Tair'n followed his lover to the apartment exit.  "Don't leave me, Ven.  
Please, don't leave me."

"I'm not leaving you, Tai."

"Yes, you are!"

R'ven's eyes softened.  "Look, you're tired and overstressed and you're not 
thinking straight.  I'll see you tomorrow, love."

And he turned...

and walked out.

Tair'n stood, watching the closed door, waiting for it to open and R'ven to 
come back in, but it remained closed.

R'ven had left him.

Everyone always left him.

No one ever came back.

Tair'n leaned against the door, letting the tears spring to his eyes.

******

"Hello?"

Tair'n tear-stained eyes looked up to see the image of his younger self 
standing there-- the one who had made R'ven leave him.  "What do you want?" 
he asked, sullenly, then took another drink of the bitter stuff Velara had 
so adored.

"I heard you out here and wondered if everything's all right."

"Everything's just fine."

"It's the middle of the night," Cal'an noted.

"So it is."

"Don't you think you ought to sleep?"

"Don't you think you ought to shut up?"

The boy's eyes widened in surprise.  "I was just trying to help."

"Oh, you helped a whole lot!  Now go 'way."

"But, what's wrong?"

Tair'n took another swallow and stood.

"I don't think you should be drinking that--"

"Shut up!"  Tair'n spun at the boy in a sudden rage.  How dare he judge?  
How dare he?  How dare he?  "Shut up!  Shut up!"

<Tair'n, no!> Amadith screamed in his head.

But it was too late.

Cal'an cried out as the blow landed.

There was a moment of shocked silence.

Blood was pouring through Cal'an's fingers.

"Oh, gods."  Tair'n dropped the mug, heedless of it shattering on the 
floor, its amber liquid spreading.  He dropped beside his son and pulled 
Cal'an's hand away from his nose.  "Oh, gods, Cal'an, I'm sorry.  I don't 
know what... I don't know what came over me.  Here... tip your head 
back..."

"I have to go to the Medical Center," Cal'an said, his voice muffled my 
Tair'n's ministrations.

"No!  No, you don't need to do that.  Not for a nose bleed."

"I've got to.  It won't stop."

"Of course it will stop," Tair'n assured him.  <Oh, gods, what have I done? 
I hit him.  Oh, gods...>

"It won't.  I'm a bleeder."

Tair'n stopped.  "A what?"

"Bleeder.  Hemo... hemophiliac."

"Oh, gods!"  Tair'n scooped the boy up in his arms and carried him out to 
where Amadith stood, pacing in alarm.

There was something going on in the rest of the warren, but Tair'n was too 
preoccupied to notice.  He climbed up on Amadith, carrying Cal'an, and 
tersely ordered the dragon to the Medical Center.

******

He sat and waited.  Would Cal'an tell?  What had he done?  How could he do 
such a thing?

I don't know what came over me....

I don't know what....

I don't know what came over me.  I love you, baby.  No one else loves you.  
You forgive your mother?  You won't tell?

He shook his head.  Where had that come from?

He looked down at his hands and realised they were covered in Cal'an's 
blood-- his son's blood.

Tair'n rose and went to the bathroom and washed, and cried, and washed some 
more, and then was sick, and washed some more.

And the voice of his mother reverberated in his head.  I don't know what 
came over me...  I love you baby...  No one else loves you...  You forgive 
your mother...  Forgive your mother...

And with it, the long-buried memory of pain, and tears, and blood.

Respectfully submitted,
 Lynette R. F. Cowper
  Tair'n and Amadith

NRPG: Well, there's my bomb.

---
|   Lynette R. F. Cowper  *  Official INWO Rules NetRep & Goddess    |
| http://www.io.com/~lcowper  *  lcowper@io.com  *  lcowper@indy.net |
|  "If people never did silly things, nothing intelligent would ever |
|                   get done."  -- L. Wittgenstein                   |