Almiron awoke to his second day of training.  He was still puzzled over 
Darlea's behaviour.  On the one hand, she seemed excited to hear he was 
taking an apartment, and had even asked to see it, and was generally 
friendly and physically affectionate to him.  On the other, she also 
appeared to be on good terms with V'rdeen, even though she knew the 
smirking boy's attitude toward Almiron.

It made no sense to him.  Of course, he had little enough experience with
women, as his mother had died in birthing him, and he had no sisters or
aunts.  In fact, his only close contact with women had been his eldest
brothers' wives and the various slaves kept by his extended family,
especially the two women his father kept.  But, he had never been close to
his sisters-in-law and one did not stoop to discussing relationships with
slaves.  Thus, he was left with only distant observation and those things 
he could conclude were common to all humans.

<What if V'rdeen hurts her?> he thought to himself.

Darshan yawned and considered the question, even though he knew it wasn't 
directed at him.  <Such a thing could be dangerous to her, and to your 
child, if there is one.>

Almiron's stomach twisted at the thought.  While he was hoping there was 
no child, he didn't like the idea of such a child being hurt if it 
existed.  Yet, Darlea wasn't aware of the chance of it existing, and thus 
had no reason to be extra cautious.  And yet to tell her and worry her 
unnecessarily was equally unconscionable.  He would have to bear it alone.

<Not alone, pet.  Never alone,> Darshan reminded him.

<You are right, my friend.  Thank you.>

He arose, washed and dressed quickly, his body already tasting the 
awaiting hug from Darlea.

******

There was no indication, positive or negative, of the status of Darlea's 
fertility, though he had not really expected anything this soon.  Her hug 
was warm, though he felt a hint of desire in it as well.

"Did you get all moved in?" she asked.

"Yes, except for removing stain on floor of old apartment."

"Do I get to see your new one soon?"

The uncertainty flared within him.  "I... haven't got everything put away 
yet.  It is very messy."

Darlea laughed.  "I've heard about your idea of messy.  I'm sure it's
fine.  I'll come help you put things away, since I couldn't help you the
other day."

Almiron considered.  He still didn't understand, but perhaps she had her 
reasons.  "I would be happy to show you.  After lunch?"

"That'd be fine."  She turned and waved as Malekith landed, "Hi, Wynn.  
You're late this morning."

"Had trouble getting Evelle up this morning," the wingleader said with a 
grin, patting Almiron's shoulder in greeting.  Almiron was momentarily 
flooded with the sensations from Wynn's body, sensations of a body that 
had recently made love.  It was not the first time he had felt this from 
Wynn.  Indeed, he wasn't sure he'd ever felt different upon contact with 
the Gamma wingleader in the morning.

<A man who knows what's important in life,> Darshan cracked, <unlike most 
of you silly humans.>

Almiron quietly shook his head, a smile on his lips, and focused on what 
Wynn was saying.

******

Darlea had liked his apartment, though at the moment it was quite 
spartan, and had pitched right in to the job of putting away his few 
possessions.  Almiron occupied himself with arranging his few remaining 
wares, his mind still ranging over the question of her behaviour and 
whether he should ask her about it.  Fortunately, V'rdeen hadn't been in 
the dining hall for lunch, but Almiron had avoided the topic, focusing 
instead on how well Darlea was doing in their training.

He set out a leather barrette and his mind suddenly registered the 
colours on it.  It had originally been white, with a golden dragon.  It 
had taken a dousing of blue dye in the vandalism.  The white was now a 
mottled pale blue, like a cloudy sky, with an emerald green dragon flying 
through it.  The green was a perfect match for Makayla.  He sat down on 
the bed, studying it.  Yes, he concluded, it was precisely Makayla's 
colour, and the blue would offset Darlea's eyes perfectly.  How could so 
horrible an act have created something so perfect?

"Hey, you," Darlea's voice interrupted, "taking a break so soon?"

He smiled up at her, standing before him in mock indignation, hands on
hips.  "Actually, I was thinking this barrette would be perfect for you."

"You must be pretty desperate for sales," she said, smiling to show she 
was joking, and not yet looking at the item.  He held it out to her.  Her 
eyes widened and she studied it.  "It's beautiful.  Why, it looks like 
Makayla!"

"You like it?"

"Yes, I do, but--"

"Then it is gift.  For you."

"Almiron, you can't go giving stuff away or you'll never rebuild your stock."

He fixed his eyes on hers, somewhat surprised that she hadn't understood 
the significance of the apartment.  "I don't need to; I'm staying."  He 
took her hand and laid the barrette in it.

She looked confused.  "Makayla said that Darshan told her you were 
staying for a while, but..."

"No, you don't understand.  I'm staying."

It took a moment for the words to sink in, then a smile spread across her 
face and he found himself tackled, her lovely body pressed against his.  
"I'm so glad to hear that!"

He slipped his arms around her, returning her hug.  He felt his desire for
her suddenly grow, as his body responded to hers against it.  In their
close proximity, there was no way she couldn't have known.  Indeed, he
knew she hadn't missed feeling it.  There was a slight delay, and then her
body flushed in response.

She pulled her head back so that she could look at his face.  He felt
momentarily like he was falling upward into the blue of her eyes, knowing
what yearning must be showing in his eyes and no longer caring.  Then,
answering the desire they both felt, she lowered her face to his, their
lips meeting.  He gave himself up to the world that was Darlea, that was
the pleasures of her body, his worries and perplexities swallowed up in
his sensations, and hers.

******

They lay together afterward, breathing slowing, pulses calming, the
occassional muscle twitching as it unwound from that sudden release from
the wonderful tension that was lovemaking, warming each other as the sweat
of their exertions dried and chilled them.  She squirmed as his fingers, 
lazily tracing patterns on her back, tickled her.  He smiled at the 
delicious sensations her movement sent coursing through him and drew her 
closer.  They lay quietly, simply enjoying the feel of each other.

Finally, she sighed and drew back far enough to be able to look into his 
face.  "Almiron, now that you're definitely staying for good, don't you 
think it would be best to accept V'rdeen's apology?"

His brows drew together in perplexity.  "What apology?"

"You know.  He told me the other day that he had apologised, but that 
you..."  Her words died as his face continued to register confusion.  
"Didn't he apologise to you?"

"No.  He's never even talked to me."

She fell silent, absorbing this news.  He felt her body begin to tremble 
and pulled her close as she said, "He lied to me.  He lied to me, and I 
believed him."

"I am sorry.  Perhaps... perhaps he thought someone else had carried his 
message to me."

"No.  He said he had and that you'd rejected it.  And I believed him.  I 
feel so stupid."

She began to cry, angrily.  He ran his fingers through her hair, trying to
sooth her.  "No, you aren't stupid.  You are forgiving and generous--
admirable quality.  That he used that in his favour is on his head, not
yours.  Don't be so hard on yourself."

She cried for a while and he comforted her as best he could till she 
calmed.  They spent the rest of the afternoon, till dinner time, working 
and talking, telling each other of their lives.  He told her of his 
tribe, of his family, of holidays and feasts and happy times.  He 
couldn't bring himself to tell her of Rumalin.  Not yet.  She told of 
growing up in the warren, of her father and mother and friends.  He 
secretly envied her connectedness to the past and her closeness to her 
family.  These were things he could not even begin to fathom.  He 
wondered if she knew how fortunate she was.

******

A week passed and Wynn told the two that he felt they were ready to join 
Gamma Wing in their team exercises and patrols.  Almiron and Wynn had 
both been supportive of Darlea in her training and she had shown good 
progress, but neither knew whether she would ever feel truly comfortable 
in a combat wing, but she agreed to join the exercises.

******

Another week passed.  Almiron was beginning to think he would go crazy 
with the waiting.  He could tell from the sensations he got from her that 
her period had yet to arrive, but that she also wasn't suffering any of 
the symptoms of pregnancy.  It was still too early to tell, but it 
worried at him.

He had noticed that Hedda watched him closely during drills and 
exercises, as if sizing him up.  He didn't know what to think of it and 
didn't know her well enough to feel comfortable asking, so the scrutiny 
just added to his general sense of foreboding.

******

Another week passed.  M'tan had gotten into the habit of giving him a 
questioning look at lunch, worrying over Almiron's dilemma with Darlea, 
but Almiron had only been able to answer with a shake of his head as the 
weeks dragged by.

He spent a good deal of his free time with M'tan, Aleta and Benna.  M'tan
struggled to find the middle ground between being too affectionate and
being too distant.  Aleta's presence added to the tension, but the two 
men had some time without her, which helped.

Aleta went from somewhat tense, cold and distant to slowly relaxing around
Almiron.  In the privacy of her apartment with Benna, especially, she lost
a lot of her gruff nature.  She sometimes seemed genuinely fond of
Almiron, but then she would grow distant again.  He didn't know what to 
think.

Benna was delighted to have someone who spoke her mother's tongue and 
knew the songs her mother knew, though Almiron had only an average singing 
voice.  He soon went from plain "Almiron" to "Uncle Almiron," a title 
that brought back fond memories of his own Uncle Almiron-- his mother's 
brother and the tribe's healer, deeply touched by Hehran.

His relationship to Darlea was also evolving.  They saw each other every
day during exercises and patrol.  They also occasionally ate meals
together or did other things.  And once or twice a week, they made love.

He didn't understand quite where he stood with her.  She had never 
mentioned moving in together and seemed perfectly happy with things as 
they were, but he felt odd to be so intimate with someone, but still 
without limitations on his other relationships.

******

4 weeks.  4 weeks and still nothing.

"Are you sure you didn't just miss it?" M'tan asked, during a visit that 
fell on the 4-week anniversary of Makayla's mating flight.

"I'm sure.  She has to be worried by now.  She has to have some
suspicion."  He glanced at Benna, sprawled on the floor, drawing.  She was
a half-breed, as his child with Darlea would be.  As the weeks had passed
and he had grown more and more fond of the child, he had grown more to
like the idea of a child of his own.  But not this way.  Not with a
15-year-old mother who had never given her okay.

M'tan patted him on the back.  "I don't know how this is going to work 
out, but it'll be okay."  Under his hand, he felt the tension in Almiron's 
muscles and, without thought, started rubbing, working out the knots.  
Almiron moaned softly and M'tan guiltily stopped.  "I'm sorry.  Is that 
bothering you?"

"No.  Please continue.  I am just so tense."

M'tan tentatively continued, slowly working back into his earlier 
rhythm.  "So you met D'nar today.  How was that?"

"Much better than I expected.  I thought he would be like her mother."

M'tan chuckled.  "No one's like Sheltie."

"Mmmm.  He was very nice man.  I like him."

"That's good.  Just don't fall in love with him.  Falling in love with a 
father and daughter would be very bad form," M'tan said with a laugh.

Almiron tensed and then turned to look at him.  "I'm not in love with 
Darlea... at least, I don't think I am.  Am I?"

M'tan considered the question.  "Hm.  No, I guess not.  You care for her
deeply, but there's a difference between loving someone and being in love
with them."

"Yes.  I know," Almiron said quietly.

M'tan knew Almiron's thoughts were directed at him and at the difference 
in their feelings for each other.  "I'm sorry, Almiron.  I really am."

******

The next day, Darlea's greeting was a little wan.  When she hugged him, 
he felt the nausea and his stomach dropped.  "Are you okay?" he asked as 
they pulled apart.

"I think I ate something that didn't sit well.  I'm thinking of skipping 
out today."

He nodded.  "I think that would be best.  Perhaps you should go to medical
center." 

She laughed.  "It's not that bad.  I feel kind of guilty not joining you 
for the exercises, in fact."

She hugged him again and then turned and left.  He watched her mount 
Makayla and head back to her apartment, his thoughts flying in every 
direction.

The day crawled toward lunch.  He recieved word that the DragonLady 
wished to speak to him, at his convenience.  He decided to eat first.  
M'tan would be there and he needed someone to talk to.  Besides, he was 
more than a little frightened of what Christalla wished to say to him.

M'tan's eyes met his in silent question and he found himself unable to 
nod, only look at the older man in silent pleading.  M'tan hurriedly 
excused himself and pulled Almiron out of the dining hall and into a 
private conference room that was not in use.

"You okay?" he asked.

"She was sick to her stomach this morning," Almiron answered quietly.

"Oh, dear gods.  I had hoped that her lateness was just normal teenage 
variance."  He looked into Almiron's eyes, brimming with tears.  "I guess 
not."

Almiron shook his head and tried to speak, but only a sob came out.

M'tan enfolded him in a hug, rocking him as hot tears spilled down his 
cheeks.  Finally, when the tears had subsided, M'tan pushed him to arm's 
length and looked into his tearstained face.  "This isn't the end of the 
world, okay?  You have friends here and Darlea has family to help out.  
You don't need to face this alone.  Okay?"

Almiron nodded.

"Okay.  Come have some lunch.  Things never look quite so bad on a full 
stomach."

Almiron dried his face with his shirtsleeve, made sure his ponytail was 
still intact, and composed his face into that impassive mask he did so 
well.  M'tan looked at the results and smiled.  "I wish I knew how you 
did that.  You could do wonders at the gaming tables."  The comment 
elicitted a smile.  "Aha!  Maybe not.  Come on."

With that, the two headed into the Dining Hall.

Almiron ate poorly, finding the food strangely tasteless, and then 
excused himself.

Christalla had taken an early lunch, as she had been ravenously hungry 
after very little breakfast.  She called her usual "Come in" to the 
rather tentative knock at the door.

Almiron entered, looking nervous.  "You wished to see me, DragnLady?"

"Yes, Almiron, please come in and sit down," she said, pasting a smile on 
her face.

<I may not be that good at reading humans,> Darshan commented, <but that 
smile looks false even to me.>

<Hush you!  She is just being polite,> Almiron shot back as Christalla 
began talking.

He looked like he would bolt any second now.  She decided to dispense with
the pleasantries and get this over with, for both their benefits.  "It's
come to my attention that someone ransacked your room about a month ago
and destroyed most of your leather goods." 

Almiron shifted uncomfortably.  "Yes, Lady.  I... did not wish to cause 
more hard feeling by pursuing it."

"Be that as it may, you should have been compensated for your losses."

"There is no need--"

"Yes, there is.  Someone at Keldarra destroyed most of your stock.  I'll 
not let that go.  I won't have someone blackening the name of Keldarra.  
Understood?"

Almiron nodded.

"Good.  Now, if you could come up with an estimate of your losses, we'll 
see what we can do."

"It will take few day."

"That's fine.  Just come to me when you've got it figured out, okay?"

"Yes.  Thank you, DragonLady."  He stood and headed for the door.

"And, Almiron, I want an honest estimate.  I have some idea what all was 
lost."

Almiron turned, eyes blazing.  "I would never cheat you!"

She smiled.  "No, but I expect you would cheat yourself by
underestimating, and I don't want that."

Almiron blushed.  She was right, of course.  "I will try to be accurate.  
My apologies for misunderstanding."

He fled the office, relieved.

******

Darlea was at exercises the next morning.  When he hugged her, rather 
than the expected nausea, he felt dizziness, cramps and an extremely 
heavy flow of menstrual blood.  Relief flowed through him and he hugged 
her even tighter.  She stumbled slightly as she stepped back from the 
embrace and he steadied her.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she replied, though she was really somewhat worried.  She had 
never had a period quite this bad.  But, perhaps it was just that it had 
been unusually late.  She had considered missing exercises again today, 
but had felt badly about missing them the day before.  And the flying 
helped her forget the cramps.

Almiron watched her closely the rest of the morning, but Makayla had 
sensed her rider's dizziness and was extra cautious.

******

M'tan sensed Almiron's elation and once again pulled him out of the 
Dining Hall and into the conference room.

"What's up?"

"She isn't pregnant."

"What?"

"Her period started today."

"You're sure?"

"Yes.  It was impossible to miss-- very heavy.  It must really have been 
something she ate.  I'm so relieved."

"I'm glad to hear that.  Come on, let's go eat."  But as he followed the 
younger man out, he thought <'Very heavy'?>

<What of it?> Zareth asked.

<Probably nothing.  Just odd.>

******

Almiron spent the next several days blissfully free of crises.  With his 
mind free of worries, he began working on several special projects, but 
only in his apartment with Darshan standing guard against surprise visitors.

With the help of Briana, he wrote up a list of his losses and estimates 
of their value.  Though he intentionally estimated on the low side, 
Christalla was still shocked by the value when he brought the list to her.

"If you think it is too high, I can adjust--"

"No, no.  I expect it's already on the low side."

Almiron nodded.

She bit her lip.  "Well, we obviously can't provide this in coin..."

"I have little need for coin now that I am staying."

"True.  We can provide quite a bit of stock in leather and leather dyes, 
but even that won't fully compensate you."  Her brows drew together in 
thought.

"If I might make suggestion..."

"Please, do."

"It is difficult to sell good out of my apartment, since it is only 
reachable by dragon... and Darshan resents playing ferry."

"I can see that."

"Also, it is not easy to work on large project in apartment..."

"You want a ground-level shop," she concluded.

"Yes, for time.  After while, I can pay rent."

"I think we can arrange space for you in the leatherworker's shop, if 
that's acceptable."

"Yyyess..." he said doubtfully.

"Problem?" she asked.

"It is just... I would like some way to secure my good when I am not 
around-- in case."

She nodded grimly.  His caution was, unfortunately, justified.  "We'll 
arrange for several locking display and supply cabinets.  Will that do?"

He nodded.

"Good.  Now all we have to work out is how much leather, how much dye, 
and how long you get rent-free."  She pulled out a piece of paper and 
began working on figures.

In the end, they came to an agreeable conclusion.  She was actually quite 
happy to see that the leatherworker was interested in continuing his 
craft.  Such wares coming from Keldarra could do them nothing but good.  
He was delighted to have received any compensation at all and he had 
gotten his own work area as well.  He painfully read through the simple 
agreement and signed his name above Christalla's, with Evelle and M'tan 
called in to stand as witnesses.

******

"Almiron, can I speak with you?" Hedda asked as they landed outside the 
Dining Hall for lunch after a morning on patrol.

"Of course.  Would you care to join me for lunch?"

"That'll work."

They grabbed bowls of stew and settled at a table off by themselves, 
chatting about nothing important.  After a time, he asked, "What did you 
wish to discuss?"

"Well," Hedda began, "as you may or may not know, the wings have 
divisions within them called 'flights,' for when the wing needs to be 
doing two or more things at once.  Wynn has named me Flightleader of 
Gamma's second flight.  I've spent some time considering who I'd like as 
my flightsecond and watching you.  You've impressed me.  You have a good 
head for tactics and you fly like you and Darshan were one creature."

Almiron blushed.  "Thank you."

"I'd like you to be my second, if you're willing."

Almiron considered, surprised.  Finally, he spoke.  "It will be unpopular 
decision with many, you know.  There is small element that still sees me 
as warrenless and some who dislike me because I am wild rider."

"I know.  But I don't find other's prejudice to be an important 
consideration for leadership."

Almiron smiled.  He had heard her story.  "Very well.  As long as you have 
considered possible problem, I would be honoured."

He decided to celebrate by inviting M'tan, Aleta, Benna and Darlea to 
dinner the next day at his apartment.  Darlea brought him into the 
kitchens to scout out spices when her mother was away.  He wanted to 
prepare some dishes from his own culture, but didn't know the DragonLands 
names for all the spices.  They quickly gathered together all the 
ingredients for the meal and snuck out, grinning at each other like two 
thieves who had gotten away with a fortune.

Darlea wanted to come early the next day to help with the preparations, 
but he insisted she not arrive until the meal was ready.  He disappeared 
for the better part of two days.

When they all arrived, it was Darlea who noticed the change in his 
appearance with a gasp.  "Almiron, your hair!"  His hair that had 
extended halfway down his back was now shoulder length.

He fingered his ponytail self-consciously.  "I cut it."

"Why?" asked M'tan.

Almiron smiled.  "You will see later."

M'tan shook his head and produced a bottle of wine.  "Hope this works 
with whatever you fixed."

"It will be fine.  Thank you."

He started them with an appetiser of marinated vegetables, some of which 
were obviously not from the warren kitchens, then excused himself to the 
combined kitchen-dining area to pour the wine, set the food on and 
arrange his surprise.

As he led them into the room, there were 'Mmmms' of appreciation for the 
spicy aromas in the room, then curious questions as they spied the three 
colourfully wrapped packages on the table.  Upon investigation, they 
found each package had a name attached, one for each adult guest.

"Please open, one at time so I can watch, and then we will eat."

Darlea's was a belt and ridin gloves to match the barrette he had given 
her.  She rewarded him with a long kiss, which left him red in the face 
for some minutes.

Aleta's contained an intricately-tooled riding jacket, edged with leafy 
vines that set off her eyes.  She thanked him quietly, overwhelmed.

M'tan's was a tehdahkh board, with an intricate border, and wooden 
pieces, each piece carved and coloured to look suspiciously like various 
Keldarra personalities.  "Almiron, I..."  He paused, searching for the 
right expression of gratitude.  "Ah, hell!" he exclaimed, rose from his 
seat and gave his host a hug.

Benna had grown more excited as the gifts were opened.  Now, she could no 
longer contain herself.  "Where's mine?" she asked, bouncing in her seat.

"Ummmm..." began M'tan, looking at Almiron uncertainly.

"I will get it," Almiron answered her, eyes dancing.

He produced a lumpy package, wrapped in cloths this time, from behind a 
jar on a shelf.  Benna pulled open the cloth wrappings with a squeal and 
stared spellbound at what lay within.

"What is it?" Aleta asked.

Benna carefully withdrew a doll from the wrappings.  Her head, arms and
legs had been carved from wood and were coloured a light tan.  The arms
and legs were jointed.  The body was made of some soft, supple leather. 
Two sets of clothes and a tiny pair of leather shoes also lay within.  The
eyes were a dark brown and the hair, black, soft, and straight.  And real. 
Aleta glanced from the doll's hair to Almiron's and smiled.

Benna was talking excitedly, switching between DragonLands and Horse 
Nomads tongues.  Almiron let her run on while he served food.

M'tan took a bite and immediately reached for his water glass.  After 
half emptying it, he commented, "Gods, that's hot."

"Really?" Almiron asked in concern.  "I toned it down."

"It's good, I just wasn't expecting the heat."

"Sour cream cuts spiciness," Almiron explained, passing the bowl of 
it to M'tan.

M'tan stirred some in to the dish and tried again, nodding in approval.

Once they all achieved the right blend of sour cream in the entree, the 
diners enjoyed the meal immensely.  Almiron ended it with the one dish 
that didn't come from his culture, producing a bucket filled with ice, 
inside which was a large bowl, inside which was a creamy frozen something.

M'tan, chastened by his last experience, took a small bite this time.  
"This is good.  What is it?"

"Recipe I learned from cook at another warren.  He called it ice cream."

Aleta glanced at the ice cream left in the bowl, which she estimated to 
be a good-sized second helping for each of them and then some.  "This is 
good, but I don't think we'll be able to finish all that."

"It is okay-- I'll give what is left to Darshan.  He loves it."

The whole table burst out laughing at the thought of the dragon downing 
the creamy confection.

<Hmmph!  I don't see what's so funny,> Darshan complained.

******

The days passed swiftly.  There was excitement in the air the closer the 
clutch was to hatching.  The only dark spot in Almiron's life was the 
reaction of some of the members of Gamma Wing to his elevation to 
Flightsecond.  He knew some had requested of Wynn that they not be 
assigned to the second flight.  But he had expected resistance and, 
sadly, accepted it.

His work in the leather shop was interrupted by dragons trumpetting.

<What is it, Darshan?>

<The eggs are hatching.  Hurry, pet, I want you to see.>

Almiron secured his goods and quickly hurried to the hatching grounds.  
He watched the joyous chaos that was a warren hatching, so different from 
his own fearful joining to Darshan.  It was odd to think that this would 
be the first of many such events he would attend, that he was a part of 
this joy.  He wiped away a tear as he strained to see who had joined the 
queen.

Respectfully submitted,
 Lynette R. F. Cowper
  Almiron and Darshan

NRPG: Whew!  The post that was years (okay, days) in the making is finally
done.  Hope you all didn't mind the length-- I had a lot I needed to cover
(I even left out a few things!).

Susan: I couldn't connect to the newsserver and I can't seem to get Betty 
added to my list of recipients.  Can you forward this, please?  Thanks.

 **********************************************************************
 * Lynette R. F. Cowper       *     Official INWO NetRep & Goddess    *
 * lcowper@io.com             *        Circle of Janus Secretary      *
 * lcowper@indy.net           *   VP of P.U.R.P.L.E. (People United   *
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 *     The INWO rulings I make are official.  All other opinions,     *
 *  discussions, deck ideas, card ideas, political beliefs, etc. are  *
 *  my own and not those of Steve Jackson Games, the Circle of Janus, *
 *                        or P.U.R.P.L.E.  Fnord.                     *
 **********************************************************************