Trey sat and listened to Diana tell about her life, about Darrin, about
their friendship and how they had become mates, while he drank his tea.  
Her story made him think of his own.

When she came to the end of her story, he nodded and said, "Thank you for
telling me all this.  It helps me to understand you a little more. 
Although, as I said before, I recently have lost also, so we are alike in
that way."

"All I know of you is that you came from Telnor and that you and
Warrenlady Ophelia used to be mates and that you used to be a wingleader,"
Diana said.  "Would you care to share your story with me?  If not, I will
understand."

Trey stared into his tea for a moment as trying to think what to say or
how much.  "Well..." he began.  He couldn't think what to say.  His
stomach grumbled and he grinned wryly.  "Why don't I talk while I cook? 
I'm a better talker when I can be up and doing something."

She looked surprised, as she had looked earlier as he had fixed the tea.

"I cook, really," he assured her.  "Although I've never cooked for one 
and the last decade or so, I've been cooking for five.  So, I'd really 
like to cook for someone else or I'll never finish all I'll fix."

She laughed.  "All right."

He collected both their cups.  "You can sit at the table and I'll talk at 
you there.  Fried chicken okay?"

"Fine," she said as she followed him into the kitchen.  He got into the 
icebox and pulled out a chicken, already cut up, as she settled at the 
table.  She watched as he gathered together batter ingredients, mixing in 
herbs, and began heating oil in a skillet on the stove.

"Anyhow," he began, "your story with Darrin sounds a lot like mine with
Ophelia.  I was searched at 14 by Ophelia's uncle B'larin.  She was 17,
then.  She joined and I didn't.  B'larin took me in.  Ophelia and I became
friends.  Despite the age difference, we fell in love over the four years
I was there unjoined.  It was frustrating for me to remain unjoined so
long and it was frustrating for her because she yearned to enter combat
with the other riders and couldn't because she was a queenrider.  And my
unjoined status kept us both from expressing our feelings.  All that
changed with my joining to Koroth.  Within a week, Ophelia and I became
mates."  He talked while he worked-- placing pieces of battered chicken in
the skillet, tossing together a salad, turning the chicken, and so on--
completely at ease in the kitchen.

He continued.  "It was the perfect match.  Everyone said so.  We knew we'd
never leave each other, so we started our family early."  He stepped away
from the stove and picked up a book made up of pages sewn together and
handed it to Diana.  She opened it up and saw a drawing of Trey with the
woman she recognised as Ophelia of Telnor and three young people.  He
pointed out each as he spoke.  "That's Ophelia.  That's our daughter
Laria-- she's 15.  Those are our sons B'rin, 13, and Ph'let, 10. 
B'larin's somewhat of an artist.  Ophelia and I finally took all his
pictures and put them into some books.  She was nice enough to give me one
of them."

He fell silent and returned to the stove, using the interruption to cover
his battle with tears.  Diana flipped through the book, seeing picture
after picture of his children, sometimes alone and sometimes with Trey or
Ophelia, laughing, smiling, playing, happy.  What could have happened to 
end all that?

"Ophelia became Warrenlady.  It was a tough adjustment.  The year before 
that, I became Alpha Wingleader.  That was a tough adjustment, too.  But we 
managed."  He stopped, and sighed, shook his head.  He was quiet for a 
long time.

"What happened?" she finally asked.

He sighed again.  "Insanity happened."

She looked at him in surprise.  He reached up and drew his long hair back
to reveal the incision scar.  "I got... some sort of a growth on my brain. 
It... changed me.  I slowly lost the ability to control my impulses.  It
started small."  His eyes were distant and full of pain.  "Swearing,
yelling at Ophelia and the kids.  Then I began hitting people.

"I slowly betrayed everyone's trust in me.  I had a wingsecond, Retala. 
She came to me with problems with her mate.  He'd made wingleader of Gamma
Wing and wanted her to leave Alpha to become his wingsecond.  Some people
fight well next to their mates, others get crazy with worry.  Retala was
the second sort.  She didn't want to leave Alpha and fight next to him and
he resented it.  So she came to me to talk it out.  I took advantage of
her trust in me.  We ended up having an affair.  Ruined her relationship
with her mate.  Ruined mine with Ophelia.  We started maintaining this
front that we were happy, for the kids' sake, though they knew better.  
All forgiven, and all that shit."

He stopped again, setting the table.  He was silent as he served them 
both salad and sat down across from her.  She watched him expectantly.

"Eventually, I lost all control.  I... hurt Laria... badly.  When I came
to my senses and realised what I had done, I couldn't live with myself,
so..."  He nodded at his wrists.  He poked at his food a moment.  "Our
healer, R'chein figured it all out, operated and found the mass on my
brain.  But, it was too late.  As soon as I was well enough, Ophelia
transferred me here.

"End of story.  I still love her.  But, I don't expect I'll ever see her
again.  Probably won't ever see my children again, either.  She kept them
from me in fear that I would hurt them.  I can't blame her, really, but it
hurts like Hell."

He looked across the table at her where she was sitting, eyes wide.  He 
wondered if she had guessed how he had hurt Laria.  Did it matter if she 
heard now or later, as she surely would?  It didn't matter.  He couldn't 
tell her.  Instead, he smiled at her in apology.  "Breast?"

"What?" she asked in confusion.

"Would you like a chicken breast?"

"Oh, um, sure."

They ate in silence for a moment, then he said quietly, "I'd give anything
to have something external like a Malk Bromitz to blame all my grief on. 
Instead, I just have myself to blame.  You're fortunate in that respect."

Green eye and grey eye met her green eyes as she considered his words.

Respectfully submitted,
 Lynette R. F. Cowper
  Tr'etram and Koroth

NPRG: I said "lunch" in my last post, then realised this is probably 
closer to a late dinner.

Kat: Have fun.

 **********************************************************************
 * 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   *
 * http://www.io.com/~lcowper/*   Respecting Purple Legal Equality)   *
 **********************************************************************
 *     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.                     *
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