The two of them talked.  She seemed surprised and pleased by his cooking. 
Most people were for some reason-- they didn't expect a combat
dragonrider, a wingleader, to be a good cook.  But Trey had learned to
cook young when he had assisted his mother in the kitchens of his father
and master.  When she had died, the duty fell to him.  He had cooked for
the potter who had owned him slightly over a year.  He had cooked fairly
often for B'larin.  And he had cooked for Ophelia and the children
whenever they felt the need to have a family meal away from the eyes of
the warren.  He had always enjoyed seeing other people enjoy his cooking, 
as he enjoyed their surprise at his skill.

They talked about their lives a bit.  She assured him that part of love is
forgiveness, and surely his family would forgive and take him back.  But
he didn't think so.  He knew he had changed.  He had seen it in R'chein's
eyes-- the surprise when he did or said something the old Trey would never
do, followed by the realisation that this wasn't the old Trey, that this
was someone different.  Ophelia wouldn't necessarily love this new Trey. 
And there was Laria to think about.  Laria might forgive him, but that
didn't mean she'd ever feel safe with him.  Forgiveness and taking someone
back weren't the same thing.  But he couldn't explain that to Diana, for
to do so would be to explain precisely how horrible had been his crime.

She must have seen his sadness and felt a need to answer it, however, for
she got up, came to his side of the table and took one of his hands in
hers.  "If you ever need to talk or just need a friend to be with, I am
here.  We are a lot alike and I hope I can help you as you have helped
me."  He had helped her? he thought as she paused.  "I don't mean to be
presumptuous but I would like to be your friend."

He sat for a second in shock.  His friend?  The woman he had fought with,
had almost hit that morning was offering her friendship to him now?  It
seemed at once absurd and perfectly appropriate.  He squeezed her hand
gently.  "I... would be... delighted to call you friend.  But, I have to
warn you, I might be a dangerous person to have as a friend."  She started
to protest, but he went on.  "I'm not fully cured.  R'chein couldn't get
the whole mass without killing me or leaving me as a vegetable.  That
means I'm still not fully in control of my impulses, and it may get worse. 
I'm not saying this to scare you, Diana, I just want you to know to be
cautious with me, and to be especially careful if I start changing. 
Okay?"

Her expression was unreadable as she said a quiet, "Okay."

"But I'm thankful to have at least one person here I can call friend." 
And suddenly, he was crying.  She released his hand and he thought she had
backed off, probably, when he felt her arms slip around him.  He held her
as the emotions washed over him, all the grief and fear and loneliness of
the past month, of the past two days.  It was some time before he regained
some control.  He let go of her, realising she couldn't be in any way
comfortable in the position she was in to hold him, and used his napkin to
wipe his face.  "Sorry.  I seem to cry a lot easier since the operation."

"It's okay," she assured him, letting go of him and standing up.

He grinned suddenly.  "I'm certainly not the most manly man you've ever
met, I'm sure.  I've talked your ear off, cooked a meal and bawled like a
baby.  Besides all that, I also bake, sew and clean house."

She grinned back.  "Sounds like the perfect man to me."

Both their faces turned serious suddenly.  Their eyes met.  The statement 
hung between them.

He broke the eye contact first, looking away and clearing his throat 
nervously.  Long pause.  "Well, I... uh, I'm sorry I don't have any 
dessert."

"That's okay, the dinner was wonderful."

Another long pause.

"I... Diana, I think you need to go.  I'm sorry, but..."

"No, no.  That's okay, I understand.  Really."

"Sorry."

She waved away the apology.

"Perhaps we could get together tomorrow for breakfast... in the dining
hall," he offered.

"That would be nice.  I'd like that."

"Okay, well... I'll... um... see you tomorrow, then."  He stood, feeling 
suddenly awkward.  "I'll walk you to the ledge."

"Okay.  Zena's on her way."

They walked to the ledge and watched as the emerald flew in and landed.

She turned to him.  "Goodbye," she said quietly.

"Goodbye and thanks."

They stood awkwardly looking at each other for a moment, then she hugged
him, her arms slipping around him easily.  He responded automatically,
holding her.  He felt his body responding with a growing arousal.  His
mind was insisting that he shouldn't be feeling this way.  But he had been
five weeks with R'chein as his only human contact and his body was starved
for touch.  Diana drew back from him slightly as she felt his growing
arousal and their eyes met again, his asking the question he could not,
would not, speak.

"Diana..." he spoke, his voice husky, and could say no more.

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

NRPG: Kat: <e-grin> back to you.

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 * Lynette R. F. Cowper       *     Official INWO NetRep & Goddess    *
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