(Night of Solara's death)

The child was dead.

There should be rain, Ash thought. There should be rain at a time like this,
some sign that the gods gave a damn for what they had done. 

There was wind, instead. A devil wind, a playful thing that whipped 
around him on Tahlaya's ledge, rumpling his short-cut hair, pushing against
his back, encouraging him off. Inside, he knew, Laya lay in a fitful sleep.
He berated himself again for leaving her bed, but he really had no choice. 
In the dark, without sleep, the demons came. Somehow, standing to face
them made it just a little more bearable. 

Behind him, in the dark, Avid uttered a low growl. A predatory one.  
Ash ignored him.

[[He is afraid and uncertain. You are putting him on edge,]] Wyndamenth 
clicked to him from where she and the girls lay. 

++He is not alone,++ Ash answered. 

She was dead. How could she be dead? This time, the curse of his life had 
not only ruined him, killed his dragon, but now an innocent child. And, 
he thought, her mother too. Laya was not in very good shape when 
the sedative had finally taken effect.  Who could blame her?

He had seen men die. Hell, he had put them in harms way, to appease
some Lord's political schemes. But this was different, wasn't it?

*His* child was dead. His. The tiny eyes, staring blindly, colorless
grey in the light. So much like his. How was he ever going to justify 
her death? How was he ever going to explain it?

There was a price, a terrible, final price for knowing him, for being 
involved with him. That price was final, inoxerable. If he ever relaxed,
if he ever found peace, the gods visited this thing on him and those
he loved. 

His child was dead.

It amazed him, that he cared for a child he barely knew. 
A child that he had no experience with; it was so far out of his knowledge
that he could not even begin to understand why he was feeling what he did. 
Was it seeing Tahlaya's grief? Was if the relief of knowing that Solara was
his? Why was it that he had felt this emotion, this swelling of love for a baby?

Why could he not feel grief for its death?

It bothered him, that he could not feel the pain. He was numb, had been
ever since the fight with Ves. Another failure in his life, a student that had 
turned on his teacher.  There was no feeling at all. Oh, he could register 
the feelings of others, especially his mate's, but for himself the empty 
shell remained. 

++Why can I not feel the grief, Wyndamenth? Why am I even out here?++

[[Perhaps you have not given yourself time to grieve yet.]]

<Perhaps you should stop feeling sorry for yourself, you pompous ass.>

*Sol?* Ash half-smiled. *You picked a hell of a time to return.*

<Better late than never. Nice dragon, by the way. Shame you ignore
her so.>

*What the hell do you mean, ignore her?*

<She has her first mating flight, her prospective mate dies almost on top 
of her, and instead of brooding over it she devotes herself to you and 
your feelings. She seems to care a lot more than you do.>

*I had thought she understood, considering the circumstances. You're
right, though, she and I need to have a talk. Soon.*

<You bet you do.>

*My...hatchling is dead, and I can't even feel the pain of her passing.
What's wrong with me?*

<The time isn't right yet. Want to know what your problem is?>

*I want to know, yes.*

<You're used to your own company. You've spent all this time alone,
wanting for other company since my death, and now you've got 
company running out your ears. A mate, a dragon, a...pet? and now,
me. You don't know how to handle it.>

*I fail to see what this has to do with the fact that my child is dead.*

<I'll tell you why. You can't let go of your stoicism. You're so afraid 
that someone in this crowd around you will find their way to your heart,
and then leave you like I did. You were able to feel sorry for yourself
in that hatching cavern, sure, when it was just you. But gods, to feel 
pain for another person, that's just->

*Shut up!!*

<No. This has to be said, and it's for your own good. Solara was your
child, Ash, she wasn't a *thing*. She wasn't an object for you to examine
like one of your war games. You can't have it both ways. You can't wish 
for others to be close to you to appease your loneliness, then push them 
away when it's not convenient.>

*So that's what I'm doing, pushing her away.*

<Pushing everyone away. You still refer to your hatchling as 'it' in your
mind. She's your child, Ash. You are allowed to grieve. You don't have
to hold it all in. Who are you protecting by doing this? I'll bet no one
understands why you've been so wooden.>

*I had to be strong for Tahlaya.*

<Dragon dung. You can't fool me, I'm in your mind, remember? I know 
how you feel. You have enough sadness for ten men, but you won't let it 
out. You have to, to stay sane.>

*Sane? That's funny, coming from a disembodied voice in my head.*

<You know what I mean.>

[[Ash? Who are you talking to?]]

++No one, Wyndamenth. Wrestling with my past, and wondering about
my future.++

<Ooo, how poetic.>

*You're not helping, Sol. Why are you talking to me?*

<Because I want you to get in touch with your feelings, Ash. You've kept
them locked up for too long. I want you to remember your child's eyes,
remember your mate's face when she looked at her and you, remember 
how you felt,>

*Stop it!*

<No, let it out, Ash. Let it go. All those you've pushed away, they need
you. They need to see your grief, just like theirs. They need to know
you're human. I knew the real Ash, and of all creatures great and small 
they need to know you, too.>

*My child is dead.*

<Yes, she is dead. Feel for her, Ash.>

Suddenly, his eyes stung, tears forming. 

*There will never be another Solara. Gods, why?*

<Don't question! Don't examine! Just feel.>

Sobbing now, on his knees, the wind turning the teardrops ice cold, 
cold trails against his hot face.

"Ash? Ash? Where are you?" At his back now. "Why are you out here?"

Slowly, as if in wonder, he replied, "I had to be alone...to cry for our child."

________________________________

Tag, Lea...not what I expected when I start writing, but I never seem to know 
what direction I take with Ash, he just sorta writes himself.








Allen Veazey
wolf@dbtech.net
	
	"I'm not really bad, I'm just drawn that way."
			--Jessica Rabbit