Date:  Mon Oct 15, 2001  7:19
pm


*Day 5, morning, Med Center*



"Well?" Xanthia gazed with eager anticipation at the faces of Th'rin, 

Corra, Latnem, and Merissa.



"You and Alina are doing well enough to leave the med center," Th'rin 

smiled, still holding the titian haired infant in his arms.



"Home?" Xanthia beamed.



"That's what we wanted to talk to you about," Merissa began, running a 

brush through Xanthia's own red locks.



Xanthia looked up at the queenrider, her face full of questions. She 

wondered what the matter was. and felt a pang of anxiety as many terrible 

possibilities crossed through her mind.



"It's nothing bad, I assure you," Latnem reassured her. "It's an idea that 

has some merit and I'd like you to give it some consideration." He then 

nodded at Merissa to continue.



Merissa took a deep breath. "Xanthia,I would... *we* would," she corrected 

herself, "Like you and Alina to come live in Mara's old room, up in our 

apartment."



Xanthia's brow furrowed uncertainly, her eyes clouding over with anxious 

tears. Why were they asking her this? Did they doubt her ability as a 

mother? "I don't understand???"



Latnem quietly held his hand level and slowly raised and lowered it, hoping 

to indicate to Xanthia to be calm and take a deep breath. Somehow he had to 

find a better nonverbal way to communicate with her without embarrassing 

her. Some kind of code or sign language. Perhaps that was it, she and her 

intimates needed to learn a sign language, or at least some basic signs. As 

the idea formed, he leaned over to Th'rin and whispered, "Remind me to talk 

to Eleanora later about Xanthia."



"You are the mother of Th'rin's baby, that makes both of you an important 

part of our lives." Merissa explained.



"Like family?" Xanthia asked.



"Yes, like family. So that's why we would like to have you there, to keep 

the family together." Merissa finished.



"I'm a good mother?"



"You're a wonderful mother," Th'rin reassured her.



"And trust me, child, it will be a lot easier to be remain good mother with 

two other parents there to help raise the wee one," Corra interjected.



Xanthia chewed her lip and thought a minute, "Is there room on the ledge 

for all three dragons?"



"Plenty," Th'rin nodded.



"All right." Xanthia decided quietly.



****



Late evening



Tarv'renon was finished! At long last his painting of Merissa in all her 

glory was complete. "I must show Merissa!" he boasted aloud.



<I thought that particular... version... was a secret?> Murkash queried.



<I want everyone to see her as she truly is! The other one is so boring. 

It's been done. But this... this is *art*!> Tarv proclaimed.



Murkash looked at Tarv'renon with giant eyes as his rider cinched the 

saddle tight and fastened the painting to it securely. <You look awful. You 

haven't slept in days. And you reek! Shouldn't you at least change out of 

those abominable clothes?>



<No time for that now!> he declared, mounting the brown and ordering him to 

take flight.



Murkash took off reluctantly, landing moments later on the queenrider's 

ledge. "Merissa!" He called.



There was no answer. A faint mewling sound drew his attention to the spare 

bedroom.    "What's this?" he muttered. His brow furrowed <This does not 

sound like Oberon.> Setting the painting down, he wandered into the bedroom 

which used to belong to Th'rin's younger sister.



Hot rage went through him as he spied the redheaded infant laying in a 

cradle. His eyes next landed on a suitcase, lying open on the bed. 

"Infidels!" he cursed under his breath as he recognized the clothing within 

as Xanthia's.



He moved toward the infant and picked her up in his paint stained hands. 

"You are the cause of all this, you runt. If only you had never been born 

of that cunt of a healer." With a sly grin he cradled the infant and placed 

his hand over her mouth and nose.



****



Xanthia set down the sandwich she'd just made as she suddenly received the 

image of the insane artist in her head. "Alina!" she gasped, grabbing a 

knife from the butcher block.



She rushed into the bedroom as fast as she could. "Put her down!" Xanthia 

demanded breathlessly. Her nose wrinkled in disgust at the man's odor. He 

obviously hadn't washed in days.



"Why, when I can end all my problems right now?" Tarv leered.



"I said, put her down! She can't breath!" growled with all the menace of a 

mother bear protecting her cub.



Tarv'renon smiled wickedly, "That's the point. And you're next, BITCH!"



With that Xanthia let loose of the knife, throwing it as she'd been taught 

many months before. But this time it wasn't an oaken log for a target, this 

time it mattered.



She saw crimson flood the artist's stained shirt even as she heard the dull 

thud of the knife hitting it's mark.



"You bitch!" he grunted ineffectually as he staggered back, sliding down 

the wall as his eyes rolled back in his head. His hand fell limply away 

from the infant, who let loose with a resounding yell.



Xanthia's heart swelled with relief at the sound of her baby's cry, even as 

she panicked at the sight of the fallen rider. "What have I done?!?" she 

cried as she quickly gathered Alina in her arms. Moving without thinking, 

she put the baby in the sling and stuffed some diapers into the knapsack. 

She swallowed back the bile that rose in her gorge as the scent of blood 

invaded her taste buds. One thing was certain, she had to take Alina and 

find some safe haven. Somewhere... anywhere but here.



She fumbled around and found a door that opened into a system of tunnels. 

Wandering aimlessly for some time, she finally paused against a wall, only 

to have it fall open behind her. She stumbled, and grasped for purchase, 

blinking as she realized she was now inside a rider's apartment.



The air had a familiar scent to it. Comforting. <I think we'll be safe 

here> she sent to Alina, hoping the infant's young mind could grasp the 

concept of safety.



Suddenly she heard the sound of someone moving about, and moved to take 

cover. How would she explain how she got there, much less *why* she was there?



"Hello? Is anybody there?" a familiar voice called out.



"'Tonio!" Xanthia gasped as she struggled with whether to remain quiet or 

come forward.



Alina made the decision for her, letting loose with a mighty wail. Xanthia 

rocked  and shushed at the infant with frantic hope of quieting her.



"Xanthia???" 'Tonio called out, moving in the direction of the infant's 

cries. "Xanthia! You're covered with blood! Are you injured?"



Xanthia mutely shook her head in denial.



"Is it Alina?"



Xanthia began to nod, and then shook her head in the negative.



'Tonio moved toward the redheaded healer and reached for the infant. "May 

I?" he asked gently, though Xanthia recoiled in fear.



"I can't help if I don't know what happened," he explained softly. "Is this 

Alina's blood?"



"N...n... no..." Xanthia whispered, trembling and looking away.



"No, of course. I should have known better. You would never let harm come 

to this precious child."



"N... never." Xanthia affirmed, anger mingling with the terror in her eyes.



"Did someone try to hurt the baby?" he asked, taking in her demeanor.



Xanthia nodded emphatically, her eyes tearing up as the scene from the 

queenrider's apartment played out in her mind once more horrific time. "He 

tried to smother her... I had to stop him!" Xanthia wailed, clutching Alina 

protectively to her breast.



"Who?" 'Tonio asked softly, "Who tried to harm this precious child?"



"Tarv'renon," Xanthia seethed. "I just wanted to stop him. There was so 

much blood..." her voice trailed off as the tears flowed freely down her face.



******



NRPG: Tag Chris! ;>  No, Tarv's not dead... (That would be too easy, and 

too kind! <VEG>) just wickedly wounded, knife to the left shoulder.





Blessed be,



Morgan


I feel deeply. I care deeply. I desire deeply. I will always tell the 

truth. That is who I am. I expect nothing less of you.