A/N: Written for the 5,10,20,50,70,100 fandoms challenge, fandom 43: Rowan of Rin series. Also for the 100_tales challenge on livejournal, Rowan of Rin: Rowan & Sheba, prompt #048 – future.


True Inheritance

Rowan had been waiting by Sheba's cottage.

The medallion was heavy around his neck. He had thought it would grow lighter with the approach of its owner, but it hadn't. Jiller and John were on the hill, waiting – waiting for the straggling line of villagers to return home, with the Wise Woman at their head. Zeel, Norris and Shaaran were with him, silently lending their strength.

The medallion was still around his neck, even though he had no need for it now. They had cleared the way for the Bukshah after all; their string of long winters had come to an end, and the people of Rin were returning…along with Sheba. It was her medallion, her birthright – and no doubt she would demand it before she even passed through her cottage's gate.

That was why he was waiting, and yet he hadn't taken the medallion off. His fingers had come up a handful of times: to grasp the base of gold, to fiddle with the cord that held it. Something was stopping him; some instinctual feeling kept him of being rid of the burden once and for all.

He almost fell sorry for Sheba, now that he understood. But he was an older child now. He could no longer even bare his Bukshah's pain, let alone the woman who antagonised him at every turn, hiding her well-meaning intentions.

But Sheba was taking her time; Rowan expected her to have come by now. Surely she wouldn't hang about the festivities within the village – she had always preferred her silent old home on the outskirts –

And then the plodding of hooves reached his ears, and Shaaran's shrill cry came after as she ran to throw her arms around the Grach.

'Buy why is Unos alone?' Norris asked in amazement, now watching his sister murmuring gentle words in the Gnarch's ears. 'Where's the old woman?'

Rowan peered as far as he could; Zeel peered even father, wondering if Sheba had somehow been reinvigorated on the coast. But the old woman did not appear, and it was an anxious looking Jiller who came to meet them soonafter.

The look on her face was enough to tell Rowan he wouldn't be taking that medallion off any time soon.

'So Sheba is dead.' Zeel's voice was hard, though her eyes had lowered in respect: a hybrid of the Zebak and the Travellers as how she lived. 'And Rowan is now the village's Wise Man.'

'Yes.' Jiller's voice was steady, like it almost often was. Still, her eyes were slightly damp – even as a woman of Rin she had been unable to stop them, not for regret of the past, but for the future that faced her son. 'Rowan…'

Rowan said nothing, just pressed the medallion softly upon his chest.