Isteillia started to ponder Breeyar's words, and wonder if perhaps he hadn't meant them in an attempt to get her to stray, but perhaps as a warning, as Isteillia grew more and more discontent with her arrangement with Silarian. A year passed and still there was no date set. Still he had not found a permanent station or scientist under whom he could apprentice. He wandered aimlessly through his field, and finally, when Isteillia put her hoof down and asked him what his plans for their future were, he announced he was going to be a freelance apprentice, and that he wanted to work with expeditionary groups.
Expeditionary groups. Traveling scientists. Meaning he'd only be home in between excursions, excursions that would take full seasons, sometimes longer if they went with Dome Ships or military squadrons- which was his goal.
Isteillia said nothing. She swallowed her stinging pride and smiled, telling him she wanted him to be happy. He smiled and kissed her- lightly, without feeling, no more than a kiss between friends- and gushed about the prospects that this would provide. She said nothing. It was hard to be excited about prospects when they obviously did not include her, as much as he was trying to make that seem.
He was leaving soon. On the Dome Ship LightBlade. He was going as an expeditionary guest of Breeyar's and would share quarters with him. He said he would contact her every day. Isteillia didn't believe him, but she smiled and wished him luck, and that she would wait patiently for his contact every night.
When they first were engaged, he wasn't too keen on her starting a career as an artist- that she'd be too busy with the children he wanted to sire. Silarian didn't care anymore that Isteillia was building a portfolio and was submitting it to various people, looking to get into the market. They weren't planning on children anytime soon. That was just a faded memory now, and Isteillia was torn about it. Part of her wished they were married and had at least one child, so she'd have someone to nurture and love while he was gone; a child to raise and make Silarian and her proud. The other part of her was glad she was still unmarried for the most part, without a child, able to do whatever the day threw at her, able to work on art and daydream about a different life.
It happened on one of those afternoons, an afternoon where Isteillia lazed in her family's scoop with her mother and sister, Lillanya and Isteillia working on a hologram together. They made a great team, surprisingly, Lillanya's vivid childish imagination and taste for bright colors matching with Isteillia's precise hand and trained eye to make a lovely piece. It was three days before the LightBlade would be leaving for space. Silarian had not come to bid her farewell.
Her mother watched them work on the art, her eyes sparkling in contentment at her two daughters being home together, but as always, the happiness was shaded by the irreversible sadness that had never left since the day she learned she had lost her mate. A shadow fell across her face, and they all looked up.
Cousin Breeyar! Lillanya cried and instantly bounded to his side, her childlike nature overtaking what training she was getting. She had taken to calling him 'Cousin' and could not be persuaded otherwise once she found out he was cousin to 'Brother Silarian', and typical of a child, she was overly loving and exuberant when family showed up to call.
Breeyar simply chuckled and rubbed the violet fur on the child's shoulders, earning a happy sound from her as she closed her main eyes in utter delight, radiating waves of contentment. He bowed his head to her mother.
Good afternoon, Edraela, he said respectfully. May I be granted permission to visit?
Her mother smiled.
You are always welcome to visit, young Breeyar.
Breeyar flinched a bit at the 'young' comment, but it was good natured; Edraela always teased him over his age. He strode into the scoop, Lillanya giggling and plopping back down to pick up her stylus, tossing in more vivid colors. Isteillia got to her hooves carefully, and bowed her head to him calmly, but her hearts were hammering. He was still as handsome as the day he'd pulled her from the lake, his scent and presence as intoxicating as ever.
Good afternoon, Prince Breeyar, Isteillia said politely.
Good afternoon, Isteillia, he replied. He smiled at her and it felt as though the contents of her stomachs had congealed into a cold gel. He looked over at the art Lillanya and Isteillia were working on and his eyes widened slightly. He kneeled down next to her sister, then looked up at her.
The both of you are working on this? He asked.
Isteillia nodded, suddenly self conscious of her art as she kneeled down, picking up her stylus again and guiding the new colors Lillanya had added with silvery fractals and flowing lines. Breeyar watched carefully, his eyes following her hand.
The two of you are very talented, he remarked. Isteillia glanced at him with her stalk eyes.
Thank you, Prince Breeyar. We inherited the talent from our mother, Isteillia said fondly, swiveling an eye to look at her mother lovingly, who smirked slightly, unable to hide her pride- both as an artist and a mother.
Talent tends to run in families, she said simply, but her pride coated her words, and it was all Isteillia could do not to snicker. Breeyar, however, did let out a chuckle.
Your pride is well earned, Edraela. Your daughters are very imaginative and creative, and their ideas harmonize beautifully.
He watched us work a few more minutes before getting to his hooves and making a polite sound to get her attention. Isteillia looked up at him questioningly.
Might I see you and Edraela privately? He asked. Isteillia patted the pouting Lillanya on the shoulder as Isteillia got up.
We will finish this later. Prince Breeyar needs to talk to Mother and me, Isteillia said comfortingly, projecting her promise to her in a wave of soothing reassurance. She smiled and set down her stylus, getting up to go play with her Pakka doll.
Isteillia followed Breeyar and her mother just outside the entrance to the scoop. He looked a bit agitated, which was uncharacteristic for him. It was then Isteillia noticed he was wearing a belt around the junction of his torso and lower body that had a pouch attached to it. He looked as though he were fighting the urge to prance nervously on his hooves and his stalk eyes were scanning the fields nervously as his tail swayed in agitation.
Prince Breeyar, your mood is completely different. This is no social call, I take it, her mother said, reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder. Isteillia felt more relaxed almost instantly- she was projecting waves of calm. He closed his main eyes briefly, surrendering to her projected calm.
No, it is not. I came to give your family the most important part of War Prince Aslirion's will, and because of his connections, it was able to be granted, but it has to remain quiet, because Aslirion almost got into a fight with the Captain when his desires were found out.
War Prince? When?! Edraela gasped. Breeyar looked at her reproachfully.
I also came to tell you that those who died in the attack were promoted in honor to their memories, that they would be remembered as those who followed orders 'til their death.
Isteillia reached for her mother, who looked as though she were having difficulty standing. Credit to her bearing as the wife of a prince, she steadied herself and lifted her tail high, squaring her shoulders.
I am honored my husband will be remembered with such honor and dignity. I gratefully accept his promotion on his behalf.
Breeyar reached for the pouch at his waist, hesitated, then opened it, pulling out a parcel. He unwrapped it and her mother and Isteillia both had to suppress their gasps. In his hands was an Escafil Device. Isteillia gaped at him.
Are you serious? Isteillia asked, struggling to control her volume. her mother was silent, but her eyes were wide. Breeyar looked troubled.
It was his wish that you were given the power to morph to protect yourselves in the event that he was- he choked, his words cutting off.
Isteillia didn't hesitate. She placed her hand on the cube, meeting his gaze, holding her tail high. She felt the warm sensation run down her hand, and she pulled it away. Her mother hesitated, but she placed her hand on the cube, shuddered, then pulled away. Breeyar wrapped the device back up, placed it in the pouch then removed the pouch, handing it to Edraela. He was looking at Isteillia with a look she couldn't read.
It is yours now, he said quietly. I know Lillanya is too young to have the ability, so I leave you the device. It was in his will that you have the device, and do with it as you saw fit.
Edraela strapped the pouch around her own waist and nodded.
Thank you, Prince Breeyar, she said softly. Breeyar nodded his head.
I should head back to the base. I like to prepare days in advance before the ship leaves, and I only have three days to prepare.
Isteillia tried not to waver on her hooves. He was just leaving so soon? Edraela noticed the subtle sway of her daughter's legs and lowered her head.
Safe journey, Prince Breeyar. I must secure this device.
Without waiting for his reply- he was staring at Isteillia; she knew she wouldn't get a coherent one- she retreated into the scoop. Breeyar looked at Isteillia intently.
How long will the LightBlade be gone? She asked softly.
Six months, he replied. It is a routine patrol through the sector. With the Yeerks on the loose, we have to sweep the sector to ensure we do not have any headed for home. We have to protect what is most precious.
Isteillia nodded, but looked down, scuffing her front right hoof in the grass. A childish gesture, but she didn't know how to swallow her disappointment- or the confusion she felt over her disappointment. Was she upset that Breeyar was going, or that Silarian was going and hadn't been by to wish her farewell? Breeyar suddenly took a step towards her and she looked up.
Has my cousin not come to say farewell? He asked, his voice angry.
Isteillia looked down again.
No. No, he has not, she said forlornly, and she was surprised at the ache that stung her hearts as she said so.
That fool, Breeyar muttered angrily, making her look up in surprise at his vehement tone. He softened his expression.
I will make sure he comes to see you one more time before the deployment, he said firmly. Isteillia swayed her tail blade in a gesture of defeated indifference, shifting her weight to her left hind quarter.
Do not bother yourself, Prince Breeyar. He is undoubtedly very busy. He is with the expeditionary group, so he most likely has a lot of preparations to do, she said, but even as she said it, she heard the flat unbelievable tone in her voice.
Breeyar gave her a sidelong glance, and he seemed to be debating with himself. Finally he took a breath and stepped closer- she could take one step and be pressed against him if she dared- and she dared not!
Isteillia. Are you happy? Is he treating you well? You do not seem as upset as I would have imagined at his dismissal of bidding you farewell.
Isteillia shifted her weight to both hindquarters, leaning her upper body back slightly, taking a defensive stance subconsciously, and for the first time, she felt intimidated by the Prince. Though he wasn't much taller than her, he certainly outweighed her considerably, and he was fresh from training; his muscles were more defined, and his coat gleamed. She averted her eyes from his- they looked at her with such intensity, and she felt as though he could see through her lies.
I… I am getting used to him not being around, is all. I am not sure how to feel right now.
Breeyar didn't look convinced, but he reached out and stroked her temple with his fingertips. A chaste kiss, just his fingertips, but she saw a glimpse of something restrained in his eyes, and her knees wobbled slightly as his soft fingers lingered a split second too long.
Regardless of whether my lazy cousin comes to bid you, his fiancée, farewell before a six month trip- a full season-, I do hope the six months go by with no trouble for you, Isteillia, he said, and his voice seemed too tender.
I hope your deployment goes smoothly, and that there are no mishaps. Return to us all safe and sound, Prince Breeyar, she replied stiffly, but her words softened as she said his name. She looked up at him.
If my fiancée does not come to bid me farewell, tell him his intended shall chastely and faithfully await his return.
She turned to go when Breeyar snatched her wrist and pulled her back. She looked at him in confusion.
Will you run with me before I leave? He blurted. It has been a while since I have enjoyed the company of a friend on a run.
She smiled hesitantly then nodded, breaking into a canter, following him. He flashed her a devilish grin and broke into a flat out gallop, his tail held playfully high. She laughed finally, and easily caught up with him, her long legs stretching out in long strides. She admired how his fur gleamed and rippled in the crimson, violet and orange of the sunset. He was giving her an appraising gaze as well.
You are all legs and tail, Isteillia, he laughed. Like a lilac- he paused.
What is wrong? She asked. He was staring at her as though he'd never seen her before. He slowed to a trot, and she matched his stride, frowning.
The color of your coat is turning, he said very quietly. There is more blue in your coat now- it is more periwinkle than lilac.
A violet flush crept over her cheeks and she jerked her tail in surprise.
You- you noticed, she said simply. Silarian had not noticed her coat had changed, that his fiancée had reached full physical maturity. Breeyar had.
Silarian has not noticed, Breeyar said, echoing her thoughts, coming to a stop. Isteillia suddenly hated him for stating the obvious, for being there, for being within arm's reach, yet still untouchable.
No, she said curtly.
Forgive me, Isteillia. I- I will escort you home.
There is nothing to forgive, Prince Breeyar. It is not your fault my intended does not even know or possibly even care that- She trailed off, her words choking on her own frustration, her anger, her NEED.
Breeyar said nothing, and together they walked back to her scoop. He kissed her chastely once more then bowed before heading to his transport. He paused at the ramp. He locked eyes with her.
You deserve to be happy.
Isteillia couldn't even muster a reply. She was trying too hard not to bolt to his side and cling to him, to breathe in his scent, to run her hands over his soft pelt.
I will return safe and sound, just as you asked.
She found her voice at last. His eyes were so doleful as he waited for her response.
Please do, she said softly.
She watched his transport leave, never taking her eyes off it until it was over the ridge. She felt someone come behind her and she swiveled her stalk eyes to see her mother come outside, the sunset gleaming on her coat. She looked at her daughter carefully. Isteillia wasn't sure how much her mother knew, or what she would think.
Tell me, daughter. When is the last time Silarian kissed you like that? She asked quietly. Isteillia turned to face her.
I- I…
Edraela raised her hand to silence her.
You need to talk to him. Before he leaves.
But how? He will be on the ship, and only the mates of Princes are allowed aboard ships! Isteillia said plaintively. Her mother gave her a wry look.
You know Silarian. He will be in Breeyar's quarters long before the ship takes off. In the meantime…you could…acquire a pass onto the ship?
Isteillia gaped at her mother.
You mean…acquire a male and sneak on in morph?
Edraela shrugged lightly, the wry grin fading from her face.
Your father risked a lot to give us this ability, to protect ourselves. Protect your heart, my dear. Do not let Silarian leave without saying goodbye.
***
I cannot believe I am doing this! Isteillia wailed to herself.
Isteillia strode down the corridors of the main shaft of the LightBlade, in the body of a male Andalite technician. She felt ridiculous, clumsy, and was afraid she'd be seen right through her morph. The male she'd acquired had been dozing on the job, catching a nap after an all-nighter of last minute repairs on the ship's shield systems.
The male she'd acquired was slender and slight of form, but still larger than her, with large hooves and a heavy tail blade. This technician could have been a prize tail fighter with the blade he possessed, but apparently his love lay in fuses and circuits. His fur was a medium ultramarine, short but very thick- good insulation for working with damaged wires. As with all males, she felt awkward, losing the natural rhythm and grace her female form had.
She kept her eyes peeled for Breeyar's quarters, and she made sure the badge she had cuffed on her upper arm was flipped to "Off Duty," for the umpteenth time. She didn't want to get called to fix something she knew nothing about.
The warriors and assorted princes of rank moved through the shaft, barely paying attention to her, but she was playing the part of a weary technician going to his quarters before his next shift, and techs had a bad rap for being nasty when delayed from their liberty.
The crowd of warriors and princes parted down the middle of the shaft, and Isteillia followed suit, curious. She peered a stalk eye around a larger warrior, then jerked it back, her hearts stuttering.
The Captain was making his way down the shaft, headed to the bridge. His swagger was unmistakable- the confident, seasoned sway of a veteran who could not be contested in the art of war- well deserved, but never arrogant. He almost glowed, as though he were immortal, and he left a hush in his wake. Though built powerfully, his frame large and his fur a glinting harsh slate blue, his face was easy on the eyes in a comforting way- it was hardened around the edges from a life of war, but patience, kindness and justice shone in his eyes. Isteillia found herself torn between fearfully admiring him as a male, and finding comfort in him like a paternal figure.
As soon as he passed, his tail held at a confident, relaxed height, his face giving a few smiles to nervous Arisths, the crowd merged again and resumed its flow. Isteillia let herself be carried with it, shaken slightly. Were all Captains like that? She had been nervous yet comforted at the same time by him. A nameplate on the next door caught her eye.
Prince Breeyar, Flight Squadron Leader, it read.
Isteillia stopped as she realized where in the ship she was- the larger, more luxurious quarters. She didn't realize how much weight Breeyar had in the forces. Taking a deep breath, she knocked. Breeyar came to the door, looking confused.
I did not call for a tech, he said, frowning, his main eyes flicking to the off duty badge. Isteillia gave him a sidelong glance, as though he were missing something.
I got called in as a favor, she said. She halfway expected Breeyar to reel back and laugh; she felt ridiculous playing a male! Breeyar's eyes lit up.
Ah! So the favor I did for Tarrynth is being repaid! I had asked if he could swing a tech to tweak my quarters! Come in-
Flaren, Isteillia replied, showing him the "On Duty" side of the badge that included the name of her morph. He nodded.
Come in, come in.
Isteillia stepped into his quarters, Breeyar shutting the door behind her. She mentally checked the time. She had an hour left. Breeyar looked at her expectantly.
Can I show you what I wanted done? Just a simple request, really- I was hoping to manipulate the gravity in the corner of the room to have a stream and waterfall fashioned- I saw it in War Prince Alloran's new ship, and I would love it in my quarters.
Isteillia shook her head after looking around and seeing Silarian was not in the room- and such a large room, with separate sections! Breeyar frowned.
What's wrong?
Isteillia was silent, focusing on her own body. Breeyar jumped back a few steps as her masculine muscles melted away, her blue fur turning periwinkle, her tail blade shrinking. She felt her grace return, and her dark green eyes lightened to sea foam. Breeyar gaped at her.
Isteillia! He cried. She smiled, half sheepish, half coy.
Hi Breeyar.
He rushed forward, seizing a hand in hers as she used the other to pry the badge off her arm. She smiled at him, her hearts racing, elated at seeing him, even though she had come to see Silarian.
Why are you here? If you needed me, you should have contacted me! If you were caught! He said, scolding her, but his words were far from harsh. Was she imagining it, or was he happy she had come?
I needed to see Silarian before he left, she answered.
He nodded.
He will be back shortly. He frowned again, and she found herself loving how deep and serious his eyes became.
Your fur is dusty and matted. You should freshen up. There's a cleansing chamber just over here. Once you've rinsed your fur clean, I can help get some of those tangles out, he said kindly.
She smiled.
Thank you, Breeyar. A freshen up sounds great.
She slipped into the chamber and picked up the water hose, spraying herself with the warm water, rinsing the dust off her body. She perked her head up as she heard voices. Silarian must have returned. She hastened her rinsing, wanting to talk to Silarian. Maybe with Breeyar present he would be forced to give her an honest answer. She set the hose down, turning of the water and shook herself, sending a fine mist flying from her fur. That's when she heard Breeyar's angry roar.
What in yaolin are you THINKING?!
You were not supposed to be back! Silarian said nervously.
It was a good thing I WAS! Breeyar snarled. I should drag you to the Captain myself!
Silarian was silent, and Isteillia was afraid to leave the chamber. What had he done?
Do you not know? Fool, do you not have the slightest clue? Breeyar said in a fury. There was the sound of him pacing angrily, his hooves clattering, which soon came to an abrupt halt.
You are letting her continue to do that? In front of me? Do you even know what kind of situation you have just put yourself in?
Isteillia's eyes narrowed at the pronoun 'her', and she opened the door, stepping out into the main room. Her eyes fell on Silarian, looking cowed, Breeyar, looking furious- dangerously so- and a small female, tinier than any female she'd ever seen, holding Silarian's hand with both of hers in a death grip.
Her hearts stopped.
Y-you… Silarian? She wailed, wavering on her hooves.
Silarian's face paled as he saw her, and the female cringed, pressing closer against him.
Is-Isteillia! What are YOU doing here?
How could you? She whispered. How could you say you pushed back our marriage because of your career? How could you?
Silarian looked as though he wanted to flee. Breeyar stepped between him and the door, seeming to read his mind. Isteillia shook with sadness and betrayal, but with a new feeling of elation, and it threatened to make her fall into a fit of hysterical giggles. The conflict of emotions made her angry, and reminded her of why she was here.
Isteillia, I…I do not know what to say!
Of course not. You forgot what to say to me. You have not said the right things to me since you asked me to forsake all others and be your mate. Apparently, that did not mean anything to you. Or perhaps you thought it did not apply to you? She said, her voice calm and even, and it surprised her.
You were- I just…Isteillia, you are too tame! He finally snapped.
She blinked as though slapped in the face by his tail. She stared at him before finally snapping.
Too tame? TOO TAME?! She screamed. Tame, dancing in a storm? Tame, learning to tail fight? Tame, for loving you despite being DISOWNED?!
Silarian lost what little blood was in his face, and the female at his side released his hands, making a sound of disgust and pushing away from him. Isteillia let out a crow of laughter, a sharp laugh that bordered on manic.
You see? You see how she pushes you away? Did I? Did my family? We welcomed you in, gave you land, loved you! Too tame?!
She danced a bit on her hooves, angrily, gleefully, as she pointed at him.
Release me from our contract.
Silarian shook his head.
You are the only female who would have married me despite my disownment. Despite what foolishness I have done, I still love you.
Isteillia's fur bristled as rage seized her. Even Breeyar looked slightly concerned as the thick long fur on her back stood on end from the back of her neck to her haunches.
You love me, you say? YOU STILL LOVE ME?! Why do you always LIE TO ME? She screamed, her tail tensing, coiling to strike.
You tell me you are going on this deployment to get your hoof in the door with the expeditionary group, and I find you with-
She froze as she recognized the female's face-she'd seen the masculine counterpart to that face walking proudly to the bridge. She laughed, her shoulders shaking. She whirled on Silarian.
The CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER? REALLY, Silarian? She shrieked.
The female looked horrified, and Breeyar twitched his tail.
Silarian, this female is not of the proper age to be courted, and she is the Captain's ONLY child! You fool!
He pushed Silarian into a corner, and Silarian began to plead with his cousin.
I did not know! She did not tell me she was so young!
Did you even ASK? Breeyar bellowed.
I did not know; I had no intention of harm!
Breeyar glanced at the female, and she nodded in shame.
He speaks the truth, he did not know. I told him I was two years older.
Breeyar released his cousin, letting him slump onto the floor.
Give me one good reason I should not turn you in.
I can, Isteillia said, lifting her tail dangerously, eyeing her intended.
Release me.
Silarian looked from Isteillia, her tail arched, her fur bristled, then to Breeyar, his face twisted in rage, his own fur starting to stand up on end. He slumped over.
I cannot.
The only way I can be released is by breaking it myself, and if I do that, no male will have me as his mate, and I REFUSE to marry you! She screeched. RELEASE ME!
Breeyar held up his hand.
This is no place for an underage female, he said to the Captain's daughter. I suggest you leave now. I will not say anything to your father.
She nodded, relieved, and left the room as quick as her tiny hooves could take her. Breeyar turned back to his cousin.
You will not release her from this broken contract?
I cannot. She is all I can have.
I WILL NOT be a last resort! I LOVED you, Silarian! And you pushed me away! You ran away from me, from us!
Loved? You do not love me anymore?
How could I? The last time you kissed me, it might as well have been from a friend. You did not even notice my fur! She wailed.
Your fur?
YES, Silarian, my FUR. Did you not notice I hit my physical maturation? That I was ready to be your mate, to settle into your arms and make a family for you? No, you did not- you were too busy running away.
She closed her eyes, her pain etched in her face.
Now I will never know that joy. No male will ever want me for committing this dishonor, but I cannot be tied to you anymore.
She took a deep breath that shook.
Silarian-Amith-Tashul, I release you from the bonds of our premarital contract. I accept the dishonor that falls onto me for doing so as a female.
She turned and ran into the sleeping area of the quarters, covering her face, her tail nearly dragging the ground. Breeyar looked at his cousin with a look of utmost hatred.
Get out. Do not come back in here.
Watching as Silarian stumbled from the room, he turned his back and followed Isteillia. She was collapsed in a heap, sobbing, laying on her side, very much like the way Breeyar had seen her when he pulled her from the water. He sighed, but it was in resigned relief. He was going to save her from drowning again.
He kneeled next to her and ran his hand down her back, smoothing the bristled fur. A shudder ran through her body, and she looked up at him. She sat up, moving to a kneeling position. Before she could react, Breeyar pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. She gave in, slumping against him, shaking.
I am so sorry.
No, no, dear heart. Do not be.
I should go home and request a piece of land from my mother.
Why? He asked.
I will not find a mate now. I am disgraced! She cried.
Breeyar stroked the fur on her shoulders, sending her waves of comfort and love. She rested her head against his chest and he laid his cheek on the top of her head.
I would not say that. I think this is most convenient.
She looked up at him, blinking.
It means you are available, right? He asked teasingly.
Breeyar, I-
He cut her off by kissing her passionately. She moaned and leaned into his caress, leaning her weight against him. Oh, how she had wanted this for so long, and it was better than she ever dreamed. His hands were strong, warm and soft, and she wanted to melt into them.
Remember what I said? I meant it, and now you're available.
He pulled back and stroked her face, the gentlest of kisses over her cheeks. She shuddered in pleasure and returned his kisses, unable to look away. He smiled tenderly at her then pressed his forehead to hers.
Isteillia, will you be MY mate? Marry me, and be mine, as you should be. As you should have been long ago.
Yes, Breeyar, yes! She cried, flinging her arms around him. He made a happy sound, embracing her.
You are all I want. Forever.
