Faith's Fury
By: Sinead

Author's Note: My, but people are loving this story! Personally, when I first started it, I hadn't many aspirations to continue it. It was supposed to be a one-shot, and even THEN . . . Hah. See what reviews get you! INSPIRATION, WATSON, INSPIRATION! Ahem. Anyway, the romance continues. That's all you're getting for spoilers on this one! And I think that I'll start saying who my favorite character for each chapter is . . . I think that it would make it more interesting. So here's the small chart so far for favorites– Chapter One: Tie between Arbiter and the Master Chief; Chapter Two: Mir'wustomee; Chapter Three's favorite was somewhat of a tie between Ysabelle and Tyr. This chapter's favorite is Arai! Now, on with the review-replies:

Fhulhi the Crazy, you'd better BET that it's turning into a romance. That's all I'm blasted good at writing! Romances and tearjerkers! . . . wait . . . crap, I hope that this doesn't turn into a tearjerker . . . that would suck . . .

Spacefan, I actually think that he's going to be rather overly sweet on Tyr . . . and by everything that's even semi-holy, I hope he doesn't screw up with keeping her his girlfriend! And what do you mean, "Human females more lustful that Elite females? Hah! That's a good one . . ." ! C'mon, seriously! I'm a WOMAN (if you have not guessed already) and I know how blasted lustful we can get! Heh, sure it's not the typical reaction that guys get when they're thinking about whatever turns them on and all, but it's still there, subtly chipping away at the walls of sanity and screaming, "Hel-LO! Male! Over there! Good body! . . . VERY good body . . . oooh . . . I wonder . . . hehehehehe . . ." Somehow I doubt that Elite femmes have the same reaction. They'd be more civilized about the entire thing. . . . either that or Arbiter has no clue about the opposite gender in the least.

Sharpshooter one two five, don't worry about having a different perception of the Master Chief. We all think of him in different ways, and I can tell that just by they way people write about him. I look for the man under the mask, under the armor. The real soul that resides in a shadowed place that not many people would be able to see. And I'm stopping there before I begin ranting in pure fangirl fashion!

Mephisto138, thanks for reviewing! And don't worry, you'll see more of those two in Chapter Five. This one is dedicated to another cause, but one just as important.

Yomiko the hellbunny slayer returns again! Thanks for the review! I hope you keep reading, and I hope that you like these next two chapters!

Nightdragon0, you're right on the money. Not only will Arbiter have to deal with watching this . . . well, the Japanese called them "hitokiri" . . . this manslayer in his Covenant-influenced eyes and try to find out how EXACTLY he can love when he's been an icon of hate since the very beginning. And you'll see some of how that's dealt with in this chapter. Enjoy!

Chapter Four: Relearning Patience

Arbiter smiled at the pair of Spartan-IIs, neither of them knowing he was watching. John and this Tyr have long been friends and lovers, he surmised from the way they spoke with each other. As soon as he heard their voices and saw gazes turn into a more intimate discourse, he turned, almost embarrassed to see the Demon smiling tenderly to this woman. The Elite walked away from the door, only to complete his fifteenth step and face Leader. The white-clad Elite bumped his shoulder against Arbiter's, physically reaffirming their bond as brothers, saying aloud, "So his mate is back with him?"

"Quite so."

"You sound almost disappointed."

Arbiter didn't reply. Chuckling, Leader understood the predicament. "You'll find the right mate for you soon enough, Arbiter. She's out there."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I keep faith that my mate is out there."

Arbiter looked at Leader, the unsaid words about how Leader's wife left him because of his missing left jaw hanging between them. Not to mention that arbiter himself had once had a mate who had loved him ardently . . . and left him when he had needed her love and support the most. Leader sighed. "A new mate, Arbiter. One who cares not about physical afflictions. One who cares for what the male is inside."

"No female would elope with a heretic," Arbiter said bitterly. "And especially not one whose first mate left him."

"You're a good friend, Arbiter, a good younger brother to me. Your faith and devotion for keeping and upholding a friendship shows that you made a good mate before and you will be a good mate again in the future. There will be one for you. Elites are not meant to live a solitary life, and I have heard many who know not of our relation and have said around me that they wish to have the honor of sharing a bed with you." Leader glanced at the younger Elite. "Even though I know fully that you care not for those types of relationships. But you are, by far, nowhere near the most undesirable of those around us."

Arbiter sighed, resting his hand upon the armor over the Mark of Shame. "I wish I could share your hope for a mate, brother. I really do."

Leader's shoulders sagged the slightest bit, and he walked closer beside the Arbiter until the armor over their shoulders brushed. "You have always been my blood-brother. I was wrong when I said to you that you life didn't matter to me. I was angry that they accused you of something that was beyond your control, and did not have an outlet."

"I never blamed you for your words, brother. Never," was the hushed reply.

They were silent until they got to the Spartans' hangar, where a roiling argument was in full-swing if either of them were judging it right from the voices alone. They entered, seeing three unfamiliar Elites facing Alpha team, the remainder of the Spartans and the Brotherhood around the edges of the room, silently supporting their leaders.

Mendez walked in after the two Elites, muttering, "Know what this is about?"

Leader shook his head before taking a deep breath in and bellowing, "What is the meaning of this!"

Every voice fell silent immediately, and the three Elites turned. One male, two female. The male spoke. "We have been requesting to meet with you, Leader, for the past hour."

"Oh?"

"They would not allow us to meet with you where you were."

"Don't twist words," Mir'wustomee snarled.

Suppressing a glare, the male clarified, "The . . . human told me that you were somewhere upon this ship, and would not let us search."

Ysabelle snorted. "I told you that you were welcome to wait here with us until Leader returned. He was in a meeting with Commander Keyes and Chief Mendez. If they were disturbed, Leader would not be at all pleasant, regardless of who you are."

The females were looking disgusted at the male's behavior. Arbiter removed his helmet, walking off. This wasn't his issue. Leader understood that, and Arbiter could tell that by the loose way that he was standing. What he didn't notice was that one of the Elite females watched him as he started pulling the rest of his armor off while he was walking away.

Leader looked between the three Elites, once the female looked back at him. Her voice was modulated and soft, showing a thoughtful, brooding personality. "Is that the Arbiter?"

Leader saw the Elite stop and look back over his shoulder once to identify the voice before continuing to the room he had been offered so that he would be among his people. The elder brother nodded. "Yes. My brother."

The Elite female bowed gracefully. "I am honored to meet you, Leader. Myself and my younger sister asked our brother to bring us here to train under you, as I hear that you are accepting females into a new and changed Brotherhood. I sent you a message two standard weeks ago."

Gesturing to one of the youngest Elites for his datapad, he looked at the females while he waited. "Names?"

"Jira'kirene is my name. My sister's name is Kidafan'asha. My brother is Ghet'sivaamee."

The barely-four-foot Elite youngster, his eldest grand-daughter at the age of seven, came up with the datapad, awaiting more orders. He rested his right hand upon the young head, his main thumb on his left hand tapping keys to scroll downward through the messages received in the last three human weeks. Finally, he came to a message, opening it and rereading it silently before closing it and turning off the datapad. "Arai, if you would please stay with me?"

"Yes, grandfather."

Smiling at her kindly, he handed her the small computer, saying to the grown females, "You're in. Ysabelle, assign them bunks with the other females once I'm done interviewing them." He looked at the male. "Ghet'sivaamee, I thank you for escorting two new recruits into my care. They will be protected and looked after."

In a clear dismissal, he turned, his grand-daughter Arai'shivaana right upon his heels, eager to please her grandfather. The two females fell into step behind him, and he said over his shoulder, "Your human comrades will undoubtedly shorten your name, so please do not take it as an offence. It is a sign of endearment with them, and is oft used as a handhold in creating friendships." He looked beyond them, yelling, "Ysabelle! Mir'wustumee! Did I not tell you to follow!"

"Actually–" Ysabelle started, laughing, jogging to catch up.

Leader pushed open the door to the Arbiter's room, seeing him pull a loose-fitting casual robe over his lean, muscled body prior to turning to face them. The Mark of Shame was seen briefly before the robes settled again. "Leader."

"An interview." He looked at Arai. "Hand me that, please." She did, clasping her hands together nervously before her great-uncle swept her up into his arms, sitting upon the desk and handing her a treat. Leader sighed. "You're going to spoil her."

"Hah. She deserves it," Arbiter replied. "Especially after having a stiff grandfather like you."

The two females chuckled, easing up a bit before remembering that a human was still in the room. Ysabelle smiled, then heard the door open again. John's voice said, "I was told by Mendez that there were two new recruits."

Jira'kirene and Kidafan'asha jointly swallowed, and John instantly knew that they had been threatened by their parents with stories as children that if they didn't behave, "I'll leave you out for the Demon to take you!"

He walked over to Arbiter, smiling and accepting the small Elite who was squirming to get from the Elite into the human's arms for spoiling. John chuckled and let her sit upon one broad shoulder, tickling her foot. She squealed with giggles, trying not to fall off, and John stopped so that he could set her down. "You've grown again."

"That's not what Mom says," Arai mumbled. "She says that she was already bigger than I am when she was my age." The young Elite looked up at the human. "Will I ever be as big as you and Grand-Uncle and Grandfather when I grow up?"

John crouched, replying, "Dunno. But if you're smaller, then you can also fight a bit better. You'll be faster than the taller ones, and there won't be as much of you to hold on to!" With that, he picked her up again, tossing her safely to Arbiter, who tickled her and then embraced her warmly.

Leader shook his head. "After years of combat and killing my kind, Master Chief, it is odd for me to see you handle a child of my lineage with such gentleness."

John smiled. "People change. But remember that she hasn't tried to kill me; you have."

"Yes, yes, I remember, Demon."

"No more of a demon than you are."

They returned their attention to the two females when Arai's mother walked into the room stiffly, seeing her daughter squirm out of Arbiter's grasp and back over to latch upon John's waist. He picked her up again, letting her climb to sit on his shoulders. She looked to her mother, who looked at her own father to say, "All right, as long as she's with you. I have some business to take care of with that lazy mate of mine."

And she was gone again. Jira'kirene looked at Leader. "You're not as old as you're said to be."

"No. I had my daughter the year I had been mated on my seventeenth year, and my son three years later. She was mated seven years ago, upon her seventeenth year. This is her eldest daughter."

She tallied up the years. "You're only forty-one!"

"And my mate left me six years ago," he said sadly, "so I may never grow old with her."

He shrugged, looking at his son, seeing the pride there. There was something about that pride . . . something that said that his son wanted to talk with him after the meeting. As quickly as he could, but keeping polite all the way through, he ran through the rules and then gave them training schedules, sending them off with Ysabelle for a tour. Arbiter and John would bring his now-sleeping grand-daughter back to her mother and father. Mir'wustumee stayed behind.

"Well, my son, tell me what it is that is bothering you."

"I wish to gain some wisdom upon a hard subject."

"I'm listening."

"I think love someone."

"May I ask who?"

He saw his son swallow before answering. "A human."

Leader didn't know what to say. He kept his face expressionless, sorting his mind out in quick order. His Elite son . . . his only son, loved a human woman. All right. Who, and then why. "Who is she?"

"Yssa."

Leader nodded slowly. "Does she know?"

"I . . . I don't know. I don't know what to do. I don't know their customs for courting–"

"Hold there."

Mir fell into an embarrassed silence.

Leader paced the length of his brother's room, not touching anything as he came to a stop before the glorious filigreed silvery armor resting reverently, nostalgically, upon a standard armor-rack. "You say you love her."

"Yes."

He studied the helmet, then moved slightly to look at the chestplate, seeing how it must weigh much more than the modern armor. A burden to be the Arbiter, it always seemed to be. A burden to wear the mask of an Arbiter over a broken heart. A burden it was to live with the Burn of the Mark of Shame. Yet his brother still tried to stand tall despite all the weight resting upon him. If only his brother's strength could help him find out how to deal with this. "Why? Why do you love her?"

"She's so . . . real. She started word-sparring with that Ghet'sivaamee. She didn't care that he was almost twice her size, that he could have pulled a sword out at the slightest inclination. She intimidated him into his terminating the argument with her, instead taking it up with me." Mir sighed. "Remember that I had been burned badly by plasma six months before we met with Uncle and the Chief. She didn't leave my side at all. You used that as a reference to show how the partners should work with one another. When everyone was asleep at night, when I couldn't sleep . . . she was always there. She . . . she held my unburned hand. She soothed me in a way that not even Mother could have by being there, by touching my face and resting cool fingers upon my forehead when I was fevered. Yssa . . . is . . ." He collapsed into a chair. "She is something I cannot describe, Father."

Small answers always helped. Small steps a child took before learning to run. Leader rested his hand upon his son's shoulder. "How would you court an Elite?"

"Small words of kindness. Showing her places and things that were pleasing to the eye. Small gifts that have meaning."

"You missed something."

"I know."

"Asking the parent if you might court her."

Silence overcame the two. Finally, Mir shook his head. "Blast it, but the old Chief would never allow me to be with her."

"You don't know that. There are a lot of things you have been overlooking, son."

Rebellious eyes looked up at the father, and Leader sat where his brother had not an hour past. The younger Elite said aggressively, "Really. And those are . . . ?"

"She knows. She's spoken to her father, and both of them spoke to me. She asked me a great many things about our culture."

Mir lowered his gaze, ashamed again. His emotions were upon a rampage. He didn't know what to do, how to do it, or even how to handle this almost-overwhelming affection he felt for Ysabelle. Leader reached over and tipped his son's chin up again, looking into the eyes that were almost a mirror of his own. "She understands that to be mated is generally for procreative purposes. That to show interest is considered a very serious matter."

"You will not allow it, you're saying."

Leader didn't answer for a long moment. The Arbiter had to face trials of many sorts; his brother had taken them in stride . . . even though it had been a stride that limped almost too slightly to be seen or detected. How to deal with this, then? He hadn't the same spirit as Arbiter. They were two separate people, two separate ways of thinking, but both would always come back to the same answer. That had been proven when both had teamed up with the humans to defeat the corruption that was otherwise called the Covenant.

But that had really been the beginning of it, hadn't it? His son had always seemed to be rebellious, not taking orders to their full extent. He never killed a human. He never killed unless it was necessary. Arbiter had been the same.

An arbiter . . . a go-between . . . a mediator . . . a peacemaker.

His son had the spirit of an Arbiter. He had the inclination for peace that an Arbiter usually portrayed. Mir'wustomee was not one who cared about what a person was, but who. He loved one that wasn't Elite. He loved one who loved him in return. He loved someone who had the same peace-loving attributes that he portrayed, but would kill for their friends and family. He loved . . .

By the holiest of all the rings . . .

He loved his soul-mate. She was the reflection in his spirit-mirror. Ysabelle was Mir'wustomee in female and human form; Miur'wustomee was Ysabelle in male and Elite form. They were the two halves of one blade.

Looking back at his son, speaking in a hushed voice that was reverent of just how deep this bond must lie with them, he said, "No. I tell you that I approve of it."

"Wh-what?"

"You and she are well-attuned to each other. You have something that not many who love each other have, and I will explain that to Mendez. Remember that I said that 'to be mated is generally for procreative purposes,' my son. There are Elites who were mated because they loved each other. Sometimes a pair who were mated found out that one or the other were sterile. Myself and my brother were raised by one such couple. They took us in and raised other orphans beside us." Sighing, smiling and gently shoving his son to stand, Leader turned him in the direction of the door. "Go. Find her. Tell her. She wants to know the truth. Get to her before she hurts."

Mir ran to find the woman he loved.