The beginnings of Peace, an aid, and admission of slightly bending the truth

Bathed and somewhat Sober, Pen Met with the Aen Elle. The annoyance she had due to her headache must have worked because for the first time they were polite. Crevan sat at one side of her, Nuada sat on the other. The young king looked very green, she had seen that look before on many after their first battle. Ge'els also looked a bit green, more seasoned than his young king but having seen troops shot off their feet must have been the same kind of shock.

"...Lady Thorn." Ge'els said.

"Viceroy..." Pen said. "Let us cut to the chase shall we...for this battle has cost us all dear."

"Yes, a dear lesson." Ge'els agreed.

"...SO, I"m going to ask, what will you do to aid in the repair of the peace you shattered. MY singers and I can only to so much to replace the pieces...

"You wish to humble us..."

"Humility has its uses." Pen said. "IT was a hard lesson the High King, my sage and now you have learned.."

She said a quiet prayer when, Rhiannon, dressed as a serving wench set a mug of her favorite non-alcoholic beverage at her elbow. She watched her distribute drinks to the rest of the table. The young king's complexion darkened a bit when Rhi leaned over for him to get a look down her breasts. Crevan's lips twitched, amusement or one of his ticks. She decided on amusement, knowing now who had suggested her spymaster disguise herself as a servant. This was going to be an interesting situation.

Ciri lay beside Avallac'h, watching him sleep. He had downed the tea the healers had brought him and immediately passed out. He'd woken only once to vomit into the basin the healers had brought for her morning sickness. She now watched him twitch as if he was going through the trial of grasses again, but his eyes were closed. She wondered what he had seen...they had fought in battles, fought monsters but she had never seen him be sick like that.

"...You do not wish to know my Swallow..." He had said, upon waking when a meal was brought. "It was as if the hells had opened and swallowed us all..."

She did not become concerned until he woke in a cold sweat stiffening a sound of fear. He told her it was ok and go back to sleep.

Avallac'h couldn't sleep after that, the memories of the recent battle mixing with those from when he had been a Red Rider. He'd long ago made peace with that part of his life, but it had returned with a vengeance along with the images of bodies vaporizing from the explosions beneath their feet, limbs shot from bodies. He did not wish to burden Ciri with those images. He rubbed his arms, gods he wanted a fix. He couldn't go back and knew it.

The knock on the door was soft as if the one outside knew that there was another asleep in the room. He opened it to see Regis, looking a bit worse for wear.

"Come, let's take a walk..." The higher vampire suggested. "Clear our heads..."

Yes, that did sound like a good idea. He dressed and told Ciri where he was going.

Regis brought him out into the court gardens, where several males were around a table lit by torchlight. Between two very patient men sat a boy of about fifteen summers who looked like he would run given the chance. When he rose, one would go with him a short distance behind for safety.

"We take care of our own..." Regis said.

A healer rose from the table, approaching them. A slow looking over, and a head shake.

"You want a fix, don't you..." The healer was quite knowing. "I see it on your face, I've even worn that expression...come a longer walk is in order..."

Regis snorted.

"You had fifty years to get your head on straight, literally..." The healer said. "Not all of us do..."

He followed the healer, hoping the need to be high out of his mind would be suppressed for a little while longer.

Crevan stood on his balcony looking out into the garden, on a regular night he would have joined the men around that table. He could not without causing trouble for his past self. He was thankful for Regis and that healer. Both had been blunt with him on the subject. He was thankful he and Regis still spoke on nights like this. He had been reading, distracting his brain from the memory.

He had been truthful about the encounter at Dandilion's tavern. He'd been drunk off his ass, but also had been fistecked to the gills. He'd relapsed in the time between the banishment of the frost and meeting her again. It had been hard, that year and a half...Traveling, avoiding towns when Withdrawals turned him into a twitching mess. It had been that long winter in the blue mountains among the Aen Sidhe and fighting Necrophaes that had brought him to sobriety. Then that spring...the letter that said: "Find me". He had done just that.

The vineyard had been another step. He'd been yanked from his bed at the crack of dawn, told to put on some sturdy clothes. The hours of working out and training, the long day of tending vines. He had no thought for anything else when the need hit he would put on his boots and go raiding with Eskel or run among the rows of vines until he couldn't anymore. Gods he missed them, and the peace he'd found there. He went back to his book, hoping that the memories would not conjure up their demons anymore.