Elfquest The Return

by Orin

Finally following the Starsong, Skywise journeys to the skies, leaving brother and blood behind- until he feels the pull of the wolf once more, and discovers that some bonds last longer than even the stars own time...

TITLE: Elfquest – The Return

AUTHOR:  Orin

RATING:  R. For the touchy' feely down the line. ^_^

DISCLAIMER:  Elfquest copyright 2002 Warp Graphics, Inc. Elfquest, its logos, characters, situations, all related indicia, and their distinctive likenesses are trademarks of Warp Graphics, Inc. All rights reserved.

SPOILERS:  Up to Shards I guess…

FEEDBACK:  Yes, but please be gentle.

TIMELINE: A few years after the ending of Shards.

SUMMARY: For Skywise, the starsong has long since surpassed the Wolfsong. Finally following that call, he journeys to the stars, leaving brother and blood behind… Until he feels the pull of the wolf once more…And Skywise discovers that some thing's last longer than even the stars own time…

WARNINGS: Um, angst, elf-pain, and more elf-pain… slight hints of lemon, and male/male pairings and more elf-pain. Well, this is Elfquest after all. ^__^

DEDICATION – This fic is for Jen, who was horrified when she discovered that Skywise's wolfblood was taken from him and adamant that he somehow get it back. So, here we are. O__O Any and all typos/mistakes are mine… Sorry.

ELFQUEST – THE RETURN

PRELUDE

FOREVER

*****

Leetah studied the stargazer, remembering that during her captivity in the mountains she had noted the obvious closeness between the barbarian chief and his silver-haired advisor.

"You love him, don't you?"

Skywise's thin brows shot up toward the rim of his metal face guard. "Don't you?" he countered impishly.

Wendy Pini – Elfquest; The Novel.

*****

He was leaving.

It was a simple enough fact and one that Cutter could understand inherently; he had left before. Once through the force of another, and once when he had been sent away by his chief.

But he had never gone away… for a reason of his own choosing. Never of his own will. Never of his own inclination. And Cutter knew himself and his own heart well enough to know that those reasons – whatever they might be – hurt. They hurt the wolf-chief, because however he looked at the cause and aims, or tried to rationalize and argue out the logic of those reasons with all the simplicity of the wolf in him; the outcome was still the same.

Skywise was leaving. 

The stargazer was leaving him, leaving them all.

And so, yes, it hurt. And Cutter was angry. He wanted to be. He wanted to rage, to shout, to vent a frustration that mingled so inextricably with fright that he could not even begin to say where one left off and the other began.

Cutter took a careful step back and shook the pale hair from his eyes. He stared hard, eyes narrowed.

**Were you even going to say goodbye, 'brother'?**

His sending was angrier than justified of course and the accusation rang clear. But Cutter did nothing to hide it. Let him feel it. Let him know.

There was a low growl from the elf before him as white teeth flashed briefly in the moonlight, a lupine snarl. It seemed there was a little wolf in the stargazer still.

**It would have been better that way. You know it.**

**I 'know,'** came Cutter's scathing sending, **that you were about to slink off to the stars – with your tail between your legs.** His own growl was lower and infinitely more wolf-like that his brother's. It was an unconscious sign that however little wolf remained in Skywise, it was not enough to hold him. As a Wolfrider he would be grounded, but without the blood of the world of Two Moons flowing through him, there was essentially nothing to hold him back. Save kin. Or love.

But the mountain between loyalty and contentment had long since become so hard to cross. Just as the lines between restlessness and need had been growing more and more blurred for Skywise. The stars called him, Cutter knew it, and he had always known it. Even as a cub Cutter had known his older brother, Skywise to be different. But once the starsong had been tempered and quelled by the strength and obstinacy of the Wolfsong.

Once.

They did not fight anymore. Not so much. And for the first time Cutter understood that this was not because the differences between them were so little, but because they were so great that it was hard for them to find a common ground to thread on. They had nothing to compare anymore. So they had nothing and no reason to split hairs.

There was balance, yes, but it was the balance of two opposites, each standing on the edge of a precipice with no way to bridge the growing gap between.

Holding onto the Now made it easy to ignore that break, and Cutter could forget, living in the eternal present. But Skywise had long since lost that luxury. The stargazer had since stopped mourning the loss as well. Cutter could not remember when exactly that had happened; perhaps it was when Skywise had first flown the palace – by himself. He needed no more supervision from Timmain on pulling the great structure to the sky.

And with nothing to regret, there essentially was nothing to hold him back.  Those ties had been cut with the severing of his wolf-blood. Only loyalty, love and need had kept Skywise there, for a long time.

Loyalty still remained; Cutter could sense it even beneath the growl his brother was hiding under. There was still love in his bearing, a reluctance to ever harm the one it was directed at, emotionally or otherwise. And need…

Skywise needed the stars.

More than he needed Cutter.

And that brought Cutter right back to hurt.

It was a very base resentment, a primitive pain, and he knew it. But it rose within Cutter regardless and it made him feel like a yearling cub again, trying to push an elder to give ground. Only Skywise was no longer older than Cutter… And with the wolf in him all but vanished, the stargazer saw no reason to yield from his 'chief'.  The instinctive urge brought with the onslaught of the alpha was gone.

So Skywise growled back.

"You can't stop me," he said, and Cutter saw another brief flash of anger as Skywise clenched his fists. "And you need me now as little as you needed me a turn ago, or a turn before that."

The stargazer said the words softly enough, but his reply was spoken through gritted teeth, and Cutter could see his head dip in that obstinate stance that the Chief knew well. Stubborn almost to a fault, when he wanted to be. He was like Cutter that way.

Cutter's brows furrowed. It was about the only thing they had left in common…

Skywise saw those indigo eyes narrow, saw the age in them, a sense of time that had not touched him yet, immortal though he was. He knew nothing of the pain Cutter had suffered in his absence, he only knew of it. But Skywise knew too that the grief in those eyes would heal, given time. That it was already on the road to healing, but Cutter would never be so young again as the brother Skywise had known.

That time had passed.

"So, you run?"

He flinched as though Cutter had struck him. Felt in ire rise in him at the taunt and the implication. He had never run from a confrontation, not with Cutter. He was not one to hide from his brother… But they had changed and their situations were different. So Skywise quelled his ire doggedly.

"Yes," he said softly, seeing the flash of shock on Cutter's face and ignoring it. "You said it once yourself, Cutter. This is where the river of our dreams part. My path is the larger way."

Cutter's voice curled with scorn, it sounded cruelly mocking to the stargazer's ears.

"You path is just some misbegotten dream."

Across the distance between them Cutter watched Skywise's reaction with cold calm. His chin tilted proudly, and his eyes blazed with chilly fire in a face that was white with anger. In his quiet wrath Skywise could be a Wolfrider again, he could be wolf again. True wolf. The sky above seemed to swell in sudden sympathy with his rage. Cutter flicked his gaze upwards; watching clouds briefly obscure the brightness of Mother Moon.

"And so what if it is?" Skywise shook his head defiantly, frosty mane whipping about his face as the wind rose to echo his agitation.  "Leetah told me once; I'm not a Wolfrider anymore… I didn't understand her then. But I do now. There's no place for me here-"

Sapphire eyes widened. Cutter fought down the panic inside him.

"No!"

"And you can't make me back down!" Skywise stabbed an accusing finger towards Cutter. "You don't have that power – or that right anymore."

Above them, the clouds rolled. Around them, the wind surged. The night darkened.

Cutter stilled. He stilled so completely that the only thing moving in him was the hammering of his own fluttering pulse.  The bolt of pain that shot through him was as real as though Skywise had taken New Moon and slashed at his heart. Because Skywise was right. Because the stargazer could fling the words at him like poison, and not know the hurt they caused. Because the gap was that big.

Because it was truth, and they both knew it. And because it had been voiced, at last.

Only Skywise was not as ignorant to the pain as Cutter thought.

He saw the hurt, felt it was a mirror of what he was feeling inside and his face softened the tiniest fraction. Even in pain, through the white-hot anger and resentment he was feeling, Cutter was magnificent. Skywise still found himself bending to that indomitable strength of will, even though he was no longer bonded by blood to the wolf-chief.

How could anyone not? To see something standing so proud and tall, as natural and wild and as striking as one of those great spirits humans insisted on calling him and his kind. His hair loose and untamed like its owner, his fists clenched in quiet passion, his eyes flashing with fire-ice.

For an instant Skywise was lost.

He closed his eyes against the sight of his brother's pain, hating that he was causing it, hating that he was leaving, but needing more than what he had. He was not Wolfrider, he was not a High One, or even an immortal born. What was he?

Skywise turned away.

"You're my brother, Cutter. But not my chief."

Cutter's eyes hardened. The word cracked out, harsh and commanding in its denial.

"No."

Skywise did not turn. He knew the look the other was wearing, he did not need to see it. Instead, the stargazer raised his eyes up to the night sky; but the stars and the moon obscured as they were by rolling clouds did little to appease the ache inside him.

None of it had ever been planned. Skywise had never been good at plotting things for the long run. It had never been the Way. Just as Cutter had never planned for any of the events arisen that had driven them apart, that had changed them. All of them.

His leaving was not so strange he could tell Cutter. The difference being that for once, it was what Skywise had chosen for himself.

All he had known, back in the beginning – and he had been naïve – had changed and was changing still. But he could not go back. By leaving he could make that literal. He would not be able to go back. And though a part of Skywise screamed in protest to that, he could not ignore the bridge-burning fire that was lurking, licking just beneath his skin, hot and tense with the pressure of holding it in.

The pretence of appearing to be normal, when he was not. He was not like them, not any more. Happy, yes most of the time perhaps. But not content to be cocooned, wrapped and bound by wolves and Wolfriders. Trapped as he was in a metaphorical Preservers weaving.

If he kept going long enough, it would kill him. He needed…

"You let me go once, you can do it again," Skywise said flatly. "Just as you did Ember."

"No! That was different, she needed to go."

Skywise did not answer, instead he shook his head once, and with a purposeful step, he began to walk away. There was no point in wasting words.

"Don't you run away from this! Like you're running from everything else! Don't--"

And firm hand grasped his arm. Skywise could feel the heat and the anger radiating from Cutter. And in the sudden closeness, the antagonism and need staggered him. With a snarl he tried to jerk his arm from Cutter's grasp. He felt rising surge of alarm when Cutter would not let go. He could not bear that, not the pain and the hurt, all caused by him. Could Cutter be so blind?

"Let me go, Cutter!" 

Cutter seemed to tower over him in his fury, and Skywise fought that instinctive urge to back down, to simply agree. He could not breathe at the proximity and the intensity, all the air in the world seemed to be caught in his throat. Choking.

**Let me go!**  Because he could not speak.

"No."

Cutter's eyes were hard, bright and sharp like New Moon. And he did not let go, if anything, his grip tightened. Skywise could feel the iron hold of those fingers digging into his upper arm mercilessly. Fighting for breath, for the clarity of the need was still in him, just as strong, despite Cutter and his closeness and his ferocity, Skywise's lips moved, worked themselves to force the words out. They were hoarse and stammered.

"Leetah can-"

Something dangerous flashed in Cutter's eyes, and he wrenched Skywise close to him, his face mere inches from the stargazer's own. Furiously, he defended his lifemate.

"Leetah has nothing to do with this!"

His lips were drawn back, in a wolf's warning snarl.

It was too much. With a strangled growl of his own, Skywise finally wrenched his arm free. Furiously, he locked eyes with Cutter.

"She has everything to do with this!"  His face tightened, and Cutter could visibly see the gazer gather himself, take a steadying breath, trying, grasping desperately for the shattered pieces of his composure. Briefly, silver eyes closed, clenched shut, Skywise's hands curling into fists at his side, echoing the motion. Cutter saw the knuckles whiten as that fist tightened. His own hands itched in abrupt sympathy.

 "She took my wolfblood," he whispered, "and now that it's gone… What use am I here?"

Those eyes opened. They were damp.

Cutter's breath caught. He began to shake his head, but Skywise was not finished.

"Cutter, tell me? Tell me truly?" came his whisper. It was torn and close to breaking as Cutter had ever heard. He watched Skywise's hands unclench themselves, to hang limply at his sides. 

"She was born knowing she would live-"

He broke off with a frustrated growl and Cutter watched him pace before him, back and over, back and over. He wrapped his arms around himself in a tortured self-embrace. Cutter wanted to reach out and grab the stubborn gazer in that instant, to pull him close and shake him until he understood.

He needed Skywise, his wit and his irreverence. His unending loyalty was the only thing that had remained unchanged through the passing of the seasons, through all the loss and pain. And Cutter needed them. Needed him. Only Skywise could invoke the fire when all Cutter felt was ice, light when there seemed only shadow.  There would always be a place for him. Cutter would always need him.

Foolish cub though he was… But a Soulbrother still.

"She's stronger than me," Skywise was whispering. "She can-"

Another shake of that head, and all Cutter could do was watch the anguish, unable to move, or even to breathe as Skywise fought with something Cutter could not fathom. Something he could neither see, nor thwart.

"I can't stay here," Skywise said with sudden clarity. As though the reality had just hit him, the gazer gave a tortured moan, and he staggered painfully.  Cutter felt sudden waves of cold horror emanate from him. His eyes were wide and staring.

"I can't stay and watch you all… die."

"Skywise-" he stammered, suddenly helpless in breaking a silence already flooded with broken things. But Skywise only slumped, folding over and falling to his knees. He clutched his stomach, shaking, curling inward, huddling over and rocking slightly.

"I can't," he whispered again.

Feeling faintly dizzy at his brother's pain, Cutter reached out, for the first time hesitant, only to have Skywise jerk away as though the touch burned.

"Don't!"

Through the ache his voice was barely recognizable. But its meaning was clear to Cutter. He took an unneeded breath and when he came in contact again he tightened his hold when Skywise would have pulled away.

He had not thought- Never imagined… Or just did not want to…

"Skywise…"

Skywise twisted in Cutter's arms, until he could see the Wolfrider's face, could meet his eyes. Looking up at Cutter, he was abruptly forceful through the hurt, uncompromising and so, so sad.

"I can't," he explained, then harsher, "I won't." And louder again, desperate, echoing inside Cutter's mind, ** I can't!**

Cutter shook his head, unable to speak or send. There was nothing he could say… That he had been blind, yes. But it would not help. Nothing could… Instead, the wolf-chief buried his head against Skywise's shoulder, gripping his friend tightly for a moment.

Skywise seemed to feel the need for further explanation and he sounded apologetic against Cutter's ear.

"It's better-"

Cutter pulled back, but just a little.  **Better, for you…** he sent, but there was no malice in the sending, only a sadness of his own, and a sense of understanding for the first time. Skywise did not have the luxury of the Now as Cutter did, and there was no way for him to reclaim it, as Cutter could.

"This way…" Skywise went on. Cutter watched something shift on the stargazer's face. Something that was beginning to crack and move again.

Cutter's hands moved of their own violation, curved up around strong shoulders, felt them tremble, and felt them slump. **But not our way, brother. Not the Way.**

Skywise was shaking his head, he seemed to be holding himself upright with great effort.

"I won't have to-"

But Cutter interrupted him. **You don't have to…** The Wolf-Chief sounded his years in wisdom and understanding as he sent the thought on waves of reassurance and sympathy, letting them wash over his friend in a surge of compassion.

It was enough to make Skywise crumple. He slumped against Cutter abruptly; his arms seemed to be clutching the Wolfrider with a sense of urgency that Cutter only half-understood. Cutter could feel the hands curl into fists against his back. He could feel the heat and shame radiating from Skywise for the first time.

"I'm... sorry…"

He felt something sting behind his eyes. Knew what it was, and did not deny them as the tears came. **I know, Fahr.**

**I should be stronger. But this- I can't…** There was desperation there, he felt it, could almost taste its acerbity. And again, the sense of shame came to Cutter, shadowed as it was behind the myriad of emotions pouring from his brother. 

"I-I know," he whispered, and he sent the words too, just to assure Skywise that he did indeed know. That his understanding was hard won and even reluctant, but it was there. Cutter went on, needing to make Skywise understand too. He needed the Stargazer to know.

"But… I always knew before, that you'd come back. When Rayek- and when I sent you with Ember. I've always known." **Because you never wanted to leave.** he sent.

He felt Skywise stiffen.

**Tam…**

Shock raced through Skywise, followed by that familiar sense of wretchedness that Cutter was beginning to recognize as something Skywise felt instinctively for daring to follow the starsong, instead of the Wolfsong. For daring to desert his chief. Despite all his words, and all his resentment at Cutter's behest, and all his yearning and his fear. It still tore at Skywise to leave.

The new knowledge shook Cutter.

"And now. It's you who wants to go, and you need to…" He whispered it, just to assure Skywise that he knew, that he could read the need growing in the Stargazer everyday.  "And you said I can't stop you, and I know I can't – and I – So I don't know if that means you'll ever come back."

There was pronounced stiffening from the form in his arms. And then softly, with infinite sorrow.

"Oh, Tam…"

It was all Skywise needed to say.

Cutter shifted, his arms tightening just a little, settling him and Skywise more firmly against eachother. Skywise's head bent to rest against the warm shoulder presented to him. His hand stroked the wolf-chief's back and then stilled. Whatever was to come, he could not leave it like it was. There was pain and hurt still, and it needed to be healed before he could leave. There was more to be said, Skywise could not leave him without knowing his brother could be whole.

Cutter was silent as well for a long moment. Motionless and looking at the points of distant light over Skywise's shoulder.

Stars. Silent and watching as always. The stars that were calling Skywise away from him.

The span of time extended, Cutter let it. His only desire for that moment was to hold onto the elf in his arms, and never let go. He felt Skywise sigh against him as he turned the thought over, shifting slightly, almost bonelessly, deeper into the his embrace. Cutter inhaled a careful even breath, felt that familiar tang assail him, the one that told him it was Skywise, the one that had changed and remained just as familiar and just as unchanged all in one.

"Still the same," he murmured.

An unconsciously held breath was released. Raising his head, Cutter looked down, marvelling how right Skywise still felt beside him. So different to how it was with Leetah – but the sameness could not be denied either. They were two sides of the same, he and the stargazer. How could something they had held onto for so many seasons, been so indestructible as to last as long as it did? And how could it be so subtly fragile the same time?

Letting his eyelids drop, the wolf-chief brushed light fingertips across one pale, angled cheek, then his mouth sought out Skywise's throat, surrendering to the aching need to know his brother again – one last time – to taste and feel him, like they used to.

There was a small surprised noise from Skywise, but his hands rose, hesitating halfway before tangling through silken strands to clasp eachother in Cutter's hair.  Cutter gave Skywise's neck a slow swipe of his tongue, an almost possessive gesture along the fluttering pulseline.

Skywise's eyes closed briefly, and he exhaled a soft gasp at the familiar sensation. He answered it instinctively by nuzzling the side of the wolfchief's throat, drawing the intoxication of the other's scent deeply into his senses. And they were senses so blunted that his heart gave a lurch at the loss of clarity, compared to what it once was…

Biting back his frustration, Skywise's hands moved restlessly along Cutter's back, feeling the heat of the skin beneath his fingertips, feeling Cutter's muscles bunch up where he touched. His lips moved against exposed flesh, and then briefly, white teeth nibbled, leaving a quickly fading trail of light marks along bronzed skin.

The hot-cold sensation that it left in its place had Cutter tilt his own head back, surrendering more of his own throat to Skywise. There was no decision or wariness to the gesture, simply the need to have as much as possible.

Then it stopped, and Cutter growled.

As his eyes refocused, Cutter found Skywise looking at him, something altogether indiscernible in his eyes. He felt calloused fingertips brush along the dip in his collarbone, brushing beneath the golden torc nestled on his neck.

"What if I make you a promise?" The soft voice had acquired a husky tone.

"A… promise?" Cutter caught that hand, twining his fingers with Skywise's as he looked at him.

"That you won't ever need to leave the ground to fly with me – that you won't even need to fly to see me again. That I'll be back, someday?"

Cutter could not stop himself. Hardly daring to hope.

"You'd promise?"

Skywise cast his eyes starward briefly and Cutter watched his mouth quirk the tiniest fraction as he nodded and his fingers clenched around Cutter's own. Solidly assuring.

"On all the stars in the sky."

But Cutter was shaking his head even before Skywise had finished the sentence, and the immortal felt a sudden jolt of fear.

"No! Not- not them…"

Skywise released a silent sigh. His fears groundless.

"Stars fade; some nights I can't even see them," Cutter explained, "with all those clouds…" He gestured briefly with his free hand to the obscurity that blanketed the stars, just to illustrate. He sounded so much the earth-bound Wolfrider then, that Skywise had to fight a small smile, despite the situation and all the pain. Sometimes he really was his father's son.

Cutter abruptly released Skywise's fingers, captured his face in his hands, and Skywise blinked, bringing his own up to clasp around them gently.

"Promise on us, brother. You and me. Forever. Promise," his voice was fervent, because he seemed to know that an oath on all they were could not be broken by the stargazer. Could not and would not.

Skywise only gripped those hands more tightly, pulling the Wolfrider close to him, striving to ignore the panic in Cutter's voice. Pulled Cutter so close their noses touched.

**I promise, Tam.**  He felt Cutter release his face; those arms curling around his neck instead, felt the chief bury his nose against his shoulder. Felt the relief and the gratification.

Not forever. He would be back, someday. It was not forever. Just for now…

** I promise.**

************************

She was stuck.

The whole situation had crept up upon her, irresistible as it was. She was alone, and that was an event that did not happen often at all. Since it did not, she had thought the occasion had merited a little celebration… and a little exploration. Trouble was, exploration usually got her into trouble. Sitting where she was, taking stock of her current state of affairs, she found this particular case to be no different.

She was stuck.

Her face displayed a strange mix of startled surprise and gloomy disappointment. She chanced a glare around her, wondering if she could blame anyone else for her position. The expansive room was empty though, and all she found were clear sparkling crystal walls that shimmered and blinked back at her fierce look.

She was still alone. She was still stuck. And she was becoming rapidly bored.

The word 'Puckernuts' came briefly to mind. She wanted to say it, to send it, but knew better. It might get her unstuck, but the amount of grief it would bring with it was not worth the danger. Then she briefly considered crying, but the empty room assured her that there would be little point. The walls could not give her the sympathy she felt was justifiable.

And why was she there anyway? She frowned. Her thoughts were not accustomed to coherent thinking for any extended amount of time, so sometimes little Jink lost track of the reasons she did what she did. Something had been missing… And she was alone and - oh yes - she was bored. She was bored, and tapped and alone. A faint shadow of the frown she had seen on her mother's face once or twice crossed her own briefly.

She pushed herself off the ground and stood, wobbling to survey her realm. It was still empty. That was not right. She tottered ever so slightly as she turned her head. Aside from her own shadow, Jink could discern no other form in the room. No ankles or warm knees entered her view, and certainly nothing to grab onto to aid her journey. Still she was a resourceful child, and determination typically made up for lack of skill – or co-ordination.

However, walking was something you really had to practise at. So her attempt ended up as an inelegant wobble, followed by an unceremonious return to the floor.

That did it.

**Puckernuts!**

She certainly had her father's indignant mental tone down pat but still could not manage to convince her mouth to form more than a 'Gah'. She squinted her eyes and glared out from the alcove she was still stuck in. Still alone. And she was bored and getting tired and she just wanted to play!

At that thought, her second raging 'Gah' adjusted itself to an interminable bawl. Her aggravation was such that she failed to notice the approach of bare feet.

"Jink?" a soft tenor voice murmured sleepily, "Shhh. Your mother's having a nap."

A mental image of her tall mother brushed her mind briefly; she was lying on the bed, curled up in a blanket much like the one that usually covered the young child.

It had Jink blinking in surprise and no small amount of indignation.

**Nap? Mother no nap! Jink nap!**

Astonishment rippled at her, followed closely by sardonic humour. **Tired mothers nap,** came the amused reply.

**No nap now. Jink play now…**

The other's mind registered reluctance but there shadowed a hint of hesitation behind it as well. Ever the opportunist, Jink

grabbed onto it like a veritable leech.

**Please?* * she persisted.

**Not so loud, cubling,** the other mind chided gently, **You'll wake your mother up.** There was gentle concern behind the other's sending.

**Babah?**

**Yes?**

A face descended into view, familiar and reassuring. Jink scuttled back on her rear and raised her head to regard it solemnly.

Frost-white hair, eloquently arched eyebrows - in question - that were also white, and in eternal contrast to the alabaster skin and gently slanting silver eyes. Eyes that blinked back at her and then suddenly winked. Skywise's lips curved upward in a tiny smile. Jink blinked back, momentarily stunned as she always was by the diverse differences with which she was treated by her father in disparity to her mother. There was great love from both, and it flew to her on waves of reassurance and comfort, in their thoughts and sendings. But her father…

He was different.

Even mother knew so.

But he was there and mother was not, and Jink, young though she was, knew well the differences between her mother and father. Giggling in a manner that was charming – though all Jink was aware was that it always made her father smile in return – she lifted her small arms in supplication and wiggled her tiny fingers.

**Up! Play!** she demanded.

Skywise's smile widened at her antics, but that was no surprise really, he usually found himself smiling around his daughter. And though he felt the impulse to raise her up at her urging, he resisted it. Instead the stargazer folded his arms and considered her critically. Jink's fingers continued to wriggle for a few moments more until when she saw him make no move, whereupon she pouted and dropped her arms.

He was in one of his funny moods.

**Play, Babah?**

No answer, but it was worth a try.

The stargazer just continued to watch her with a small frown creasing his face. His eyes narrowed briefly and he tilted his head. Jink tilted hers in return and she saw him fight another smile. She wanted to raise her arms again, and to demand that he take her up and play immediately, but he was still in his funny mood and so she knew the order would be futile until he got over it and let her play.

"Now, how did you get from there… to here?" he murmured, with a glance behind himself. Clever though Jink was - and that was pure fact undeniable - the little cub still had to master the talent of just walking. But Skywise and Timmain found her out and about on occasion nonetheless. It caused the Stargazer and the High One more worries than Jink felt practical.

**Play!* * Jink demanded again. She knew perfectly well how she got around, though sometimes it came on her unexpected. Still, she did not remain alone for long. Whenever she 'jinked out' one or the other of her parents typically came running.

Teleporting though, was Jink's secret. It was about the only advantage she had in her tiny arsenal, and she was not about to give it up. Particularly to one of her father's bizarre moods.

**Play! Now!** She was aware to a certain extent that her father's mind was elsewhere for the moment, and that was all fine, but Jink felt it was unreasonable that he use their playing time to be somewhere else. It seemed entirely unfair to her.

And since her father did not seem too put out to take her up on her sound advice for recreation time together, Jink decided to up the volume a little. She concentrated another little frown crossing her face again. Had Skywise been playing closer attention to his daughter, he would have recognized the expression as one that usually pertained something nasty.

**PLAY!**

The mental demand was amplified by the Palace and Jink's desire to be heard. It was effective – to say the least. Skywise was brought back to the present with a jerk and a wince. His hands automatically went to his ears, but of course, the cry was a mental one, so trying to block out the sound physically was completely ineffective.

He could see his daughter gearing up for another outburst, but before she could, he threw her a mental reprimand, followed by a low, "Shhh!"

Jink did not look one bit put out by her father's ire. She pouted. Though at least he was listening to her again. She supposed that was something…

Skywise saw the look and knew it for what it was. He fought a sigh. Sometimes she was so like him that it was maddening. Abandoning his brief irritation, he tried reason. Sometimes it actually worked quite well with Jink, young though she was. He half suspected it was his tone, sending and physical, more than anything else.

"It's been a hard day – night - for your mother," he tried softly. "There's a storm of sorts raging outside. She's insisted that she can handle it alone… I don't know though," here, his eyes narrowed, "I don't like these star-storms."

Casting his worry aside momentarily, Skywise forced a smile and crouched down to look more closely at his frowning daughter.

"But it seems as though I can lend a helping hand here at least."

That was her cue. Jink raised her arms again obediently, albeit she made no further mental demand. It seemed that her father's strange mood was about to pass. She knew what came next. Skywise chuckled as he caught her up in his arms, and then laughed outright at her delighted burble. She waved her chubby hands about in glee as the stargazer twirled around in a circle a few times, lifting her high and then swinging low in a graceful arc.

Jink squealed again, and Skywise smiled.

"How about you and I play together for a bit?"

Another delighted burble greeted his suggestion.

*************************************

Cutter was stargazing.

Again.

The night was cold and clear. The silver sentinels of Mother and Child moon shone through faint clouds that drifted slowly by. The moonlight itself was strong enough to illuminate the shadows of the forest, the leaves overhead creating a dark dappling shade. Blues and silvers reigned everywhere.

The forest itself was hardly silent to those who knew it well, but cloaked in the shadows and luminescence of the moons as it was, it seemed that no sound of bird or beast disturbed the quiet. The nights were growing colder. There would be frost come morning, and after that, snow, cold and severe. Wintry winds moaning through the treetops, white frost embracing bare branches that would glisten in the moonlight…

But for the moment, there was no better night for watching the stars.

So absorbed was he in the tiny points of light that he failed to notice that he had company – until Holdfast's low rumbling reminded him.  It seemed his wolfriend was performing the act more out of afterthought than any obligation to protect his chief though, because it sounded slightly sulky to Cutter. Holdfast did not approve of Cutters inattentiveness. And it showed.

"You're brooding again." It sounded out quite close to him, close enough for him to touch, to feel. Her steps had been as soundless as a wolf's. But her scent had made him aware of her presence.

Cutter had to fight the half-smile that threatened his lips, despite his brooding session being interrupted.

"I haven't brooded in years."

He reached up to capture his lifemate's waist with a mock growl and pulled her down beside him. Leetah's laughter rang out low and soft. A habit, he supposed. One she had only discovered once she had spent a turn living in a Holt with her tribe.

She struggled playfully against him, knowing it would only make his grip tighten, and trusting that it would. It did. With another mock growl Cutter latched onto her neck and bit softly in warning. But Leetah knew this game well and instead of stilling as her 'chief' commanded, she gave his back a thump – and again for good measure. She felt him chuckle against her neck. He pulled back then, but his lips pressing onto her own cut off her squeal of surprise.

Eventually they pulled apart. Leetah was smiling and fighting laughter.

"You always were a fast learner," she giggled.

Cutter shot her a scorching look. "I've had a good teacher," was all he said. But it was enough to get Leetah laughing again and Cutter made no protest when she reached out to cradle his face in her hands, lightly stroking the silken facefur along his cheekbones.

"It's a simple thing to teach, with such an avid student," she told him.

The Wolfchief grinned, moving forward again. But he was stalled by Leetah as she reached out a slender hand to catch the Lodestone that dangled from Cutter's neck. He stilled in his alarm, completely frozen as he watched her move the stone through nimble fingertips. He stilled, as Skywise's voice grew in his mind, completely unbidden.

"I know we've done this before… But knowing you, Cutter, you'll be needing this soon enough."

The weight of the Lodestone had been unfamiliar and strangely comforting in its weight as Skywise had hung it around his neck. Just as the warmth of those hands as his own had moved to encircle them had been.

There had been a smile, still slightly apologetic, through it all. "And this way… You'll always have a piece of me, at least."

Sorrow at the implication, but trust at a promise made. "Always," Cutter had agreed.

"So… you won't forget. Even with the Now…" More of a question than a statement. And the insecurity there had stung, despite everything. "You'll remember… even-"

A low whisper interrupting, fierce in its intensity.  "Always, Fahr. Always."

Conviction behind sapphire eyes, holding onto silvered grey with all the devotion inside.

Always.

Leetah spent a few moments further playing with the stone, passing it from hand to hand. Her dark finger's curved around the slender fragment with a sense of loving care. She was smiling fondly. Cutter's face darkened in a frown, his own hand shot out, caught her hand, gently halting her movements and then pulling away.

He needed that weight…

Leetah watched him settle next to Holdfast again, pulling his legs up so that he could rest his arms across them, cradling his head. She wondered if he knew how very young he looked when he did that. The Lodestone was loose in his hands, and though Cutter moved it about in his palm, his eyes were still fixed resolutely on the night sky.

And he was brooding. Most definitely. He only sat like that when he brooded.

And Leetah knew exactly what it was her beloved was brooding about. Her eyes slid down to the Lodestone that dangled from Cutter's neck. Sometimes he did this still… even though the time had passed. Sometimes, when she thought he was done, she would find him, stargazing. Alone.

Resolutely, she slid in close to him, and did not even blink when he cast her a sidelong glance, almost in surprise. It was as though he was startled to find she was still there, beside him.

But she would always be there.

With a soft sigh, Leetah titled her head to the side, leaning it against Cutter's shoulder.

"The stars are so bright tonight," she whispered.

Cutter nodded.

"Yes, they are."

But he was no longer looking at them. He had bunched up a little, and his eyes were fixed on the Lodestone cradled in his hand again, and his gaze seemed very far away to her. His voice was flat.

Relentlessly, Leetah went on. She huddled closer, shivered dramatically, though the cold did not bother her so much anymore. As drastically different it as from her desert home, she had grown accustomed to it. She had grown to love it, and the lush green of her Holt. Lifting a sender arm she pointed. "That's the Great Wolf, isn't it?"

Another nod from her lifemate, and she had to fight the urge to sigh. He could be impossible sometimes. Though, all things considering, she supposed she was lucky to get any reaction at all. And as though Cutter could sense her growing irritation, he seemed to pull himself a little straighter. His hand tightened around the Lodestone, but with his other, he made a gesture that mirrored hers and pointed to the right of 'The Great Wolf' constellation.

His fingers traced the outlines deftly. "Following the Hunter," he said quietly, "And that's the Hub of the Great Sky Wheel, and Goodtree's Rest…" He stopped briefly and Leetah tore her eyes from the night sky to glance at him. Her heart gave an unbidden lurch at his expression, or lack of. He was like that; he had been since her night's absence – a night for her at least. An eternity for him. Seeking to shield others from pain, even when it was his own. And through his silence and his outward calm Leetah saw that pain. She always saw. As had Skywise… But there was only Leetah now.

His knuckles were white around the stone.

"I... I don't remember much more of them," Cutter murmured, his voice sounding very strange, as though from a long distance. Leetah heard though, she took notice when another would have brushed it aside. "I was told," he continued, "But I've forgotten." And Leetah understood then the hidden nuance there. So simple. Shame. She looked again, read it in the way he sat, tightly around himself as though to ward off the world to a crime he had never committed.

She fought for stillness, fought the urge to cradle that stubborn head against her breast and block him from all the pain in the world. But she knew he would not let her, she saw his hand still tightly clenched around the small stone and she knew.

"It's all right to forget," was what she said instead.

His rejoinder was immediate and it startled her in its honesty.

"Is it?" He never did."

Sometimes he did this too. And when he did, it always shocked her so that she had to wonder how much was truly left of the one she knew. Her Tam.

"Beloved," she dared a touch, a gentle hand; "You can say his name."

But Cutter seemed not to hear her. He stared resolutely at the dark tessellation of the night. From where Leetah sat, his profile was stern, though his words were soft.

"I…" His free hand fluttered, gesturing as though to reach out and grasp something Leetah could not see. "Sometimes I feel… like I should never forget. Even for a moment. But then, I should forget too." Here Cutter shook his head and Leetah had to worry at the grim little smile he gave the stars high in the sky. "That's the Way," he said firmly, "And I've forgotten. I should-"

"Miss him."

Only because he would never allow himself to admit it, because it was against what he was trying so hard to regain. And all his tribe knew it, that the pain and the worry were finally receding, even though his Brother was gone, the pain was still being replaced by something… else. Leetah watched him falter.

"I…"

"You're his friend. His Soulbrother."

It was enough to make him frown. Under the light of the moons his eyes were startlingly pale. The twin pools of conflicting emotions reflected nothing of his true turmoil.

"And I should be happy too, for him." He sounded as though he said it more to convince himself than any other, that by saying it aloud he could make it real, could tell his heart it was as it should be and that it was not right to feel the loss. "He has what he wants now."

"And you don't?" But Leetah already knew the answer. It was making Cutter see by admitting it, that she sought.

"I thought – at the time, I was. But…"

"Now?"

"I should be in the Now. That's the Way," he repeated. Leetah pressed herself closer, allowed him to feel her warmth. Cutter was growing less sure of himself with each passing admission.

"You never forgot us when we were apart," she pointed out, but softly, because he still clenched the Lodestone in his hand. "For so long. Why should you forget him? When it's only been a turn of the seasons?"

Another frown from Cutter. He blinked.

"Only one turn…?" He sounded slightly surprised, despite himself, as though the pain had merited a longer passage of time to his mind.

"And when he asked you not to," Leetah pointed out, still quiet but with an air of finality to it. It was all she could say. Perhaps it was all he needed to hear, that knowing note in her voice, that it was not a fault to adhere to a Brothers wish, to cling onto something that was inherently adverse to the mind frame set into his people. It was fine to miss Skywise, good not to forget, because he had asked not to be forgotten, because it was all he ever asked of Cutter when he left… To don't forget.

And Cutter was looking at her again for the fist time in a while, and he finally seemed back in himself as he blinked rather absently and frowned down into her face. He was intent when he said, "You know?"

She squeezed his arm reassuringly and shrugged. "Just a guess," she explained. She did not say that it was obvious. She knew Skywise as well. Not was well as Cutter, but enough to know…

Cutter's gaze held her own and Leetah watched understanding filter across it, until it banished some of the unrest there. He nodded once. "You know. Of course you do. You always do."

Finally, the Lodestone dangled free.

It turned this way and that until it finally settled, pointing toward the Hub of the Great Sky Wheel, as it should. Cutter pulled Leetah close, and hugged her to him with sudden fierceness. She wrapped her arms around his lean frame as he buried his face in her hair, taking a deep breath.

"I miss him," he admitted, his voice very quiet. "Skywise."

She felt him move, knew his gaze shifted to the stars and was aware that he smiled softly.

"I think I always will."

**************************

Of course it had been his fault.

For nearly thirteen turns he had been aware of her ability to teleport, jinking out as she called it. It was a bizarre ability for an elf to have, but Skywise could see times in his past when it certainly would have come in useful. But he could distinguish no discernable reason for Jink to possess such an ability. She and her parents both had never come under any kind of threat in their long years travelling among the stars. It seemed unique to her alone, though Timmain had told him of friends long past with similar abilities.

So her talent had gone mostly unchecked through the years. Timmain would train her in control now and then, but Jink was not one to be tethered – or tutored – in anything she did not see worth learning. She had mastered her abilities as much as she was able. She could control them too, adequately.

"Or course I'll be careful." A laugh. "I've been doing this since before I could walk… I know what I'm doing."

But 'well enough' was not perfect. And 'well enough' was just what cost Skywise his daughter.

There were times when her powers became unpredictable, and almost wild in their spectrum. Jink sensed and knew well enough when theses times came upon her, usually during a star-storm or for a planet's gravitational pull. And when this happened, she had been cautioned not to 'jink out', not to shape-change, or any thing else that would mean manifesting her abilities in any way.

Usually, she conformed.

Except once.

They had been playing, she and he. It had been a game and the simple act of a daughter showing off to her father had turned into centuries of grief-filled searching for both of her parents. Neither she nor Skywise had sensed the slight shift in the ship that had sent them hurtling. And it had happened at once. Her teleportation, Timmain's sending, and Skywise's own sense of alarm suddenly shifting to the fore.

And he had called and his mind had screamed, Timmain's own echo an instant behind – but was an instant too late.

And then Jink was gone, from their minds, their sights and their touch. And in an instant, Skywise had lost the child he had adored from the very moment he had learned of her existence. And there were times when he could close his eyes still, and see her face and the look of abrupt horror that flashed across it the instant before she was gone.

And it had only taken an instant – for his life to change – to go from happiness to grief.

Just an instant.

**************************

End of Prelude

**************************

A few years back I read a wonderful fic 'Last Night' by a talented individual called Mosquito. Needless to say, I was moved by this story. It was as close to a leavetaking as I could ever picture Cutter and Skywise having. Their characters, emotions, were all so on the mark that there were parts of that story that immediately etched themselves into my mind.

I had read it about a year previously, and had to steer myself clear of the urge to read it again – unconscious of otherwise, I did not want the same nuance running through the farewell scene in this story… (Though now I can finally read it again. Whee!!)

So anyway, I had a little trouble when writing the opening part of this fic in that I wanted it to be different, obviously. Don't you hate it when stuff sticks to your mind? Still, I set out to have this fic take a decidedly different vein to it. It's not all hugs n' puppies. ^_^ And not nearly as serene… There's very little closure in this fic, but then there isn't meant to be. I wrote it as I saw fit, because this is only a small part in a much larger series I am planning. This is the prelude… There's much more to come.

Huggles & Take Care,

Orin.