FIFTY-FIVE

            Doreena Roh was sitting on the sofa in the front parlor, her needlework lying forgotten on her lap as she looked at the window.  She had retired to the small sun-lit room to escape from her husband for a while.  Since his ill-fated meeting with Folken Lacour the day before, Erich had become even more impossible.  His usually calm demeanor had changed drastically when their daughter had announced her marriage to the outlander sorcerer's apprentice; and Doreena wasn't even sure that the man who now stalked around their house in such anger was her husband at all.  

            Doreena knew how hurt her husband had been by Jindra's shocking news, for she had always been his favorite – it had almost been impossible for her to do anything wrong in his eyes.  The fact that his adored and trusted daughter had deliberately deceived him had struck something in Erich that had apparently pushed him beyond the limit.   He had been ranting on about Lacour's arrogance and insolence that morning at breakfast – so much so, that Jindra had abruptly stood up from the table and fled upstairs.  The look on her daughter's face had pained Doreena so much that she had slammed her teacup down with such force that the handle had broken off in her hand.  It was at that moment that she decided that enough was enough – she was tired of her home being a battleground between her husband and daughter.  As she looked at her husband's startled expression, she had finally let out all her anger -- at him and his treatment of their daughter -- until the two of them had all but thrown dishes at one another.

            With tears in her eyes, Doreena had fled to the parlor and had remained closeted away for the rest of the morning and early afternoon.  She heard Erich slam the front door as he left presumably for his office.  Jindra had left the house not long afterwards, with no word as to where she had gone or when she would be back – not that Doreena had expected her too.  The older woman shook her head as she thought about where her daughter had probably gone; and she wondered if Jindra was at the moment with the very man who was at the heart of a great many of her family's current problems – and if she would be coming back at all.

            Why shouldn't she be with him?  Erich's acting like a pig-headed idiot – the harder he pushes Jindra the harder she will push back, and then what?  Will he be happy when he drives her away completely?  No matter what he says, I don't believe that Lacour forced her into this marriage . . . no one can make Jindra do anything she doesn't want to do – she's much too stubborn.  But still, how could she have done this – I can't believe that she never stopped to consider the consequences . . . and now it's too late, the damage has already been done.

            The damage . . . Doreena closed her eyes as she let out another weary sigh; for it wasn't just the damage to Jindra's reputation that she had been thinking of, but the damage to her family's relationship.  Like her own parents, Doreena had tried to raise her children in a loving and sharing environment.  She and Erich had tried to give Coren and Jindra as much freedom as possible to explore who they were and what they wanted to do with their lives – and the two of them had grown into very caring, honest and responsible people.  Their relationship with their parents had been such that neither one ever feared going to Doreena or Erich and confiding in them about their feelings, the decisions they were faced with making – even with matters related to members of the opposite sex.  It was the loss of openness and trust that saddened Doreena the most – that Jindra had betrayed their trust – and she was afraid that what had happened between them might never be healed.

            The prospect of losing Jindra, so soon after Coren's death, had caused Doreena to do a lot of thinking over the past two days – and she decided that she would rather have Folken Lacour for a son-in-law than face not having any kind of relationship with her daughter at all.  She knew that no matter how much Erich bullied and ranted, Jindra would never willingly dissolve her marriage to Lacour; and as much as it pained her to believe it, the two of them appeared to love each other quite deeply.

            Doreena knew that the only way the three of them could even hope to rebuild their relationship, would be for she and Erich to try and make a conscious effort to accept Jindra and Folken's marriage – no matter how many misgivings they had or their personal feelings for the sorcerer's tower.  Constantly demeaning and insulting the outlander in their daughter's presence would only drive the wedge deeper between them.  So Doreena had agonizingly resigned herself to the fact that Folken Lacour was now her son-in-law, a member of her family, and should be treated as such.  She only hoped that her husband would be able to find the strength to accept it too – for his sake as well as Jindra's.

            Taking her eyes from the window, Doreena looked down at the needlework project in her lap.  She was contemplating giving it up for the day when the door opened and the very person she had been thinking of peeked in.

            "Jindra . . . you're back."

            "I-I . . . I'm not disturbing you, am I?" The younger woman asked.

            "No, not at all," Doreena answered, a small encouraging smile on her face.

            "C-Can I come in . . . I'd like to talk to you for a few minutes – if that's okay."  Jindra's voice was small and she seemed a little frightened.

            "Of course, dear;" Doreena moved the needlework from her lap and put it on the end table next to her.  "Here, come in and sit down."  She patted the empty space next to her.  Jindra stepped into the room and softly shut the door.  She stood and regarded her mother for a few moments before joining her on the sofa.  The two sat in an uncomfortable silence for several minutes until Doreena finally spoke.

            "So, did you go to see Folken Lacour?"

            "F-Folken . . .?"  Jindra's voice sounded slightly confused.

            "You can't think that I'm dense enough to believe that the two of you haven't seen each other since you were married."

            Her daughter dropped her eyes, "I-I . . . I went to meet a friend of his . . . he – he brought me a message from Folken."  Jindra couldn't stop the blush that crept up her face. 

            "The man is your husband Jindra, and he sends you messages – he can't even come to you in person?"  Doreena couldn't help the scorn that crept into her voice. "Perhaps he's regretting this hasty marriage of yours already?"

            Jindra bristled at her mother's words.  "There was nothing hasty in our marriage, Mother – we planned everything out weeks ago."  She suddenly stopped as she realized what she had just said, the heat rising in her face once again.  The young woman looked away, "I'm – I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean for it sound like – for it to come out like that."

            She swallowed and looked back at Doreena.  "It's – it's hard for Folken to leave the tower . . . for us to see one another."  Jindra trailed off for a moment and looked down at her lap.  "We've only been able to see one another just once since our wedding day."

            "It sounds like a very peculiar marriage, Jindra.  Is that how you want to live the rest of your life – seeing your husband whenever the two of you can steal away for a few moments?  Hiding and sending messages to one another because you can't see each other in person?  Is that the kind of relationship that you want?"

            "No – of course not;" Jindra squeezed her eyes shut and took a breath.  "But it's all we can do right now – we don't have any other choice.  I hate all this hiding, the secrecy and the lies – I'm so sick of it all."

            "And just whose fault is that Jindra?  Your father and I trusted you – and you threw that trust back in our faces like it was nothing.  How do you think that makes us feel?"

            "I never meant for it to be like this!  Do you think I wanted to hurt you and Father?  Do you think I planned to fall in love and then run away one day and get married?  But what was I suppose to do Mother?  I knew how the two of you felt about Folken – you never even gave him a chance, you never even tried to get to know him."  Jindra hurled the words at her mother, he eyes blazing.  "All you knew how to do was hate him because of what he is, you never saw him for who he is."

            Doreena squeezed her eyes shut for a moment as she let out a very weary sounding sigh.  "All we've ever wanted was for you to be happy – to be the person you wanted to be; that's why we put so much trust in you.  We tried to let you live your own life and make your own decisions, even if we thought you were making a mistake.  But this – this marriage of yours was just too much.  You deceived us and lied to us – how do I know that you aren't going to sit here and tell me more lies?"

            Jindra looked away, her voice small and sad sounding.  "Because I can't – it hurts too much."  Swallowing, she looked back at her mother.  "I don't want any more secrets or lies between us, Mother.  I don't want us to keep hurting each other – I don't want to fight with you anymore."

            She reached out and took Doreena's hand, "I'm sorry – so sorry . . . I didn't mean for everything to turn out like this.  I'm not sorry that I married Folken – because I love him so much.  But I am sorry for how I did it – for deceiving you and lying to you.  I know I hurt you and Father . . . I never wanted to do that – that was the last thing that I wanted."  She swallowed the lump that she felt in her throat, "I want us to be like we were before – I don't want us to be separated by secrets and lies anymore."  She sniffed back tears as she looked at her mother's face.  "I hate living like this."

            Doreena squeezed her daughter's hand, "I'm sorry too Jindra.  We've all made mistakes here . . . and I want us to be close again – for us to trust one another again."  Pulling her hand away, she brushed the hair from Jindra's face and tucked it behind her ear.  "So, why don't we start now?  What did you want to talk to me about?"

            The younger woman dropped her eyes, "I-I . . . Folken and I . . . we . . ."

            Doreena had a sinking feeling that she knew what her daughter was going to say, so she finished for her.  "You're here to tell me that you and Lacour are leaving, aren't you?"

            Jindra's eyes snapped back up to her mother's face, "H-H-How did you know that?"

            "There are only two things that would be important enough for you to tell me of now – and at the moment, I don't even want to think about the other one."  Jindra colored at Doreena's implied words.  "Besides, I know it's the only thing you can do – they won't ever allow the two of you to remain here."  She knew who her mother meant by they.  "So, where are you planning to go?"

            "Palas," Jindra whispered.

            "I should have guessed . . . to Bethanne's no doubt."

            The younger woman barely nodded her head.  "Probably . . . at least until we can get ourselves settled into a place of our own."

            "I see . . . and when are you leaving?"

            "In about a week . . . we have reservations on an Egzardian trader."

            Doreena gave her daughter a puzzled look.  "Egzardian . . . why didn't you write to your grandfather?  He would have sent a ship here for you if you had asked him.  Why waste money if you don't need to."

            "I-I didn't – I didn't want you to find out."  Jindra answered softly.  "Plus I didn't think he or Uncle Arturo were likely to help us if they found out the truth."  Doreena arched her brow, but remained silent.

            "Why . . . why are you being like this Mother?"  The younger woman asked.

            "Like what?"

            "So . . . so calm, I guess."

            Doreena sighed, "Would you rather I sat here ranting and raving?  I don't know about you, but I think I've had about enough of that as I can stand."  She reached out and took her daughter's hand.  "Gods know this isn't what I wanted for you Jindra, but what's done is done.  Either I learn to live with it and try to accept it, or I can let it stay between us and lose you in the process.  I'd rather know where you were and hope that you were happy, instead of being worried that you were hungry and homeless somewhere."

            Jindra squeezed her mother's hand and then released it.  Doreena gave her a small smile, "So, do you need anything?  Money . . . clothing . . .?"

            "Y-You . . . you want to help us?"  The young woman looked at her mother with wide eyes.

            "What – did you think I would turn you out in the street with nothing?  You are my daughter, Jindra – my only daughter -- and though you might not have married in the way that I had wished you too; still, I want to do everything that I can to help you.  I know there must be something that you need – things to furnish a home . . . money . . . clothing . . ."

            "I don't need any clothes, Mother – really; what I have is fine."

            "Nonsense – you can't go traipsing around Palas in trousers, Jindra; it's quite different there then it is here.  The Vardas' already have a reputation for being eccentric, and I won't have my daughter adding to that."

            I'm married to a man with a metal arm; Jindra thought.  How much more eccentric can you get?  Almost laughing aloud, she pushed the thought out of her mind as she protested once more.  "Really Mother – I think what I have will be quite adequate.  I promise I won't embarrass the family."

            Doreena waved a dismissive hand, "If you're going to be the mistress of a house, then you should dress like one.  Besides, it's been ages since you've had anything new; and there are a lot of other things that the two of you will need to start up your household." 

            The two of us – our household; she's actually starting to think of Folken and I as a couple.  Jindra smiled to herself at the thought.  I knew this would all work out – I knew that they'd come around.

            Rising from the sofa, Doreena went over to the small secretary against the wall.  Sitting down, she pulled out a piece of blank paper and opened the inkwell. "We'll make a list of basic things and then work from there."  Dipping a quill, she started.

            As her mother wrote, another thought struck Jindra.  "What about Father – what are we going to do about him?"

            The older woman looked up from her writing, "Don't worry about that, Jindra.  I have no intention of keeping this from him, but I think it would be best if we wait a day or so and let him cool down a bit.  I swear he's been so impossible – why do you think I've been hiding out in here?  I don't know whether to kick him in the seat of his pants or kick him out the door.  He's still so worked up from yesterday . . . why don't we wait until tomorrow morning and then see how he is?  Besides, I'll need to ask him for some money so that we can get you properly outfitted and see that you have most of what you'll need before you go."

            Rising from her seat on the sofa, Jindra joined her mother.  "Thank you," she hugged her mother tightly.  "I love you."

            Doreena returned her daughter's embrace, "I love you too – you stubborn, impossible child." 

            Jindra impulsively kissed her mother's cheek, "Father always said I was just like you."  The two women smiled at one another as they pulled apart.

            Leaning over her mother's shoulder as Doreena wrote out her list, the two spent the rest of the afternoon making plans and deciding on their impending purchases. 

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            Folken Lacour laid back against the pillow of his bed, his left arm behind his head.  Sighing, he closed his eyes as he gave into the fatigue that had started to fall over him.  Jindra's letter was still lying on the bed next to him and as he thought once again about what she had written his eyes slowly opened and he glanced down at the ivory-colored page.  She had addressed the outer envelope to Marco and the dark-haired man had delivered it to him just a short time ago.

            Dearest Folken,

            I know you aren't going to like this, but I hope that you'll understand why I had to do it.  Marco has probably told you by now that I said I would meet you at the inn the day after tomorrow.  But once I tell you what's happened you'll see why we don't need to hide now.

             I told my mother about our plans to leave for Palas.  I know you didn't want me to, but please try to understand that I had to do it.  She was a little upset, but in a way I think she expected it – so it really wasn't that much of a surprise.  Although she still isn't happy about our marriage (or our leaving), she's at least trying to accept it.  We had a really long talk about everything and she's offered to give us some money and whatever else we might need when we leave. 

            Please don't be too mad at me – but I just couldn't hide it any longer.  Maybe if it were your parents you would understand . . . I've hurt them both so much already, and I can't leave here having all those bad feelings between us.  I love you and I want to be with you, but I love my parents too and I don't want to hurt them anymore.

            You probably won't believe this either, but she also wants to meet with you (and me) before we go.  I think she wants to try starting over – and maybe even have my father there as well.  I know you're sitting there shaking your head no, but I think that we should at least try.  Maybe if we make an effort, my father might come around a little.  My mother seems to be willing to intercede with him on our behalf and I don't think that she wants to see our marriage end in a divorce (although I'm sure it's due more to the scandal than anything else, but I'll try to think positively).

            Please let me know what you decide – and if you don't want to see my parents again, I'll understand.  But I hope that you will at least think about it.  You are a member of our family now and it's only right that my parents should acknowledge that fact (whether they like you or not).  Please don't be upset with me, I really think this is for the best – for all of us. 

            Even if you decide not to see them, at least meet me – I miss you.  I miss your kisses and the feel of your arms around me.  I can't wait until we get to Palas and then we'll never be apart.  I love you.

            All my love,

            Jindra (your adoring wife)

P.S.  I couldn't resist adding that last part – because you know it's true!

            Despite her plea, Folken had felt his anger growing as he had first read the letter.  But when he got to the part about her mother and her offer to help them leave Zaibach, he felt a bit of it start to drain away.  He couldn't believe that Doreena would be willing to help them, let alone try accepting their marriage.  His first and only meeting with his wife's mother had not gone well and his previous encounters with her father had been complete disasters as well.  A few days ago she was crying in my arms over their reaction and now her mother wants to help us?  Jin was so certain that they'd come around . . . I guess she was right.  Well with her mother anyway – Erich isn't going to be as easy.  Meet her parents . . . I think I'd rather be tossed out of a floating fortress at a few hundred feet.  Still . . . if they really are trying to make an effort . . .?

            The young man sighed again; I think that girl is trying to drive me insane – why does she do these things?  Folken looked up at the ceiling, his eyes fixed on a crack in the plaster.  If I didn't love her so much I think I'd strangle her.  A small smile played across his lips as he closed his eyes once again.  I can't wait until we get to Palas – no tower, no sorcerers, no parents . . . I swear it will be like heaven.  Folken let his mind drift as he imagined what his new life in Palas would be like.  As sleep slowly stole over him, he started to dream:  the two of them making love in a huge pillow-strewn bed while warm sunlight poured over them through a set of large open windows.

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            Anton Lefebvre looked at the man across from him, the hatred that he felt carefully masked behind his dark blue eyes.  A few more days and this damnable place will be behind me . . . this long nightmare will finally be over.

            The young man pulled his attention back towards the man as he finished speaking.  "So . . . any questions, Sergeant?"

            Lefebvre shook his head, "No – although you are sure that Dimetra will bring Lacour there?"

            The man waved his hand in a dismissive gesture and made a face, "Lacour will be there, don't worry.  Dear little Marco wouldn't dare to defy me – he knows what will happen to him if he even so much as thinks about it.  Just make sure that you are there and in position when they arrive.  Everything hinges on Lacour seeing you."

            "Don't worry – I'll be there with bells on.  To finally see that freak get his comeuppance . . . it'll be worth standing in a hedgerow for a half hours time."

            "Well don't be too eager, Sergeant.  If he were to see you before Dimetra finishes his part in our little play than it will all have been for nothing."  The man gave Anton a smug look.  "Just think Lefebvre, a couple of more days and you'll have your heart's desire – the sweet attentions of the enchanting Miss Roh all for yourself."  The man chuckled to himself as he saw the flash in Anton's eyes at the mention of the young woman.

            "If she will have me, then yes;" Anton replied, his voice cold.

            "If . . . come now, Sergeant; all of your hard work and you leave the decision up to her?"  The man shook his head, "Sometimes I don't understand the younger generation, Lefebvre.  In my day, if you wanted the woman then you took her – and if you were foolish enough to wed her, well there were ways to remedy that situation too."

            He smiled once again, at the look on the young man's face.  Oh yes, my dear Anton . . . I can't wait to watch when all your chivalrous piety is ripped away and you find out the truth.  I don't know which I'll enjoy more – watching Lacour crumble when the little bitch betrays him; or seeing the reaction on your handsome face when you learn just how pure and innocent she really is.  By the gods, I haven't had this much pleasure in such a long time . . . mores the pity that it has to end.

            The man turned his attention back to Lefebvre as the young man spoke.  "Perhaps it is a good thing then that times have changed."

            "Perhaps Sergeant," he gave Anton another sly grin.  "But there are times when the old ways still are the best."  With that, he stood and went to the door.  "If anything changes, I'll let you know; otherwise, proceed as planned."  Without waiting for Lefebvre's reply, he opened the door and departed.

            Anton picked up the wine glass in front of him and drained its remaining contents in one swallow.  Don't worry; Jindra will take me – she won't have anyone else to turn to.  She will agree to be my wife and then we can put this godforsaken place behind us.  She will be mine.