Disclaimer: Valdemar & concepts belong to Mercedes Lackey, and this story belongs to Senashenta (aka Me. lol.)
Original Characters: Heraldic-Trainee Marin Correy & Companion Amory, Heraldic-Trainee Sumitra "Sumi" Enryck & Companion Dawnwen "Dawn", Herald Tarak Williamsen & Companion Angeni, Heraldic-Trainee Kalonice "Loni" Shilling & Companion Canist, Herald Junas Fingall & Companion Vyvien, Herald-Weapons Mistress Celena Rannalier & Companion Misora, Healer-Herald Emmie Angilas & Companion Idonte, Healer Astral, Bard Gharod, Healer-Trainee Nary, Bardic-Trainee Ruanna...
Notes: I welcome thee to the angst-fest that is my Christmas ML fic for 2003! *waves arms* This is Part One, and Part Two will be released—on Christmas Eve! (Hopefully!) Hah. Normally I only do One-Shots for holiday fics, but this one just... became... a two-part-er. ^_~ lol
Midwinter Mirage
Part One: Fire On The Air
Midwinter was coming, and Marin was looking forward to getting away from the Collegium and visiting her friends and family back in Rosewood—and, even more so, she was looking forward to introducing everyone to Amory.
:And I look forward to meeting them.: The Companion told her warmly.
:You are going to love them all.: She replied, :and they'll all think you're gorgeous, just like everyone else does.:
They had never had the chance to see him when she was Chosen; she'd been in Haven visiting her aunt and uncle when Amory came for her, and so her parents had simply received a rather unexpected notice, scribed in gold and blue and bearing the Queen's mark, that the only daughter of the Correy family had been whisked off to become a Herald.
It had been nearly four years since then, but because Rosewood was so far away from Haven they hadn't even had a chance to visit—and Marin herself had been so busy with classes and the rest of her new life that she hadn't had the time to go see them. She felt guilty about that, actually...
:But it couldn't be helped.: Amory reminded her, :you were more than busy with your studies, and—Tarak—that you just didn't have the time to go. It's a good fortnight's ride from here to Rosewood, you know.:
:I know. I'm glad they gave me permission to take extra time off this Midwinter—I really do miss my family. Even my brothers, believe it or not—and I never thought I'd say that, you know. I think you'll like them, Amory, I really do... I can't wait to introduce you!:
And it was then when the second Voice invaded her mind with; :ah, and I'm nothing more than pigeon pie, I suppose?:
She had to quell the giggle that rose in her throat as she responded. :Well of course I'm looking forward to introducing them to you, too!:
:Poor Herald Tarak, taking second place to a Talking Horse...:
:Just don't let Angeni hear you say that.:
Amory chuckled, but didn't say anything—he always enjoyed the banter between his Chosen and her long-time love interest.
Herald Tarak was two years her senior, and had already graduated to his Whites, while Marin still had another year of study before receiving hers... and he was nearly finished with his Intern-Circuit as they spoke, with only a few days of riding left before he and his mentor arrived back in Haven once more.
Everyone swore it had been Love At First Sight for the two of them. Though not Lifebonded, they had been next thing to inseparable since they met during Marin's first year as a Trainee—while Tarak was in his fourth.
Even their Companions got along well—were close to being best friends, in fact, though they tended to shy away from talk about romantic interests between them; perhaps because they didn't think of each other in that regard, and perhaps because they were just embarrassed at the mention of it. For her part, Marin didn't particularly care, and thusly had never asked Amory about it, though she had her suspicions.
:Where are you now? You can't be busy or you wouldn't have the time to talk.:
Tarak sent a mental shrug, :just the other side of Restinn—we're actually about to stop for the night.:
:It's not even dark yet.:
:Hm.: He agreed vaguely, :but Vyvien twisted her ankle a few leagues back and Junas wants to give her some extra time before we set out again tomorrow morning--: sensing the question before she could ask it, he added; :—she just caught her hoof on a stone. It's nothing serious, but Junas says she'd like a bit of a rest.:
:Tell her I hope she feels better.:
:I will... and aren't you in class right now?:
Marin layered her next Sending with innocence. :Maybe?:
:Pay attention or you'll never get your Whites.:
:Yes, Father.:
He laughed in response, mindvoice yellow and tasting of apples, and vanished from her thoughts as quickly as he had appeared.
I really am excited about this Midwinter...
Sighing contentedly, Marin leaned back in her seat, keeping her attention semi-focused on the lecture that Bard Gharod was giving—about the finite nature of Court politics, or something just as dry and uninteresting. She was too happy to care much about courtier blather, and chances were she could get the gist of it from Sumitra, anyway. The girl simply adored anything political, much to her year-mates disgust.
Marin supposed it was Sumi's upbringing that made her obsess over anything Court-related; the slightly younger girl had been raised in the Courts of Stormhaven, the Capital city of Taymyrr—until she was fifteen, when Dawnwen finally arrived to spirit her away. Having lived the life of a courtier herself, she already knew the ins and outs of it—but that, of course, was Taymyrr politics. Learning Valdemarian politics was just one of many opportunities she found once she arrived in Haven...
:Gharod is bright, you know.: Amory commented, :if you keep daydreaming, he's going to make you run laps or something equally unpleasant.:
:He's not like Weapons Mistress Celena.: She replied.
Ah, the Weapons Mistress—who, contrary to what her name would suggest, was not calm, collected, kind and serene. Instead, she sported a temper to reckon with, a short fuse on top of that, and a kind of sarcastic-ironic-cruel streak that no one liked to think about.
Not that any of that stopped the brainless courtier suitors from knocking on the salle door at every chance they got—because a fact that no one could dispute was that Weapons Mistress Celena was beautiful. Between her raven black hair, snapping green eyes, and slim, strong fighters body, she had every suitable male within ten leagues of the Collegium trailing at her heels. Not to mention that she was about as highborn as one could get without actually being royalty—and she had absolutely no interest in settling down.
The main problem lay in the definition of the word "suitable", Marin supposed.
Politically speaking, a marriage between the Rannalier family's eldest daughter and any one of the men who came tapping at her door would have been sound—but Herald Celena just wasn't interested—in marriage in general, but particularly in men...
If what I've heard is true, she and Herald Emmie are—involved.
:Don't go spreading that around, Chosen. They like their privacy.:
Some good advice, even if it came from Amory snooping around in her thoughts, as Weapons Mistress Celena was likely to have kittens if she ever found out someone was spreading rumors about her. And Healer-Herald Emmie would either die of embarrassment or spend the rest of her life hiding in the Grove alongside her Companion, who was as shy and sensitive as his Chosen.
:Well, I wouldn't want to subject Herald Emmie to that kind of humiliation.: Marin giggled, :so I'll keep my trap shut, okay?:
:G-o-o-o-o-o-d Chosen. I knew I kept you around for a reaso—:
"Marin, if you don't mind, could you tell Amory to pipe down, and pay attention to the lesson?"
She must have jumped two feet into the air from her seat, and knocked all of her books onto the floor in her surprise. The class tittered, and Sumi looked at her as if she had sprouted a tail of some kind. Amory humphed in the back of her head, demanding; :why is he blaming me?:
She ignored him in favor of scooping her books off the floor and placating Bard Gharod, who was regarding her with amusement and a sardonically raised eyebrow. "Sorry, he was just telling me that—uh—Herald Tarak is going to be late getting back to haven because—see—Junas' Vyvien twisted her ankle—or something—and—"
"—and your love life is far more interesting than this class." Gharod shook his head with a stifled grin that held more than a little understanding, and waved a hand in both a dismissing and exasperated manner. "Younglings!"
~*~*~*~*~
"Honestly, Marin!" Sumi exclaimed in flawless Valdemarian—a talent she was infinitely proud of, given her foreign upbringing, "how could you want to sleep through something so interesting?"
"It's only interesting to you, Sumi." Kalonice reminded the other girl.
"Loni's right." Marin added, then; "and I wasn't sleeping."
"Whatever," the brown-haired girl waved a hand vaguely. "How's Tarak doing?"
She graced Sumi with a flat Look. "Who says I was talking to him?"
"Dawn'." Sumi replied smoothly, "and in case you're wanting to know, she says Amory told her."
:Amory...:
Innocent feeling. :What?:
Marin sighed, and Loni giggled. "I hate to tell you this, Marin, but you're always talking to Herald Tarak."
"It still seems strange to be calling him that." Sumi mused, as Marin tried to decide who she wanted to glare at more. "It feels like only yesterday that he was still wearing the same Grays as the rest of us, doesn't it?"
"Yeah." Loni shook her white-blonde hair out of her eyes, and then looked toward the sky for a moment, shielding her eyes against the sun with one hand. "Only a little while longer and we'll be Heralds, too, you know."
"And that's even stranger," Sumi agreed.
They all lapsed into silence.
Sumi and Loni were right, Marin decided—how odd it would feel to be wearing White instead of Gray. She was almost uncomfortably with the idea. I know it's what I've been striving for all this time, but...
:It's a big step.: Amory seemed to shrug, :it's natural to be a bit nervous... but you have a year until you graduate to Whites, anyway. And a year of Interning before you can even be called a Full Herald.:
Marin sent a wordless pulse of agreement back at him as she and her friends continued to walk, albeit a bit slowly, toward their next class. They were taking the long way around from Bardic, where their class with Bard Gharod was held, to Healers—their destination being Field Healing with Healer Astral.
But it was such a nice day outside...
And none of them were particularly fond of their Healing class, anyway. It wasn't that they didn't get along with Healer Astral—in fact, he was one of the nicer of their Teachers. It was just that none of them had taken well to the sound of setting broken bones, resettling disjoined shoulders, sewing up gushing wounds and other things of the like.
They had also taken Field Healing in their first year at the Collegia... but then, and for the next three years, they had been confined to working with animals, and dealing with relatively minor injuries. Now that they were in their final year, though, they had graduated to human beings, and some of the things they'd seen since then...
Well, to put it simply, it made them sick. Literally.
:But none of you have any doubts about the seriousness of border disputes or wars, now.: Amory pointed out.
Marin had to stifle a grimace. :I could still do without the gore, Amory.:
:We all could, Chosen.:
Touché...
:But if you don't hurry up, you'll be late and Astral will be forced to chase you around with a big, pointy, sharp stick.:
:That would be a sword, Oh Wise One.:
:Swords are made of metal.: Amory chuckled, :besides, I'm told that your lesson for today is strictly in-classroom. No sewing up bleeding farmers or setting bones today! That should make you happy.:
"I can just feel joy overtaking me." Marin muttered sarcastically.
Sumi and Loni blinked at her. "Um... what?"
"Nothing." She waved away their curious looks with a vague hand gesture. "Amory was just saying that Healer Astral intends to keep us in class today, instead of trotting us around the Gushing Injuries wing of the Healers Sanctuary."
"Oh, good." Loni looked relieved—but then, she had always had the weakest stomach of the three of them. There had been more than a few times when she'd had to run from the lesson, lest the make a considerable mess on the normally sterile Healers floors. "I'm really not in the mood for blood today."
"You never are." Sumi joked.
"Neither are you." Came Loni's response.
While Sumi sported a much stronger hold on her gag reflex than Loni, even she had occasionally turned several shades of green during some of Healer Astral's lessons. Needless to say, they were all pleased with Amory's revelation.
Tarak's going to be back soon, it's absolutely gorgeous outside, and we don't have to deal with septic wounds or dislocated shoulders.
It was turning out to be a pretty good day.
~*~*~*~*~
Amory was wrong.
Very wrong.
And seemed to be snickering about it as well, damn his white rump.
"Hold the flesh closed, Marin, or Nary won't be able to stitch it as tightly as it needs to be."
She made a face, but followed Healer Astral's instructions—to the best of her ability. The wound that she and the Healer-Trainee called Nary were currently trying to sew closed was not co-operating. Not. At. All.
Gritting her teeth, Marin glared downward as she clamped her hands even tighter around the young man's leg—making him yelp in the process, despite the sedatives he'd been given—and cursed her Companion in every way she could think of. Across from her, Healer-Trainee Nary was concentrating so hard on his work that his tongue protruded from his mouth a bit.
He wasn't disturbed in the least by the job at hand.
Lucky bastard. He's used to this.
Her hands and arms up to her elbows were coated in blood, as were the front of her clothing. Luckily, though, Healer Astral kept spare clothes on hand for them to wear during classes such as that—and extra smocks on top of that. At least in that regard, Nary wasn't so fortunate—while he did rate a smock, he was forced to wear his actual uniforms underneath.
And he wasn't permitted to use his Gift, which was why they were having so much trouble. Or—he was—just not until they had managed to stitch the wound closed. Only then would Healer Astral allow him to help the tissue to mend a bit, and the blood to clot.
I am so going to do something to Amory after this.
She didn't know what, but definitely something.
In another section of the building, Sumi and Loni were dealing with a young girl who had been caught in a fire. The Healers had saved her life, but her burns needed a lot of attention, still. They were being taught how to dress said burns by another senior Healer, Mayav, who helped Healer Astral with his teaching duties on occasion.
And Marin was stuck in the Gushing Injuries ward with Healer Astral, a handful of Healer-Trainees, and one Bardic-Trainee, holding a man's leg together with her bare hands and wishing she could kick Amory's shins.
And tell aforementioned Man-With-Gory-Leg how stupid he was to pick a fight with a full-grown Mastiff and expect to win.
I mean honestly! What is wrong with people these days?
:They don't all have Companions to keep them on the right path.: Amory laughed.
She Glared at him—or, sent the Feeling of a glare.
"Right—Marin, just hold your fingers like that. And you, Nary, just follow the path of the wound: if you try to force it to conform to what you want, it won't Heal naturally, and there will be more scarring." Healer Astral, who was directing their bloody little performance, was giving orders left and right. "That tourniquet is slipping a bit—Ruanna, get in there and tighten it before it lets go completely."
The only Bardic-Trainee present, Ruanna, darted forward, tightened the tourniquet with a quick yank, secured the knot as best she could, and then hurried to get out of the way before she could get covered in blood the same as Marin and Nary.
Despite the shocking amount of blood, the man was lucky. Very lucky. The dog he'd tangled with had only mangled his leg—and Mastiffs, bred for hunting, were trained to go for the throat. In fact, because of their breeding, it was in their very genes.
"You're a very lucky man." Marin muttered under her breath, as Nary (thankfully) finished the last stitch and knotted the thread. She released his leg, ignoring the impulse to smack him upside the head for his idiocy.
"Alright, good." Healer Astral nodded approvingly, "you're done now, Marin—Nary, now you get to seal the wound and cork the bleeding, so to speak." He was almost smirking, much to Marin's annoyance. "Marin, you know where the bathing room is here... just go and get cleaned up. There's nothing you can do in regards to the actual Healing Gift, so you the rest of this case doesn't pertain to you."
In other words, she had about a quarter of a candlemark to go, get cleaned up, get changed, and then arrive back there for the rest of the lesson. She'd done it before—a lot of times before, actually.
"Yes, sir—" she nodded, then; "do you want me to come back here after, or just meet you in the classroom?"
"The classroom, actually. This is it for the rest of the on-site cases."
Good. Marin ducked out into the hallway, and headed for the Healers bathing room.
~*~*~*~*~
She didn't have much time to really enjoy her bath, but at least she was relatively clean again—and sitting in a sea of red water, which was actually a tad on the disgusting side. Making an exaggerated gagging noise, she pulled the plug from the bottom of it—to allow it to drain away—and climbed out.
I still smell like blood. How come Sumi and Loni get the Burn ward and I get the Gore ward?
:The luck of the draw, I suppose.: Her Companion told her, :you've only got about five minutes now, until you have to be back at class. Hurry up or you'll be late.:
:Healer Astral wouldn't be all that mad.:
:A big, sharp, pointy stick.: Amory reminded her.
:A sword.: She reminded him.
Still, she respected Healer Astral enough to try to be on time, if nothing else, so she picked up her pace a bit and scrubbed herself dry, wrapping another towel around her hair to soak some of the water out of it, and began to pull on her clothes—
—and suddenly—
—from nowhere—
A dark, solemn bell began to chime.
~*~*~*~*~
She knew.
She knew who the Death Bell was ringing for.
She knew—and she was frozen by the realization.
Tarak—and Angeni—
She was only half-dressed, but her hands didn't want to move anymore. Her feet were stuck in place. Her mind wasn't working—and at the same time, it was racing out of control. Amory—was strangely absent from her thoughts, and she didn't even notice.
Tarak—and Angeni—
They—
Tarak—
He—
Suddenly she found herself in flight.
One minute she was standing in the bathing room, wearing only her light under-shirt and breeches, and the next she had exploded out into the hallway and was racing barefoot down the corridor. The towel she had wrapped around her head came loose and fell off, landing with a damp noise on the ground. She began to trail water as it dripped from her hair.
She passed Sumi and Loni—and Healer Mayav, who emerged from a door to her right, but didn't stop when they called after her.
"Marin—"
The front doors to Healers burst open a moment later, and she flew from the building.
Her lungs were screaming, along with her mind. Silently. Painfully.
Marin reached Companion's Field seconds later—and found Amory waiting for her there.
"Amory—!" Without thinking, she grasped the top rail of the fence and scrambled over. It took only seconds: normally, she wouldn't have managed it so quickly, but the shrieking her own mind was doing spurred her into abnormally fast and graceful action. "Amory, the Bell—Herald Tarak—he—they aren't—"
:He and Angeni both.: Amory's Voice was subdued.
"No!" She was gasping now, her lungs demanding oxygen now that her frantic race had ended, and she shook her head. Denial was her only escape from reality—"no, you're wrong! The Bell—the Bell is wrong! You're both wrong!"
:The Bell is never wrong.: He said softly, :it only rings—when a Herald dies.:
She shook her head again, desperately, "I was just—I just talked to him! Just—it was only a candlemark ago! He's—they were fine! They were—they were coming home! They were coming home—and—they were—"
:Death... is not always expected, and the Shadow-Lover does not care about the concept of time.: Amory's eyes were a reflecting pool of grief, but he met her gaze squarely; :when He comes for someone...:
"No! No—he's—it was only—" her voice broke and tears flooded her eyes, spurred by the understanding that radiated down the Bond between them. Amory stepped forward, and his nose brushed against her cheek as her words trailed off into oblivion. "He was fine... I was talking to him... it was only a little while ago..."
The Death Bell continued to toll.
Part Two: "Spirits In The Wind" | Will be released on December 24th or 25th!