Faolan found the Herald she was looking for sitting under a pine tree in a small grove near the center of the Companion's Field. Fao's first impression was that he looked fresh off the battlefield- not five months off. He was skinny and tired looking, with dark circles under his eyes. His Whites hung loosely on his body, and his hair was flat in a way that spoke of illness- as if it normally was springy and fresh. He was a tall person, with black hair cut a to a few inches. A hint of a beard covered his face. He sat partly hunched, with his arms laying at his sides. One leg was stretched out and the other was bent up. His chest rose and fell slowly, and though his eyes were open Faolan had the feeling he was either deep in conversation with his Companion, or day dreaming. His name was Morgan Derry.
As Faolan approached he came out of his daze, and looked over at Faolan. By his lack of surprise in expression, Fao suspected his Companion had explained who she was. He stared at her for a while and Faolan just stood there, standing a few feet away and waiting for him to speak first. Her wait was rewarded.
"So you're Faolan," he sighed heavily and looked away from her, "The Wolfsbane- or so they've been calling you. You look well."
"You don't," Faolan answered, judging correctly where the last comment had come from, her voice soft as she moved a little closer. Her nose twitched- from this distance she could smell his unhealthiness.
"Yeah well," he laughed harshly, and it turned into a cough. When his lungs were clear he pulled himself up to sit a little straighter, and looked at Faolan again, "I suppose Genevieve has explained everything to your Companion."
"Raul tells me you were bitten five months ago," Faolan said, and kneeled down, letting her hand pick at the pine needles curiously.
"Seems like longer," he said, then looked at her curiously and said, "So… werewolves. You're one. The enemy is one. I'm one."
"No," Faolan shook her head, "I am a werewolf. Those whom you fight are werewolves. But you are not a werewolf. Not yet anyway."
Morgan Derry frowned at her then said, sounding sour, "And what is that supposed to mean?"
"It means you are a person who unwillingly dons the form of a wolf on the full moon," Faolan answered, "Not a werewolf."
"Wouldn't that be the technical definition?" Morgan inquired, and tried to straighten himself even more.
"To some," Faolan answered, "But not to me. Not to the people you've been fighting."
Morgan frowned at her some more, peering at her from dark eyes, then he said, "You think you're one of them. Huh. No wonder they pulled you out."
Faolan refrained herself from glaring at him, then said, "I left because I did something that was unforgivable- something that werewolves fight to prevent. I left of my own choice."
Morgan stared at her some more, then grunted and shrugged, and pulled himself up, using the tree for support. Faolan copied him, and straightened up herself. She'd known he was tall- just by looking at his leg and torso length while sitting, but his height was truly impressive when he stood. He must have been almost a foot and a half taller than Faolan.
"So," he said softly, staring down at her, "So you're supposed to help me with the change."
Faolan wasn't sure if his statement was a question or not, but she took it as one, and answered, "Yes. I'm not sure if I'll be able to completely, but I will help you. We have about seven hours until moonrise- but I'm sure you can feel that."
Morgan impulsively wrapped his arms around himself and glanced upwards, at the sky, then back to Faolan, and said lowly, "How do you change?"
"Easily," she grinned, and held out a hand, showing him the fur that was sprouting out over it and her grin broadened as she felt a rush of excitement for the upcoming full moon, at the wolf within in her striving to be free under the pull of the moon, and run beneath the stars.
Morgan jerked back reflexively at this, and so Faolan reversed it and put her hand back to normal and her expression back to seriousness- as Morgan was looking rather alarmed and suspicious. He put on a grouchy expression and looked away from her.
"Don't worry," she said, "I had trouble for the first several years of being a werewolf too. In fact, it wasn't until a few weeks ago that I gained what the werewolves call 'true control' over my Change."
"True control?" one of his eyebrow's twitched in a partial raise. He still sounded dubious- Fao had the feeling he was resigned to his fate and his opinion of werewolves.
"It's a long story," Faolan said, wondering if she should tell him now, or later- she'd never given anyone werewolf training. For that matter, she hadn't really done much training of anyone in anything in a very long time.
"Well, we have time," Morgan said with a shrug, turning around and taking a few steps deeper into the pine grove, then turning around and leaning against a tree.
"All right," Faolan shrugged, "Where ever you're comfortable…"
Morgan sat down right there, leaning against a different tree now. Faolan glanced over her shoulder and saw two white forms watching them from a distance and smiled slightly before turning back to Morgan. She sat down opposite him, folding her legs and relaxing, pulling together all she knew about the history of werewolves in her mind and reciting the long tale that Skylar had told her on the night of the full moon so many years ago.
When she finished it was almost an hour later, and Morgan had a very thoughtful look on his face. He looked as if he wasn't sure he wanted to believe it. He looked as if he wasn't sure he entirely understood it. Faolan sighed and dropped her head against the back of a tree, wishing for a glass of water after all that uninterrupted talking
"So that's it?" he asked, "We're the descendents of some Pelagirs monsters?"
Faolan picked up her head and frowned at him, so he shrugged and said, "Okay, so not monsters anymore." He shuddered, but it looked involuntary, like a sudden muscle twitch.
"Yeah, that's it," Faolan said softly, then tilted her head sideways and looked at Morgan as she reached out to him with her Empathy, testing him. He was in turmoil, as almost all Heralds were these days, and no where near as troubled as Raleigh had been, fifteen years in coma.
"So you lived with the uh… these werewolves for all of the eight years you've been spying for us?" Morgan asked, his eyes flicking up at hers.
"Yes," Faolan answered, not liking the way he asked the question, "Yes, I lived with them. That's what being a spy entails!"
"Last I heard it didn't involve becoming the enemy," he muttered in reply.
"I was one of them the day I was bitten!" Faolan hissed back at him, "And you're one of them now too."
"Yeah well I haven't killed any Heralds, now have I?" Morgan retorted and Faolan flared up in a mixture of anger and guilt- but when she looked at Morgan she saw by his expression that he immediately regretted saying that and she calmed down.
"Listen"- she started, but Morgan stopped her.
"Why did you kill that Herald?" Morgan asked, "You came back and you're still a Herald, so you mustn't have truly turned your cloak. You speak of true control, and of the history of werewolves… You screwed up- so why are they having you teach me? I'm not trying to blame you for anything, Faolan, that isn't my job- but what I want to know is, can you truly help me?"
Faolan punched the pine littered ground with a fist and let some loose strands of hair hang over her face as she tried to determine whether or not Morgan was an asshole, or just tired and pissed and ready for answers and an end to the war.
"Yes I can help you," she finally spat out between gritted teeth, leveling a glare at him, "But that's it. I'll give you any answers, Morgan but for a lot- there aren't any answers. Nor… nor can I get you true control. You'll probably have to go back to war for that."
To her surprise, Morgan laughed, a sharp, ironic laugh and he said, "So that's how it's going to be. The werewolves will fight us for their true control, and now that we're becoming werewolves too, we'll fight them for our true control. And thus the war will continue, perpetuated by nothing more than our own selfishness…"
Faolan heard him trail off and new what was left unfinished. Better to kill yourself, she thought bitterly, Better to die then live in pain and live where you can hurt others. And for a moment she believed that herself and thought Morgan had it right- that they both ought to die. Then she remembered Raul, and Raleigh, and Rathmir, and knew she had things to live for. So did Morgan.
"No," Faolan answered, "It won't end up like that. We'll find another way…"
"What?" he asked, "To true control? You'd think the werewolves would have found another way, if there was one. I'm not even sure I believe in true control."
"You'll believe in it," Faolan informed him, "Or you'll die."
"You have true control?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her, "But you only got it recently- and I'm going to guess you didn't get it out fighting Heralds though…"
His eyes were shrewd and Faolan realized he'd picked it up from what she'd said early, by stringing bits and pieces together and she sighed, the nodded, "Yes. That's why I left."
"Ah," he said, shifting his position around a bit, then added, "It's terrifying. Fighting on the front, against an enemy you can't even see. Genevieve was our best scout- she could sense them before anyone else. I remember feeling her body tense up and knowing that meant that there were wolves around us. Knowing that tonight could be the night I die, be the night I feel those teeth tear into my throat… And in the end they didn't kill me. Just set me in store for eternal suffering."
"It is terrible," Faolan said vehemently, "Just as terrible and terrifying on the other side, Morgan. And it's got to end!"
"Somehow I think that will never happen," Morgan said, "It's gone on for sixteen years… sixteen years… and still there is no clear winner."
Faolan said and punched the dirt again, less hard this time, and muttered, "Well it can't keep going."
"This isn't taking us anywhere," Morgan sighed and looked off through the trees, "Let's get down to it- you're here to help me with the Change so I can leave my room at night without fear of ripping someone's throat out myself."
"All right," Faolan said, and looked at him, "The first step is recognizing that part of you is now a wolf. Accepting that part of you. Realizing that isn't a separate entity, that it is you- all the emotion, both evil and pure, that pour out of you while in wolf form. Strong emotion and the change go hand in hand."
Morgan stared at her then looked away with a frown, then, after a moment, said, "I guess this isn't going to be like Gift training."
"Not at all," Faolan answered grimly, "And it's going to be a long, long process. It'll still be a while before you can come out in wolf form- but hopefully you'll learn quicker than I did."
"How long it'd take you?"
"I wasn't in a populated area… but it was a year after Raul Chose me that she deemed me safe enough to bring to Haven, to give you an idea," Faolan explained.
"Ah," Morgan said, his eyes growing dark. Faolan felt for him- he'd only been a werewolf five months, on that scale, a year was a millennia, and a thousand Changes.
"You'll make it, though," Faolan said, "Everyone does- and you're a Herald, so that gives you a head start."
"I can't wait," Morgan said dryly, but then he smiled at Faolan, and it made him look so much more energized that Faolan smiled back.
"Well, let's begin then," Faolan suggested.
Morgan nodded, "All right."
A/N: So that's our new friend Morgan! Thank you for reading this chapter and extra thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter!! Also- any more guesses about that chapter title? Thrice for Love? And I did a little more research about the wall of Herald names and I think I have it figured out now. Thanks to those who helped!
M3m0rii- Yup. Story isn't over yet. Another couple of chapters... eight maybe?
GinaStar- Yeah... I always thought it was a little too happy happy that all the Heralds that end up lifebonded in her books also end up stationed in Haven so they can be with their love. I don't think Faolan and Raleigh's relationship is going to be like that- but I haven't written that yet so who knows- maybe I'll change my mind!
ginalee- Hee hee... and only I know the end to this story... that's what's fun about being a writer. Well StormyPhoenix knows because I told her- she's my sister, BTW and I dump all my story thoughts onto her for detail poking before I write them down.
sparkyCSI- Wow! One day! That must have taken a while! Last night I reread a Harry Potter fanfiction my sister and I are writing and it took a few hours- then we wrote another chapter... If any of you are HP fans too you should check it out once we put it up on it'll either be called A Twisted Past or some other cheesy romance title...
LightningStorms- Lol. Angst is fun.