Chapter 20 Don't Ask, Don't Tell

Usual disclaimer: Rhetta Starling's dialog is paraphrased from the OC, which is owned by Obsidian among others. As always, none of the characters are mine except an occasional NPC and a certain bear lovin' ranger.

"I always suspected Orlen was somethin' of a druid," Dee whispered to Elanee as they walked back from his barn. Thunder had managed to bolt out the barn door and jumped two fences to get to one of Orlen's mares. Orlen's sons ran for Dee and Casavir, but by the time they got back to his place Thunder had successfully ended his dalliance and was nuzzling the mare.

Casavir flushed with embarrassment and apologized profusely to Orlen. "I will of course pay for any injury done to your mare, sir."

Orlen only chuckled. "Nah, she's a sturdy girl, that one, and he's only doing what he's supposed to do. Might as well keep him out here for now though to save my barn door." He winked at Dee and added, "I take it this city boy doesn't know enough to ask for stud fees."

Dee introduced her companions to the assembled Harbormen as they seated her at one of the trestle tables. Daeghun was nowhere around, which didn't come as a surprise to most of the villagers. Thus Shandra and Casavir were seated on either side of her deflecting questions and nudging Dee to eat, not talk. But one bite of Granny Buckman's baked beans and Mrs. Lannon's mustard greens with bacon and Dee understood what 'tastes like home' meant and didn't have to be prompted again. She thought wistfully of the happier times when Rhetta Starling would have been here with her apple-cheese tarts that always used to win the blue ribbon at the Harvest Faire.

There was no sign of any of the Starlings to her dismay, so Dee excused herself as soon as she had eaten, left Cillian in Elanee's care, then strode alone to the Starling house. The Harbormen watched her in silence just until she was out of earshot, and then they turned on her companions, mainly Casavir, with questions about what really happened during her duel with Lorne.

Dee walked as determinedly up the path to the Starling home as she had that morning she went to the arena. Just as she was about to step on the porch, however, the door swung open and Rhetta stepped out, followed immediately by the two youngest Starlings, who ran around her and pounced on Dee, laughing and hugging her. Dee hugged them back and smiled tightly at Rhetta.

Rhetta pulled them off her and said, "You two run along to the Buckman barn with the others to get some supper then see if you can spend the night at the Marshes so I can talk to Dierdre in peace!"

One of them (like most of the villagers, Dee never had been able tell the twins apart) whined, "Aww Ma, that's no fun! We want to see Dee!" The other retorted, "Shut up, dummy! We've been tryin' to get Ma to let us out to see the horned lady and Dee's bear all afternoon, remember?!" He stuck out his tongue for emphasis, and the first punched him in the arm in reply as they scampered off.

Dee called after them, "Oi! You two stay away from Cillian―he's a bear, not a puppy!" She glanced hopefully past Rhetta but didn't see any sign of Bevil through the open door. Her heart sank, and she bit her lip and steeled herself not to break down. She sighed, "Rhetta, I'm so sorry. If there had been any other way..."

Rhetta took her hand and said, "Hush now. Come, let's talk inside." Dee wiped her feet on the mat on the porch mindful of the Starlings' fine Calimshan carpets and Rhetta led her inside the house and shut the door behind them. "Sit down in the parlor. I was just making some tea, though from the look of your face, you could use something stronger. And you've grown so thin! Let me get you something to eat." It would be pointless to protest that she had just eaten, so Dee sat down in one of the over-sized, sturdy chairs in the parlor bought to accommodate Mr. Starling's weight that had seemed enormous when she was a girl.

The waterclock on the table next to Dee had struck the seventh hour when Rhetta returned carrying a tray laden with generous slices of apple tart and her best Lantanware teapot and cups (which actually had come from a factory in Waterdeep). When she was an gangly teen, Rhetta had taken it upon herself to teach Daeghun's awkward tomboy daughter how to conduct herself in polite society and drink tea like a lady. She set the tray on a side table along with a stoppered earthenware jug that contained her homemade elderberry cordial. Seeing the jug brought back memories of the time when they were twelve that Dee, Bevil and Aimee snuck one out of the cellar and shared it in the Starlings' barn, the kissing game that followed (Aimee's idea--Dee got her first kiss from Bevil, then Aimee took most of the rest), and of how sick they got afterwards. She couldn't even look at the sweet liquor without gagging the next winter when Daeghun tried to give her some for a cough. Rhetta poured a generous shot into each of their cups then filled the rest with tea. She smiled tightly and explained, "Bevil hasn't been able to drink it straight either since that time you made yourselves sick with it, but it's all I have in the house."

Dee blushed and took the offered cup and gulped it down. The tea was just the thing to cut the cloying sweetness of the cordial, and she relaxed a bit despite herself as she felt the tingling warmth spread through her body. She licked her lips in anticipation as Rhetta topped the tart slice with creamy honeyed goat cheese and handed a plate to her.

Rhetta broke the silence. "They say you're back from your travels, but not for good." She refilled Dee's cup with the cordial and tea blend and took a more ladylike sip of her own.

Dee nodded though she felt maddened by the ritual of making polite conversation, but she filled Rhetta in briefly on her new duties as she tossed a piece of tart crust to Bevil's dog Nasher, whose warm brown eyes implored her as his tail thumped against the chair. She chewed a bite and closed her eyes to better savor it and listened to Rhetta fill her in on the village gossip. After they had each dispensed with the formalities and had drunk another cup (and she waited as long as she could stand), Dee asked, "Where..I mean how's Bevil? I heard about that attack on him from Georg."

Rhetta frowned and looked towards his room. "He hasn't been himself since it happened, and he refuses to talk about it to anyone. He only goes out to work in the daylight or to militia practice. That's why the alarm went out when you rode up. Everyone's still a bit on edge."

Dee felt on the verge of tears and she gulped down another cup. Surely that alone, terrible as it must have been, was no reason for Bevil to avoid her. Was it because of Lorne? Could he be ashamed to face her because of what his brother had done? She dabbed at her eyes as Rhetta refilled their cups and said with her voice breaking, "Hope he comes out soon. I've been so lookin' forward to seein' him, and I don't know if...when I'll get back here."

"He's out, Dee. I don't know when he's coming back." Rhetta didn't have the heart to tell her the truth. She had announced Dee was coming up the walk and shook her head at Bevil's reply: slamming the back door as he sprinted outside. He was hiding in the barn too ashamed to face her, but not for the reason she and his mother assumed.

Dee fortified herself with another drink of liquid courage before she blurted out, "That Cain, he's an ass. What he said―it wasn't true! Lorne and I tore one another up pretty good, but he was alive when he yielded the field, and his people had a cleric at his side as they carried him off. I don't know where he is...they captured the Luskan ambassador, but he wasn't with her. When we retook Crossroads Keep from his master, we didn't find...him there amongst the Luskan prisoners." She caught herself before she said "his body" and shuddered at the near slip. "Sand, the mage who defended me, said his falchion bore an evil enchantment, so mayhap the blade cursed him and he'll come to his senses now 'tis gone." Dee didn't really believe this, but it felt good to offer his mother this bit of cold comfort.

Rhetta drank quietly and the silence deepened again. Finally, when Dee thought she would go mad if Rhetta didn't say or do something in reply, Rhetta set her cup on the tray and said, "You did what you had to, Dierdre. I don't doubt that you had no choice but to fight him. But I do wish there had been another way. I still find it hard to believe that Lorne was working for those Luskanites. He was always such a gentle boy."

Gentle? Dee blinked incredulously, remembering all the times he pulled her braids, twisting her arms and leaving the friction burns called 'snakebites,' his knuckles roughly rubbing her scalp as he held her in a headlock, pinching her budding breast once roughly. Her foster father saw the bruise when they were bathing in the river the next day, and that was the closest Dee had ever seen Daeghun come to fury as he demanded to know if Lorne had touched her anywhere else. However Dee remembered the boys receiving even worse treatment at Lorne's hands. Yeah, real gentle that one, and what's more, when the parents of his victims complained to Rhetta, he made sure Bevil paid for it later, so Bevil's friends learned to keep their mouths shut. The only one who ever kept Lorne in check was Cormick. She took another drink and said the only thing she could think of. "Why would he have turned against Neverwinter? I can't imagine his life was easy serving a master like Black Garius."

Rhetta took a deep quaff, no longer restraining herself to ladylike sips, before she replied. "He wrote to me after he left. He was bitter that he lost so many of his friends in the war, and his captain kept him from the front lines. He said Lorne wasn't skilled enough, but Lorne said he thought the man was jealous of him. He was strong and militia-trained. He would have outshone them all. But none of that matters now. I'll pray for him that he finds peace."

Dee said softly, I'll pray for that too, Rhetta."

They sat quietly finishing the tart. Dee could feel the effect of the cordial all the way to her toes, especially because she had refrained from strong drink since that last night with Bishop. Yet she didn't refuse when Rhetta filled their cups again. She had resigned herself to not seeing Bevil this time or possibly ever. She said absently as she was about to take her leave and flee to the comfort of her companions, "Your tart is delicious. Don't suppose you would give me the recipe?" Not that she could see herself cooking for a family any time soon. Maybe some day, if she lived long enough to have a family.

Rhetta blushed and grinned like a child despite her sadness at the complement to her cooking. Rhetta had always been house-proud and relished the fact that no one in West Harbor could match her tarts, and she had a wall of blue ribbons to prove it. She eventually stopped entering the Harvest Faire baking competition to give someone else a chance to win. "I'll write it out for you before you leave." She sighed and added, "You know Dierdre, I used to hope you and Bevil would get together and I could teach you all the cooking secrets I would've taught a daughter."

Dee met her eyes and said evenly, "Bevil had his heart set on Aimee from the time we were not much older than the twins, and never on me. But even if she hadn't returned his feelings..." She shrugged. "I'd begun to love him like a brother, and it would've been too weird."

Rhetta replied with a decidedly unladylike grunt. "Anyway, 'tis time you were on your way before we finish the jug, though I believe we've nearly done it already. I've got a tart in the kitchen you can take with you. I imagine you want to share it with one of those handsome men who rode in with you and couldn't seem to take their eyes off you." She grinned at the blush this provoked. "I thought so." She reached over and pushed Dee's hair back from her face. "It's odd that you cut it this way. Your mother bobbed it like that just before your second birthday, and Shayla had a fit! It was the only time I'd ever seen them quarrel. I suppose it's easier to take care of with the life you now lead, but let me tell you, men love to get their hands on a woman's hair."

Dee nearly dropped her cup. She sobbed, "Oh Rhetta!" and the tears that had threatened to burst forth all evening finally poured forth with a vengeance. Rhetta took the cup from her hand and set it safely on the table then pulled her onto the floor next to her and lay her head in her lap. She stroked Dee's hair as the story of the wild affair with Bishop tumbled out. She told as much about the passion as she could to a woman who was the closest thing she had ever had to a mother, then she told her about his irrational jealousy, the way he used to grab her by her braid and slap her and how that always led to coming to blows when she got sick of it and fought back. She sobbed, "That last night, he was a mad thing, Rhetta. I saw it in his eyes. He was cryin' and I knew he wouldn't stop until he finished me. I tried to get away but he grabbed me by it. I pulled out a knife and slashed through my braid to get away from him. I could just as easily have stuck it in his chest though, I was so desperate to get away!"

Rhetta continued stroking her hair and let her get it all out then said with an eerie calm, "Tell me you've ended it with him. Trust me on this, child. He'll only get worse if you marry him. That's how my Berne was."

Dee sat up and blew her nose loudly on one of Rhetta's good lace hankies then drained another cup, as did Rhetta. She remembered that Berne Starling had been a merchant who would appear with the seasons in a wagon filled with exotic things he had picked up in his travels and would leave just as suddenly as he arrived. Then he stopped coming back altogether. "He beat you too? I knew somethin' was wrong, but I was too young to understand what." She remembered Daeghun rarely left her at the Starlings when he was home unless he had to, and the whispers of other village women. Then once when she was about six Georg and Pitney Lannon knocked on the door late one night, and Daeghun followed them towards the Starling farm. Bevil's father was gone the next day. Bevil told her that his father would take a belt to them for the slightest or imagined offense, and she thought that explained some of Lorne's meanness. He fought back; Bevil learned to hide. She hadn't realized that he also beat his wife, but that explained Rhetta's frequent 'sickness' when he was home. "You're a beautiful woman, and you must have had many admirers in Neverwinter. Why would you be with a man who treated you like that?"

Rhetta's face was lined with regret. She said with a hushed voice, "They're never like that at first, Dierdre, though there were signs of his temper I was too inexperienced to read." She told Dee the story of herself as a young woman, in truth a girl, who met a tall, burly, handsome man (as big as Lorne, but with Bevil's good looks) at the Greengrass Faire. He was flush with coin to spend from his work guarding a merchant caravan from Waterdeep, and he let her show him the city. He first charmed her, then her mother, and he wanted to take her home to West Harbor. But her father refused to give his consent to her marriage to a common sell-sword. The night after he left she filled a bag with her best clothes and some jewelry given her by her mother and ran down to the docks where he had booked passage for her on a ship to Highcliff. He met her there and brought her to his family's farm in West Harbor.

Dee sat back and asked, "You eloped?" She took over the job of refilling their cups. Dee was astonished to say the least. Rhetta had always seemed so stable and well, matronly. She couldn't imagine her as a reckless young woman eloping to be with her love.

Rhetta leaned back into the comforting embrace of the chair and continued her tale. They were married the next Highsun by an itinerant priest of Ilmater who rode a circuit around the small villages too small to support a priest. She said wistfully, "But Berne hated being here once the novelty of showing off his things wore off. He never had the heart of a farmer, and he chafed at being trapped here in this stinking swamp village and was bored with the monotony of everyday life. Lorne came along that Hammer, and by the next Marpenoth Berne announced he had to go back on the road to support me and the squalling brat, as he called him. I was so terribly lonely while he was gone. If I hadn't had Lorne, I don't know what I would have done."

Dee said quietly, "I remember that he would be gone for a long time, more than a year sometimes. Bevil told me once he forgot what his pa looked like." Bevil had also confided to her during one of his father's visits that he was counting the days until he left again, but she kept that to herself.

Rhetta stared at the far wall then stood shakily and lit a lantern. "Come along with me to the cellar, Dierdre. We need another jug." They crept slowly down the steps, both feeling the effects of the drink. Rhetta hung up the lantern on a hook and pulled a jug down off a shelf. She opened a crock of pickles and offered one to Dee and took one herself. She told Dee how she knew nothing about farming, but she was a hard worker who could haul fifty pound sacks of flour and sugar to her father in his bakery and could cook and sew too. She fell in love with farm life, quickly making friends with the other women of the village. She pulled the cork from the neck of the jug and took a swig then passed it to Dee then plopped heavily on one of the steps, and Dee squatted on her haunches beside her on the earthen floor chewing the pickle as she listened thoughtfully .

She told her of his passionate emotions, tender and loving one minute and cold and raging like a Deepwinter storm the next. He'd show up with some trinket and beg her forgiveness once his anger passed, and he was skilled at persuading her that somehow she had provoked him. Dee shivered; that was uncomfortably familiar to her. By the time Bevil came along Berne had learned that the real coin was to be made in merchanting, buying and selling far south as Amn and as far east as Sembia. She cast a pensive glance at Dee. "I sometimes wondered why he bothered coming back when he would get into such a black mood after no time at all. It was like this house was nothing more than a storehouse for everything he accumulated in his travels. I think in his own way he loved me, but as one more pretty trinket he picked up." She took another quaff and passed the jug to Dee. I was sure he had other women, but something always led him back here to us―to me, rather. He never warmed to the boys no matter how hard they tried to win his love."

Dee gazed up the stairs. "You've had no word at all from him since that last time he was here? That was before the twins came along. They've never seen him."

Rhetta shook her head forcefully then swayed on the step. "No, but then I don't expect to." There was something so final about that statement. Dee raised her eyebrow and watched Rhetta as she stood up unsteadily and paced the room between baskets of produce stored for the winter. She paused looking like she was on the verge of speaking and stared at Dee, who could see the conflict written on her face. She came close and reached out and touched the symbol of Tyr Dee wore around her neck next to the symbol of Meilikki. "Dierdre, if I tell you something, will you swear not to speak a word of it to anyone, not even Bevil? Gods, especially not Bevil!"

Dee gaped at her. What Rhetta could possibly have to tell her to invoke such a promise? "Of course, I swear. Rhetta, what is it? You're scaring me."

Rhetta said sharply with a touch of desperation as she looked up into Dee's eyes, "Swear it by Tyr first, The Even-Handed, The Just God whose symbol you're wearing."

Dee shivered, feeling as if she was on the verge of terrible knowledge, but she had to go on just as she knew that Rhetta needed to unburden herself. She clasped the symbols around her neck , kissed them, and said, "I do swear it, in the name of Meilikki whom I serve, and I call on Tyr as witness that I will keep your confidence. And what's more, I swear by Kelemvor I'll hold your secret fast until I stand in His presence. Gods, Rhetta, what could be so terrible?" But even as she swore the oath she had already begun to figure it out.

Rhetta nodded, satisfied, and blinking back tears she continued. "That last time Berne came home...by then Lorne was nearly a man, taller than his father though he hadn't filled out yet. He always tried to protect me from his father's fits just as I had thrown myself over him and taken his blows when he was small. It seemed all he did was argue by then. Berne had been home for several months that time and found fault with everything I did―with the way I dressed, the way I wore my hair, the way I cooked, the way I kept house, and with the way I ran the farm even though I ran it well enough to afford to hire a few hands." She laughed bitterly. "Of course he was jealous of them too. One evening we were in the kitchen. I was cutting up a chicken he insisted I kill for his supper though I'd been sick all day. He growled, 'What's wrong with you?' and I confessed I thought I was with child again. He flew into a rage, screaming about how all I did was tie him down, how he didn't believe it was his, and he was slaving away to support someone else's bastards. He struck me hard and I fell back against the table. I don't recall how it happened. He lunged at me. I still had the knife in my hand, and then somehow the knife was sticking out of his chest. He pulled it out and blood bubbled out of the wound like a fountain. Can you believe he laughed at me! Then he said, 'Rhetta you stupid cow, this is my favorite shirt! I'll take it out of your hide!' He raised his hand and fell over dead." Rhetta wilted against the steps and sobbed quietly.

Dee gasped, "You killed him?" She sat beside her and was about to ask what they did with him as it would be difficult to hide something like that in a small village. But the comprehension grew, and she answered her own unspoken question. "You couldn't have buried him outside without takin' a chance on someone seeing, so..."

Rhetta took another drink then wiped her mouth on her sleeve and passed the jug to her. "Lorne...he ran in as I was standing over him dumbstruck. He must have heard his father shouting. He took one look then ran back and bellowed out the door, 'Bevil, Pa's gonna beat your ass!' I stared stupidly at him, and he said, 'Don't need little brother walkin' in, do we? Don't worry, Ma. I won't let you hang for that bastard.' That was enough to snap me out of my stupor. I ran and barred the doors while Lorne wrapped him in a couple of blankets and hauled him down here. He's yonder under those baskets of apples. He dug a hole while I scoured the blood from the floor and the table. There was so much blood, Dierdre!"

She slumped forward with her face in her hands and shook. Dee waited silently until she was ready to go on. "Lorne made me throw everything―the knife, the bloody rags, and even made me take off my dress and toss it into the hole, then I watched him fill it in. I became hysterical. He grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me hard and told me to pull myself together or he would hang with me. So I did, I swallowed the pain and fear and let my son take charge. Lorne thought of everything! His father had this cobalt blue silk cloak that you could see across the village, and Lorne put it on that night in case anyone might see him and rode off with his father's wagon. He said it was better if I didn't know what he did with it. He told me before he left to confide to my friends that Berne left me for another woman. The both of us were marked by it though. I was sick for a long time, and it wasn't just because of a difficult pregnancy. I sometimes thought Lorne left here because he couldn't bear to be in this house any longer. Sometimes I'd find him sitting here, just staring at the grave." She moaned, "Oh Dierdre, can the gods forgive me?"

Dee pulled her close and held her face in her hands so she could look into her eyes. "You've had to live with the guilt all these years, and it's robbed you of your son and your health. I'm no lawyer, but I did a bit of readin' of law for the trial. There was no intent to kill him, so I believe 'twas self-defense. I'm no priest either, but I've been touched by Tyr, and Rhetta, he's a loving, merciful god. I believe Tyr will forgive you if you're sincerely sorry. Come, let's ask Him." They knelt on the cellar floor and said a drunken but heartfelt prayer together.

Bevil had been watching Dee from the barn through the open-curtained front window, hating himself for his cowardice. He saw them leave the room, but she didn't come outside. What could they be doing? He nervously jumped at every sound and cursed himself for the folly of running outside to avoid Dee as he was now trapped here in the barn. He had his old hiding places in here though, and it was safer to stay here than to run back to the house in the dark. He reached up and pulled down a couple of old blankets stored on a shelf and shook out the dust and turned to bar the door. Then he spotted one of Dee's companions, the woman who gave the recruiting speech, coming towards the barn. He ducked behind a couple of empty barrels feeling like even more of a coward as the woman entered the barn. What was she doing here anyway? She looked around, looking like she was bored and turned, about to leave when he bumped a scythe hanging behind him and winced as it clattered against the wall.

Katriona spun at the noise. "Who's there?" She drew her long sword and demanded, "Show yourself now!" She felt foolish even as she said it and expected that she had interrupted a couple of kids having an innocent tussle in the hay.

Bevil instantly obeyed and stepped out with his hands raised, though he had the presence of mind to reply, "This is our barn, Miss. I should ask you what are you doing in here."

His directness caught her breath away. What was she doing here indeed? She hadn't set out to snoop around in some farmer's barn when she went for a walk. Perhaps it was the open door that caught her eye and the nostalgia for a way of life she hadn't lived for years that drew her through it. She flushed and grumbled as she sheathed her sword, "I was just walking off supper and thought I saw someone in here." She looked past him and insinuated, "Sorry if I interrupted anything."

Bevil blushed as what she implied sunk in and replied indignantly, "There was nothin' to interrupt. I'm surprised you're not with the rest of Dee's friends dancin' in the barn."

She smirked at him and chuckled softly. "I could ask you the same thing, Harborman. What are you doing alone out here? I thought I had met everyone in West Harbor, and I wouldn't have missed a chance to give my speech to a fine strapping lad such as yourself. I'm Katriona Helmdal, one of Captain Farlong's sergeants."

This provoked another blush and a wide grin. "Aye, I heard you. That was a fine speech, Sergeant Helmdal. I'm Bevil Starling." He shook her hand vigorously. "My ma needs me to help her with the farm, or I'd think about enlisting." He muttered as he looked at the floor, "But I'm too much of a coward to be a proper soldier anyway. Dee deserves better than the likes of me. Katriona, please don't tell Dee you saw me hiding here."

She replied coolly, "You can call yourself a coward and despise yourself forever, or you can face whatever it is you fear and overcome it, Bevil Starling." She recalled the name and realized he belonged to the family of the Luskan assassin that her captain fought. Poor lad, having to live with something like that. Too bad he hadn't enlisted. She looked at his broad shoulders and deep chest appreciatively and wondered what was in the water around here to grow them so big. And he was militia-trained too! He could be enlisted as another sergeant based on that fact alone. She mused that she certainly could get used to seeing him every day. "I better get back. I'll leave you to whatever it was you were doing in here, but think about what I said."

He watched her cross the village green and head back to the Buckman barn then shut the door and barred it and climbed up into the loft and rolled up in the blankets. He lay back and thought about what she said as he drifted off to sleep.

Bishop strutted out onto the porch, yawned, stretched, and scratched, and grimaced at the swamp stench that seemed to get worse at night. As he took a piss off the porch aiming for the widow's roses, he spotted Dee on the path in the distance. There was something in her walk―an almost imperceptible stagger―that betrayed her drunken vulnerability. He smiled cruelly as he observed that the damned bear wasn't with her either. His predatory instincts were fully aroused, his nostrils flared, and his impulse was to give chase, though he wasn't sure what he would if he caught her―fuck her or tear her throat out, or both, and it didn't particularly matter in which order.

He took a deep calming breath and reminded himself this wasn't the time or the place as Karnwyr looked up at him and whimpered. Just then the farm wench inside called his name, ready for another round of plowing. He grinned and turned towards the door. A sated predator rarely chased prey when he had a fresh kill; it wasn't efficient. It was satisfaction enough that she was alone, and he was beginning to believe he had ruined her for other men. Besides, why did he want to chase that skinny, bossy wench tonight when he had one in the house who so far would do anything he wanted, who had overflowing cups that were each more than a handful. He chuckled as he thought of burying his face between them and stepped back inside.

Casavir left the dance early much to the disappointment of many of the West Harbor maidens and matrons. He never had been good at conversation, and he was worse at dancing. After two clumsy attempts he gave up and walked outside where he took a seat on a stump along the path. He watched for her to leave the Starling's house but at a discreet distance, ready to offer her comfort if need be but not wanting to intrude. He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there waiting. Cillian eventually ambled over and chuffed at him then waited beside him quietly. Shandra came to see if there was any word then went to bed and left them to their lonely vigil.

The villagers were cleaning up the barn and beginning to drift off to their homes, and the local mage stopped and asked tersely if Dee had come out of the Starling home yet, his concern for the Starling woman apparent. They waited silently together, two men too repressed to speak the truth to the women they loved. The mage wandered off and left him alone again. Then the bear growled and Casavir saw the ranger step outside onto the porch of a house, naked as the day he was born, and he scowled in disgust as he saw him deliberately relieve himself on all the flowers below. Something caught the ranger's attention, and Casavir continued to watch him until he lost interest in whatever it was and went back inside. He looked back towards the Starling's house and realized to his chagrin that Dee had come out while he was busy watching Bishop.

Cillian had been watching Bishop too until he went back inside the den. He caught Dee's scent before he saw her and immediately ran to her side and nuzzled her, and she dropped to her knees and threw her arms around the bear. Casavir was feeling more than a bit foolish sitting there watching her, yet he couldn't bring himself to leave, and there was a slight shudder in her shoulders that tugged at his heart and made him want to stay. "Tyr help me, I am as bad as Bishop the way I shadow her," he muttered under his breath. Just then the bear looked at him and she tilted her head and peered in his direction. He flushed with shame and feeling like more of a fool, he stood and walked to her.

Dee stood, swaying slightly. Casavir could tell that she had been drinking heavily, and her red-rimmed eyes, which the torchlight and her spectacles only amplified, told him she had been crying. She greeted him with a lopsided grin and said softly, "Cill says you've been waiting with him for me. That's sweet of you, Cas. You two are so faithful. Come, walk me back to my father's house." He swallowed nervously as she linked her arm in his and leaned against him. They walked along in silence, which was unusual for her. She had a knack for conversation with just about anyone and could always find something to draw him out of his usual reticence, but she walked on as silently as if they were two ghosts passing in the night. He could read the signs well enough to tell that her talk with the Starling woman had left her deeply troubled. As they reached the bridge, he forced himself to say haltingly, "My lady...Dee. I don't wish to intrude on your reverie..."

She looked up at him and blinked as if she had forgotten he was there. "Cas? You're not intruding. You're never intrude as much as I wish you would, but you're sweet. I ever tell you that?" She blinked and turned staring into the water.

Cillian nudged him towards her then stood on the other side of her. He stared off at the lazy river and summoned up his courage. "You appear troubled. If you need to talk of what transpired with the Starlings..."

She bent her head back to look up at him and murmured, "Would that I could, Cas. I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you." She gave a half mad chuckle while he stared at her in shock. "And then I'd have to kill myself too, 'cause I couldn't live with myself. You're too sweet. Did I ever tell you that? Not enough I guess, but it needs to be said. Every day. But no, my dear, some things can't be told. I promised. Vowed, in fact. Shouldn't be told. Ever. Sorry, I'm kinda drunk."

He chuckled softly. "Ah yes, I noticed. Still, I swear I will hold whatever you tell me in the strictest confidence."

She reached up and patted his cheek, "I have no doubt of that, Cas, but I swore an oath to a whole houseful of gods, and I wouldn't bind you to an oath that would be hard to keep. I can tell you someday, mos' likely when we're waitin' in Kelemvor's queue. It'll pass the time. Yeah, that's the place. I think I'll be there soon enough, and I 'spect you'll be right beside me like you always are. What I really need from you you won't give me anyway."

He blinked indignantly. "Very well, my lady, but you are wrong; you only have to ask if you need anything."

She looked up at him through her lashes and replied, "Don't make me put that to the test, paladin. You know, you could learn somethin' from your horse."

He smiled and said, "What is it I could learn from Thunder? I admit I don't have the rapport that you have with your bear, but I'm working on it."

She poked him in the chest and said, "Yeah? Would you jump over two fences to get to me?" She put her arms around his neck. He was so tall, even to her, that she had to stretch slightly to kiss him softly on the lips. She pulled back to look at him staring back at her in shock, so she took his arms and put them on her waist, murmuring "Well if I leave it up to you, you won't do anythin' until it's too late. 'Tis your nature. Put your hands on me." She kissed him again and again with chaste, friendly kisses until she felt him return them and they became more than just friendly. His arms slid around her and he pulled her to him and kissed her gently for a few shining golden moments before he came to his senses and pulled away.

He held her out at arms' length and said firmly, "Dee, we must stop. You're not yourself, and I can't allow myself to take advantage of your condition."

She tried to pull him to her again and pouted. "So? I still know my own mind! Cas, I need you tonight. I need you to hold me." She collapsed against his chest, suddenly wracked by deep shuddering sobs.

He could do that much for her, and he said a silent prayer for her as well. He held her and let her cry, murmuring "There now, let it all out" as he caressed her back and kissed her softly on the top of her head.

She pulled away looking panicked. "Hells, I'm gonna be sick!" She leaned over the rail on the bridge and vomited into the water. He grimaced but came up beside her and grabbed her spectacles and held them in one hand while he rubbed her back with the other until the wracking heaves subsided. Once she was finished, she muttered "What was I thinkin' mixin' a bottle of Rhetta's cordial with her pickles, but I didn't feel I could refuse her."

He frowned in distaste at the disgusting combination as he handed her his water skin. "No my lady, I should think that would make anyone sick. Come along, let's get you to bed." He took her hand and led her across the bridge.

She took a deep quaff of the water and rinsed her mouth and said, "Yeah, promises. Bed sounds good. Could you do something for me though?"

He replied hesitantly, hopeful that her amorous mood hadn't abated, yet fearful at the same time. "If I am able, my lady. But let us speak of it in the morning when you are yourself."

She caressed his cheek and gazed into his eyes, cool and soothing as two mountain pools. "Don't call me 'my lady' if you don't mean it. If you can't hold me in your arms tonight, could you at least stay beside me and sing that hymn you were singing this morning to me until I fall asleep? I could listen to you singin' forever."

He blushed and smiled at her. "I would be honored."

Dee awoke to the sound of Brother Merring's strong tenor greeting Lathander with song down by the river. She sat up and grabbed her throbbing head and sunk back down in the bed. She slowly looked around the room. Casavir was asleep in the chair across the room rolled up in her old quilt, snoring softly, and Cillian was curled up next to him. She winced as she recalled her slutty behavior the night before. She sat up more slowly this time and pushed back the covers. She vaguely remembered casting off everything but her small clothes, and Casavir bore it all stoically as usual, waiting facing the wall across the room until she nestled under the covers then singing for her as he promised. "Hope Sand can make up some ale purgative," she thought as she stood and tiptoed across the room grabbing her laundry from her pack, shushing Cillian and opening and closing the door quietly so she wouldn't awaken Casavir. Grabbing a towel and some soap from the shelf, she went outside.

Cillian ambled along the bank looking for fish. She nodded to Brother Merring standing skyclad on the far bank with his arms upraised, offering his skin the blessing of Lathander's light. She stripped and stepped into the water. "Hells hells hells, that's cold!" she exclaimed and considered getting out. Instead she dove under the water, chiding herself for getting spoiled by city living. The only time they heated water to bathe when she was growing up was in the dead of winter. She rose up out of the water and started washing her clothes and was greeted by Daeghun as he climbed down the bank and joined her the river.

He dunked himself under the water then stood and shook out his hair and took the soap she offered him. "Good morning, daughter. I...was looking in the attic last evening, and I found a trunk with some of your mother's things that I had forgotten was up there. I left it for you in the hall. There isn't much left in it, but what's there is yours by rights. Most of her clothing Rhetta made over into garb for you when you were a child."

Dee grinned wryly, remembering vaguely some of the frilly silky garments she had as a child. That was where she probably got a taste for silk small clothes. "Thank you, father. I really appreciate it."

Elanee and Naloth came out of the house then and joined them in the river. Finishing his devotions, Brother Merring dove in for a quick dunk then climbed back up the bank and lay in the sun to dry. Dee caught herself looking at the thick mat of russet hair covering his body (though she grimaced at his hairy back) and had to stop herself from speculating on how hairy Casavir was. Sand stepped out of the house he had magicked himself, smirked at the sight of the gathering in the river, and slipped off his robe to join in. Dee caught herself looking sidelong at his lithe body too as she climbed up the bank and hung her laundry on rocks along the river, deciding she preferred the fur and hard muscles of a human.

Casavir stretched stiffly in the chair then sat up with a start as he realized Dee wasn't in her bed. He smoothed out his wrinkled tunic as he went downstairs, calling for her softly. The sound of melodic Elven speech outside caught his attention, and he opened the door to the sight of the local priest, Dee's father, Elanee, and Sand sitting on the river bank talking softly as they dried themselves and dressed. He averted his eyes from their nakedness and was greeted by the sight of Dee walking towards the house toweling off her hair. He flushed and gasped for air and tried to turn away but found himself rooted to the ground. Dee shook out her hair as she lowered the towel and saw him staring at her. She stared back at him for a moment then blushed scarlet and snatched up the towel to cover herself.

Sand leaned over to Elanee and whispered as he fastened his robe, "Care to wager how long it's going to be before the Captain comes to one of us in search of a prophylactic potion?"