Placeholder All's Well That Ends Better

[Shiress]

Placeholder

[Milo Murrell]

The Title

1st of Spring 521AV

When an unstoppable force meets an immovable object.

[Milo Murrell]

All's Well That Ends Better

40th of Summer 521AV

The sun was at its zenith when he and Nolen had carried the outside table a bit further away from the cottage so everyone could enjoy lunch in the sun. The table had been set with Lorna’s bread rolls, salted butter, fresh fish from the market and two pitchers of boiled, then cooled spring water.

Milo was hot and hungry from having worked on the roof all morning with Nolen. They’d taken out old shingles, repaired several leakages and put new shingles back on while the sun beat down on them. Nolen had been his usual immodest self and done away with his shirt at the first drop of sweat while Milo stubbornly worked on. He’d conceded two buttons on his shirt, done away with his boots and rolled up his trousers to above the hollow of his knees to cool his legs.

While Zachiah and Nolen discussed the work that had been done on the roof, Milo gulped down a tumbler of cold water and nearly choked on it. Unfazed, he refilled and downed another cup full with loud, eager gulps until his thirst had been quenched. Nolen laughed at his antics while Lorna insisted he ought to be more careful but he paid them no mind.

“There’s another pitcher of water inside,” Lorna hinted gently when she noticed his disappointment at finding the current one empty.

Milo swung his legs over the bench, scooped up one of the bread rolls with one hand and carried the empty pitcher under his arm. He liked working with Nolen. The man wasn’t family, but he was nice and at times Milo was somehow reminded of home by him, though he couldn’t tell why exactly.

He cleaned his bare feet before stepping into the cool shade of the Underhill cottage and almost didn’t notice Shiress slinking away like a viper.

Almost. But no matter how quiet she was, like a leaf on a breeze, floating away from his grasp, the change in light and shadow hadn’t escaped him. Looking after Ian or making up some errand for herself were probably the two most common tactics she employed to avoid him and maybe she honestly thought he hadn’t noticed. He had half a mind to let her dream on, to not cause a fuss and simply enjoy his meal outside with Nolen instead. But when he’d put down the pitcher with a little more force than necessary, he could no longer restrain himself.

“Going somewhere?” Already he could imagine her answers. Ian needs to sleep, Ian needs to be fed, I need to take Ian outside but he didn’t give her a chance to reply or to slink away again. With his hands crossed over his chest, Milo looked over his shoulder and scowled at her. “You’re always avoiding me, don’t think I don’t notice.” He flared his nostrils, “Whenever I’m outside you’re inside, whenever I’m inside, you’re outside!”

Somewhere deep down he knew it wasn’t fair to explode at her like this, he knew he’d bottled it all up for far too long, but he simply couldn’t contain it any longer. He whirled around and forgot all about the pitcher he'd come to refill. His eyes narrowed to mere slits, “you never come to wish me good night or, or, or- tell me a story like Lorna does or Zachiah! Because they care and you don’t! I know you don’t want me here but I didn’t choose to be here either!”

He bit down hard on his lips and balled his fists until his knuckles turned white. “If you hate me, at least just tell me to my face instead of running away all the time."

[Shiress]

Shiress stood by the window inside the cottage that overlooked the small fenced front yard, body slightly turned to the side, gaze riveted on the perfection that was Nolen's bare upper body. The man was oblivious of Shiress's scrutiny, his attention captured by her father's wild gestures toward the roof of the cottage as he explained something.

Nolen was a mystery.

Even after nearly two seasons, Shiress knew little more about Nolen than she had when she first laid eyes on him; an ex-Sylirian Knight, wandering around from one odd job to the next. Asking around town or the Outpost hadn't disclosed any pertinent information. The man himself hadn't offered highlights into his past, either, and that itself caused Shiress to be a bit stingy with her trust, hypocrisy aside, of course.

Shiress's lack of response and hesitancy to the man's affections hadn't deterred his attempts at courting her in the least. Nolen had simply redirected his efforts to befriending her family, who, as it seemed, were more receptive to the man's charm than she was. Even still, something inside Shiress continued to whisper wary warnings that she couldn't ignore. Even when her body came alive with desire, any time Nolen came to within arm's reach of her, Shiress couldn't bring herself to cross that line.

There was just something-

The sound of footsteps jolted Shiress from her thoughts.

Scanning for the source, she spotted Milo crossing the small front porch, hand reaching for the cottage door. Spinning in place, she quickly headed for the small room off to the side, but not quick enough. The sound of something hitting the countertop with too much force made her jump, but it was Milo's sharp voice that stopped her in place. Shiress drew in a deep breath but didn't turn to face the boy.

"I think I heard Ian." she replied, voice low.

Milo's next words were spoken with such accusation and were so unlike the boy that she did turn to look at him, then, and the sight of him standing so tall, arms crossed over his chest, a deep, green eyed scowl in place as he looked sidelong at her, caused her heart to jump and tears spring to her eyes. Zane.

Gods, but Milo looked so much like his father at that moment that Shiress was momentarily struck mute by it.

"Don't be silly." she finally ground out, somewhat breathlessly. "I'm not...I don't..I don't avoid you like that!"

Milo spun around to face her fully, eyes narrowing to thin, angry slits, and Shiress very nearly took a step back, but the boy's angry words had shocked her to stillness. All she could do was gape, mouth hanging slightly open. Despite herself, she took a hesitant step toward Milo when he fell silent.

"I do want you here, Zane!" she yelled out, not catching her mistake.

"I do want you here." she repeated more calmly "and I do care. I truly do."

Closing the remaining distance, Shiress knelt before the boy, gazing up into such familiar emerald eyes that it made her heart hurt. Stretching out a hesitant hand, she ran her fingers through the boy's unruly hair, smoothing down the ends. A sad smile crossed Shiress's lips, and her eyes unfocused.

"I'm so sorry, Zane." she said, paused, blanched, eyes refocussing. "Milo, I mean." she shook her head "I'm sorry. It's just that you look so much like him I sometimes..."

Shiress let her arm fall away, hopefully before the boy noticed how badly she had begun to tremble. Lowering her face, she drew in a shaky breath, doing all she could to quell the erratic emotions that being near Milo called forth.

How could she explain what she was feeling? How could she explain that having Milo was a tease, a reminder, a walk back in time to when Zane and Shiress had been thirteen. A time when she had had her brother and her brother had had her. A time before she had watched a slaver drive a knife into Zane. A time before she watched Zane's arm stretch out, reaching for her... A time before...

Before...

Before...slavery.

Shiress gasped at the pain of the memory. Even the good memories hurt now, and she didn't know why.

Shiress could never explain it; she didn't know how to.

Lifting her face, she caught Milo's gaze, then drew the teen into a tentative hug before letting go nearly just as quick, and straightened. Clearing her throat as it threatened to close, she patted Milo's flushed cheek.

"I could never hate you, okay?"

Shiress smiled tightly, turning to leave, but paused, her back to Milo.

"I'm sorry." she whispered.

[Milo Murrell]

All's Well That Ends Better

40th of Summer 521AV

Milo remained motionless and stiff as a board despite being showered with affection. For just a tone or two all the anger, all the pent-up rage simmered down like a pot of boiling water being taken off the stove. He let her come close, let her comb her fingers through his hair, let her pat his cheek like he was some puppy starved for attention. All the while he looked down at her, the family he'd never known he'd had, the one he hadn't asked for. She was shaking.

"No you're not," he muttered under his breath.

Her hands fell back to her side after the awkward, unreciprocated little hug she'd given him. He pulled away.

She didn't understand. Zachiah did, Lorna did. Petch, even Nolen did. They didn't treat him like he didn't exist, they didn't find lousy excuses all the time to walk out of every room he stepped into, they treated him just fine, but Shiress couldn't stand being around him and he didn't understand why. What had he done wrong? Was it the way he talked? The way he looked?

He took a step back, out of her reach, his entire frame tense like a bow strung too tightly.

"I know what this is about," he seethed quietly, flaring his nostrils. "This is about Nolen, isn't it?" He backed off another pace until the small of his back pressed against the kitchen counter top. "You think- you're just jealous he's spending time with me instead of you!" His voice cracked and before Shiress could stop him, he bumped past her and stormed out of the cottage.

He flung the door open with such force that it nearly swung free from its hinges. Lorna looked shocked, got up and called after him but he didn't listen, nothing they said could make things right. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?

His angry, brisk paces turned into a jog, then a run, in no direction in particular except away. Away from the cottage and away from Shiress, who didn't care for him anyway. He wished he could just vanish to someplace quiet, someplace no one would bother him. A place to think.

It wasn't to be.

He could hear the rushed footsteps chasing him, rustling through the overgrowth. It couldn't be Zachiah or Lorna, they were too old to keep up. Nolen then?

But when he came to a sudden halt on the middle of the small dirt road he'd ran down and spun around, it wasn't Nolen that came up to him.

"Stop following me! Just leave me alone!" He walked backwards, kicked a bit off dust at Shiress like he was trying to deter some unwanted pet from chasing after him. "Don't pretend like you care all of a sudden, because you don't! You never have!"

[Shiress]

Scrubbing a hand down her face, Shiress stood in stunned silence, her mind slow to sift through Milo's words. Jealous? Jealous of Nolen? Dumbfounded, she shook her head, turning deliberately, numbly, and watched as the front door slowly swung back from the wall in Milo's wake.

How had this all gone so wrong? Milo was just a child. A child who himself was hurting, grieving, and confused. A child who had traveled such a long way to find Shiress, his only aunt, possibly his only living family, and what had he found? Shiress sighed long and deep, realizing now how her actions and emotions must look to Milo. She should have talked to him before now and would have if she had only listened to her parents. Milo was right about that, at least; her parents did get Milo, understood their grandson's place in their family, and they had accepted that grandson with open arms, and given that understanding, Milo had seen that they did care.

Shiress had instantly fought against that understanding, and why? Because she had wanted her brother back, not his son, not a tease, a taste, no. Shiress had wanted Zane but got Milo instead and had inadvertently rejected him. Oh, for all the God's sake, even Caspian and Taalviel had tried to make her see reason, and she had ignored everyone. Including Milo.

Not bothering to don her shoes, Shiress hurried across the floor and out the door, ignoring the look from her parents that asked, 'are you happy now?' and the quick glance up at Nolen that told he had heard every word of Milo's accusation. Squaring her shoulders, Shiress swept by Nolen and her parents, heading briskly in the direction Milo had fled.

Spotting the boy ahead, Shiress yelled his name, but Milo ignored her calls. Shiress hastened her pace just as Milo finally decided to stop, spinning to face her. Shiress slowed her momentum, approaching the boy slowly, despite his yells and stomping for her not to. Shiress frowned, heart hurting at the look of despair on the boy's face. A look that she had put there.

"Milo, please," she said, voice gentle, hands raised palm out in a soothing gesture, "I realize now how unfair I have treated you, and please know that I am so sorry."

Shiress paused, coming to a stop several feet from the boy, wary of moving any closer, lest he ran again. Shoving hair behind her ear, Shiress met Milo's emerald gaze with her own.

"I think we need to talk, just you and me, okay? There are things that..." her voice faltered then, cracking. Clearing her throat, she continued, "There are things I think I should tell you. Things I think you should know about me and what happened to your father and me when we were young."

Shiress took in a shuttering breath and blew it out through pursed lips, but despite her attempt to calm herself, the words still were spoken with an emotional quiver. "Things that make me the way that I am now." she took a hesitant step forward. "I promise you, Nolen has nothing to do with anything."

"Oh, I bet he does."

Shiress's gaze jerked toward the unfamiliar male voice and tracked a tall, slender form as a man moved into view, then leisurely stepped between her and Milo. Shiress's heart rocked to a stop at the look of the stranger before slamming against her ribcage in an irregular rhythm. The older man was dressed in black leathers, all the way to his thick-soled, black riding boots. His thin dark blonde hair was swept to the side and did nothing to hide the thin red scar that ran down the length of his brow, slicing through his left eye. It was a watery blue, while the right was a deep brown. The strange man's appearance screamed wrong. Screamed Ravok. Screamed Ebonstryfe, and it stole Shiress's ability to breathe.

"I do apologize for interrupting." The man said, the smile on his face doing nothing to ease his features. "I couldn't help but overhear the name Shiress, he angled his body to look over his shoulder at Shiress, "and Nolen." His leisurely, nonchalant pace began again, taking him ever closer to Milo, and Shiress gritted her teeth.

"I" the stranger continued, circling behind the boy, "I am looking for a fine gentleman by the name of Nolen, who, as it so happens, is courting a fine young lady by the name of Shiress."

The man came to a stop directly behind Milo, and when his hands lifted and settled on the boy's shoulders, Shiress moved.

Faster than she thought would ever be possible, Shiress closed the distance between her and Milo, grabbed two handfuls of the boy's shirt, and yanked him to her chest. Shiress's arms went around Milo's upper body like a vice, spinning him sideways and out of the stranger's reach.

Shiress could feel that inner beast of hate and protection and pain stir, its tongue striking out to taste her terror. It moved just beneath the surface of her awareness, wanting, desiring, but Shiress fought its enticing invitation, meeting the man's cold gaze with her own.

"It would do you good, stranger, to keep your hands to yourself." Shiress growled, voice laced with venom and warning. "As you can very well see, Nolen, is.."

"Right here, Thane."

Shiress's head whipped around at the voice to see Nolen several paces down the road, walking steadily in their direction, chin jerking in a motion at Shiress. Tightening the embrace around Milo, Shiress tugged, pulling the boy in Nolen's direction.

"Just an old friend." Nolen said, fingers sliding down Shiress's arm in passing "We'll talk later."

Not stopping to ask questions, Shiress passed by silently, nodding, until a glance over her shoulder told her they were safely out of sight. She stumbled, sinking to her knees, dragging Milo down with her as a wave of weakness flowed through her limbs. Pulling the boy close, she kissed into Milo's soft hair before pushing him away slightly to see his face, her trembling palm cupping his still flushed cheek.

"You okay, baby?" she cooed, "He didn't hurt you, did he?" she asked, then crushed Milo against her chest again. "Gods Milo, I'm so sorry he touched you."

[Milo Murrell]

All's Well That Ends Better

40th of Summer 521AV

Milo faltered, caught between an unreasonable desire to stay angry and an equally unreasonable need to keep his emotions in check. Shiress and her apologies were only a muffled noise serving no purpose but to aggravate him further.

Oh now you want to talk?

He hadn't asked for a history lesson about her and his father. All he asked for was that she acknowledged his existence, maybe tried smiling once or twice while she was at it. Instead she was obsessed with Nolen, he'd seen the way she'd looked at the retired knight. Nolen had nothing to do with it? Yeah right. More petching lies.

A unfamiliar voice sounded.

Milo flinched visibly before he spun around to face the unwelcome visitor. The man who emerged from the undergrowth made his skin crawl with those burning, multicolored eyes. Had he been watching the entire time? Had he heard? The all-black clothes looked familiar yet distinctly unlike anything he'd seen the people of Zeltiva wear and the man didn't have that stink of fish and sea on him.

He should've been quicker, he should've moved, but his thoughts had been stunned to crawl by the appearance of the stranger who had no right to be that close to them without having made himself heard or seen, or felt.

The bony fingers dug into his skin only for a moment before Shiress snatched him away with surprising speed and strength. Milo tried to turn to look when Nolen's voice sounded, but Shiress's vice-like grip kept him locked in place. One thing became perfectly clear to him: she had no intention of letting go.

"Who was-? Where are we-?" Milo stammered as his aunt dragged him away from Nolen and Thane. His anger had all but vanished by the time they'd put a safe distance between themselves and the creepy stranger and confusion took its place. It didn't help that she fretted over him like a worried mother whose runaway child had just returned home.

"I'm fine," he muttered, recoiling a little as she held his cheek. He swatted her hand away when she gave him that same worried Doctor's look when they had first met. "Honestly, I'm fine, I'm-"

The scent of the soap she'd used to wash her clothes filled his nostrils as he was being squeezed to death against her chest. He let out a muffled groan before she finally loosened her grip enough so he could break free.

He was up on his pins in a flash, ran his sleeve across his mouth to brush away the loose fibers of her clothing that had stuck to his lips and ran a hand through his hair, as though he could comb away the contamination of the kiss she'd pressed against his skull.

"Do you know him?" Milo asked, sending a glance across his shoulder in the direction they'd come from. "He gives me the creeps... I didn't even hear him coming!" His voice trembled slightly.

Casting his gaze back toward his aunt, Milo considered offering his hand to help her up, but then thought better of it. With a groan, he sat down beside her and let out a deep breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

For a while he said nothing, just sat beside her and drew circles in the ground with the heel of his boots. One of his hands idly pressed against his chest to feel if the ring tucked away underneath his clothing was still there.

It was.

"If this isn't about Nolen, then it's about my father, isn't it?" He let out something between a snort and a mirthless chuckle. "That was my second guess anyway," he added before he mustered the courage to look at Shiress directly. "If he did something to you, something bad, a long time ago when you were younger... well... I'm very sorry for you but there's nothing I can do about it, is there?" He huffed, then stubbornly looked the other way. "I never even knew him," he concluded bitterly.

[Shiress]

"No," Shiress replied, glancing warily over her shoulder, "I don't know him, and I'm not entirely sure that I ever want to."

Thane, Nolen had called him, that man looked way too much like an Ebonstryfe soldier if she had ever seen one. Just the way the man carried himself and the quiet, confident manner he spoke sent shivers down Shiress's spine.

If somehow the enemies she had accumulated in Ravok had followed her here, to Zeltiva, to her home, Shiress was loathed to imagine what that meant. One thing was for sure, though; her family would be in danger, Ian especially.

Shiress didn't want to uproot what little of her son's life had begun here, in Zeltiva. And, now that Milo was here, Shiress would take him with her, too, no question. She would have to. With her parents getting older and Zane...

It hit her then.

Like a tidal wave bowling over a skiff, the realization that Milo had no one but her slammed home. Sure, he had his grandparents, but, in the end, he really, truly only had Shiress, and she had been seeing this all wrong since meeting Milo in her exam room. Had Shiress been the one who had died and, with her last breath, had sent her son off to find an uncle that Ian knew little to nothing about, how would she have wanted Ian to be received by Zane? A bitter reminder, or as a son he never knew he had?

Nolen and the strange man forgotten, Shiress sucked in a breath, turned to face a fidgeting Milo, but the boy spoke first. She listened, already shaking her head before the boy had even finished speaking.

"No, nothing like that." she said, regarding Milo thoughtfully a moment before continuing.

How much of her past should she tell the boy? At such a young age, what would be understood and what might be misconstrued? Shiress dropped her face, gazing worriedly down at her hands resting in her lap, the pad of her thumb running gently across the tops of her fingernails.

"Would you tell me about Zane, your father?" Shiress asked, face still downcast "What do you know of him? Of me?"

Shiress carefully listened as Milo spoke about his father, tears welling in her eyes when the boy's words confirmed that Zane had, in fact, been enslaved. She was surprised by how little Milo actually knew about his father, less surprised that her parents had been more reserved in what they had shared of her own past with Milo. The teen knew little to nothing about Shiress and Zane. Maybe it was time, after all, to fill in the gaps for the young man.

"Zane and I were....are twins." she stated, voice soft "Did you know that?" Shiress smiled, gaze lifting to meet Milo's. "Several days after we turned fourteen, we piled into our parent's wagon for a trip to Sunberth." Shiress paused, frowning, then shook her head "We'd never gone to Sunberth before, but father often had business there, and it had been a beautiful day. We had planned to stay the night."

Shiress's gaze drifted, as did her thoughts. She had never questioned why the unexpected trip, never felt the need to, but something dark wiggled down her spine, and she quickly averted her thoughts away from that particular query.

"We were left on a bench, outside a building, while your grandparents disappeared inside for a meeting. They were supposed to only be gone half a bell if that." Shiress's gaze dropped again to her hands, and her voice quivered as she continued. "Men came up to Zane and me as we sat there. They said that they were taking us to our parents, and so, we followed them." She drew in a deep breath and blew it out through pursed lips.

"Zane and I ended up in an alleyway. The men we thought were taking us to our parents attacked us. We got separated." Shiress fell silent for a long while before adding. "The last time I saw your father, my brother, one of the men had just stabbed him in the stomach because he was fighting to get to me."

Tears streamed freely down Shiress's cheeks as a sob escaped her throat.

"That was the last time I ever saw Zane and I never knew if my brother had lived or died that day." Lifting her gaze, Shiress pinned Milo with her emerald eyes, eyes that were so like his own, so like his father's. "Not until I looked at you in my exam room and I saw his eyes and the very ring that he was given on our fourteenth birthday."

Shiress smiled sadly, yearning to reach out and touch Milo, but she felt Milo wouldn't appreciate it, which put a bit of a pained edge to her sadness.