[The Trough] Need to think (0pen)

[Bolden Denusk]

'Ah. I see the game now.' he thought with a tired sigh. He was already tired when he went to the Trough, now he was beyond exhausted.

Unwillingly, he was carried back 9 years as the memory flooded him.

' 'You must pay attention Bolden, for this will decide the man you'll become.' The 10 year old Denusk shifted his feet and rolled his eyes with a reluctant, 'Yessir.' His father nodded to Vanator who came striding in confidently. Van sat in front of Bolden, there to lend some moral support to his half brother.

'You've started and now you need guidance.' Bold looked at his father with a look of, 'you told him?!' Eachann paused for a moment, catching his son's eyes.

'The women you choose in life will make or break your spirit. If you don't choose wisely, they'll break your back and steal your dignity, rather than guide you to where you belong.'

Bold raised both eyebrows in surprise. This was worse than the talk! Wives? Are they nuts?

'There are three personalities of women as there are three types with mares. The first will have no loyalty to anyone but herself, ignorantly responding to any man who approaches with no thought to her husband.'

Van chimed in, clapping a hand to Bold's thin shoulder,
'The second one may look lovely but have not a brain in her silly head. This kind of mare sometimes will reject her own young or run off and get herself killed.'

Eachann finished the conversation with his usual dignity.
'The third wife will show selflessness, quiet strength, be very demure and most importantly, very motherly. This wife is the kind you must always choose no matter what your body tells you.'

The boy squirmed in his seat, thoroughly uncomfortable with all this wife nonsense. His father and half brother pinned him with dual icy stares until he became very still.

'You think this is nothing, but you must consider our words carefully. A man's wife is an extension of himself. If he chooses a flighty mare, others will think poorly of his judgement. When Van marries, his wives will be your sisters; your family. To be treated with respect because they do not just represent his honor; as an extension of your family, they also hold your dignity in their tiny hands. If she strays, it mars his dignity, his honor and his trust-and yours.

You are to treat other mens wives with unimpeachable dignity and respect at all times. If you lead a wife astray, your honor is even more lacking than hers for a woman is bred to obey.

' Women are to marry or respect as someone elses. If you want to make a casual friend, find a horse Bolden. That will keep you out of trouble!'

The memory took less than a chime and he came back hearing Khiara's words as if for the first time. His shoulders squared and he stood firmly by the door.

"I see my previous conversation was inappropriate for your wifely ears. Please accept my apology. However you did not answer my question of whether or not you need a servant's assistance or simply seeking someone to entertain you. I'm not sure that's something for me to indulge."

Bolden recognized his social blunders with this woman, looking over their chatter tonight. He sighed again, distancing himself emotionally now, not just physically. There were no smiles or laughter now and his eyes turned cold and hard. His bearing and demeanor became pure Denusk.

"I will ask the questions and you will answer me. You previously mentioned someone named Ronan, and not making that mistake again. How so? If you have strayed from my brother's furs, then it is his place to discipline you, not mine. Also, where are your children? Think carefully before you answer me brother's wife, and do not raise your voice to me."

A little of Bolden died inside, but he knew he must uphold the family's ever important dignity, respect and incessant honor. Bolden Denusk was home again.

[Khiara]

Khiara stared at the young man with disbelieve, unable to fathom what she was hearing. Someone to entertain her?! What the petching hell? Since when had she ever given the young man any reason to think that. At the tavern, she had told him she was married - to his brother no less! At the corral, she had spoken in depth about Vanator and Kashik and how she owed them everything. On the stupid petching strider - that she hadn't requested to be put on to mind you - she had even assumed he accused her of infidelity to which she had flared up. Only out of fear that she had accused wrongly, and admittedly a little fear of the youth, had she settled back down. And then, even when his true intentions rose in every sense of the word, she had still not done anything un-toward.

His tone, his whole manner presented a man who had no respect for a woman, no faith in her kind. What ever had happened to him as a child it was not her fault, nor was it in her to take his accusations. She was a faithful wife, and a vanthan woman. The comments cut deeply to her core for her own person and her culture. With stormy eyes, the young brunette rose from the pillows and advanced toward the young man, standing in front of him with balled hands at her side.

"What in Morwen's Name gives you the right to speak down to me like that? Is it that I am not true drykas, because you saw with your own eyes the mare that chose me. I have no servants as I am not for slavery. I need no healer, as I am not an infant. There has never been a moment tonight where I have ever given reason to believe.." His next words broke through her quietly spoken rage, and without thought for the threat in his last words, the girl slapped his cheek hard. Her eyes were a vivid gold and she shook with anger.

"How petching dare you! Ronan was a young fool who stole a kiss from my lips without request or acceptance. My regret was that I trusted a stranger, and now it seems I've done it again. I have never been unfaithful to Vanator, and what ever your intentions were tonight, I never will be. You ask where my children are? I have none, I bare none. Your brother married a barren foreigner!" She felt hot angry tears on her cheeks as the last sentence spilled from her lips, ignoring them.

[Bolden Denusk]

The sound of her slap resounded through the silent tent and he stood like marble. He never acknowledged her strike, but his eyes went from icy to fiery as he pinned her with a fierce and furious stare.

"I see your ankle is magically better enough to walk on when you want to with no twinges or dramatic wincing now. Good. Save your fuss and fits for Vanator and his -First- wife."

Bolden paused a moment to let that sink in.

"I told you not to raise your voice to me, and yet you ignore it and even strike me. Just because you allowed some colt to kiss you doesn't mean you should take out your tantrum on me."

The Denusk stood so immobile he seemed to hardly breathe. Indeed the only things that moved on him were the sparks of rage in his eyes. His face remained an impassive barrier with no emotion to read. At that moment, no one could question the incredible resemblance between Bolden and Vanator.

"You screech and wail and cry like a banshee. A person's worth is measured by their self control Sister in law, whether they be male or female. I speak not in your Morwen's name. I speak for the Denusk name when you sully the family honor with your stolen kisses, appearing/disappearing ankle pains and foolish petulance. Good night Sister in law."

Bolden turned on his heel and left the tent in silence.

'They were wrong; there's a fourth type. Drama and tears, manipulating for attention like a high-strung horse that constantly shies at nothing.' He thought with silent shaking rage.

Bold walked to his horse, anger and exhaustion catching up with him. He leaned across the Strider's back, resting his chin near the Yvas, and praying to the Gods he didn't let loose the temper within that neared boiling.

[Vanator]

Vanator stormed through the trodden streets of Endrykas like a vengeful god, his strides long and quick, his brows knitted over brown eyes with smoldering gold flecks. Earlier, he had walked with Kashik and the baby to the camps of the Diamond clan. His first wife was to spend some time with her family, to allow them to bond with the child. The sun had fallen, and as he made his way back to the Sapphire pavilions, he over heard two women speaking, the name of Khiara clearly part of the conversation. He had politely asked what they discussed, but they refused, recognizing who he was. Only with a glowering glare was the Denusk able to coerce an answer from the women. Khiara Denusk had been seen in the Trough, drinking with a man that was not her husband or his kin. Vanator headed directly for the tavern. Ronan, he was sure it was that snake. I should have broken his bones. Some guys just don't know when to stop. This time, Vanator would ensure Ronan Windsong never come near his wife again. Barging into the Trough, the angry husband saw no sign of Khiara or Ronan. A quick interrogation of a server revealed that his wife had left a short time ago with a man. Seething, Vanator grabbed the edge of a table and overturned it as he barreled out of the tavern tent towards his pavilion. An unfamiliar strider was waiting outside the Denusk pavilion when Vanator strode into the camp. He made a beeline for the entrance, but hesitated when he heard a heated conversation inside. He recognized Khiara's voice, the male unrecognizable, nor were the words clear. By the tone, he could tell the discussion was heated. Footsteps approached the entrance, and Vanator slipped into the shadows nearby. A man, angry by the set of his gait, walked out of the tent into the dark, moving to the waiting horse and leaned against it. Ronan! He had brought her home? Into his own tents? Rage overcame Vanator, and he raced towards the man whose back still faced him. Seizing hold of the man's tunic at the shoulders, and giving a mighty heave, Vanator threw the man to the ground roughly. "You don't take a hint, do you? I warned you Windsong! I told you to leave her alone! And you have the nerve to ride with her to my front door, and enter my tent with her? What was your plan, to lay with her on my bed?" Vanator's voice grew into a booming roar. The enraged Denusk leaned down and grabbed the man by the collar of his tunic and jerked him up, his hand balled into a fist and cocked back, ready to pummel his rival.

[Khiara]

As Bolden turned to leave, Khiara stared after him in a blind rage, ignoring the slight twinge in her ankle, unwilling to give the rotton drykas any more fuel for his fire. She was livid, deeply insulted by his words. He shamed her and he shamed the Goddess Almighty. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks as she bit the inside of her cheek, fighting hard to stop the words that threated to tear from her throat. He spoke down to her, made her feel worthless and filthy. A second wife, but...still a wife to the Ankal. The stony Denusk spoke not for his family - none if them had ever cut her so deeply or upset her so much.

Turning away, she sank against the tent pole, raising a shaking hand to her face as the emotions of the evening overwhelmed her. Crying softly, she wished the ground would swallow her up. She was second to Kashik, and it was all okay, until now. Now, the vantha felt worthless, used up, a pathetic cling-on that held onto a fantasy. It was untrue, of course, but his words ate at her.

It was then she heard the shouting, a man's voice angry beyond what she'd ever known. Vanator. Her heart raced, but then she heard the name, and felt a stab of hurt. Vanator thought that Bolden was Ronan. Did he think her so unfaithful, after everything she'd endured and her open honesty only the week prior. Undenably, Khiara was temped to let Vanator pummel the youth sensless, but she was a good woman. Even after all he'd said, the brunette couldn't let Vanator make this mistake. Exiting thw tent, she stood beside the men.

"Vanator! Van stop, stop! It's not...its your brother." The girl reached out to touch him on the shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. She hoped the young Denusk could see she had no interest in him.

"It's Bolden."

[Bolden Denusk]

Bolden struggled to quell his rage and exhaustion. Three days and nights of hard riding and then a ridiculously over dramatic scene with Van's wife. Bold had got her home on her pretend injured ankle and checked to see if she needed care and then the banshee throws a tantrum! Women.

'Why do I bother?' He sighed and--

The young Denusk hit the ground so hard a puff of dust clouded up around him. He looked up from the ground, his breath rushing out in a whooshing sound, leaving him stunned and wide eyed.

Nightwind neighed angrily, half rearing toward Vanator, his ears pinned back and his teeth bared. Bolden rapidly sent a 'STOP!' command to the Strider and told him to move out of the way.

"Vanat--!" he managed to barely choke out the name as his older brother choked him with one hand, and ready to smash a fist into him with the other. This Denusk was younger, taller and had a longer reach than his half brother. He shoved a foot into the center of Van's chest to push him off without striking his own family. Damned if he was gonna play-wrestle with him at this age.

"Shove off bro!" Bolden barked angrily. "Who the gods is Windsong?!" He asked in confusion. Bold shook off Van's hand and stood up; then he looked down at him with surprise at the height difference.

'Hey! I'm taller than he is now!'

"Van you're still a Zibri's arse!" said Bold with a smirk, thumping his half brother on the shoulder.

The younger Denusk turned at the sound of Khiara's voice, protesting belatedly.

'Petching actress.' he thought to himself.

[Vanator]

Vanator felt the foot in his chest and twisted slightly to let it glance across his torso, but it served its purpose in pushing him back, his hand releasing the man's tunic. quickly regaining his stance, Van readied to move in again. His rage had blinded him in the dim light. Only when the man spoke did he realize it was not Ronan. The voice sounded vaugely familiar, or rather the tone that it took. He paused, fist still clenched, when he felt Khiara's gentle touch. "Its Bolden." Confused, Van looked closer at the man he had assaulted. No it was not Ronan. Nevertheless, his suspicion remained, for he had been seen with Khiara. Bolden. Khiara had said Bolden. Looking again at the bearded man, the older brother finally saw it. It was Ay'vata's son. "Bolden?" Vanator questioned, eyes squinting as if to discern the boy's face in the features of the man. Yes, he saw it, it was his half-brother. With a scrunched face, the older Denusk approached Bolden, searching ithe man's eyes in the low moonlight. The last time he looked into those eyes, Vanator had to look down. Now, six years later, he stood eye to eye with his younger brother. In a flash, the anger rose again in his face. His hand fell on Bolden's shoulder, a hard, strong grip laid hold upon him. "We thought you were dead. Our father had just lost his wife and then he thought he lost his son! Your sisters were grieving the loss of their mother, and where were you? You probably didn't even know that Tamar was killed, did you? You selfish child!" Vanator's finger pointed accusingly at his brother. "Where have you been?" The moment froze as the Denusk men's eyes locked. Then Vanator threw his arms around Bolden in an embrace. "Curse you son of a ... It is good to see you again." Van muttered. "And if I recall, you were the zibri's arse."

[Khiara]

Khiara watched as the two men greeted each other after six years apart, Vanator's natural reaction to be angry. Her eyes turned away, feeling the same pull as she thought of her home family. Goddess, is that how they would react. Of course it was. Turning aside as the older man dropped his angry pose to embrace the youth, the vantha wiped the tears off her face with the palms of her hands. She would not give the stupid boy anymore reason to insult her, and Vanator didn't need to know...not yet.

Looking back at the men, she pushed her hair back away from her face and swallowed the urge to lay it all out for how much of an...a zibri's ass Bolden really was.

"I found him in the Trough, or rather, he found me." Khiara said softly, golden eyes glancing at Bolden, before turning to Vanator.

Had he really expected Ronan again? Her whole soul felt crushed. After everything he'd put her through...

It would not do to dwell on that now, not when Bolden would so easily throw it in her face. Second wife...technically she was the third wife. Tamar, was the First.

[Bolden Denusk]

' "..where were you? You probably didn't even know that Tamar was killed, did you? You selfish child!..." '

Van's words still echoed painfully in his mind, lashing at the hidden corners til the walls bled.

' I'll chew on it later.' he thought, squashing it down firmly. Bolden kept on his biggest smile, still happy and relieved at finding his brother alive and well. He offered his water skin to first Vanator and nodded to pass it on to Khiara too.

"We got so much to talk about huh? But first off man--your temper hasn't changed a bit!" He laughed and continued, still beaming now that he was with family again.

"Get this--I ride for three days and nights to track you down. I figure I'll stop at the Trough and have a drink. I see some girl sitting alone--before you go off--admit you've thought the same; buy her a drink! So I bring over the drink -that she refuses--and she's got these Vantha eyes. Being my usual charming self, I stared and said nothing while she was telling me she's married and showing me a Chevas Mark!"

Bold laughed at his own goofiness with good nature and continued.

"Next thing I know, we're exchanging names and Khiara tells me she's married to you! I spit mead everywhere and nearly yelled in her face, 'VANATOR!' Man the music stopped, everybody stared and I was sitting there with my mouth open, dripping mead! Cool as a Vantha, she raises a mug and says your name like a toast and had everyone cheering!"

The young Drykas laughed at the memory as he explained it to Vanator.

"I find out she's family and then she mentions my weakness--horses! My Strider saw her Strider and they showed off for each other---gorgeous mare by the way-- when quick as a Denusk man at feeding time, she falls off the fence!"

He looked rueful at telling what his next actions were and gave a sheepish smile.

"So, I panicked and treated her like a horse! I checked for a digital pulse on her ankle and asked if it was laminitis pain or thrush pain! The poor woman stared at me like I'm mental! I threw her up on my Strider, jumped up and started hollering for healer directions. Man I didn't know what to do! 2 bells in this girl's company and she's lamed herself!"

He looked back at his own narrative and had to stop for breath from laughing so hard.

"Then we start off for your tent and she goes all womanly pride and actually said to--get this-- let her down and she'd walk! I had to refuse and remind her that a Denusk doesn't leave injured female family to walk alone at night, ya know? Then as soon as the tents appeared, I hopped down beside Nightwind--Gods know how those old gossips are spreading rumor when they don't know fact!" Bolden shook his head at it and finished his story.

"Finally, I get her into the tent and we had some confusion on your how many wives?--I'm still learning bro, and been gone for a bit. Khiara said she didn't want servants and she seemed to not need a healer. I let her know I should keep things right and tight till I could see you, and not be alone in the tent with her more than a chime. I said my good night, nearly fell asleep on Nightwind and well.." The young man rubbed his throat and smirked.

"I think you know what happened after that!"

http://www.mizahar.com/forums/post92099.html#p92099

[Khiara]

Khiara stared at Bolden as he spoke, unable tonlook away as the tale of their night - so vivid and bitter and hurtful - was relayed in an almost comical light, complete with laughter and self-discovered reflection. The young Denusk made it sound like a perfectly wonderful evening...when Khiara felt like she'd been stripped bare and flailed. The urge to let her jaw drop in utter surprize was iver powering, but the vantha kept her teeth clamped firmly together. Conviniently, Bolden had skipped over the brutal insults he'd dished out at the distressed young brunette.

Looking at Vanator, Khiara put on a smile and shrugged slightly, her eyes a rich gold even in the evening firelight. Her hands moved to hold her arms protectivly.

"It has been quite an interesting night, to say the least. It seems I can hardly turn around without seeing a Denusk." The vantha's lyrical voice said calmly, concentrating on keeping the waiver out of her tone.

Secind wife...adulterer...foriegner.

That wss how she felt, for the fiest time since coming to Endrkyas, Khiara was made to feel like she didn't belong. Glancing back at Bolden, Khiara felt the hard lump in her throat, wanting to just go back inside. For the first time in her whole time with the drykas, Khiara wanted to go home.