In Which Lonriad Notes the Name

August 14, 1178

"So... what are we going to do about this?"

Ashe's eyes bulged and for the life of him Lonriad couldn't understand why. Whatever Deian had threatened to do to them didn't matter. They were knights. They'd sworn oaths to protect the kingdom, even at the cost of their own lives. Someone had to know about Deian, someone in a position to do something about it. Besides, they could always seek protection if necessary. Lonriad was no longer a child, but adult or not, he doubted his father would stand to see him baked in a pie.

But maybe that was the difference. Ashe wasn't much younger, but he didn't have a father--hadn't had one for years, if Deian had told the truth. No one had ever taught him how to be a man. "You're not seriously thinking about telling, are you?"

"Do we really have a choice?" His foot a little sore under the weight of his folded leg, Lonriad shifted, raising the offending knee. "Hell, one of his group burned down your village. You of all people should know what happens when he's allowed to run around unchecked. I mean, fuck--your family died."

"I didn't have a family. My mother was dead long before Deian ever came along, and my father..." He trailed off, the thought hanging in the air like the half-formed braids Lonriad's little sister loved to start and hated to finish. "My father is probably better off."

"What, because of whatever happened to you?" Silence--even the breeze held its breath. Lonriad sighed. "Ashe, I'm a father. And you're going to be a father in a few months, so let me tell you something you're going to learn firsthand. If you really love your kid--hell, if you really love anyone--that sort of thing doesn't matter. It's just... it's a happening, like breaking a finger, or catching something from a prostitute. You deal with it, you move on, you keep on loving. Your father would tell you the same thing if he was here right now."

Ashe's fingers curled to his palm, knuckles pitch white and pronounced. "Don't talk to me like you knew my father!"

Lonriad flinched. Maybe that had been out of line. Didn't change much, though. "Right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have presumed."

His companion said nothing--just closed his eyes and sat there, trying to will himself out of existence. He reminded Lonriad of nothing more than a trapped animal who'd worn himself out struggling and had lost any fight he'd had in him. He didn't think he could stand it, the thought of ever seeing his own son like that. He would have taken on the whole world if it meant little Sevvie would never have to feel so lost.

"Ashe?"

Apple-green eyes opened, staring at him with the same ire and contempt they'd held a year and a half prior, on a snowy day, on another face. "Don't--"

"What happened?"

Ashe stood, glaring all the while. Not about to let up, Lonriad scrambled to his own feet. "What did he mean, when he said he'd change you back? What were you before? And why is it so important that Rona never knows?"

The other turned around, taking a few steps away from him. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You must want to talk about it." Lonriad lunged forth and grabbed Ashe by the arm, wheeling him back about. The anger in those green eyes remained, but it was a dying spark next to the pyre of fear that took over. He'd never seen such frightened eyes on an adult before. "How long have you been around? You must have been like this for at least a year now. And you've never talked to anyone about it? God, you must be half mad by now."

"I am not!" A couple of birds took off from a nearby tree. Ashe took a second to recompose. "I mean... it's none of your business. Just leave me alone."

"No. I'm trying to help you. Stop acting like a child and let me."

An odd, strangled sound pushed past Ashe's lips. Lonriad could only describe it as a dry sob. "Just let it go."

"No." He grabbed hold of Ashe's biceps and locked eyes with him. The other pair blinked with an unnerving frequency, but Lonriad made a point to keep his own open. "What were you? Some hideous beggar with a hump and no teeth? A spider that used to perch on Rona's windowsill and watch her undress? Her goddamn chamber pot? I swear to God, I'll never tell anyone, just... just let me know what I can do."

"You can shut up and keep quiet about Deian. That's what you can do."

This wasn't the end of it, but there a note of finality in Ashe's voice seemed to think otherwise. There was something familiar about it, that resolve, something uncanny. Sort of like the way his eyes lit and darkened like a sun-ward room on a cloudy day, the way his upper lip curled when he had nothing left to say. He had the reddest hair of anyone Lonriad knew but if the light hit it just right, strands of it gleamed near gold. He'd never seen anything quite like it before.

No, that wasn't quite true. He had seen hair like that, not long ago but a lifetime away, on a girl he'd known once upon a memory. A freckly, skinny little thing, long-lashed and full-lipped, not quite confident enough to be pretty but a sight to behold when her anger let her forget it. A girl he could have fought for but didn't, a girl he might have glanced once or twice afterwards but could have been his mind playing tricks, a girl who hadn't been seen or heard from in over a year.

A girl who didn't exist anymore. "...Aspen?"

He--she--whoever shoved him aside, too upset to respond, too embarrassed to flee. Lonriad reached out again, but a leather-clad arm batted away his outstretched hand. "What happened?"

A shake of the head, gold glints bobbing in and out of their crimson sea. He wasn't so unnerved by the difference in bodies than he was by the change in demeanor. The top of Aspen's head had been barely higher than Lonriad's shoulder but she'd faced him with the fire of a thousand hells. Ashe had a good half a foot on her and nothing but a handful of dying embers. The new name was fitting, and not just for the tree connection. "I don't want to hurt you. I just--"

"Don't!"

The birds might have flown again if any had remained, but they were alone, Ashe moreso than Lonriad. "Just... forget it. Don't talk to me. And if you ever tell anyone, I swear to God, I'll make you wish Deian had killed you."

That was it. He just turned around and stormed off, not even sparing a second to spit on Lonriad's boot again.

Helpless, useless, Lonriad glanced down to where the wad might have landed if he had. These weren't even the same boots, but he could almost see Aspen's mark on them. "...I'm sorry."

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