Storm Warning

head right now. You don't go into a pairing intending to try and change someone to suit you. They were themselves long before you came along. You do go into a pairing ready to compromise.'

He shook his head numbly, his entire soul rebelling at the idea that she thought his troubles were no more serious than simple hurt feelings, and once again she divined what he meant though he could not say it.

'Huh... it's not that?'

He nodded, then shook his head helplessly.

'It's not that, and it's more than that?'

He sniffed, and nodded.

She paused for a moment, and thought, her brows creased. 'All right. I'll start with what's simplest. Now, listen to me and believe me. Darkwind and I are lovers, partners, and friends—there isn't much that is going to come between us, and Firesong knows that. He also knows that I am not Tayledras, and that I would be very, very hurt if what you saw and heard was anything other than friendly teasing. So does Darkwind. That's one of the compromises we've made.' Then she laughed dryly. 'More than that, he knows that there is a very real possibility that he would be very, very hurt as well—physically! I have quite a few faults, An'desha, and I have a very bad temper. I do not care to share Darkwind with anyone, and I will not be humiliated, especially in front of others. If I thought that was going to happen, well, someone would need a bandage or splint.'

'Oh,' was all he could say.

'So—for the answer to the situation that made you angry in the first place and triggered all this, if I don't have a reason to feel jealous or humiliated, and I'm the most jealous wench in Valdemar, certainly you don't!'

Uncertainly, he rubbed at his burning eyes with the back of his hand and coughed. A certain Shin'a'in proverb sprang immediately to mind. Not a flattering one, either. 'But they say that the—'

'The lady is always the last to know.' She snorted, a most unladylike sound. 'Yes, but 'they' don't reckon on bondbirds and Companions, both of whom would tell tales, I promise you. Vree doesn't much care for Firesong's bird Aya, and he likes me and Gwena both; he'd babble like a scarlet jay either to me or to her if Darkwind got up to something with Firesong that I didn't know about.'

An'desha wiped his eyes again. It certainly sounded logical. 'But—'

'But that's giving Firesong no credit whatsoever for any kind of feelings, honor, or decency; that's assuming that he is as shallow and light-minded as he would like us to think. That is not fair to him, and you know better. For that matter, so do I.' She took his chin in two fingers, and angled his face towards hers so that he had to look into her eyes. 'Ke'chara, he is a Healing Adept. Don't you realize what that means? Of all people, you should. For all that he seems light-minded on the outside, he cares, more than anyone I have ever seen. He cares for you, and I think he has surprised himself by how much he cares for you. He has put a great deal of himself into the Healing of you, and he will literally empty himself for you if you let him, right down to the dregs. He is as decent and honorable as any Herald I know, and that is the greatest compliment I could give anyone.'

An'desha swallowed slowly past the great lump in his throat. 'I—'

'He has his faults, plenty of them, but failing to care about you and what happens to you is not one of them. He and I are rather alike when it comes to matters of the heart. Maybe it's the blood we share, I don't know.' She looked very stern, and he was forcefully reminded of Need. 'Give the man some credit. He has the capacity for great love, and he's not going to risk great love for something trivial. It was nothing more than a game. He would never, ever jeopardize anything having to do with you.'

He had to believe her. She knew; she knew people, and she knew Firesong and Darkwind. He blinked, his eyes feeling gritty and sore, and nodded. Then his fear rose in him again, worse than before, when he realized what he could have done for no cause. Somehow that made it all worse.

'But Fal—' he began, with a wail of despair.

She cut him off with a look and a finger placed against his lips. 'Falconsbane had nothing to do with the way you reacted. Being far too ready to think yourself hurt did, but not Falconsbane. He is gone, and good riddance.'

'No,' he replied, with heat. 'This time you don't understand! Even if he's gone, he's still a part of me, he's corrupted me, he's gotten into the way I think and react and—'

'Hell, no,' she said firmly. 'Horseturds. For one thing, I doubt that Mornelithe Falconsbane ever cared enough about anything or anyone to ever feel jealousy! In order to become jealous, you have to care for and value something besides yourself, you know.'