Mate for Life

Soon everyone was sound asleep, giving Daegon time to think. He was sure now the Emmy was genuinely unaware of any talent she possessed as a ranger, and was starting to doubt his own perception. Her spell in the cave wasn't anything a ranger was trained to do, that was certain. But her scent......it was driving him batty, and he could barely keep from touching her. As it was, he'd gotten a few sly comments over the attention he paid her, though she seemed oblivious to it. She didn't seem to treat him any differently than she did anyone else. He was surprised at how much that bothered him.

Face it, she's not interested, he told himself sternly. Even if she does smell like...

His mate?

The thought hit before he could squelch it, and he shook his head savagely, as if to throw it out of his mind by brute force. But there it was, no taking it back now. He growled softly, watching her sleep, though still alert to the sounds of the woods around him. A rustling from the bush behind Emmy sharpened his gaze, and he half rose, ready to strike. He relaxed as a fox cautiously emerged, sniffing the air, its eyes black in the faint light of the banked fire. The fox dropped its nose, snuffling all along Emmy's still form, made a happy sort of muffled whine, and curled up in a ball at her feet. She didn't stir. Daegon grinned.

By the time his watch was done, she had attracted a squirrel, a chipmunk, and a rabbit, all snoozing away as close to her as they could get. The rabbit was absurdly flopped on its back, his ears grazing Emmy's cheek, and he stifled a laugh when she snorted in her sleep and twitched at the tickle. None of the animals seemed concerned about the others' presence.

"She does have that effect, guys," Daegon said softly, and woke Fizzy for the next watch.

The town council was enormously pleased and paid them generously, Bran for once not having to haggle their fee back to where it belonged.

"We probably got stiffed," he commented cynically as he divvied up the take. "Damn all politicians."

"Certainly," Mendel slid his share into an elaborately embroidered purse, tucking it away somewhere on his person. Daegon knew logically that Mendel's robes must have pockets, but they never betrayed any extra bulk, no matter how much he was carrying. "But they paid us well, regardless." The mage wandered away.

Daegon took his cut without counting it, looking around for Emily. He spotted her in a corner by the fire, Spike at her feet, one - no, two - of the half-feral tavern cats in her lap. He drew closer and stifled a laugh. There was a mouse on her shoulder, totally unconcerned by the two cats within striking distance. Fizzy and Glenna were with her, the three women laughing and chatting over tea and breakfast. He watched Emmy place a crumb on her shoulder for the mouse, which squeaked with delight.

"Still plagued by furry things, eh cousin?" Glenna teased as Daegon approached. She looked up and smiled at the ranger. "Morning, Daeg."

"Good morning, ladies," Daegon bowed elaborately, causing Glenna and Fitz to roll their eyes and Emmy to laugh. "Planning your shopping campaign? I pity the shopkeepers, they don't stand a chance."

"Of course," Glenna said with a grin. "A girl has to have some fun."

"Emmy, you continue to amaze me," he scratched Spike's ears, the dog having lumbered to his feet at Daegon's arrival. "Normally, Spike would have wreaked havoc chasing the cats, and likely gotten soundly thrashed for his trouble. And Sir Mouse? Cat kibble."

"Oh, she's always been like that," Glenna said helpfully before Emmy could speak. "She was always nursing wounded animals and being followed by every critter within shouting distance. Uncle Tanrick wanted to train her, but Aunt Jenny wouldn't let him."

"That's not true, Glenn," Emily said, a frown between her brows. "I wasn't interested in forestry. Mama never said a thing against my training. And Dad died when we were only seven, how would you know?"

"I was at your place as much as you were at mine," Glenna waved a hand airily. "And my mother told me about yours; they were twins after all. Aunt Jenny was really afraid you'd be like your father, you know."

"What do you mean?" Emily looked as if she wondered if she should be angry.

Glenna looked at her cousin, blinking. "You really don't know, do you?" she said slowly.

Now this sounded interesting. Daegon took a seat, trying to blend in with the wall. The cousins seemed to have forgotten him. Fitz caught his eye, raising a brow, and he shook his head at her, leaning forward to catch Emmy's reply. Fitz shrugged and sat back.

"Know what?" Emmy asked sharply.

"Emmy, your dad thought you could be the most gifted ranger in generations," Glenna said, biting her lip. "But Aunt Jenn wouldn't let him train you. She was afraid you'd hare off and get killed all alone in the woods somewhere, and she'd never know what happened to you. She was so happy when you married Garrick, because she knew then that you'd have protection."

Emily was so still for a moment Daegon wondered if she breathed. "That can't be right," she said quietly, staring at Glenna. "That was a long time ago, you must be remembering things wrong. If you thought I knew, why didn't we talk about it when we were children?"

Glenna took Emily's hand, her eyes troubled. "We did, some," Glenna reminded her. "But you always said you were going to be a great cleric like your mom, and the animal thing was just something you liked to do, and it was good practice. Remember?"

Emily nodded slowly, unconsciously petting Spike, who had sensed her distress and offered comfort. The cats, not so concerned for her state of mind, regally ignored the dog and slunk off her lap to curl under her chair. "But...Glenna, why didn't anyone tell me? Not my brothers? Not you? Not Aunt Janet?"

Glenna sighed. "When your dad died, Aunt Jenn wouldn't let anyone discuss ranger training with you, ever. She said you would become a cleric, and that was that. Uncle Tanrick died saving his party, holding off a horde of kobolds or something?"

"Yes," Emily said in a small voice. "I...never really got the details, Mama never spoke much of it." She swallowed, looking at Glenna. "But honestly, I don't remember ever wanting to train as a ranger, I always wanted to be a cleric."

"Well, I don't know what exactly happened," Glenna said softly. "And you're right, you always said you wanted to be a cleric, and you're a damn good one. I think Aunt Jenn was very careful to channel you in that direction."

"But not my brothers?" Emily sounded bitter. "It wasn't appropriate for me because I'm a girl?"

"Your brothers are quite a bit older than you, Emmy," Glenna said softly. "Mom said that Aunt Jenn had pretty much given up having more children when you came along. She was so happy to have a daughter, and..." Glenn bit her lip, hesitating.

Emily sighed. "Just tell me," she said.

"Mom and Dad always said Uncle Tanrick was a charmer, and a fantastic ranger," Glenna said. "But reckless. Remember how our brothers were always pulling us out of trees and waterholes and caves? We'd always get stuck somehow," she grinned at Emily, who smiled back. "Well, whose idea was it, every time?"

Emily stopped smiling, looking wary. "Ummmmm..."

"Yours," Glenna said. "Just like your father. Reckless, always getting into trouble. Hell, I barely recognized you when you got here, you were so quiet and self-contained. Remember when we traveled together? Who always found trouble? Hm?"

"Me," Emmy whispered, looking stricken. "Glenn, I..."

"Don't apologize," Glenna laughed. "That was some of the best days of my life. Until Garrick died," she said, suddenly sobering. "That broke you, love. And you're so changed now. Not that I blame you."

"But none of that explains..."

"Yeah, it does," Fizzy said unexpectedly, and Daegon could have hugged her. He'd been afraid of interrupting, not wanting to disturb the flow of information he was finding so fascinating. But Fizzy could; she was part of the club of women. Daegon tried to be invisible as Fitz continued. "It sounds to me like your mother was a planner, someone that thought things through before acting, and your dad was someone that mostly worked by instinct, leaping in before looking. Am I right?"

The two cousins nodded. "Mama always said her sister over thought things," Glenna offered.

"Well, you were born late, the only girl, and I'll bet you showed a talent for healing and animals at an early age. She didn't want to lose her only daughter, and there was likely no chance of more children. So she encouraged that part of you, while steering you away from the more reckless aspects of your talents. When your dad died, I'm sure it just reinforced her needing to protect you," Fitz said matter of factly.

"Makes sense," Glenna said before Emmy could comment. "And sounds exactly like Aunt Jenn."

Emily looked at Fitz thoughtfully. "Your mother did the same thing, didn't she?" she asked shrewdly.

"Father," Fizzy corrected cheerfully. "It's a wonder how parents screw up their kids."

"Your mom was a thief?" Glenna asked with interest.

"Nope, she ran a tavern, and had trained as a healer. She actually left it up to me what I wanted to be. Dad was a merchant, very respectable and serious, but he loved us. No idea where I got my talent," Fizzy grinned. "But I was in and out trouble when I was younger. Dad tried so hard to get me to be a nice, normal, simpering female, never mind that Mother wasn't even close to that. Finally Mom got me an apprenticeship with the thieves' guild, telling Dad that the only way to keep me out of some backwater jail was to see I was trained properly not to get caught. Thank the gods she saw reason. Dad came around eventually," she added with a grin.

Emily nodded, her eyes looking inwards. "I think," she said slowly, "you're both right." She looked up and seemed startled when she caught Daegon's eye. "What do you think?" she asked him suddenly.

"I think you need to learn to shoot a bow," Daegon said.

Bran declared a holiday, as the area seemed quiet for now and they had enough money to last them a few months if they wished. There was no need to move on and look for work yet. Everyone took time to train and restock their packs, then scattered to their own pursuits. Mendel retreated to his books and magic, Bran and Glenna simply disappeared, most likely together. It was an open secret they were a couple, though they had yet to admit it out loud. Fizzy and Dehn spent most of their time in whatever tavern took their fancy. Daegon usually preferred to spend his time in the woods, living off the land and getting away from the bustle of town. But this time, he hung around the tavern, because that was where Emily was.

"You seriously never considered becoming a ranger?" he asked her over breakfast.

"No, never," she took a sip of her tea, fending off Spike's devotion. The dog would nose at her hand whenever it strayed below table level. "Lay down, Spike!" The mutt obediently dropped to the floor, nose on paws, giving her such a sorrowful look that Daegon almost choked on his food from laughing. The cats had prudently stayed away, and there was no sign of mice or any other rodent.

"Well, I suppose you didn't have much opportunity to explore it," Daegon mused around his ham and eggs.

"No." Emmy chewed and swallowed, shrugging. "Even when I was adventuring with Glenn and Garrick and the rest, it never occurred to me to expand my training."

"Well, why would you?" Daegon grinned. "Clerics are never encouraged to change their profession." They chuckled together. "I'm sure Glenn and your husband were used to it, but didn't the rest of the party notice you were followed by furry critters a lot?"

"Not really. We had a ranger in the party, and he was very good. He did mention I seemed to attract animals, but he knew about my father and put it down to an inherited trait." She took another sip of tea. "Besides, I never did have any talent with a sword or bow."

"You sure about that?" Daegon pushed aside his empty plate and eyed her in a friendly yet challenging manner. "Has anyone really tried to teach you to shoot? Or swing a sword?"

"My husband," she said. "He said I had a good eye with a bow, but blades were not my forte. We didn't train much," she added with a shrug. "And then he was gone."

Daegon watched her face carefully, but there was no weepy self-pity in her eyes. "So, no," he teased gently.

"No," she agreed.

"I can fix that."

He took her to an armory and got her outfitted with a bow, quiver, vambrace and arrows, insisting on paying over her protests.

"Consider it a gift, after all I'm bullying you into this," he grinned and she scowled back.

"I don't like being bullied," she said stubbornly.

"And yet, you haven't walked away." She snapped her mouth shut at that, glaring. "Look, if this doesn't work out, I'll just sell them again. No big deal," he wheedled with his most charming smile.

"Oh, all right!"

Emmy still looked irked, and her tone was less than gracious. But she'd said yes. He ignored her attitude, exchanging a conspiratorial wink with the owner as he handed over the gold.

There was a practice yard behind the building, with pells and throwing targets. The archery butts were set up a fair distance past where various warriors sparred. He showed Emmy how to string her bow and hold it, then demonstrated how to aim and shoot. He hit the target dead center, Emmy watching carefully.

"Now you try," he invited with a theatrical swoop of his arm.

She took a deep breath and stood as he had shown her, drawing the bowstring back, bracing her left arm straight. He helpfully got behind her, adjusting her stance and moving her arms until she was perfectly positioned, trying to ignore how good she smelled. She trembled slightly. Daegon steadied his breathing and stepped back.

"Okay, you're good. Go for it."

She was a good student; the first arrow hit the target. She made a happy noise and tried again, Daegon refraining from touching her this time. He settled for simply giving her pointers as Emmy aimed again. She did even better, getting the arrow into the third ring, squealing with delight.

"Very good," Daegon approved, applauding. "Now try this."

He stood close behind her, setting his cheek next to hers, guiding her hands into perfect shooting position. "Sight your target," he said softly, his breath slow and easy. He was so close he could feel her heartbeat quicken, and hid a smile. "Draw back a little more...yes, perfect..." his hands were over hers, helping her grip bow and string. She smelled of musk and lavender, woods and sunshine. Daegon willed himself not to press his lips in the hollow behind her ear. He felt her tremble and stilled himself with an effort. "Relax...look down the arrow and see where you want it to go....up just a tiny bit...good....now just let go."

The arrow flew straight and true, and buried itself only slightly off dead center. The snap of the bowstring reverberated between them, and she turned her head to look at him, eyes wide with victory, just as he turned to look at her. Their lips were so close he could taste her breath, and without stopping to think, he kissed her.

Emmy's lips were soft and warm and tasted of the honey she put in her tea. He felt more than heard her gasp of surprise, but she didn't pull away, and he took the opening gladly, however small it was. He kissed her gently, tentatively, testing her response, and felt her sway toward him with a soft sigh. And then she kissed him back, and everything changed. Her scent rose in his nostrils, and he involuntarily growled low in his throat, his beast rising and sniffing the air. She backed away so quickly he almost overbalanced, and she stared at him, her eyes wide and startled. He knew his own weren't far off in expression, tinged with sudden lust and desire, and uncertainty bordering on fear. He never lost control like that, ever. Daegon hadn't a clue what to say, and waited for her to run. But then a coppery scent enveloped his senses as she moved, not away, but closer, invading his personal space, looking up into his eyes for a long moment.

"What are you?" she whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek with one soft hand. He was struck speechless when she rose on tiptoe and inhaled deeply. "You smell like..." her voice trailed off and she looked even more startled, sniffing again. "You smell a lot like Spike, but better, more.... she sniffed again. "Like you're mine," she said, her tone tinged with something close to wonder. "Why do you smell like that?"

"You tell me," he managed, his voice husky as her finger traced the line of his jaw. "Emmy, I..."

"Hush," she put a finger over his lips. "I'm thinking."

She smiled as he kissed her finger, but her eyes were inward. He could almost hear her heartbeat, and the ozone scent was nearly overwhelming, masking the musky sweetness that made him want to tear her robe off. She closed her eyes, breathing long and deep, and when she spoke, it was almost as if she were chanting a spell.

"I see you, and woods, and the moon, a hunter's moon. Then.... not a dog..." she mused to herself. She suddenly looked up at him, her eyes focused, her lips pursed. "Is it true?" she asked simply. He nodded slowly. "Oh. My. Gods." He braced himself for her censure and fear, but when he looked full into her face, it was shining with something he couldn't at first identify. Acceptance, and something more. Before he could process it, she rose on tiptoe, yanking his head down by simply grabbing the front of his tunic and tugging hard, and kissed him.

Completely taken off guard, he nearly stumbled with the force of her yank, but quickly recovered and wound his arms around her, hauling her mouth and scent as close as he could get them. She kissed with reckless abandon, her lips parting for his probing tongue, making small whimpering noises in her throat as his mouth fully possessed hers. She felt so right in his arms, she smelled so incredibly hot and sweet and his, his head swam from the scent of lust and Emmy. He forgot they were in a public practice yard, forgot that he never got involved with party members, forgot that he had vowed never to get too close. Hell, he forgot his own name. He pulled his mouth from hers, kissed down her throat and bit gently at the juncture of neck and shoulder, reveling as she shuddered and gasped. His hands slid up her sides, briefly gripped her shoulders, and rose to cup her face, his lips taking hers again in a long, slow dance of passion. A bark startled them both, and they leaped apart.

Several dogs had trotted up, unnoticed in the intensity of the moment, sniffing at Emmy's feet and whining. A few more were approaching, and she flushed deep red. Daegon looked around, catching most of the sparring fighters in the practice yard grinning at them before hastily going about their business. One of the mutts barked again, pawing at the hem of Emmy's robes and looking hopeful. Daegon made a low noise and the dogs scattered.

Daegon held out his hand and Emmy took it, still faintly rosy from kisses and emotion. He drew her closer and brushed his thumb over one cheekbone, bending to kiss her again, soft and brief and sweet. "Get your bow," he said quietly, letting her go reluctantly. "I want to show you something."

"What?" she asked, gathering up her brand new bow and quiver. She shivered at his touch when he helped her strap both to her back.

"All of me," he said, giving her a wicked smile. "Trust me?"

"Absolutely," she assured him, and grinned back.

There was a clearing deep in the woods that few knew about, with a pool fed by an underground stream. Daegon went there often, jealously guarding its location even from his party members. Well shielded by thick growths of bushes and trees, there was only a few paths leading into it that an experienced ranger could follow. Most didn't have his highly developed sense of smell and would miss the scent of fresh water, or rather the lichen growing in it, unless practically on top of the hidden grove. Since he had discovered it years ago, he had only detected an outsider's presence occasionally, and never come across anyone actually occupying the pool or grassy area surrounding the water. He didn't begrudge the few that had found this small oasis of calm, but was grateful that it remained relatively untouched. It was his sanctuary from the world, and he'd never shared it with anyone. Emmy stilled as she drank in the beauty of the small but deep pool, the lush grass and colorful wildflowers, the lazy bright butterflies flitting about, and unconsciously reached for his hand.