Amon the relatively-young Mummy, Bastenofret the were-cat priestess, and Countess Ellowyndriel Moonglow ap Dougal made their way out of the desert and found an inn to stay at for the night. Ellowyndriel insisted upon having her own room, and once inside, she removed all her hand-crafted Faery armor and began cleaning and polishing it. But she couldn't keep her mind on her work. She kept wondering what Amon was up to.
Finally she couldn't take the silence of her room any longer, hastily finished up with her armor, and decided to take her sword, metal-polishing kit, and whetstone downstairs where she could at least have the company of the other patrons...and perhaps...Amon...while she worked on her sword. She didn't know if he'd be down there because he seemed the type to keep to private places, but she had hope! She was still wearing her comfortable blouse and riding-pants with her long, ivory hair held up in a ponytail, but was too anxious to leave her room to waste time changing into something more appropriate for a countess.
Ellowyndriel hurried down the stairs, and then when she was in sight of the tavern tables, she quickly slowed her pace to appear casual and unhurried. When she spotted Amon sitting at a table in the corner by himself, her heart flipped over in excitement! If he would let her sit with him, maybe she could discover the reason he kept spurning her offers and advances! With all the casual, meaningless flirting she'd done over the years, she'd never actually DESIRED any of the men she'd flirted with! Even having endured nearly 600 years of a loveless and cold marriage to Count Loviander Moonglow-- bearing him two children-- she had never had an affair!
But this Amon...there was something so incredibly attractive about him! She didn't know why, but she wanted him! For the first time ever in her life, she felt that rosey glow of excitement whenever she thought about him or heard his name mentioned...that feeling she'd only ever heard her ladies-in-waiting describe! She tried twice now to seduce him using her Sovereign majesty-- the first time Amon had gotten angry, and the second time she'd discovered that he'd made warding-amulets to block her powers! But why?
Ellowyndriel put a self-conscious hand to her cheek and paused in mid-step. Did she look quite old to him, perhaps? 850 years was nothing to many Fae, but quite a lot to others...maybe her mortal seeming was hideous and she didn't realize it! She turned her head and gave a smile to one of the men gawking at her at a nearby table, and he almost tipped the table over trying to get up and bow to her as she passed. No, she wasn't hideous to mortals...but Amon wasn't mortal. Perhaps he could see her age as no mortal could! Ellowyndriel grew a little melancholy at this thought, but willed herself to slowly approach Amon's table, anyhow.
When she finally reached her destination, she noticed that Amon's eyes were down, staring almost fiercely at his glass. She cleared her throat nervously-- now why was SHE nervous! A powerful countess of Arcadia! Yet she was nervous! That thought unnerved her, as well.
"Amon...if it is not too much trouble to bother you for some company? My room was unbearably quiet! I only want to sharpen and polish my sword...have a drink or two...I...will not use any of my powers, and I apologize profusely for dishonoring your wishes earlier." Ellowyndriel kept her eyes down on the hilt of her sword. This was NO way for a countess to behave! She should be insisting he accept her company, and expect him to be overwhelmed with honor at her favor!
Amon heard a voice speak to him as he gazed into his drink. He blinked his eyes and looked up.
"Ah Ellowyndriel," he said and nodded to the opposite chair. "If you wish. I fear I will not be the best of company tonight."
He takes a drink and sets it back down.
Ellowyndriel raises her eyebrows, sets her sheathed sword and metal-working tools on the table and sits quickly, looking concerned.
"What is the matter, Amon?" she asks, clasping her hands in front of her to rest on the table.
A waitress-- noticing Ellowyndriel's stately bearing-- has already appeared at her side, and Ellowyndriel orders a white wine. The waitress gives a curtsy and disappears just as quickly as she appeared.
Amon waves his hand when the waitress looks to see if he wishes his drink to be topped off. He looks back at Ellowyndriel.
"I cannot help but think of...things," he looks up at the ceiling and sighs. "I am new to this. My life before was a quiet one, but now I am forced to do things I'd rather not." He drinks again and sets the cup down. He traces one of the carvings on the table with a finger absent-mindedly.
"I apologise. I am rambling. So, Ellowyndriel, where will you go after this?"
Ellowyndriel looks at Amon with increasing curiosity. "'Forced to do things I'd rather not?'" she ponders to herself. Her eyes focus on Amon again.
"I must return to Arcadia to let the King know that I have completed my task...avenged the deaths of my people of the Caernarfon, Wales Freehold."
Ellowyndriel has unconsciously clenched her hands so tightly that her nails are leaving imprints in her skin. The waitress' return startles her out of her angered reverie, and she thanks the waitress and takes a quick sip of the bitter white wine before continuing.
"But I have never been this far east in the mortal world, and think I would like to travel back to Wales the long way, rather than through the Dreaming. It will be good to see my children again, but they do not need me so much these days...my husband has not needed me in hundreds of years...I could use a little site-seeing. Goddess knows Loviander always takes his precious time on his missions."
Ellowyndriel sighs and takes another swallow of her wine.
"What about you, Amon? Where will you go now?"
Amon shrugs and motions for his drink to be refilled. He takes a healthy swig leaving the cup empty. "I do not know. I have quite a bit of time before the next...time. Perhaps I shall travel a bit and see the world," Amon stops and considers. "Yes that is what I shall do."
Ellowyndriel suddenly feels a flash of excitement. He might...he could...it's very possible...but after what she tried earlier? Hmmm.
"Amon..." Ellowyndriel begins, running her finger around the lip of her glass, and feeling a pang of disappointment when the glass doesn't sing like her good crystal does when she runs a wet finger around the edge.
"...an idea has just come to me. It would not be proper for me to travel alone. Not that I could not take care of myself, of course..." she lowers her eyebrows and nods at Amon as if that idea were preposterous.
"...but a lady should always travel in the company of a gentleman. Properness aside, travelling is always more enjoyable when done with someone else. What do you say, good Amon? Would you accept me as a travelling-companion? We could slowly make our way in the direction of Wales, and see the sites along the way."
Ellowyndriel tries to keep the excitement out of her voice and make the proposal sound more like a convenient idea so as to not scare Amon off.
Amon raises an eyebrow at her for a moment and watches as the waitress comes by and fills his drink. He takes another drink and looks at her, studying her.
"Perhaps...perhaps if you would vow not to try that power upon me again." He looks into her eyes with a fierce look. "I did not care for it."
Ellowyndriel watches with concern as Amon continues accepting more and more alcohol, and doesn't notice the waitress topping of her own wine.
"I offer my most-humble apologies for doing that, Amon." Ellowyndriel gazes up at the ceiling.
"As a countess, I am used to getting my way, and I grew...petulant when you refused me."
Ellowyndriel looks back at Amon. "Why DID you refuse me? Do you find me unattractive? Do you dislike my character? Whatever it is, do let me know. My mind will conjure up many reasons in the unknowing of the real reason!"
Amon sighs and sits back, taking another drink.
"I have...someone waiting for me at the end of all of this. I must get back to her." he says taking another sip. He puts the glass down a little clumsily this time and gazes back at her.
"You understand?"
Ellowyndriel feels a stab of pain shoot through her heart, and the room seems to unfocus for a moment. She hastily grabs her glass of wine and takes a generous gulp from it.
"Is this...your wife? The one who was killed hundreds of years ago?" Ellowyndriel's voice is low and quiet, and a little husky from the drink. She thinks about how lucky this woman is, and wonders why her own luck in love was-- IS-- so bad.
Amon nods and leans his head on his crossed forearms. He stares at the candle on the table for a moment.
"Yes...Issa is waiting for me." he says and his eyes begin to mist up. He blinks hard then looks at her.
"You have your husband waiting for you as well. A few hundred years in your lifetime must seem small."
Ellowyndriel suddenly laughs a loud and bitter-sounding laugh. "Waiting for me??" She laughs loudly again, and her eyes grow hard. "He has never waited for me-- not even on our wedding-night! We had the obligatory witnesses watch to make sure the marriage was consummated, and then he was off again on business! When I did not get pregnant for 50 years, he finally consulted a royal midwife who calculatd the exact time-- down to the minute-- when he would have to be with me to create a child so as to not waste his precious time! I do not know why I have been cursed with an arranged marriage such as this, but I have found my ways to cope with it!"
Ellowyndriel takes her sword out of its sheath angrily, grabs her whetstone, and begins sharpening the edges with violent strokes. In her haze of anger, she ponders that maybe she should stay away from the alcohol as it keeps magickally-appearing in her glass, and she's becoming undignifiably irrate.
"How long do you have to wait before you can see her again, then? And is there some rule stating you must remain celebate until that time?" Ellowyndriel's voice is full of spite, even though she tried to calm herself.
Amon looks up at her with half-lidded eyes.
"I did not mean to bring up any bad memories for you. If he is so cold to you, why do you stay with him? Why not leave him to find another?"
He looks back down at the table and sits back putting his feet on the table.
"And yes, there is a rule. My rule."
Ellowyndriel pauses in mid-stroke and narrows her eyes at Amon.
"I think we understand one another well, then, would you not say? Foolish for me to stay with Loviander...foolish for you to impose your celebacy-rule! The only difference is that where *I* come from, leaving your husband is just not done. Everyone expects that I have been entertaining myself covertly, and I let them think what they will." Ellowyndriel is about to go on...to hammer her wrath down upon Amon for illogically refusing her, but he looks like one more drink will send him into oblivion, and so she stays her tongue and concentrates on the edge of her sword. A moment passes, and she finds she cannot stay silent any longer.
"I believe you stated that you have been a Mummy for 500 years or so, is that right? And in all that time you have remained faithful to Issa? And you will continue to remain faithful to her for hundreds of years more, if need be? How have you done this?" Ellowyndriel suddenly realizes that she's done just about the same thing, herself, only in loyalty to a man who probably doesn't even miss her when he's gone for months.
Amon shrugs and takes another drink emptying the glass. He sets it back down.
"I have yet to meet a woman I would...share a bed with. No offence," he says waving a hand. "I will continue to remain faithful," he says looking into her eyes, "Even should I find someone I would consider."
Ellowyndriel's eyes take on a hurt and angry look because all she can hear echoing in her head is 'I have yet to meet a woman I would share a bed with.' She quickly bends back down over her work so Amon won't see the tears forming in her eyes. She remains silent as she places the whetstone back in the bag, and retrieves her cloth and polish. Wordlessly she begins to polish her sword. She named it Petrus' Fist, and it has the ability to turn living tissue into stone. She wonders if she should plunge it into her heart to turn that useless organ to stone so this aching will stop.
She sighs, and the tears threaten to spill over. Lately she has been so painfully depressed-- perhaps she's over-stayed her time in the mortal realm. Nothing is beautiful and breath-taking as it was when she was younger. In those days, a simple ball or wild hunt would keep her ecstatic for weeks! Her children were her light and her joy! Now her daughter has taken to representing the family at court, as Ellowyndriel and Loviander have increasingly found excuses to travel in the Dreaming or mortal world. And her son has taken to drinking and breaking women's hearts. She knows this is because he grew up feeling his mother's pain and doesn't want to end up in a loveless marriage, himself, and she hurts for the example she's set for her children.
She stops her polishing and looks back at Amon. "Did you have any children, Amon?"
Amon shakes his head. He looks at his empty glass and thinks a moment.
"Yes, a son...she was pregnant when she...when she was gone. I...no." He says and waves the waitress over. He hands her his glass.
"Something stronger if you would." Amon takes his feet from the table and leans forward.
"Do you have children?"
Ellowyndriel looks sadly at Amon. Perhaps she's being too selfish. Hundreds of years alone...a son who's surely dead by now...a child who he never knew...Ellowyndriel's life suddenly seems much less painful than his. Except that he knew real Love. She smiles a little and rests the hand holding the cloth on her arm.
"I have a daughter Gwendolyn and a son Corrander. Gwendolyn is truly a gift. She is very responsible...a loving and obedient daughter. She resembles me so closely that we are often mistaken for twins." Ellowyndriel laughs a quiet laugh.
"Corrander is a handsome boy...no, man now. All the ladies of the court adore him, but I fear he will remain a bachelor. I believe he hates his father. Neither child is interested in marriage..."
Ellowyndriel realizes that she's becoming negative again, and stops to re-group.
"I should like to hear about your life-- how you and Issa met...what your lives were like...how you became a Mummy. I do not know much about Mummies, but if you will have me as a travelling-companion-- as I am swearing now to honor your Rule-- I am sure that I will learn much."
The waitress arrives with a fresh drink and hands it to Amon. He drinks the whole thing down and looks at her with bloodshot eyes.
"Perhaps I'll tell you sometime...I..." he puts a hand to his head.
"I need to go to my room." He stands wobbily and takes a step, nearly falling.
Ellowyndriel sees a kindred spirit in Amon...someone who may be as depressed and prone to escapism as she is...if not more. She quickly stands and grabs Amon's arm with one hand-- feeling electricity go through her at the mere touch of his skin-- and then slings his arm around her shoulders. She closes her eyes for a quick second-- relishing this moment of innocent closeness-- and then sheathes her sword and puts the polishing-tools back in the bag, putting both items under her free arm.
"All right, Amon, we shall take it slowly. Just lean on me." Ellowyndriel drops some coins on the table before they go-- enough to cover all the drinks and leave a generous tip-- and then she walks Amon awkwardly up the stairs. She wishes the disappointed stares from the men at the nearest table were justified, but she's just being a good friend.
They make it into Amon's room, where Ellowyndriel helps him sit on the bed.
"No, no-- do not lay down yet. You must drink this glass of water or you will be in no state to travel tomorrow." Ellowyndriel hands him the glass of water on the nightstand, and makes sure he drinks it all before taking it back from him.
"All right, Amon. I wish you a good night, and will see you on the morrow." Ellowyndriel quickly leaves the room and closes the door, pressing her back against it for a moment. Not fair...not fair. The tears start up again, and she quickly disappears into her room.