The Pain of Betrayal
Written by Raefanel
Under the canopy of a starlit night, Jostle sat watching his holt-mates as they celebrated the birth of their newest member. It was a joyous time for everyone. Dreamberry wine flowed freely, exuberant dancing mingled with the boisterous music, and loving pairs (and even threesomes) silently crept into the concealing night to celebrate in their own private way. Wheatfrost nestled in his arms, completing the feeling of serenity and happiness which infused the whole holt.
**(Beloved,)** he sent, **(What�s going through your mind tonight?)**
Wheatfrost shook her head and sighed. The rustle of her curly hair rasped lightly in his ear, while it�s pale blond colour radiated an aura of moonglow in imitation of the orb high overhead. She closed her eyes slowly, leaning more heavily into Jostle�s chest.
**(I just wish�)** her thought trailed off. How could she tell him? It was selfish and utterly inappropriate to mention during these festive times.
**(You wish what?)** He gently prodded her.
In the twenty turns he and Wheatfrost had been lovemates, he knew it was best to go gently with her. She had deep-rooted fears of losing those she loved. Probably from being orphaned at an early age. At 241 turns, she was much older than Jostle himself, so he�d only heard stories of her troubled kitten-hood. Of those stories, none of them were pleasant, and all were told by elves other than Wheatfrost. She never talked about it herself.
Silence was Wheatfrost�s only reply. She was turned inward again, he could tell, thinking things that only she could understand.
When Jostle had first started courting Wheatfrost, he�d tried to get her to open up completely to him. He knew his inexperience at life (he was, after all, nearly 200 years her junior) was partly the reason she would not confide in him, but he thought there were other, more hidden reasons. His time with her only confirmed that something deep inside her made her afraid of sharing her emotions with him. Many of the elves in the holt thought she was emotionless, but Jostle had caught glimpses that told him the opposite was probably true. If only she would open up and trust those emotions, she would be passionate indeed.
But tonight, apparently, would not be the time for her to break down the barriers between her heart and soul. Jostle sighed and hugged her closer, brushing his lips against her ear in a silent, sharing benediction. He had already waited twenty turns. He would wait twenty more, if the end result would be that she trusted him enough to let herself open up to him completely.
Taking a risk that she would be receptive to another attempt to find out what she wished, Jostle sent, **(If it�s within my ability, I will do whatever it is you wish.)** He kept his tone lighthearted in an effort not to scare her into even deeper silence and withdrawal. It had happened more than once before.
This time, Jostle was lucky. Instead of retreating further into herself, she turned around to face him. The flickering flames from the bonfire cast her face in shadow, but his super-dilated cat�s eyes caught the barest starlight-reflected sheen of wetness glazing her eyes. **(I want�)** her send broke and she melted into his chest, going limp and soft, so unlike her normally rigid demeanor. Her shoulders shook gently. She was crying. Jostle had never known Wheatfrost to cry.
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Four turns ago, they�d been out with a hunting party following the trail of some tusk-snouts, when they�d stumbled upon a family of the creatures trapped at the edge of a river. With nowhere else to go, the largest male tusk-snout had charged directly at their group, whipping his head back and forth to do maximum damage with its long, sharp tusks. Many a cheetah and lion had gone down during that charge, including Wheatfrost�s bond.
Most of the elves had been able to jump clear of their wounded felines, but Wheatfrost had been trapped beneath her cheetah�s body. Seeing the elf down, the tusk-snout had turned in an arc and come back in for the kill.
Jostle, his heart in his throat, had known he was too far away to get there in time, so he�d thrown his spear, intent at least on slowing the beast down. Luck and desperation, more than skill, had guided his spear true, and it pierced the heart of the tusk-snout. Unfortunately, the momentum of the giant beast had carried it forward, impaling its tusk in Wheatfrost�s thigh. Such were the death throes of the animal, that the tip of the tusk had exited her leg on the opposite side and had entered into her dead bond-beast.
Time had stopped in Jostle�s mind. All he had been able to see was his lovemate lying motionless, impaled on the beast�s tusk. In a blur, he�d raced to her side, to find her alive, awake, and cursing the dead beast pinning her to her bond�s carcass. She�d never cried. Not in pain as they extricated her from the tusk, nor in memory of her faithful bond of 7 turns passing away. Instead, she had glared at the dead tusk-snout, her amber eyes going crystalline with icy hatred.
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Jostle came back from his memories to the present moment in a dazed kind of shock. Whatever had made Wheatfrost cry had to be important. Hope kindled in him that she was finally breaking down the emotional walls that still lay between them.
Stroking her back gently, slowly, he sent, **(There is nothing you could want that I won�t give you.)** His vow, though impetuous, was nonetheless fierce in its truthfulness.
The trembling of her shoulders lessened slowly until finally she was still against his chest, her face still buried in his vest. Hesitantly, softly, she sent, **(I want to know a love so complete that only death can sunder it. I want to create life. I want a kitling of my own.)**
So filled with despair were her words that Jostle could not immediately separate the words from the emotions. When he could, however, his chest tightened in pain. His breath came short and quick. Her words, though heartfelt and never intending to hurt him, cut him worse than any knife could.
Choking his reply, he sent, **(If you asked for the moon, or the stars, I would not stop until I found a way to get them for you. But this�this is something I could search my whole life and never find for you. What you ask for is Recognition. Not even the High Ones can predict who will meet soul to soul.)**
He held her tighter while tears poured from his own eyes. **(Am I not love enough for you, dear heart? Have I not proven through the years that the love I bear you is strong enough to survive even death? Do you doubt my feelings so much that you feel the need to have another in your life that I must share you with?)**
Doubt crept into Jostle at that point. Had she already found another, someone who could give her a kit? Dread wrapped itself around his soul and squeezed mercilessly.
Wheatfrost, now composed, answered Jostle with no hint of her previous dismay. Calm, calculated precision came through her sending. **(No my love, I do not doubt your feelings, and I�ve found no other. There is incompleteness inside me. Do not ask how I know it, but it is true what I say�a kit will fill this void inside me. A kit, and no other.)** With that pronouncement, she gracefully rose from her place between his legs and turned to offer him a hand up as well.
**(Join me if you�d like. Or not, it is your choice.)** Gone was the teary-eyed, vulnerable Wheatfrost. Facing him was the elf Jostle was familiar with.
Trying to compose himself just as quickly as she had, he accepted her hand but said nothing. Rising to his feet, Jostle started back towards the father tree. Forcing a gaiety he did not feel, Jostle teased, **Shall we practice making a kitling, heart of my heart?**
**Indeed,** was her emotionless reply.
Their joining that night was frantic in its physical outlet, but emotionally void of meaning. Jostle lay awake afterwards, listening to Wheatfrost�s breathing eventually slow into the deep measured pace of sleep.
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Jostle was up early the next morning, careful not to wake Wheatfrost as he left their den. He needed to talk to someone older and more experienced than himself.
Just at that moment, his much younger brother, Firegaze, came bounding along the tree limb behind him. Pouncing onto Jostle�s shoulders, he clung tightly with both arms and wrapped his legs around Jostle�s waist. Firegaze mock-growled, "What puts you in such a grumpy mood this beautiful morning?"
Jostle, not even pausing under the onslaught, continued his stroll. At 16 turns his brother was slight and willowy, just beginning to show signs of the adulthood soon to be upon him. He was, however, very much in touch with his cat side. If it weren�t for the calculating way his brother could puzzle things out, Jostle would swear he was a throw-back.
Still clinging to his brother, Firegaze purred knowingly, "Not getting any action in the furs with your ice-elfess?"
Jostle stopped dead in his tracks. "You�ve gone too far this time, Firegaze. Apologize. Now."
Dismounting from his brother�s back, Firegaze laughingly dodged away. Jostle made no attempt to chase him, but stood rigidly still, hands balled into fists and shaking at his side.
"Come on, brother, it was meant in jest. She is beautiful, even if she is the emotional equivalent of a frozen river. I can see why you would want to roll in her furs." Firegaze was dancing around Jostle, taunting him.
Perilously close to losing control of his temper, Jostle gave his brother one more chance, **(You will cease discussing my love life or I will make it impossible for you to discuss anything ever again!)** He sent an image of himself cutting out Firegaze�s tongue�and enjoying it.
Instantly, Firegaze sobered. **(No need to be violent, Jostle. You need to lighten up.)** He wanted to add that the brother he�d idolized growing up had slowly changed from a strong, free spirit into a fawning pup, trailing after Wheatfrost in the hopes of the occasional emotional bone. Wisely, he kept these last thoughts to himself.
Like the cats of the pride, Firegaze was able to go from serious to playful without blinking. He did so now, attempting to alleviate the somber mood.
"Where are you off to? A hunt? The River? Can I go, too?" He asked.
Slowly uncoiling the tension within him, Jostle replied, "No, I don�t think so, ~cub~." He purposely emphasized the diminutive to hurt the youngling�s pride. It was petty, but his mood demanded it.
As expected, Firegaze�s exuberance deflated upon being called a cub. His emerald green eyes peaked sullenly out from behind his thick swath of straight, red hair. "I�m old enough to do anything you do," he said.
At that, Jostle had to let out a barking laugh. "Hardly," he retorted.
Still Jostle�s mood had been lightened, and he felt a bit better. He was able to put aside the anger of moments ago.
"I want to talk with Dreamfog," Jostle finally answered Firegaze�s original question.
Youthful spirits being resilient, Firegaze�s renewed interest betrayed none of his earlier sulkiness. "What do you want to see that crotchety mumbler for?" He asked, excitement tingeing his voice again.
Jostle continued through the tree branches, making his way towards the elder�s den. "She is not crotchety, she just hasn�t time to listen to idle kitling prattle," Jostle smiled. He�d thought the same when he was younger, but a bit of age had mellowed his opinion of the tribe�s dreamweaver. He�d even toyed with the idea of asking her to show him how to read the waking dreams through dreamberries, but something always stopped him.
Jostle continued, "Not that you�d respect such a thing, being so young, but I�ve a need to ask her about Recognition."
Firegaze, not at all interested, but lacking anything better to do, asked, "Mind if I come along?"
Indulgently, Jostle nodded. "But be quiet. This is serious." He warned.
Outside the Dreamweaver�s den, Jostle called respectfully, "Dreamfog?" He waited a few seconds, then continued, "I hate to bother you so early, but I have an important question to ask you." The two male elves waited patiently, hearing slight rustling noises come from within the den.
A few moments later, Dreamfog appeared at the door. She had a stern look on her round face, accentuated by the wild jumble of the chestnut hair framing it. Her sapphire blue eyes sparkled with keen intelligence and razor sharp wit. Her movements, though slow, were still contained within a graceful, lithe body. The only indication of her incredible age was the white tips of her unruly hair.
Glaring at first Jostle, then Firegaze, Dreamfog finally nodded them both inside.
"Recognition," was the only word she said. She waited for them to settle themselves.
Jostle did so slowly, trying to cover his shock. "How did you know what I came here for?" he asked Dreamfog.
"It is heavy in the air. How could one not want to talk of it?" She asked, cryptic as always.
Instead of trying to tie her random words into some semblance of order, Jostle decided to start the conversation over, "Wheatfrost wants a cub. I want to give her one. Is there any way to force Recognition?"
With a shrewd gaze, Dreamfog stared at Jostle. "Blunt questions deserve blunt answers." She paused. "There have been stories of forced recognition, but they always involved healers and great sacrifice. But you don�t truly want to know the methods of forcing Recognition, do you? You want to know if you will Recognize Wheatfrost."
Gazing at Jostle, but appearing to look through him, Dreamfog�s eyes, normally sharp and focused, took on a hazy quality. "Wheatfrost will soon recognize. She will have her cub." Turning slowly, Dreamfog turned her attention to Firegaze. Eyes still unfocused, she asked, "What do you want to know?"
Firegaze, taken aback, stammered, "N..nothing." With an apologetic shrug to Jostle, he quickly got up and left. **She�s too creepy to talk to, brother. I wish you luck.** Firegaze sent over his shoulder.
Alone with Dreamfog, Jostle was elated to hear that Wheatfrost would soon get her wish, but he also knew that Dreamfog�s visions were not always what they seemed on the surface.
Needing clarification, Jostle asked, "It will be me who Recognizes Wheatfrost, right?"
Returning her unfocused gaze to Jostle, Dreamfog said, "You will Recognize when you know your soulname."
"How..?" Jostle couldn�t finish his question. He had never known his soulname, not as he knew the other elves did. But it wasn�t something he�d ever told anyone about. How could Dreamfog possibly know that he didn�t know his own soulname? But then, he thought, how did she know any of the things that she did? He wouldn�t waste time figuring it out. As long as Jostle had been alive, and longer, if the stories were true, Dreamfog had never been wrong.
Refocusing her eyes, Dreamfog once again shrewdly eyed Jostle up and down. "That�s as much as I can tell you," With a waving motion of her hand, she said, "Be gone."
Aware that lingering in Dreamfog�s den was not a good thing, Jostle hastened to obey. Walking slowly along the tree branches, he wondered where his brother had gotten to. (He must have been truly scared by Dreamfog, otherwise he�d be pestering me to find out what she said,) he thought.
During his walk back, he had come to a decision--he knew what he had to do. But now, upon reaching his den and looking down at Wheatfrost laying among the furs, he knew it could wait a few more hours. Stripping, he nestled next to his lovemate and fell back asleep.
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Jostle awoke to the feeling of something tickling his nose. Cracking his eyes open the merest bit, he saw Wheatfrost leaning over him, a lock of her hair brushing against his face.
"Good morning, sleepy head," she greeted him with a kiss and a smile. Gone was the vulnerable Wheatfrost of the night before, as was the cold, emotionless Wheatfrost. In their place was the elfess he had come to know and love. Light-hearted and beautiful, Wheatfrost lit up the whole den with her presence. Jostle wished the rest of the holt could see her like this. But alas, it was only in private, and on rare occasions such as this, that she would relax and be herself.
"You�re in a good mood," he murmured, trying to draw her back down into an embrace.
"Something wonderful is going to happen, I just know it!" she said, beaming.
Jostle wondered if somehow Dreamfog had come for a visit while he slept, but dismissed the thought as quickly as it appeared. Wheatfrost was probably picking up on his own happy mood.
Kissing her as she snuggled closer to his chest, Jostle sent, **You are right, beloved. I went to see Dreamfog this morning, and your wish is to be fulfilled. She said that we are going to have a kitten soon!** His happiness and utter love for her wove itself through the sending.
Pulling back from him to look straight at his eyes, Wheatfrost replied, **A kitten of our very own?** Unfettered joy pulsed back at him through her send as she gazed at him in awe-struck wonder.
He smiled at her joy and touched her cheek. **Yes, soon. Dreamfog said soon. We will start a family and be together forever. That is, if you will do me the honour of becoming my lifemate?**
Tears, this time of happiness, streamed down Wheatfrost�s face as she wrapped her arms around Jostle. **Oh, yes, beloved, oh yes.**
Jostle felt Wheatfrost�s breasts rub against him, igniting a fiery heat that could not be denied. Kissing her passionately, he joined with her as the morning sun filtered into the den.
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Laying together afterwards, Jostle held Wheatfrost close, enjoying the rightness of the moment. Not wanting to disturb their peace, but knowing that he�d have to, he said, "I will have to leave for a little while."
Drowsy with sated pleasure, Wheatfrost barely stirred. Her tone was more curious than concerned. "Why?"
"Dreamfog told me I have to find my soulname before we can Recognize. I�ll have to go out by myself to find it. I shouldn�t be gone too long."
"Well, hurry back, I don�t want to wait too long before we make a kitling." She smiled in anticipation.
"With such an enchanting creature to return to, how could I possibly want to take a long time?" he teased. Everything was right in the world.
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A few days later and Jostle was no closer to finding his soulname than when he�d left the holt. Frustration and impatience had set in over the last few hours, making it incredibly hard to concentrate. He went over in his mind every tale he�d heard about soulname quests, and most of them were similar. They all involved the questing elf to struggle emotionally, physically and spiritually, until they were whittled down to their essential core. That�s when the soulname would emerge.
The day was sunny and bright and there were no dangers in sight or smell--not exactly the most dire of circumstances to find oneself in. He had plenty of food, and even if he ran out game was plentiful quite a few days ride out of the holt. He�d left his bond beast back at the holt for less distraction and more hardship, but sore feet could hardly be considered physical pain.
At last, fed up, he decided to meditate and pulled out a stash of dried dream berries he�d brought along "just in case". Throwing himself to the ground, Jostle arranged his packs around him comfortably and started snacking on the dreamberries. Sometimes he experienced strange things when he chewed dried dreamberries. Perhaps today he�d hear his soulname.
Minutes dragged by. Insects buzzed by. Clouds brushed by overhead. Still nothing.
Slapping his hand against the ground, Jostle snarled to himself, "Enough.This is foolishness."
Rising quickly, he shouldered his packs and turned back in the direction of the holt. If he walked fast, he'd be back within a day and a half.Whistling a jaunty tune, Jostle felt sure this was the right path for him to take. After all, Dreamfog had said that he would Recognize when he knew his soul name, right? Well, by his reckoning, when Wheatfrost and he Recognized, she'd hear his soul name, then she'd tell him what it was. At that point, he'd know his soul name, and he and Wheatfrost would make a kitten together. It all made perfect sense.
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Footsore but happy, Jostle limped into the holt two days later. It was midday, so he didn't expect many elves to be about. Those who weren't sleeping the hottest part of the day away, were no doubt busy keeping cool down at the river. This suited him just fine. He didn't really want to run into anyone else anyway. The sooner he made it to Wheatfrost's side, the sooner they could Recognize.
Jostle started up the tree so quickly that he immediately lost his grip and almost tumbled back to the ground. Heart pounding and hands sweating, he took a few deep breaths to calm himself. As much as he wanted to reach Wheatfrost's side quickly, it wasn't worth a possible tumble and never reaching her side at all. Getting a grip on himself, Jostle started climbing again, this time slower.
Nearing their den, Jostle contemplated whether he wanted to surprise his lifemate loudly or quietly. In the end, he decided that if she were sleeping, he'd just sneak in beside her and seduce her gently. Course set, Jostle peeked into the den. One cream coloured leg and her signature curly, pale blond hair told him that she was, indeed sleeping.
Resting his packs just inside the den's entrance, Jostle slithered into the furs next to his lady love. Nuzzling her neck, he slid his arm around her body, only to encounter more flesh under the furs than her slight frame could account for.
"What the...." Jostle said, flinging the covers off his lifemate.
What he revealed sickened him. His lifemate and his brother, barely old enough to be playing at fur-games, lay naked, limbs entwined in a lover's embrace. Both of them were awake now, trying to shake the sleep fog from their minds.
Trembling with suppressed rage, Jostle could only send, **ONLY GONE FOR A HAND OF DAYS AND ALREADY YOU REPLACE ME? AND WITH MY BROTHER?**
Unable to contain his anger, Jostle threw the furs aside and stalked out of the den. If he didn't leave, he knew he'd hurt someone, probably both of them. He had enough control over his cat side at the moment to know that as wrong as they were to betray him, that would be more wrong still.
**Jostle, wait...** Wheatfrost called from within the den.
**LEAVE ME ALONE,** he sent back furiously.
A void had opened up inside him. His chest burned like he was on fire. His mind screamed in pain and denial. This couldn't be happening. It was a dream. He was still out in the plains meditating with dreamberries. Soon, he'd wake up and this would all be forgotten.
Jostle didn't pay attention to where he went. He just let his legs walk. Eventually, he found himself on the meeting branch, which was empty. Sinking down to his knees, he finally let go of his grief. Face turned to the sky, eyes closed, he let the tears flow unashamed.
Moments later, he felt someone behind him. Without turning, he knew it was Wheatfrost.
**(Jostle, we had no choice,)** her soft sending cut at his very soul. It was full of compassion and warmth and love and everything, EVERYTHING, he'd always wanted to feel from her. But he knew it wasn't because of him. It was because of his brother, Firegaze. That realization hurt more than seeing them together had.
He said nothing, only kept his back rigidly straight and his eyes focused before him. Wheatfrost walked around, until she was standing before him. Kneeling, she tried to get him to look her in the eyes. Her own eyes contained pain as well, but it was muted--eclipsed by the joy she felt at creating new life.
**(It was Recognition, Jostle, just as you said would happen,)** she sent. Her radiant happiness came through as well as the words, and that only made his pain more unbearable.
Finally, Wheatfrost's elation dimmed as she realized the depth of his hurt. **(We didn't mean for it to happen. Your brother.....)**
Snarling, Jostle cut her off. **(I HAVE NO BROTHER)** he screamed into her mind.
The force of the sending took Wheatfrost aback. **(Lifemate, please...)** Her tone begged forgiveness and acceptance.
Jostle could give her neither. With deadly quiet, he sent **(Never call me that again. You are not my lifemate.)**
Standing up before his former love, Jostle's cold, hard stare made Wheatfrost cringe. Wrapping her arms around her belly as if to protect the kitling newly planted there, she cowered before the wrath of the only elf she'd ever truly loved.
For one moment, he was tempted to strike out at her, to make her feel the pain he was feeling. But he knew that no matter how many times he would hit her, no matter how hard, it would be but a fraction of the pain she'd caused him. He told himself that this was the only reason he walked away. But deep in his heart, a small part of himself admitted he could never hurt her. He loved her still.
Jostle returned to his den to find it blessedly empty. Grabbing his bags from their resting place at the entrance, he climbed down to ground. His bond was waiting for him, ready to spirit him away from the holt--from his pain.
Riding away from the only home he'd ever known, Jostle knew it would be a long time, if ever, before he would return.
The end