From: bekacavish@aol.com (BekaCavish)
Date: 10 May 1998 14:37:37 EDT
Should have...
The trip should have been one she made with her husband to celebrate
the ending of the war. Beneath the hundred candles that graced the
ancient chandliers within that stately hall, filled with royality and military
members of her homeland is where she and Rand should have danced
until the dawn.
She had seen the Queen before at a distance when she was initated
into the calvary and she had been awed by the prescence the woman had
then. The Queen had spent nearly two hours speaking with her after
dinner about matters of policy, ideals and the state of the land and for the
life of her, Beka could not muster any type of emotion.
She tried to maintain a dignified front, she thought Rand would have
laughed to see her stay so serious so long. She could tell that others
were uncomfortable around her. What do you say to a woman, a girl,
that was married, widowed and named the Protectorate of her late-husbands
lands within the span of a few short months? She simply didn't have the
energy to expend on making them feel more comfortable.
Thankfully the ceremony was short and she escaped to her room early
on in the evening. She stood out on the balcony overlooking the gardens
for nearly an hour. Her arms wrapped around her waist as she leaned
against the cold parapet. Her eyes shut to the world as she breathed in
the nights' aromas. The wind kissed her cheeks with the promise of rain
and for a brief moment... she nearly thought she heard Rands' voice.
"My love...", her softly whispered words spoke to the currents in the
hopes that somehow, someway her heartfelt cry would be heard by the
one she desired.
Beneath her balcony, weaved in the shadows of the branches of a
great willow tree, a figure moved. Someone heard the words, but as the
form parted from the truck of the ancient tree, the low chuckle was not
one that echoed of love... not even by the furthest stretch of the imagination
and that was exactly how he wanted it.
Rising from the Ashes of Sorrow(Beka)
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From: bekacavish@aol.com (BekaCavish)
Date: 10 May 1998 14:43:05 EDT
Half a year... half a life:
A fine sheen of sweat dotted her forehead; she wiped her arm across,the
dark fabric of the uniform greedily soaking up the perspiration. Dismounting,
she handed the reigns to Drantel, he was a fine lad and he took special care
of Mydknight for her.
Her long, coppery hair was mostly held within the confines of a holder,
although quite a few strands had made good upon their escape and had fallen
to frame her freckled face. Her jacket was half unbuttoned, her boots held a
fine layer of dust from her travels and she still appeared in a better state than
she felt.
Tommorrow was the day they performed the memorial. It seemed a barbaric
thing to do to her, to put her through, as though she hadn't suffered enough.
Evan approached her, his firm, sure strides taking him across the courtyard in
a short span of time.
"M'lady, do you like me? Do you have any caring for me in the least?",
his tone imploring as his expression, a pile of papers tucked carefully beneath
his arm as he bowed to her.
"Evan, must you be so dramatic. By Illior's light, you know I love you.",
she brushed her hands down the front of her jacket, suddenly aware of
her disheveled condition.
Everything was happening too fast. It was the six month mark of Rand's
death and here in his homeland, that was observed by giving a "final farewell"
in the form of ceremony. Trade agreements with the tribes of the Cuan na'Ilaia
were being ironed out; the Chieftain of the tribes, Byran Yullagolth was a
draining event.
And then there was Will. Best not to linger upon that too long, he was
friendly and there was something about him that illicited trust from her, but
that was it. Her heart felt wrapped in cotton and tucked away, unreachable
except through pain.
She sighed and Evan stopped her with a hand upon her arm, "You've not
heard a word I've said, have you?" , the concern in his gaze and tone evident.
"I'm tired Evan, I spent all day riding and training. I have read the texts and
notes you've left me on the ritual for tommorrow, can everything else wait?",
she felt weighed down, the only spot of brightness her clandestine meetings
with Will. Alright, so more accidental meetings, but they held an air of secrecy
for her.
Evan fretted over his lady, he knew of her trips to the town of Rhydin and
approved for the most part; she was young and shouldn't frown nearly so much
as she was prone to do when moping around the castle. He had seen her move
from a vibrant ray of innocence and strike a sullen wall of mourning that he feared
she would not survive; to see her finally begin to re-emerge brought him hope.
"M'lady, all but you breaking your fast can wait. You will eat then relax as
you will.", as he spoke, he realized he sounded like a mother hen; no matter,
she was too thin and he would not have her fall ill.
She smiled and for all the world Evan nearly could not contain his heart-felt
sigh of relief, "As you wish, m'lord Evan. I shall eat then promptly relax. You
see, by Illior, I listen to you sometimes."
She laughed lightly, not much, but the sound was a welcomed musical
symphony to Evan. Yes, these trips to Rhydin were something he definitely
approved of, although that did not mean that he was going to call off the guards
he had shadowing his lady. He would not allow a mistake to leave his country
bereft of her guidance and her care.
Date: 10 May 1998 14:43:05 EDT
Half a year... half a life:
A fine sheen of sweat dotted her forehead; she wiped her arm across,the
dark fabric of the uniform greedily soaking up the perspiration. Dismounting,
she handed the reigns to Drantel, he was a fine lad and he took special care
of Mydknight for her.
Her long, coppery hair was mostly held within the confines of a holder,
although quite a few strands had made good upon their escape and had fallen
to frame her freckled face. Her jacket was half unbuttoned, her boots held a
fine layer of dust from her travels and she still appeared in a better state than
she felt.
Tommorrow was the day they performed the memorial. It seemed a barbaric
thing to do to her, to put her through, as though she hadn't suffered enough.
Evan approached her, his firm, sure strides taking him across the courtyard in
a short span of time.
"M'lady, do you like me? Do you have any caring for me in the least?",
his tone imploring as his expression, a pile of papers tucked carefully beneath
his arm as he bowed to her.
"Evan, must you be so dramatic. By Illior's light, you know I love you.",
she brushed her hands down the front of her jacket, suddenly aware of
her disheveled condition.
Everything was happening too fast. It was the six month mark of Rand's
death and here in his homeland, that was observed by giving a "final farewell"
in the form of ceremony. Trade agreements with the tribes of the Cuan na'Ilaia
were being ironed out; the Chieftain of the tribes, Byran Yullagolth was a
draining event.
And then there was Will. Best not to linger upon that too long, he was
friendly and there was something about him that illicited trust from her, but
that was it. Her heart felt wrapped in cotton and tucked away, unreachable
except through pain.
She sighed and Evan stopped her with a hand upon her arm, "You've not
heard a word I've said, have you?" , the concern in his gaze and tone evident.
"I'm tired Evan, I spent all day riding and training. I have read the texts and
notes you've left me on the ritual for tommorrow, can everything else wait?",
she felt weighed down, the only spot of brightness her clandestine meetings
with Will. Alright, so more accidental meetings, but they held an air of secrecy
for her.
Evan fretted over his lady, he knew of her trips to the town of Rhydin and
approved for the most part; she was young and shouldn't frown nearly so much
as she was prone to do when moping around the castle. He had seen her move
from a vibrant ray of innocence and strike a sullen wall of mourning that he feared
she would not survive; to see her finally begin to re-emerge brought him hope.
"M'lady, all but you breaking your fast can wait. You will eat then relax as
you will.", as he spoke, he realized he sounded like a mother hen; no matter,
she was too thin and he would not have her fall ill.
She smiled and for all the world Evan nearly could not contain his heart-felt
sigh of relief, "As you wish, m'lord Evan. I shall eat then promptly relax. You
see, by Illior, I listen to you sometimes."
She laughed lightly, not much, but the sound was a welcomed musical
symphony to Evan. Yes, these trips to Rhydin were something he definitely
approved of, although that did not mean that he was going to call off the guards
he had shadowing his lady. He would not allow a mistake to leave his country
bereft of her guidance and her care.
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From: bekacavish@aol.com (BekaCavish)
Date: 10 May 1998 14:50:06 EDT
(Author's note: These posts basically encompasses the past six months
of Beka's life, hope you enjoy. :-) )
By Thunder:
Byran Yullagolth, chieftain of a tribe of people some would consider little
above savages, raced across the vale, his long braid whipping behind him as
he lowered his body closer to the horse he rode. By thunder the lass could
ride for one so young, he thought as he hazzarded a glance back to find her
on his tail, almost literally.
The echos of hooves striking the dry ground reverberated in his ears as
he urged his stallion Thor, a pure-bred clydesdale of exquisite form and training,
to greater speeds. Beka knew the trail and had the advantage of a lighter
horse and soon pulled Mydknight nose to nose with the chieftain. Byran's
attention was stolen by the image of her; her coppery hair freed from bonds
flowed like fire from a face that was lit with the exhiliration of the race; a woman
whose heart soared when she was riding.
In that moment of distraction she veered to the left then jumped a fallen
trunk to overtake his position as she travelled around a low dell; she felt like
the wind itself as she completed the feat, not daring to look back to gauge
her advantage. Reaching the tree that was the agreed upon goal she reigned
in Mydknight, slowing the beast to a gallop, then a walk. The sound of a
second set of hooves distinct as she came about in a circle, a luminous smile
touching her expression.
"By Illior *that* was a race!", her tone bright with layers of admiration and
friendliness. "If ever there was a steed to outrace Mydnight it would be Thor.
I had the homeland advantage though."
Byran was a bear of a man, his shoulders broader that twice a normal man
and all muscle normally counted on his stature to intimidate his foes and allies
alike, but this slip of a girl, bearly a woman seemed indomitible. His rolling
laughter rang out from a barrel-like chest, "By thunder, Lady Beka, admit to
beating on an over the hill man by your skill and not some flimsy excuse!"
He liked her, her demeanor matched her thoughts and he could hear the ring
of truth in her words; her thoughts akin to his own thoughts on honor and justice.
He had been troubled by the news that the old Protectorate had died and his wife
would be handling the trade agreements, more so when he heard she had not
seen twenty winters pass yet. With that first meeting she had won him over with
her blunt honesty mixed with just the right blend of curtesy and respect.
"Lady Beka, you should smile more often. I'm thinking that you could convince
many an old man to trade their lands to see it remain.", he chuckled low as the
expected crimson flood bloomed upon her cheeks.
"You should smile more often. I'm thinking that you could scare many an
old man to throw down their weapons and beg for mercy to make you stop.",
she smiled good naturedly, slowing Mydnight to a walk again, resting the beast.
He laughed uproariously as he pulled along side her, thrusting a huge hand
out in her direction, "The gods have mercy upon any that can't get yours m'lady.
Our negotiations are at an end, I agree to the terms presented."
Her smile reached the depths of her gaze as she leaned over to grasp his
hand, her own lost in the grip as they shook. The trade would bring her people
a greater prosperity than they have ever known and a strong ally along their
southern borders, it was a good day to be Protectorate.... at last.
Date: 10 May 1998 14:50:06 EDT
(Author's note: These posts basically encompasses the past six months
of Beka's life, hope you enjoy. :-) )
By Thunder:
Byran Yullagolth, chieftain of a tribe of people some would consider little
above savages, raced across the vale, his long braid whipping behind him as
he lowered his body closer to the horse he rode. By thunder the lass could
ride for one so young, he thought as he hazzarded a glance back to find her
on his tail, almost literally.
The echos of hooves striking the dry ground reverberated in his ears as
he urged his stallion Thor, a pure-bred clydesdale of exquisite form and training,
to greater speeds. Beka knew the trail and had the advantage of a lighter
horse and soon pulled Mydknight nose to nose with the chieftain. Byran's
attention was stolen by the image of her; her coppery hair freed from bonds
flowed like fire from a face that was lit with the exhiliration of the race; a woman
whose heart soared when she was riding.
In that moment of distraction she veered to the left then jumped a fallen
trunk to overtake his position as she travelled around a low dell; she felt like
the wind itself as she completed the feat, not daring to look back to gauge
her advantage. Reaching the tree that was the agreed upon goal she reigned
in Mydknight, slowing the beast to a gallop, then a walk. The sound of a
second set of hooves distinct as she came about in a circle, a luminous smile
touching her expression.
"By Illior *that* was a race!", her tone bright with layers of admiration and
friendliness. "If ever there was a steed to outrace Mydnight it would be Thor.
I had the homeland advantage though."
Byran was a bear of a man, his shoulders broader that twice a normal man
and all muscle normally counted on his stature to intimidate his foes and allies
alike, but this slip of a girl, bearly a woman seemed indomitible. His rolling
laughter rang out from a barrel-like chest, "By thunder, Lady Beka, admit to
beating on an over the hill man by your skill and not some flimsy excuse!"
He liked her, her demeanor matched her thoughts and he could hear the ring
of truth in her words; her thoughts akin to his own thoughts on honor and justice.
He had been troubled by the news that the old Protectorate had died and his wife
would be handling the trade agreements, more so when he heard she had not
seen twenty winters pass yet. With that first meeting she had won him over with
her blunt honesty mixed with just the right blend of curtesy and respect.
"Lady Beka, you should smile more often. I'm thinking that you could convince
many an old man to trade their lands to see it remain.", he chuckled low as the
expected crimson flood bloomed upon her cheeks.
"You should smile more often. I'm thinking that you could scare many an
old man to throw down their weapons and beg for mercy to make you stop.",
she smiled good naturedly, slowing Mydnight to a walk again, resting the beast.
He laughed uproariously as he pulled along side her, thrusting a huge hand
out in her direction, "The gods have mercy upon any that can't get yours m'lady.
Our negotiations are at an end, I agree to the terms presented."
Her smile reached the depths of her gaze as she leaned over to grasp his
hand, her own lost in the grip as they shook. The trade would bring her people
a greater prosperity than they have ever known and a strong ally along their
southern borders, it was a good day to be Protectorate.... at last.
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DoS Archive
- Archivist
- Posts: 30701
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From: bekacavish@aol.com (BekaCavish)
Date: 10 May 1998 14:55:58 EDT
Battle by Night:
She was mired down by some unseen force, thrown from Mydknights'
back as a blast of energy frightened the steed. She could still hear the
thunder of his hooves as he raced off into the distance, a highly unusual
thing for him to do.
She tried to look around and determine her situation but found herself
unable to do more than stare up at the stars; the were bright enough to
blind her, if she could have lifted her arm she would have sworn she could
touch them.
Suddenly she realized that someone was speaking to her, the tone
soothing and the friendly overtures unmistakable but the words were
distorted and she couldn't figure out what he was trying to tell her.
Her mouth opened to speak and her vocal chords betrayed her, emitting
no sound, just as her body would not move. The man kept talking, the
words making no more sense than when he began but taking on an edge of
urgency, as though it were important that she understand.
He grasped her prone form by the shoulders, his features as ambiguous
as his words; shaking her gently, urging her to comprehend. She was
helpless in his grip, unable to do anything as no part of her was hers to
command any longer.
Suddenly words peirced through the fabric of the dream, "M'lady Beka,
you dream! Wake up, it is just a nightmare!".
Her eyes snapped open to find Evan holding her firmly to him, rocking
her gently and soothing her hair as he whispered in her ear. "You dream,
m'lady, your shouts alerted the guards who fetched me out of concern for
you."
One hand moved to wipe the sleep from her eyes, the remanants of the
dream haunting her still, "I was riding through the valley and I saw a figure
that reminded me of Rand. I tried to catch up with him but no matter how
fast I urged Mydknight to go, the man never seemed closer. I was lost...",
her tone still holding the echos of a sleeper not quite aware of her
surroundings.
"It's alright m'lady, you are not lost now.", Evan strained to keep the
concern from his voice; he had hoped her nightmares concerning the death
of Durandal had been laid to rest with the ceremony that had just past.
"There was a bright light that frightened Mydknight, I was thrown to the
ground.", she was vaguely aware of the gentle rocking motion of Evan's
embrace,"And then, Wil was there and trying to tell me something, but
I couldn't understand what he was saying. "
"Hush m'lady, the morning will make the images of night disperse or
bring them to light. For now, sleep.", he laid her back firmly and
straightened the mussed blankets; covering her and tucking her in.
"But I think Wil was trying to show me the path back... ", as she spoke,
Evan placed a fingertip to her lips.
"M'lady, you are not lost now and I will always be here to assist you
if you ever do find yourself lost. Now, put your worries to rest along with
yourself.", he smiled down at her as she closed her eyes.
"I wonder where I was lost at..."
Evan shut the door to the chamber behind him softly, leaving orders
for the guard to retrieve him should she show signs of being captured in
the throes of another nightmare. Wandering back to his own chambers
he mentally went over the things he would need to do on the morrow;
first and foremost would be to investigate this man that his Lady was
spending so much time thinking on. Yes, he would need to find out more
of this William Savage.
Date: 10 May 1998 14:55:58 EDT
Battle by Night:
She was mired down by some unseen force, thrown from Mydknights'
back as a blast of energy frightened the steed. She could still hear the
thunder of his hooves as he raced off into the distance, a highly unusual
thing for him to do.
She tried to look around and determine her situation but found herself
unable to do more than stare up at the stars; the were bright enough to
blind her, if she could have lifted her arm she would have sworn she could
touch them.
Suddenly she realized that someone was speaking to her, the tone
soothing and the friendly overtures unmistakable but the words were
distorted and she couldn't figure out what he was trying to tell her.
Her mouth opened to speak and her vocal chords betrayed her, emitting
no sound, just as her body would not move. The man kept talking, the
words making no more sense than when he began but taking on an edge of
urgency, as though it were important that she understand.
He grasped her prone form by the shoulders, his features as ambiguous
as his words; shaking her gently, urging her to comprehend. She was
helpless in his grip, unable to do anything as no part of her was hers to
command any longer.
Suddenly words peirced through the fabric of the dream, "M'lady Beka,
you dream! Wake up, it is just a nightmare!".
Her eyes snapped open to find Evan holding her firmly to him, rocking
her gently and soothing her hair as he whispered in her ear. "You dream,
m'lady, your shouts alerted the guards who fetched me out of concern for
you."
One hand moved to wipe the sleep from her eyes, the remanants of the
dream haunting her still, "I was riding through the valley and I saw a figure
that reminded me of Rand. I tried to catch up with him but no matter how
fast I urged Mydknight to go, the man never seemed closer. I was lost...",
her tone still holding the echos of a sleeper not quite aware of her
surroundings.
"It's alright m'lady, you are not lost now.", Evan strained to keep the
concern from his voice; he had hoped her nightmares concerning the death
of Durandal had been laid to rest with the ceremony that had just past.
"There was a bright light that frightened Mydknight, I was thrown to the
ground.", she was vaguely aware of the gentle rocking motion of Evan's
embrace,"And then, Wil was there and trying to tell me something, but
I couldn't understand what he was saying. "
"Hush m'lady, the morning will make the images of night disperse or
bring them to light. For now, sleep.", he laid her back firmly and
straightened the mussed blankets; covering her and tucking her in.
"But I think Wil was trying to show me the path back... ", as she spoke,
Evan placed a fingertip to her lips.
"M'lady, you are not lost now and I will always be here to assist you
if you ever do find yourself lost. Now, put your worries to rest along with
yourself.", he smiled down at her as she closed her eyes.
"I wonder where I was lost at..."
Evan shut the door to the chamber behind him softly, leaving orders
for the guard to retrieve him should she show signs of being captured in
the throes of another nightmare. Wandering back to his own chambers
he mentally went over the things he would need to do on the morrow;
first and foremost would be to investigate this man that his Lady was
spending so much time thinking on. Yes, he would need to find out more
of this William Savage.