Masin lay back in the bed for a moment, smiling before reaching for his trousers. It was so good to be home.
Through the window he saw some of his horses, resting in the paddock as the hired hands tended to their needs, the clean scent of healthy livestock pleasing him. He took a moment to admire the proud, valuable animals, his family sign clear on their flanks...the pinwheel swirl of Storm. That brand was now known throughout the Mark for quality and fair dealing. The last few years had been good...very good to him. His farm and his holdings had prospered. He was a wealthy man now, respected...it was indeed time he started a family.
His wife's voice drifted from the kitchen as he finished dressing.
"Masin....come eat. You can't manage this place on an empty stomach..."
The man grinned and licked his lips as he came into the bright, airy kitchen, wrapping Arralyn in his arms from behind as she laughed. "I just want to eat YOU..." Squealing she pretended to struggle and finally turned limp in his arms. "I am helpless..I must submit to you Masin Storm. Marshall of Rohan..."
Laughing he looked at her, her bright eyes gleaming, the smell of a hearty breakfast competing with the flowery scent of her skin. He rested one hand on the soft bump that showed his child was healthy within her.
Wrapping her arms tight around his neck, she whispered in his ear..."Our first child...I am so proud to be your wife, to be the wife of Masin Storm. How could any woman reject such an honor....'
Masin kissed her slowly, whispering back..."I am the lucky one."
Arralyn moaned into the kiss, then pulled back. "Food now..then Garyl and Thorvald wish to speak to you about the Horse Auction next week......and we have a note.' She could clearly barely contain her excitement.
He took a deep breath of the delectable aroma of his breakfast and looked at her. "Note? What note?"
She held out a small piece of parchment. "It is from Reeve Arol...he wishes to meet with you at the Auction. I spoke to his wife today at the fence. She says he plans on asking you to become his deputy now that Old Rolf has passed away. Without sons, he wishes to prepare you to take over for him! Oh Masin...just think of it..Reeve Storm!!!'
Masin seemed to swell with pride...looking out the wide, expensive glass window at his ripening fields, his orderly stables. To his hired men who spied him through the window, he looked peaceful and confident, but thoughts were racing. Reeve?...well why not? None in the county deserved it more. He had worked hard, it was time he enjoyed the fruits of his labor...He deserved all this...official title, wealth, a beautiful wife, a dead child.
....
What?
Why did he think of that? His child was yet to be born. What sick, dark thought was this? It must still be the hangover..such dark dreams.
Pulling his plate over, he took up his fork as Arralyn continued to cook and speak. "Carron reminded me that the pasture land beyond the stream is still for sale. If we put down an offer now, who would dare bid against you? Think of it, you would own a good sized portion of this valley, with the water source secure. We could increase the herd, perhaps fold Papa's horses into it now that he is looking to take things easy. He would be happy for you to take over things for him."
Masin was only half listening...daydreaming about Reeve Storm and the new land as he watched her full, heavy breasts swaying in her light gown. He raised his fork to his mouth and stopped...the scent of blood nearly making him gag.
He looked at the fork..a chunk of raw meat, dripping gore against his lips. He shuddered and spat the meat out.
Arralyn turned to him, taking the plate away. "What is wrong my love...are you unwell? You have been working so hard lately."
Masin shook his head. "No..something is....it is not safe here my love. I need to take you away from here...before...." He stopped, his thoughts unclear. Before? Before what?
The woman laughed and kissed him again. "You are just being overly concerned...this land is safe and fertile...you have no reason to ever leave this place...your life is here, all you love is here, and soon, your family will be here...'
Masin looked back, unsure. What was nagging at him. Something.
He looked out the window again and saw one of his hired hands dead at the paddock fence. Two more were trying to claw at a warrior of some kind in red armor. As he watched, the head was cleaved off one man, sailing through the air as his body spasmed, wings twitching as it burst into smoke.
Claws? Wings? Was that Thorvald that Xandilif just beheaded?
Wait...
Who is Xandilif?
Arralyn suddenly pulled the drapes closed and stepped in front of them. "Perhaps breakfast can wait...until after we try for twins..." She smiled in a sultry, hungry way and began to unlace her bodice....
With a lusty laugh, Masin reached to help her, her own hands leaving him to it and reaching down to hike her skirts up as she leaned back against the window.
Masin groaned in frustration, unable to open the silk cords with his gauntlets on.
Gauntlets? Why? I just woke up...
Looking down he saw he was actually dressed in full armor, arrayed for war? What? This made no sense.
Arralyn pulled her bodice open, ripping the cloth in her enthusiasm, her round breasts falling free, getting Masin's full attention back as he kissed her throat, his mouth moving lower as she moaned his name.
He turned to lay her across the table top, her ample bosom...wait...
Arralyn always joked that she was small breasted compared to her sisters....that she was practically flat...what? This was not....
"...the time to make me wait, my love...I ache for you..." Arralyn was pulling him down to her, kissing him desperately...pulling at his clothing...no....his armor...no...oh what did it matter?
Laying over her, her legs falling open, he buried his face in her auburn hair....wait. Auburn...what? Auburn?
Masin spoke slowly, afraid he had finally gone mad. "Arralyn has blonde hair...blonde...blonde as sunlight at Maytime when the hay is fresh."
Masin closed his eyes..."You are not Arralyn....."
A soft voice cooed up to him, laughing seductively..."Of course I am not Arralyn....are you drunk, Masin?"
He opened his eyes and stared down, the blond hair cascading down her shoulders, covering her bare breasts as she reached for him and he struggled to speak. "No...you're...
She smiled up at him, with love and desire in her eyes..."I am Addie...your second wife."
Masin screamed, staggering back...shaking his head..."This is not real!..This is..."
"..time Masin....the baby is coming ...." Arralyn screamed as Masin paced on the other side of the room as the midwives worked...another scream of pain..and then..a baby crying, a good, healthy cry...."
The midwife turned to him, holding a bundle in bloody towels...Arralyn smiled at him weakly from the couch..."She is so beautiful, my love..."
Masin came closer as he felt people patting his back..a father at last...filled with pride. He took the bundle from the smiling midwife and looked into the swaddling. "Congratulations Masin Storm," she said "it's a...."
He watched with horror as his baby daughter unfurled it's wings for the first time....
"...it's a monster"
Howling, Masin fell to his knees, desperate for these horrible visions to leave him...and everything was swept away. Kneeling with him was Arralyn, her blonde hair reflecting the starlight. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "Masin...stop struggling...please my love. why do you hurt us both. Just say yes...say yes and we can be together forever, free of fear or pain or time, just you and I and our children forever. No war, no death. I love you Masin...don't throw this chance away. We can start again....just say yes...and give me your heart as you once did...give me your soul...."
Arralyn's eyes went wide....a thin trickle of blood ran down her chin as she looked down, to see Masin's sword driven to the hilt through her midsection. Masin Storm met her eyes with his hard stare as he released the hilt. "No. Whatever you are, you are NOT Arralyn, you are NOT Miss Addie...and my soul, my soul is MY OWN."
The sound of ripping silk filled the cottage as Masin fell back, stunned by the inhuman shriek that followed, his eardrums practically bursting. The scent of smoke was choking him, the cottage was on fire..he stared up and watched the Morroval unfurl her massive, blood red wings, the firelight reflecting off her voluptuous, nude body and auburn hair as she raised one hand, six inch claws sharp as razors...and he knew he was going to die..but he knew was going to die with his soul intact, he was still...
"MASIN!!!!" with a crash the expensive picture window was smashed in, a screaming Xandilif having dived through it. The glamour had finally been broken by Masin stabbing the Blood-witch. A spray of blood stung Masin's eyes as the claws ripped through the elf's helm and face both, her body barely blocking it in time to spare the helpless knight. SilverWand slashed in a tight arc one way, then back again, the familiar "shing-shing" sound echoing while Lif was still in the air and with a roar of pain Lyr the Twiceborn, Blood-witch of the Stained Court, was forced to retreat, her voice echoing. "Curse you both, I leave you trapped in a burning dream...We will meet again Masin Storm...I WILL have your soul, and your heart, yet."
Xandilif pressed one hand against her bleeding face, trying to clear the blood out of her eyes as Masin frantically stared around for an escape. "Is there a way out, elf? Is there???
Xandilif nodded weakly, her strength running out as she struggled to her feet. "There is, Paramour..but you ain't gonna like it..."
Masin just nodded. "Anything..we need to get out of here...my wife...my baby..."
The flat blade of SilverWand hit him hard in the side of the head, dropping him without a sound in a heap to the ground, the burning cottage fading away leaving them back in the counting room of Kheledul. "..are gone..as gone as this nightmare you poor bastard. "
When next Masin woke, the battle was long over and he was in the safehouse being gently nursed by Addie, his head feeling as if a horse had kicked it, his memories jumbled and incomplete.
A wisp of red silk however, the edges singed, was still locked tight in his fist.
