ITL 102

[Mountie]

  Now we are getting to the bottom of it...  I'm glad it's clear now.

            “Don’t pretend to be offended.  It was an invitation.  You want him to take you out.”

            “That is not what I intended, you - - you - - Nisutalin!  As if I-”

            “You keep claiming that things are over, that you’re not interested, that you’re horribly offended, and then you see him again.  You seek him out.”

            Hitari looked between them, fascinated, curious.

            “I do not!” Anosanim protested.  “And don’t you dare imply that I’m some sort of manipulative-”

            “You are.”

            “-game-playing-”

            “You are.”

            “Nisutalin!”

            “Saying my name five more times won’t change anything.  You want Ritek to chase you, hunt you down, and then stuff you and mount you.”  He grinned.  “So to speak.”

            “Nisutalin!”

            Hitari winked.  “Sounds exciting.”

            Anosanim gasped.  “Hitari!”

[Mountie]

I think I have mentioned I  Rini right?  When I first met Rini I was a little like Xoe Voe in my understanding of the Royal Inspirations role and gifts but he is starting to truly grow in  his role.  He will be a force in the world quite soon I imagine.

            Meeting T’rin’s father, somehow, had really hit Rini.  It had shown him, in vivid reality, that the clans weren’t a bunch of ruthless warriors.  The clans were just groups and tribes and communities, like any nation.  They were comprised of people, old people, children, regular people.  It was just like when countries went to war, and someone’s son died, and someone’s father was maimed, and someone’s brother was never heard from again.  And families were scared, and they worried, and they grieved.  And some people felt helpless, wanting to do something; some people were terrified, afraid to be called on to do something.  And some people were victims, innocent victims, defenseless victims, their homes raided, violence visited upon them where they lived.

            He wanted to do something.  He had to do something.  He couldn’t just sit still and let it happen, like Xio Snow.  He wanted to help.

            How could he help?

[Mountie]

For me this exchange between  and Xoe Voe was extremely powerful.  I truly understood the meaning behind the title to the story after I read this.  It is one of my favorite passages so far.

            “I trust that when we wed, and you vow to obey me, you will commit honestly to that vow.”

            Nausea rolled through him.  “Anosukinom swears obedience to no man.  I am a god, Heir Voe, a deity, divine.  You will not chain me to your side like some brilliant, petted thing.”

            A defiant flash of green in Xio Voe’s eyes.  His voice was soft and dangerous, like a distant roll of thunder.  The thunder outside, however, was not distant; it cracked and rumbled violently as lightning split the sky.  “What I offer you is what is best, for both of us.”

            “You offer what is best for you,” Kudorin argued.  On his feet now, he backed away, horrified, both as god and man, by what Xio Voe asked of him.  “You do not know what is best for me.  I begin to think that you do not care what is best for me.  I am Anosukinom, living god among us, us, Anorians.”  The candlelight became impossibly bright, vividly illuminating what Xio Voe had plainly failed to see, what Xio Voe hadn’t begun to comprehend.  “I am Mutotanosa, highest child of the gods, of my gods, of Anorian gods.  I am Situkabulanin, ruler of all within our borders, Orina Anoris’ borders.  I am Elanilanulanori Banotuda Kudorin, the most sacred, precious, divine, and holy gift to all in this land.  Kudorin, Heir Voe.  In this land.”  The storm raging outside was nothing compared to the one raging within him.  “Not in Seijaces.  Not in Jacacea.  Not anywhere but here.  Kudorin.  In this land.”

[Mountie]

 

             Kudorin sat between them, drawing Anikira into his lap and wrapping his arm around Remin, dripping wet and staining the white couch, Anikira’s white clothes, with droplets of red, orange, gold, green, blue, and purple, turning his wet face to Remin’s shoulder and, with a shudder, whispering, “My own husband, my king, asked me if I would marry him, and I told him no.”