The Forest of In-Betweens [GERALDINE]

Geraldine, for a moment, didn't watch the little one very closely and see that she had rejected the food. She was staring into the fireplace and at all the ornaments over it. The entire wall was a busy collection of antlers, natural and carved, medallions, medals and tapestries that honored the family. And there in the center was the family crest carved into the stone of the fireplace. A Chosaint I Ngach. The old tongue's language carved so delicately into the stone... and it's meaning. To protect in all things...

This wall was a shrine to all who had come before her to stand in the place she now occupied. Her father loved this room. He spent much of his time that he wasn't serving or training in here, reading old books or looking once more at the family names etched in the marriage registry. Such things were for the family who thought themselves worth something enough to keep track of that sort of thing... The Killians could trace themselves back to the days of Herald. Geraldine did not find pride or treasure in doing so. To her, it seemed that was more or less the reason the Empire had been abolished... people becoming too wrapped up in their glory and honor... to remember why they had those things to start with.

But of course such a naive opinion would be frowned upon from anyone in her house. It was ironic... Her mother had taught her all the history The Rose had to offer that Geraldine could understand and yet for some reason her father did not seem to take any of that into account. The only history Morgan Thomas Killian was interested in was the Killian heritage. Or so it seemed...

No one could deny that Morgan was a good leader, a good Guardian Commander and a good husband. He protected his family; protected his land like it were his family; and many respected the old man for it. It was his intense disappointment that they had never successfully had any other children, but he never took that disappointment out of his closet and handed it to his wife to deal with. He kept it there until...

Until it was time to mold Geraldine into a proper leader. The first female head of house. How difficult it was for him to finally admit that no suitor had made himself available before Geraldine reached proper age. But to be fair, he had done a damn good job of frightening anyone else away. Any interest in the Killian heir was met with much scrutiny of your entire family lineage and your own ability as well. Morgan would pull strings and favors to check anyone who would come forward until the intimidation had caused any interest to crumple. And those who dared to persist...

Geraldine's eyes slid closed against the light and heat of the fire.

It hadn't been Alistair's fault... none of it had. They had been raised together. The son of a doctor and the daughter of a shield. It just kept happening that their paths would cross for all the typical reasons. Mothers meeting to discuss herbs and gardening, fathers meeting to discuss injuries of Shields and citizens... it would have been far stranger if they hadn't had any interest in each other. Though, for the longest time, Geraldine had no idea how deep those feelings would become, or even how deep they already were. Nor did she understand for the longest time how much stress her father was putting on the boy and his family for his supposed transgressions.

Transgressions... it's a sad day in human history when love is a transgression...

She still wasn't certain what had happened to the boy. Geraldine knew her father would never discuss it in detail, but he had always said Alistair was challenged to do something and he had yet to return successful, and might suggest that he had failed and was ashamed to return. Geraldine knew that wasn't impossible... but if anything had happened to him, it truly would be her own fault. And the longer the time apart grew, the more she was certain of one thing. He wasn't going to return.

... The most innocent and caring soul in the village had been chased away and possibly doomed to protect her from some ridiculous shame...

Ridiculous... because you can't get more shamed that destroying an innocent for justice.

That horrible... wicked evening in the woods... Her trial by fire... It still plagued her some nights. But that was the point. It was to remind her that every rose was protect by the thorns of the Shield... and it was her responsibility to deal with the painful things.

So that no one else would have to.

The tale her uncle had told her was not one of conspiracy or determination to undermine the law... He had loved his wife enough to sacrifice his own life for hers... and if someone had not seen him making a deal with a caravan to sneak in something forbidden, he might have succeeded and she might have gotten well. Geraldine didn't yet understand what "radiation" meant, but the treatment that her aunt had needed was of that sort. Apparently, it was a double edged sword and could be disastrous if anyone had decided to use the technology for ill.

Her uncle had died willingly... he had not fought nor pleaded for his life. He died honorably knowing that he had broken the law to save someone he loved. Geraldine had decided then that she would accept no man but one that was willing to do the same for her, even if she never asked it of him. Strangely, her father had helped her in the choosing between men. If they could not fight back against her father's wishes, they certainly would never do anything that would impress her.

...Alistair had impressed her... and he had been a gentle sort.

And her aunt... her aunt had broken no law... had done no evil deed... but was sentenced to slowly die alone without her beloved husband in that cottage on the mountainside. It was... Geraldine's doing. And her aunt had known it. Had watched as Geraldine herself had swung the sword that had laid him low. It was her duty. As it was her duty to listen to the entire story from beginning to end and dole out the justice that the law demanded. That her father demanded. Ten years ago, she'd been far too weak to say anything in the defense of a woman who could do nothing. Today, she regretted that. Alistair, in his own way that he might never understand or know, had impressed upon her a different kind of fairness. She should have defended his right to love... and her own.

The smokey scent of lavender reached her nose and she opened her eyes to see her mother leaned over the fireplace, tossing in some dried herbs to bless the house. The tribe her mother had hailed from had been so proud of their tribal ways, back even before the Empire. Geraldine had often thought that surely her mother was even more noble than the Tiarna family themselves.

The heir then turned to look at the fox eared child, who seemed almost asleep by the time she had come out of her reverie. "...Sulwyn...? Let us go to bed now. We are both exhausted." Geraldine reached over to gently pick up the child and cradled her gently, taking care not to harm her leg or tail as she stepped up the stairs lightly in her boots still. When she reached the room, the curtains were open and the window was cracked a bit to let in fresh air. She closed it and started a fire in the smaller fireplace (well, smaller in comparison to the monster in the main room). The room was decorated with soft greens and browns and golds. The rug here was woven fibers rather than animal skin, despite Geraldine's proficiency as a huntress. The blanket over the bed was a bearskin though. Geraldine pulled the bearskin from the bed and sat on the rug, laying Sulwyn down and wrapping her gently in the fur.

"This will be more comfortable to you probably than sleeping in the bed. I get the feeling you aren't used to human living. That will be fine, though. We will figure it out, I assure you. As for father... well... I don't even think he understands himself sometimes."