It was very strange.
He couldn't help but think about it as he returned to his room, with Sapphire riding comfortably on his shoulder, his fearsome little guardian that would ensure that absolutely nothing or no one threatened him again. He had been involved in a fight for his very life, and there had been very little fear. He'd never had to fight like that before, not when it mattered so much, or at least not that he could remember. And yet there had been very little fear. There had been worry over the poisoned weapons, a little desperation when he accidentally summoned the Firestaff by accident, and definite concern and awareness of the finality of losing the fight… but no real fear.
In a way, it had felt… familiar. They said he'd been quite a dangerous fighter, and he'd been in so many fights that it was probably second nature to him to fight like that. But that Tarrin was lost for the moment, buried in the deepest tunnels of his mind, ensnared in the submerged alternate consciousness that had once been merged with his own. Had that other him somehow emerged during the fight? Or was it such an automatic response for him to fight by now that even with amnesia, he could respond to such a dangerous situation without fear paralyzing him? He certainly felt some of that fear now. The understanding that one scratch may have killed him certainly seemed more frightening to him now than it had during the heat of the moment. The fighting had been nothing like what he had expected.
And then there was the knowledge of the finality of it. Three men had died in the course of the fight, and Tarrin had been directly responsible for two of them. The third had died at the hands of one of his own companions, victim of the spell that the Firestaff had placed over them. Tarrin's pinning move had killed one from the very poison meant for him, and the second was his direct responsibility. He had killed the man ruthlessly, knowing that his poisoned weapon was a threat to him no matter how injured he was. Tarrin had made a conscious choice to kill him.
And there was no guilt. Of course, all his friends would tell him he was crazy for thinking that he should feel guilty. Those men had tried to kill him, and they had tried it with a tool so underhanded and cowardly that it would offend a man with honor. Poisoning was considered the lowest form of cowardly backbiting among the Ungardt. Any man not strong or brave enough to face an enemy like an Ungardt didn't deserve to own an axe. But still, some part of him told him that he should feel something for what he had done.
In reality he did, but it wasn't what he expected to feel. He felt relieved. He was relieved he had gotten away from them, relieved that he'd killed them. If any of them had gotten away, they would try again. And again, and again, and again, until they either died or got to him. What he was carrying, men were going to willingly risk death to try to gain it. If anything, now he perfectly and completely understood that one simple concept. There were some things that some men were willing to die over, and the chance to become a god would certainly reach that level of devotion. He doubted those men had acted on their own. He was certain that someone sent them… but on the other hand, how could an organization trust men enough to send them to acquire an item that could give those very men the power to rule the world? Either they didn't tell them just what it really was they were after, or they had to trust those men absolutely to bring the prize back. One of them had called the Firestaff by its name, so he had the feeling that those three knew what it was. They must have been very devoted to their organization to be willing to give away the power to be a god.
If it had come to that. The Firestaff had them in its spell, and he had the feeling that if they would have taken it from him, they wouldn't have been handing it over to anyone. They would have killed each other over possession of it, and the winner, if there indeed was one given that all of them had poisoned weapons, would have run away with the prize. The Firestaff's corrupting power over men would make it very difficult for one man to send another to retrieve it for him and expect him to return with it. It made him see the deadly, destructive power of the artifact. As long as it was present, no man could be trusted, and the one who possessed it couldn't even trust his own friends. The Firestaff did not choose its owner, it called to all, seeking one who would take it up and use it in the way it had been created to be used.
Should he feel guilty over killing two men and being responsible for the death of a third? Should he have felt fear? Serious questions, and he had the feeling that the answers to them were locked up with the missing memories in his mind. He felt that fragments of his lost personality were starting to reassert themselves. He had remembered in the carriage, remembered things forgotten. Was it a stretch to think that in the heat of a fight, with such emotion surging through him with the adrenalin and the knowledge that it was a fight for his very life, that the part of him best suited for dealing with the situation would resurge within him? It wouldn't have been the first time fragments of his old self made their presence known. The Cat had literally attacked Koran Dar when his magic got too close to it. Maybe the old Tarrin had been released from his prison inside him for a few brief moments and gave him the courage and experience and proper mindset he needed to get out of a very bad situation.
Whether he liked that Tarrin or not, if that was the case, then he was very glad that he was still around.
But maybe it wasn't all the forgotten Tarrin. He'd been rather calm even after the fight. He knew exactly what he had to do, and he did it. Even after that, going to see Jenna, he didn't have a breakdown or go into histrionics. Someone had just tried to kill him, and it was like it was just something that occupied the time between bathtime and breakfast.
Well, maybe he wasn't quite that nanchalant. There had been a little heart-pounding, that was for sure, but it came more or less after he was safe. Almost like that was when he realized he had the time to let it out.
The whole thing had disrupted his plans for the day, that was for sure. He was back in his room, where they were waiting for Jenna to come and set the Ward. There were already two Knights at his door, and what was more, pairs of Knights were stationed at every passage intersection and stairway landing on his room's floor and two floors up and two floors down. If anyone even wanted to get within two floors of him, they'd have to get past a virtual gauntlet of fiercely protective Knights. And they were fiercely protective. They were standing outside his door in full armor and with their swords drawn, as if wasting the time to draw them would be too long a time to wait. A servant needing to do work on Tarrin's floor had to explain himself and subject himself to search about ten times. Nothing that even might be used as a weapon was being allowed to pass the Knights. No brooms, no buckets, not even long-handled feather dusters. Sapphire was in his room, sitting on his desk and looking at one of the porcelain figurines that had been given to him as a gift curiously. It was a figurine of a small child kneeling with her little hands pressed together in prayer.
"Not a single dragon," Sapphire sniffed in disapproval. "If I knew you fancied trivial decorations, I would have sent you one."
"Well, it's not that I fancy them," he said. "But they were gifts. Custom among my people is that if something is given to you as a gift, you have to use it or display it. I'm really not that fond of some of these things, but they were given to me. It's an insult to the good wishes of the giver for me to just put them in a box and stick them under the bed."
"You take much stock in custom even now," she said. "Before you lost your memory, you were much the same. I see that some elements of your personality were yours before you were turned."
He pointed to the little crystal bell she'd sent him. "There's yours. Right by the bed, where I could get my hands on it in a hurry if I needed to."
"It pleases me that you took my gift seriously," she said with approving eyes.
"I'm just now starting to appreciate how serious all this is."
"I dare say you would," she said with an eerie reptillian grin.
"I do really like that one, though," he said, pointing at the cat with the emerald eyes.
"Who sent it?"
"I forgot. One of those people I can't really remember," he answered.
"It is an excellent piece," she said, studying it. "Refined and elegant, yet with an understated simplicity that makes it very bold."
"I don't know about all that, I just like it," he told her in a simple manner.
"You have no soul for art, Tarrin."
"I guess not," he shrugged in agreement.
There was a sudden commotion outside the door, as one of the Knights raised his voice for some reason. There was a pause, and then the door was thrown open, and much to both his irritation and concern, Jesmind was standing in the doorway. He could tell almost immediately that she was either upset or angry. She wasn't alone; Triana was just behind her, and Mist was with her.
"Are you alright?" she asked immediately, sweeping into the room so quickly that it surprised him, coming over and putting those large padded hands on him, checking him.
"I'm alright," he said neutrally. He couldn't be mad at her for being concerned, but what happened earlier hadn't changed his intention to lay down the law. He reached up and put his hands on her forearms, and then gently pushed them away.
That one move seemed to convey the entirety of his emotion to her. She looked at him with surprise and just a little chagrin, and she stiffened. "Listen, Tarrin," she said quickly. "I'm sorry. I know I-"
"Sorry isn't going to fix it this time," he said in a steely tone. "Look around you, Jesmind. Looks a little different than the last time you were in here, doesn't it?" he accused. "You had no right to destroy my room!" he shouted at her suddenly, and it made her take a step back.
"Someone nearly kills you, and you want to fight about that?" Jesmind said in surprise.
"People try to kill me all the time!" he said pugnaciously. "I don't remember it, but I know it because you told me so! Why shouldn't I be used to it by now?"
He knew that sounded a little ludicrious, and Sapphire couldn't suppress a hissing giggle. Jesmind wasn't laughing, though. "I've had about enough of it, Jesmind," he told her bluntly. "This is what's going to happen. You're going to stop following me around. You're going to make sure the other Were-cats don't follow me around in your stead, and you're going to give me the space I want. You're going to leave me alone, because if you don't, I can guarantee you that you won't see me anymore. I'll have you thrown out of the Tower."
"You wouldn't dare!" she shouted, looming over him threateningly.
It was an empty threat. Tarrin knew that Jesmind would not hurt him, no matter how angry he made her. Not in his weakened condition.
"When my sister is the Keeper, I think I can easily manage that," he said cooly, with narrowing eyes. "Just back off and leave me alone," he repeated. " If I forgive you for what you did, I'll start visiting you again. Until then, just leave me alone. And you'd better leave Auli alone too," he added. "If I hear of you harassing her, I'm going to be very mad."
"I'm not letting that little tart get away with-"
"With what? Doing to me exactly what you did to me?" he said, flinging that matter back in her face. "Me and Auli had a talk. She's sorry she did it now, and she's promised to not do it again. Auli is my friend, Jesmind. I'm going to spend time with her, whether you like it or not. So live with it."
"What I did was different," she said, crossing her arms before her and glaring at him. "You are mine, Tarrin. I spent too much time protecting you and teaching you and helping you to give you away now. If you think I'm going to just do what you say, you've got another thing coming. I fight for what I want, and I want you."
"If you don't give me what I need, you're guaranteeing you'll never get me," he shot back. "That choice is mine to make. Antagonizing me before I make it is a very bad way of influencing my decision. Nothing's decided until I get back my memory. Goddess, woman, can't you understand that? Everything going on right now, none of it really matters! So I slept with Auli. Big deal! If I love you as much as you say I do, do you really think that's going to matter once I can remember it again? Given what I know of Were-cats, do you think I'll care about it when I get back my memory, since it'll be the memory of me as a Were-cat? I'm going to make that choice, Jesmind. You're not going to make it for me, but damn it all, you're doing a good job of making me make the choice you don't want me to make!"
Jesmind growled in her throat, taking a step forward, but Mist interposed herself between the two of them. With one hand on Jesmind's shoulder and one on his, she pushed them apart. "I'm surprised with you, Jesmind," she said calmly. "This is Tarrin we're talking about here. If you can't trust him, how can you call him your mate?" she demanded. She looked at him, a very calm, very rational look. "And he's talking truth. If I were him, I'd be really mad with you too. I'd probably think you were the biggest bitch to ever walk the earth and never want to talk to you again. Trees, woman, you tear up his room and try to kill his bedmate, and you think he's going to welcome you in here and offer you tea and cakes?"
"Don't you start with me, Mist," Jesmind growled.
"I'll start with you all I want," she said with a flinty look. "You forget your place, girl."
That certainly pressed some hidden button that should not have been pressed. Jesmind hissed threateningly at Mist, putting her ears back and slapping the shorter Were-cat's hand off her shoulder. Blood spattered with the arc of Jesmind's hand, and Tarrin realized she'd used her claws and raked Mist a good one while doing it. If it hurt Mist, she didn't show it. She just looked up at the taller Were-cat and raised a clawed hand, claws out and fingers flexed in a crooked manner that exaggerated those wicked claws.
"Children," Sapphire said in a strong yet measured voice, flapping over and landing on Tarrin's shoulder, "if you start fighting in here, you're going to answer to me. Do you understand me?"
Tarrin doubted anything could have made those two seperate faster than that. Mist and Jesmind glared at each other, but didn't make any hostile moves towards each other. That they may actually fight surprised him, but it also fell into what he'd been told about their kind. "All that goes for you too, Mist," Tarrin said firmly. "I don't want you picking up where she leaves off." He pointed at Jesmind.
"That's not a problem, Tarrin," she said calmly. "Unlike Jesmind, I understand the situation. I won't pressure you one way or another."
"I understand the situation better than you!" she shouted. "We may lose him, Mist! Do you really want that?"
"I'd rather lose him as a mate over losing him forever," she said cooly. "If we make him become a Were-cat again, do you think he'll ever forgive us, even if that would have been the choice he made? He'd never talk to any of us again, and where would that leave us? He'd be Were once more, but he'd be worse than feral. He'd never have anything to do with any of us ever again. He'd be totally alone. Is that what you want for him? Are you so set on keeping him that you'd drive him away just to prove your point? Are you willing to destroy his life, Jesmind? If so, then keep right on doing what you're doing."
Jesmind gave Triana a helpless, pleading look, but she was rebuffed. "Don't look to me, daughter. I've been trying to drive that through your thick skull for days now. I want him back just as badly as you, but not at the risk of him washing his paws of us."
"None of you understand!" she shouted, then she looked at Tarrin. "You are mine, Tarrin! I won't ever give you up! Never, do you hear me?"
"I belong to no one!" Tarrin screamed at her, dislodging Sapphire as he stepped quickly towards her. "I'm not the person you remember! Can't you understand that? I'm sorry if it hurts you, but it's the truth!"
"Oh yes you do belong to me," she said in a cold hissing voice, narrowing her eyes. "When you get your memory back, you'll understand just how much you belong to me."
"If that's what you believe, why won't you leave me alone?" he demanded. "Do you really believe that, or is that just what you want me to believe? If I was this devoted to you, why are you so dead set on making up my mind for me? Don't you trust me, Jesmind?"
It hung there for a very long moment, then she hissed. "No!" she snapped. "I leave you because I'm pregnant, and you end up with Mist. I send you off with Kimmie, and you impregnate her!" she screamed lividly. "And now you're chasing that Sha'Kar tramp! How can I trust you when you've proven you'll chase any girl who shakes her breasts in your face!"
Tarrin wasn't the only one surprised by that declaration. Triana gave her daughter a startled look, and Mist looked both shocked and rather angry. One of those accusations was levelled right at her, and Jesmind probably didn't realize that she'd just indirectly accused Mist of being a flipskirt.
"I can see now that jealousy is not going to give you a clear view," Triana said in a grim tone. "I never expected this out of you, daughter."
"You mean all that talk of sharing Tarrin meant nothing to you?" Mist asked dangerously.
"Of course it did, but this isn't the same thing!" Jesmind said defensively.
"Well, let's just look at that a minute," Tarrin said hotly, getting so mad he really didn't realize what he was saying. "You never told me you were pregnant, if you recall, and I don't remember you ever saying much about me being yours. You never really said much to me at all! Just a couple of seductions, and most of the rest of the time you left me so confused about you I never knew what to think! I hardly call that a declaration, and I hardly think that means that I was ever yours back then," he said in a belligerent tone. "Why shouldn't I have taken Mist for mate? She needed me more than you ever will! And let's just look at Kimmie a minute," he said in a hiss. "You knew how Kimmie felt, and you knew that she would act on those feelings! Should that have shocked you? You allowed me to go with her, and you knew what was going to happen! So don't put that back on me!