he was lost. Baerle still held her clothes in her paws over her chest, but since scrambling out of the skunk’s door, she had stumbled through the woods and run from the lights of town as she did not wish to see herself. Now it would not matter if she was dressed or not, for the darkness of the woods was so complete that even with her animal senses, she could only see the vaguest of outlines in the darkness. The massive trees were just wide chasms of a deeper darkness that she could not penetrate. Of herself, there was very little to see.
So finally, after so many aching interminable minutes of stumbling, the opossum finally collapsed in a heap against one of those invisible sentinels, letting her tears flow freely. The daze of the beer was wearing off, making the thoughts filling her mind all the more painful. She pressed her face against her shirt, trying to fill her nose with her own scents. But still, she could smell the skunk’s musk, and she could remember what he’d done. And more, what she had done and wished.
It was not the first time she had been with the skunk at least, there was that solace. Though thinking of the time she had cared deeply for him hurt her. Baerle closed her eyes tight, the tears still staining her cheek fur. She dried them with her shirt, but her paws shook the whole time she did so. She could still feel the sting on her cheek from where the skunk had slapped her, and the tenderness in her wrist from where he’d grabbed her, but those pains were insignificant next to the pain of what he had said to her.
And it was so painful because she knew that he was right.
By the gods, she had wanted it to be Charles making love to her. She’d imagined it was the rat and not the skunk that was atop her. She had dreamed it was his tongue that stroked her chest fur, his paws running along her sides, his tail that lay atop her own. She had imagined all those things, and in her drunkenness, had thought them to be true too.
She sobbed anew then, pressing her paws against her eyes. Would Berchem tell others that she fancied Kimberly’s husband? No, he probably would not. He had never told another of the reason he had kicked her out of his life the first time nearly six months ago. It just wasn’t his nature. It was not much consolation, but it stilled her shaking for the time.
But she couldn’t deny it now, as she stared into the darkness of night. That one word, that one exultation, that one wish had been upon her lips, and she had heard it with her own ears. She loved Charles. It was something she had known since the day they had first met, when he’d rescued her from the falling bridge. She’d known it when Charles told her that he was engaged already and she’d slapped him and fled home. And she had known it when she went to meet Kimberly, hoping that she could drive them apart.
Baerle was in love with Charles, a man who was already married. Not only that, but he was married to her very best friend. She loved Kimberly like a sister, and could not bring herself to ever hurt her. If Kimberly knew that the opossum wished to be in her husband’s bed with him, how would she react? She would be heartbroken at the betrayal, their friendship shattered. Baerle would have no home at the Glen.
Looking out into the darkness, she wondered where she could ever find a home again. The cold air was beginning to bite into her flesh, and she pulled her legs closer to her chest and the clothes crushed between them. She could just continue out into that darkness. There were more villages to the South of Metamor that were also cursed. She could serve as an archer in one of them, start her life anew. Perhaps even find another who might love her, despite what she could not do?
Despite the tears that threatened to once more pour down her face, and despite the darkness that surrounded her, and the pain she had left behind her, she could not force herself to move from that spot. She wanted to run, to run far away, but still, her paws kept her pressed against the bark of the tree. There was one thing that kept her from moving, and she could not deny what it was.
Kimberly.
As she thought on the rat who had become her sister in so many ways in the last months, she realized that leaving like this would hurt her in worse ways than anything she had done so far. She’d have to go back to that house, to be the wet nurse for her children, to be around both her and Charles for quite likely the remainder of all their lives. No matter how much it hurt.
But she couldn’t go back like this, and she was not going to put her clothes on while she could still feel the touch of the skunk upon her. Slowly, Baerle managed to rise to her feet, her back pressed against the massive tree trunk to steady herself. It took a moment, but finally she was able to step away from the tree and into the darkness of the night. She could see a bit better now though, the faint light from the few stars that managed to penetrate the canopy overhead bringing a few details of her surrounding to her. She could follow her nose and ears far better though, and so followed her own trail back towards the Glen.
She stopped when she neared Berchem’s tree though. It took her several minutes to return that far, and most of her strength had come back by then, but still, she could not go there again. Instead, she began to circle around towards the western mountains. The hills became steeper and the trees and brush thicker almost immediately. She kept her clothes in her paws against her chest to protect them from the clinging bushes, but her legs were clawed several times by the brush.
Some of the canopy thinned out the further westward she went, until even the moon began to cast a silvery light upon the sylvan landscape. Surely the scouts would have seen her by now, but she did not care. Looking eastward, she could see smoke rising from the stacks of the Inn and from the brewery and the lights of the rest of the Glen laid out behind them.
Baerle continued on her course, swinging southeast then as the terrain began to slope downwards. Skidding on her paws in a few places, she made her way down the hillsides, avoiding the jumbles of rocks that jutted from the soil. It took her a good ten minutes to complete her way around, bringing herself to the western edge of the small lake that they used for their water. The moon shone bright upon it, and the water was still but for the trickling of the small streams that fed it, and the larger stream and dam where it emptied southwards.
Setting her clothes on a rock, Baerle glided down into the water, feeling the chill fill her bones almost immediately. It had been warmed from the day’s sun, but still, the mountain run off kept it near to freezing. She shivered as she rubbed her paw between her legs to work the fur of her thighs clean. She spent only a minute in the waters before she climbed back out and rubbed her paws over her fur to work most of the water out.
Still, she was bitterly cold, and so she took her clothes and rubbed them across her flesh, soaking up most of the water. By the time she felt that her fur was sufficiently dry, both her shirt and breeches were thoroughly soaked. Grimacing, Baerle tucked them back under her arm and began to climb up the path back into the Glen. It was not uncommon for Glenners to return unclothed from a swim, but it would still draw attention.
Let them look, she thought bitterly. Her face hanging in a detached moue, she scrambled up back to the town clearing itself, though she lingered along the edges until she found her way back to their home. The lamps were still lit inside she could see, though she could not see anyone through the bleary window panes. Circling around the front, somewhat relieved not to see any others about, she opened the door and slipped inside where it was warm.
“Baerle!” Kimberly exclaimed as she slunk inside, clothes dripping water upon the floor. “Where did you go?” the rat asked.”We were worried about you.” She was dressed in her nightclothes, standing in the doorway to the kitchen clutching a small cup of steaming tea.
Baerle was still shivering though, shook her head, feeling the tears from before coming back. “Come, sit by the fire,” Kimberly beckoned, moving surprisingly quickly for a pregnant woman. She guided the opossum over to where the fire crackled, and bade her sit down. She then took Baerle’s clothes and hung them out on the mantle where they would dry. Before another moment had passed, a warm blanket was draped over her shoulders, and Baerle felt the first of the warmth begin to seep back into her body.
She was still crying though, she realized, and crying uncontrollably. Kimberly’s face was quite confused. “What happened, Baerle? What’s the matter?”
Baerle frowned and lowered her muzzle, shutting her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Kimberly. I’m so sorry.”
Kimberly sniffed and wrinkled her nose. “You were drinking, but you don’t sound drunk.” There was no disapproval in her voice, as she would often give Charles when he came home inebriated. “What did you do?” Kimberly leaned over a bit, and winced at the pain in her back.
Baerle shook her head. “I...” but the words were choked off by another racking sob.
But the rat reached down and stroked a paw between her ears then, brushing and straightening out some of her head fur. “Just take it easy. You don’t have to tell me now. You look awful. Did you go swimming?” Baerle managed a nod at that. “Well, you just dry here. Let me get you something warm to drink. Would you like tea?”
When Baerle nodded again, Kimberly passed over her cup. Baerle took it in shaking paws, but managed to lap up a few sips. “I just... I just... couldn’t stand to see you and Charles...” she broke off into sobs again.
Kimberly blinked in surprise at that. “Do you mean earlier? I am sorry we left you there with the stew. That was rude of us. I told Charles he should apologize too. He’ll be back later this evening. He had to go scouting along the road.”
Baerle felt a bit better knowing that Charles would not have been able to see her dash through the woods. But still, she shook her head. “No, that’s not it. I just...” but she could not find the words to describe it. There was just so much she had to tell, and no way that she could get it from her voice then.
Kimberly finally managed to sit down next to her, the smaller rat huddling close to her, smiling warmly as the glint of the fire brightened her eyes. “It is all right, Baerle. You are my dearest friend. I trust you to help raise my children too, I don’t think I can handle the bundle coming!” she laughed, and Baerle did a little too. “Just tell me what is wrong when you are ready.”
Baerle frowned, the worst of the sobbing finally passed her. She lowered her eyes again, unable to look into Kimberly’s. There was such trust in those eyes, and to know that she had betrayed that trust, and did so every day, whenever she looked at Charles, felt like a knife wound in her chest. “I did get drunk,” she said at last, frowning, “and then I went off with Berchem.”
“The skunk archer?”
“The same. We had once been in love, Berchem and I,” Baerle went on, finding her voice stronger now, though she still felt her throat catch. “But six months ago he cast me out of his life. You see, he wanted very much to have an heir, and I was willing to be with him. He was strong and assertive, and I wanted that. Even stubborn. I don’t know why I like that, but a stubborn man just makes me smile.”
She laughed bitterly then and shook her head. Kimberly patted her back, a concerned look on her face. Baerle took another sip of the warm tea, though she barely tasted it. “I was suffering from some belly pains and so went to see Burris to see if he knew what they were. He told me that he could heal the pain, but the damage had already been done.”
“Damage?” Kimberly’s frown increased. “What damage?”
Baerle turned her head and looked down to the rat. Her voice was filled with the agony she felt that day, and subtly every day after, “I’m barren, Kimberly. I cannot have children of my own.”
Kimberly’s shock was palpable, and she leaned closer, wrapping one arm about her shoulders. “That’s horrible! And Berchem cast you out for it?”
Baerle nodded. “When I told him, he dismissed me as if I had never meant anything to him.”
“And you went off with him again tonight?”
“Aye, I was drunk, and I needed something. He was drunk too and was only happy to provide. That is until I called out another’s name while we made love.”
Kimberly blinked at that but stayed close. “There is another you love now?”
“Aye. Berchem did not like that, and threw me out of his home. I had to wash him from myself before I could come back.” Baerle shivered anew at the memory of the pool. But the warmth of the fire and of Kimberly’s proximity stilled it.
Kimberly pressed her head against Baerle’s shoulder then, hugging as best she could with her pregnant belly getting in the way. Baerle leaned into it for several moments, simply trying to still her wild emotions with her friend. But what had to come next frightened her like nothing else ever did. She whispered a prayer to Artela that her friend might forgive her. The fire crackled as her prayer ended, and she could not help but wonder if that had been a reply.
After several moments repose, Kimberly lifted her head slightly, whiskers trembling. “You said that you fell in love with another? Does that also hurt you?” Baerle nodded then, cradling the cup of tea in her paws tightly. Her tail curled firmly around her legs, the end tightening about one ankle. “May I ask who?”
Baerle sucked in her breath, and in the barest whisper said, “Charles.”
Kimberly blinked, ears turning forward. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite hear you. Who is it?”
Lifting her head, tears standing in her eyes as she met Kimberly’s, the opossum repeated that dread name. “Charles.”
Kimberly sat for a moment, her jaw lowering in surprise. Her eyes blinked, the moment of horror in them replaced with confusion and uncertainty. Almost instinctively, she drew back from the opossum, her paws stiffening only an inch from her friend. “Charles?” she asked at last, her voice almost strangled from her throat.
Baerle hung her head and nodded. “I’m so sorry, Kimberly. I fell in love with him when he saved my life during the siege. He never told me about you until it was all over. I... I wanted to meet you after you both came back to the Glen so I could drive you apart. I did want that until I met you, Kimberly. I cared about you, and I could see why Charles loved you so deeply.”
“You love him?” Kimberly repeated, still in a state of shock. She drew her paws back to herself, but did not move from where she sat.
“I have tried to banish it from me for four months now, but I cannot. Every time I try, every time I think of being with another, his face comes back, his voice, his name. But I love you too, Kimberly. I don’t want to hurt you or him. You are so special to me. I was wrong to leave the way I did tonight. I was selfish, and I should not have done that. I wanted him so badly I was willing to bed another and pretend it was him.” She pressed her paws to her face and the tears flowed once more. “I’ve never been so ashamed!”
Kimberly sat still for a moment before reaching out one paw and resting it upon Baerle’s back. “Baerle, I...” but her voice fell away, a quiet whispering against the weeping of the opossum. Still, the rat held her paw at her friend’s back, leaving it there to steady her as she cried.
Baerle could feel that paw, but could not understand why it was there. Any minute now, she knew that she should be cast from this house and asked never to return. What wife would dare have another woman in her home that was also in love with her husband?
“Baerle,” Kimberly began again, her voice soft, and uncertain. “I still care for you. I don’t know what to say though. You have been a friend to me for so long now, but to hear this? I am... confused. I need to sleep and think. So should you.”
Baerle lifted her face from her paws. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No,” Kimberly shook her head. “No, do not leave. Sleep in your room tonight. Do not speak of this to Charles. Let me speak to him first. Do you need any help?”
“Help?”
“Getting to your room?”
Baerle shook her head then, choking back her sobs. “No.” Kimberly did not seem angry with her, and she could not understand why. But then again, she had never been this distant either. “Do you need help?” she offered.
The rat nodded slowly, holding up her arms. Baerle came around behind her and hoisted her back onto her hind paws. “Thank you, Baerle,” she said politely. “Sleep well. You may keep the tea.”
Kimberly turned and went back to the doorway. She pushed past the tapestry, but turned at the last moment. “Please do not disturb me. I care for you Baerle, and I do not want to hurt you, but I need to think.”
“Sleep well, my lady,” Baerle said, lowering her head. Kimberly frowned a bit, and then let the tapestry fall back into place. Turning, the opossum carried both tea cup and blanket up the narrow winding stairs that led to the next level. There was but one lamp lit still there, and she carried it with her into her room. Laying the blanket down in one unused corner, she set the tea and lamp beside her own pallet, and then laid down.
Strangely, curled in her own bedsheets, it did not take long for her to get to sleep.
|