Rituals
The next morning found her head aching. She had spent the night in Stormwind, too drunk and too angry to head for Ironforge. The pain and nausea brought some clarity to her thinking, however, and she realized her behavior had been less than stellar. A quick bath, and she readied her gear, stopping by SI:7 to pick up supplies. Time for some training, to refresh the Laws in her head.
Bjorke headed for Blade’s Edge Mountains. The Cenarions there had managed to keep a peaceful setting, amid the chaos that reigned around them. They had some work they needed done, to fight back the Wyrmcultists. Bjorke was ready to help, to fight for justice for the peaceful Cenarions.
Death. Strength. Wisdom. Honor. Love. She chanted the Laws to herself as she worked – it became almost a war cry as she fought. She did not fear her own death… but to be left behind again… Bjorke pushed ahead. Strength. She drew it from her own will, and from Edrick. His strength had saved her before, but was it enough? Wisdom. At least she recognized her own foolish behavior from last night – before there were any dire consequences. Honor. Was there Honor in her future? Couldn’t it be enough to just be together? Love. What she felt was so deep, so primal, it seemed to go beyond Love.
Her work completed, she headed back to town. Her head was even less clear than when she had woken. She found a tree to sit under, and began cleaning her weapons. Chanting the words again, not thinking, but just chanting, she let her hands work, the motions repetitive and soothing. Her mind calmed gradually. She put her weapons away, and sat with her eyes closed, still chanting.
A familiar clank of armor roused her. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. His face was creased in worry. She smiled faintly at him. “What is wrong, my love? You have been acting so strangely. Is it the Arena matches?” He sat down next to her.
Bjorke shook her head. “It’s not that. I … I just… “ her voice trailed off and she looked away. “Nice up here, isn’t it? So peaceful.”
Edrick looked around. “Yes, amazing how calm in a sea of chaos.” He put his hand on her shoulder gently. “Bjorke… tell me what troubles you.”
“I had a fight with my sister… I was pretty rude to her.”
Frowning, he asked, “What about?”
Bjorke stood, and walked a few steps away, silent for several long minutes. Finally, a dam broke, and she turned, her face agitated, waving her arms about as she spoke. “She has some storybook notion of what is to happen next. Just because you and I are together, what gives her the right to make such assumptions?” Edrick looked at her in confusion. “Why in perdition does she think we are to be married? What’s the point? And besides, who is she to talk… Mingus has proposed a dozen times to her and she still refuses… It’s not like it’s any sort of guarantee, is it? Look at Mabon and Kelandros! They had a fairytale and see what happened? Look at our other friends… “ Bjorke reeled off a list of people they knew who were no longer married, and then added quietly, “Me and Tiene.”
His face still furrowed in bewilderment, he asked calmly, “So… she thinks we should marry?”
Bjorke waved her arms about again. “Yes! As if that was some sort of talisman… Why can’t we just go on as we have been?”
“If that is what you wish, then that is fine with me.” His voice held a hint of sadness.
“I mean, we know how we feel about each other, and we are together now… for as long as it lasts.”
This comment brought his head up quickly. “You doubt my love for you?”
“I have never doubted anything you have ever said to me. You are a man of your word. But we are no different from any of the other people who walk the earth.”
“What is it then? You know I would come back even from the Pit to be with you.”
“Things happen…. People… die… or leave… or something.” She shrugged, looking as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders.
“Death is not an ending. It is a new beginning. You know this.”
“For the one who dies, yes… But not for the one who is left behind.”
Edrick moved in front of her, kneeling down, and took her hand. Bjorke’s eyes grew wide in near-panic, thinking of what he might do next. But being unfamiliar with human customs, Edrick regarded her expression with puzzlement. “If you are happy the way we are, then that is enough for me.”
“Good. That’s settled then.” She smiled at him. “So… how’s the Arena fighting going?”
He stood, turning away slightly, so she would not see the sadness in his face. “Well enough. There is much to be learned. It has been a long time.”
“Strength and Wisdom,” she said in Althorin, reciting two of the Laws.
“Strength and Wisdom,” he repeated, his voice cracking with emotion.
“Edrick… what is it? Why are you sad?” This time it was Bjorke’s face that was creased in worry.
“I’m fine,” he said, giving her back her standard answer.
She smiled at him. “You manage to get me to tell you things I would tell no other.”
Nodding, he said quietly, “I suppose it is only fair.” He sat down, then reached up and pulled her down next to him. He wrapped his arm around her, cradling her close. “When I lost my wife and child, I thought I would never marry again. There were many lovers over the years, but my emotions never ran deep enough… until I met you.”
“You mean… when we fell in love… We knew each other for some time before that.”
He smiled, amused. “Yes, that’s what I mean. When we make love, and when we fight side by side, it is perfect. As if nothing else exists. I have not felt like that in a very long time. I thought I never would again.”
“Yes, I do enjoy our time together. I love being with you.” They sat in silence for some time.
Taking a deep breath, Edrick said quietly, “You are a part of me, beloved. Forever.”
Turning to smile at him, Bjorke saw the seriousness in his eyes, the tears welling up, threatening to spill down his face. She jumped up and moved away from him. “Oh by the gods!” she exclaimed, waving her hands around. “You do want some sort of ritual, don’t you?” She stamped her foot on the rock in frustration.
“Yes, I suppose I do. I want to be with you as your husband.” The tears broke free, and streamed down his face. Unable to bear it any longer, she turned away, wiping at her own face.
“I can’t give you what you want,” she sniffed.
“Can’t? or won’t?” His voice was low, and husky, full of emotion.
Bjorke kept her back to him, and pressed her hands to her belly, over the jagged scar. “I … can’t” she choked out.
“You mean… a.. child?” He took a step towards her, and put his hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him.
She nodded. “If it could happen, it would have by now.” She could not raise her eyes to meet his.
“I have thought of this. We can adopt; raise a child as if it is our own.” His voice was kind, and gentle.
“But.. your culture… it shouldn’t end with you.”
Gently, he tipped her chin up and kissed her. “I would rather it all end than to spend a moment without you.”
Searching his face, she asked, “Do you mean that?”
“Of course, my love. It’s you I want.”
She smiled, and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight. “Good. Then that’s settled.”
