2.1 & 2.2

Chapter Two:  If You Keep Everything That You Catch, What Will You Catch Tomorrow?

-1-

Ishitar shifted nervously at Loki’s side.  The night before, Loki had announced to him, quite nonchalantly, that he was paying a visit to Lord Lucias and that Ishitar’s presence was required.  Now they stood outside of Lord Lucias’ cottage door, Loki whistling a strange and happy tune to himself and Ishitar trying to hold down his lunch.

He was overwhelmingly grateful that he had decided to bring Ansibrius with him.  The dog, who was laying at his feet with his front paws crossed and his head between them, whining, somehow made him feel less frightened than he knew that he would have been had he decided t o leave Ansibrius home. 

            It wasn’t that he didn’t want to meet Lord Lucias.  He did.  And desperately.  But he had gleaned, through listening to conversations amongst the Quorum which were not meant for his ears, that, in many ways, Lord Lucias was a much more powerful God than Ishitar’s father.

            Not by his actual magic.  The Quorum held the belief that the two Gods were equally matched in that regard.  Rather, from what Ishitar had been able to ascertain from conversations that he had not been intended to hear, Lord Lucias was the more powerful of the two because he had the ability to reason and dissect a point. 

Where Lord Noliminan had a thought and was unswayable, Lord Lucias had a thought and became quizzical.  While Lord Noliminan tended to puzzle out what he wanted in the here and now, Lord Lucias made long term forecasts to ensure that his actions here and now would result in his long term goal.

            Lord Noliminan never had, so far as any member of the Quorum knew, bested Lord Lucias at castles.

            It was a silly thing to dwell upon given that the game of castles was just that:  a game. But it was a game of prediction and strategy.  A person could learn much about his opponent by the time one player’s hillock or the other was taken out.  That Lord Lucias had never lost a game of castles to Lord Noliminan in all of the years of their existence and since the game had been created by those two said much about both his intelligence and his character.

            Irritated, Loki raised his hand and knocked again.  His playful whistle became a sort of chuckle as he did so.  “Lucias’ brat never has been one to open the door in a timely manner.”

            The dog at their feet looked up at Loki and whined.  As for Ishitar, he gave Loki a guarded smile.  He was upset and he didn’t want Loki to know that.

            When the door did open, Loki took a step back, almost as if surprised.  Ishitar could certainly understand why.  The woman on the other side was breathtaking.  Her long black hair shimmered in the morning light and her fiery red and orange eyes danced as if made of actual flames. 

Ishitar thought, as he looked upon the beautiful creature that she was the perfect picture of the idealistic woman.

            Until, that was, she spoke.

            She snorted and then, in a cold and toneless voice, spat, “Oh.  It’s just you.”

            Loki cocked his head as he assessed her.  When Loki spoke his tone was more than a little amused.  “So it is.  Is our Lord in his library this morning?”

            “Ta.”  She replied, turning and sashaying away.

            Loki, chuckling, shook his head.  He turned his gaze toward Ishitar and mouthed “Lady Sappharon.”

            Ishitar, not quite understanding this turn of events, shook his head and followed Loki into his mother’s home.  Ansibrius, he noticed, didn’t follow.  Rather, he continued to sit on the front stoop with his nose buried under his paw, whining.

            “Come on, boy.”  Ishitar said, as he turned toward the dog, lowered himself to his hunkers and held out his hand. 

            Ansibrius didn’t budge.  He merely lay there and whined.

            “Ansibrius.”  Ishitar called again, this time with a slightly commanding tone.

            “Leave him be.”  Lady Sappharon said.  “If he doesn’t want to come in you mustn’t force him.”  She lowered herself to Lord Ishitar’s side, turning her strange, fiery gaze, so alike to Lord Raziel’s, in Ishitar’s direction.  “I don’t know if you remember me.”

            Ishitar turned to face her, gave her a smile and shook his head.  “I’m sorry, my Lady.  I do not.”

            Lady Sappharon reached forward and grasped a length of his long brown hair.  “I helped Lady Zamyael raise you until it was necessarily time that we let you go.”

            “Thank you.”  Ishitar replied, finding a true smile for her.

            “Oh, my sweet Ishitar.”  She said, her hand cupping his cheek.  “It was my pleasure.”  And then with a small chuckle.  “Such a sweet baby.  You never caused any one of us any trouble.”

            Ishitar grinned at that.  As he did so, he watched as Ansibrius found his feet, whined again and then turned around to step off of the porch.  Laughing, he said.  “I don’t know what has gotten into him.”

            “Never you mind Ansibrius.”  Lady Sappharon said.  “See to your mother.  I shall see to your pup.”

            Thanking the Lady, Ishitar stood and turned toward Lord Lucias’ rooms.

The sitting room was cozy and welcoming.  As Ishitar looked around his eyes danced from one piece of bric-a-brac to the other.  Many of these baubles were as ancient as the first moon from the first world.  He found it both strange and comforting that Lord Lucias had collected and kept these things rather than letting them be destroyed by antiquity.

            Loki began walking through the room to a door that was set in a wall past the couches and chairs.  As he raised his hand to knock, Ishitar pulled his gaze away from Lord Lucias’ things and followed.  When he heard Lord Lucias’ deep voice resonating through the door, he felt himself shiver with an ambivalence of anticipation and apprehension. “Come.”

            Loki gave Ishitar a patient smile and opened the door.  He stepped in first, with Ishitar close on his heels.  As Ishitar raised his gaze and met that of Lord Lucias, Lord Lucias froze with his lips parted and his dark brown eyes wide. 

            The surprise and fear of Lord Lucias seeing his son for the first time since Ishitar’s infancy was palpable as Lord Lucias reconciled his conflicted soul.

            “My Gods . . .” He finally said as his eyes darted to Loki.  “Is this . . .?”

            “Yes, my Lord.”  Loki gave him an adulating smile.  “This is your son.”

            Lord Lucias beamed at Ishitar.  At the same time, he seemed to be admonishing himself for his disdain, “You shouldn’t have brought him here!  There will be Hells fire to pay for you if Noliminan finds out.”

            “I was specifically told that Ishitar should learn what I do.”  Loki shrugged.  “I assumed that Lord Noliminan understands that part of what I do is make my reports to you.”

            Lord Lucias, still grinning, shook his head.  “I think we both know better than that.”  He slipped around the desk, walking swiftly toward Ishitar.  As he did so, his form changed.  He was no longer Lord Lucias, but Lady Lucias.  Ishitar’s mother.  And she was, in Ishitar’s opinion, the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen.

            At his side, Loki literally gasped.

When she reached him, she raised her hands upward and set them on Ishitar’s shoulders.  Her beautiful dark brown eyes drank in every line of Ishitar’s face.  That pleased—almost loving—smile never left her strikingly beautiful face.  “My Gods.  You look just like your father.”

            Ishitar smiled in response to this.  “He tells me that I look just like you.”

            Lady Lucias grinned.  As she did so she let out a merry little laugh that washed through Ishitar’s soul and brought him such great peace that he thought he might explode.  “Yes.”  She nodded.  “But you do have his eyes.”

            “I do.”  Ishitar replied.  He chose not to share his father’s tired old joke with the Lady.  He thought, maybe, Lady Lucias might take offense at Lord Noliminan’s barb that she might have lain with another as a female aside from him.

            “Loki, dear,” she looked in Loki’s direction, “may I spend time alone with my son?”

            “Of course, my  . . . eh . . . Lord.”  He replied, his tone lusty and his expression eager.  “I see you have a new pretty that I might pass my time with.”

            A strange look crossed Lady Lucias’ face as she tore her gaze away from Ishitar.  “Yes.”  She said.  “We’ll most definitely have to talk about the implications of that complication before you leave.”

            “I’m all a flutter in anticipation.”  Loki replied with nervous laugh.  “Let me know when you’re ready for me to join you.”

            Lady Lucias nodded and dismissed Loki without another word.  Her hands still on Ishitar’s shoulders, she brought her son forward and into her arms.  Ishitar allowed her to take her liberties, breathing in the essence of her as he did so.  Her warm scent of cloves and old spices was comforting and distantly familiar.

            She released Ishitar, though it seemed a reluctant move.  As she did so, she took a step back and held out her hand to the sitting area at the end of the grand room.  “Please.  Won’t you sit with me?  I must know everything about you.”

            Ishitar complied, choosing to sit at the end of the sofa.  The Lady took one of the high backed, leather chairs.  Her figure in that chair was commanding.  There was no denying that she belonged on the throne that was currently being occupied by Lord Raziel.

            “Has your father been kind to you?”  This question was brokered with slight hesitation. 

            “He has.”  Ishitar assured his mother.  “I mean, I was raised by the Quorum.  But he paid me visit from time to time.”

            “From time to time?”  Her dark eyes narrowed slightly.  Her expression was somewhat affronted. 

            “As his scheduled allowed.”  Ishitar explained.

            The Lady’s jaw clenched and she made a funny little whistle through her teeth.  Ishitar found himself smiling at that.  Once, during one of Michael’s many parties where only the members of the Quorum—but for Zadkiel, who didn’t mingle with his brothers—and Ishitar were in attendance, the Quorum had tried to describe that whistle to Ishitar after many of them had had too much to drink.  Their playful mocking of Ishitar’s mother when she was irritated or angry now invaded Ishitar’s mind in an uninvited wave.  Thinking of Michael, wearing a concentrated look and stoic expression, it took everything in Ishitar not to laugh.

            It was the only time in all of the years that Ishitar had known Michael that Michael had openly mocked either one of Ishitar’s parents.  And it had amused Ishitar beyond all telling.

            “Did I say something funny?”  The Lady asked, her expression softening.

            “No.”  He shook his head and let out the laughter that was dancing in his mind.  “I was just thinking about Michael.”

            “Michael?”  This made her smile.

            “Yes.” He nodded.  “He once did an imitation of you that was extremely funny to me.  You just recalled it in my mind.”

            “Did he now?”  Her eyes narrowed slightly.  But there was no admonishment in them.  Rather, she seemed surprised. 

            “He meant you no disrespect.”  Ishitar, suddenly fearful that Michael would be punished for his playful mocking of her, assured her. 

            “No.”  She agreed, her eyes returning to their right.  “He never does.”

            “He misses you.”  Ishitar braved.  “They all do.”  She suddenly wore a sad smile.  “They tried not to talk about you when I was around.  But when they were drinking or if they didn’t notice me listening I sometimes overheard them wishing that they might see you again.”

            “I miss them too.”  She sighed.  “You can tell them as much when you see them.”

            “I will, my Lady.”  Ishitar promised.

            “Thank you.”  She began toying with the crease in her pants.  Ishitar realized that she hadn’t changed her clothing from that that she had been wearing in her male form.  This made him smile.  “How are you at castles?”

            “Adept.”  Ishitar replied, his smile broadening. 

            “Shall we play a game or two?”

            “If you have the time to spare for me.”  Ishitar replied, eagerly.  A single game of castles could last hours.  Or, with two adept players, even days.

            “For you, my dear,” She said, raising her gaze and meeting Ishitar’s own, “I shall now and ever, hereafter, make the time.”

-2-

            Sappharon lowered himself on the bottom step of the porch.  He looked around himself, searching for his daughter, his lips thin and his fear thrumming throughout his body. 

What was Na’amah thinking?  To show herself was one thing.  But to place herself at Lord Ishitar’s side? 

There was no possibility that she would escape with her life when her true identity was discovered..

“Ansibrius.”  He muttered.

The ‘dog’, who was hiding in the shadows of the trees, whined.

“Na’amah.”  Sappharon whispered.

Silence.  For a moment.  And, then, “Father.”

“Stay in your current form.”  He muttered.  “Azrael only knows when that bearded freak will join us.”

The beautifully made dog stepped out of the trees and lowered his head to rest upon Sappharon’s bare feet.  Sappharon, smiling, reached downward and scratched him between his ears. 

“I know not what you are up to.”  He muttered.  “But don’t you dare hurt that child.”

The dog whined again, shaking his head.

“I love him.”  Sappharon whispered.  “As if he were mine own.”  He cleared his throat and shook his head.  “I love him as if he is your brother.  Do you ken?”

The dog whined again and raised its mismatched eyes to Sappharon’s own.  They were warm with confusion and discontent.

“I know it doesn’t make any sense.”  Sappharon whispered.  “But I beg you, girl.”  He sighed, looking up to the sky.  “Don’t harm him.”

The dog whined.

“Na’amah,”  He whispered, “Now that Ishitar has returned to my Lord Lucias . . . You . . .If you will take my counsel . . .”  He swallowed the love for his child and looked swiftly away.  “If you will take my counsel, then you can return to me.”

“My Lord?”  Not a whine this time, but words.

“I love you.”  He said swiftly and under his breath.  “Love me in return.”  He sighed.  “Every visit that Lord Ishitar makes upon Lord Lucias brings your visit upon me.”  He lowered his gaze again and whispered.  “If you love me.  And if you want to see me.”

“I do.”  She replied.  The words were swift, and they swiftly turned into a howl.  Loki had opened the door and was, now, standing within it.

“My Lady?”  The grotesque Neanderthal asked.  “Are you alright?”

“Ta.”  Sappharon grumbled, reaching between his daughters ears and scratching there.  “I think our Lord Ishitar’s puppy is simply just that:  a frightened puppy.”

Loki sighed, stepped forward and lowered himself beside Sappharon.  “May I ask you, my Lady, for some honesty?”

Sappharon started and turned toward his long lived nemeses.  “I’ve never lied to you.”

“I know.”  Loki sighed.  Then with a smile, “You’ve never liked me enough to spare me your true opinion.”  Sappharon couldn’t deny that.  “Why, exactly, are we enemies rather than friends?”

“I . . .” Sappharon shook his head.  He rolled his eyes closed and then snapped, “Because he loves you more than he loves me!”

“Do you honestly believe that, Sappharon?”  Loki asked gently.

“Yes.”  He growled.

Loki sighed.  “It isn’t me who he has asked to have his children.”

Sappharon started.  He turned toward Loki and licked his lip.  “How did you know he has asked me to bear his children?”

“My Lady.”  Loki reached for Sappharon’s hand, raised it to his lips and then kissed it.  “You verily glow.”  He chuckled then.  “I know that you think that he loves me more.  But he doesn’t.”  He leaned forward and kissed Sappharon’s cheek.  Sappharon felt his cheeks flush hot.  “You are a piece of him.”  Loki muttered.  “While I . . .” He laughed.  “I am merely his clown.”

Sappharon frowned at that, “You aren’t his clown.” 

“Thank you for saying that.”  Loki sighed.  “I am, but . . .” He laughed.  “Why did you agree to bear his children?”

“Because I love him.”  Sappharon replied, crossing his arms over his breasts.  “And his children are the least that I would give him.”

Loki sighed, squeezed his hand, and smiled.  “So what do you make of our young Lord?”

“He’s the very image of his mother.”  Sappharon replied, grinning.  He didn’t want to like anything at all about Loki, but he couldn’t deny that he was pleased that Loki would be charged with caring for Ishitar.  He would take care of Ishitar because he loved Lord Lucias.  Sappharon couldn’t deny that.  “Only more handsome yet.  I’d never thought such a thing to be possible.”

“Nor did I.”  Loki admitted with a strange smile.  Sappharon knew that Loki struggled with his desire for Lord Lucias because Lord Lucias had told him as much.  “But you’re right.  He has a beauty about him that is not to be described with words.”

“What is he like, Loki?”  Sappharon asked, turning toward him.

“Very kind.”  Loki replied.  “And thoughtful.  Both towards others and in his manner of reasoning.  He does seem to find the actions of others interesting.  Often times, I’ll find myself catching him sitting across the room simply watching me.  I don’t think he quite knows what to make of Aiken.”  He chuckled.  “Or Zuko for that matter.”

“I’m not sure what to make of Zuko myself.”  Sappharon snapped.  “He betrayed our Lord during his war with Lord Noliminan.”

“I know.”  Loki sighed.  “It’s been hard for me to accept Lord Lucias’ choice in having him see to Lord Ishitar as well.”  He shook his head.  “But past is past.  And if Lord Lucias can forgive him, then who am I to hold a grudge.”

Sappharon snorted at that.

Standing, Loki held out his hand.  “Come.  I’ll make the four of us some lunch.”

Very hesitantly, not quite trusting this new peace that sat between them, Sappharon took Loki’s hand in his own and stood.