Martin arrives at Folly's chamber in short order after Gerard dismisses him, which will probably be after he's located a room for Robin. He's clearly been off the road for a while -- he no longer stinks of horse -- but he hasn't had a chance to change clothes or bathe, either.
Martin knocks on the door first, but opens it himself, not waiting for Folly (unless it's locked, of course). What he says is: "I'm home."
Folly rises from her desk, where she's been writing, and crosses the room to Martin, beaming. She looks tired, Martin thinks, and perhaps a little thinner than when last he saw her.
She takes his hand -- her own is shaking a little -- and pulls him just far enough into the room to close the door behind him; then she turns and embraces him. "I'm glad you're back," she says. "I've missed you."
"I've missed you too, babe," Martin says, hugging Folly back. "I didn't mean to be gone so long. We went through a slow-time pocket deep in Arden, and we didn't know how long we were gone until we got back." He strokes Folly's hair. "How are you doing?"
Folly looks briefly puzzled at Martin's casual mention of a "slow-time pocket"; but she either pieces together what she wants to know or files her question away for later.
At Martin's question, Folly replies, "Better, suddenly," and her smile is almost bright enough to hide the darkness behind her eyes; "but it's been kind of a rough few weeks. I haven't quite been myself. I mean, I got into a quarrel with Paige, and she had to calm me down -- and every time I turn around, someone's handing me a baby." She laughs mirthlessly and shakes her head, then hugs Martin a little tighter. "I jumped to some conclusions that really scared me," she adds quietly before releasing him and leading him toward the couch.
She's about halfway there when she stops, abruptly, and says, "I'm sorry, sweetheart -- I'm being so selfish. Did you maybe want to freshen up or something? Not that you need to on my account, of course. I can wait, though, if you want to."
"If you can tolerate the stink, I'm used to it. The only thing I really need right now is food. Gerard ordered up a snack, but it wasn't enough. Christ, I'd never make a Ranger. Now I know how Julian stays so damned lean!"
Martin pulls Folly the rest of the way over to the couch and flops in a boneless heap, offering Folly the opportunity to sit in or lie across his lap if she wants. "Now tell me what you're so upset about, and about your snit with Paige. And everything else that happened in all the time I was chasing my own tail in Arden. And then I'll tell you about my week."
Folly's eyes widen -- if she didn't understand the concept of a slow-time pocket before, she does now. "I'll go ahead and order up some food," she says, "because my months will take much longer to describe than your week."
Folly steps out into the hall, finds a page, and sends him off to retrieve dinner enough for three people. She's seen Martin eat.
The page scurries off to fetch dinner.
When she returns, she climbs into Martin's lap and buries her face in his shoulder for a few minutes before she says anything.
Martin holds Folly tight until she indicates she's ready to pull away.
Finally, she looks up with a dazed, almost shell-shocked expression, and says, "It all sounds stupid, now that I know you're OK...."
She takes a deep breath and begins her story. "When we heard they'd found Kina wandering the forest, and no sign of you and Brita, I knew something had to be really wrong. I mean, if you went to all the trouble to take her with you, why would you let her fly and then shift somewhere she couldn't follow, and not come back for her? It just didn't make any sense -- I couldn't make it make sense.
"And so many people have gone missing lately -- Archer's getting reports from the dockside, Felicity says her friends keep going away --" She doesn't mention Jerod and Solange, but Martin knows they're foremost on her mind; "-- I was really starting to think that terrible things were happening to all of them, like maybe they were just... ceasing to exist." She shudders, but plows ahead with her narrative, obviously not wanting to dwell on the thought any more than necessary.
"And then, in the middle of it all, Paige and Reid and Cambina decide they're going on a little Shadow hike, to look for the place Reid found first when he tried to get to Amber, and -- and I freaked out and yelled at Paige because I was afraid something awful would happen -- but I *still* think I'm right, even if I was wrong, y'know? I mean, she thinks with her heart and I can't fault her for that, because I do, too, but I at least also use my head, sometimes." She sounds frustrated, mostly, but also a little sad.
Folly falls silent, giving Martin a chance to respond, and giving herself a chance to calm down and gather her thoughts.
Martin listens silently to the entire story, occasionally giving Folly a gentle squeeze at the obvious places. He sighs at the end. "Cambina was in on this plan to take three of our shadow-walkers on a vacation to nowhere? And she chides me for being irresponsible." He shakes his head.
"So my week went like this: we rode out into the woods, flying Kina, we realized we couldn't find her, figured out we'd been shifted, and then realized we were still on the trail. So we chased down the campsite where the missing patrol had been and found someone had joined up with them. So then we chased down where they'd gone next, following a neat little shadowpath back to where another patrol had been. And we chased them down: they included one Avid, who is a known Ranger troublemaker. It turns out the person who found the missing patrol was the mysterious Robin."
He continues: "We rounded everyone up and went back to one of the patrol waystations, and I decided to bring Robin along. You'll meet her tomorrow. Anyway, she's Julian's daughter, but it was clear she didn't want to admit it -- she was playing dumb about the shadowpaths until I pointed out I could tell she'd carved one, the one I'd followed. And I convinced her to talk to Gerard and help us out. Julian had obviously told her to play her cards close to her vest. Christ, I hope I did the right thing." Martin leans back for a moment, and looks at the ceiling.
"So she just got finished with Gerard and -- here I am."
The page knocks on the door and announces the arrival of cold dinner: bread, cheese, cold meats and the like. He brings in the tray and sets it down on the table, then is gone. Martin assembles a sort of baguette sandwich, which, if he is not called upon for further conversation, he will begin to eat.
Folly takes a small piece of bread and nibbles at it while Martin eats, watching him in a contemplative sort of silence. It's not 'til he's almost done with his sandwich that she asks, "So which part freaked you out?"
Martin looks mildly surprised. "Freaked? Do I look freaked?"
Folly smiles at that. "You never look freaked, love," she says affectionately. "Damn poker face."
She regards him again, brow furrowed, like she's trying to work something out. "No, it's more of a vibe. A -- a dissonance, maybe." She hesitates, then asks, "Do you feel freaked?"
Martin finishes the last bite of his sandwich, chews, and swallows before answering.
"I can't hide anyting from you, can I?" But his tone is more bantering than complaining.
"All this has just made me think about some things ... things I don't like to think about. That's all."
"...which means you probably don't want to talk about them, either," Folly says, oddly relieved that the troubled vibe wasn't all in her head. "But do you need to?"
Martin looks at Folly, then looks away for a moment, almost as if she's too bright a light for him to look directly at, then looks back at her again for a long moment before speaking.
"I don't think I know what I need. What I know is that I can't lie to you, and if you ask me, I'll tell you anything." He actually sounds mildly distraught now.
Folly looks as if she's just been handed something rare and precious that she's afraid of dropping. "I don't know what's best, either," she says, running her fingers through her hair. "Maybe talking will make the pain worse. Maybe the knowing will be worse than the not knowing. But...."
She reaches out and takes Martin's hand, noting once again the calluses marking him as both artist and fighter. "Whatever it is, I can't bear to see you go through it alone. I'd rather hold your hand at the gates of Hell than dwell in the valley of Assama with a wall between us. Tell me what's troubling you." Her voice is calm and comforting, but her grip tightens slightly on Martin's hand, like she's steeling herself to face a nightmare.
Martin draws Folly in, resting her head on his chest and stroking her hair. "It's ... I don't even know how to start. It was just listening to myself today, what was going through my head while I was listening to Robin and Gerard. How it was so convenient that she showed up where and when she did, how it just happened that she ended up with one of the real troublemakers in the Rangers, how she could have been on the Black Road for four years when it's been gone from here all that time.
"And I felt like such a shit. She's just like the rest of us, and she trusted my word enough to tell Gerard who she was. And I repay that by being a suspicious asshole. Maybe she went looking for that jerk Avid because she used to date him or something, y'know? We all have to stick together, and me, I just sound like -- like --"
Martin pauses, and spits it out. "Dad. And Grandfather. And Grandmother too, curse her rotten soul."
"And Soren," Folly adds, her voice tinged with melancholy affection. "Remember Soren? Surly guy, implicitly threatened to beat you up? We argued about this all the time. Where do you draw the line between protecting yourself and hurting those around you, or sabotaging your own peace?"
"I remember Soren," says Martin, suddenly melancholy himself in the middle of his anger. "He's the other guy who's hopelessly in love with you."
Folly swallows hard, clearing the lump in her throat, before she continues:
"You told me once that you were trying to learn to live in peace. I see what you mean -- if everyone you meet is first and foremost a possible enemy, the war never really ends, does it? But you have to believe the war is over before you can start to make your own peace. Unfortunately, with this family, it can be hard to tell the difference."
"But that's just it," says Martin. "The war's not over." He runs his free hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face.
"I'd never say this to anyone but you -- but what if Benedict loses?"
"I don't know," Folly says quietly. "Maybe the world ends. But if it takes us with it, at least that's the end of our worries, right?" Her words don't come out quite as light as she'd intended, though.
She sits up and looks into Martin's eyes. "But, look, I've already survived one apocalypse, thanks to you. If there are pieces left when it's all over, we'll pick them up and build something new. We'll make it, baby -- I know we will." Folly brushes Martin's hair back with her fingertips and kisses his forehead tenderly.
"I'm glad you have such faith in me," Martin says. "I wish I had that much faith in myself.
"Sometimes, I have nightmares about it. Benedict losing, I mean. If Brand returned victorious, I mean assuming he didn't drag someone up to the Pattern, wherever it is, and bleed him all over it -- if he came directly here, I'd try to kill him, of course. If Jerod were here, I'd trust him to back my play, but alone? I don't know if I could manage it. Brand's not used to physical attacks, I think. It would be my best chance, but not a good one.
"I'm afraid of what would happen to you if I failed and died in the trying. I know you love Paige, but she's not reliable where Brand is concerned." Martin puts a finger to Folly's lips to silence the anticipated protest. "No, I mean it. She's in love with him, like, like you and Dad. I couldn't swear to it in a court of law, but I'd put pearls to fishes that she slept with him. Or if she didn't, it wasn't for lack of trying on her part."
The protest dies on Folly's lips, and she nods, looking terribly sad.
He continues: "If it comes to that, you have to run away, Folly. And don't let anyone contact you by Trump. You're stronger than just about anyone I know, just not like that. Not yet, anyway."
"I will, but -- but," Folly stammers, not feeling at all strong, "run where? With whom? I can't get very far on my own, yet."
"In your shoes? Arden. If you get lost like Brita and I did, so much the better."
Martin reaches into the neck of Folly's blouse, seeking a silk-corded pendant, which he means to pull out and hold up to the light. "It's my one regret about the night of Lucas' wedding, you know. That all our waiting and our honor might be for nothing."
"We still have time to change our minds," Folly says, and as Martin's fingers graze her collarbone, she looks ready to do just that. But she takes a deep breath and continues, "If we're going to regret something, though, I'd rather it be that we didn't make love than that we did." She takes another deep breath and adds, "I think."
Martin holds the multicolored rock for a moment, then lets it fall back against Folly's chest. "I'd put pearls to fishes on Benedict against Brand anyway." He grins, suddenly amused. "I suppose I already have."
Folly grins, too, and fingers her pendant. "So, what if Benedict wins? When the Elders come home, do we get a holiday?"
Martin shakes his head to indicate a negative. "They'll be coming back from a war. And based on what I know about where they've been, they'll need the vacation even more than we do."
"Well, at least maybe they won't rush back and undo whatever tiny bit of good we've accomplished in their absence," Folly says wryly.
She settles back against Martin's chest, still rolling the bright stone between her fingers. "I hope with every cell of my body that it never comes to pass, of course, but I'm sort of glad you've got a plan for the worst-case scenario. I want a plan for the best-case scenario, too, though. One where --" She hesitates, then says, "One where I get to go home."
Martin draws Folly in close, but the protective strength of his arms around her doesn't disguise that he was momentarily stricken by her words. After a moment he says, "Dad can probably take you there."
"Yeah, but -- could you?" Folly asks, a little hesitantly, like she's not sure why it suddenly seems so important that he come with her. "You've been there once before, and I could sing you everything else you'd need to know. It wouldn't be for long -- just a couple of days, so I'd know they still exist, and vice versa."
Martin takes a long time before answering, stroking Folly's hair occasionally as he thinks of what to say. "I can't leave right now, because I'm responsible for Robin, and I'm already overdue for my next trading expedition. If you really want me to try when I come back, I'll free up a few days and we can. But, Folly, I was only there once, at night, and I had a guide to get there. I could have found Heerat because I lived there for years. And even so, there are places that we simply can't find any more."
He pauses, then says: "Dad's better at that sort of thing than I am, and he lived there with you. I don't know that I can find Texorami, even with your help -- not right now. And, Folly, it might be that even Dad couldn't find it." And he shudders slightly, holding her tighter for a moment, as if thinking of that black wall of nothingness bearing down on them as he Trumped them out of her apartment.
"Or we might get back there and find that we had ended up somewhere like Texorami, but different. You might go back to what we think is Texorami and find a near shadow of yourself. I don't think either of us want that."
"Hell, sometimes I think I'm a near shadow of myself," Folly says with just a touch of bitterness. "Maybe meeting another one wouldn't be so bad. Unless --" and now her tone is more joking than bitter "-- you liked her better."
"You're perfect," says Martin, half-chiding, half-affectionate.
"I'm not," Folly says. "But then, I don't aspire to be."
She presses her pendant to her lips for a moment, tucks it back into her shirt, and then wraps her arms around Martin. "It's not that important," she says. "I can worry about it when the war is over. I just wish there was some way I could let them know I'm OK."
"If you want to try to go to Texorami, you know I'll take you as soon as I can. I'm just worried about failing you," Martin says. "I don't want you to wait until the war is over if that starts to be too long."
"Well," Folly says, "let's wait a while and see what happens. Maybe if there's a lull after your next trading voyage, we can try then. My need for... comfort, or closure, or whatever this is... isn't nearly as important as getting people fed."
She lets her head droop against Martin's chest, taking comfort in the warm strength of his arms and the scent of his skin, as she relaxes for the first time in weeks. When she speaks again, she sounds just a little drowsy.
"So, speaking of our busy, busy lives, maybe I should fill you in on all the fun you missed while you were away. You know, the concert, the Spring Festival, the masque...."
Martin takes in all the stories with polite interest and little other reaction, although he's clearly annoyed that Cambina went off with Reid and Paige. He lets Folly fall asleep in his arms, and, unusually for him, is still there when she awakens.
Last modified: 21 September 2004