Azi smiled. Jashen was a wonder of strategy. He was in his element, for certain. Excitement coursed through her, and her grin widened.


"ou mean can I trust myself, Jashen? Honestly?" She thought it over. The only time since she had opened that tome that she didn't trust herself was when she had tried to fight against D'vena. But she knew now that that wasn't the way to go about it. She sipped the remains of her mug, swallowing the pungent bits of leaves and spices that had settled.


"es. I know how to deal with her now. I don't know what you have in mind, but I will tell you I shall need a good amount of rest before I try anything too complicated."

Jashen let a sly, wicked grin creep across his face. "ou get the rest before we work, some others will need it after!" He almost laughed aloud. "We could set her on ear with this work!"


Finally, he did whoop, slapping palm against thigh with a long, sharp report. "Azi, you're a treasure! An absolute treasure!" He leapt up and grabbed her off her stool, twirling her in the air once. "But, you have to help me, uh, set the mood," he continued as a wicked grin spread over his face.

 

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Azi stiffened with suprise as Jashed embraced her, then let her body relax. She, too, laughed loudly as he set her down. A blush rose over her face as she squezzed him around the middle, and she giggled uncontrollably. It felt so good to laugh, it seemed like ages since she had allowed herself to.


"Hmm..set the mood? Do tell." Her pulse quickened with excitement as she waited for him to reveal his plan.

Jashen’s grinned turned a little more wicked. “Well, what I am about to propose the Church would not consider proper.” He sat down, motioning for Azi to do the same. “However, from what I overheard one afternoon in Ludlow a few weeks ago, it seems big brother and his friend need little encouragement to, ah, indulge themselves?” He fought down a slight blush at the memory of what he had overheard while guarding the upper hallway that day. “But if we can set the mood, and maybe cause a little agitation before hand, I am sure D’Vena would pay her attention to it!”


He fidgeted with his tankard a moment. “Now, don’t read this wrong. I know Cris is under a curse, but if this can give us,” he paused, sipping at the ale, “an edge over her, then I think we have to exploit it.” He knew that this was playing with hearts and emotions, but on the other side of all these events, Crispian would hopefully be free of it all, and could truly chose his own path, be it what it may.


“And it’s not like either of them would be hurt by some, ah, physical distractions, right?” He let the conclusion lay flat as he topped up his tankard.

 

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Rolling clouds darkened the skies over Camelot as Crispian made his way from the Guild Hall toward the Forge Square. He walked with confidence this day. A dull pain throbbed in his mind, held at bay by a spheroid pendent and a cup of mulled wine. It seemed D’Vena was on the offensive. He wondered if she would take to her old tactics of letters to discredit people and skillfully placed rumors. He was paying out nearly a gold a day to feed the rumor mill of Camelot with tales of good doing by the League, himself, and even Arcalan. Jashen had given him good council on that topic.


He missed his younger brother, not to be considered little anymore. Jashen had grown some teeth these past months, he realized. No more was he just the shadow of Crispian. He had become a note worthy in his own rite, and now was starting a second career in the field. Crispian had to give him a measure of respect for that. It took a lot of guts to walk away from twenty hires as a Mercenary and start all over, and in a harder field of mastery. He was a bit awed by that. Maybe it was time to confess that to Jashen. Their boyhood quarrels now had to grow into a manhood relationship, no matter what the outcome of these problems were.


Drawing out his tools, he turned the sign over. ‘Crispian, crafter of weapons, some Mithril items made,’ it said in careful hand-painted letters. The Master had asked him to make a bill for a citizen, a task he did not have the time to do himself. Crispian careful set some mithril bars to heat so that he could craft the head and then took stock of his runewood. Back to crafting, after so long at being gone. He found a quiet joy in the turning of raw metal into fine weapons. It also afforded him time to think.


How would he counter D’Vena’s push this time? He was uncertain. The ring of his hammer on the metal set cadence of this thought. Each ting of hammer on mithril seemed to say ‘Fight,” until the pattern was set. Fight, fight, fight, D’Vena. Striking the anvil was the root point. He would have to oppose her, he knew. He also had to face the very real possibility that opposing her could be his end.

 

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Azi sat stunned at Jashen's proposal. She thought of Tobyas, how he had tricked her into the chamber of the church, into an obvious spell. Certainly she was hurt by his deception, but she he intended only good to come of it. She thought of the day they had first met on the riverbanks outside of Camelot, how distraught he had been. She thought of the night in the church, how much he had cared for Crispian.


Jashen was wrong. Indeed this plan wouldn't come to a good end. Tobyas was finally coming to his own, embracing his faith and realizing his purpose in the church. She remembered his solemnity and blessing in the abbey, the holiness that radiated from him.


She thought of Crispian, a victim of feelings he couldn't control. Remembered him fighting with the emotions that had tied him to Tobyas. Remembered the rumors, and how they ate at the two men, how they threatened the League's reputation. And what would happen after D'vena's defeat? Did he think it would be easily forgotten? Suddenly, she was angry with Jashen. How could he think this a good plan?


"No, Jashen. Think of another way." She said simply.

Jashen's face fell and he sighed heavily. He could barely look at Azi. "The only other I can think of would be to provoke a fight with Cris." He swilled his ale about, looking down on the brown frothy surface. "A fight like only his brother could goad him into." With a somber look, he gazed up at Azi. "The kind of fight I know I can bring him to, and win," he said bleakly.


His heart was torn at the choices, and he honestly preferred the first. "But I can do it. You, however," he said looking her squarely on, "have to be ready to get things moving if I do." He lifted his tankard and drained it in one drink. "But I'd rather toy with his affections, truth be known. He and Toby are grown men, with choices to make." He sighed as he looked down. "I hate that witch!"

 

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A sigh escaped her lips, she felt unshed tears burn her eyes as she rested a hand on Jashen's.


"Jashen. Do you remember how all of this came about?" She asked, knowing that Jashen would recognize her reference to Crispian using D'vena all that time ago. "If Crispian or Tobyas ever found out you'd toyed with thier hearts in such a way, they could never forgive you." She sighed heavily. "Matters of the heart, however they come about, should never be played with or taken lightly."


She looked at him, knowing the pain he felt at his second proposal. Could she ask him to sacrifice his relationship with his brother? His twin? She shook her head, barely able to whisper.


"What sort of fight, Jashen?"

Jashen blinked rapidly to squelch tears, his golden lashes dappling with them. His mouth turned down in a near grimace and his fingers toyed with his tankard uneasily. "The type of fight you can have with someone who has been part of your life everyday for twenty plus years. All the old slights, offenses and mistakes." He looked up to the ceiling of the hall. "I wonder how Mirashta put up with us, and how we survived each other."


His gaze slowly moved downward to meet Azi's. "The kind of fight that twists words and meanings, that rips at everything." He swallowed so hard she could hear him even as his throat worked. "And I know damn well the buttons to push, because he reacts as I would," he paused, looking away from her again, "and as I do."

 

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Azi let a tear slip down her cheek unchecked as she slid close to Jashen. She slipped her arm through his and squeezed his hand with her other hand.


"Damn it all." She cursed. "Jash, I hate to say it, but I see no other way. To have them do...what you suggested before, would cause too many problems. For each of them, and for the League..." She let her voice trail off, her mind raced. She shook her head


"I'll be ready for wahtever you propose, but it's the only way."