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Tranquil Waters: The Lead Crown Ch 2-4, Outside Influence

Vic was no stranger to 'family drama', as he'd been privy to more than his fair share during his childhood. His father, a traveling fox merchant full of wanderlust had some how chosen to make a relationship with Vic's raccoon mother, a wonderfully calm, centered, healer. Despite their constant disagreements, however, everything had always seemed to get back to good... but, in Vic's mind, he wondered how Cruffington Flew and his father could be so different and, at the same time, so much the same.

Vic had always cherished his family, but he hadn't realized just how much of his life they were until he lost them. It had been almost two years since he'd received the news that his mother and father had been killed; all he knew was that his mother had tried to help some injured missionaries and, in so doing, was labeled as a witch of some kind by the Tribals who were after them... nobody survived. During the months that followed he had entered a deep depression, and hadn't snapped out of it until he'd met Cruff.

The young fox-coon student sat by the campfire and contemplated the frustrations of dealing with the two "Churchies". Vic had fallen into a degree of admiration and adoration with Cruff before finding out that he was as much an initiate of the church as he was a student at the University, but, as time went by, that affiliation didn't seem to be as big of a problem as he'd expected. Having come to Newport alone it somehow ended up being comfortable to have Cruff as a part of his life. Vic never knew if their relationship would grow into something more, but it really hadn't ever been much of an issue.

Suddenly, it seemed, the fox-coon was starting to look at the larger picture. Ever since the two had helped Friar Arlowe escape the church's holding cell things were starting to become much more... real. Even though the two had been 'intimate friends' for some time, only recently was Vic starting to look at it in the form of a long term relationship and, if he had to be honest with himself, he didn't know how far it would go... or COULD go, for that matter... especially with the two raccoon dogs' filial issues.

It was all the macrocosm of family dynamics, he realized. No family was perfect, and all had their problems. Vic found it distasteful the way Friar Arlowe had continued to evade his son; the fox-coon despised the way Cruff danced around the issues and refused to settle the problem; it was deplorable the way the three royal heirs were unable to resolve their problems and instead pulled the entire kingdom into their sibling struggles. He almost began to wonder if he was better off with his good memories of his family rather than waiting for the next thing that would cause issues of his own. No, he realized... he would have traded anything to have his parents back... imperfections and all.

So where did that leave him and Cruff? Theirs was a relationship of convenience-- he was pretty sure they both knew that. They would be together as long as they each got something they wanted out of being a pair. In his case, Cruff meant that extra degree of consistency... a certain amount of stability, and someone he knew and someone he could let know him. Vic hoped that they'd still be friends when one or both decided to go their own way, but he also realized that there were issues in all relationships, not just family ones.

The fox-coon glanced over at Cruff, who had chosen to sit by himself after his recent discussion with the monk; Vic couldn't blame him, and decided to keep company with his own silence. It seemed strange to think he'd been doing that more and more lately.

* * * * * *

Cruff really wasn't sure what to expect from a talk with his father, but, whatever he'd been thinking would be discussed, what finally was revealed was NOT it. Almost everyone where he'd grown up had a strong belief in God and the Church from a young age; it was often said that the eastern side of town north of the Dock Divide might have been thousands of leagues from Mehnzil physically, spiritually it could easily have housed the Cathedral. Regardless, the young raccoon dog was suddenly privy to some information that caused him to question... well... more than just a few things.

Normally he would have sought out someone to discuss his thoughts, but that seemed unreasonable considering his limited choices. His father was a great cause of his concerns, thus the Monk was not an option; he could have approached Brother Rhys, but the last thing the rat priest needed was to hear about the raccoon dog's issues... especially as they related to a crisis of faith. He glanced across the camp to where Vic was seated, just in time to see the fox-coon look away; had Vic been staring at him?

In most circumstances Cruff would have gone to Vic first but, suddenly, at least insofar as his issues related to Friar Arlowe, it really didn't seem like a good idea. Vic had become a little more distant since they had left the church... and for good cause: he was putting his reputation, his future, and even his life on the line in order to help Cruff save his father. It was a lot more than the raccoon dog could have asked for, and was certainly more than he had expected. He and Vic had been friends for nearly two years, that much was true... but the help his fellow UPU student offered went far beyond--

Beyond what? Cruff let out a sigh, gazing at the little symbols he'd been doodling into the dirt with a long stick; the little scratched-in pictures made about as much sense as his thoughts. Vic was Cruff's friend... a friend with benefits. There were a few times when the raccoon dog had thought that the fox coon may have assumed it was something more, but, then again, it may easily have been his own inconsistent thoughts on the matter projected onto his--

Cruff again found himself unable to provide the right label for their relationship. Yes, they were friends... but usually friends didn't get as intimate as the two had been. Was theirs a relationship of convenience? Yes-- that much was true. Cruff was able to work with Vic in a professional capacity at the university, but they also made great partners on much less formal 'projects'. They fit well together... literally as well as figuratively. Yet Cruff realized it wouldn't work... it COULDN'T work... not in the long run.

In time, Cruffington planned to be a graduate of the University of Progressive Thought. If he also continued his hard work and dedication to the Church he would eventually become an ordained priest. They were two very worthwhile goals, and neither was a place for a scholar or a holy man with a male lover... let alone a spouse. While the University often overlooked private matters, they were not as accepting when it came to open physical love between those of the same sex... and to call the Church 'prudent' in such matters would be like saying that an ingot-forger's furnace was 'warm'.

No, he realized, there wasn't a long term place in his life for Vic as a lover, and he truly prayed that the fox-coon would be able to understand that when the time came. Until then, Cruff would be walking a tightrope between convenience and isolation; he hoped that he wouldn't end up falling... and taking Vic with him. He smiled into the darkness at the silliness of the thought-- he was sitting in the middle of a camp surrounded by men and women who had been labeled as outlaws and undesirables by the church, and he was worried what it would look like professionally if he had a male lover. "Cruff..." he addressed himself, "you REALLY have an issue with your priorities."

* * * * * *

Those who knew Brother Rhys best knew he kept himself busy with menial tasks whenever he needed to quiet his mind. It was no wonder then that the campsite was near spotless, and he was already working on splitting enough firewood to get them through the night and most of the next day... despite the fact that they planned to leave when the sun was barely up. Still, the physical labor did him good, and it allowed him to focus on his own thoughts.

Brother Rhys could see it in the eyes of his companions that they too were absorbed in their own musings. He resolved to hold his own council and digest what his mind was telling him... and it was saying plenty. As a member of the Church he'd had a strong love and respect for it for as long as he could remember. Although he didn't always find his interpretation of the ancient texts to coincide with the ones presented by the Church, he had an unshakable faith in God, and anticipated that his loyalty to the Holy House would stay with him for all his days.

"Then why isn't it?" he murmured to himself, halting in his collection of fire pit stones long enough to wipe at his brow with a pocket cloth. He still believed that the Church was inherently good and that the House of God was righteous and just... but his talks with Friar Arlowe and, indeed, his own experiences in the last few days made him question if it was possible that certain elements could compromise its pristine perfection. In fact, merely entertaining the alien thought seemed so unnatural to the rat that he was almost beginning to question his own sanity... almost.

What made it harder was the news from their newest group member, the large, very prominent gorilla, Sister Antoinette. Although Brother Rhys knew that any number of mistruths and misperceptions were possible in a mortal's words, she had seemed so certain of what she was saying, and her conviction was as keen as any Inquisitor's. Merely thinking about the Inquisition was enough to shock the rat back to his undesired questions; he had seen the affects of Inquisitor Ignus' interrogation of Friar Arlowe. Was THAT Just? Was THAT Pure? The rat wasn't sure he could answer those questions truthfully in a way he wanted.

Brother Rhys couldn't answer the questions at all, in fact. What he realized he COULD do was to continue gathering information... to broaden his understanding of what had transpired, and what was still happening. There was something he was missing... some piece of the puzzle that would allow him to resolve his crisis of faith. The Hymn of Arn declared clearly that God's way was unfallible, and that it was the imperfection in mortal eyes that made things unclear. If he continued to watch then the answers would come and he could resolve his own worries by better understanding what it was he was witnessing.

Finally setting his work aside for the night, Brother Rhys returned to where everyone else sat in camp. Although the party was scattered about amidst the firelight and the tents, a strange sense of camraderie began to fill the rat. The men and women with him were his Brothers and Sisters, both figuratively in their travel and literally in the eyes of God. They may not have understood why he came with them anymore than he could understand their own motives... but, when it came down to it, they all chose to help Friar Arlowe, and their sacrifice and hardships would eventually allow them all to see what God had in store for the righteous. Settling down amidst his scant pile of traveling robes, the rat was finally ready to sleep... conscience clear, senses receptive, and mind open.

* * * * * *

Sister Aurelie realized that little of what Sister Antoinette said made much sense to the rest of the group... but the cat understood far more than them, and the Sister realized that the profane treatment of the order had been squarely on Sister Aurelie's shoulders. The cat was not a maiden in the way the rest of the Sisters were... such imperfections had cost Aurelie's fellow sisters much, and it was not something that could be conveyed to anyone... well... almost anyone.

Aodhan sat down on the fallen log beside Sister Aurelie, the finger's of his paw entwining with the ones the cat's, "It was not your fault, Risaa."

"If not for me, the Church would never have--" the cat began, but the wolf spoke up.

"You cannot control the actions of others, Risaa." Aodhan stated flatly.

"If I'd only have--"

"You could not have done anything but what you did, Eyara." his words were spoken softly, but with enough conviction that he was nevertheless able to interrupt Sister Aurelie again with little difficulty. The tribal word was one that he'd used in private many times before when talking with the cat years ago, but it still made little sense to the Sister now.

"You never told me what that means."

Aodhan smiled in response to the comment, "What do you believe it means?"

The playfulness of the question managed to snap Sister Aurelie out of the dark, brooding thoughts that had colored the evening, "Why don't you tell me what it means?" the cat smirked, countering the wolf's question with one in turn.

"Because I do not think it needs to be explained." Aodhan's second paw found Aurelie's, and he drew the smaller cat closer.

"Maybe I want to hear what it--" but the Sister didn't have a chance to finish the comment as the wolf's muzzle pressed against the cat's, and, suddenly, Aurelie was purring, every last thought struck blank. It was a gentle kiss... a soft one, with barely a meeting of lips, but it had a profound affect on the cat. Sister Aurelie let out a shaky breath as Aodhan drew back, his eyes opening slowly to meet the cat's gaze with volumes of unspoken words, "....means." the single syllable warbled out of Sister Aurelie's throat.

"It means 'Cherished'." the dark furred wolf finally spoke, his tongue playing across his muzzle as if fighting for every last chance to taste any remaining hint of the cat on his lips. He smiled.

"Where..." Sister Aurelie's voice came out as a squeak, thus the cat paused, and started the question anew, "How did... did you learn to do that?"

"A kiss?" Aodhan inquired, one of his teeth peeking goofily out from beneath his lips as he grinned, "You don't LEARN how to kiss... you just... do it."

"But..." the cat leaned a little nearer, "You do it... so... well..."

Aodhan released one of Sister Aurelie's paws and gently caressed the side of the cat's face, running his fingers through long strands of hair, "I had the right kind of inspiration." he smiled anew. Aurelie's heart skipped a beat upon the realization that a repeat performance was imminent and the wolf drew the cat closer, cradling the back of the Sister's head in his palm... and the second show somehow managed to beat the first.