Rona's Story: The Truth Beneath the Rose

Chapter 22 A Parwen and Her Paradan

*Rumenya – friend

*Parwen – female lover

*Paradan – male lover

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Bishop stared down at the ring in his hand. He turned it over a few times and scoffed a little to himself. It wasn't anything spectacular. Just a beat-up old, silver ring. One thing about it struck him though which was that it looked oddly a lot like the ring his brother had carved for him ages ago with a howling wolf's head etched into it. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he grazed his index finger over it again, studying it closely.

"You'll sooner burn a hole in your palm than transform from staring at it for so long." Wyllin prodded the campfire with a long stick, turning over a smoldering log, making it reignite again. The fire illuminated their surroundings in the dark nicely; casting shadows back on every rock and stone in the vicinity of their campsite.

Bishop glanced up at his traveling companion from his spot on the ground. He fisted the ring in his palm and leaned back against a fallen log, throwing his elbows up on it. He looked her over for a moment before his eyes fell on the wolf beside her. Karnwyr, to his dismay, had chosen to curl up next to the little Bosmer instead of him that evening. She scratched him idly behind the ears while he slept soundly, snoring into his paws.

Bishop's golden eyes roved from his wolf back over to the Harbinger. He couldn't understand why Karnwyr was so taken with her. No... that was a lie. He knew exactly why.

Because she's a werewolf, he told himself.

"I know it bothers you, Rumenya," she said as if reading his mind, "Once you start wearing the ring and have your first turning his loyalties will fall to you again. No worries there."

He quirked a brow at her, then maneuvered the ring from his palm between his thumb and index finger and held it up. Squeezing one eye shut he peered through the hole of the ring at her and asked, "But it's addictive or something? That's what Hircine said, right? That I'll crave the power it gives me and my mind will turn into a beast's."

Her green eyes flicked up at him. He could see the flames dancing in them giving them an impish gleam. "You were moon-born before, were you not?"

"Yeah, I was."

"It will be the same then, but stronger - much stronger. Do you remember what it felt like?"

He propped his arm back up on the log again, spinning the ring between his fingers and said thoughtfully, "I remember smelling every fresh, steaming shit from a mile away."

Wyllin laughed and he grinned back at her as he continued, "I could sense the pulse of anything living, taste the steel in the air from the forge, hear every hushed, bullshit rumor spoken behind closed doors and gods! Could I smell her! One whiff inside our house and it was like going feral. I can't tell you how many times I had to sew the buttons back on the crotch of my trousers."

Wyllin snorted loudly at that and rolled her eyes. "So much like him," she murmured.

He smirked at her, "Like who?"

Her smile softened as she looked into the fire and said, "My paradan... my love. You remind me of him. A little too much if I'm to be honest."

"That so?"

"Very much so," she replied. "He was an absolute womanizer to start. Boasting, boorish, and far too cocky for his own good. But after traveling with him for a time, he started to grow on me. I saw something in him, something he tried very hard to keep hidden at all costs."