Disclaimer: You know how it goes. Mishran © Rathera. Corryn © me. This is a What If... type story that I wrote just because I felt like it. It's not really intended to have any sort of impact in any fic verse.

Scars

Mishran stretched slowly, taking care not to wake the creature next to him. Though he normally held himself aloof from all, Mishran had found in Corryn a confidant - someone he need have no secrets from. He didn't tell her everything, though. Some things couldn't be told.

Even in sleep, Corryn stayed close to Mishran, an arm draped possessively over his chest. Her head lay pillowed on his shoulder. It was all Mishran could do to keep from laughing. If Corryn rolled over one more time, she would be right on top of him.

Moving slowly, Mishran disentangled himself from Corryn and slipped on a black robe embroidered with brightly colored dragons. Much to his relief, Corryn never once stirred. She had only curled up in his place on the bed, green hair spread across the pillow in a fine mist.

Mishran stood at the head of the bed, admiring what he could see of Corryn's soft curves beneath the silk sheets. He had another reason for watching her as well. Underlying her teasing, playful manner, there was an instinctive wariness about Corryn. It was almost unnoticeable, yet at the same time always present, showing up in a forced laugh or a tightness around the eyes. However, Mishran found that when Corryn was asleep all her defenses were down. Sometimes Mishran wondered when Corryn had first erected these mental barriers, and why - what made her hide her true feelings behind a veneer of childishness? With a sigh, Mishran realized he'd probably never get an answer to that question.

Lost in some dream, Corryn's wing twitched, pushing the sheet back from her naked body. Mishran knelt to pull the sheet back over his lover and stopped, frowning. Instead of reaching for the sheet, Mishran's hands moved lightly across Corryn's back, pushing away the soft gray feathers. Running parallel to Corryn's wings, Mishran found a pair of thin white scars almost invisible against her tanned skin.

Mishran stumbled backwards, trembling with rage. When he got his hands on the fiend who did this... A nearly forgotten memory screamed to life in his brain of a centuries old incident, and a sickening certainty settled in the pit of Mishran's stomach. He realized that finding the "fiend" required only looking in the mirror.

Mishran cursed himself under his breath for not realizing sooner. A thousand questions reeled about in his mind like drunken sailors. Did Corryn know he was the one who'd scarred her? He couldn't very well ask. She might turn away from him. 'But,' he thought, eyes narrowing, 'what if she did already know?' Maybe the love she seemed to feel for him was nothing more than an act. Maybe she planned on turning on him, knowing that it would crush him all the more if he loved her. Maybe she got some twisted sadistic pleasure out of sleeping with the man who'd hurt her. Maybe... Maybe...

Mishran slumped against the wall, head in his hands. He tried to push away such dark thoughts, not wanting to believe them. Corryn had only been a child then - surely she'd have forgotten it all. Yet, Mishran couldn't help but wonder if there lay even a kernel of truth in his ominous broodings.

"Mishy?" Mishran's head snapped up at the ridiculous nickname Corryn insisted on calling him by - a name which from anyone else would have been considered impudence. She was sitting up on the bed watching him; her eyes huge and luminous... and trusting. 'Her eyes,' Mishran realized, 'are exactly as they were when she was a child.' "Mishy," Corryn repeated. "You're as white as a sheet. What's wrong?"

For a moment, Mishran toyed with the idea of taking Corryn in his arms, holding her close, and apologizing for everything. He could almost picture her tearfully accepting his apologies, but not quite. Mishran wasn't some sentimental romantic old fool. He'd been around for too long and seen to much of human nature to really believe that love could conquer all. Should he tell her, it might very well drive a wedge between them that could prove to be irreparable.

The mattress sank under Mishran's weight as he sat down on the bed. Corryn leaned close to Mishran, oblivious to her own nakedness and the effects it might have on him. He'd noticed that she did that sometimes. It wasn't that Corryn was flaunting her body, but more like being clothed or unclothed was all the same to her. Mishran had to decide how much to tell Corryn and fast. The complete truth would never do, but neither did he think he could lie to her. Taking a deep breath, Mishran decided on an answer which he hoped would satisfy his lover. "The scars on your back, I just noticed them."

The tension slowly left Mishran when Corryn began laughing. "Is that all it is, Mishy?" When Mishran nodded, Corryn impulsively wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. "It's sweet of you to be concerned, but the scars don't bother me and you shouldn't let them bother you."

Mishran held Corryn close. By Seth, he'd never been so afraid of losing anyone. Still, that nagging suspicion that Corryn knew what he'd done continued to gnaw at him. He had to know. "I won't worry," Mishran promised, although he was almost positive he'd never be able to keep his word. "I just can't help but wonder, how did you come by those scars?" Now Mishran saw Corryn wince. Despite what she might say, something about those scars still upset her.

Corryn's fingers gently probed Mishran's side, seeking the ticklish spot she knew was there. Mishran, however, anticipated her, and made a grab for the wandering hand. He squeezed the fingers, applying just enough pressure to get her to stop, but not enough to really hurt. "Spoilsport," Corryn teased. "Why would you want to concern yourself with something that happened centuries and centuries ago?"

Mishran sighed, relaxing his hold on Corryn's hand. She obviously wasn't going to make this easy. He realized his mistake too late as Corryn's fingers moved gently over his side, sending him into a fit of laughter. He made another, yet futile, grab for her hand. Finally, in a brilliant flash of insight, Mishran fell back on the bed carrying Corryn with him and rolled over so he was on top, pinning her hands to the mattress. Now that he could finally catch his breath, Mishran answered her earlier question. "I'm curious. Humor me."

Corryn stared off beyond Mishran, seeming to look right through him. "I got them by human hands, of course." Mishran started to press Corryn for more details, but that proved unnecessary. "I guess I should start by explaining what it was like where I grew up. That might make things a bit clearer." Corryn's eyes fairly sparkled with mischief. "Or maybe it won't," she added as an afterthought. Mishran almost let out an indignant "hmmph" but restrained himself, knowing it would only give Corryn the opportunity to compare him to Rath. Instead, he got up off of Corryn and sat back up on the bed, finding her too distracting when she was beneath him. Corryn also sat back up, but her expression was unreadable.

Corryn's fingers plucked absently at the silk sheets as she got her thoughts in order. "The town I was forced to call home was nothing more than a piddling little village steeped in tradition. The people there hadn't really had a new idea for probably a few hundred years." Suddenly Corryn started laughing. "Some might have gone so far as to give up on fire because they thought it was too modern."

The light mood drained out of Corryn as quickly as it had come. "As you can imagine," her tone became caustic. "I was an affront to their sensibilities. You can only be called 'half-breed monster' for so long before you actually start to believe it. The children were as bad as, if not worse than, the adults. I learned to put up with the taunting, but whenever anyone started throwing dirt, I took the only sensible course and ran. You never knew when rocks were going to follow, after all. That's what I was doing when the guy who scarred me came." Mishran's arms tightened around Corryn's lithe body, and only then did he realize he held her.

Mishran remembered that village, and knew that piddling was the kindest way to describe it. He also thought back on what had brought him there. Feeling stifled in the Council chambers, he had volunteered to inspect some small villages to determine whether or not they would be worth raiding for slaves.

Corryn's voice drew Mishran's attention back to her story. "I wasn't much of a fighter back then. I guess I'm still not though. Using magic was out of the question because I was just as likely to hurt myself. Flight was pretty much my only option, but the best I knew how to do then was glide a bit. There was this rocky overhang; not much but it suited my purposes well enough. I was being chased up there, and was going to glide someplace safe except I tripped. The stranger was just coming into town when he saw what was going on. He shouted and the kids all scattered." A strangled laugh forced it's way out of Corryn's throat. "Amazing how brave children can be until an adult comes around. I thought it was noble of the stranger to rescue me, but I was much more impressionable back then."

'Noble?' Mishran nearly choked on the thought. Not bloody likely. He just hadn't wanted to get caught as a witness in an investigation of the death of some village brat. He hadn't even known what Corryn was until he'd gotten closer. Even then he wasn't sure because she was so coated in mud and dirt. He'd nudged her with a sandaled foot to make sure she was still alive, and had nearly kicked her over the edge when she latched onto his leg. Unfortunately, Corryn still hadn't told Mishran what he wanted to know. "Who was this guy?" Mishran made himself ask.

Corryn's brow furrowed as she tried to dredge up a name, but at last she shook her head. "I don't remember," she sighed. "I guess it's been too long." Mishran knew that either meant she really had forgotten or she just wasn't going to tell him. He also knew which of those options he preferred most, but he had no way to tell which was the truth. As he stared into Corryn's open, honest face, Mishran wished he could read minds. He just found it all so hard to believe that Corryn could remember so many details yet couldn't remember who it was that had hurt her. But then, the mind could be that way sometimes, blocking out the most painful memories.

Corryn ran her fingers through Mishran's hair, mussing it all up and just maybe trying to distract him. She sought out his mouth, but found his lips as unyielding as stone. When Mishran didn't respond to her attentions, Corryn retreated to that childish pout which she often found useful for getting her way, but this time Mishran refused to be moved by it. "What happened next?" he asked.

"Can't we talk about something else?" A slightly whining petulant note crept into Corryn's voice. Mishran merely shook his head. He wanted (no, needed) to find out what she remembered. Realizing that Mishran wouldn't be dissuaded, Corryn continued yet again. "The guy started to leave, and I followed him, chattering all the way and even inviting him to stay with mom and me while he was in town. He accepted. I guess... I guess I needed to believe some humans could be trusted. By the Hawk, I was such a fool!" Mishran would have smiled at that archaic way of swearing by Horus, which seemed so out of place in these modern times, but what Corryn said about trusting humans nagged at him. What did she think he was, after all?

So intently was Corryn concentrating on the past that she didn't notice Mishran's troubled expression. Almost fondly, she smiled. "I'm afraid I didn't give him much peace. For a few days, everywhere he went, I followed like a little babbling shadow. I told him anything and everything that was on my mind. He showed a remarkable amount of patience." Corryn grew quiet again and Mishran waited, knowing she would speak when she was ready. The silence between the two lovers stretched out like a yawning chasm... first one minute, then another, and another...

Corryn's hands began kneading Mishran's thigh, but she seemed not to notice. He noticed though, and wondered, not for the first time, about the way Corryn almost seemed to need physical contact when he was around. She probably didn't realize it, in just the same manner that she didn't know about her automatic defensiveness. A shudder rocked Corryn, and without even thinking about it, Mishran tightened his embrace protectively around Corryn. She didn't react as she whispered almost too softly to be heard, "And then he lost that patience."

This time the shudder was Mishran's. Unlike Corryn, he knew why he'd done what he'd done. Unfortunately, the reason seemed silly back then, and made almost even less sense now. All those centuries ago, something about Corryn had frightened him. Even now he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was; maybe it had been just how much she trusted him. Whatever it was though, it was in the past; over and done with. Mishran decided not to let it interfere with the present.

Corryn's breath was hot on Mishran's neck as she tried to get even closer to him than she already was, impossible a feat as that seemed. For a moment, Mishran feared Corryn was going to start crying, but then he felt her lips press lightly to his ear. 'No,' Mishran decided as he was surrounded by a curtain of soft gray feathers, 'She doesn't know. If she did, she would fear me instead of love me.'

Now that Mishran was ready to make delicious love to Corryn, she turned the tables on him. "Why don't you go get us some breakfast, Mishy?" she suggested as she pressed up against his chest. With a final kiss, she slid out of Mishran's grasping hands, leaving him clutching at nothing more than air.

Mishran put on an expression of mock disappointment, wearing it almost like a suit of armor. "But I was all ready to feast on you!" The wisecrack shot out of his mouth before he even thought about it. Corryn's laughter fanned his smoldering desire, but Mishran was already putting on his pants. He knew he'd give in eventually, so he might as well go now and do what she wanted. Corryn had him wrapped around her little finger and she knew it. Sometimes she tested Mishran's limits to see how far she could push him, but they both knew that breakfast was well within the boundaries.

Mishran stepped out into the hall and shut the door behind him, feeling Corryn's eyes pressing against his back the whole time. Had he been able to spy on Corryn when she was alone like this, Mishran would have been stunned. Corryn lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, a sad smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I suppose the centuries have changed us both, Mishy," she murmured, her voice breaking the silence of the empty room.