Cards, Picnics, and Skeletons (1-3)

The days had been consuming Sanria, bleeding from one into the other with no end in  sight.  Since she had "welcomed" Thasmudyan into her home, she  chose to stay clear of it and keep Nioma with her at the castle. She knew Leandra wouldn't cause much trouble and so she buried  her nose in books, trying not to think about  Colin being gone, Orn wanting to fight, or the ex-lover  she was harboring from an entire government.  Still, regardless of how  hard she tried, the real  world was there with her,  peering over her shoulder as she read, whispering in her ears that things were closing in over her and suggesting that she would soon drown in it.

Enmach entered, cooing to Nioma, who was growing steadily.  Sanria felt a pang of jealousy.  When Enmach held the little girl, her bright blue eyes were rapt with attention.  "I wanted  to have her see  you today," Enmach said,  her eyes still  on Nioma.  "You've been busy quite a lot, lately."
"I know.  Unfortunately  it can't be helped."  Sanria  ran a hand through her hair.  "There's so much to do and-"
"There is so much waiting to do, you mean." Sanria let her hand drop to her thigh and gave a singular nod. "Correct."
"Perhaps you should go home, Sanria.  Relax."
"I can't... go home."
"Ah, Sir Thasmudyan."
"Right."
"And you can't  think of anything else to do than  try not to worry while you worry?" Enmach said with a knowing smile.
"That's not really fair, you know."

Sanria reached  out to take Nioma when a swirl of golden dust appeared on her hand.  It sparkled, then  briefly lit, and  when it faded, a card was between her fingers. On the front was the TriPower insignia, on the back, a summons, 'You are cordially invited At Midnight.' "What in the nine..."
"It appears to be a summons," Enmach smirked.
"But, from whom?  Who in TriPower could be sending me anything like this? Do you think they could know about him?"
"About..."
"Thasmudyan, what if  they know I'm keeping him and this whole Westbridge thing could be-"
"It's in druidic script."  Sanria looked at at Enmach as the woman gave a  small smile.  "You should go," she said.
"What do you know of this?"
"Nothing, I assure you.  But who do you know in TriPower that uses such a language?" Sanria stared at Enmach as the woman stared back, waiting. It finally hit her.  "Ror..." she whispered.
"I'll watch over Nioma and ensure she gets to bed on time-"
"But-"
"And you should seek out this elf and meet him."
"Enmach, I can't go, I have-"
"Nothing to do but wait. So please, for the health of yourself and my own sanity... go." 

It was  much later that  Sanria walked through the Haon'Dor, her hands on the trunks of trees.  The ancient  beings guided her with quiet whispers, telling her which paths to take to reach Ror. She could hear the humor in their voices as they guided her to the darkest, most remote, most ancient place in the forest to reveal a very tanned elven man lit by unknown light with a picnic basket at his side. 

No.  The  immediate  voice in the back of  Sanria's skull stepped up with  authority, throttling  the absolutely  shocked and guiltily smitten part,  sending it into a quiet submission. The immediate voice then reminded her, in no  uncertain terms, that this was a business trip, and that there was something Ror  wanted: Throm's information.  Calm  descended over  her as she moved into the tiny space between the trees.  "Sir Ror."
"Ah, milady, how good to see you again!"
"I received your card..."
"Indeed! I assume you had no trouble to find the way?"
"No.  The trees speak."
"I knew you'd understand."

Sanria's mind was reeling.  Why  would he bring her out at midnight, in a secluded part  of the  wood to ask  her about Throm, knowing she wouldn't tell him anything?  What  was his angle?  "I'm  certain you didn't ask me
here for a picnic, did you?"
"Well, a picnic all by yourself without friends is... very lonely you know...  And I  figured you might  want to get out of everything as well, and just  sit, chat, do nothing.  And eat of course."
"I... I've been very busy lately," she replied, quite unconvincingly.
"Apple?"

Slowly, Sanria  defrosted by degrees.  The sound of the river was not far off, and in the moonlight, could be seen reflecting between the trunks of the  ancient trees.  She brought up the things troubling her, letting the nature that surrounded her lift  her burdens as it always did.  She found herself  inquiring after his studies, recalling his involvement  with the Research Division.  "So... how is TriPower..." she asked carefully.
"Still there," Ror replied with a grin.
"So... there's nothing going on... that you're aware of that might not be  so... good?  Like... lifestream research on living subjects?"
"Go on, I am interested."
"So am I," she said in a whisper.  "I've merely heard rumors, is all."
She suddenly found him sitting at her side, whispering back, "You whisper  too much.  Which rumors?"

'People  didn't do this,' she  thought.  'No one invites someone out on a roman- a picnic at midnight and discusses business, do they?' She cleared her  throat and forced  herself to stare  out into the darkness.  "Simply  rumors that there  are people in  your governmental  organization that do  research on others for their personal gain.  Those with the capability to  control the lifestream."
"And...then you thought of me?"
"Given your line of work, yes." Sanria  turned to face him, steeling herself  against the face staring back at her.  "Not  implying  anything, of  course.  Just that you might know if the rumors are true."
"I feel kind of... flattered," Ror said, smiling.  "Thank you."

Of  course he  wouldn't know anything.  He wasn't at the higher levels of TriPower... he studied books in libraries. She felt foolish.  "I'm sorry. I believe I may have implied you knew more than you do."
"I told  you before  that there  are things I know nothing about. And you  might also recall I wanted to dig and research into a certain someone and  his research."

And  there it was.  Sanria  felt herself relax.  She had been wrong about  this picnic, and Enmach, too.  She felt  herself strengthen, she knew the reason would eventually come out, and it did. The basket of food - enough for two - was a ruse.  It was time to get down business.

Sanria  stood up and walked  toward the trees.  The moonlight sparkled on the river beyond, adding light to the darkness.  "I simply can't do that.  I'm sorry." She felt his hands on her shoulders and immediately stiffened.
"It's ok," he said.
"I am sorry. Truly." She turned to look up at him. "I know how frustrating it can be  to see something  you want right before you and not be able to get it.  And I have the knowledge, at least part of it, you seek."
"It is ok. I  did not invite you to discuss that, nor did I push for further information. But you  must understand that  if I am kept in the dark  about such difficult things, I can not give answers in the future either."
"Throm is the past, my past.  I'd prefer to keep him there."
"Well, Throm  is also  the Tripower's  past, which makes  it my  past and  present and  future. And unfinished things from the past always come back  sooner or later, whether you like it or not. I suspect - with so many problems in love and life - I do not..."
"You will simply  have to  discover your information some other way.  I'm  sorry." 

Sanria walked to her pack and prepared to leave.  She knew he couldn't be a friend to  her when all he wanted was to know Throm's information.  She knew where the lab was, knew what Throm had there, but still did not know everything, she was sure of it. One thing Throm had always left behind in a trail were secrets.  She knew that each time she met with Ror, the need to know would  be the reason, and each time would end in the same manner. She proposed they keep apart, a suggestion that was rejected by the elven man.  "But clearly I called you here to have a picnic," Ror said.
"Alright.  Then shall we finish our picnic?"
"I am  contemplating whether that is the right thing to do.  The question that I ask myself, if I am a friend to you, do I smile and play the game, avoiding that which  is pretty much impossible  to avoid...  Or do I hurt you, so you may heal in time?  Hurt now, or hurt later, that is the question..."
"If we can spare one another pain, then it would be best to be out with it."
"Fine, so be it. Who recruited Ror into the TriPower?" Ror asked, waiting quietly.  

Sanria's mind screamed. Lies. From the moment she met him, lies.  Ror had been hiding the facts.  For what? Snippets of conversations flew into her mind, conversations held in private from long ago. Even Throm's own people did not  trust him completely, and here was proof. Right before her face.
"Why would you pretend not to know of him?"
"I have my orders."
"I suppose you do.  I thank you for being up front with me now."
"I disobeyed part of my orders, if Throm ever finds out..."
"Throm is dead," Sanria hissed.  "Unless he wanted to get away from me so terribly that he faked the whole thing and had me take my own life in the process."
"You do not seem dead to me. So why would I lie?"
"They brought me back to life."  Why was she telling him this?  She heard him whisper from behind her, and she turned to face him. "If he is alive, you can take  your orders right to him and ask him for his research yourself.  I'll  not  set  foot near his home, near  his  research, near  his  family-" Sanria fought to keep her emotions in check, but fresh betrayal, old wounds, and heartache allowed the tears to seep into her eyes. It was then she  felt Ror's arms around her, shocking her out of her pain, sending her mind spinning again.  This was not right.  Not at all.  She pulled back enough to look up at the elven face.  "Please don't ask me."

"Lifestream  research," Ror began, "done by  people I am not aware of inside  the Tripower. I  need to learn about Throm. Because  I need to know  who can be trusted. If you want to stay out of it, give me a key and directions and I  figure everything  out for myself and I swear I will never  ask or tell again."
"Then stop looking for Throm.  Thasmudyan... was the subject."

Shame washed over Sanria as she walked away from Ror.  How easily she had given up Thasmudyan.  And why?  To take the heat off of her own self?  To get Thasmudyan  out of her cavern?  To help...  She felt Ror's arm around her.  He  was still asking  questions, though now about Thasmudyan, about his place in TriPower so many years  ago.  It incensed her.  Ror was from the very  same government  that had passed through its doors not only the elf, but Thasmudyan and Throm.  And Ror  could not have known it, the way he answered the questions, the quirks of his mannerisms, the way he would pointedly  let her bluster  out her anger and as cool  as you please continue his thoughts... he  was so much like  the man whose research he was chasing, like the man who had fallen into an abyss where Sanria could not follow.  She had  to get away and stay away.  "Picnic next thursday?" Ror asked, after everything she had  shouted  at him.  And the words were out before she knew they were coming: "Send me a card."