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arfic-l-digest        Thursday, April 26 2001        Volume 01 : Number 029




----------------------------------------------------------------------

Date: Tue, 24 Apr 2001 18:07:15 -0400
From: "Michele R Bumbarger" <[e-mail]>
Subject: (arfic-l) Worlds Away (Part 31/36)

Title: Worlds Away (Part 31)

Author: M. Bumbarger

Email: [e-mail]

Fandom: New Series Tomorrow People

Rating: PG-13/TV-14

Summary: The Tomorrow People are swept away to a different world,
where they must take up the lives of their alter-egos and try to find
their way home . . . which won't be easy.

Disclaimer: The Tomorrow People (Adam Newman, Ami Jackson, Megabyte
Damon, and Jade Weston) are the property of Roger Damon Price, Thames
Television, ITV, Tetra Television and Nickelodeon. They are used here
without permission, but not for profit. The lands, countries, customs,
deities, and original characters are mine and mine only, springing
from the depths of my imagination and should not be used anywhere else
without my permission. Please do not repost this to any list or
archive it anywhere else without my express permission.

Previous parts at
http://www.alternate-realities.net/worldsaway

**********


Chapter Thirty-One


The days preceding the wedding ran past in a blur. Ami soon discovered
that she hardly had enough time to breathe, nonetheless being able to
find the time to worry and fret about anything that would transpire
after the true vows were exchanged. Marriage, even those not between
blue bloods and royals, was considered a very important and sacred
contract in both Albarasquan culture and in the eyes of the Temple of
Damiaren. There were meditations and purifications, prayers and
rituals that each had to be performed during the days before the final
exchange of vows.

All of her study of Amideira's diaries and notes had not prepared Ami
for the ceremony that she suddenly found herself submerged in. She
didn't even know that there were ten levels of meditation, each one
taking the meditator to a higher level of purification. She quickly
learned what herbs had to be burned during which purifications and
which incense did not offend Damiaren during which prayers. And every
night, she retired to bed, actually glad that she was one day closer
to the wedding.

Ami saw very little of Jade during this time, but didn't have adequate
enough free time on her hands to truly miss the time spent with her
friend. Nor did she have the time, energy, or privacy enough to talk
to Adam and Megabyte telepathically; the upside of it all was that she
also did not have the time to be annoyed and harassed by Calend'et or
to be made to feel less than human by her mother. As far as trade-offs
went, Ami thought that this one was not so bad.

If she thought that she had been pampered and coddled before, she
received a rude awakening in the form of the realization that the
attention that had been paid to her before was nothing compared to the
attention that was heaped on in preparation for what was quickly
becoming the wedding of state.  The day of the wedding itself, found
Ami pulled from bed at before the sun even crested the horizon.
Sephrine stumbled over herself in her efforts to explain that today,
of all days, the Damiar Princess could not sleep in.

Ami's grumbling that staying in bed until the sun was actually in the
sky did not count as sleeping in, fell on deaf ears.

The first ritual of the wedding day itself involved a scented bath for
the princess. A scented bath in water that had been warmed at an even
earlier hour than when Ami was dragged from her bedchamber and was
only mildly warm by the time she settled into it. Nynie pushed off her
complaints, stating that the bath was to invigorate her, not to lull
her into sleep.

As if she could have slept on the day of her wedding anyway.

Her wedding day. The reality of it hit her as she attempted to eat
breakfast. One moment, she was happily chewing and swallowing on warm
bread and fruit, and the next moment Ami discovered that she could not
eat another bite. A few words from Sephrine had reminded her of the
importance of the day, a few words from the other woman, and a large
nest of butterflies took up residence where Ami's stomach should have
been.

"Oh, do stop fretting child," Damiar Roleran patted her hand in an
attempt to comfort her, "In a few hours it will all be over and you
will be Stiborn's new princess and wife of the High Prince Adam
Aldaric."

Also known as Adam Newman.

Ami gave up trying to finish her breakfast despite urgings from her
grandmother, Nynie and Sephrine.

Breakfast was followed by the most time-consuming ritual of all -
preparing Damiar Princess Amideira Imak'tiq for the wedding ceremony.
It wasn't simply a matter of putting her into a creamy white gown of
damask and silk, embroidered in an array of holy symbols and the royal
crest of Imak'tiq. No, the final preparations involved weaving colored
ribbons in her hair while Nynie and Sephrine painted elaborate sigils
and motifs on her hands and in feet in what had to be this world's
equivalent of henna. These sigils and motifs were supposed to bring
happiness, prosperity and fertility to a marriage.

The final step was crowning Ami with her mark of state, before
covering her in layers of veils. The fire diamond, called such because
of the sparkle that seemed to flicker and glow in the very center of
the jewel, suspended from a delicate silver chain, was placed upon her
head. Once in place, the jewel rested against her forehead, glittering
in the early morning light. Catching a brief glimpse of herself in the
mirror, Ami was startled to see that she truly did look like a
princess.

No, not a princess. The Princess. The Damiar Princess of Albarasque
and bride to the High Prince of Stiborn.

As the final layers of the veil fell into place, obscuring her
worldview into a white, gauzy haze, and she filed out of her
bedchamber, acolytes and attendants surrounding her, Ami took a deep,
calming breath. For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer,
there was no turning back.

***

The twisting, turning fluttering in his stomach had a name. Adam
realized that as he stood in his bedchamber being attended from all
sides by stewards and servants. The racing of his heart and the
sweating of his palms told him what the name of that fluttering was.
The way he was detached and distracted, hopelessly lost when it came
to any attempt to follow the conversation going around him.

The name for it was nervousness.

Adam Newman was nervous. Not the High Prince Adam Aldaric, because he
wasn't really here, but Adam Newman was nervous. He was getting
married today, and as much as he tried to remind himself that this
wasn't his world, that these were just roles they played, the lines
began to blur and he found it hard to truly believe those words. After
all, he was here and Ami was here, and it was not their alter-egos
that would be standing before the priest of Shira today, but them.

Adam Newman and Ami Jackson.

He called for another drink, tried to ignore the way his voice
croaked, and quickly turned it down his throat.

It didn't get rid of the nervousness, but it was something to do.

"Are you nervous yet, cousin?"

Adam handed the empty cup back to the steward, turning to glare at
Hagen. The other man lounged lazily on the couch, a mug in one hand
and a bit of fruit in the other, present during the final preparations
despite Stewart and Master Ilarms' objections that the young lord
would be a distraction.

"If I satisfy your dying need to be absolutely correct in this, and
say yes, will you stop driving me mad, Hagen?"

Hagen shrugged, "That would depend. Do you intend to say yes and allow
me a few moments to gloat and say 'I told you' so?"

"I'm . . . a little nervous."

"Aha!" Hagen jumped to his feet, his loud exclamation making Adam's
heart skip and causing several servants to jump, and a few to yelp.
Hagen laughed and waved wildly at Adam, unaware or uncaring of the
effect his outburst had on anyone else present, "I knew it! I've been
wondering when you would finally admit to having cold feet."

[He's got a point, ya know.  You do like to play things close to the
vest, buddy.]

Adam groaned.  The last thing he needed was for Megabyte to throw his
two cents in.  It was bad enough that he had to take all this razzing
from Hagen but Megabyte too...

[Hey, just doing my job as your groomsman.]  The mental snicker
attached to those words made Adam sorely tempted for one moment to
teleport... If only for the pleasure of wringing Megabyte's neck.

[What's wrong, Megabyte, don't you have enough to worry about juggling
Jade and Sarena around each other to be worried about me?] Adam
snapped.

Silence filled the connection, hurt fringing around the edges.  [Low
blow, Adam.] Megabyte replied quietly.

Adam rubbed his eyes.  [Yeah, you're right.  I'm being an ass.  I'm
sorry.  It's just...]

[You're nervous?]

[Not nervous precisely but...]

[Nervous.]  Megabyte repeated

[Yeah, okay, I'm nervous.  I don't see why everyone thinks that is so
odd --]

[Adam.] He could almost see Megabyte fixing him with a wry grin and a
tilt of the head. [We'd all think it were odd if you weren't nervous.]

[I don't know what it is,] Adam looked around the room, glad that this
was one time that he could engage in a lengthy telepathic conversation
without anyone becoming suspicious. Prolonged silences on the day of
his wedding would be nothing out of the ordinary. [I just figured that
I would do this once in my life, and this was not how I planned on
doing it. I feel like . I feel like this is a shotgun wedding.]

[Not to bust your bubble, buddy, but this is kind of a shot-gun
wedding,] he received a visual image of Megabyte shrugging and smiling
sheepishly, [Not exactly what you wanted to hear was it?]

[Not exactly.]

[Well, if it's any comfort, it's not all that bad.]

[Getting married?]

Megabyte sent him a mental shrug, [Being married.]

Adam felt his eyes widen at that revelation. [All right, who are you
and where is Megabyte?]

[Don't get the wrong idea, it's not what you think but . I'm
surviving. And if I can handle this, I know you can.]

[Thank you, Megabyte.] Adam felt a surge of pride at his friend's
unusual demonstration of insightfulness and empathy.

[For what?]

[For putting things into perspective.]

[Whatever,] Megabyte snorted, [Just don't tell the squirt I said
anything. I have a reputation to keep up.]

*** End of Chapter Thirty-One





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------------------------------

Date: Tue, 24 Apr 2001 23:24:53 EDT
From: [e-mail]
Subject: Re: (arfic-l) A question...

I watch it. Occasionally. If you post it I will read it.

Angel

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------------------------------

Date: Wed, 25 Apr 2001 15:03:57 -0400
From: Mandi Ohlin <[e-mail]>
Subject: (arfic-l) "Sleep to Dream Her" 1/1 (not to be confused with Ailie's fic!)

Title: Sleep to Dream Her
Author: Mandi Ohlin
E-mail: [e-mail]
Archive: http://weirdweb.net/fanfic/
Rating: PG. Barely.
Part: 1/1
Category: Drama (Missing Scene if it doesn't kill continuity later)
Distribution: Please ask.
TV Show/Fandom: Power Rangers Time Force
Summary: Alex's thoughts after first sending the Time Shadow back.
Spoilers: Occurs shortly after "The Time Shadow."

Disclaimer: Power Rangers Time Force and all related indicia are
property of Saban Inc. No permission, no profit, no lawyers. The title
is taken from the Dave Matthews Band song. Tyrran is mine, but she's
just here for plot reasons.

Notes: Yes, I know I've got multiple unfinished fics that people have
been shrieking at me about. And yes, I know Ailie's fic had the same
title - I went nuts trying to think up a title for this, but "Sleep to
Dream Her" would not leave me alone. I did try to think up a different
title to avoid confusion, but couldn't manage to. It's not a songfic,
though.

And for the few people who have watched PRTF: this is canon. That was
Alex in the lab coat at the end of "The Time Shadow." The ending credits
gave it away. (Unless Jason Faunt is now playing THREE different
characters in this series, which I doubt.) This idea popped into my head
one night, wouldn't leave me alone, and came out in a one-sitting write.
Be warned, it's not beta-read, and the technobabble is probably way off.
I'm blowing off steam.

Feedback: Hell, yes!

*****

Sleep to Dream Her
by Mandi Ohlin


"Alex. I thought I'd find you here."

I don't need to turn around to know who's speaking. Commander Tyrran
excels at entering undetected - especially when she wants to rattle
Captain Logan - and I've become used to it by now. Besides, she's the
only Special Ops officer who'd make an informal call. "I'm always here
lately, you know that."

She doesn't answer. I'm in trouble, so I pretend to be engrossed in
monitoring the final readings. The Time Shadow's performed far above our
original expectations. When we first launched it, I hadn't finished all
the diagnostics and tests. So I wasn't thrilled when I was ordered to
send the Time Shadow back. I was afraid that something would go wrong,
that I'd fail Jennifer once again.

I've never been so happy to be wrong in my entire life.

Behind me, the Commander coughs. She's waiting, and she hasn't demanded
any attention to protocol whatsoever. This is a personal visit. Allia
Tyrran was one of the top instructors at the Time Force Academy when
Jennifer and I went there, and off duty she tends to mother-hen her
former students. Of course, her idea of "mother-henning" sometimes
involves having her charges forcibly dragged to the infirmary.

I'm definitely in trouble.

"Is there a specific reason for this visit?" I keep my back to her;
turning around abruptly might give some things away.

"Simple curiosity," Tyrran answers coolly. "Your presence here is rather
odd."

"Why?"

"Because you're supposed to be in regenerative stasis."

I nearly drop the small datapad I'm holding. She knows. Damn, damn,
damn.

Slowly, so I don't stumble and give myself away, I turn around. She's
standing there with an image cube in one hand. It's displaying a
holographic cycle of documents - a medical report. "What is that?" I
ask, playing dumb.

"Your latest medical report. I had to slash through red tape galore to
get it."

"That's an exaggeration. I'm fine."

She shuts the cube off and pockets it. "The records in the database
indicated that you were healthy enough to be discharged. Care to explain
that?"

I grit my teeth. I didn't necessarily go through and alter the details
of my medical reports - that would have been too obvious - but the
database often flags records that indicate serious injuries or
conditions. So I managed to get in and remove the flag in hopes that the
report would go unnoticed. In the wake of Ransik's escape, Time Force
has been working around the clock to try to preserve the timeline and
assist the Rangers in any way possible, so the error might have been
missed. Until now.

"I couldn't just sit by and do nothing. I was working on this project
long before Ransik was captured--"

"And you're one of the few people with the expertise to get it finished
and running," Tyrran finishes. "Yes, I know."

She strides across the room to stand before me. "And I have to
congratulate you on the results. The Time Shadow has performed
perfectly."

"But?" I know what's coming.

"But risking your health is counterproductive."

I don't say anything, don't look away. I'm not going to be put in stasis
so I can lie there like a piece of equipment, as useless as one of the
cryo-frozen criminals we capture daily. I know it's not the same. It's a
regenerative sleep, not a deep freeze. But I'm not a prisoner, and I
won't be treated that way.

Tyrran sighs. "Jen wouldn't want you to do this to yourself."

Now she brings out the heavy artillery. "But she doesn't know, does
she?"

She shakes her head. "I've spoken to Logan. Without revealing what
Special Ops is doing - and he doesn't have the clearance - I could not
convince him that the conditions were such that he could reveal personal
details. Especially since we have detected that there has been some
alterations to the time stream."

I nod. I've heard this before.

"Here's the deal. You go into stasis for 24 hours--"

"I can't do that."

"It's that, or I throw you in there for the full three days' worth."

She means it. And I can barely stand up right now. Trip could haul me
off without any trouble. "Just give me a few minutes. I need to finish
up here."

Tyrran nods. "Ten minutes. No more, no less." She actually softens for a
moment. "If not for yourself, do it for Jen. If she knew what you were
putting yourself through, she'd be dragging you herself." She strides
out, not waiting for a yes or no. It's an ultimatum; she doesn't need
to.

I turn back to the console. The final diagnostic is complete. I'm done
for the night. I'd like to stay and run through the Time Shadow's visual
records, try to get an idea of what they're up against. But that
option's not available to me now. I discard the lab coat and shades in
the storage closet before trudging to the lavatory to wash up.

It takes me a moment to recognize my reflection in the mirror. I look
like one of those zombies from the old Earth horror films that Lucas
watches. But for someone who's just barely escaped death, I should feel
pretty lucky.

I sit back down at the console, staring blankly at the displays. There's
a deactivated holo sitting on a nearby counter, and I switch it on. It's
the one of Jennifer and me the last time we were off duty together.
She's smiling, relaxed, happy. She's not barking out orders, trying to
perfect herself and her teammates, trying to get the job done no matter
what. That's Jen: the relentless, driven Time Force officer who will
protect others at any cost. It's one syllable, short and to the point,
the persona that most people know.

But when we could get away from work - when we could just be together -
she was Jennifer with me. Willing to take her time, to relax, to allow
herself to be happy. I always got strange looks from other people when I
insisted on calling her "Jennifer," but they didn't understand. They
knew Jen.

I'm not sure who will be coming home, though.

Time Force has the capability of measuring the amount of alterations
done to the timestream. The Valerian Crystals mined on Eltar provide the
means to do that. The mineral exists outside of time; it was used in
constructing the morphers. The Crystal can monitor the timestream and
indicate the amount of change - but it cannot tell us WHAT, exactly, has
changed. And there has been some minimal damage to the timeline. It's
nowhere near the amount of damage Ransik could have caused had he been
allowed to run amuck. But it's enough to make me worry.

The morphers, to an extent, exist outside of time as well; they insulate
their holders from any changes in the timestream to lessen the
possibility of paradox. So for Jennifer, Trip, Katie, and Lucas, the
future is the same as it was when they left - their memories are intact.
But the future they return to may not be quite the same. I'm not
insulated, so the future I know may be totally wrong.

~Jen wouldn't want you to do this to yourself.~

Would she?

I love Jennifer, who could spend hours with me doing absolutely nothing
and yet make those hours the best of my day. I love Jen, who would never
back down if she was fighting for something she believed in. But the
woman who comes back may never have been in love with me. She may not
even care about me.

The ten minutes are almost up. I shut off the holo and place it in
storage before heading down the corridor, to the infirmary where Tyrran
is waiting with the stasis chamber ready. "24 hours, right?" I ask,
looking her right in the eye. I refuse to be out of commission for any
longer.

"24 hours. You have my word."

I lie down in the chamber, closing my eyes. Memories of Jennifer parade
behind my closed eyelids. She may still love me, but that might be
worse. I wish I could find her, tell her that I'm all right, that she
has no reason to torture herself. Jennifer might not do that, but Jen,
alone, might.

Ransik may not have managed to take my life, but he's taken something
even more important. I'm already slipping out of consciousness, and I
let myself fall away. I have to see this through. I won't fail this
time. I'll survive to see the woman I love come back safely.

Until then, I'll dream of Jennifer, and Jen, and maybe one day it won't
be a dream anymore.

******

The End

- --
Mandi Ohlin (Mandolin)
member of the SisterHood of Evil
fanfic fanatic and nitpicker extraordinaire

Devon: "What does a girl have to do to impress you?"
Oz: "Well, it involves a feather boa and the theme to
    'A Summer Place.' I can't discuss it here."
                   --BtVS: "Halloween"

http://weirdweb.net

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------------------------------

Date: Wed, 25 Apr 2001 16:31:18 -0400 (EDT)
From: Ailie McFarland <[e-mail]>
Subject: RE: (arfic-l) "Sleep to Dream Her" 1/1 (not to be confused with Ailie's fic!)

You're right, that was the perfect title. And although I don't watch the show, I still enjoyed reading your story!

Ailie



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------------------------------

Date: Thu, 26 Apr 2001 06:37:04 -0700 (PDT)
From: Worlds Away <[e-mail]>
Subject: (arfic-l) Worlds Away (Part 33/36)

Title: Worlds Away (Part 33)

Author: M. Bumbarger

Email: [e-mail]

Fandom: New Series Tomorrow People

Rating: PG-13/TV-14

Summary: The Tomorrow People are swept away to a
different world, where they must take up the lives of
their alter-egos and try to find their way home . . .
which won't be easy.

Disclaimer: The Tomorrow People (Adam Newman, Ami
Jackson, MegabyteDamon, and Jade Weston) are the
property of Roger Damon Price, Thames/Television, ITV,
Tetra Television and Nickelodeon. They are used here
without permission, but not for profit. The lands,
countries, customs, deities, and original characters
are mine and mine only, springing from the depths of
my imagination and should not be used anywhere else
without my permission. Please do not repost this to
any list or archive it anywhere else without my
express permission.

Previous parts at
http://www.alternate-realities.net/worldsaway
**********

Chapter Thirty-Three

Worlds Away
By Michele Mason Bumbarger

Chapter Thirty-Three

Adam stood in the doorway leading onto the balcony and
watched Ami. Unable to remain part of the celebration
and festivities of the wedding feast all night, as
much as they may have wanted to, they had been sent
off, with flower petals and well wishes, to the
privacy of their apartment. Not his bedchamber,
because as of now, tonight, it was no longer his. As
of tonight, he was to share the newly decorated and
newly commissioned royal apartment with his wife. His
wife, who stood on the balcony, quiet and still, a
startling contrast to her earlier mirth and
liveliness.

Ami had wandered out onto the balcony shortly after
they came up to their apartment, and she had not
ventured back indoors since then. Noting the candle
marks again, Adam realized that she had actually been
out there for over half an hour. Over half an hour,
saying and doing nothing. And most importantly,
avoiding having any contact with him.

No, that wasn't very fair and Adam knew it. Ami was
not avoiding him; she was avoiding the situation with
him, which came down very nearly to the same thing.
Not that Adam cold blame her for that; he was no more
comfortable with the situation than she was. As many
times as he had thought about this night, had sent it
spinning round and round in his head, Adam knew that
there was truly no way for he and Ami to get out of
this painfully awkward situation. This was no simple
peasant marriage; this marriage was not only between
the heirs of two powerful kingdoms, but the marriage
was between the two kingdoms as well. And it would be
consummated; if it was not, it would be seen as a
terrible slight and the gods only knew what would
happen then.

Downstairs, surrounded by revelers and merry-makers,
it had been easy for both of them to put this moment
out of their minds. Upstairs, alone, without any music
or friends or anything else to distract them, it
weighed heavily upon them. Enough so that, Ami had all
but teleported away when he accidentally touched her
hand; enough so that she fled onto the balcony the
moment the heavy oak door to the room closed behind
them.

So, he sat in the bridal chamber and stoked the fire,
giving Ami the time and the space that she needed so
desperately. He'd give her the next decade of time and
space if he could, but unfortunately it was out of his
hands. Barring another portal opening up and
depositing them all right back on the beach where they
started from, there was no way around this.

He was Prince Adam Aldaric of Stiborn and she was the
Damiar Princess Amideira. And this was their wedding
night.

Half an hour later, with the outside temperature
dropping and a slightly cool wind blowing into the
wind, Adam decided that allowing her space to adjust
did not include permitting her to stand outside in her
wedding gown until she caught pneumonia. It was still
early spring, and the weather here was more brisk than
that of England. He would at least coax her back
inside, and then . . .

Well, he would coax her back inside.

She didn't even hear him step onto the balcony, or if
she did, she gave no indication of such. Ami continued
to lean forward, apparently not chilled by the brisk
night wind in her layers of silk and velvet.

Adam chose his words carefully, trying to keep the
situation light. "Oh this is nice. Married less than a
day and you already want to throw yourself off the
balcony?"

Ami rewarded him with a soft smile that told him that
he had said the right thing. "No, not quite yet. I'm
just enjoying the night air. I'd actually forgotten
how nice it is to have some real breathing space. And
some elbow room. I feel like I've spent the past three
days in a sardine can.

"Do you know this is the first time in days that I've
been able to turn around without finding out that
Nynie is looking over my shoulder?"

Adam laughed softly, able to identify with her words.
It had been hard for him to get any breathing space as
well as the day of the wedding drew nearer. If he was
not being attended to by one butler, then it was
another. Not to mention the endless drills and
schooling from Master Ilarms to be certain that the
prince did not embarrass himself or the kingdom on the
day of the wedding. More than once in the past week he
had actually found himself appreciating Hagen's crude
humor and dry wit.

Ami didn't even have that respite. All of her
attendants came from the ranks of priestesses and
acolytes, who spent the majority of their lives behind
cloister walls and had little use for foreigners ù
particularly the foreign men of Stiborn. She'd even
been denied Jade's company these past few days ù Adam
had heard Jade lament about it often enough ù left
with only Nynie who took her duty as an honor maid
quite seriously.

"Well," Adam folded his arms across his chest and
leaned against the balcony wall, "For some peculiar
reason social etiquette bans ladies-in-waiting from
the bridal chamber on the wedding night."

If his first words had been the right words, his
latter words were wrong in every sense. Ami's face
fell immediately and she turned away from him, the
color draining from her yet again.

"Right," she whispered softly into the night.

Any other time, any other place and under any other
circumstances, Adam might have found his ego to be a
bit bruised by her reaction. But he knew that her
reaction wasn't personal; she wasn't reacting to him,
but rather to the situation that they were in. A
situation that was only growing more awkward by the
moment, and one that would never be resolved if they
didn't do something to banish the growing tension
between them.

Adam wondered what the real prince would do, if he had
been there now. Would he have been worried about the
nervousness and awkwardness of his new bride? Or would
he simply have 'jumped to' with no questions asked
because it was expected of him? Adam could almost hear
Hagen making more than a few crude remarks somewhere
in the back of his brain, and he pushed them aside.

He couldn't do that to himself. Most importantly, he
couldn't do that to Ami.

Adam clapped his hands together, startling Ami out of
whatever thoughts she was losing herself within.
Blowing on his hands for a bit of warmth allowed him
to see his breath condense on the air in front of him,
and that meant it was cold enough. "Aren't you cold?"

"Not really," Ami shook her head, and then promptly
shivered as the wind blew past them.

"Liar," Adam accused. "Come on, let's go inside. Where
it's warm. We can talk by the fire, all right?"

"I like it out here," Ami insisted.

"You'll like it a lot less when you catch pneumonia,"
Adam chastised her. He took her gently by the
shoulders, propelling her indoors, relieved when she
didn't put up a fight or offer any resistance or
argument. "And you know, I really don't want to spend
the next few weeks feeding you weak broth."

Again, she gave a small, albeit somewhat strained
laugh. "You wouldn't have to. Nynie and Sephrine would
take care of me. That's what ladies-in-waiting do."

Adam steered her towards the sitting room sofa, doing
his best to keep his attention ù and hers ù distracted
from the bedroom area of the bridal chamber. "I've
always wondered about that."

"About what?"

"Ladies-in-waiting. What are they waiting for anyway?"

Ami blinked at him in surprise. "I can't believe you
just said that."

"What?" Adam asked, "Megabyte has a monopoly on using
bad jokes to break the tension?"

"No, but," Ami paused, settling back against the sofa
and straightened the layers of her wedding dress,
"That was considerably worse than a lot of Megabyte's
jokes."

"Everyone's a critic." Giving her a last ù and what he
hoped was reassuring ù smile, Adam crossed the room
and closed the double wooden doors that led to the
balcony.

"So," Ami spoke quietly, her words barely audible over
the pop and hiss of the fire in the hearth and the
resounding thud of the balcony doors closing, "this is
it."

Adam paused, his hands still on the doors. Her less
than subtle approach revived that curious fluttering,
twisting ball of anxiety that he had led himself to
believe he had banished and beaten into submission
during the wedding feast. The way his heart skipped,
and the manner in which he was forced to take several
deep breaths, showed him just how foolish and
misplaced that notion was. "Yeah, this is it."

"It's nice."

Nice?

With a confused frown, Adam turned to look at her and
quickly felt his cheeks warm as he realized that Ami's
words had not referred to the topic that he had
assumed. Instead, she moved around the room, touching
tapestries and furnishings, the smile on her face
reminding him of a kid at Christmastime.

"Nice?" Adam repeated the question aloud.

She nodded, lifting a heavy quilt to her face and
rubbing it against her cheek. "It's very nice. And
this is all ours, right?"

"Yes, it's all ours but . . . " Adam paused, surprised
at how easily the words fell from his tongue. His mind
had no problems reconciling Ami as his wife; but,
looking down at the thick braided gold and silver band
on his right hand, he realized that he was left with
little choice other than reconciliation after the
ceremony today.

"But what?" Wrapped in one of the fur lined cloaks
that was evidently meant as a wedding gift for the new
bride, Ami prompted him to continue.

"But I don't think my mother would be very pleased to
hear you describe this place as 'nice.' A lot of time,
effort, work and à yelling à went into this. Somehow,
I think that it warrants a little more than 'nice.' "
Adam shook his head and laughed softly as she tugged
the hood of the cloak over her head, burying herself
within the depths. "What are you doing?"

Ami straightened her shoulders, her head held high
with the royal poise and dignity that seemed so
fitting on tonight. "I'm enjoying our gifts."

"You're like a kid in a candy store, aren't you?"

"Maybe," she sniffed condescendingly, and held the
elitist pose for all of a few seconds before a wide
grin broke out across her face. "Oh, come on, Adam.
Look at all this stuff. I mean, what on earth are we
going to do with five . . . six à seven different
cloaks, and how many meters of silk do I need for a
few dresses?"

"You're a princess." Adam crossed to her, playfully
tugging at the ties which held the cloak closed. "You
can have as many dresses and cloaks as you want."

"I forget that sometimes." With a sigh, Ami pulled the
hood back from her head, shaking it slightly. "I
haven't gotten used to his whole royalty-princess
thing. I'm not like you."

"Like me?" Adam lifted an eyebrow inquisitively. "You
think that I've gotten used to ù any of this?" He
punctuated his words with a wave of his arm,
indicating not just the bridal chamber, and more gifts
than the High Prince and Damiar Princess could ever
figure out what do with, but the entire Lion Palace as
well.

"You have." Suddenly serious, Ami sank to the sofa and
began untying the cloak. "We may have only been here
two months, but ù you're adapting. You've adapted.
You're not just playing a role anymore, Adam. You're
the prince."

"And I think that you had too much wine at the wedding
feast."

"I'm serious, Adam." She busied herself folding the
cloak and putting it aside before raising her dark
eyes to look at him again. "You have this air about
you now. You carry yourself . . . like royalty. You
look the part. I mean, you really look the part.

"When I look in the mirror, and I see all this finery
and this silly fire diamond," Ami touched the
bluish-white stone that set on her forehead, held in
place by a finely crafted silver chain, "I see a girl
who is all dressed up and playing make-believe. It's
like I'm getting ready for a role in a play or to act
on television. It's not me. But it is you. It's
becoming you more and more.

"And it fits. It looks good on you, Adam."

"Ami," Adam licked his lips, searching for the right
words. For some reason, her words unsettled him. He
didn't want her to think ù he didn't want any of them
to think ù that he had changed. That he wasn't still
Adam Newman.

"We don't," Ami spoke up, smiling apologetically as
she responded to his unspoken thoughts. "You are still
our Adam, but you're Prince Adam too. You're both of
them, and that's all right. I rather like both of
them."

Adam considered her words for a moment, not quite
certain how to respond. Or even if he should respond
at all. He didn't see it ù what she claimed that she
and the others saw; to him, he was still Adam Newman.
Yes, he was more comfortable in the persona he had
been given, over the past two months he'd grown more
comfortable with his role and status, but that didn't
mean that he let go of his roots or past or who he
was. He understood what Ami said when she spoke of
looking in a mirror and playing make-believe; he still
felt that way sometimes. Just not as often as he had
in the beginning.

Maybe there was some truth to her words after all, but
that wasn't something he wanted to think about too
hard or for too long.

Yet, on the other hand, the same could be said for her
as well. Adam had the opportunity to observe Ami quite
intently tonight. If she was as uncomfortable in her
role as she claimed, then she did not show it. She
carried herself like the princess that she was
supposed to be, full of power and pride and an almost
childlike sort of haughtiness that could only have
come from being a spoiled and pampered princess.

Sometimes, the persona was so strong with her, that
Adam could swear that he could see two images
overlapping.  One was the Ami Jackson he had always
known, shy and kind and bold as brass when needed.
Ami of a million braids and a smile that was the sun
coming out from the clouds.  Ami who radiated
vulnerability, arousing his protective instincts even
when she was brave.  His best friend.  The other...

The other he could only name Amideira.  In that
ghostly image he saw a girl tempered in her own
abilities, supremely confident of herself and her
place.  Amideira was more mysterious, more cagey than
Ami.  Power thrummed out of her and around her,
creating ripples of in his vision.  Amideira was
confident because she knew that no one in their right
mind would attack a mage of her skill.  Or so she
hoped.  There was nothing of his Ami in that arching
smile and mildly bored set of the head...except in
those eyes.  There was something there...Some spark
that echoed something he had glimpsed in Ami.

More and more of late, that ghostly image had become
less transparent, the two women slowly merging.  Adam
wondered how long it would be until she--until all of
them, became so consumed by the identities they had
assumed for themselves that there would no longer be
anyway to separate Ami from Amideira. And what really
panicked him was the growing feeling in the back of
his head that whispered, would it really be such a bad
thing?  There were worse destinies to be born into
than that of a prince.

Adam shuddered.  He had no wish to think on this
tonight but with Ami's and Amideira's eyes staring at
him curiously, it was impossible to ignore.
Impossible to ignore, and he wondered if that was what
she saw when she looked at him? When she told him that
he was Prince Adam.

"Adam?" The feathery light touch of her hand on his,
pulled him from his wandering thoughts. [Adam?]

He shook his head to clear away the lingering thoughts
and gave her hand a squeeze. "I'm sorry, I was just
thinking."

"I know. You were a million miles away. Share?"

"I was just thinking that it looks good on you too,"
Adam wound his fingers through a handful of braids,
giving her a smile, "Your Highness."

"Don't start," Ami averted her gaze, and tried to free
the one hand he still held onto, but Adam refused to
relinquish his hold.

"I didn't start, you did." Adam raised her hand to his
lips and brushed a light kiss across her knuckles,
"I'm finishing it."

Whatever objections or comments she would have made,
whatever words would have been exchanged between them,
whether playful or serious, all died the moment her
gaze returned to his. In that moment, all was
startling clarity. Without a single word passing
between them, they both acknowledged the truth of
their situation, of what they were dancing around and
trying hard to avoid.

"Ami--"

She pressed her fingers to his lips, forcing him into
silence. "Do you have any regrets?"

"Regrets?"

"If à if we never go home again, if this is it, Adam,
if you're stuck with me forever . . . do you have any
regrets?"

He didn't answer her immediately, but neither did he
worry about his silence offending her. Adam knew from
the earnest pleading in her dark eyes, that she wanted
nothing more from him than the truth and he owed her
nothing less than that. So, he held her hand for a
moment, looking inside of himself for answers. Did he
have any regrets? Could he spend the rest of his life
married to his best friend, married to the beautiful
woman sitting beside him, waiting on his answer?

"I think that I'd have to feel stuck before I could
regret anything," Adam told her gently, pressing a
soft kiss to her fingertips, "And I really don't feel
stuck."

"Me neither." Then she leaned forwards, her mouth
pressing against his . . . and it was the beginning of
everything.

*** End of Chapter Thirty-Three


=====
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