Return-Path: kathreele@earthlink.net
Date: Fri, 13 Mar 1998 18:05:36 -0500
From: Kathe Roper 
To: martntal@wtouch.net
Subject: A Matter of Honor 1/?

Disclaimer: Don't anything here except for the idea the original terms
and Grandfather Otto. JQ2K characters belong to
Alexis Ericta. Making no money off of this. 
Achievers: Suze, as always is ok. Anybody else, let me know if you want
to post it, otherwise it will be posted at
http://www.crosswinds.net/berlin/~medea/honor.html
Category: ALT, DBN-HR, 2K, E, H. 
*Comments, flaming marshmallows, sleeping bags *grin*, and copies of the
new Ani DiFranco cd can be sent to me at kathreele@earthlink.net

 It is a time of great change within the realm what was the First
Alliance. The Ideals of the First Alliance have been
forgotten by many, and the time has come that they should be restored.
One young woman has been chosen by destiny to
bring back honor to her land, for when honor is lost, what remains? She
fights without this knowledge, she fights for
revenge and to gain back what remains of her old life. Along the way she
will find a new life. The Age of Gold and the
Immortals has past, along with the Age of Silver, and the Age of Bronze.
This is the Age of Epic Heros where sagas are
mad and dynasties formed, let it be done.


VALKYRIE PRODUCTIONS 
Presents 
  
  
A Matter of Honor 
By Käthe Lützow Röper 

Authors note: This is beginning In Medias Res, meaning: "In the middle
of...". The first paragraph is the time when most of
the fic will take place but the rest of this first portion is a
flashback.
 
  
     She cursed his name under her breath. All this for a love a man,
she almost spat on the ground at the thought. But he
was gond now, not dead, that she knew in her heart, but he was gone. All
that remained were the ghosts of his presence,
and they seemed to be everywhere she looked. She thought over the events
of the last two and a half years. She
remembered the first time she had met him, that day in the Hall of
Elders...
	
      "Zoya, stop tugging at your skirts," her grandfather had urged.
	"I don't see the reason why I have to wear a skirt for this ceremony
anyway. This is supposed to confirm my standing
as a warrior, right?" Her grandfather nodded. "Then why do I have to
wear a skirt, this is not the uniform of a warrior."
	"That is true Zoya, but remember that you are not just any other
warrior getting confirmed today, you have special
standing. Now be quiet." She looked up at his kindly face and saw a
slight smile. He could never stay mad at his
granddaughter for long, she always did something to make him smile, it
was one of her many talents.
	How could she forget her special standing? She was Zoya von Worthin,
decendent of the first Chief Warrior for the
Alliance. That was more than 150 years in the past, when the Alliance
first came to be.          
	Zoya had grown up knowing all about her family history, it was hard not
to. Everywhere there were reminders of the
mighty von Worthin's that had come before; pictures, medals, crests,
swords, etc. She had been born 18 years before,
right in this very palace. From her first recollections she had been
taught The Ideals of the Alliance: Truth, Honor, Bravery,
Personal Worth and Family.
	Her parents had both died mysteriously the winter of her sixth year.
Her grandfather, who stood with her now as she
was awaiting confirmation, had taken her in to live with him.
Grandfather Otto was the Alliance's Chief Tactician. Otto had
noticed her talents early on. Being the military tactician he was, he
was in the correct circle to get her training as a warrior
for the Alliance. Starting from her seventh winter, when she came of
proper age, she had trained with the best fighters,
teachers, healers and strategists that the Alliance had to offer. It
helped that she came from one of the most well known
families int he country but she was truly an exceptional student. She
excelled in  any endeavor she tried, she became a
master of sword play, of deception and of the healing arts which her
grandmother taught her. But her love was the love of
ther Grandfather Otto, and she became his apprentice in her fifteenth
winter. It wasn't a surprise that she had been
accepted at the Alliance's top warrior academy, Selshin Academy, know to
the students and alumni as "The Block". Zoya
was able to keep up her training as apprentice when her grandfather
became the Professor of Strategic Studies at The
Block. The following two years had gone by without event, Zoya rose to
the top spot at the academy ans was much loved
by the students and faculty alike. Now the day had come, the day she had
been preparing for since she was seven years
old, her confirmation as a warrior for the Alliance.
	Zoya stood stiffly next to her grandfather, the Minister of Elders
stood at the front of the room, rambling on and on.
She had heard this speech many times before, from her grandfather, from
the faculty at The Block and from every tecaher
that she had ever had. The Minister was commanding The Ideals of the
Alliance to the new protectors of it. Zoya believed
whole-heartedly in The Ideals, but like any good citizen and as a good
warrior should, she recognized that the ideals were
just that, ideals. They did not exist in this pure form in her world,
the best that anyone could hope for was the Tamouc,
which was describe as "the best embodiment of The Ideal in an
individual". 'Pretty vague,' she thought, but that was the
way the system worked, and she had faith in it, she had to. Zoya was
snapped back into reality as the Minister called out
the first name for confirmation. Zoya knew that she would be the last
called, as she ws teh top warrior canidate in this
ceremony. She watched her as friends from The Block became confirmed
warriors of the Alliance and noticed the other
warrior canidates from the other academies take their positions in the
throng of faces she already knew so well.
	At last it was time for her name to be called. Her breathing rate
increased, and she stepped forward into the aisle to
walk up to the Minister's postion. She noticed out of the corner of her
gray eyes that someone else had stepped forward
also but she was too intent on the ceremony to take any serious notice
of the raven haired young man that fell in step with
her. The two approaced the Minister and knelt down before him to receive
the confirmation. Zoya was quiet through the
cermony.
	"I charge thee with the utmost honor, the protection of the Alliance
and it's citizens. You have proved your worth to the
Inner Circle and the Circle has rewarded you by making you confirmed
warrriors of the Alliance. Rise now ans receive the
badge of Warrior."
	Zoya and her companion rose. The Minister first looke to the man
standing next to her. "You are hereby charged with
the protection of the Alliance, it's citizens and The Ideals. Receive
your badge Rex von Derbstein, Warrior." Rex took the
gilt badge in his hands and bowed his head. The Minister now looked to
Zoya.
	"You are hereby charged with the protection of the Alliance, it's
citizens, and The Ideals. Receive your badge Mishelle
von Worthin, Warrior."
	Zoya's eyebrows arched in horror. Mishelle? Who in hell was this
Mishelle person?!?! But it was too late, she had
already received her badge and from this time onward she was to be known
officially as Mishelle von Worthin, Warrior for
the Alliance. Zoya spun around to look at her grandfather and saw his
kindly face scrunched up in bewilderment. She
looked back to the Minister, the look of horror still evident in her
fine features, but the Minister didn't notice. He motioned
for the two new warriors to turn around and face the crowd. They
complied but Zoya was still dumbstruck.
	"I present to you the top warriors at this confirmation, Rex von
Derbstein and Mishelle von Worthin. They are equal in
skill and talent and so they are confirmed jointly, may they be the
shining example to the future of the Alliance." The
Minister raised his hands over the heads of Zoya and Rex signaling the
end of the ceremony. The ceremonial horns blared
from the sides of the Hall of Elders. That was the signal for Zoya dn
her new equal to lead the procession of new warriors
and the rest of the guests of the ceremony to the banquet hall for the
evening's revelry. Still baffled at the turn of events,
Zoya proceeded down the carpet in step with her equal. As she passed her
grandfather she shot him a look that he
immediatly deciphered, "What in HELL just happened?!", but she was past
him before he could give her a responsive look.

The Banquet Hall 
Palace of the Alliance 
Warrior's Feast 

 The scene in the Banquet Hall that night was magnificent. The walls
were swaged with rich tapestries depicting the history
of the Alliance and it's warriors. Food tables were piled high with the
hearty food that was a favorite of the warrior class
and the Meade ale that was made especially for the warrior class was in
abundance, flowing from great oak kegs placed at
various points abou the hall. The new warriors were dressed in dress
battle finery. Cloaks, breastplates and leather
abounded and Zoya was no different. She wore her favorite dress, in
truth it was her only dress. It ws made from the finest
jersey fabric that she could find and she wore her favorite accessory, a
black leather brestplate with bronze accents. The
deep wine color of the fabric contrsted sharply iwth the chocolate brown
of her hair that was held back by a braid
encircling her head. She searched teh crowd of guests with her gray eyes
to find her grandfather staked out by one of the
kegs. She smiled to herself, 'I should have known,' she thought to
herself. Unlike her grandfather, Zoya did not share a
fondness for the traditional ale of the warrior. She preferred the white
wine that was made near her family's ancestral home
in the northern territory. She grabbed a glass of the aforementioned
wine and proceed to cross the room to see dear
Grandfather Otto.
	Otto saw her coming. It was hard not to, she seemed to part the room as
she walked. Her gait commanded respect but
he could recognize the lilt in her step that showed that Zoya had a
certain energy about her that few possessed, an energy
that made the room light up when she came in.
	"Grandfather," she kissed him on each cheek, "what happend up there?"
Her gray eyes peered deep into his, like he
was supposed to know why the Minister had mistakenly named her Mishelle.	
      "Now Zoy--I mean Mishelle," Zoya's eyes narrowed, "what makes you
think that I know anything about any of that?"
      "Grrrr, Mishelle, Mishelle, Mishelle. I better get used to it,
it's going to be my name from now on. But where in the
world did he get a name like Mishelle?" Her grandfather just smiled at
her. "Yeah yeah, I know, there's no use in worrying
about it now. Just promise me one thing grandfather..." 
      "What's that?" 
      "That you'll always call me Zoya." 
      "Did you even have to ask?" he hugged his granddaughter tightly. 
      She grinned back at him.  "Now what do you know about this Rex von
Derbstein business?" asking the question she
scanned the room for Rex. She spotted him in the middle of a group of
girls, presumably the dates of the other newly 
confirmed warriors. 
      Her grandfather followed her gaze. "From what I've gathered from
eavesdropping," at that remark the newly dubbed
Mishelle raised an eyebrow, "he is your equal in every way, at least
that's what the Inner Circle believes." 
      "But where did he come from? Who is he?" 
      "It looks like you may have the chance to find out, Zoya my dear,"
Otto remarked and took a sip of ale from his stein.



      Indeed. She did not have long to wait. Rex had broken away from the
giggling girls that had encircled him. He was on
his way to see Zoya. 
      He's very handsome isn't he, she thought to herself as she watched
him cross the room. Rex von Derbstein had jet
black hair, cut very short in the style of ancient warriors, blue eyes
and a jawline chiseled enough to cut glass. He wore the
olive green uniform jacket of the warrior and black pants and the high
leather boots that were customary to the warrior
class. All in all he made a charming figure coming across the hall and
Zoya was taken with him at once. 
      "So you're the famous von Worthin girl. I'm glad to finally meet
you." Rex smiled and bowed, on his way back up he
caught Zoya's hand and kissed it. 
	Her cheeks blazed crimson with embarrassment. "I would like you to meet
my grandfather, Otto von Worthin. And
please, call me Zoya. I may be known to history as Mishelle from now on
but I am known in the present as Zoya." 
      Rex smiled at her and turned to her grandfather, "Pleased to meet
you sir, I am an admirer of your theories." Rex shook
Otto's hand. 
      "Well my boy, I'm glad to hear it. Now if you two will excuse me,
I'm going to go try to find my wife and go dance with
her," Otto smiled at the two of them and then winked at Zoya. Zoya's
eyes nearly popped out of her head. 

      So her grandfather had left them to chat by themselves. They
talked all night and it was evident to everyone that they
got on famously. When they weren't talking they were dancing and they
were regarded as the most handsome couple there.
So that was the beginning of  it all. Rex and Zoya soon were leading
missions jointly and sharing quarters at the bases
around the Alliance frontiers where they were stationed. The two top
warriors had fallen in love and no one in the Alliance
thought anything of it. As long as warriors carried out their duties and
didn't let their personal attachments interfere with
missions the Inner Circle and the Commander-In-Chief of Alliance
Operations (CINC-OPS) looked the other way. For
Zoya it was a wonderful time, for a whole year she carried on without a
care in the world. She lead her missions along the
frontier with Rex by her side and came home with him at the end of the
day. She was blissfully happy until the day the news
came. 

      She had reported to CINC-OPS as usual that morning, she opened the
door to the office and immediatly knew that
something was going on. Everyone turned to look at her, in their eyes
she saw sadness and sympathy. Alarmed she
skipped getting her morning cup of tea and marched straight for OPS'
office. She knocked quickly on his door and waited
for 
his permission to enter. Gratefully she didn't have to wait long, OPS
ordered her in and told her to sit down. Zoya sat in the
chair in front of his desk. Her gray eyes darted around the room, unable
to settle on a single object. OPS' face was stern,
but the sternness was to cover up his emotions. 

      "Zoya, you're grandfather has been taken ill. The healers fear
that he will not live very long. I'm ordering you to take the
first 
transport west and go see him at the palace. Rex is already there on
military business so he will meet you at the depot and
drive you to the palace." 
      Zoya was in shock. She had talked with her grandfather the night
before to tell him that Rex would be coming in late
that night. He had seemed his jovial self only hours before. "The next
transport leaves in ten minutes, correct?" Too stunned
to react any other way she relied on her orders. 
      "Yes, but I'll make a call and delay the transport until you get
there. Go home and pack some clothes and get to the
transport as quickly as possible." 
      "Yes sir." Zoya snapped to attention and saluted her commanding
officer. She turned smartly on her heel and walked
out of the room, out of the office and into the chill of the early
morning. 
  
      The next few hours were a blur in her memory. She remembered
walking against the wind to reach the quarters that
she shared with Rex. She remembered packing clothes hurriedly and
rushing to the Transport Depot and climbing on. After
that her memory was blank until she spotted Rex at the Depot. His face
was pinched with worry and his eyes were red
from lack of sleep but there was something else about him that worried
Zoya. Something that she couldn't put her finger on
and only later did she figure out what that something was. 

      "Rex!" she rushed into his waiting arms and started to cry. 
      He hugged her tightly and brushed her hair with his hand. "I don't
know what happend. Let's get you to him, come on."
Rex ushered Zoya to the waiting vehicle. They drove silently to the
palace and Zoya rushed immediatly to her grandfather's
quarters. She stopped when she saw him. 
      Otto was lying in a bed in the middle of the room. Barely
conscious he motioned for Zoya to come to him. He pulled
her close to him and whispered in her ear. "I will always be with you my
Zoya, remember that." With that he closed his
eyes and his life force ceased to exist. 
      "No, this can't be happening," Zoya shook her head with tears
streaming down her face. "I spoke to him last night, he
was fine and now just hours afterward..." She looked to the healers in
the room. Her eyes searched for answers but she
saw that they had none to give. 

      "I am sorry my lady but we have no answers for you," one of the
healers said. 
      "What do you mean you don't have any answers! Go find some! My
grandfather was a healthy man 12 hours ago and
now he is dead! I want to know why!" Seething with anger Zoya marched
out of the room, Rex tried to follow her but she
held up her hand to stop him. She needed air, she needed to think. 
      Zoya proceeded to the gardens outside the palace. The gardens were
where she had spent so many hours with her
grandfather, playing, learning, studying and now...She shivered against
the cold wind that whipped around her body, she
had left her coat back at OPS' office. Zoya looked up to the sky, it was
darkening quickly. A storm must be brewing 
she thought, and looks too be a bad one. Black and gray clouds swirled
like a vortex in the sky, Zoya half expected to see
a demon appear out of the clouds, but none did. Zoya's hair whipped
around her face and she suddenly felt at peace, for
the first time that day. 
      "Zoya...Zoya...." a voice called out faintly. Zoya spun around to
face an apparition of her grandfather. Too stunned to
speak she stood there, her mouth gaping open. "Close your mouth Zoya or
you'll suck in flies," the spectre said smililing.
Zoya obeyed without question. "Sit down Zoya, I have to tell you
something. As I said, I will always be with you, either as
I am now or in your heart, but I will always be with you. Now listen to
me very carefully." Zoya nodded. "I did not die
naturally, 
I was poisoned. There is something dark at work here in the palace and
now I am sure of it. My death was part of a larger
plan, and you my dear Zoya are destined to uncover it." The apparition
faded and once again she was alone in the garden.                  
      "Poisoned?" Somehow she knew it to be true, her grandfather had
been poisoned but something gnawed at her even
more but she couldn't put a finger on it. 
     "Zoya. Come inside, it's starting to rain." Rex had come out to the
garden and now pulled his love from the garden stool
she was sitting on. He put an arm around her and ushered her back
inside. 

     The events following her grandfather's death happened in quick
succession. Rex and Zoya returned to their home base
on the Eastern Frontier shortly after her grandfather's death ceremony.
As tradition dictated Otto von Worthin was set
adrift in a long boat upon a funeral pyre. Bowman from the shore shot
flaming arrows onto the boat making it catch fire,
such was a warrior's funeral. No tears were shed, Otto would be going to
sit in the Council of Elders on the Otherside. It
was his 
duty as a warrior. Rumors began to fly shortly after Zoya returned home.
The rumors concerned a take over of the Alliance
by forces working from the inside. The military was set on high alert
but tensions were running even higher because no one
knew who or what the threat was, all that was known was that there was
an enemy within. Zoya was offered a position at 
the Tactical Office at Alliance Headquarters, she declined stating that
her place was on the Eastern Frontier, that was
where she belonged. 
      So it came to be one night that Zoya could not get to sleep. It
had been six months since the death of her grandfather
and she still had the same nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. At
2 am she finally decided 
to get up and get a cup of tea and do some reading. She looked over to
Rex's side of the bed, he wasn't there. Must have
the same idea, she thought and smiled. Rex had been so supportive
through the trials, they hopped to be married soon and
even though she was a confirmed warrior for the Alliance, motherhood was
an ever present thought. As she walked 
past the study on the way to the kitchen she heard Rex talking to
someone. That's odd, she thought, who could he be
talking to at this time of day? Something inside her told her to stay
and listen to the conversation. 

      "I just don't like it, not now." Rex said, an air of pleading in
his voice. "We don't have the capabilities yet, Otto was the
first step. I hated doing it to him, he was Zoya's grandfather but he
needed to die. It's all part of the plan." 

      Zoya waited for Rex to finish his conversation and waited back in
their bed for him to return. Presently he came. 
      "Why do you think that Grandfather Otto needed to die Rex?" she
whispered in his ear. "It's all part of the plan, right?
You get close to Otto von Worthin's granddaughter, make her fall in love
with you and then wait for the opportunity and
the order to kill him. Then you continue to support her and let her
almost marry you." She had taken the dagger from her
beside table and it was now positioned to puncture Rex's lung from
behind. 
      "Zoya, listen to me. Come join us, the New Alliance needs people
like you and me. The current government is weak,
we want to build a new tomorrow for our children, yours and mine Zoya."
He rolled over and stroked her cheek. "Join us." 
      "Don't call me that, I am no longer Zoya. You killed her when you
killed her grandfather, I am Mishelle von Worthin,
Warrior for the Alliance, the TRUE alliance." And with that she stabbed
him. She grabbed some clothes and supplies and
rushed out of the house and into the night.



That was a year ago. The take over of the Alliance had been
completed and now the New Alliance was in power.
Fearing for her life Mishelle, as she had been reborn that night,
traveled on foot to her ancestral home on the Northern Sea,
by Neustadt. There she found sanctuary. The home was a fortress, hidden
away in the hills overlooking the sea. This was a 
desolate place to many, rocky, cold, utterly miserable, but Mishelle
loved it. To her, the surroundings echoed her state of
mind. Mishelle had changed since that night, gone was the wonderful
energy which her grandfather had loved, to her that
was part of Zoya and Zoya was dead. Now she was consumed with hate for
Rex and hate for what had happend to the
Alliance. Mishelle spent her days training mentally and physically for
the fight which she was sure that lay ahead. 
 
      So that was how Mishelle von Worthin, Warrior for the First
Alliance, set out of Neustadt, changed both inside and
out. Mishelle had lobed off her hair to just above her shoulders, she
wore a heavy black parka with sherpa lining and a
black sweater. It was early spring and in the north the cold bit to the
center of  a person's soul. The only item remaining
from her past life were the high black boots from her old uniform.
Mishelle set out early that morning on her horse, Travler,
and began to ride 
south east. 

      Mishelle had stopped for a midday rest beside a tiny pond in the
middle of a great forest. The trees blanketed the sky
and allowed in little sunlight but Mishelle didn't mind. She let Travler
drink from the pond as she sat on the bank letting her
mind wander. She cursed Rex's name under her breath. All this for a love
a man, she almost spat on the ground at the
thought. But he was gone now, not dead, that she knew in her heart, but
he was gone. All that remained were the ghosts of
his presence, and they seemed to be everywhere she looked. She looked
down at her left forearm. There was her scar, the
scar that symolized the past. Mishelle ran her fingers over the two inch
scar, 'It healed nicely,' she thought. The scar ran
along the length of her forearm, it was smoother and lighter than the
surrounding skin. She had gotten the cut the night she
ran, she had slipped down an embankment and cut her arm on a sharp rock.
That scar was all that was left, aside from the
boots, from her former life. 
      She suddenly felt hot, 'Thinking to much about the past Mishelle,
you know it's not good for you,' she thought. She
knelt 
down by the pool and looked at her reflection in the still, glassy
water.  She smiled before interrupting the image with her
hands to splash some water on her face. 'Better get moving,' she
thought. Mishelle rounded up Travler, hopped on and set
off into the forrest. 

      It was late in the day and she had reached the western mountain
range, or at least the foothills of it. The daylight was
fading and shadows were creeping in all around her. A owl announced it's
awakining in a nearby tree. She heard a rustling
in the trees and two men stepped into her path. They were both dressed
in the same manner. Heavy brown sweaters,
rough wool pants and boots just like hers. 

      "Stop and state your business," the one with black hair said. He
looked strangly familiar. She looked at him closer,
black hair, blue eyes... 
      "Bryce?" 
      The man looked at the woman he had stopped. There was something
familiar about her too, but..."Zoya?" 
      She grinned back at him. It was the first time that Mishelle had
smiled in a long time and it felt good. "It's me! I'm going
by 
Mishelle now, by the way." She jumped off the horse and hugged Bryce. 
      "Whatever you're going by now, what are you doing here?" 
      "I'm just taking a tour of the territory, trekking into the
mountains for the summer." 
      "Well, I'm glad you're here, whatever the reason, and I know
another person that will be glad to see you as well."
Bryce grinned and winked at her. "Come on, let's get inside before
dark." He grabbed Travler's reigns and Mishelle set off
with him and the other guard. 

      Nearing dusk they approached a make shift camp of some kind. There
were a few ramshakle cottages and other
buildings set up in a circle surrounded by a high wall made of tree
trunks. Bryce led Mishelle into one of the buildings.
There seated among piles of papers was a familiar copper haired head. 
      "Hey bro, look who decided to pay us a visit." 
      Travis Christsansen looked up from his files and saw Mishelle
standing in the doorway with his twin brother, Bryce. A
huge grin spread across Travis' face. He and Bryce had known Mishelle at
Selshin Academy where they were in the class
above hers. Despite the age difference the trio had become great friends
and even lived in the same dormitory. Travis
jumped and ran to hug Mishelle. "Zoya, I'm so glad to see you. We need
someone with your talents right about now." 
      "Hi Travis, it's Mishelle now by the way. What do you mean you
need someone with my talents?" She looked at him
raising an eyebrow. 
      "Ah, decided to take the confirmation name finally did we?" Travis
grinned at her but her expression told him loud and
clear 'Lay off.' "I better take you to see the head honcho of this
ramshakle bunch, he'll explain it to you." Travis took
Mishelle's arm and lead her to another building in the compound, but on
the way he shed some light on what was going on
there. 

      "After the fall of the Alliance the citizens, warriors and
officials that remained loyal to the old government retreated into
the 
wilderness of the the Frontiers. They set up camps, not unlike this one
and began to prepare." 
      "I heard inklings of a resistance movement when I was in Neustadt
but I had no idea that it had come to this point. So
who's leading this movement, one of the old ministers?" 
      "Not exactly..." Travis opened the door to a building at the end
of the compound. It was a low building supported by
heavy wooden beams and packed with white mud and grasses native to the
area. (Basically a Tudor style building but one
that would appear in Germany. All the buildings in the compound are
built like this one.). It had a newly thatched roof and
it's door was made from a heavy dark wood, with a simple lever to open
the door. Mishelle peaked in and through the dim
light in the room saw a man sitting by the fire. He turned around and
gave Mishelle the shock of her life, she never thought
that she would 
ever have to see him again. It seems that she was wrong.

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