by Amira Rain
Mary-Lou knew nothing could be done about the woman’s pain. The woman knew it too, but elected not to see it – chose to believe that as long as someone was guilty, it would go away.
Wiley had done the exact same thing.
Irma addressed the crowd, as did Rowfer. They were the last to do so, their words sensible and pragmatic. Emotionless. Irma called for peace, Rowfer urged for logic; both agreed that this was the last trial of its kind to be held.
Wiley and Joel were brought forth, then. Chained, muzzled, pushed along like cattle – Mary-Lou had to look away. Beside her, Jonas had grown rigid and pale; Mary-Lou focused on her mate, on his pained expression.
“We can leave,” she whispered to him.
Jonas glanced at her, blue eyes dim. He shook his head. “I have to be here. I have to send him off.” The Lion Shifter took a deep, rattling breath. “You have a speech to make,” he added.
Mary-Lou nodded, in understanding and shared pain. She pressed closer, as close as their seats high above the arena allowed. Jonas and Mary-Lou had been invited closer, offered first row seats to the judging of their victimizers. Both had refused, disgusted and saddened in turns.
In the arena, the mock-judge had finished listing the crimes for which Wiley stood trial. Mary-Lou kept her eyes on Jonas as the sound of metal on metal resounded across the empty space, as the crowd howled in the wake of a hollow thump. She had no need to see Wiley Turbo die.
Jonas did. Her mate’s blue eyes were focused on the man who kneeled before them, remained so long after Wiley’s lost the light of life. His grip on the armrest tightened until it bent, claws leaving deep gouges in the twisted metal.
It was over.
Mary-Lou let out a breath she had not known she was holding. It was over. She faced the arena again, trembling at the sight of Wiley’s prone, headless body dragged backwards through a pool of his own blood. This – no one, no one deserved to be treated like this. Not even a monster.
“Wait!”
Mary-Lou did not know when she had risen, where she had found the strength or voice to do so. The crowd turned to look at her like one, the men and women far below silencing at her command. The human woman straightened her shoulders, calmed her heart and focused on what she wished, what she had to do.
“I demand the right to Wiley Turbo’s body.”
A low murmur went through the crowd. Down below, a sharp-eyed man nodded.
“Of course. The body will be yours to tear apart,” he said. “As the Law decrees.”
“The body will be buried,” Mary-Lou snapped, “And mourned. As is proper.” She held her hand up against the resulting wave of outraged cries, patiently waiting until the crowd was once more silent. The men and women in the arena were frowning, but their eyes were curious. Intent.
Mary-Lou was willing to make the effort and teach them the difference between just and cruel. She spoke.
“The Old Law falls today – crumbles this very moment. If its supporters can no longer use it to wreck havoc on their opponents, we can no longer wield it as a tool of justice.” Green eyes swept over the crowd, focused and compelling.
“ Wiley Turbo was a criminal. Joel Urban is a tyrant. Their fate was determined by the laws they upheld. What is to be done after, however, depends on us – on our understanding of right and wrong. Defiling a man’s body after his death is not right, is not just; I will not condone nor stand by the practice. This is my belief. My choice.
Freedom is what we fought for – what we should continue to seek and uphold. Do not let bloodlust, loss, or grief cloud your eyes: Today is not about revenge, a continuation of an old war. It is a new beginning. What you do now, this very moment must be your choice – will be what you can expect others to do to you in the future.
Respect your freedom, use it wisely. Elect leaders who would guarantee its presence in your life. Those are the tasks, the only true and just goals, that stand before you now.”
A moment of silence followed Mary-Lou’s words – a quiet wonderment that broke with a peal of laughter, of cheering so loud that it seemed to shake the very skies. Jonas squeezed Mary-Lou’s hand, a smile lighting his tired face. A new start.
“And if we wish for you to lead us?” Someone screamed. Mary-Lou turned her attention back to the arena, to the crowd, and very carefully shook her head.
“I will fight for you,” the human woman said. “I would die for you. But I will not, cannot lead you – it is not my calling, not my fate. Do not make people into gods; look at them for who they are, what they can do. Choose a leader who would champion your interests, a man or woman willing and able to dedicate their life to ensuring political and social stability. This person is not me. I have no wish to command you, to tell you what is wrong and what is right.
“All I ask for is Wiley Turbo’s body, and your honor.”
Mary-Lou turned to Jonas. “Let’s go,” she said. Jonas threw her a bemused look, but followed in his mate’s wake without a question. There was nothing left for them to see, no one who deserved their attention. They exited the arena among the cheers of hesitantly happy men and women.
Irma waited for them by the arena’s exit. “We will take care of Turbo,” she said, then “Go. But if you think you are getting away with not holding a proper ceremony, you are mistaken.”
Jonas’ hand tightened about Mary-Lou’s at the Tiger Shifter’s words. “We know,” Mary-Lou smiled, bolstered by the happy warmth she felt through her bond with Jonas.
Sasha and Cara were waiting for them in the car. The Fox was positively bouncing in her seat, not knowing what was happening but feeling something important, something wonderful coming. “Come on!” she urged, squealing in delight when Mary-Lou asked Sasha to drive them to the nearest courthouse.
It was a quiet, swift affair. They had no rings to exchange, no bouquet to throw; it did not matter. Mary-Lou could not stop smiling the entire time, and Jonas could barely bear to look away from her long enough to read the legal document that was to bind their lives into one.
“Sorry,” Mary-Lou whispered against her mate’s – her husband’s – lips, after. “I couldn’t wait. We will have to do this all over again, but today – it had to be today.”
Jonas laughed, deep and joyful, and bent to kiss her again. “Thank you,” he told her, serious and so, so happy his eyes were lit with it. “I will marry you a thousand times over, if you let me.”
Somewhere in the background, Cara was sobbing with happiness, Sasha was holding in manful tears. Irma and Jonathon, Emma and Ronald, Jenna and Katy and Nicholas and Rowfer and Erik – they were all safe, all happy and free to be happy, live as they wished.
Mary-Lou kissed Jonas and smiled.
This was worth dying for, worth living for: Not power, not money, not status, but people.
How simple life was.
THE END
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Thanks in advance xx
Amira
Watch for “A Burden To Bear” coming soon!
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