Willimina does not take long to fall into the blissful nothingness of sleep, Tallel's heat wrapped around her like a security blanket. She sleeps so deeply she barely moves, her body needing to build its reserves back up. When wakefulness does tug on the corners of her consciousness, Willa tries to ignore it, tries to fall back into nothingness. But, it is to no avail, demands of the body force her to realise the time for sleep is past. Stiffly, she stretches, a low groan escaping her when places that weren't so sore before screech in protest. In the back of her mind she supposes that's normal,considering the bruises and the seven spent sleeping on a dirt floor. Her eyes open, and she turns in Tallel's arms to face him, lingering gaze taking in the seemingly peaceful features of slumber. She could watch him like this forever…

Though Tallel certainly lets Willa move, his arms are heavy around her, tightening to bring her closer against him when she’s done turning. His eyes drift open gradually, the tranquility of sleep lingering upon handsome features as he dwells only in the moment. He sees her, his fingers drift to caress her cheek, and he is content that he has all he needs. “Good morning, my love,” he whispers, and tilts his head to kiss her softly, feeling it warm slowly through him from head to toe until their lips part. “How are you feeling?”

Tallel's tawny orbs reveal themselves finally, and for the first time in sevens an honest to Faranth smile slips across Willimina's features, though it is small, and soft in its demeanour. “Sore…” She replies, her voice a bit dry from sleep. “Stiff.” Comes her second reply. “I've never longed for our bed so much in my life…” She gives a clipped chuckle and brushes a kiss to Tallel's lips. She lays there a moment, loath to leave to safety and comfort of her husband's embrace, but again, nature beckons. Finally, she pulls herself from Tallel's arms, standing to look for something to wear. She doesn't want to put the other outfit back on, the thought turns her stomach. “Did you say you grabbed some clothes before you left?” Willa turns somewhat stiffly to look at her husband, a fine eyebrow raised in question.

Tallel’s lips curve into a wide smile at the sight of Willimina’s - not one of his grins yet, but the closest he’s come in a long while. “Me either,” he agrees over the matter of their bed, his hand sifting through the curls at her temple before she finally has to get up. He pushes up to sitting in her wake, wincing slightly himself; the cot wasn’t uncomfortable, but he hardly moved at all during the night, and it certainly isn’t meant for two. He stretches, a series of subtle but audible pops emanating from his back and shoulders, and nods to her question.

“I’ll get them for you,” he says, standing and placing a kiss on her shoulder. “Take care of yourself and drink some water. I’ll be right back.” Once he has his pants back on, he slips out briefly, returning a few moments later with a saddlebag. What he produces for her is simple but clean and refined enough for the bearing she’ll need to project in full force today - a deep green ankle-length a-line dress with cap sleeves, the hem and scooped neckline embroidered with a simple block spiral in silver. “Hm,” he says approvingly as he holds it up. “I’d never thought about it much before, but I’m suddenly very grateful you and mama are nearly the same size.”

Willimina looks around when Tallel exits the wagon, grateful to find a chamber pot amongst the things littered about the wagon. After relieving herself, she doesn't have long to wait before Tallel returns with the saddlebag and dress. Willimina too, is happy that she seems to be close in size to her mother in law. She laughs at his comment but wastes no time in taking the dress and donning it. She's all too eager to cover up the reminders of her unwilling trip to the swamps. Once dressed she feels a little better. Oh what she would give to be able to sink into the baths at Igen right now… A little digging around lends Willimina a length of cord which she uses to tame her unruly curls into a thick, serious, plaited braid. Add a veil and Willimina would look like one of the blooded ladies in Igen. “Thank you love, I'm glad you thought to bring something, odd as the action might have been at the time.”

Sighing, she wanders over to open the shutters of the wagon and look without. Her eyes land on the place their prisoners sit, and they fill with heated rage. It boils up in an instant, shattering whatever good mood she may have been in. Today Willimina might play judge, jury and executioner, and the thought fills her with both pleasure and despair. Despair that this ever happened at all, and pleasure at the fact that she will see justice done today. She looks at Tallel, not wanting to burst the fragile bubble of joy they exist in because they found each other again, but unable to see a way around it currently. They can't hide in here all day. “I still want them to die…” She says flatly. While she hadn't been physically violated, thank Faranth, she felt violated in so many other ways. And the damage done to her people as a result fills Willa with a deep need for vengeance, an eye for an eye is something Willimina has far less trouble with than Tallel.

Tallel produces his own clean clothes while Willa changes, loose black pants with a green vest and silver sash donned to match her. Some part of his brain must have been thinking ahead to this moment, apparently. “I knew I was getting you back,” he says quietly to her thanks, the appreciation he always feels to see her in a new outfit seeping through the seriousness of their situation.

He knows the moment is broken as soon as Willimina opens the shutters. But his head is much clearer than it had been the night before, his heart steadier and his emotions easier to take a grip on. He comes close after she speaks, looking down between them pensively as he takes her hands. “Saikhan,” he says, pausing to pull and release a deep breath before continuing, “I’ve never…wanted anyone to die before. Never wanted to kill. I’ve wanted both over the past few sevendays. One man died because I took Shurga on a leap. He became my weapon, so his blood is mine. Argus died because I dodged a blade meant for me. So much of me screams that…that’s enough. More than enough. And that’s not counting the men who took you.” He doesn’t have to ask to know what happened to them.

He goes quiet again, still looking at their joined hands with obvious struggle limning his features, the raw pain of the night before rising to the surface again, albeit under tighter control. “I had a lot of time to think once I’d taken over here. While I was tying them up, digging and stacking graves for the two that died…and I was considering what exactly it means to want and eye for an eye. It means…to want the same for them as they’ve done to you. And they haven’t killed you or me or our children, so by that standard, we can’t kill them. But…”

Tawny eyes rendered dark with the shadow of the business at hand turn to the window, looking to where the Elders are kept. “I’ve also never looked into someone’s eyes and seen absolute contempt and hatred…until them. Exsuss and Versai. It would almost be a mercy for him, unhinged as he is. He would see anyone die who he thinks is in his way and have nothing upon his conscience. And Versai… She ordered that adept to take aim at me, I’m sure of it. He was too green to have done it without being told.” He swallows, shaking his head and dropping his eyes again. “She wanted me to kill her, and I couldn’t. It felt like letting her win, doing what she wanted. But the thought of her walking through the world carrying so much hatred around for us is not something I think I can live with. She won’t stop being a danger until she’s gone.”

He lets that hang for another moment, clearly trying to keep his composure in check. “Brienne is a sheep, as I said. I don’t know if death is what she deserves, but definitely exile at the least. And that woman with Javid… He’s kept her alive for a reason. We need to talk to him and find out what it is.” He looks up at Willa again at last, his eyes glassy. He doesn’t hide his torture will in front of her…but by the First Egg, he needs to figure out what to do with it before judgments happen today.

“We may not have lost anyone, but we could have Tallel! They could have starved us with their raids.” Willimina's words are rushed, as if they've been whirling around, desperate for release. Her eyes float back out to the captured elders, distant for just a moment. “And that…. That bitch Javid captured was amongst us for months, I remember seeing her with the dancers, in and out of the crowds.” Willimina's fists ball at her sides, nails imprinting half moons upon her palms. She turns back, eyes stormy with the tumultuous shifting of her emotions. “I'm not so sure that they wouldn't have killed one of us, given the chance.” Tallel's advice on Exsuss and Versai is taken eagerly, Willimina nodding her agreement. “Aye, they signed their own death warrants the moment they issued the order to take me…and they were not alone, Argus and Brianne were here, sheep or not they are just as guilty.” A moment of sorrow is given up for the adept killed, and for the unfortunate circumstance the other green adept found himself in. “I am not saying that I seek the blood of all my love, but the four outside these walls do not deserve to see the light of day again, let alone our mercy.”

Willimina hefts a heavy sigh, eyes softening. “I am sorry that any of the blood that must be spilled is on your hands Saikhan, I know that you abhore the loss of life, and I love you for it.” Willimina stands up tall, back braced against a future and a day that Willimina must now face. “You, you taught me that two wrongs don't make a right, that night you stayed my hand from taking the life of Ephraim's murderer… My murdering him would not have brought Ephraim back, and I would not have found you, my love. But, sometimes justice and the assurance of safety requires us to do things that are more than undesirable. This might not be an eye for an eye Tallel, but it is justice.”

“We cannot afford to look weak now.”

Tallel’s eyes fall again as Willimina makes the point about Brienne, knowing well that he can’t defend her in complicity and not really wanting to in the first place. But part of him very much wants to be angry with his wife for what he perceives as being callous, which wars with another part of him that whispers that he is callous for thinking such a thing in the wake of all that’s happened. It creates such a conflict within him that he turns away from her, knuckles pounding into the countertop and rattling the medicines lining the walls. “I know,” he growls, broad shoulders hunching as though he’s trying to keep everything contained within his chest. “But I have never seen equal treatment as weakness.” More quietly he adds, “And what I believe is right doesn’t always work when it comes to the harsher truths of the world.”

His fist works upon the countertop, redness blossoming in his knuckles from the impact. “Let all three of the Elders die, then,” he says as he straightens, his voice subdued and dull rather than the rich low tenor that normally defines his speech. “Keep them gagged so no one has to listen to their poison anymore. Maybe consider leaving them for Thread or exposure rather than taking a blade or bolt to them. But I still think we should hear what Javid has to say about that woman, whether it changes your mind or not.”

His gaze finds his bracers and daggers upon the opposite counter, and weariness settles heavily on his shoulders again. Once more. If he’s going to stand beside his wife in deference to her judgment, to be an illustration of the strength she wishes to project…he must wear them in readiness to wield them if necessary once more.

Willimina, while strong in what she believes, knowing what she believes is justice causes conflict in Tallel, is still shocked when Tallel's knuckles and fist rap upon the countertop. So much so she jumps and backs up a step, eyes wide as she watches his back and listens to his words. Colour floods her cheeks and the bridge of her nose as equal treatment is brought up. For a second Willimina gives pause, wondering if it would break them irreparably if she goes through with this, but she feels so strongly about it that she can't ignore the gut feeling that she's right. Or as right as she can be in this situation.

Willimina takes a deep breath, steadying herself and her thoughts as she closes the space between them and places a tentative hand upon her husband's back, hesitating just a moment before her hand touches him. “Tallel… I…” she swallows, unsure what to say, how to get her point across, or to say that she did hear him when he spoke, that she does understand. But she cannot see past the things done this time, enough is enough. Quietly, she says the only thing she can think to, the one thing she does feel she can agree to. “I'll listen to what Javid has to say, but my mind is made up as to the other three…” She may yet change her mind, or she may not, but in this moment she is sure. Sighing, her hand slips away from Tallel's shoulder and she turns to move for the door. “We should eat.” she says softly before stepping out the door, hoping Tallel follows her… and doesn't later hate her for what she believes must be done.

Tallel doesn’t refuse Willimina’s touch at all, instead wanting it despite the way they clash over ideals of justice. It isn’t that she hasn’t gotten her point across or that he doesn’t understand. It’s simply that he disagrees with her, for the time being at least. To her words, he gives a nod, sighing deeply as she mentions eating. “Yes,” he murmurs, and leaves his daggers to follow her out the door. He catches her right as she gets outside, however, and pulls her into his arms, kissing her soundly. He has a point to get across as well - one that overshadows anything that may happen today. “I love you, Willa,” he tells her in a rough half-whisper. “No matter what comes to pass, that is more true than anything else.”

He takes her hand, pressing it over his heart and catching her eyes to make certain she understands. After a moment, a faint rumbling sound captures his attention, and he looks up, squinting in the early sunlight toward each horizon. The unmistakeable dust cloud rising from many wagon wheels rises in the northwest, still some leagues away, and a smile tugs at his lips. “It’s the Kheeriin.”

The sound kissing is a surprise for Willimina, who really hadn't quite expected it. However, like a fitted glove she falls right into it, the feel warm and familiar. “I love you too, Tallel.” She responds, chocolate depths searching his tawny ones finding some reassurance there. Her gaze follows his when rumbling fills the air, and more relief floods through Willimina at the thought of having allies on hand. “Is your mother well enough to be travelling?” She asks in a low tone, turning back to look at Tallel with concern. After all, his family is hers too. She breaks their embrace to walk to the edge of camp, shading her eyes with one hand while the other lifts to her lips to aid in a high, shrill whistle of greeting.

“I made sure of it,” Tallel replies, returning Willimina’s concerned gaze earnestly. One corner of his mouth lifts in a subtle smirk. “But she’s stubborn enough she would have done it anyway.” He turns to look at the approaching dust cloud alongside his wife, the tiny forms of the frontmost wagons only barely starting to take shape at this distance. He plugs his ear as she whistles, dropping his hand just in time to listen for the answer…which soon comes, high and distant. Even that small, simple exchange does much to bolster his heart.

He can’t help but turn his gaze northward, hoping to see another dust cloud rising from that quarter soon. Their children and the hearts of their home are on their way. They can’t arrive soon enough.

Willimina too, seems bolstered by the Kheeriin’s reply. Taking a deep breath, she turns and faces the camp at hand. “Food, then we talk to Javid.” Willimina moves around the camp looking for things, purposely avoiding the area housing the Elders. She finds the things she needs to make a decent meal and begins the process. Soon enough the pleasant smells of a heavy meal fill the air and permeate the senses. Willimina urges it to cook faster, her belly screaming for something of substance. But, wishing it to cook faster will not make it do so, and so she spends her time mulling over the events of the last turn and a half, of all that has come to pass.

Despite her earlier assurance that her mind had been made up, Willimina deals with her own internal struggle, knowing that decisions made today will define her for the rest of her life, will define how her people see her as a leader. Hard thought is put into what must be done. By the time breakfast is ready, she knows one thing, Exsuss and Versai’s fates are sealed, she cannot afford to let them live, her family, and her people’s safety depends on their deaths. Sorry as she is to admit it. The thought process leaves her eyes stormy with inner struggle. Brienne’s fate is harder, because here, Tallel is right, she is a sheep, a follower. But doing nothing to stop Exsuss and the others, following along blindly, makes her just as guilty in Willimina’s mind.

This whole time it is hard for her to look at Tallel, knowing that despite their love for each other, and despite the fact that she knows he won’t leave her, she knows that some part of him will hate what happens today, will always struggle with what will come to pass. As she prepares plates of food for them both, of one more thing she is sure, she’ll not let any of the blood spilled today fall on his hands. If she does not decide to stake them for thread, she’ll carry out her sentences herself, as any good leader should do. Do not ask others to dirty their hands with something one would not do one’s self. It’s a rule Willimina tries very hard to live by.

Tallel nods to Willimina’s words. He’s starving, but his stomach hasn’t been too rude about it yet. It’s getting close, however. He helps her gather ingredients, doing whatever she needs him to help with to speed things along. But no amount of help from him is going to make it cook faster, either.

He sits with her as they wait for their food to finish, falling into his own well of thought once more. It may be that he struggles with the deaths that must happen here today, the number determining for how long that struggle will last. But he thinks he may come to accept it all as necessary in time. After all, what he’s witnessed in Exsuss and Versai is the worst he has come face to face with, and he has no doubt that they would kill him or those he loves, given the chance and willing hirelings.

To erase the risk of it ever happening again, he can accept their deaths, and already has to an extent.

He doesn’t know about Brienne. He does know that she must at least be exiled, but if there’s even the slightest suspicion that she might try something herself, she can join the others as far as he’s concerned. He isn’t invested in her or Aztrexia as much as he’s invested in seeing fair justice meted out to them both, whatever form it may take.

So intently is he mulling this over that he misses when Willimina fixes the plates. He thanks her with a kiss to the cheek and eats fully half of what he’s been served before speaking again. “We both think very loudly, saikhan,” he observes, his lips quirked a bit wryly.

“At least we think.” Willimina replies with a grin, eyes flicking up to look at Tallel. Most, if not all of her meal is gone by this point, she’d been ravenous. Now, she swallows down water, soothing both her thirst and her parched throat. When she looks around, more movement from the direction the Kheeriin approach from catching her notice. Still a distance from the other caravan, clouds of dust eddy up like an oncoming storm. Tipping her finger in that direction, she alerts Tallel to the movement. “The Armida, I would guess.” She states, setting her plate to the side. It’ll be some time yet before they are within signaling range and Willimina still has something to do. She has yet to talk to Javid, and it needs doing. Standing, she looks for the man, or Jezka, one of them has to be nearby.

Tallel smiles for Willimina’s counter, taking it as a favorable sign. He’s shoveling the last of the food into his mouth when she points out the second sign of incoming allies and nods agreement with her guess. It may not be the one he’s most hoping for, but it’s still more than welcome.

He watches his wife as she rises and immediately knows what she’s looking for. Gathering their dishes together, he sets them aside and joins her, wanting just as much to hear what Javid has to tell them about Aztrexia.

The spymaster is already busy tending to incoming firelizard messages, though he’s not being bombarded. He’s also in conversation with Jezka, who is the first to note their leaders and supposes they’re probably looking for him. At her gesture, Javid turns and surveys them a moment, pleased to see that they appear rested and in harmony with one another, at least at first glance.

For his part, Javid has rested as well, catching up on much-needed sleep despite trading watches with Jezka throughout the night. He has also washed up and donned a new change of clothes, looking nearly identical to Tallel save for a black vest, sash, and headscarf. Only the edges of his vest hint at the Zingari colors, these done in a subtle, simple embroidering of dark green and silver knotwork. He clearly means to stand visibly with them today.

He crosses to them rather than expecting them to come to him, hands clasped at his back and keen amber eyes pensive. “I know,” he says in a lowered tone as he joins them at close quarters, “you are wondering why I have kept her alive.”

Willimina nods at Javid as he approaches and speaks, chocolate eyes bright with unanswered questions. “Aye, I’m very interested indeed to know your reasoning.” Willimina certainly can’t think of a reason to haul a captive this far, not unless said captive is of some value. And Trexa certainly doesn’t have any value in Willa’s eyes, then again, she hasn’t been privy to all that has transpired with the young spy adept. “Why haul her all over the countryside?”

“Mostly for the sake of allowing you to carry out judgment upon her,” Javid replies with a little inclination of his head. “I gave her a choice to either remain silent and face my blade, or to give me names and locations in exchange for her life. She chose the latter.” The spymaster spares a quick glance over to where Jezka has Aztrexia under guard, well-removed from the bound and gagged Elders. “It’s because of her that Tallel knew where to come; I passed it on as soon as I was able. We also have the names of every Elder and those loyal to them because of her, though it’s clear there aren’t many left. Furthermore…”

Javid’s expression goes from cool to annoyed now, his tone following suit. “She agrees with the progressive direction you’ve taken, which is infuriating given who she initially aligned with, but sheds some light on the way she thinks. I don’t believe she would have had a direct hand in trying to kill either of you because of it. Something has prevented her from integrating among the people, though I can only guess what it could be. She is a mercenary, plain and simple. Going to whomever buys her without much of a conscience to guide her beyond greed for marks. When the stakes became her life…she turned her back on the old ones in order to remain alive.”

His reasons and information delivered, he looks between Willimina and Tallel steadily. “I told her I would make certain she would come to no harm from the Elders, though I obviously didn’t need to worry, considering how toothless they are. I did not promise to shield her from what you see fit to do with her, nor will I stand in the way of whatever you decide. But I will say that I do not believe death is necessary for her, misguided though she has been. We killed the men who captured you, Willimina, and I am weary of blood even though I will do whatever I must to protect you and yours. And all of us.”

He gives a nod to indicate that he’s finished, his hands clasping easily at his back again as he awaits their reactions.

Willimina is thinking as Javid speaks, the leader in her listening carefully to each word he speaks. With a glare to where Trexa is being held and a heaving sigh, Willimina determines she can only agree in this instance, though she’s pretty sure that it was Trexa who did the poisoning of their food, it was not a poison that caused death, nor did she physically lay hands on anyone. Willimina might not be forgiving of the Elders, or of the men who took her, now dead in the swamps, but she can’t find herself doling out a death sentence to someone who was just trying to make their next mark. And if Willimina had a problem with mercenaries, she never would have taken on S’ayde, or Igraine, or Morgaine for that matter. With a curt nod, Willa crosses her arms under her breasts. “Much as the angry side of me would like to disagree, I think you’re right Javid. I’ll make sure to keep your words in mind as I think on what judgement to pass on. She’ll not have to worry about losing her head today.”

Willimina sends a look Tallel’s way, see, she’s trying not to let her anger get the best of her. A lizard pops in from ::between::, a little blue, one of Igraine’s. The message is short, but sweet. The mother clan would be here by mid-afternoon. So, not too far behind the arriving Kheeriin and Armida clans. “Thank you, Javid, for everything. I have much to think about, and we must prepare for the arrival of the other clans, they’ll all be here this evening. And I will pass my judgements tonight. Come, there is much to do and little time to do it in.”

However that Look from Willimina might be construed, the expression on Tallel’s face is wholly - if quietly - approving…and proud of her. There’s even a hint of the fierce quality to that pride evident. He also fits Javid with a grateful look as Willa thanks him, reaching out to clasp forearms with him before the spymaster bows and retires for a moment to confer with Jezka once more.

Tallel is soon immersed in the task of working with his wife to prepare for the evening, greeting clans as they arrive and trying not to become too impatient before their own arrives. He just wants it all to be done. Then, finally, they can return to Igen and rest awhile.