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 Posted: Tue Mar 18, 2008 5:21 pm
The last bitter winter winds howled at the windows, rattling the pane glass and slipping insidiously through tiny unseen cracks. The room whistled faintly - a mournful keening noise that woke Onora. She levered herself up onto her elbows and peered bleary eyed across the room.
In the few months since she and Morris had arrived, they'd managed to make themselves comfortable in the rooms they'd been loaned in the headquarters of the Fa'e. If she listened, Onora thought she could hear Morris snoring on the other side of the wall behind her. Life on gaia was strange, uneasy, not unpleasant but decidedly lonely. And now, swimming in the heavy blankets she'd been given for the winter, Onora was beginning to feel sick.
Sitting up, she ran her hands over her face - felt clammy, bone-weary. Her legs felt uncertain under the blankets. Onora took a moment to shove the blankets off and then slipped off the edge of the bed. Shuffling into a fuzzy thing called a bathrobe, Onora made a miserable bee-line for the door and clomped out into the hallway. She fully intended to find herself something warm to drink (a cup of tea? she thought - they had no lisaah on Gaia) and then return to bed. Maybe sleep for another few hours. She scrubbed a hand through her hair and felt at the tangles distastefully. Oh well - she'd just slip down and retreat right back upstairs. Hopefully she wouldn't run into anyone in the process.
She'd learned to navigate the interior of the headquarters well and, gray-faced and wan, Onora quietly made her way down to the kitchen with her arms wrapped around her middle. The chill of morning had settled into the floorboards - crept up into her bare feet as she padded along.
Something's wrong, she thought wearily. She's always prided herself on her health - 'Never been sick a day in here life,' Morris would tell the young healer and witch women who came through the household each spring and fall. And now...
Onora hunched her shoulders miserably as she tottered into the kitchen.
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Posted: Wed Mar 19, 2008 4:36 pm
Shai paused, mid sip, as a shadow graced the edge of his vision. From where he was seated by the low glow of the fireplace, Onora seemed more wraith than woman...he had a brief impression of mussed hair and a drawn face before the apparition vanished into the kitchen.
Lowering his mug back to its little saucer by the fire, Shai pushed to one knee and up to his feet. It was still a bit dark out, but not nearly dark enough for ghosts! As he crossed the main room of the headquarters, the shards of the Tzohar shook out into a loose, hanging arc behind him...gold twisted leashes clinking quietly as they brushed.
His glow proceeded him, warming the kitchen as he paused in the doorway. "Not a ghost?" The question was asked lightly, accented and curious, but with no fear. The girl seemed substantial enough, despite her wan appearance!
Of course, his appearance was far from usual, as well. Instead of his usual, iridescent robes, Shai had worn his new brown coat...long and formfitting, but he hadn't quite gotten it tugged correctly under the bonds at his waist. One tail of the jacket was trapped between two of the gold laced belts, and the other tail was rumpled in response. He usually counted on Aki to notice such things!
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Posted: Wed Mar 19, 2008 7:39 pm
Ping, ping, ping. She drummed her fingers on the edge of the metal kettle, the sound shifting and warping as it filled with water. 'Water from a pipe... she marveled absently, not for the first time; maybe not even for the last. Morris had spent two hours hitting buttons on the television, flushing the toilets, flicking light switches. Onora turned the faucet and the water trickled off.
Turning away from the sink she froze, clutching the kettle's swollen-belly shape with both hands. Startled, Onora rose to the full of her height, bright eyes flashing. More woman than girl - maybe. Sometimes. There was a moment when it looked like the might through the kettle at the sudden appearance but it softened, slipped away.
She'd gotten accustomed, if not used to, sudden visits from strangers.
"Of course I'm not a ghost," she snapped, a marginal bite of irritability under an otherwise paper-thin retort. She eyed the boy warily and made no move toward the stove top. "Who are you?"
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Posted: Thu Mar 20, 2008 7:13 am
Shai was surprised only that he had startled her...he couldn't recall sneaking up on someone before! His luminescent shards fanned unconsciously, lighting the early gloom between them. "I am Shai Adi. Also, not a ghost."
His smile was bright against his dark skin, but he feared the slight humor might have been lost in translation. Settling onto one of the stools at the counter, Shai tilted his head at the kettle she was clutching. "For tea, yes? Not throwing?" There was no teasing in his voice...the young Fa'e seemed to be asking a genuine question. He picked absently at the cuff of his jacket as he spoke, trying to urge the cloth the rest of the way under the metalworked bracelet at his wrist.
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Posted: Thu Mar 20, 2008 6:44 pm
Onora watched him as he came further into the kitchen and sat down. She lifted the kettle in his hands, feeling the heft of it. "That's right." She eyed him sideways, his glowing bits of stone or glass. They made her think of childhood stories, of Brogan Lauch who fought the gods and was chained to the stars. It had been a long time since she'd thought of Lauch, of the Roruelian gods - the kings of her uncles and aunts. Onora pursed her lips and set the kettle on the stove, cranking the burner to high. Shuffling slightly to one side, she leaned against the counter there.
Quietly she began to comb her fingers through her hair, drawing it over her shoulder and tugging at the knots and tangles that had happened in the night. She should have braided it, she thought sourly. It was getting too long and too heavy. She thought about cutting it off, hacked short in the way of the nomad women who, like their men, rode on horses heavy-laden with water sacks and the riches of sultans.
"I'm Onora Morrison," she said, late. "Morris is-- uh." She faltered. It apparently wasn't custom to explain the names of fathers in Gaia. She finished, lamely, because she'd already started. "--Upstairs."
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Posted: Fri Mar 21, 2008 10:00 am
Shai nodded in absent confirmation, shoulders setting back a bit with that odd comfort that came with simple understandings. There had been so many things to learn, in the first few weeks...sometimes he wondered if he had it all straight.
As she played with her hair, the shards rose higher, as though to mirror his own curiosity. They formed a loose corona behind his head, and added the slightest touch of color to the woman's face. "Onora." Shai spoke her name with a quiet breath, committing it to memory. For some reason, his accent did not flavor the sounds...it fit his tongue well, and pleased him to say. He repeated it as his light filled eyes cast briefly upwards, towards her mention of upstairs.
"Onora." With one hand, he reached into the breast of his jacket, looking puzzled for a moment to find it empty. This garment had different pockets than his robe, he recalled, and he patted a different pocket closer to his side. Here, he found what he was searching for...a sturdy, well polished comb of fine grained wood, thickly hand carved.
"From my home." His voice was rich with the accent of the old tongue, and a reverence that seemed to focus more on the instrument than the land he'd left behind. Aside from his robes, and a simple woven bracelet, it was the only item he'd brought. Shai slipped from the stool and offered it to her with one hand, without taking a step to help close the distance between them. "If you wish...to use?...I am good at tea."
Not quite what he wanted to say, but with any luck, she would forgive his awkward words. In truth, the girl looked a bit drawn...perhaps an excuse to sit would suit her.
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Posted: Fri Mar 21, 2008 4:33 pm
Her fingers faltered, half-tangled in the violent red of her hair as he took the comb out of his pocket and offered it toward her. From his home.
"You're not from Gaia either," she said. It wasn't a question, wasn't something that needed confirmation. Maybe the accent should have given it away, the awkward phrasing, but Onora had met many foreigners - peddlers and travelers, the long string of military men and their wives who had once come in on a cloud of dust and disappeared in much the same way. Accents didn't mean off-world.
Onora glanced sideways toward the tea kettle and then, shrugging, she closed the space between them and took the comb from him. She turned it over in her hands, fingertips tracing the swirls of carving tenderly.
From his home. Onora wouldn't have lent anything from her home to someone. She thought of her old clothes folded in a bottom drawer and the silver-backed fish turning gently in its glass bowl - longed briefly for something more and then chided herself for being silly. She flipped the comb over and attacked her hair with it, starting at the flyaway ends and working slowly up.
"Thank you," she said quite clearly, despite her head bowed to the work. "You can take the tea if you like."
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Posted: Sat Mar 22, 2008 6:20 pm
Shai shook his head, comb still outstretched. "Not..from here. No." His smile returned as she accepted it, and he glanced briefly out the window, to the gardens beyond. "Here is better. Better here for you, too?" He inquired about her home gently. As he'd learned from Aki, many people did not wish to discuss their past.
As Onora worked at the tangles, Shai tended to his own hair...pulling what he could back into a ponytail and securing it with a band. When he'd arrived, it had been too short to wear back...as it was, it made for a rather short fluff of a tail. Once it was out of his face, the young Fa'e opened the cupboards overhead to rifle for the tea box.
Her words of gratitude made him smile, and Shai twisted to share that smile over his shoulder for a moment as he shuffled things about in the cupboard. "You are welcome, Onora."
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Posted: Sat Mar 22, 2008 7:09 pm
The comb's wooden tines sang as she pulled it through her hair, a middling 'twang' as Onora dragged it through the knots and tangles unflinchingly. After a few tugs she migrated to the stool Shai had occupied a moment earlier. She clambered up onto it, hooking her bare heels on the cross bar. She frowned.
"Here is..." Lonely was the word that she didn't want to use. "Quiet," was the one she used instead.
Maybe it was the worn out feeling in her body or the strange homeliness in sitting and combing her hair, drawn up in the smell of tea that someone else was making, but she felt suddenly heartsick - homesick. Watching her hair thread through the teeth of the comb, flow like water or something like it, Onora spoke absently. "At this time, it's spring at home. My uncles will be out with their hunting dogs. My aunt will have a little baby now and Lord Alek will be teaching it how to sing to the birds."
"Here it's just Morris," she finished lamely, felt immediately bad for it. Morris was plenty, she told herself.
Onora put the comb down. "Excuse me - I shouldn't prattle."
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Posted: Sun Mar 23, 2008 7:18 am
By the time she'd stopped speaking, Shai had turned...weight resting back on both hands on the countertop. The cupboard stood open behind him, cluttered items lit eerily by the crowded Tzohar. The silence stretched for a moment as he waited, hoping she'd continue.
"Prattle?" The question was reflex, as it was with any new word he encountered. The definition wasn't his true interest, though...he had been captivated by her brief recollections of home, and very much wished for her to continue. It just wasn't in his nature to ask.
"We had...no spring. Few birds, fewer babies. Your home..." He picked his words carefully, spoke slowly, trying to express himself without stumbling. "...sounds loved." His smile was not regretful. The fact that Onora's home was still in grace was a beautiful thing...but the unspoken question was clear.
If her home was as blessed as it sounded, why had she left?
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Posted: Sun Mar 23, 2008 7:19 pm
Onora looked at him sideways as he spoke. Her fingers twist the end of her hair into a thick braid - one which promptly began to unravel the moment she took her hands away. Keeping it up wasn't her intention though - simply something to do with her hands.
Loved. She had thought so. Still did, some nights when it was cold and her toes curled under the blankets, when her breath steamed and she longed for a fireplace or a pack of dogs to keep her company. Strange, how a person can wish to be left alone for years and the moment they find themselves in the quiet halls of strangers they long for family. Onora smiled stiffly at the thought.
The untendered question hung in the air between them, catching and snagging. Onora hesitated. Changed tack - albeit subtly enough that perhaps he'd either forget or just think her stupid. "No birds?" she asked. "My, what a strange place you live in. We have birds of all sorts, though my uncle Alret's flock chases most of the wild ones away." Onora shook her head, murming. "How odd."
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Posted: Mon Mar 24, 2008 8:54 am
If Shai noticed the gentle evasion, it certainly didn't seem to bother him. "Odd." He repeated with a little nod, and turned to keep rummaging. "Few birds, but many fish. All kinds!" Opening the little tea box carefully, he packed some of the loose leaf into the metal tea ball carefully...snapping it shut and adding it to the bag already dangling from Onora's mug.
The kettle whistled softly, and Shai topped the mug off with a steady hand...turning to deliver it to the countertop nearest Onora to sit and steep. "Tea, Onora." His voice wasn't commanding, he announced the tea with a soft and inviting tone. Settling two stools down, leaving her some personal space, Shai reached to scoot the little honey pot closer.
"Do you know the catching of fish? Perhaps we could walk, someday, to the river!"
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Posted: Wed Mar 26, 2008 1:05 pm
Pulling the mug close to her with a soft rasp of ceramic on the counter top, Onora held her hands over the steam rising in curls from the surface of the tea. She rubbed her fingertips together absently, peering sightlessly into the contents of the cup. "Thank you," she murmured, taking the string of the teabag and dragging it along the rim of the mug.
The mention of fish brought a smile to her face. "There was a stream in the woods near my uncle's house," she said. "Morris and his brothers sometimes went fishing or swimming." Onora looked at him as she peeled the tea bag out of her mug, twisting the string around it and wringing it out. "I actually have a fish from it. With me." One of the few things she had brought with her, swimming panic and terrified in a water-filled perfume jar. "Just a river minnow."
"I'm no good at fishing though," she finished lamely, reaching for the honey pot and stirring an almost ridiculous amount into the mug. Apparently she liked her tea sweet. "But I'd like that - walking to the river."
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Posted: Thu Mar 27, 2008 11:46 pm
His smile returned as soon as her stories did, and Shai watched her spoon the honey with a light crinkled gaze. "Brought only one fish?" His tone was still light, but Shai's face grew a bit more serious. "Perhaps...when we walk..." Speaking slowly, recalling the correct words, Shai caught her eyes for a moment. "...we may catch another. It is a hard thing...alone in newness."
He smoothed his thumb over the tines of the comb idly, much in the way Onora had when she handled it. Shai's burden was an old one, a comfortable one, and did not darken his tone. "Why did Ono-...why did you leave?"
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Posted: Fri Mar 28, 2008 6:20 pm
Onora looked at her hands, at her tea. "Maybe," she said. She took a sip of the tea, scalding, and swore under her breath, in that moment wild and paper-thin, unaware of the spindled fawn-like appearance of her grip on the cup or the way she sat perched on the edge of the stool. Unaware, perhaps, of the sickly fragility in her appearance despite her straight back and the confidant set of her mouth. Illness could sneak up on a girl.
She lapsed into silence as he spoke, swallowing down tea and the weight of being new; being alone and scared and not understanding. Onora turned the mug in her hands, the handle of the ceramic cup twisting around. She licked her lips and raised her face to him, answering his question with a hard steely glint in her tone of voice.
"Something wasn't...right. There was a witchqueen in Laerke - the country that borders mine." Onora spread her hands uselessly. "She wanted something from me. There was a boy spy dressed in the bones of birds, enchanted. My uncle's birds killed him."
She raised a hand and brushed hair behind her ear, fingering her jawline uneasily. "After that something came into the forest, sent by the Laerkite queen maybe." Maybe not. "So Morris and I ran away." To protect the home, Onora thought fiercely, though could only wonder if that was true. Maybe her aunt and uncles, her little baby cousin growing in the womb - maybe they were all dead, torn to pieces by a glowering woman's anger at losing something sent by the gods.
Onora tugged at the hems of her long sleeves, tracing jittery fingers across her elbows through the fabric. Not god-sent, she thought as she traced the old skin-deep spirals hidden under the cloth. Just misplaced, off world. Maybe she'd never belonged there either.
She snatched her cup up and took a long drink of the tea, swirling the contents of the cup in an attempt to keep the honey from congealing at the bottom. "Why did you leave?"
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