Happily Ever After

[Saruna]

((Continued from: http://www.tharshaddin.com/rp/viewtopic.php?f=9&t=2100))
April 3, 122PW

"I do not care what you call your shoddy, Changer's cursed, blasted contraption, but I'll have nothing to do with peddlers who insist on some newfound and idiotic idea to visit humble homes to sell your worthless and useless items when you have no business stepping on owned and private property!"

Saruna took a deep breath, flushed at her temerity, and barked out a last, "Good day!" before slamming the door, without giving the hopeful merchant a chance to offer retort.

Derin had told her one night without inflection that she ought to work on being more forceful with the peddlers who were overburdened with brass guts. Since then, Saruna had been working on speaking her mind to one of them -- something she'd dreamed of doing since a girlhood spent watching her father chase off barkers at market. As she stood in front of the door she felt a giddy rush closely followed by guilt at the way she'd spoken to the merchant. On second thought. . .

She inched the door open and peered around its edge, just in time to see the hunched back of the peddler.

"Fancy any tea?" She asked in an appropriately humble tone, and was offended to find herself the target of badly aimed spittle. "Well, I never!" She huffed as she shut the door firmly.

She felt appropriately cleansed of her guilt, and straightened shoulders already straight from habit. She smiled, honestly and fully, and once more thanked the spirits that fate had sent her Derin. Saruna had been on the long and painful road to spinsterhood before the young woman had graced Saruna's home, and despite some unforeseen troubles that seemed to have taken care of themselves Saruna was all the better for it. Even if she had given up any real hope of ever knowing what had happened to her father, she could be at peace with it. Move on. Enjoy her second chance at a real life.

And at that thought, she moved through her combined kitchen-living room-dining room to the door at the back that opened up to her workshop that she shared with Derin. She'd found muslin done up with a pretty blue wash that she'd thought would look absolutely darling on Derin. Sure, it had cost a few bishani more than she was used to spending, but the thought of seeing Derin's face. . . oh, all worthwhile. And the girl had earned it.

[Derin Edala]

The kitchen door muffled the sounds of talking and laughter enough that the shrill bell was clearly audible. At its ring, Derin took off her apron, nodded to the other cook, and left.

The tall woman smelling faintly of cooking spices bore little resemblance to the one that had entered the village from the desert barely a month ago. Her severe braid was covered in a floral bonnet, fitted leather clothing had been replaced with bright yellow skirts, her tan had faded to the point where the calluses and minor burns on her hands were visible, and hard muscles had been softened by the inevitable layer of fat that results from working in a kitchen and never walking further than the breadth of a village. She never would have expected to become a cook, either; Derin's culinary instinct stretched far enough to keep her alive on the road. But her boss had seen the value in an employee who follows instructions well and never seems to stop or slow down, pain or fatigue be damned, so she'd been bumped out of the scullery and into the position of cook's assistant quite quickly. She didn't possess the creativity or sensitive palate necessary to become a master of the art, but in a run-of-the-mill inn the only truly necessary culinary skill was roasting or frying various things until they were crunchy.

Perhaps she could get a position as a waitress if she learned to smile more. Derin made a note to practise.

She dropped by the market on her way home. it seemed silly to draw a paycheck without spending it, so she'd gotten into the habit of putting ten per cent of her income away for emergencies and spending the rest on whatever needed buying for the house. After picking up some flour, eggs and vegetables, she paused at a flower stall that was just closing up. Derin had never seen the point of culturing non-edible plants, and buying them seemed even sillier, but she knew that Saruna liked them, and making Saruna happy could only be a good thing. She saw a flower in one shade of pink that she was pretty sure she hadn't seen in Saruna's garden. Did Saruna like pink? She liked colourful things in general, didn't she?

After some quick negotiation, Derin walked away with less money and a pink-flowered potted plant and headed for home.

Home. For how long? Maybe years, if she played her cards right. All she had to do was wait. Keep her head down, not make trouble and wait. Apart from some initial complications, she seemed to be doing that okay.

Upon entering the house and not finding Saruna inside, she took the time to put the groceries away before setting the plant carefully outside the back door and heading for the workshop.

[Saruna]

Saruna did not hear the door open and close, but she did hear Derin's footsteps. Contention filled her like a cat given a saucer of milk, and her heart swelled as she gathered up the muslin, wishing for a moment that Shim was more like Eyropa and could grow cotton in vast stretches of farmland. Nevermind that though, she pulled open the workroom door with the cloth in hand, her gentle smile the epitome of exuberance.

"I happened to find some lovely cloth at the market --" her eyes caught on the flowers, and her mouth stayed open in surprise. "Oh, oh those are lovely!"

[Derin Edala]

Derin glanced at the plant and shrugged. "It was a colour I didn't recognise from your garden, so..." She tried a smile. She'd been right; Saruna did like pink, or at least colour. It hardly mattered which.

Saruna worried Derin. Or didn',which was really what she was worried about. Derin had wiled her way into others' territory before, proven her worth as an assistant and stayed on. She knew how the game worked. Right from the start, Saruna had played fragile, hidden behind a smile and the attitude that she was simply happy to know and talk to people. A normal, accepted opening gambit when meeting a stranger... but that was a month ago, and she still hadn't dropped it. She still hadn't hinted at what she wanted, shown no desire to let Derin in on any secrets... and she never, ever slipped up. Derin was out at work most days, but still, it had to be hard to wear a mask in one's own home all the time like that. In Derin's experience, everyone let a crack show eventually, whether deliberately or accidentally. Everyone started to make deals, or show vices, or give in to the temptation to brag about their skills; everyone eventually relaxed in the presence of a loyal, helpful newcomer. Everyone except Saruna.

Her gaze caught the sight of new cloth in her hand. Derin herself had little genuine opinion of different colours, but countless nights of idly sewing with noblewomen had taught her what was considered attractive and what was not. It was a beautiful colour.

She leaned forward for a closer look and pinched the fabric beneath her fingers. "This is higher quality than you usually buy," she observed. "It's a nice cloth."

[Saruna]

The first few weeks after . . .that man. . .Saruna's cheeks had hurt from the amount of smiling she did. At times she would guiltily pretend she was Derin's actual mother; the young woman a stranger less strange than Saruna's own children. Well, so what! Saruna had overcome the lack of her own children through years of suffering, guilt and teary nights -- though it would always pinch her heart tight -- but Derin still had her own ghost to overcome. Saruna could not replace the girl's actual mother, but she could provide a fount of support and care.

Derin still did not smile easily or regularly. She tried to, and the effort broke Saruna's heart, each time. "You picked the very best color," she beamed, "and it seem we both have made conquests of the market, for I found this beauty marked down! It is for you, for keeping an old woman like me company." As lies went, it was small and harmless, but it was a necessary thing. Derin was very conscious of money, and she did not accept costly gifts -- or costly anything.

All in all, she was exactly the type of upright young woman Saruna had wanted her daughters to become, and her sons to marry. How could she not dote on Derin, who had come like the first wave of spring, cleaning out her cobwebbed soul and bursting in like sunshine. Even the recessed fear of Marn that lingered on as a canker in her mind paled next to the love that grew for Derin. She had decided a week ago that no matter what happened, no matter what government agents did, it was all worth it for this brief respite from her grey life. Even if Derin left, Saruna would be thankful for the time they had spent together.

And no matter what, she would fight for Derin any way it took. She would not let that promising young life be culled like so much chaff.

"When I saw the color, I thought of you. It lept into my arms, demanding to be bought. How could I refuse?" She laughed, and blessed every wrinkle she knew creased her face at the action. There was never much cause for laughter for any farmwife, only a great burden of work, but Derin made it seem possible. Now she must work on getting Derin to laugh, unguarded and without conscious effort. And maybe, maybe if Saruna became more social she could find Derin someone to laugh with and create new memories with. Life moved on, after all.

[Derin Edala]

Derin felt her smile grow. She was getting better at socialising, it seemed, although she had to admit to herself that that wasn't so much gaining any understanding in how the locals thought as simple trial and error. It stopped her from appearing so unfriendly in general but wouldn't be one bit of use to her in a dangerous or stressful situation, when people's responses to things tended to change dramatically. So she'd have to avoid dangerous situations.

She looked down at her skirt, covered in small stains from the kitchen that patient scrubbing had faded but would never entirely remove, and wrapped the blue cloth around her waist. It seemed that Saruna thought she needed new clothing as well, or she wouldn't have purchased the cloth. A strong hint -- there was plenty of other cloth available, to buy such a piece (even on discount) and specifically give it to her could only mean that she wanted Derin to improve her appearance.

"Thank you very much. I'll get started on a new dress immediately; a nice one for outside the kitchen."

True to her word, she walked straight into the workshop, pondering the design of her new garment.

[Saruna]

The more the idea of findinga partner for Derin got lodged into Saruna's head, the more she liked it. It was standard tradition for a woman's family (mother, in particular) to arrange for a single woman to meet some eligible single men, especially when in Derin's case she was widowed. And with no family to help her in her task of settling down and producing more children. The thought of great grandchildren hadn't (much) crossed Saruna's mind, and she couldn't help but chew her lip at the thought of babies. She did miss babies. She enjoyed the idea of babies so much that she almost missed Derin's words.

She was jerked back to reality, and stared after Derin with suspicion. "Hold on, child. You're looking so skinny, did you eat properly tonight? Food before work when you come home; I won't have you looking like some farmer's wage slave now -- here's some gruel from last night's dinner in the pot. Sit, eat!" She was firm, having learned with timidity that a few commands wouldn't chase Derin away. She enjoyed playing mother.

She would enjoy playing grandmother more. She eyed Derin speculatively.

[Derin Edala]

Derin stopped, a little taken aback by Saruna's firmness, then turned without protest to go inside the house. She wasn't aware that she'd been neglecting her energy needs, but Saruna had a lot more experience at piloting a body than she did. Maybe she'd ignored too many of its whiny pain and hunger signals.

She was rather more interested in getting to work sewing, but she did as she was told, sitting down to gruel. Proper maintenance of oneself was important, after all; she'd escaped bad situations before by taking advantage of the laziness or small oversight of others.

Derin realised that somewhere along the line, Saruna had become more forceful and she hadn't even noticed. The woman was no longer the withdrawn, timid lady who seemed afraid to say anything assertive in her presence. Was she... slipping? Was Derin finally going to get a chance to see the real Saruna, who, despite her frail appearance, had managed to hold and command a territory of her own for so long?

[Saruna]

Saruna watched Derin eat while she got her own food and ate. In her mind, she sorted through the contacts she'd made through the years. Who was good enough for Derin? Who might get along with her, understand her, take care of her? Who might she care for, and love?

As she watched Derin, she also looked at herself, inwardly and critically. Derin might get angry at her for interfering. She might walk away from Saruna, and live at the Inn. She might leave Shim entirely, chased off by a nagging old hag with nothing else to do but entertain herself with other peoples' lives. Saruna looked down at her hands. Well, so what! Hadn't Derin already proven to her that even when tragedy struck you had to keep pushing on? Look at what Saruna had been doing those long years: nothing! She hadn't even questioned her husbands death, just timidly shrinking her exposure to life until she might as well be a dead husk.

Well she wouldn't do that any more!

She stood abruptly, almost spilling her gruel to the floor. If she was going to continue to have Derin live with her, then she must act! "I have something to take care of." She said, her cheeks rosy. She put down her bowl, turned, and promptly strode out the door.

A second later she poked her head back in. "I'll be back later dear, please bank the fire for me and be sure to put the bowls in the washing bucket. Please do start on your dress without me."

And then she was off, and as with some mothers it did not occur to her to ask Derin if another husband was what she wanted.

It did not occur to her because she had a purpose, a mission! She would fulfill this duty with care and patience, and would not be turned away!

For the next few hours she went door to door, checking up on all the vendors she knew with marriageable sons. At all of those doorsteps she stammered and stuttered, pulling her shawl close to her and shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. She was stared at, given looks as if she was a crazy woman, and treated gingerly as if her brains were addled. She was asked several times if she was all right, asked to sit down a half dozen times more; but through it all she was resolute and determined. "I am quite well, thank you." She would say. "Oh no, I have been sitting long enough today, thank you."

"Yes, I really am quite serious."

Though some trips lead to uneasy conversations where she was told in a roundabout way that they were not really interested in a strange woman with unknown skills and prospects who currently worked at an inn, she did find a select few of her older contacts who had sons or -- in a few select cases -- grandsons who them were cautiously open towards making a match with. Saruna was a little strange, but trustworthy. Though the strange part was more or less communicated through awkward body language and clumsy words, but Saruna was honest enough with herself to know it was there.

She came home giddy like a girl with an apron full of spiced nuts from the man who supplied her with dyes, and who had known her husband very well. She shuffled through the door, didn't see Derin in the front area, and tiptoed back to her room after depositing the nuts in a bowl before the banked fire. It was unusually late for Saruna, but she didn't care. She was excited. She had made progress.

She went to sleep knowing that the next day would be full of good things.

[Derin Edala]

Derin noticed Saruna's sudden increase in drive and excitement, but didn't question it. The woman was finally letting her guard down, finally moving on with something; Derin made sure to keep her curiosity in check. She'd find out what was going on soon enough.

She'd cut the cloth for her new dress and began sewing the skirt by the time her eyes began to itch. She could, in theory, keep going for several hours, but only if she was willing to accept a decline in quality and the very real chance of passing out in the kitchen at work the next day. Instead, she went to bed.

And first thing in the morning, to work, although she took care to eat breakfast first in accordance with Saruna's sudden interest in eating enough food. She'd put on some fat since moving to Shim, which had to mean she was getting enough, surely? But Derin was no expert on biology.

As she waited for a load of meat to fry, she rubbed the itching scar on her thumb. It never seemed to like the heat. She hadn't expected the little needle-prick to scar; she must've been a little too nervous when bluffing that Marnian spy and stabbed herself too hard.

But that was over, now. Now, it was just her, a kitchen full of meat to fry, and a peaceful house to return to.

[KoriStronghammer]

Kori looked around the small village he was now in. He had left the city, it was to much for a person like him to handle every day. From what he had heard, the village was very different from the main city, a place where he could find some kind of peace, and lay down his hammer for good maybe.

True to his upbringing, Kori looked around the village, his mind dissecting it's defenses, both seeing how to make them better and conquer this place. He stopped himself, he was better than that now. Glancing at a building, he noticed the inn. He was very hungry and thirsty, and would like some stew and beer if they had it. He had some Bishani left from previous jobs, and after a meal, that would be his next concern, finding work.

Walking into the building, Kori looked around for a waitress or a barkeep. Not wanting to take his war-garb to the bar, or sit and eat with it, Kori hung his hammer and shield on coat pegs by the door. Walking to the bar, Kori cleared his throat and called out, "Hello? Anyone here?"

[Fayane]

Fayane walked briskly through the familiar woods, a pang of homesickness now almost familiar ran through her chest. She stopped for the barest of moments to touch a tree she had recognized before shaking her head to clear her mind. She had a job to do, this wasn't the time to look back on her previous life. Continuing through the woods Faya looked back to what her superiors had said. About a month ago Saruna Rischett was reported to be harboring a criminal. Along with Derin, who had been accused of using magic. Fayane had mentally cringed at arresting a fellow magic user (what if they sensed her shape-shifter magic?). But no matter, this was an important job, or so she'd been told. Hence why there was the elven battlemage behind her. Fayane eyed the man up nervously. She had been told he was most effective for the job as he could sense magic traps and such within his presence... but so far he hasn'r been able to sense her shifter magic.

"We going to stop for a picnic now, woman? Or can we move along? I don't have all day you know." The elf growled, the dark rings under his eyes intensifying his angry look. Fayane glared up at Melagone and spun on her heel, her dark cloak billowing out behind her. She walked quickly down the path, darkly satisfied when she heard the elf mumble something in his own language and worked to keep up with her.

"We're almost there." Fayane called back to the disgruntled Necromancer Battlemage when she saw the villiage come into view. Not ten minutes later they were moving between the little houses as Fayane led the elf to where her superiors had told her Saruna lived. Switching into her assassin's state of mind so as to not give away any form of emotion, Fayane raised her gloved hand and knocked briskly.

[Saruna]

It was early for visitors. The sort of early that tended to get chased out by Saruna's newfound taste for haranguing those unwary bishani-thieves who dared trespass at her door. So when she went to the door and pulled it open, maybe she looked just a bit upside the cheerful spectrum.

That changed as soon as she saw who stood outside her doorway. Her face froze, and settled into decidedly worried lines. She shut down, demeanor defensive and unwelcoming. Fear slammed into her gut. Hadn't that mess been taken care of? Why would guards be at her door? Had something happened to Derin? Wasn't it done with? Why now? Why at all? Derin. If something had happened to her at work Saruna would. . .would. . .

Her fingers tightened their grip on the door. "I don't want any trouble." She blurted out, before any thought of greeting could cross her mind. This was a battle now, one of those affairs where a single misstep could carry drastic consequences. She would do all she could to hold the fort. Stay out late. She thought, as if by force she could cause her thoughts to take wing to Derin's ear.

[Derin Edala]

Derin frowned and peeked through the door into the main bar when she heard the newcomer shout. There were rarely any customers this early except for a couple of regulars who lived upstairs, but the waitress should still be in. Derin vaguely recalled her raving about a party the previous day. She was probably hung over or something.

She glanced at the main cook, who shrugged. Derin put down her ladle and headed into the main bar. The man wasn't one of the regulars; Derin worked out back and even she could tell that much. He smelled of the city and stood around like somebody in an unfamiliar place. Derin's eyes took in the arms hung by the door before focusing on the newcomer's face.

"Sorry about the lack of service, sir; our serving girl appears not to be here yet. How may I help you?"

[KoriStronghammer]

Kori shrugged at the woman. "These things happen. It's fine." Shuffling his feet uncomfortably for a moment, he thought about her request. Kori was extremely uncomfortable dealing with people, especially female people. Looking up, he looked at her again. There was something about the way she moved, the way she held herself. It made him think of danger, of the small but deadly predators of his homelands. Shaking his head, he placed that idea in what he considered his delusional paranoia box.

Kori suddenly felt very naked without his shield and hammer. All he had on his person was his knife, and while proficient with it, he didn't like using it. He doubted anything would happen to him in this small town, but it never hurt to be careful. All of the sudden, he was quite glad his amulet was fully charged for strength.

Taking a breath, he calmly began talking. "I'll take a bowl of stew if you got it, mead or beer would be nice to, if you have it as well."