Post by PeroxidePirate on Sept 2, 2010 22:12:11 GMT 10
Title: Limited
Rating: PG
Prompt: 28. Wanderer broken down before the wind
Summary: Sometimes you need reassurance; sometimes you're lucky enough to have good friends.
“I didn't think you'd wake up.” Polyam hefted herself back into the wagon. “Get back in bed, naliz. There's room for a pallet on the floor – just don't step on me when you get up.”
“It's your bed,” Daja followed her, leaving the door open to catch the evening breeze. She couldn't help glancing at the other woman's artificial leg. “I'll sleep on the floor.”
“You're my guest. And you're practically a mimander. I'm just a crippled wirok.”
Daja gripped her friend's arm. “You know I don't care about any of that.”
“I refuse to let you sleep on the floor.”
The obvious solution struck Daja like a hammer, and she felt her cheeks flush. She froze, looking past Polyam, at the mountains in the distance. The words were on her tongue, but she hesitated, wondering if she wanted – if she dared –
The wind came from the north, she suddenly realized. It should have come from the west – it nearly always came from the west, especially this time of year. Unless there was a really good reason for it to come from somewhere else.
“Give me a minute, please,” Daja said, in Trader-talk, using the formal form of address. She exited the wagon, stopping to sit on the step outside the door.
She poked, tentatively, at her magical tie to Tris.
It flared to life, instantly. I'm sorry, Tris said, hot with some combination of intense, unpleasant emotions. I only wanted to make sure you were all right, after that working. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, so don't worry about me. Go back to-
Tris, Daja interrupted. You're upset. Is it about... this? Or about something else?
No. Yes. I don't know.
You don't know? Daja asked flatly.
I really don't, all right? Tris would have been glaring at Daja, if she'd been able to see her. And why do you care, anyway?
You're my sister. I need- Daja stopped, trying to sort through the tangle of her own emotions, and Tris's. I need us to trust each other, she finally finished.
You need something from me? That thought was bitter with disbelief.
Yes, Daja answered, fiercely. Why wouldn't I?
There was a hurt shrug from Tris. Briar and Sandry don't.
Daja settled more comfortably onto the step, tucking her own confusion and impatience into the back corner of her mind. Why do you say that?
Tris explained the other conversation she'd overheard, finishing – defensively – with, And I know it's daft to be so upset about it! But I already lost one family, she added shakily, and if I lose another...
She was crying, Daja realized. You won't lose us. Tris, as long as we're alive, you'll never lose us. Promise.
Tris rubbed at her eyes, plainly embarrassed, but she was starting to calm down. Good.
That part was easy; Daja chose her next words carefully. I don't think being apart will ever make us need each other any less. And even if they didn't need you, I still would.
You would?
Yes. Daja was starting to wonder how many times she'd have to offer reassurance. And even if I didn't need you, I would still want to be your saati.
What if you go with the caravan?
We'll have this kind of long-distance, mental conversation every so often. But happier, I hope. Daja gave Tris a mental nudge. You naliz. You haven't talked to Sandry and Briar yet, have you?
It was clear enough, Tris grumbled. They're going. I can't travel that far – and I'm not sure I'd want to anyway.
So go talk it over with them.
Fine. If it'll make you happy.
Good. After one more nudge, Daja broke their connection.
Now what? she asked herself.
The wind shifted, coming in from the west. Daja stood up and let herself back into the wagon.
Rating: PG
Prompt: 28. Wanderer broken down before the wind
Summary: Sometimes you need reassurance; sometimes you're lucky enough to have good friends.
“I didn't think you'd wake up.” Polyam hefted herself back into the wagon. “Get back in bed, naliz. There's room for a pallet on the floor – just don't step on me when you get up.”
“It's your bed,” Daja followed her, leaving the door open to catch the evening breeze. She couldn't help glancing at the other woman's artificial leg. “I'll sleep on the floor.”
“You're my guest. And you're practically a mimander. I'm just a crippled wirok.”
Daja gripped her friend's arm. “You know I don't care about any of that.”
“I refuse to let you sleep on the floor.”
The obvious solution struck Daja like a hammer, and she felt her cheeks flush. She froze, looking past Polyam, at the mountains in the distance. The words were on her tongue, but she hesitated, wondering if she wanted – if she dared –
The wind came from the north, she suddenly realized. It should have come from the west – it nearly always came from the west, especially this time of year. Unless there was a really good reason for it to come from somewhere else.
“Give me a minute, please,” Daja said, in Trader-talk, using the formal form of address. She exited the wagon, stopping to sit on the step outside the door.
She poked, tentatively, at her magical tie to Tris.
It flared to life, instantly. I'm sorry, Tris said, hot with some combination of intense, unpleasant emotions. I only wanted to make sure you were all right, after that working. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, so don't worry about me. Go back to-
Tris, Daja interrupted. You're upset. Is it about... this? Or about something else?
No. Yes. I don't know.
You don't know? Daja asked flatly.
I really don't, all right? Tris would have been glaring at Daja, if she'd been able to see her. And why do you care, anyway?
You're my sister. I need- Daja stopped, trying to sort through the tangle of her own emotions, and Tris's. I need us to trust each other, she finally finished.
You need something from me? That thought was bitter with disbelief.
Yes, Daja answered, fiercely. Why wouldn't I?
There was a hurt shrug from Tris. Briar and Sandry don't.
Daja settled more comfortably onto the step, tucking her own confusion and impatience into the back corner of her mind. Why do you say that?
Tris explained the other conversation she'd overheard, finishing – defensively – with, And I know it's daft to be so upset about it! But I already lost one family, she added shakily, and if I lose another...
She was crying, Daja realized. You won't lose us. Tris, as long as we're alive, you'll never lose us. Promise.
Tris rubbed at her eyes, plainly embarrassed, but she was starting to calm down. Good.
That part was easy; Daja chose her next words carefully. I don't think being apart will ever make us need each other any less. And even if they didn't need you, I still would.
You would?
Yes. Daja was starting to wonder how many times she'd have to offer reassurance. And even if I didn't need you, I would still want to be your saati.
What if you go with the caravan?
We'll have this kind of long-distance, mental conversation every so often. But happier, I hope. Daja gave Tris a mental nudge. You naliz. You haven't talked to Sandry and Briar yet, have you?
It was clear enough, Tris grumbled. They're going. I can't travel that far – and I'm not sure I'd want to anyway.
So go talk it over with them.
Fine. If it'll make you happy.
Good. After one more nudge, Daja broke their connection.
Now what? she asked herself.
The wind shifted, coming in from the west. Daja stood up and let herself back into the wagon.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!