#THANK GOD TALA IS AWAKE NOW

[lavendersam]

The Longest Night of the Year

introduction

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10

previous

Rook awoke next to warm ashes in the fireplace, to the sounds of a new day’s work beginning on Redwheel farm.  As she blinked awake, she caught the scent of breakfast wafting from the farmhouse’s kitchen and she remembered that she had skipped dinner to go running off into the woods last night.  Her clothes were dry on the hearth next to her, and she looked furtively around before shedding the large blanket and quickly slipping into them.

She had just finished tying off her breast band when Teron walked into the room.  He gave a started “Augh!” and recoiled away from her, putting his hands up to block the sight.  “What the shit, Bridget?”

Rook sighed in exasperation.  “Oh grow up, Teron. My clothes got soaked last night.”  She pulled her shirt over her head and started doing up the laces.  “You’re welcome, by the way,” she added.

Teron looked her up and down with a horrified expression.  He let out a disgusted and disbelieving “Ugh!” before turning and stomping away.

“Wha- I meant for saving your sister, not - argh!”  Rook snorted in frustration.  Finishing up getting dressed, Rook went into the kitchen and got breakfast.  Orna served her porridge with honeycomb and toasted acorns, and let her know that Kaeli was doing fine.  Every other member of Redwheel stopped by to thank Rook or clap her on the shoulder, and it was solidly mid-morning by the time she got bundled up and walking down the road towards town.

The day was bright beneath a light grey ceiling of snowclouds across the sky.  Rook got back to the inn, and was immediately swamped by all three innkeepers, demanding to know if she was okay, what had happened last night.

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” she said.  “I fell into a snowbank, but...but I found Kaeli. Orna made me sleep at Redwheel last night.”

“Yes, Jaan told us, but -” Elias shook his head.  “Sit down, we’ll get you some food.  I think you should take the day off today.”

“But the festival -” Rook protested.

“We’ll put you to work plenty hard tomorrow, but we’ll get by without you today,” Elias said.  “And you should go home and check in with your family, I’m sure the story has reached your parents by now.”

Rook sighed and nodded.  Elias smiled, and he and Galen went back to the kitchen while Medran sat Rook down by the fire.

“So what happened?” the thin man asked, cleaning his spectacles and tilting his head at her.

Rook hesitated.  She hadn’t told Medran about what had happened on Midsummer’s Eve - hadn’t told anyone except Alyona, and even with her it took a month or two to work up the courage.  Alyona only vaguely remembered the wild story of faeries and a missing heart that Rook had told her while she was shaking off the remnants of the Rusalka’s spell.  To Rook’s surpise and relief, however, Alyona believed her.

”You said your name was Rook?” Alyona had said.  She pondered the name for a moment. “Hmm...It suits you.  I’m not sure why, but it suits you.”  She shook her head, smiling.  “Gods.  I can’t believe you made a faerie deal like that.”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Rook protested.

“Run back to the village to get help!” Alyona laughed.

Rook’s eyes widened and the words she was about to say died on her lips.  She blinked a few times.  “...Oh,” was all she said.

Alyona put a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking with laughter.  She wiped a tear from her eye and patted Rook’s cheek.  “Aw, Bridget.”  She looked up into Rook’s eyes, a bright smile across her face.  “Well, thank you.  For doing the brave and foolish thing.  I suppose it saved my life.”

Rook felt her face growing warm, and couldn’t help but smile back.  “Of course,” she said.

Alyona’s lips pursed in thought, then she smiled and said, “Close your eyes.”

Rook raised an eyebrow, but did as she was told.  She tried not to laugh when she felt the air from Alyona waving a hand in front of her face.

“You’re not peeking?”

“I’m not peeking.”

“Good.”  There was the sound of movement, and then Rook felt the lightest pressure of soft, warm lips upon hers.  It was gone in an instant, and Rook’s eyes snapped open in time to see Alyona stepping back from her, her cheeks bright pink and eyes cast shyly downwards.  She hooked some of her long hair behind an ear and glanced up at Rook.  “Well...there’s your reward for saving a fair maiden,” she said with mock seriousness.

Rook grinned like a fool, and made a showy bow.  The conversation moved on, but Rook had felt a small warmth on her lips for the rest of the day.

Despite Alyona believing her story, Rook didn’t have much hope that many others in the village would take her word for it.  But like her, Medran had a true name, and although he always seemed to have his head in a book or in the clouds, Rook knew he was a deeply insightful person.  Maybe he would know something useful?  She took a breath, and then quickly and quietly told him what had happened last night, only leaving out the fact that she had met the Nøkken before...and her encounter with woman in the red cloak.

Medran listened intently, without interrupting, and thought for a while before speaking.  “Well, that does sound serious.  Have you spoken with Tala or Taisin about this?”

“I...” Rook had approached the priestess once since Midsummer, to ask if there were any old ruins in the woods north of the village.  The older woman had immediately asked why Rook wanted to know, with a shrewd suspicion that startled Rook.  She quickly made up a not entirely untrue story of Teron leading her and Alyona into the woods to look for them, but that they didn’t find any.  This seemed to satisfy Tala, who admitted to hearing rumors of an old church from a forgotten age lost somewhere in the mountains nearby - one dedicated to the worship of something other than the gods.  She then made Rook promise never to go looking for them, and that was the end of any conversation with the priestess.  As for Taisin...the greenwitch was rarely seen in the village, even for festivals.  She lived far from everyone else, on the edge of the woods with the village huntress.  Rook preferred not to bother her.

Medran smiled.  “Dangerous faeries might their area of expertise.  You might want to tell one of them what happened.”  Just then, Galen and Elias returned with food, and Rook was left to her thoughts.

She had just finished eating when the door to the inn opened and Alyona stepped inside, her cheeks pink from the cold.  She smiled when she saw Rook and bounded over to her.

“What did you do?” she asked, grinning as she sat down beside Rook.  “The story’s all over town.  What happened?”

“I...” Rook glanced across the bar at Medran, who winked.  “...I’ll tell you the whole story, but I need to back home and check in there.  What are you up to today?”

Alyona smiled.  “Nothing I can’t put off.  I’ll walk with you.”  The two put on their coats, waved goodbye to the innkeepers, and stepped out together.  In the inn-yard outside, Crane had opened up his cart and several people were coming by to look through the odd assortment of items and trinkets he was selling.  Alyona slipped her hands around Rook’s arm as they passed by, and Rook couldn’t help blushing as they walked past what felt like half the village arm in arm.  Together, they walked up the snow-packed road out of the village and out towards Rook’s family farm.

“Have you looked at Crane’s cart yet?” Rook asked.

Alyona sniffed.  “Yes, but I didn’t find what I was looking for.”

“Oh?” Rook turned to look at her.  “What was that?”

Alyona looked up at Rook with a curious expression.  “A hairbrush.  Why?”

Rook shrugged and tried not to smile.  “Just curious,” she said.

Once they were out of the village and skirting Della’s orchards, Rook told Alyona about everything that had happened last night...everything except the woman with the burning eyes, which still baffled Rook.  She didn’t seem like one of the Fair Folk - for one, she was helpful, offering assistance freely and without price.  A mystery for another time, however, because right now Alyona was talking to her about the Nøkken. 

“What are you going to do?” she asked.  “Sleep with a horseshoe under your pillow from now on?”

“I’m not sure,” Rook said.  “I think I might talk to the priestess about it?  She might know what to do, if anything.”

“Hmm...well, even if she knows how to defend against the fae, I don’t think she can save you from snowball attacks!” 

“What?”

Alyona didn’t even bother making a snowball.  She just dipped her mittens into the snow and sent a spray of powder up into Rook’s face.

“Ack!”  Rook laughed, and tossed some snow her way as well.  Alyona hit Rook squarely with a snowball, then Rook tackled Alyona into the snow.  The two of them went down laughing.

They arrived at Splitbrook farm in the early afternoon, just in time to catch Rook’s aunt Muriel making lunch.  Alyona and Rook hung their coats up to dry, and spent a loud, bustling hour eating in the kitchen while Rook’s many brothers and cousins came through to grab a bite, say hello, and press Rook for the story of last night.  Rook didn’t say much, and wasn’t able to get many words in anyway as family members hugged her and mussed her hair and told her how much they missed her since she’s been spending so much time working at the inn.  Rook’s father made sure to tell her, “Go talk to your mother before you go again.  She’s out in the pasture, and would hate to have missed you.”  Rook promised that she would.

After lunch, Rook and Alyona went out to the barn to see their old horse Clover.  She was happy to see them, and happier to see the apple piece Rook brought out.  While she was there, Rook found a spare horseshoe and slipped it into her coat pocket.  They stopped by the edge of the pasture where Rook’s mother was cutting branches off spruce trees and visited with her a bit.

“Are ya sleeping here tonight, or are you heading back to town?” she asked, looking between Rook and Alyona.

“I should sleep at the inn tonight,” Rook said.  “They’ll need all the help they can get preparing for the festival, and I promised Galen I’d go gather chestnuts tomorrow.”

Disappointment touched her mother’s face, but she nodded.  “I understand.  I miss you though.  Farm’s not the same without you, you know?”  She gave Rook a hug.  “Take care, bug.”  She let Rook go and smiled at Alyona.  “Come back soon, though?  And feel free to bring your...friend with you.”

Alyona blushed a bit, but thanked Rook’s mother for the invitation.

By the time Rook and Alyona got back to the village, it was almost dark.  “I should get back home,” Alyona said.  “I’ll have chores to catch up on.  But...” She gave Rook a wide smile.  “I’m glad we took the day off.”

Rook smiled back.  “Here,” she said, and handed Alyona the horseshoe.  “For you to put under your pillow.”

Alyona took it, but looked up, worried.  “Are you sure you don’t need it more?”

Rook shook her head.  “I’ll go talk to Tala now.  Promise,” she said, when Alyona raised an eyebrow.  “Besides, I’d feel better knowing you had it.”

“Well, alright then.” Alyona smiled.  “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Rook said, grinning.  

The two said goodnight, and Alyona took the path up to the mill.  Rook watched her go, then turned back towards the village.  It was almost completely dark, and all of a sudden she realized that she was very hungry and very cold.  She looked longingly at the warm, bright light in the inn’s windows on the far end of the village, where Crane had already shut up his cart and smoke was rising from the chimney.  Rook sighed, and reluctantly started walking the other direction towards the village shrine.

next

[yashasmonkgf]

high priestess and the sun for kestrel, temperence in reverse and the star for ali !

oh my god you picked the most difficult ones for both of my kids thank you here we go please enjoy my uses of inconsistent tense and narrative and absolutely incredibly long run on sentences and utter abuse of italics 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕   also the star got… a little out of hand…

The High Priestess: When has trusting their instincts paid off for your character?

With the pack, it was easy, it was hunt-eat-sleep-play-survive and sometimes the food was there and sometimes it wasn’t but it was easier; easier than waiting in the shadow to pick the crumbs off the floor, easier than forcing herself to stay awake to listen for Mother coming home and to slip out the door if her steps were staggered or just wait and hold her breath if the steps were steady and hope that she would miss the black moods that came and came and came and never left, easier than fixing herself again and again with broken noses and busted lips and bruises. So it was easy. Stay with the pack. Survive. Take care of them and they take care of you. Keep away from the humans and the human moods and the human fists and boots and quick sharp words that burrowed into her like a tick and festered. So she stayed. And the first winter- well, it was winter, but they were relatively lucky, and it was nothing that a good pile of pups on either side of her wouldn’t help with, and second winter was not as good as the first and her boots had finally given up the past summer and so she almost lost some of her toes a couple times, but that was fine that was still better than before, you see, better than what she had. And then the third winter came and even before it had hit in the valleys below Kestrel was waking herself up by shivering so hard and the trouble with direwolves is they’re big, yes, even bigger than you’re picturing, so they can’t exactly pile on top of you when the cold bites and the wind snarls and your teeth chatter so hard you can’t even think so then you stumble out the cave trying to stay moving and then down the mountain you go cause it has to be warmer down there it has to be, the snow hasn’t hit yet. So down she went, and sometimes she wasn’t even sure if she was walking anymore and she didn’t know if her feet were still her feet or if they had snapped off from the cold but there was a cabin and a man in the cabin and she knew that humans came with fists and boots and words that swirled around her head and stayed and never went away but she knew she wanted to survive, she needed to, so she crashed through the door of the cabin and collapsed by the fire and the man had been lying in the bed and he just stared at her. And Kestrel waited and waited and waited for the fist or the boot or the angry words to come at her but the strange man just stood up and slowly, slowly, put another log on the fire and pulled a blanket off his bed and dropped it beside her and closed the door just enough that the wind didn’t come through quite as strong but there was still a way out if she wanted to, he didn’t lock her in and eventually, Kestrel must have stopped shivering because she woke up in the morning, warm and with warm food waiting on the floor beside her. 

The Sun: When does your character sit back and enjoy themselves?

Kestrel does, admittedly, have trouble sitting back and enjoying something. The last time she really relaxed was in the mountains. Tala had thrown her head back and howled and they had heard the pack, and Kestrel had wanted to go right then and there, but of course, they had to wait, the hafling and the teifling and the elf had to sleep and then they had to break camp in the morning and gods, they took so long to wake up and get on with the day, Kestrel was near vibrating out of her skin with excitement by the time they finally got on with everything, and her and Tala kept on darting ahead up the mountain and having to stop and wait for the others. And they finally got up there and three of the wolves had pupped and Kestrel actually felt herself wanting to smile as the clambered over each other to investigate the new thing on two legs, all paws and ears and tails, and Kestrel felt something in her relax the hold it kept and temporarily uncoil and it was like she could breath deep for once.

Temperance in Reverse: When has your character felt overwhelmed?

Ali had only lost him for a second, just a moment, in the crowded street, but her little brother was hungry, they all were, work had been thin this winter, and plagues had swept the country, and always they blamed the Travellers and had driven them away with thrown rocks and guards with spears to prod the slow along. And Ali only looked away for a second, just to look at the goods in the stall, that was all, and it wasn’t his fault, he was just a little kid, and he hadn’t had a sweet in months and months, and he only just wanted to look at the bakers sweets, but looking had become a hand reaching out to touch, but the guards were right there and they grabbed him and kicked him and kicked and kicked and kicked until his breath rattled in his chest and he coughed up blood onto one of the guards boots and she had been screaming and crying as one of them held her by her hair and she couldn’t help and it was her fault, hers, and she carried her little brother back to the caravan she felt little and lost and useless and they cried and cried and they sang the song of mourning that night and she swears she knows the sound of heartbreak now.

The Star: When has your character been most hopeful?

The first time her goddess touched her, Ali was only 14.  She had wandered off from the main camp where they had set themselves just a little ways off from the crossroads, and gods… was she bored. She had crossed to the other side of the road, and technically, if she shuffled sideways and sort of crouched, she could still see the tops of the wagons, so she wasn’t in trouble. Besides, she wasn’t a little kid anymore, she was almost grown up thank-you-very-much. And grown ups could take care of themselves. Of course, grownups also had chores and fires to build and dinners to cook and sometimes the sheer mundanity of life on the road made Ali want to scream. She shuffled another few paces into the undergrowth, worming her way through the tightly grown bushes and only tearing her shirt a teeny little bit. She swore under her breath. Her mother would make her sew that. 

“I can fix that for you if you want.”

Ali nearly levitated back into the bushes at the sound of the female voice.

“Oh, sorry, my fault, I thought you knew I was here.”

The halfling girl was young, she looked about Ali’s age, maybe a little older, with road worn clothes and dusty boots.

“Um. Hi. Are you a Traveller?”

The halfling laughed. “Sure am.”

“Sorry, not many halflings take the road.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The halfling looked her over. “Here. Let me make it up to you.”

The halfling pulled from- somewhere… a pouch? She had to have a pouch or something somewhere- a long chain with something dangling at the end of it.

“Here. But-” and she pulled it back from Ali’s waiting hand, “you have to promise me something, and its very important.”

Ali was surprised. Not many people of Dwyrain would ever consider being as open handed as this strange halfling.

The halfling pressed something round into her palm. “Promise me that you will follow where your feet and your heart take you, and that you’ll chase whatever makes your heart bigger.”

Ali stared down at the simple symbol in her palm: a perfect circle, bisected by a gently curving line across the circle and a flame hovering above the center of the center line.

Shocked, she looked back at the halfling, who grinned broadly, winked, and stood on her tip toes and planted a kiss on Ali’s forehead. As her lips touched, Ali felt something zap through her, and felt herself fill with happiness and laughter and joy and adventure and life and she felt like her heart was about to burst with the size of everything inside her and she felt like if she couldn’t see the whole wide world then what was the point of everything and the hope- the hope that she could see and explore and find every wonderful thing that was out there! It had to be out there!