Peace and Quiet

JP with Cindy and White_Caribou

Islana could hear the sounds of the marketplace but didn't dare look up. All the noise reminded her, a little, of Ostiarium. Yet, it was also enough of a difference that the memories were actually minor this time, a welcome break for her emotions.

The more her slave training was coming back to the redhead, the more it was beginning to become almost second nature. This was just from the years of it.

So, it began that things slaves would know to do after being trained, Islana started to do without being told. When she bowed to the man, it was lower than Shalia's bow.

She didn't sit once the man left, instead stayed standing. The bow to the old woman was of equal height.

It didn't even take a moment after receiving the tray and the old woman left, that she looked to see Shalia hadn't sat down, yet. Upon that knowledge, Islana looked at the dark haired woman

"Where would you like me to put the tray?"

Then it was to just wait for instructions. Just a combination of things that gave insight to her past, if it was paid attention to.

Shalia had been distracted by the room's decor after the old woman left and the door closed that Islana's words brought her back to attention. She hadn't seen textiles like this in some time either, so clean, neatly placed, and beautifully patterned. The hanging lanterns were so elegant and cozy, even unlit. Her jarring excitement from witnessing Armat thus far had lifted her mood and she couldn't hold back a short-lived smile. This room felt peaceful.

"The table," she said softly, walking over and seating herself on the bench. Shalia, having grabbed her coat and pack off the horse before entering the fort on foot, set her belongings on the space beside her. The woman's hands lightly patted the wooden surface to direct Islana and she set the tray down.

"Eat...whatever this is... if you're hungry. It smells promising." She held the stone spoon in hand as she stirred the dark stew and inhaled the pungent aroma. Two slices of what seemed to be some kind of bread sat beside the bowl. A second smaller one sat opposite intended for Islana with a single piece beside it and her own water.

How she missed all the baked goods in Helias. The meat and vegetable pies, the Spring honey pastries her mother delicately made from scratch, the cinnamon-apple fritters Jiyn went crazy over...all wonderous thoughts that came back to her more vividly than ever.

Her body relaxed suddenly upon escaping the scorching sun and her stomach growled intensely. If this food looked tasty, the feast later must be increasingly delectable. A feast in her honor... she salivated at the thought of both. Taking a generous drink of water from the wooden cup, she exhaled loudly after swallowing. How she longed to collapse onto one of the pretty pillows and sleep unbothered...

Islana was basically carrying the tray one handed but used her arm in the sling to help stabilize the tray. The young woman placed the tray on the table in front of Shalia.

When offered to sit and eat, the redhead took a seat. The aroma from the food hit her nostrils and moved down towards her stomach. It had been days since she had eaten much of substance and it was clear that was becoming no longer an option.

"Thank you," Islana spoke quietly.

Shalia could have done many things in this instance, the fact that she was allowing Islana to sit and eat with her, was what the gratitude was for.

Water was sipped, small pieces of bread eaten, and the stew went down slowly. Still, Islana was finally eating something more than picking at it and her stomach wasn't protesting, that much.

Thoughts of time around the campfire and Alexis's stew came to her. Islana knew how to cook over a fire but Alexis was definitely better at it. The huntress knew she needed to get out of her own memories for the moment so her thoughts were turned back to the present.

"Thank you for allowing me to stay in here."

It was clear Islana knew Shaila didn't have to do that. Of course, given all the redhead didn't know about this culture if she had been thrown out on her own it might have been problematic.

Shalia had been scooping spoonfuls of the stew into her mouth as Islana spoke. This meal was already more flavorful that what she was used to back home in the village. Who knew what herbs and seasoning they could grow out here? What was in the stew tasted fantastic, but perhaps it was just how hungry and tired she was making it seem all the better.

She stopped herself to speak, letting the food settle. It was nice to see Islana eating. Really, it was nice to see her in a less stressful and threatening environment. They both needed this rest. Needed to ease the tension.

"Of course. I did not like how he spoke in reference to you."

Suitable dwellings for her kind. The only kind she was was a witch and any witch not actively trying to kill Shalia was close enough to her own kin. But she did seem kind-spirited, and weirdly natural to the situation. Her obedience was firm even when Shalia was cold and demanding where others would cry and plead, as if knowing how to navigate this landslide. Meanwhile, Shalia was still cluelessly in charge. Sitting at the table together was definitely not part of the slaver etiquette, nor was the new attachment she felt toward the younger witch.

Safety was not easy to come by. This was the least she could do, offer a grace period from the chaos that already seemed to engulf Islana during her time in Fang. Before whatever came next.

"I can't trust you in their hands. Away from me. Though I understand you might have wanted some alone time. I did too, but I will be gone in the evening for a feast, so you can have some space to breathe then." Shalia slowly reached across the table to pull the shawl away revealing her red locks further, draping it over her pack. "You can be yourself in here, pretty one." She flicked her eyes up to match Islana's but they shifted momentarily to the little silver necklace. Dainty and sweet compared to the metal collar of the old woman.

"Could you tell me about your necklace?" She blurted suddenly.

Islana didn't need or want to know how the man had spoken of her she could imagine; there was no reason to ask.

The stew did taste good but the young woman knew enough to continue to eat it slow. This place seemed more relaxed, for Islana the men that had been with them the entire trip were outside and that played into it.

There was navigation still being done on Islana's end. It was exciting to meet a witch she could talk to but Shalia still owned her. It was just a matter of figuring it all out.

When the shawl was pulled away there was a sense of a slight bit of freedom that went with Shaila's words. The fears of the other woman being unnecessarily cruel towards her seemed to be unfounded, but Islana was still coming to terms with that realization.

Talk of the necklace seemed to come out of nowhere, and as if on instinct, there was a reach towards the silver bird as soon as it was spoken of.

A slight hesitation, but then a nod came. Islana had trusted few people with her past but still the questions should be answered.

"It was my mother's. She died in childbirth with me. My father gave it to me on my sixth birthday."

There was something in the tone of the words. A sense of longing beyond the usual memories of childhood.

Shalia let the words sink in for a moment. She watched a delicate hand make contact with the necklace and heard the tenderness of her voice. Perhaps this was indeed a collar of her own, shackling her to something, binding her to it.
She had one as well, but not nearly as pleasing to the eye.

As Islana's mannerisms were recognized, she realized her innocent question had inched too far too fast. This one seemed to have many reservations, understandably, and that peaked Shalia's curiosity. Like studying a rare beast in the wild.

"That's very unfortunate to hear." She leaned forward to get a better view of it. A tiny silver bird. "Huh, should I be calling you 'little bird' instead then, little lamb?" She said with a playful smile to try and soften the heaviness in Islana's gaze, taking another gulp of the water after. It was clear that Shalia's behavior had now completely shifted since entering the fort, like a new person from the one Islana first met.

For years the silver bird had stood as Islana's only connection to the mother she never met. However, it had started to become clearer that her connection to her mother likely went far deeper than that.

It was still the one thing the redhead had from childhood. Her link to her family. It might have been heavier than any steel collar, in ways, to have the reminder always with her but it was also a link that was needed, it was tied to her heart.

Shalia's tone and behavior had changed, she seemed to be more relaxed and the comment of calling her "Little Bird" made Islana's expression soften.

"Maybe," That response even surprised Islana as it was a tone lighter than had been her usual throughout the trip.

"I'm sorry. I know that could not have been the reaction you expected when you asked about my necklace."

Islana wished for a past that didn't give her such a reaction but it wasn't to be.

The redhead rubbed her injured arm, sipped some water and sat back a little.