Little Bird

JP with Cindy and White_Caribou

Shalia began unbuckling the shoulder guard while listening to Islana. As she worked the leather straps carefully around the sunburn, her smile slowly faded away.

"It was greater than I expected. I learned more about you than I thought I would--not a bad thing either. But know not everything I ask needs an answer then and there."

She set the armor quickly down beside the rest of her belongings, wincing when touching the metal that had sat for hours in the sun. Only now it had begun to cool down with her touch, but a firm reminder nonetheless. After, her hands raised to pull forth her braid which was quite messy by now and she undid it promptly, pulling the thick red ribbon from her black locks. Nudging aside her meal for the moment, Shalia flattened it out on the table in front of her so Islana could see.

"Only fair you learn about me in equal parts. My necklace is just the allied Odonine banner," she nodded her head to the wooden pendant, "but this was my mother's. She always wore it so beautifully." Looking down at the ribbon, Shalia was filled with more bittersweet recollection of the past. Biting as it was to think about again, it was also one of the few things she could speak so passionately about beyond music, pottery, or magik. Her voice grew more expressive as she continued letting vulnerability through. The trust of two witches.

"Look at the embroidery here! So delicate and tedious. I remember her working tirelessly on this for days. It had to be perfect." Her thumb gently traced over the yellow threads of its intricate border. The clear image of her mother's long, straw-blonde hair in a braid pinned seamlessly around her head came forth, the ribbon woven through it like a snake with no end or beginning. And yet, her face was a blur.

Shalia was forgetting what Liang and Freya looked like.

Upon realizing, her brow furrowed sharply to withhold tears. The air around them was met with a sudden chill.
"I never could wear it like she did."

Being told that not every question needed an immediate answer surprised the young woman. Islana already knew she had been afforded liberties most slaves weren't allowed that was one more.

Of course, Shalia could just be luring her into a false sense of security but something kept saying that wasn't the case.

The words she's not him kept playing over and over in Islana's mind. Shalia wasn't Lord Vasant. Actually, for being a similar relationship, in name, it was far different than one experienced in the past.

A sympathetic wince at the site of Shalia's sunburn came. If the area was full of woods and it was her ability to, the huntress likely could have found something to help with that but as it was there was nothing to be done.

Instead of mentioning remedies that wouldn't help, her green eyes simply watched the dark braid be undone and the ribbon placed on the table.

The vulnerability was recognized, the sharing of something between them that Islana hadn't felt very much in her life but it was there. Seemingly impossible to ignore.

The ribbon was an amazing work of artsy. The redhead's voice spoke softly and truthfully.

"It's beautiful."

There was a shift in the air, the cold meeting the heat of the desert. Islana didn't say anything about the emotions so clearly coming from Shalia but, uncharacteristically, reached out gently touched the other woman's arm. Braving the cold for a moment of kindness.

Islana hadn't realized what had happened until her hand reached Shalia's arm. It wasn't unlike the young huntress to want to help but touching someone she barely knew in order to do so was far removed from what usually happened.

It was also a huge mistake in slave etiquette. Not knowing what came over her and realizing the mistake. Islana retreated her hand slowly. Not sure what any of this would be met with.

The hand on her arm shocked Shalia out of her thoughts but she kept her eyes on the ribbon, trying to process the feelings that flooded in after.

Islana had willingly touched her in an act of benevolence. Not the welcoming hand of the seneschal. Not Koshnem's congratulating shake of the shoulder. The soft hand of a woman dragged away from her old life.
But the redhead was now one of two people who knew that deep sentiment of Shalia's, the other being far off in the world. What a strange thing that was in the presence of the powerful witch who, as the War Chieftain presented her, knew 'no kindness and no mercy'. How bizarre to reflect on after the tenderness and wistful words transpiring here. Though Islana was magikally-gifted, Shalia silently labored away in wondering exactly why it had been so easy for her to be disarmed when they were alone and eye to eye.

Maybe her two personas, the battlewitch and the maiden, could trade places easier than it seemed if only she would let them through. Maybe they would unite as one if they didn't resent each other as deeply.

To her, Islana's words were open-ended and poetic. It's beautiful.

"It is." She muttered just loud enough for her to hear. The ribbon. The story. The interaction. All were lovely things in the moment.

But she moved away right as Shalia considered reaching out and laying her hand atop Islana's. A comfort too far away and forbidden. Was she startled by the coldness of her skin again, or did she remember the witch's intimidating presence? Was she just afraid again, the last thing she wanted Islana to be right now?
Shalia should have known it wouldn't be that easy to feel something again that would last. But she would never forget what that gesture meant to her. Moments like that never left her mind.
Shalia took a deep breath and straightened herself in the seat.

"We should..." her words paused as if she didn't know where to direct the conversation next. "You should finish your meal and rest. We won't sleep or eat nearly as well on the way back." As she spoke she looked deeply into Islana's eyes, mouth opening slightly but not able to formulate any words of gratitude despite trying. It was hopeless now--she had shaken her own nerves up. With that Shalia stood in the awkward quiet and walked over to look out the large window, gathering herself.

The retribution that was expected never came. Was it just Islana's own internal fear speaking again? No, the woman knew for a fact touching her Mistress without permission wasn't supposed to be allowed. Yet, nothing had happened.

Nothing but another shift between the two and more wondering by the redhead. Should she have left her hand on Shalia longer? How could that be?

"I don't think I can eat anymore."

There was nothing left of the piece of bread or the water. A little of the stew remained in the bowl. Despite how good it was, it was also quite filling after barely eating for so many days.

Islana didn't know if Shalia was finished with her meal but was starting to feel exhausted and the other woman had said to rest.

Looking around the room, there was an area clearly designed for Shalia to sleep in. Islana couldn't have brought herself to take that even if offered.

There was also other pillows though and plenty of room on the rug. She proceeded to makeshift an area to sleep in. It was strange actually sleeping inside after all this time.

She meant to lie down only to check it out so she could be awake if Shalia needed her before the feast. Islana's body had other ideas and the redhead was asleep in an instant.

Shalia had been clutching her pendant, tracing it's carved pattern with her fingers. Her eyes rolled over the courtyard outside and observed what more she could of the interesting place while thinking about the feast to come, the real meeting that she felt much better about now. She had calmed herself down and turned to say something else to Islana but was quickly stopped at the sight of the woman curled up and fast asleep. A pleased smile twisted her lips.

"Sleep well, little bird."

Her gaze lingered on the woman before turning back to the window and crossing her arms with a sigh.