Private Tales Weathering A Quiet Storm

She hated it when it rained.

The near constant solitude was bearable most days, but not when the skies let loose as they did here often enough. The damp in the air made her hip ache where it had been broken. It did not do anything nice to the flesh beneath her scars either; the nerves remembered the flames the most on damp days and during the sharp bite of winter.

At least it was cool.

The tap of her staff on the floor preceded her and once within the Small Library, as it was called, it seemed overly loud amid the quiet stacks. She leaned heavily on it today, her hitching gait relying on its support more than normal.

She pulled the hood of her shawl over her face a little more as she entered. There were people here and she didn't like being stared at as though she were some exhibit on display.

She had come here to find solace in the books, and it was not books of magic that she sought today. Just because it was a school of magic didn't mean that they did not also have regular books. She wanted something she could curl up in a bed or a chair and read - something that would chase the hollowness away. That was buried out of sight, of course. It wouldn't do to show such weakness - not when others already thought that she was the arbiter of her own ruined body.

She never corrected them. They could think that she had been sent her to gain control of the fire within all they liked. The fire hadn't settled in her bones until she had been bathed in its vile heat and light.

Lips compressed in a thin line, an expression of determination writ large, she gamely made her way through the room. After asking one of the many librarians where she could find what she was looking for and retrieving it (without comment on the puzzled expression at the choice of material), she made her way toward the back. There was a fire burning in the mantle and she eyed it warily and went wide round it toward the windows at the back.

There were a few people back here. She ignored them any anything they might say and instead limped to the seat before the window where a single man sat staring out at the cursed rain.

She hesitated a moment. He did not seem to want company and, in fact, seemed wrapped in his own thoughts. She could sense something of the mood in the face reflected from the glass. In fact, she could empathize with it somewhat.

Biting her lip, she gave her head a soft shake. "Excuse me, may I sit here?" The words were quiet and sweet, the accent of Alliria on them with a lilt that was all her own.

She had seen him around, of course. Up close... well, he was quite a specimen. Something in those fair features stirred an ember of a different kind within her. But of course, he was as unattainable as solace and peace were.

Damned if the boy wasn't easy on the eyes, though.

She took the invitation quickly and with a regal dignity that spoke more of her upbringing than it did of her personality. She let a soft sigh of relief pass her lips as she took the weight off her lame leg and stretched it beneath the cream pleats of her skirt with a wince. "Thank you," she said quietly. She was always quiet when anyone was around.

"It looks an entertaining tale," she said softly. She colored a little at the question, crimson staining her cheek on the right side. It vanished beneath the mottled flesh below her left eye - not that he could see much of that. She lowered her head self-consciously to hide it.

"It is..," she started and stopped. Damn her for liking the sweet tale of star-crossed lovers and couples standing against all in pursuit of each other's happiness. She wanted it for herself but could never see it being real. "It's a romance," she admitted after a painfully long second. She seemed to draw in on herself, waiting for the ridicule. "Call me a girl for liking it, but..."

Living vicariously through others filled something of the void inside.

"No," she said. She lifted her head a little, cut her eyes towards the young man. God, but his smile was like the sun that was hidden behind the clouds. Her lips curled faintly into an answering one. Funny how unaccustomed those muscles were to it.

"I didn't often have time to read things like this back home," she added, waving the colorful book vaguely. "Too much time with ledgers and contracts. And since I've been here..."

She took a deep breath and let it out. "Regardless, I can't only study. I like these little stories, so I read one when I can." She lifted her head a little more, a lock of brown hair falling across her blind eye. Her good one traced his face a moment, then fell to the book in his hand. "What have you got there?"

"I don't have any... rituals..," she said and trailed off as he stirred the flames. Her sun-kissed flesh turned a paler shade as she watched the embers swirl and dance in the air and vanish up the chimney. She could feel the heat as the flames were rekindled and it made her shudder in recollection of agony beyond any description.

It was why she doused the flames in her dormitory whenever she could and stayed as far from the hearth as possible. She would rather freeze than be near the light and the heat.

Tearing her eye away from the merrily crackling flame, she turned and looked anywhere else. "I... spend all of my time alone when not in class," she said with a faint tremor in her voice that was quickly and ruthlessly crushed. "Some friendly company is..."

She trailed off again. "Could you... not mess with the fire? Please?" There was a note of pleading in her voice.

She relaxed as he put the stoker away and moved from the hearth. In truth, she would have rather had it put out. Whole world didn't revolve around her, though. "There is no need to apologize," she said earnestly. She felt a twist in her chest at discomfiting him over something that shouldn't be so troubling to her.

She set her book on the chair beside her and sat primly. Her eyes ran over him as he draped himself over the chair. It was almost...admirable, how at ease he was in his own skin. She barely knew him, but she had already gleaned that about him in their prior encounters.

"Sunrise," she said almost automatically. "When the sun is just edging over the hills in the east, and the sky is purple and pink. When that little breeze that brings the day blows in fresh air from the foothills of the mountains..." When all the world was quiet and still, and when another night had come and gone but the world was still there.

She eyed him. "Can't see it when the clouds are in the sky."

"An artist?" There was a hint of piqued interest there. She herself had no natural talent with such things. She'd had numbers and manifests and law and all manner of other practical things force-fed to her since she was old enough to talk. Papa had been liberal with his teachings, after all.

"And from... Dornoch?" She had to think for a long moment about the name he had offered. Among the education were all manner of details of notable places. She'd never asked where he was from in their previous encounters. It wasn't for a lack of caring but rather a lack of attention.

His face was quite distracting.

"I would like to see some of your work sometime," she said and meant it. She appreciated art - not in the hoity-toity way, but for the beauty of a scene or subject captured on canvas.

"No need to be shy about it," she said brightly. "I am sure you are a natural talent."

She seemed to relax a little more. Being in the company of such a pleasant young man was... nice. She made a silent vow to herself that she would get him the supplies he had left back at home. Maybe for his birthday, or for some other reason. She felt drawn to Atticus and his forthright mien. Of course, he was easy on the eyes but he was also easy on her soul.

Others wouldn't have cared for her discomfort and certainly would have passed some kind of comment about her other shortcomings.

"I am familiar with the life of a trader," she said. "My family comes from noble blood, but it that isn't where our influence comes from. We've made our fortune buying and selling so many things. " Her face turned serious. "I've spent so much time in ledgers and manifests and being a part of trade negotiations I fear I may have become a bit.. dull... over the years. I am afraid I do not have much of a creative streak in me."

She turned her head a little to let herself look at him a bit better. Her face remained mostly in shadow, but her eye gleamed brightly and a smile graced her lips all the same.

"I simply meant most would find someone who can take a ledger and market reports and squeeze a profit out of it somehow might not be very interesting," she said. But she was pleased by his words regardless, her smile a warm glow at the kindness received.

"Still, it is a rare talent to be able to give life to a piece of canvas or spin a tale. You shall have to tell me what it is you left behind. Maybe I can get you replacements so that I might get to see your work sooner rather than later."

She sat in companionable silence for a moment, listening to the raindrops strike the glass behind her. The low mutter of thunder and the rain served to mute the crackle of the fire such that she could almost forget that it was there.

"Dornoch," she said after a while. "I've never been. I've visited Fal'Addas and Oban, but otherwise only been in Alliria." Oban was an odious place and she did not like it. Still, there was money to be made there.

If you weren't a woman, anyway. "What is it like? I've read on it a little, but books seldom do the real place justice."

She nodded her head in acquiescence of her offer of gifts and filed it away for later. If she decided she wished to do this thing for him - or anyone else - then she would. That was a thing for a different time and possibly a different conversation.

Regardless, she felt a certain sorrow at the concept of home. She had one, of course. It was empty and hollow though. At best a residence to shelter her, for her to work from.

The soul of it was gone though. Home was in the past and she wasn't even certain that such a thing could be found again.

"I am familiar with the history," she said softly. "But I am unfamiliar with the people. You are the first I've had the pleasure of speaking with so casually," she said. She shifted in her seat a little to relieve the burning in her hip - the weather did not help her in this regard in any way. "Perhaps one day I shall visit." Almost a certainty, that. She was a merchant and the only thing she really understood well was how money worked. Dornoch was another market.

But she did want to see it for something other than its value in coin. As she wished to find in Elbion, too.

"Alliria is also a place of many cultures," she said. And left unsaid that outside the realm of high influence it was a squalid hole full of some of the worst human excesses. "Have you been?"

What a marvelous smile. She couldn't help but match it with her own, even if she couldn't look the boy directly in the eye. Which was a shame - with such fair features and earnest personality, she could probably stare for far too long.

"A mercantile empire," she murmured. "With the wealth of both continents flowing overland and over the seas we have become great." She laughed at his question, light and friendly. "It is true, as far as I know. It takes the better part of two days to truly cross it on foot. If you do not get side-tracked by the markets and goods from all over Arethil," she added.

"Dornoch - as I understand it - was built to provide protection for its people during the war. Alliria was built to squeeze money out of everyone else. Both cities have definitely fulfilled their purposes." She paused, thinking of the streets and the wares. The memories were not as sharp as they should be, however. She had shunned those streets as she did the ones here in Elbion since her arrival, and for the same reason.

She paused at his mention of the Stones. "I would almost rather cross the world without them. So much to see between the cities..."

"I will have to go there eventually," she said. The words were...dry. Very dry. "My brother and I have business in that territory as we do in many other places." She was quite well aware of how the Obanese were like. And that was quite literally the polar opposite of Dornoch. Which made sense, considering the animosity between the two nations.

"Is that what you want to do? Travel the world?" She turned her head slightly so that her good eye could see him. There was interest in her words and her expression - such as could be seen, anyway.

"There is a lot of world to see," she said softly. She looked on, her eye tracing the contour of his face. Such a delightful young man. After a few moments, she looked away so as to not seem like she was staring.

Every time the fire popped, she flinched - reminders of a dark day in the past. She didn't make comment on it though, content to enjoy the silence while her mind... wandered. The book she had brought with her lay forgotten in her lap, her eyes distant as she considered Atticus and his desire to see the world in that manner that one might daydream.

She blinked when he spoke, faint color creeping into her cheeks as she banished whatever thoughts had been rattling round her head. "To refine it," she said. "I have had some tutoring on the subject. Magic does not run in most of my family. What I have, I got from Ma..."

She trailed off, her heart twisting in her chest. Maybe some of that pain translated into her face and maybe not. She ruthlessly clamped down on the well of sorrow that always threatened to break. It's been three years, she hissed at herself in her own head. It is time to move on.

And yet...