Topic: Tempest's Wake

Sjira

Date: 2009-03-12 20:27 EST
For more years than Thale wished to admit, she had been alive. Gristle and bone with nothing much soft about her, by form or by her nature itself. Not once had she been thought of as a Lady. Gentile was neither her tone, her manner, nor anything in her coarse existence.

On that morning, she held to who she was and how she lived just like any other day. Upon her return to RhyDin from visiting family, she had put herself right back to work with the fish, nets, and bringing the fish to market for sale. The docks that day were loud with cries and calls of business and the hustle of cargo coming and going off of the ships.

The short, older woman slapped the hand of an urchin who was trying to snatch a fish from the back of her cart. ?What?s this? Stealin? from me? Off with ye now!? She grinned a frightening smile of cragged teeth that sent the boy bolting. The firsherwoman shook her head and adjusted the fop hat that had her grey hair stuffed up into it.

Thale suddenly sneezed and glanced to the sky and eyed it suspiciously. Clouds were the wrong shade and the air was still too crisp. Warm one day, cold the next. Bones and muscles were hurting more than usual. A gnarled, callused hand pulled a cloth from her trouser pocket and swiped it against her nose, then stuffed it back out of sight. Somewhere on the distance was the sound of thunder that clashed, not so much with its noise but with its comparison to the otherwise clear, cool day.

The sun had shifted enough in its ach of the day, enough to tell Thale that it was time to pack things up. Half shadows of the huddle-up buildings were growing longer by the minute. The clamor on the docks was not dying out entirely but shifting to a different, darker music of sounds. Some of the fish were dropped into the small barrel that was lined with salt while others were dropped into one with water. The ropes were tied from one backside of the flatboard cart to keep anything from slipping out.

Another sneeze caught the old woman off guard and set her cursing. The stiffness in her shoulders was ignored as she lumbered about the side of the cart and hauled herself up to the buckboard. She sighed and lightly slapped the reins down against the flanks of the old swayback horse to encourage him forward.

More thunder grumbled from the lace of clouds along the darkening horizon. As they invaded the area, Thale was pulling horse and cart to stop near her shack. She lumbered down the side of the cart until she stood beside it. With what strength she had left from the busy, long day she walked the old horse into the lean-to shed build in against the shack that served with enough room and shelter for the cart and the horse. The horse was unhitched and brought into his stall. Hay and feed were given to him. She left him with a light pat to the side.

Her feet in that old pair of sturdy boots dragged a bit more against the ground the usual. Thale was very tired today. A vague scratch in her throat urged a cough from her. She opened the door of her simple home and made her way inside. Rest was what she needed. Just a bit of rest while the prelude to an approaching Spring storm was crossing the distance slowly into the heart of RhyDin.

Sjira

Date: 2009-03-12 21:10 EST
After a morning of helping with the laundry at the Red Dragon, S?jira had come back to the Loft above the nearby livery to work on the design in beads for the kindly hearted Rena and to think of how to approach the beaded snood for the lady Azjah.
The small one sat upon the floor to the middle of the Loft with the assortment of beads in tiny piles on leather cloth next to her on the floor as well. Dark long hair was pulled back by a single strip of thin, braided leather. A dress of brown over a soft, cotton shift was worn and belted about the waist. She lost track of time until there was need to light the hearth and oil lamps to be able to see the work at hand.

Commotion was heard below that carried upwards to the Loft. S?jira stopped what she was doing to listen better to it before she carefully gained her bare, small feet and move towards the opening at the ladder. She peered down to see the liveryman talking to a gruff man in his forties. His expression was strange to see, somewhere in the mixture of anger and being at a loss.

?You?ll be tellin? me where the woman is!? The man pulled his hat off and wring it in hands that knew too many days of hard work.

?What makes you think she is here at all? This is a horse livery, not an inn or boarding house!? The liveryman put his hand gently to the shoulder of his son when the boy came nearer to see what was going on.

?Thale said she be here. She?s not the sort to be lyin?! Now, tell me where S?jira be!?

Sjira

Date: 2009-03-12 21:11 EST
Dark eyes blinked as the liveryman reflexively glanced towards the ladder. Both the men and the boy were looking to the ladder and the opening at the top of it. There, they also saw S?jira. Her breath held for a time, wondering what the angry man needed. ?Thale?? Was all that she could manage, at something just short of a squeak of sound.

Oddly, the angry man?s expression changed to hope and his voice along with it. ?Be you S?jira??

From her perch, her head lowered with a nod but said nothing more for the moment.

?Thank the gods! The inn was checked, the markets, even the river.. ? When he found himself being looked at like a madman, he cleared his throat but he was no less earnest. ?Thale is sick. Verra sick. You?re to come at once..?

?Please.. where is she??

?At her shack?at the docks. Please, hurry now.? His thick fingers wrung at his hat.

S?jira?s heart stilled. For a moment, she didn?t breathe or move. Then suddenly, she was gone from their view. They could hear her padding about in her bare feet above, then the sounds changed to something softer of boots.
The beads and work were hurriedly gathered up and put away. She took another few minutes of time to tear a page from her journal when no other paper could be found and scribbled a note for Panther:

The fisherwoman is ill. One will be at the docks

Love is given,
-S?jira

Dark eyes spent a look about the room and put it to the middle of the bed not too far below the pillows. Then she gave into a turn, pulled her cloak from its peg hearthside and made for the ladder. Down it, she moved to the lower level of the livery. A certain, single nod to the warfman, she followed after him as he led the way at a near run. Still pulling the cloak about her shoulders, her pace was a run to keep up with him. Out into the pounding, cold rain and wailing wind.

Sjira

Date: 2009-03-12 22:30 EST
Rain pelted S?jira and the wharfman as if someone where harshly throwing gravel stones at them. Each drop hit hard enough to hurt, even through layers of clothing. The small one?s head was ducked down as they hurried along in the rain, against it and the wind that drove it that night. Both were soaked by the time they had reached the fisherwoman?s shack. The man opened the door roughly, but stepped aside and even helped to shield her a bit from the weather long enough for S?jira to slip inside. The man was on her heels a moment afterwards to shut and bar the door behind them against the battering winds.

Dark eyes flickered a look towards the man as the door was barred, but understood immediately the reason for it. Then she peeled the heavy, dripping short cloak from her shivering body to lay it over the back of the only chair in the shack. Squishing, soft leather boots were loud in the shack, but she was oblivious of the puddles and muck she was leaving in her own wake.

The fisherwoman was seen by the light of a single candle that danced weakly about at the top of it. S?jira moved swiftly to the side of the bed where the old woman lay. She saw that Thale?s roughened, weather worn face seemed a little smoother as if some of her life?s hardships had been washed away.

? ?jira girl..? Thale pointed a gnarled hand towards her, but it was not out of anger but to implore the young woman nearer. Two little words sounds raked over coals in their coarseness.

Another step brought her close enough to grasp the woman?s hand with both of hers. Worriment settled into her heart as well as expression and gaze. ?It was said that you are very ill.?

Thale reached up slowly and patted the younger woman on the back of one of her hands. At the same time, she weakly offered S?jira a smile. ?An? ye would like to make me feel better by tellin? me that I don?t look so bad, eh? Is that it??

She could only nod. Water dripped from her brown hair that was nearly black with all the water in it from the rain.

?I know ye cannae lie. Donnae worry, ?jira gi?? Thale was then racked with coughing that was thick and lasted long enough to nearly drive her to the edge of consciousness.

S?jira slipped away from the bed and saw to stoking the ill-made fire. It took time but a fire soon crackled again in its humble holding.

?S?jira,? It was not Thale?s voice that spoke her name and she glanced towards the man at the door. ?A healer?ll be gone for. You?ll be stayin? with her now?? He waited long enough to see the dark haired woman nod, then he unbarred the door and headed back out into the storm.

Sjira

Date: 2009-03-12 22:36 EST
The meager hearth was abandoned for a moment as S?jira hopped up and moved towards the door to push it full and flush against its uneven framework. Strength of the wind was enough to remind her to bar the door again or it would have flown open on its hinges, if not fallen into pieces on the floor.

?Ye came. Yer a good one.. ? Thale had never called her a friend, but the sentiment was conveyed before another bout of coughing took her words and her breath.

Hands trembled slightly and wiped them dry on the skirt of her dress before turning and moving to the simple table where a bowl and mug were. She washed both of them out as best that could be done there. The mug was filled with ale and the bowl of stew found in a pot on the hearth?s hook.

"Glad yer here, 'jira girl. It's been a long last few days'n'all. Was so tired today. So tired.." She raggedly breathed and continued. "Then the rains started. Was rainin' the other day too. Then warm again.. " Thale rambled from one thing to another without the gruffness she was known to sprew forth. "That was Garet. Know'em at'all? Mm.. no matter. He's a goodin', but he acts.. like I cannae take care of me'self." She quieted for a long time and struggled with breathing.

When reached the fisherwoman?s side again, she found that a sleep had come over her. S?jira put the bowl and mug on the seat of the chair and carried them all closer to the bed to be within reach. In the hour that followed, the small one fretted and watched over the old woman. This time was different. Even in the tallow light she could tell that Thale?s health was failing sharply. Her hand alighted against Thale?s arm and rested there while.

Worry was heavy upon the small one's heart. There was a great weakness in everything about the fisherwoman that night. Even a small weakness was enough to worry about with Thale.

With a particularly loud roll of thunder, the older woman startled awake. Her eyes were wide and breathing rattled. She reached for the woman who sat on the bed beside her, with a grip of someone drowning and needing to be pulled out of churning waters and their undertow. S'jira's own gaze had gone wide and she leaned forward to try to hear what Thale was saying, but nothing could be made out.

Then all was quiet within the tiny shack, save for the crackling and popping of the fire in the little hearth and the pounding of the wind and rain outside.

"Thale.. ?" S'jira barely spoke that single word. A strangle cry lodged in her throat she realized that the fisherwoman's rattled, ill breathing had stopped all together. Under the sounds of the storm that night, the small one's head lowered.. and she began to cry. Too late for help, too late for a healer. The Sea Hag was gone.

Sjira

Date: 2009-03-13 20:51 EST
She did not remember falling asleep, but had cried herself into such a weary state that sleep itself had gently taken her into its bossom.

The hour was late, or early. with the hint of morning's pale late sneaking in through cracks at the sides and bottom of the shack's door. She woke groggily at first, uncertain of what had happened.

But that uncertainty only lasted the briefest of moments to see the old woman still dead in her bed. Someone had covered her head and face with nicer bit of cloth than the fisherwoman had ever had in her possesion.

S'jira should have gringed, should have left the side of the bed then but instead she leaned in to hug the rough-natured woman that wouldn't have allowed it when she was alive. Then the small one finally rose. It was nothing hurried with the weight of grief on her heart.

A look further, passed the old woman's bed itself found the man Garet there.

"How.. long have you been there?"

Garet cleared his throat and looked from Thale to S'jira. "An hour, by the guessin'."

"The healer?" Shoulders were stiff and her neck hurt from the position she had fallen into for those few hours.

"Come an' gone. There was nothin' he could do. She was already gone."

There was puzzling over it. S'jira had never seen the man before, but he seemed to struggle with his words, as if he was keeping himself from crying over the loss of Thale.

"She.. has family. It is possible.. "

"One's already been dragged outof'is bed. The word's already been sent."

"No right is ..mine for the asking, but it is asked.. " Lips parted, then she stilled herself. Weariness was with her and a tear was drawn from her newly wet cheek. "Will you watch over her, until word comes from her family? It is.. is it not known where her family want her burial or pyre."

Garet nodded, but he didn't trust himself to speak.

"Thanks is given, Garet..." S'jira managed a look towards the dorment one upon the bed, then accepted her cloak and its slight dampness. Drawing it about her shoulder, she waited while Garet unbarred the shack's door.

Then she moved out of the area and down the street in the wane, morning light in the direction that was known to lead to both the Red Dragon Inn and the livery that catered often to it and its patrons.

That day, the small one did not rise early. Instead, she climbed the stairs to the Loft to crawl into bed where she slept most of that day into the late evening.

Sjira

Date: 2009-03-16 18:26 EST
The day or so that followed was remembered in the same way one has to see their surroundings on a foggy, early morning.

S?jira spent much of that first day after Thale?s death in mourning. It would be wondered later if Panther had been shocked or worried, for the small one had gone through her wailing and the tearing of clothes in her grief.

On the second, she had bathed and brushed her hair, then donned a dress of dark, earthy red and belted it about the middle. The morning that of that day was leaning more into the after-noon hours when she finally left the Loft. She squinted against the sun and made her way along the cobbled road that veined its way through the heart of the city to the docks. She spoke to none along the way, not meaning to ignore the few who knew her and passed without a look or nod of her head in their direction. S?jira?s thought were simply too distracted on the death of the old woman.

A heart continued to ache as she glanced to the door of the ill-reputed pub located at the wharfs. She gathered what courage she needed to unplant those small, booted feet of her and opened the door to make her way inside.

The smell hit her at first, or smells, and made her stomach twist. Unwashed bodies, spilt ole ale and liquor, tobacco smoke thick on the air, and among it all hints of leather worn and strewn straw on the floor that did little to soak up the inevitable spills. S?jira stopped at the door for a couple of reasons: to let in light to a place that had less light than some store rooms that lacked windows.. and to breathe.

Before she could think just how she was going to go about this, a few men grumbled and cursed behind her. The curses were not ones of upset. No, they were far more vilified than that. Her head lowered and she drew off to the side of the door?s way to let them step into the pub. Courage was then gathered again before she turned to look to the faces of those in the crowded, dark-natured ale house. Heart was about to hope to find what she sought elsewhere when eyes caught on movement and saw that it was him.

?S?jira,? Garet?s expression was nothing short of shock. Then something firm of purpose, he clasped his hand about her upper, right arm and dragged her out of there.

Sjira

Date: 2009-03-16 18:39 EST
?What are ye doin? here, girl??

S?jira squinted against the sudden brightness of the day after such an abrupt movement from one environment to the other. She eased when Garet?s hand fell away. ?It was .. you were sought.? Tinted features were rouged a darker shade with the embarrassment and nervousness stepping into such a place had caused.

?I? What for?? He jerked a thumb over his shoulder to the pub where the raucous laughter was shoving through the murkily paned window and half-cocked door. Eyes met hers with a speculative narrowing, watching her with the difficulty of finding the words. ?I left her in the care of ?nother, S?jira. She be in good hands with Shiola. Ye be knowin? her, eh? From the markets.?

?Yes. The one who sales the sugar and seed breads.?

Garet nodded and clamped a heavy, calloused hand down on the small woman?s shoulder. ?Don?t be worryin?, girl. We?ll see her proper to her family.? He let her shoulder go and dug about in the pocket of his tunic. Dirty, crumpled paper was unfolded and handed to her. ?See for yerself there. Family?s on its way an?ll be here by morrow-late.?

The small one worried but she eased a bit more to hear it. ?They will be met well tomorrow. It will be seen to.? S?jira promised it quietly and looked to the paper. She reached for it and read the family?s reply. ?It was not known she had family beyond.. beyond a sister.?

?Seems a whole brood of?em.? Garet grinned and tried to make her feel better. ?I better get back in now. There?ll be talk if we stand about much longer.? He gave her a wink and shouldered his way back into.
The pub?s door was open only long enough for S?jira to see Garet shove a patron out of the way and start the swing of punch.

The small one winced and held her breath, then exhaled. With the closing of the door, she gave into a turn. A glance towards the docks, and further out where Thale?s shack stood, before S?jira moved off out of the area. There was work to be done and, with any luck to be found, it would steal her thoughts away from such an ill week.

Sjira

Date: 2009-03-21 00:22 EST
Days passed in the wake of the fisherwoman's death without event.

Work was done and rest was taken.

Time was even there for the meeting of the fisherwoman's family and to see to the burial of the older woman in the cemetary there along the outskirts of RhyDin.

Peace and love was found in the arms of Panther and, occasionally, friends were spoken with. But mostly, to self the small one stayed. Though her heart was not as heavy as it had been days prior, she still mourned quietly. Day by day, it lightened a bit more. And she was starting to smile again.

Spring was edging in with leaves coming to the branches of winter-barren trees.. and flowers had already started to bud and bloom. No more snows had been seen that week.

Upon the horse borrowed from the Livery, she road that afternoon in the Glen. It had been quiet there, peaceful, in almost every visit. That day her heart eased a bit further to rest beneath one of its ancient trees and let the warming breeze slip about her and thoughts and heart were allowed once again the peace that area held in a sort of magick all its own.