Acolyte Out (Definitely Not) Shopping

[Adelaide nó Nicodeme]

Timeline: Second week of Winter, Year One of Queen Sabrina's Reign, early afternoon

I seldom ventured outside the walls of the temple in winter, especially when it was this cold, but it was one of those days when tempers ran high and I was subsequently exiled to avoid provoking the wrath of my elders.

Technically, I had been exiled to my room, but I had long since mastered the art of climbing out through the window, even with my heavy traveling cloak around my shoulders. Snow or no snow, I was certain I could find some diversion that was preferable to sitting inside a stuffy old--albeit warm--building trying to memorize words in equally stuffy old books.

The price I paid for freedom was the cold, some part of it nestled in my bones no matter how tightly I wound my cloak around my body, but the discomfort was ultimately tolerable. In the Artisan's District, business was business, even in winter, and there were plenty of things to see even if there were less stalls around.

I could not afford any of it, of course, so I avoided the clothiers in general while secretly envying women of less humble means who could afford fine clothes and jewels and went everywhere dressed as if they were anticipating a royal visit at any moment.

A cold blast of wind chilled me to the bone and I shivered violently, teeth chattering as I leaned against the side of a building to steady myself. Mayhap this was not the best idea, I thought as I began looking this way and that to try and get my bearings, only to realize that I was in a part of the district that I had never been to before. I had been so distracted by my internal dialogue that I had not been paying attention to my body's wanderings.

Oh no, I thought, suppressing the image that came to mind of Master Auberon's reaction if he found out that not only had I fled the temple grounds, but had managed to become lost in the Artisan's District for gods knew how long, assuming that I wasn't waylaid by ruffians while trying to find my way home.

[Faisan nó Balm]

It was an odd thing to find in myself, but the more bitter the weather grew, the less I fretted about having to go outside. Once upon a time I would have certainly enjoyed sunny days and warm nights better, but the bitter cold and gusting wind meant less people were likely to be out and about. In my innocence, I thought that would make it easier to see someone who did not belong in my surroundings.

I found myself making haste nonetheless. I still received word when certain herbs and seeds came to a few places, who had known me to spend precious coins on such stores. They were not for food more often than not, their uses purely medicinal, and so anyone willing to buy them was, I imagine, someone they were willing to cultivate as a friend.

And there were such stores as would draw even me from the safety of Balm.

I'd come out well prepared for the weather. My winter gear was not richly decorated, but it would have made a goat shepherd on the barest cliff of the steepest mountain peak warm in the middle of a blizzard, and the craft of it was as fine as I could afford. I was warm, which was more than I could say of most of the scant few people passing me by.

And certainly more than I could say of the young woman half-leaning, half-sheltering against the side of one of the stores in the Quarter. She looked lost, she looked cold, and she looked mercifully D'Angeline.

And I was a soft-hearted idiot. A woman can put a knife in one's back as easily as any man-at-arms. Easier, yet, if you don't expect it.

I moved to her, pulling down the folds of my scarf. "Mam'selle, you're lost." I didn't have to ask; it was obvious from just her posture. "May I help you find your way?"

[Adelaide nó Nicodeme]

I was still deliberating what to do about my situation when I was approached by a man. This in itself was not an uncommon thing, but I was unused to socializing with males who were not somehow connected to the temple.

Still, when he asked if he could guide me home, I had to resist the urge to throw myself into his arms and beg him to rescue me from the cold. Well, I wasn't that cold, besides, he was a complete stranger, even though he appeared trusting enough.

"Could you direct me to Kushiel's sanctuary?" I asked, feeling like an idiot for not thinking of retracing my steps. I wondered if he would think I was a penitent, or if he would assume that my wandering around in the cold was my penance.

[Faisan nó Balm]

"Kush... Kushiel's? Kushiel's Sanctuary?"

Of all the places someone in the city might have asked to be directed to, Kushiel's temple was... well, it hadn't been on my list until then. Of course I knew where it was, in theory. I just had never been there in person. Still, if that's where the young woman needed to go, her business was probably private. "Of course. Though... you're perhaps a little too lightly dressed for the walk in this weather."

That was Eisheth talking, again; I was a little unhappy with the blush the cold was putting on her cheeks and the fast tune her teeth were singing. I suspected, though I wasn't sure, that she was wearing the cloak over her clothes as the sum total of protection against the cold. She was holding it in such a grip it was hard to tell. "Let's make a brief stop first." I pointed to a small shop, little more than a roof and an improvised hearth with an even more improvised fire, where some enterprising soul was selling mulled cider. "My treat." More firmly, I added, "You won't walk comfortably there without some warmth to carry you."

Though of course if she was on her way to Kushiel's Temple, comfort might be a moot point. But I felt duty-bound to make the offer.

[Adelaide nó Nicodeme]

I had to resist the strong urge to roll my eyes when the man repeated my destination to himself. He sounded positively baffled, although I suppose that was to be expected. In my experience, penitents were seldom open about their visits to the temple, and even some priests even kept their identities a secret from the outside world.

But my face blanched when he pointed to a stall where a man was selling cider. I was already in enough trouble as it was. What if someone from the temple recognized me and told Master Auberon?

"N-No thank you," I said. "I don't think my father would appreciate my accepting drinks from strangers, even handsome ones." I bit my lip. "I have duties to attend to at the temple. I'm an acolyte there." I had long since learned that most outsiders gave me a measure of respect if they learned of my vocation, respect, and sometimes fear, even though I was hardly one to inspire the second reaction.

[Faisan nó Balm]

An acolyte? Balm's apprentices didn't freely leave the House, if they left it at all. Were the temples more free? Was Kushiel's temple more lenient?

Leniency and Kushiel seemed an unlikely combination. And her lack of proper attire but for the heavy cloak didn't strike me as proof of her having passage to be outside on her own. But saying something wouldn't achieve a thing. At least about my suspicions. If her teeth were chattering, there were a few other signs I could readily guess at. "We can certainly do so." I kept my tone soft, but firm. Any healer worth his salt perfects that tone, which comforts and berates all at the same time. "Your feet are probably numb now, but they're going to tingle and hurt when we start walking in earnest. Your fingers are probably already stiff. You'll do better with something warm in you, or at least holding something warm, but I can take you to the Temple regardless. Faisan no Balm, at your service." I smiled a bit, not wanting my observations to make her nervous, wanting her to know how I knew what I was saying, then added more solemnly, "I'm sure we can get a chipped cup for you to carry, and we can walk as you drink. I shan't even touch it, if that would help."

[Adelaide nó Nicodeme]

I scowled at him. "Is this your way of scolding me, Faisan no Balm? It's not working, but you made a nice effort." I only managed a half smile, though, mentally cursing the wind for chilling me to the bone.

"I suppose a little cider wouldn't hurt, since I know this is probably one of those cases where you won't leave me alone until I do whatever you think is best for me, right?" I didn't wait for his response, instead stalking over to the stall and requesting some of the hot drink, which was duly given. I made a point of explaining that the adept was the one who would pay for it, and then I hunched over my drink, breathing on it to cool it so that it was drinkable.

"I suppose I should tell you my name then, since you told me yours," I said. "It's Adelaide, Adelaide nó Nicodeme."

[Faisan nó Balm]

I wasn't sure if it was the cold that was making her short, or if it was her usual way. Either way, she seemed to be in a fine temper; either that, or I was simply used to the Balm acolytes, who were hardly seen or heard unless it were on their free time. Perhaps it was Kushiel's fashion that his servants were all so prone to that imperious manner.

I paid for the cheap clay cup and the drink, thanking the man and moving to her, gesturing to the street, my tone as calmly polite as I could make it. "We may walk to the Temple at your leisure. Though you have a very particular way to thank a stranger for giving you aid, mam'selle acolyte."

[Adelaide nó Nicodeme]

I glared at him over the rim of the mug. "Well, I am cold, and if my father finds out I've gone then he'll probably string me up by my ears, so perhaps you'll forgive me if I'm not feeling very grateful. Besides, I may be an acolyte, but I'm not a very good one." I tried to take a sip of the cider and pulled back as the brew burned my tongue, sucking in a sharp breath as I did so.

"It's not my fault the books they give me to read are so dull that they would put Hell's most excitable courtier to sleep!" I continued, scowling briefly, then glancing over at him. "Do they make you read dull things as an adept?" I knew little of adepts, save that their religious duties were a little more...intimate...then mine.

[Faisan nó Balm]

I had the feel I had misjudged the young acolyte's age; it was hard to judge, to begin with, when she was hugging her heavy cloak to herself like a second skin.

"If you've left the Sanctuary without permission," I asked, my tone as cautious as I could make it, while I pondered her question, "should it not be Kushiel's reproach that worries you, not your family's, or your fellows priests?"

Our gods walked so very close and so very far from us, at the same time. Even without the marque upon my back, I couldn't, wouldn't, have left Namaah's service for Eisheth's; I'd learned to listen too well when she spoke without words, in the motion, the gesture, the look and speech of a patron. They would have to share my services, likely until the day I died.

"There are many books an Adept reads, some more than others. As a Balm, many of them are about the body and its workings. And yes, perhaps they can be dull, or poorly written. But I could never speak to my fellow Adepts, to other healers or chirurgeons, and learn from them, if I hadn't learned about what it is they were talking about in the first place." I shrugged a little, looking about to get my bearings. "The foundation of a building is dull and boring and doesn't look like very much. But it's still needed."

[Adelaide nó Nicodeme]

I shook my head."My father is a priest, Messire. Well, technically he's my adoptive father, but I've lived under Kushiel's wing for as long as I can remember. As for the god's reproach, I would say that your own father wielding the lash that punishes you is reproach enough." I took a tentative sip of my cider, sighing as the warm brew slid down my throat and pooled in my stomach, banishing the cold.

"I suppose you're right," I admitted when he had finished speaking. "My teachers say something similar, but it seems I have been working on the foundation for years, now." I sighed, taking another sip of my cider.

"So, Balm...that's the House with all the healers, right?" I felt my cheeks redden. "I'm...not so familiar with...such things. Um..." I looked down at my feet, watching them make their way through the snow.

[Faisan nó Balm]

Her blush proclaimed her youth louder than if she'd shouted it at me. "A good, strong foundation may indeed take years to build."

"Yes, Balm is the house of healing through pleasure, and pleasure through healing", I answered levelly, making no obvious note of her embarrassment. She was an acolyte, out without leave, and complaining of her studies; the last thing she needed was to be further patronized by a stranger when she likely thought that was all her teachers and peers did. And in truth, that might be all they did; I knew very little of life within the walls of a temple.

"I'm sure you could ask, if you were curious about the Houses. Certainly any of your teachers would explain. I could try, while we walk, but I know my House deeply and the other twelve only in passing, so your questions might find poor answers."

[Adelaide nó Nicodeme]

I shrugged. "I know what you do...a bit. My father talked to me about it a long time ago." I wrinkled my nose. "He basically said that if anyone made me feel uncomfortable, to tell him because he was going to have words with them." I shivered, and this time it wasn't because of the cold. When Master Auberon used that tone of voice, it meant that he was going to be using more than words.

"I don't understand why he's so nervous about it. I'm sixteen now, and I can make my own choices!" I folded my arms over my chest, and then I belatedly remembered that I was speaking to someone, and let my arms drop to my sides.

"Is it...normal...for someone my age to not have a...chest?" I asked, placing my hands where the parts in question were unmistakable. "I've asked at the temple, and everyone says that they haven't grown in yet, but Cecile is younger than me and she already has them. I know you're...male...but you study female anatomy too, don't you?"

[Faisan nó Balm]

How odd it must be. Mam'selle Adelaide may have been gifted a father by Kushiel, but apparently a mother was still lacking.

I might have hesitated, to have such things asked of me by a stranger, walking as we were down a public street. I sought refuge, as ever I did in such matters when Namaah seemed absent, in Eisheth's wisdom. She had a valid question, and a concern not uncommon among many, many young women. The reassurances of a lover would do no good with her, but those of a healer were different.

"Every body matures differently. Not just that, but every body matures at a different speed. Elua and Namaah, in their wisdom, grant that there is always a heart to which we all will be beautiful, full-figured or light."

I looked at her as we walked, wrists, shoulders, facial structure; the places where physical growth first advertise themselves. I couldn't see her legs, and barring that glimpse as she gestured, I couldn't make out the rest of her body, but I could guess from her words. "It might be that you've not started your full development yet. Some women don't even fill all of their curves until they bear children. You'll have to exercise patience. Again." I smiled lightly at her, meaning only a gentle tease with my words.

[Adelaide nó Nicodeme]

"Always patience!" I exclaimed, but I managed to smile. "I suppose next you will tell me that patience is a virtue and that someday I will look back on this and laugh, yes?" I sighed. "If only the gods, in their wisdom, had decreed that everyone should develop before their peers have a chance to make fun of them, but I guess they would just find something else to ridicule, right?"

We had reached a crossroads and I looked left and right, not bothering to hide my relief when I recognized one of the stores. "The temple lies in this direction," I said, already imagining warming my limbs before the nearest fire as I turned and started down the road.

[Faisan nó Balm]

Ah, the sound of someone who's heard one lesson far too many times. Though I was glad she was getting her calm and her warmth back enough to come to recognize her surroundings.

"Patience... is a tool to help us bear what lessons the gods, and men, put on our path. But I've always thought the reason we can look back to our past and laugh at its pains is merely because it's just that, the past. We learned from it, and moved on."

I gave her words due consideration as we turned down the road. I wasn't certain, but if she was out here, roaming against the temple's (and her father's) wishes, I didn't think being heard was something she found often. "Perhaps they would have found something else, or someone else, but what ifs are just another way to lose sleep at night. Mockery is like a light being waved into the fog: an attempt to make something take shape into our perceptions that doesn't, and never will, by a mind that really ought to accept some things, and people, simply are as they are. You'll have notice that when you do that, fog might swirl and dance, but nothing much changes of it. It doesn't care; it isn't touched by it."

"Lead on; the least I can do is see you to... whatever point of entrance you wish to call a door today." I wasn't jesting, either. I meant to see her safe home, as it were, but I saw no need to tattle her out to her father or any others. "But if you are to try this kind of outing again, I'd like your word you'll be better prepared against the cold next time."

[Adelaide nó Nicodeme]

I rolled my eyes. "I promise I will dress warmly next time, mother. Will two layers of clothing suffice?" I suppose I couldn't fault him for being concerned, especially if he was a Balm adept, and he had given me sage advice.

He had bade me to lead him, so I did, nearly sighing with relief when I beheld Kushiel's temple, standing solitary and stark against the landscape. I knew that many D'Angelines found it forbidding, but to me, it was home.
"Look, there it is," I said out loud, as if it wasn't obvious. "Have you ever...visited...before?" It would have been against my vows to talk of what others said during confession, but this was innocent, as far as I could tell.

[Faisan nó Balm]

"Me? No, no, I'm too plain a person to bother the gods with whatever small faults I might have."

I sighed a bit into my scarf, securing it again once the wind finally got done tugging it out of place. Gently, but firm, I asked, "Are you always this abrasive to strangers who offer simple aid?"

[Adelaide nó Nicodeme]

"Yes, in fact," I replied, grinning. "And I don't think you'd be bothering anyone, Kushiel hears peasant and king alike, or so everyone keeps telling me. I haven't yet seen a royal visitor, but tongues tend to wag even in the temples." I shrugged. "Temple gossip isn't very interesting..."

Each step brought us closer to the temple. I could still see the impressions my feet had made in the snow, and I followed them around to my window, which was, thankfully, as I had left it. I was seldom disturbed while studying.

"Um, could you give me a boost up?" I asked sheepishly. "It's hard to climb in this cloak." I grasped the window ledge and pulled, feet flailing about trying to find a hold in the hard stone.

[Faisan nó Balm]

I looked at the window... ah, Elua. She had to be really, terribly young. Or terribly sheltered. Or both.

"Perhaps you should consider that your manner might be half the reason your peers treat you unkindly", I said mildly. "No one likes to be polite, let alone friendly, when the reply is a tongue like a thistle."

Nonetheless, I wrapped my hands around her waist, betrayed under the cloak by her flailing legs. By the grace of all the gods she didn't get my chin, but she did manage to tag my ribs nicely with a foot before I lifted her to the window; she weighed no more than any other acolyte at Balm, thankfully. I lifted her high enough that she could either sit or kneel on the sill, I hoped, waiting to see if that cloak tripped her up and ready to catch her if she fell out. If she fell in, there was little I could do anyways.

[Adelaide nó Nicodeme]

He lifted me up and I teetered on the edge of the sill before falling into the room with a loud and very undignified "Oof!"

I was glad the adept couldn't see me in this state, even though he had probably heard everything. I hastily sprang to my feet and peered out the window at him. "I'm fine!" I said, as if it wasn't obvious. He seemed like the type who would fuss over little things like a short fall from a window.

I kept my hands braced on the sill as I leaned out into the cold air. "Thanks for walking me home," I said. "If you ever feel the need to visit the temple, just ask for me and I'll find you one of the good priests, the ones that don't automatically assume that you're coming to confess a murder." I rolled my eyes. "Well, they don't actually think that, but some of them can be a little...overenthusiastic...with the flogger, and you don't even have to confess if you don't want to! I don't...get many visitors..." I felt my cheeks heat. Gods, I sounded like an idiot, and I hadn't exactly been giving him a ton of reasons to want to speak to me ever again. Besides, he was practically a stranger. Was I that starved for attention?

"Sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to phrase it that way. I don't even know you that well..."

[Faisan nó Balm]

I couldn't help a smile at her... enthusiasm. The fall didn't seem to have dampened her spirits none, and her wit sounded as if it would never lose its sharpness. I sighed a bit, unwinding the scarf from my neck.

"I don't often leave Balm House. I was only planning to run a quick errand and return at once. And I truly... don't lead such a life as might bring me to this exciting a place." I looked calmly at her. "I'm sure you'll find your way out of the temple again, through the door or the window. I'd prefer the door, obviously... But if you decide to go out in the cold, at least take this with you."

I pressed the scarf into her hand, stepping back so I could look at her more directly. "It might be easier to make friends, however, if you are here, not out there, no?"

[Adelaide nó Nicodeme]

I stared, dumbfounded, at the scarf he pressed into my hands. "I...I will..." I answered as I ran my fingers along the length of material. No one outside the temple had ever done something like this for me before.

I tore my eyes away from the scarf long enough to meet his gaze. "I mean, thank you, messire. I'll be sure to wear it when next I find myself outside the temple walls, although, if anyone asks, I guess I should make up a story about how a penitent gave it to me in thanks or something of that nature." I was already in enough trouble if Master Auberon found out I left the temple when I was supposed to be studying, but accepting gifts from strangers--even well-meaning ones--would probably mean a month's time of cleaning the latrines.

[Faisan nó Balm]

I smiled wryly at her words. There wasn't an Adept worth his words that didn't know how to spin them, and while I was still working on it, I had some measure of wit. "Or you go do your duties in a courtyard, and mention you found it this very windy day in one of the temple's courtyards, but nothing else unless asked. The best lie is always simple, Mam'selle Adelaide."

[Adelaide nó Nicodeme]

"Adelaide, just Adelaide," I corrected him. "Everyone calls me that anyways, and I guess that's as good an explanation as any." I grinned. "So I suppose I should come to Balm House if I need help with telling lies?" I shook my head so that my hair settled in place down my shoulders and back. "I guess your housemates wouldn't like that very much," I amended.

[Faisan nó Balm]

I shrugged in puzzlement. "We welcome all who need healing. Any servant of any of the gods would always be welcomed, on top of that. The only thing you'll not be able to do unless you have the funds is get an assignment."

I grinned. "But I would hope, if you are to come, that you would do so with permission, yes? I have a very soothing mix of herbs that warms one to the very bones in days like this."

[Adelaide nó Nicodeme]

I nodded. "I don't think my father would like it if I went to Mont Nuit without telling him first. He says I'm not ready for..." I made a vague gesture, "...yet. But I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I said I was going to fetch some brews, I run errands for the temple sometimes, just not usually in the middle of winter on a day like today." I made a face. "It doesn't taste horrible, does it? Sometimes they give me a tonic at night and it tastes like something died in the bottle, but Lady Elise says that they make sure that nothing like that happens, it still tastes horrible, though."

[Faisan nó Balm]

"Some medicines do taste bad. The stronger the medicine, the stronger the flavor, and it can't always be disguised without being weakened."

I resisted the urge to ask what it was she was given, since she likely wasn't told what the components or brewing processes were to begin with. "I try to put in ingredients that will give my medications a pleasant flavor, or at least soften the bad ones. There's Aragonian flavors that make it very good, I'd like to think. What is this tonic you have to take for?"

[Adelaide nó Nicodeme]

I wrinkled my nose. "Lady Elise say's that it's 'for my own good', and she's an old woman so I don't want to argue with her." I shrugged. "Sometimes they give me a draught of something else when I have a nightmare, it tastes better and it helps me sleep, 'but never too much' says Lady Elise, 'and always with water'." I shrugged again. "I suppose if they though it was important to know, they would have told me, but I suppose the elders hide a lot of things from the acolytes."

[Faisan nó Balm]

"I don't usually share the knowledge of my medicines with those I treat, but that's because not too many of them would understand them", I admitted freely.

"And she's right, sleeping draughts can be dangerous in excess. You should always be careful with them."

I thought about it. "If it bothers you, and you can describe it to me, I can try and help you find out what it is she's giving you. A lot of older women have old recipes that are meant to help with general health."