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Post by Grace Ouilet on Jul 11, 2011 19:53:07 GMT -5
In the wake of the sudden onslaught of d'Angeline soldiers against what I'd discovered was called Eiriks clan, there was.. quietness. Peace was a word only used to describe the sound of the childrens laughter and play, though even that was subdued, and their mothers weren't letting them venture more than a handful of feet away before calling them back again. I had sat with Marta for most of the morning, watching her children, eyeing Falki, unsure of what to do or where to go. Some d'Angelines had escaped in the mayhem, but I wasn't one of them. Mayhap I could have been, had I not stood so stupidly and watched the blood and gore, had I not stood and watched him.
When I slept, I dreamed.. I dreamed of Miryelle, of her laughing and snuggling into my arms, or I dreamed of Marcel. In those dreams, I was the one doing the snuggling. Sometimes Miryelle was with us, sometimes our babe was born and we four were together. Sometimes... but other times I dreamt of him turning his back on me and refusing to acknowledge me. Sometimes I dreamed of Miryelle crying, of no one consoling her.. sometimes I dreamed I was drowning and there was no help.
Anymore I avoided sleep, even as exhausted as I was. When I was ordered to go out and try to find wild-growing food, I accepted gladly just for the chance to be active and not doze off, no matter I was going to be going off with a man I'd never before met. I'd seen him 'round the camp, but I paid as little attention to him as I had everyone else, and knew little.
Brushing the dirt from my skirts, I rose and made my way to the mouth of the cave where I was instructed Kai would meet me. I wasn't nervous, not anymore; now I was resigned, like a beaten and flogged horse, going to do what I was told and trying not to think of a better life. Marcel was hurt, and I prayed fervently that he survived.. even if he would never be mine, I never would wish anything but health and happiness unto him.
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Post by Kai “Ill-Begotten” Ungewollt on Jul 11, 2011 20:08:07 GMT -5
I'd somehow managed to stay out of the fight – seeing it from afar, shooting arrows, well aimed, to heads and hearts, had been enough. Mostly, though, I'd stayed with the rear guard, with the women and children.
With Johanna and Heribert, and those who tried to understand the sudden onslaught of violence. Truth be, it hardly surprised me. Poke a bear with a stick often times enough, it will swat at you with its paw, and you'll be sorry.
I'd been ordered to accompany a D'Angeline prisoner out, picking roots and berries – I might set snares as we went, too, and perhaps shoot a pheasant or two. Food was running out already, or would soon, I wagered. And the innocent needed to feed.
I went to meet her – she was pretty, I noted, but she looked beaten. One of Falki's. I imagined he wasn't the harshest master – and I half wondered if he'd used her as his sex slave, or not. Probably not. Marta, it was said, had little tolerance for such things.
“Come,” I rasped when we finally met. “And I'm Kai, should you need to address me.”
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Post by Grace Ouilet on Jul 11, 2011 21:58:29 GMT -5
I waited no more than a moment before a man approached, and I watched him quietly. Not blankly; I was not so far gone, but I was subdued and quiet, knowing my place beneath the bootheel of those here. I faired better than some, which I was grateful for, but too I was resentful that I had to be grateful.
The man heeled me like a dog, and I turned, obediently following him, though I couldn't help but turn and look over my shoulder as we began walking away, looking towards where the clan had lived.. where I'd last seen my countrymen, had seen Marcel.
"I'm Ma.. Grace," I said, catching myself too late, and bit my tongue. Stupid stupid Maigrey.
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Post by Kai “Ill-Begotten” Ungewollt on Jul 12, 2011 20:25:09 GMT -5
I lengthened my stride to fall in step with her, looking at her curiously. D'Angeline, and beautiful besides. My age, too, or close. By Odhinn, I thought she might yet need to sleep more.
“Magrace?” I repeated, the name awkward on my tongue. “Is that a common D'Angeline name?”
I thought she might have... slipped. As if Grace wasn't her real name, perhaps. But it was none of my business, and if there was one thing I always refused, it was to interrogate female prisoners.
My mother might have been like her, I mused. Was she? Was she as hurt and fearful as this one? Or was she as angry as the Caerdicci girl? I wondered, and it made my heart ache.
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Post by Grace Ouilet on Jul 18, 2011 16:15:49 GMT -5
I blushed, then blushes more as he repeated my given name and my blunder all in one breath. "Just Grace, monsieur," I begged quietly. "I'm afraid I'm tired, I'm not as sharp as I normally am." Tired, depressed, worried. I half thought I'd lost weight since Falki had stolen me; it seemed everything I ate went through me and to the babe, and more still atop that.
"I'm afraid I've never really picked nuts and berries before," I admitted, hoping to change the subject, my cheeks still burning.
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Post by Kai “Ill-Begotten” Ungewollt on Jul 18, 2011 19:45:34 GMT -5
“I will show you,” I said simply and as we were about to go up a small slope, I went ahead and offered her my hand to steady her.
“And my name's Kai, nothing more,” I added, hand extended to her.
I found a smile, then, trying to reassure her, that with me, she was safe, from plunder or from danger.
I knew it was a hard thing to instill in a captive, but it was there, all the same.
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Post by Grace Ouilet on Jul 26, 2011 13:04:04 GMT -5
He smiled, and mayhap I should have been leery, but I couldn't bring myself to be. I was too tired, perhaps, both physically and mentally, but I found myself taking his hand and moving up the slope next to him. He saw me as a delicate thing, I supposed, not at all desirably hardy like the Skaldi women were, but that too I didn't care about.
"Thank you," I murmured, soft, but my voice was steady, not quivering. Silence surrounded me.. I didn't know what to say. What did one speak about with someone who was being nice, even cordial, after an attack on his village? My mind still swam with the vision of Marcel, of him being hurt, and my tongue was thick. Truly, I was not thinking as sharply as I normally did.
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Post by Kai “Ill-Begotten” Ungewollt on Jul 26, 2011 16:28:24 GMT -5
She looked as though she might be ill – and she was a quiet one, one to do what she was told, quietly. I could understand that, more than I would have wanted to admit.
“You're welcome,” I said patiently.
For a while, I remained silent, guiding her to the places where most usually picked berries.
“You look ill,” I finally uttered quietly. “Has Marta been mistreating you?”
I could not do much about it if she had – but knowing would perhaps allow me to help her in another way.
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Post by Grace Ouilet on Jul 27, 2011 11:05:48 GMT -5
We walked for a time, silent save for our footfalls. I carried a wicker basket on my arm, surprisingly finely woven, and I wondered bitterly if it was something stolen from Terre d'Ange.
When he spoke again, it surprised me enough that I jumped a little, my eyes darting up to his. "Mistreating? Oh, no, she's not struck me or worked me any harder than she works. She doesn't really talk to me, to be honest. Falki and the children talk to me more, and that's only when Falki is even around and acknowledges my presence." Not that I was complaining. I gave Kai a halfhearted smile to show I wasn't ill-tempered. "I'm not sick, either.. just tired. It was a long night," I added a bit lamely, as if he didn't know how long the night was.
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Post by Kai “Ill-Begotten” Ungewollt on Jul 27, 2011 11:13:18 GMT -5
“Ja, the night was long,” I replied on a similar tone. “I was relieved that they did not come further into our lands – though I was ready to die defending the women and children.”
I stayed quiet another while, because the question was brewing in me, and I was fairly sure of my answer.
“Did you know the dark-haired girl, Arianna?”
She left, and I suspected it was high time she had – she was rebellious and full of spite, and had a spirit about her that remained unbroken, unlike, it seemed, this Grace that was with me.
Or rather... in a very different way.
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Post by Grace Ouilet on Jul 27, 2011 11:18:06 GMT -5
"Arianna? I've met her once," I added. Come to think of it, I hadn't seen her since the battle, and either she escaped, or.. or..
"She's not dead, is she?" I asked, my eyes widening as I looked up to the face of the rustic man.
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Post by Kai “Ill-Begotten” Ungewollt on Jul 28, 2011 14:01:05 GMT -5
“I don't think so, no,” I replied quietly. “I think she did exactly what she wanted to do, all this time. It just so happened that she had an opportunity.”
I wasn't sure how I felt about it – it was a strange mix of emotions, relief, sadness, understanding, too.
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Post by Grace Ouilet on Aug 3, 2011 17:19:16 GMT -5
I nodded, ducking my head a little as I mulled the information over. Gods, but what would I give to get away? To see Miryelle again, to be free, to hold my little girl in my arms and flee this accursed lands...! But how could I talk about such? I couldn't, and I wouldn't.
"Are you angry with her?" I asked quietly, trying to understand him, to feel him out on this matter.
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Post by Kai “Ill-Begotten” Ungewollt on Sept 25, 2011 17:12:54 GMT -5
Grace's question was tricky – but what did I risk, if I spoke the truth of my heart? Her word against mine? It was a slim chance to take.
“Should I be angry, if my bird flies free?” I asked, my voice quiet. “And is one angry at the doe for grazing, or at the trees for growing?”
The answer seemed obvious enough to me.
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