8th Cylus, 718
The storm was raging, like nothing she had ever heard and Faith had to admit that it was a little frightening. The winds howled and hailstones the size of children's marbles battered the house. When Padraig had gone out and closed the shutters earlier, battening down the hatches he said, he'd come back in looking battered himself. The howling of the wind had unnerved Cosmo who had growled at it, but the thunder and lightning had scared the great big scared beast to the point that he'd hidden under the table. Quattro, meanwhile, had simply made herself scarce. Starr and Nova, the wolf pups who had arrived when Noah and Madison had, were inside the crib with the twins. Faith was vaguely disconcerted by this, but the twins, despite the flashes of lightning which had lit up the house even through the shutters and curtains, had remained asleep all curled up together there. It was the first time that the wolves had got into the crib with them, but Faith couldn't bring herself to move them.
In all nineteen of her arcs, she'd never experienced a storm like it. What had truly unnerved her was when Cyrus, Padraig's grandfather, said that neither had he. The temperature had plummeted, snow and ice were half way up the side of the house and Faith was very pleased that everyone had nightclothes made to keep them warm, using the technique she had worked out. This evening, as the shutters had rattled and the very rafters of the roof had shaken or so it sounded like, Faith had been working on a crocheted draught excluder using that technique. Initially, she'd thought that it would make no difference, because it wasn't clothing, but filling it with orange sand meant that the cold air which might get through also might get warmed. It made sense and Faith had worked as hard as she could to make sure that their home was warm and comfortable.
Which meant that their bed was warm, even with just a single sheet if they wished it and he would be warm in even thin cotton pajamas. Still, she considered as she frowned and pulled herself close to him, it was unusual to feel like this. Like they were on a floor or hard surface - not an unusual feeling for the former slave, the arcs she'd slept on a floor counted many more than first a mattress on the floor in her storage cupboard room at Tristan's house or then his bed and then, in freedom, her own bed. The one bought for her by the man whose arms were around her now.
Sleep had not come easily to Faith that night, with the storm raging and the noise and the lightning flashing. Still, the familiar feeling of him, the well-known beating of his heart as she laid her head on his chest and the way he wrapped her up meant that she felt sleep overtake her. The twins would be awake in a break or two, she knew, wanting another feed and she needed to get some sleep - they were both exhausted but happily so.
Until, that was, they woke up.
She didn't wake as quickly as him but his urgent whisper of her name was enough. Was it the twins? "What?" She sat up and her expression went from tired and confused to something much more basic and fundamental. Fear. They were in a cell. On the floor in a cell. How? How did that happen? Wide awake now, eyes showing the fear bordering on terror she felt, Faith looked around. In the first trill that she realised that the twins weren't with them she felt relief overwhelm her as she recognised that here was not a good place to be. Yet there was something which came immediately after that relief and it, too, was much more primal. "The babies? Where are the babies?" Scrambling up, Faith was wearing nothing but a short white strappy night shift, but she didn't need to. Her feet were bare and her hair loose and she looked at him as she felt the panic rise and her breath start to catch in her chest.
"Are you hurt? Do you know what happened? Did you hear anything?" She was not, did not and could not she told him. Then, after examining the room, she moved over to the bars taking up one wall. "I know this place," she said. "It's where Alexander kept me." Her voice shook and she felt herself start to shiver, though the cold did not bother her. "Padraig? I.. " She didn't finish her sentence, simply because she had no words to say.
And around them, the worst storm Scalvoris had ever seen raged. This high in the mountains, it was worse.
In all nineteen of her arcs, she'd never experienced a storm like it. What had truly unnerved her was when Cyrus, Padraig's grandfather, said that neither had he. The temperature had plummeted, snow and ice were half way up the side of the house and Faith was very pleased that everyone had nightclothes made to keep them warm, using the technique she had worked out. This evening, as the shutters had rattled and the very rafters of the roof had shaken or so it sounded like, Faith had been working on a crocheted draught excluder using that technique. Initially, she'd thought that it would make no difference, because it wasn't clothing, but filling it with orange sand meant that the cold air which might get through also might get warmed. It made sense and Faith had worked as hard as she could to make sure that their home was warm and comfortable.
Which meant that their bed was warm, even with just a single sheet if they wished it and he would be warm in even thin cotton pajamas. Still, she considered as she frowned and pulled herself close to him, it was unusual to feel like this. Like they were on a floor or hard surface - not an unusual feeling for the former slave, the arcs she'd slept on a floor counted many more than first a mattress on the floor in her storage cupboard room at Tristan's house or then his bed and then, in freedom, her own bed. The one bought for her by the man whose arms were around her now.
Sleep had not come easily to Faith that night, with the storm raging and the noise and the lightning flashing. Still, the familiar feeling of him, the well-known beating of his heart as she laid her head on his chest and the way he wrapped her up meant that she felt sleep overtake her. The twins would be awake in a break or two, she knew, wanting another feed and she needed to get some sleep - they were both exhausted but happily so.
Until, that was, they woke up.
She didn't wake as quickly as him but his urgent whisper of her name was enough. Was it the twins? "What?" She sat up and her expression went from tired and confused to something much more basic and fundamental. Fear. They were in a cell. On the floor in a cell. How? How did that happen? Wide awake now, eyes showing the fear bordering on terror she felt, Faith looked around. In the first trill that she realised that the twins weren't with them she felt relief overwhelm her as she recognised that here was not a good place to be. Yet there was something which came immediately after that relief and it, too, was much more primal. "The babies? Where are the babies?" Scrambling up, Faith was wearing nothing but a short white strappy night shift, but she didn't need to. Her feet were bare and her hair loose and she looked at him as she felt the panic rise and her breath start to catch in her chest.
"Are you hurt? Do you know what happened? Did you hear anything?" She was not, did not and could not she told him. Then, after examining the room, she moved over to the bars taking up one wall. "I know this place," she said. "It's where Alexander kept me." Her voice shook and she felt herself start to shiver, though the cold did not bother her. "Padraig? I.. " She didn't finish her sentence, simply because she had no words to say.
And around them, the worst storm Scalvoris had ever seen raged. This high in the mountains, it was worse.