Small steps

[Faith Augustin]

122nd Vhalar, 716

She had woken that morning, or more precisely, she had been awake that morning as the sunlight peeked through the window, having not slept at all for the entire night. She had, in fact, lain awake and tried not to move, so that she did not disturb her bed-partner as she lay, perched as close to the edge of the bed as possible without falling off. If she was entirely honest, Faith was of the opinion that Padraig had done exactly the same, but when she had asked him that morning how he had slept, his response had been that he'd slept just fine. He was not the best liar, she concluded quickly. But then, she'd replied the same and she suspected that he didn't believe a word of it either.

However, early that morning she had gotten up, tried to make herself somewhat presentable (a difficult task when she had slept in the clothes which had been damp and she had worn the trial before) and gone to see her former owner, Tristan. She and he had engaged in an emotional discussion, and one which Faith had really not expected to have. Then, she had gone to see Lady Elyna and her husband, Lord Krome. She and Lady Elyna had gone on a mission and then, after she had popped in to work and then back to Tristan's house to pick up her things, Faith had gone next to the library for her usual book hunt and then, finally, stopped off at the marketplace, because there were very few things that she could do, but there was one and she had to do something.

So, she arrived back at the house and she tapped on the door, as she always did. It didn't occur to her that she might have just walked in, because it simply didn't. But when he opened the door, there was a very different-looking young woman. Dressed in sensible flat shoes, hair brushed and tied back out of the way and with a long black dress, a warm top over it and a cloak around her, she smiled in greeting. She wore no make up, and was also more or less laden down with bags, similarly to when she had arrived with the cooking utensils and ready to experiment with raising agents. But she smiled at him with pleasure as he opened the door and she unceremoniously handed him the first bag.

"I have my clothes and material and things and books from the library and I bought food for a special meal which I would like to cook for you if I might? Please?" Handing over first one bag, then another, she picked up the third and took it in with her. "How was your trial?" She asked, looking at him with concern shining in her silver eyes "You look tired. I lied to you this morning and I don't want to lie to you. Of all the people in my life, I don't want to lie to you, so I am sorry. I laid there and I tried to not disturb you and pretended to sleep so that you would not worry." Holding out the third bag, as he took it she just kept hold of the handle for a moment so that their hands were close together,almost touching and stuck there by the bag and its weight between them. Her finger moved, briefly, to touch his hand. A tiny gesture, but all she had to give right now and she hoped he understood. "But you worried anyway, didn't you? I worried about you and you about me, so perhaps we should just admit that much, right now. Right now, it's all I can do, but it is true, so I don't want to pretend it isn't. If I'm free, then I am free to be who I am, not who I think you want me to be. So, I admit that I worried about you all night." Would there be more to admit later? Maybe. But she didn't like keeping things from him and so she looked him in the eye and let go of the bag.

"How was your trial?" It was a repetition, she knew, but she couldn't deal with any more emotional discussion straight away, so factual was good. He had hoped to buy things, she recalled, but there were money things to talk about too. "I would like to talk through things that have happened to-trial with you, if you don't mind? For both of us." Small steps, after all.

purchases!

Rack of Prime Lamb: 2lb =8gn
Standard lamb for making gravy/ stock / jus: 2lb: 4gn
Pistachios: 12sn (1lb)
Garlic Clove: 8cn
4 x potatoes 20cn
Salt 1sn
Cauliflower: 2cn
2 x Parsnip: 4cn
2 x sweet potatoe: 4cn
1 x turnip: 3cn
1 x sprig of mint 1gn
2 x oz chive 1gn

Total 15gn 6sn 8cn (16gn deducted, cos she's not used to haggling... yet)

[Padraig]

It had been a long trial, following a lengthy night, and Padraig had barely slept. The morning had come early and he'd found himself teetering on the edge of the bed, knuckles to the floor, after having drifted off just a short time before. For most of the night he'd been keenly aware of Faith's presence in the bed, in spite of her efforts to pretend she wasn't there. A warmth and scent that were hers alone made him restless, and made him question the practicality of being gentleman and friend, when mind and body disagreed so heartily. Even when he'd drifted off, off and on, it was never a sleep that let him forget.

But she was out early and so was he. Off to class at university, where the professor's voice had droned on in a haze, and words on the page were fuzzy at best. Then to work, then again, off to the market with a shopping list that wasn't at all in his realm of expertise. He'd been home for some time however, before she knocked on the door. He'd gotten a fire started in the hearth among other things, and set a teakettle on to boil. He'd thought she'd just walk right in when she got back. But of course she didn't. Old habits were hard to break. And there'd been expectations in place that were no longer. That would change, he hoped.

He'd just opened the door, smiled, and hardly had time to speak before she handed him a bag, then another as he moved out of the way. He'd sat them down to take the third, but then she paused. Both of them did with the thing suspended between them. And there was that touch, so brief that he might have imagined it or thought it inadvertent. But the look in Faith's eyes said it wasn't. There was a message there, one he'd like to interpret in a particular way. The thought warmed him in a way the fire in the hearth couldn't do. And yet, while Padraig's own glance spoke volumes, they were words he didn't. Not yet. He knew what he was feeling. But it seemed unfair when freedom was such a new reality for her. He wouldn't take advantage. She lied to him about the night? So had he and he grinned, however slightly.

"I worried, yes," he admitted. "and my mind tossed and turned, even if I tried to remain still." But they should talk, he agreed. And he'd let her fix a meal if she wanted. Left to him, they'd be dining on eggs and fried bread. He couldn't cook much else with any degree of skill. But strange, he'd been living alone ever since coming to the city and hadn't been particularly lonely. And yet, her presence seemed to fill the small house again in a way it had been lacking, just before she arrived. "You've gotten sorted what you needed to?" he asked.

"My trial was long. I went to class, to work. But first..." Before talking, before eating, he meant. "There's something I want to show you." The common area of the house seemed changed. She might not have noticed in the process of coming in but now there was fabric draped on rods, separating off a corner of the house. He picked up the bags and walked over, pushing aside the edge of the curtain and urging her to follow him. Behind it was a makeshift room. Not large, but large enough to accommodate a bed and a large, upright wardrobe. The the bed was made, if not tidily, with pillows and sheets, and there was a thick, warm blanket folded at its foot. "It's not much, I know," he admitted. "But it's yours. And this too," he added and pulled a key from his pocket that he'd had made for her, earlier than trial. "No more knocking. I told you, this is your home for as long as you'd like it to be."

[Faith Augustin]

She wasn't sure what his expression meant when she spoke about having worried about him last night. He didn't respond, not at first, but his face took on a softer look, a very different one, and she wondered if it might mean what she thought it did. It was very complicated and totally out of her experience; interpreting what the intense expression on his face meant was tricky and not at all straightforward. Because there was a whole new person to think about, she realised, and that person was her. It wasn't just about interpreting his expressions and working out what he wanted from her in that moment, it was about her emotions, what she wanted and needed and how she felt. Immortals, but that was doubling who she had to take into account and consider at any given moment. It was the focusing on any part of what she wanted that she found difficult and she knew she had to get used to it, so she more than appreciated the space he was giving her.

A meal, though, that was a much more certain and sure prospect and she beamed "Thank you! I thought we could dine on lamb baked in a garlic and pistachio crust with chive potatoes and roasted root vegetables served with a mint gravy. I hope you like all those things?" There were a lot of things about him that she simply didn't know and if he didn't like lamb, she'd have to do something else. She could manage to whip up something, she was sure and yes, she told him, she had gotten sorted what she needed to. "It's been a difficult trial, if I'm honest. I'm glad to be home", she'd tell him more later, but he had something to show her and Faith walked with him and wondered, immediately, how she hadn't noticed these curtains before.

It had, indeed, been a difficult trial but when he pulled the curtains back she stood stock still and looked at the space he had made for her. A bed, just for her and a place to put her things and all in a space which was his but he was just sharing with her without asking anything back? It was like she simply couldn't hold back any more and she felt the hot tears sting her eyes then run down her face. Not much? How he could even suggest that she did not know and she shook her head as she wiped at her eyes with a white lace handkerchief which she pulled from her pocket. "Not much?", her whispered voice was heavy with the emotions that she felt "It's a palace." Turning to look at him she dropped her gaze to the key and stared at it with complete incomprehension.

"He signed the papers", that was good; it was factual, clear and direct. She liked that right now, it helped her to calm the tears that were spilling over, to get herself under control as she took the key from him "And said I could keep my clothes and that he was going to give me money. I said no. His cousin, the one who wrote the letter, refunded him the money he paid for me, so he said I should have that. We agreed to toss a coin and I lost. So, I have two hundred and seventy five gold nell plus another thirty four that I had from that ship to Ne'haer", or at least that was what was left from the money now that she'd bought the foodstuffs. "I want to contribute, not be a drain. A partner. If it's going to be home then it should be ours and I can't just mooch off you, and I would like it to be ours. If you don't mind that is", small steps indeed, but movement forward nonetheless.

However, none of that was what was really on her mind. What she actually wanted to talk about, or in fact one of two things, came to light with her next words. "He told me he loves me and that I can always go home. He want me to." She gave a sigh and looked at him, seeking an answer in his expression "I don't understand any of it and I have all of these feelings flying around and not one of them make sense. I told him I love him too, because I do, I am so very grateful to him, but I don't love him like that. Not like he wants me to. So I explained I didn't know what kind of love it was, like a sibling or a friend or a lover, and it's all just too much to be thinking about", it was strange to admit but it was and as she realised it there was almost a release of pressure on her temple, a headache which had been building since she left Tristan's house the night before "He said he'd like to meet you, too, to thank you. Should I be worrying about him? I am, because I've hurt him by wanting to be free and now by not being in love with him. I don't want to hurt him, Padraig. I don't want to hurt anyone. Is freedom always this complicated? I don't know what to do"

[Padraig]

Home. Padraig liked the sound of it, their home, far more than he'd ever have thought he might. Whether she intended it for the short or the long term, he couldn't bring himself to ask. Maybe she didn't know herself. He'd grown accustomed to living alone, with just his needs to consider. But he knew it would seem lonelier than it had been before, was she to choose leaving.

"Some of them I haven't had before. Pistachio, mint gravy. But it sounds wonderful," he told her. Faith would discover over time that while he tended to eat simple, straightforward things, it was a more a result of his poor cooking skills, rather than taste. Savory before sweet, and he'd tell her eventually that there were few things he didn't care for at all. Sprouts though, they looked alien coming from the ground on their stalks and smelled funny while cooking.

But were they tears come of happiness? Or confusion? Padraig's experience with women to now had been gained through brief interactions, of the physical kind. They couldn't nearly be considered meaningful connections or relationships. And while he was familiar with particular wiles, deeper emotional responses, those of women in particular, were foreign to him. Unfortunate that such things couldn't be quantified and measured through scientific calculations. He'd have had an easier time. Still, he smiled a little.

"A palace? Not exactly. But I wanted you to have some privacy here, and a space of your own," he said. "Actually, I've been considering for some time, having another room built on to the house. But this ought do for now? And it's your key," he said as she stared, not understanding the offering. "For the door. If it's to be your home as much as mine, it won't do to have you knocking every time you come in."

He'd like to have argued that she should keep her money, and let him handle their expenses for a while. He could afford it, and it would allow her time to get steady on her feet and not worry so much about nels. He considered it, not speaking for a few seconds, but then realized that for her, it was about more than money. It was about independence, self reliance. Padraig couldn't rob her of that, so he reluctantly agreed. He suspected he'd have lost the argument anyway.

But when she told him of her conversation with her former master, Padraig fell silent again for a moment. Right. So this wasn't the best time to tell her that he'd come to have feelings for her that transcended tutor and student, good friends, or even family. And then hope that maybe she felt a little of the same. He knew it already. But it was a reminder not unlike a splash of cold water to the face. Now he knew exactly what the old alchemist meant. Patience was a virtue. It was also damned inconvenient in his opinion. "It's natural to worry." Or he assumed it would be. "In a sense, he's relied on you, just as you've relied on him. He'll adjust I'm sure."

"I'm not sure he'd like to thank me. But if he wants to meet, if it's what you want, then I'm willing," he told her. After all, Faith had left the man's house and come to his to remain overnight. If it was him? He wasn't so sure he'd be wanting to thank the other party. "A free life is often complicated, yes. Matters of the heart, even more so. But always worthwhile," he added at the last, coming as close as he would in that moment, in a roundabout, general seeming way, to admitting to feelings of his own.

[Faith Augustin]

"Another room?" Looking at where he gestured, it made sense and there was space there. It was logical, certainly and she was about to say so when he explained what the key was, what it was for and there was no explanation available at that point, because all she got out was "I'm sorry, I can't stop. But I'm happy. Happy tears", or as good an approximation of those words as she could get around the sniffling and gasping for even breaths. "I never cry", she gulped, hiccupped and tried to say it clearly but really if he understood her it was more by luck than lucidity on her part. Trying desperately to gain some kind of control she stood and walked over to the bags she had brought with her. Rummaging in one she came back over with a small bag of pistachios in her hand and offered it out to him "Try one of these. They're pistachios." That, at least, allowed her a few trills in walking there and back, to get herself under control. "If you'd like to, I mean. But then if you don't like them, I can change the menu. They are a kind of nut, don't eat the shell" Forcing herself to calm, she breathed in and almost literally swallowed the emotions she was feeling, holding them down because she was becoming more and more sure that, if they escaped fully then she would never put them back.

When she told him about what Tristan had said, though, Padraig's face changed and Faith looked at him with a curious expression. Had she said something wrong, she wondered and she played the conversation back in her mind. No she'd been clear she was sure and Padraig had been emphatic that this was a place she could stay now. Her home, he'd said it. Maybe that was why he was quiet suddenly, she thought and explained in a gentle tone, "I didn't mean to imply that I don't feel at home here. Nothing is further from the truth, please believe that. When I said he wants me to go home, that's what he called it and it was my home since he bought me." She sighed in frustration at herself for not managing to say what she was trying to say clearly. Which apparently she also managed with the next thing, so she explained further.

"That's what he said", she remembered it clearly "That you let me in and helped me and he should thank you." Those had been his words, she was sure and she looked at Padraig with complete incomprehension as to why he would think for a trill that Tristan wouldn't want to meet him. It was all just so complicated and messy to begin with that, the more she tried to unpick it, the more complicated it seemed to become. "I'm sorry, I'm not good at this, not at all. I wanted to clarify things, not make them more difficult. So, lets go tomorrow and see about getting that room put on and as long as it isn't more than", she did some quick calculations in her head and then smiled "Six hundred and eighteen gold and", fishing it from her pocket, she placed a copper on the table between them "two coppers, then we go half each. That way, it's ours." Back to logistics and clear calculations, things that she could even make a joke about, that worked. But it was important that she gave in symbols what she could not speak in words or show in actions. He probably wanted no such thing and she was just misreading the whole situation, she considered, like a good friend or older brother, no matter what he said about matters of the heart. Speaking of which.

"Always worthwhile?" She smiled as she asked that, her gaze fixing on his and just doing her best to focus her mind on one thing at a time "Do you promise?" Leaning forward, she picked up the bag of pistachios and stood, moving to put them out in the cooking area. What would he think of the idea of getting the room on the house, she wondered. It made sense to her and it allowed her to show that she wasn't taking advantage, that she was here because here was where she wanted to be and that they could work together, however that turned out looking.

[Padraig]

If he'd known that telling her about the room would bring about another round of tears, he might have waited till next trial. Not that Padraig minded he tears, he recognized them for what they were. A sign of being overwhelmed, and he'd only misjudged just how overwhelmed she was. And he didn't want to be the cause of more confusion. Nuts though. Nuts were safe. He took one of them, examined it, and pried it open with the edge of his thumb. And he considered the taste and texture. "It's sort of chewy. Do they crisp up when they're cooked?" he wondered. But he liked the taste, and told her so.

What her former master had said and what he meant, might be two different things entirely. He didn't know the man well enough to know. In fact he didn't know him at all. Padraig wouldn't argue the point. In fact, it occurred to him that his suspicions might be colored by his own feelings for her, and how he might respond under similar circumstances. "Don't apologize," he told her. "You're not making anything difficult. Nothing at all." But he smiled curiously while she pulled her money out, counted it nel by nel and placed it between them on the table. He shook his head in wonder. But then he knew that for her, it was more than about the money.

"It's ours, regardless. And you keep your money. I don't think it will be that much, but when we find out, we can settle it then." Now then, this other matter, these matters of the heart. Worthwhile? "Yes, I believe so. At least I'd very much like to. This...Some things are new to me too," he admitted.

[Faith Augustin]

"Well, when I use the phrase 'garlic and pistachio crust', I suppose I mean more of a garlic and pistachio squidgy paste. Maybe an oozing slime", her expression told him that she wasn't at all serious of course, as she replied to his question about the pistachio. "Of course it does. I'm going to chop them then coat them in a butter emulsion, which will then crisp up during the cooking. You know, you can use pistachios in sweet or savory. I think you might like some of the less sweet desserts better. Like lemon tart or pistachio ice cream. Not too sweet. Chewy, indeed. Everyone's an expert." She grinned at him and then a realisation hit her and her expression turned much more serious, bordering on unhappy. "We won't have lessons any more. But I loved our lessons, they were the highlight of the trial. Oh, and what if I'm home when Tabitha's here? Oh you can imagine her disgust? Such distaste, but she'll assume that I'm here because I'm your slave. She wouldn't hear differently, so it will all make sense." It was an uncharitable thing to think, but Faith considered that, should he have a lesson with Tabitha planned when she was home then she might find an excuse, any excuse to get out of there.

He understood the point about the money, she thought, although he told her to keep ahold of it until they knew. She nodded her head and smiled. That he understood the gesture was enough, although she highly doubted that she wasn't making anything difficult, but she kept quiet on that.

It was a moment of clarity for her, though, when he replied to her request for him to promise her that it was worthwhile. Standing where she was, she started to pull out the ingredients for the meal and she looked down at her hands. "I know." She couldn't say more than that, so she turned to look at him and held up a parsnip. "Want to help me? I'll show you how to prepare these properly. Only if you want to, though." She smiled at him and hoped that he understood that, right in this moment, she couldn't deal with any more than they had. Small steps, but she was starting to believe that at least they were both moving in the same direction. With that in mind, she'd get started on the meal for the two of them and put the rest out of her mind until another time. There was more she had to say, but right now she was too emotional to do so, instead she chose to focus on peeling parsnips. As she realised that she could choose to do that, because she wa a free woman and made her own choices, Faith smiled.

[Rei]

Name: Faith

Knowledge:
Padraig: Not a good liar
Detection: Spotting a lie
Cosmetology: Making the day before’s outfit presentable
Psychology: Not lying to those you care for
Psychology: Admitting vulnerability
Padraig: Worried about you
Padraig: Made you a room
Psychology: Interpreting someone’s look
Philosophy: Is freedom complicated?
Padraig: Easy to please with food
Discipline: Controlling your emotions
Cooking: Butter emulsion
Cooking: Making a crispy crust
Cooking: Peeling parsnips

Loot: Please deduct the ingredients from your ledger if you haven’t already.
Injuries: N/A
Fame: +1 cooking a meal

Story: 5
Collaboration: 5
Structure: 5

Name: Padraig

Knowledge:
Cooking: Boiling water for tea
Faith: Old habits die hard
Faith: Lied about sleeping
Psychology: Interpreting someone’s look
Faith: Fills your home
Faith: Freedom papers signed
Faith: Gets to keep clothes
Faith: Was given nel
Faith: Loves Tristan
Tristan: Loves Faith
Faith: Worried about Tristan
Philosophy: Free life is always worthwhile
Discipline: Controlling your feelings
Tristan: Wants to meet and thank you
Faith: Doesn’t like Tabitha
Tabitha: Doesn’t like Faith

Loot: Please deduct the furniture and curtains from ledger if you haven’t already.
Injuries: N/A
Fame: +2 giving Faith a room

Story: 5
Collaboration: 5
Structure: 5

Comment:
What a sweet and teary thread! These two are adorable together and Faith is absolutely adorable as she tries to understand her freedom and the fact that she is free to have her feelings. Padraig is being super patient, what a sweetheart. You work so well together and the writing is very lovely. Keep up the good work!

If you feel that I've missed anything or have any questions or comments, please PM me!