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Post by evendar on Oct 25, 2007 20:00:06 GMT -5
Narna bit her lower lip and frowned. This cluster of rocks seemed deserted. She had hoped to find a place alone so she could let out her frustration. She felt this... rage, and anger, and fear since that sharding flight. Her entire mind threw itself into constant turmoil over the tiniest things, and she didn't know how to make it stop.
She pulled the long sleeved tunic down further over the bruises on her wrists. She'd found a way to hang her hair that it covered the large yellowing bruise on her cheek quite nicely. And the bruises on her legs and hips were easily hid. She felt like she was covering up something she'd done wrong. After all she'd tried to take her irritation at her brothers on that sharding man. And what had she gotten? Her innocence destroyed and her very body marred by his heavy hand. She didn't even move the tears this time as they fell onto her clenched hands. She sat on a rock and stared at the ground between her feet, watching as drop after drop of salty tears watered the earth.
Why had this happened to her? She wish she knew. All she did know was that not only did N'vis get the dragon, now he was the whole sibling as well. He hadn't been raped, he was perfectly fine with his dainty little green and her constant need for care and dotage. And what did the sharding idiot do when he faltered? Turned to his sister of course. Yes, even then she envied N'vis and his luck. He had a dragon, he had friends, and he was even starting to come out of his shell as Reenith grew steadily stronger. But she, Narna had built up herself a wall to protect from the hurt her brother had inadvertently caused her buy Impressing first.
And now that wall prevented her from telling him what had happened. "Oh I just fell down the stairs to the Docks after the flight." was her response to his queries. And he'd taken that answer and drunk it up like mum's milk. He didn't even dig, the old N'vis would have dug and dug at her until she broke down and shouted in his face that he was a sharding idiot and should just leave her alone. Then she'd calm down almost instantly and tell him everything. Everything, everything.
But now she couldn't even do that. She had no one to talk to anymore. And without a dragon she felt truly alone. Why couldn't they both have been riders at the same time? Narna needed the reassurance that a strong draconic mind could have given her. But she was alone. More alone now than she had ever been. Even after her mother died. She had had Nevis then. Now he was a dragonrider, and they were separated by more than she could have ever expected.
The tears came faster as she tried harder to make them stop. What was wrong with her? She was Narna, she was strong and proud. She didn't break down and cry, that was N'vis. She was supposed to be the big sister, the one who led the way. And here she was, alone, and crying. How was she supposed to fix this.
Letting out a roar of anger she kicked at a rock, listening as it crashed through the jungle. She couldn't take it! Why was she the one who got the short end? N'vis got the attention, N'vis got the dragon, N'vis got the support. She was supposed to make it on her own, be the strong one.
Well what if she didn't want to be the strong one? What if she merely wanted to be supported, to be comforted, to be loved? She began to rip and tear at the vegetation around her. Clawing at it like a Southern feline. She let out roar after roar of frustration and guilt. How could she have let this happen? How could she have been so stupid? Her roars turned to sobs as her taring became ripping, then flailing as her wall finally crumbled and Narna fell with it. She collapsed to the slightly damp earth with a sob and cried.
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Post by covera on Oct 26, 2007 5:26:28 GMT -5
Covera was walking through the jungle accompanied by one of her fire lizards, the bronze Erro, so that she could be alone with her thoughts. It was strange seeing seeing her knots only with a single loop, marking her as a candidate. It would take some getting used to, not being a harper, only a candidate but she hoped that she wouldn't have to stay a candidate for too long. Suddenly the harper-turned-candidate heard a roar of frustration coming from somewhere near her. Erro who had been lying on Covera's shoulder, fast asleep, fell off Covera's shoulder with a start. Chirping angrily the bronze flew up again so he could settle on his favourite spot again. Covera paid the antics of her fire lizard no heed but listened to more roars and began to move steadily nearer the roars, her curiosity now awakened.
Finally she saw a lone figure of a girl sitting on rock. She had stopped roaring apperantly to Erro's relief and had taken to sobbing instead. Covera sighed, now she would have to go see what was wrong and she was really no good at comforting people. Before Covera had the oppurtunity to approach the girl, the rock crumbled and the girl fell to the earth. To continue to cry.
Erro looked reproachfully at Covera, encouraging her to go and comfort the girl, what was she waiting for anyway? "You're right Erro," Covera said with a sigh and walked to the girl. Erro settled on the ground near Narna and chirped anxiously, was she allright? "Are you all right girl?" Covera asked tentatively. She was really no good at this sort of thing.
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Post by evendar on Oct 27, 2007 20:45:18 GMT -5
Shards. Why did someone have to walk in now? "I'm fine. I just slipped is all." she said angrily, wiping away her tears. But they were followed almost instantly by new ones. Narna knew she wasn't fine, but she couldn't let anyone see her at her weekest. She bit her lower lip to stop from sobbing and dug her nails into her palm until it began to bleed. She tried to stand, but her legs wouldn't support her in her distraught state. Shards.
"I.. I uh... have to go." she stammered, trying to stand once more. She used a nearby tree, but still couldn't quite get to her feet. She sunk back to the ground, not caring anymore. Let this woman see her cry, she didn't care, C'leon had seen more. He had seen her at her weakest, this was most definitely not it. Her sobbing returned tenfold and she turned away from the other woman, she didn't need support. She didn't need pity. She needed to go back in time to stop that bastard from hurting her like this. She needed to take it all back. Her anger, her frustration, her pain.
But she couldn't. She was stuck with it all. Forced to bare it by herself because N'vis had to Impress first. She often told others and herself she didn't want one of the hatchlings from the last Impression, but that was a lie. She would give her heart and soul for a dragon in that instant. She needed someone who understood her without understanding her. She needed her brother. But he was with his dragon, and of course prescious Reenith came first.
Narna burried her head into her knees, pounding one fist weakly against the ground. Not caring what Covera did.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Oct 28, 2007 1:42:38 GMT -5
The scream shattered the boy's mental state, his eyes flaring open, wide and haunted. He was biding his time amidst the trees and making himself scarce. Who knew when Bitra might try for him again? Now, though, Mutasim could only tremble at the raw emotion in that roar, the anger that echoed a great miasma of rage that lingered well beneath the surface of the boy's unflappable outward demeanor. It was instinct. Not once did a conscious thought filter through his mind, a thought that might have suggested what this roaring was about, or that it would be better for him to steer clear. A chord had been struck within him. As a moth to flame, the boy crept along the forest floor, a shadow amidst the shadows as he followed that cry to its source.
Sobbing drew him onward. Mutasim swallowed, the trembling now moving into something more tangible. From the dark depths of his eyes something burst. Fear. Anger. Sorrow. Shame. Regret. All the emotions that never made it into his eyes were suddenly peering out, dangerous now in that they had been contained for so long. He didn't notice the single tear that blazoned a trail down his olive-toned cheek. Didn't notice the tall harper that he passed as silently as a phantom might. Didn't really see Narna, or he might have remembered how much she had annoyed him, at the river, asking questions about the scars of his bondage. In his eyes this was Shitaki, the girl who had trusted him, who had been chained by his side in the gambling house, who had suffered with him and ended it all when it became too much. The one he'd had hope he might yet be able to save and who sustained him in his own hell - only to slip through his fingers at the last.
Mutasim sunk to his knees in the earth. Reaching out, his arms wrapped around Narna, surprisingly strong despite how small they were, his scarred wrists peeking out from his sleeves. He drew the older girl into his chest with a tightness that was at once gentle and protective. Pressing his cheek into her back - for he was such a small boy, despite his fifteen turns - the orphaned candidate felt her sobs move through him, generating some of his own. Her tunic grew damp beneath his face. Distantly, he knew this was not Shitaki, and even realized that it was Narna, but that no longer made a difference. His conscious may not fully understand. But his subconscious knew, as any who witnesses the signs of suffering that they themselves have endured, just what it was that was tearing the girl apart inside.
It was this part of Mutasim that murmured, softly, "When?"
Had he been in his right mind, he should never have reached out to the candidate in this way, exposing himself emotionally. He would never have touched a stranger like this. It would have shocked and frightened him. But Mutasim was not in his right mind. Or, perhaps, a chink had been found in the wall of indifference that he'd erected as protection, and this was truly his mind, this gentle spirit that - for just a few moments - shone through the stony facade.
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Post by evendar on Oct 29, 2007 20:10:31 GMT -5
Narna started when she felt arms wrap around her. But she almost instantly fell into them. It was that boy, the one she'd accidentally insulted. The one from Bitra. He cared. And while she knew in her rational mind her brother cared, and this woman cared, it was Mutasim's gentle embrace that moved her. She burried her head into his shoulder, wrapping her own arms about his waist in a desperate motion. She needed to be held, in that moment it was her greatest desire, to relive a subtle moment of her past, the time when her mother would hold her and tell her she'd be fine. This boy was nothing like her mother, not at all, but he was kind and caring enough to help her. And he knew what she'd been through.
"Flight..." she uttered, barely audible through her raking sobs. She burried her face further into his shoulder, knowing he was crying too, and not caring. Perhaps, perhaps in this moment they could gain strength from each other. And while her mind took solace from his presence, her body still felt the dull ache of C'leons rough body, the sharp jabs of its fading bruises, and the sting of her half healed cuts.
"I... I was so sharding stupid! I should... I should have known they would have been cruel and unforgiving, that... that he would. But I couldn't, couldn't let that bronzeriding bastard get away with... breaking into the Weyr like that." her words were chopped and broken from her sobs, but she had to say it, or it would never be real. It would never be what it was supposed to be. And she'd never be able to break away and heal from it. From being raped.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Oct 29, 2007 23:03:49 GMT -5
His arms had loosened slightly as she twisted, clinging to his waist and burying her face in his shoulder, only tightening again when she stopped moving. Narna. An older girl. Her hair a mass of reddened curls, this was not Shitaki or one of his den, but that no longer mattered to Mutasim. Some of the compulsion was gone, but now that she was in his arms, he could hardly turn his back upon her simply because she was stirring up the dangerous emotions he'd suppressed for so long. His face had fallen back into its impassive mask. Tears, though, continued to rebel against his control. He marvelled at the wetness upon his face with a curious detachment. And the eyes, as they looked over Narna's shoulder, fell on Covera with the full force of the spirit inside of them - lost and aching and fiercely protective of the creature suffering in the circle of his arms. This was the Bitran den leader who had ruled his small portion of the streets until the Bitran lord grew jealous of the few souls outside his control.
The Flight. Mutasim may not have taken an active role in watching everything that occured, but he had already befriended many of the older drudges - older women tended to find the small, solemn candidate cute - and was aware of the uninvited 'guest' who had shown up to chase Aslath. C'leon. His mind moved swiftly through her muffled words and put the pieces of the puzzle together. Infused with dragonlust, he must have snatched Narna...Mutasim's lip curled at the mere thought of bronzeriders. Some of Benden's had seen fit to visit Bitra. They were by far the worst of the lot, but they paid well, and were rarely barred from the gambling houses.
"Hush," he murmured, softly enough that only she could hear him. One hand had come up, smoothing back her hair rythmically, the small, delicate fingers gentle against her scalp. "It's over now. Hush." How many times had he comforted the band of orphans he led, just like this, when they awoke from a nightmare? When they returned to report another murdered? Another kidnapped? How many times had he yearned for just this sort of comfort throughout those long two turns? Her body trembling against his chest was an oh so familiar sensation, her anguish something he'd known throughout his life. And he cursed the parents that had brought him into a world like this and left him alone. It was a terrible, frightening place. If only he could help a few of the others who were forced to see just how horrible this life could get...
If only he could do that little bit, maybe his life was worth living. "It wasn't your fault, Narna. Never think that it was your fault," he whispered.
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Post by covera on Oct 30, 2007 12:52:57 GMT -5
Mutasim seemed to be coping quite nicely with Narna, and Covera knew that she could never be as successfull in comforting the girl as he was so she beckoned lightly to Erro to come to her. The little bronze flew to her without questioning her intentions and then the pair silently backed away to disappear into the trees.
((I think that might have been one of my shortest posts, but it only served the purpose of taking Covera out))
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Post by evendar on Oct 30, 2007 21:53:43 GMT -5
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I... I just can't stop!" the last word was uttered as almost a scream. Damn men and their constant need to do this to women. In that moment she hated everyone, even her brother. The only one who mattered was Mutasim, and though his words were soothing, and her rational mind agreed with him. Her subconscious denied it, and she continued to cry. She didn't even notice Covera's exit, her mind was questing for a light, something, anything to pull her from this pit of despair.
She remembered all the times she had been Mutasim, soothing her brother after he had fallen or done something stupid. But this was so different, she had never done the stupid things he did, nor did she wish too. But this, this transcended such trivial things as kissing the stable boy, or catching your parents while they made love. This was rape.
He said it wasn't her fault. But she had been there. She had thought she could take a Flight raged bronzerider. And one bonded to such a brute to. She had stayed, thinking he would hear her lip, but all he did was slap her, bruise her, and use her. She felt like a piece of dirt, no, like a grub. She wanted nothing more than to curl in a hole and die.
"But... but I.. I was there... and I didn't... didn't fight enough. I could have beaten him if... if I jus... just tried!" again the last word was an almost screech, her anger and fear coming back in an instant. her fingers clutched at the cloth on Mutasim's back, and she wished she could be strong enough to sit up without him, but her body was resisting her rational and conscious mind.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Oct 31, 2007 1:46:02 GMT -5
Always a quiet being, Mutasim found he didn't quite understand what drove Narna to scream, to wail. Maybe it was just a different lifestyle. He'd grown up with the certain knowledge that drawing attention to himself, especially to his weaknesses, was nothing short of foolishness. It was a death sentence. Somewhere in there, a loyalty to the other orphans had made him forget that little creedo, and his name became well-known. Folly. Still, even when the tears streaked down his face, the anger and shame burning him up inside, he had never screamed. Wailed. Cried out. The boy had never done any of those things even as he was used. It became a game with the 'patrons,' to see if they could draw anything out of him. A few had. In the beginning. Though it was only pain and shock that sparked a response from his throat.
She thought it was her fault. Had convinced herself as much. Shards, had Mutasim any desire, he might have his way with her, the boy thought dismally. Not that he ever would be capable of anything like that. It was doubtful he'd ever be capable of desire at all, given how it had been dirtied for him already at his age. It was the nature of man and woman that the male gender was so much stronger than the female. Even Mutasim's slight form had a great strength hidden within it. And he well knew that there were ways worse than violence to bring a woman into submission. Or a boy. How could she think that she could have escaped a great, monstrous cretin like C'leon?
Of course, he wasn't fool enough to say things quite as they came to his mind. That was unfeeling. And probably unsettling, too. If nothing else, Mutasim was certainly no fool. He'd continued to brush his fingers through her hair lightly, and had already spotted the bruise, but allowed his hand to move down her cheek gently. For the first time since he'd come upon her, the small boy met her gaze with his own, the often disdainful eyes shockingly gentle, probing as he gazed into eyes just as dark as his own, though her face was far paler and reddened from the weeping. He cupped her cheek lightly, careful to keep pressure off that spot, though she must know he'd seen it. "You didn't fight enough?" he repeated her words, oh so softly, the questioning tone quietly asking her what she thought was enough.
He'd seen submission. Acquiescence. Shards, he'd been there. You can only maintain your spirit for so long before the despair breaks over you. There was nothing about Narna or the bruises she sported that indicated that. And, even if there had been, Mutasim could hardly blame a person for freezing up in shock or trying to make it easier on themselves by not fighting. In many cases, it was the fighting that increased an attacker's desire. Why else would they have taken an unwilling subject to begin with? If nothing else, the boy was not hypocritical. His tone never lost it's softness. "It doesn't matter now. He hasn't won unless you let him change you. Don't let him win, Narna."
A stab of pain moved through him. Hadn't he changed? That was a nighttime, alone thought, there. Still it persisted. Always quiet and solemn, there was a darkness in his soul now that had never been there, even through all the turns of hardship on the streets. And he still couldn't abide even the most casual touch of a man. No. No more of that. "You are much braver than I ever was," Mutasim uttered, truthfully. "And we'll find a way to make him pay. You and I." His voice had hardened, the anger flashing in his gaze briefly, before he shunted that emotion away into the dark corner where all the others dwelt. Oh yes. C'leon would know fear. That, Mutasim was sure of.
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Post by evendar on Oct 31, 2007 20:40:44 GMT -5
As Mutasim's gentle hand cupped her bruised cheek lightly she gasped slightly, her sobbing halted the instant she looked in his eyes. He knew it, he knew what she'd been through, because he'd been through it himself. She suddenly felt her rapport with the younger boy grow to knew heights. She wasn't alone, someone cared, someone knew. In that moment she needed someone to understand her more than ever before, and Mutasim was the only one she knew could feel that way.
Don't let him win? He'd already won. He'd taken that which was her last gift of childhood. That thing she had wished to save till her strapping bronzerider had swept her off her feet. She hated to admit it, but she was a hopeless romantic, and dreamed of a strong bronzerider coming to her side and loving her forevermore. But... perhaps the younger boy had a point, she couldn't let C'leon have the pleasure of knowing she had broken down like this. She had to let him know she wasn't one of his broken queenriders, ready and waiting for his hard handed ways.
"Brave?" she uttered quietly when he mentioned it. She, she had been brave, to keep herself in such control as she left the Flightroom. In that moment she remembered something else. She had slapped him. She, Narna, Candidate of Selenitas Weyr had slapped the Benden Weyrleader. She was sure few women or men could claim that honor. She felt her pride repair itself a bit as she thought that. And despite the tears still rolling freely down her cheeks her lips quirked in a brief smile at the rarity of that privilege.
"I slapped the Benden Weyrleader." she uttered then. Her hand moved to her mouth in mild surprise as she let that thought fully sink in. Mutasim was talking of repayment. Perhaps, perhaps she could make him pay, and whomever had used Mutasim in that way as well. She finally felt strong enough to sit up, wiping her eyes on her sleeves as she did so. The tears still fell, but they were finally slowing down. For now. She had control of her body once more, and the pain and guilt she felt could be suppressed for another day or two. She looked at Mutasim's tear-stained and grip-wrinkled tunic and gave an apologetic smile. It didn't show in her eyes, but in truth, she didn't think she'd feel truly happy for a long, long time.
"I'm sorry. I ruined your shirt." she said haplessly, at a loss for how to thank this boy. They shared something now, and even if neither side wanted to admit it, they were something more. Narna didn't know if she would ever be able to trust herself to be in the same room with a man again, not even N'vis, but she might be able to confide in Mutasim. She still felt the anger and resentment boiling in her belly. But for now it was below the rim, able to be contained within herself till she couldn't take it anymore. "I, I lost control." she muttered, looking away. Her smiles gone and the bland polite face she had put up since that day back in place.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Nov 1, 2007 0:01:52 GMT -5
He noticed the shift come over her. Mutasim allowed her to pull back, even as he felt a stab of regret at having let yet another person in. When had he become so open? First Uu'n and Z'hin. Now Narna. None of these would tell of his secret, his shame, but still he railed inwardly against himself. Even three at Selenitas knowing was too many. Those were three people who would look upon him with pity, three people who would see him as something less than a man. Okay, so he wasn't a man just yet anyway, but still...No boy was meant to be used that way without his consent. And, though he did have something in common with Narna, they were not all that similar. She'd endured it once. He'd lived that life for two turns.
So she'd slapped him? Good for her. Mutasim forced himself to return from his brooding. In the end, it didn't really matter what other people thought of him, anyway. He was quite certain no one saw him as normal. The barest of smiles came to his face as she seemed to take solace in the fact that she'd laid hands on the Benden Weyrleader. That was more like it. "Well, I-" He was going to simply leave, now that she seemed alright, but then she spoke and Mutasim did something he hadn't in a very, very long time.
The boy chuckled. It was a quiet, almost peaceful sound beneath the trees.
"Don't worry, Narna," he said, the mirth still tingeing his voice. How could she think he'd care about a tunic? He hardly cared about anything, but he'd cared enough to comfort her, and that certainly took precedence over the condition of his garments. "It's not mine." Truth, that. Not a single thing Mutasim was wearing at the moment was his; he'd stolen everything, from the cloth wrapped loosely about his wrists to the boots encasing his small feet. In fact, everything was quite too large on him for that reason, making the already small boy seem spritely as he was lost in their folds.
A strange impulse struck him. Reaching beneath his tunic, he drew up a small ring on a ribbon. It was actually little more than twine. But that twine had once graced Shitaki's finger; it was the only thing he had left of her. Though he didn't mention the name that went along with the face that haunted his nightmares, didn't say anything about the small, seemingly valueless thing at all, the way he offered it to Narna conveyed just how important this small piece of his past was to him. "Please. Take it. She would want you to, I think."
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Post by evendar on Nov 1, 2007 6:49:08 GMT -5
He had a nice laugh. She thought to herself. He should use it more. And as much as she wished to return the laugh, she felt she couldn't. She wasn't happy enough to laugh. She thought it odd that he was wearing someone else's shirt. There weren't many guys out there wanting to share clothes, N'vis was of course, one of them.
Narna felt so odd taking a piece of string on a ribbon from the boy, but she took it into her hands non the less. She felt herself almost instantly reach a boiling point again. He wanted her to have something of his. Something he cherished. Tears returned to her dismay as she looked back at him.
"I can't, it must mean so much to you." why else keep a piece of string on a ribbon? She would want her to have it? What did that mean. Was it someone he'd known? She wished she knew, but she didn't have the heart to ask. Old Narna would have asked and prodded till she got it out of him. But things change.
Narna didn't know what to do. She felt so lost, so confused. It was terrible, and she hated it. She hated C'leon for making it happen like this. For changing her. She self consciously began to fix her hair to hide her bruise, putting on the act that she was fine once more. Anyone who had never met Narna before the Flight would find nothing to much out of place with her. And even those who had known her would only see a slightly more polite, slightly more wooden version of the old Narna. Inside she was reeling, but outside she couldn't let others see it.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Nov 1, 2007 15:33:51 GMT -5
He frowned slightly as he saw that she had begun to cry again. What was the matter? Only after she spoke did he realize that she was probably still too emotional for him to have given the strange gift to her just yet. He reached out a hand to cover hers, gently closing her fingers around the worthless bit of string that was in fact his most prized possession - albeit he didn't really have much of anything.
"Yes," he replied simply. "It does." And, because it meant so much to him, the thought of her rejecting it would greatly hurt Mutasim, who very rarely reached out to anyone as it was. His solemn eyes watched her carefully. Maybe she would understand if he told her just a little about it..."It belonged to one of the orphans I knew in Bitra. She liked the color. When - when the Bitran lord began rounding us up, she and I were sent together to the gambling house." He glanced down at his hands, remembering. "I thought that at least I could save her. But it was too much for Shitaki; she threw herself from the roof."
Even now, sharing something that personal with Narna, he was careful not to mention anything about leading a 'den,' as a group of orphans that banded together in Bitra was called. Nor did he speak of the way they'd had to resort to thieving when the Lordholder changed the laws and began selling the street children to the mines. Narna didn't need to know he was an outlaw. For her own sake, as well as his. He'd already involved two of the weyrlings in this problem.
Had anyone told Mutasim what he'd told the older girl, he would have known, intuitively, that the gift was a statement of intention. He'd failed with Shitaki. Now, maybe he could come just that little bit closer to forgiving himself, if he could protect Narna. She didn't know it, but she'd become part of what Mutasim still considered in the depths of his soul as 'his den.' These were the people he held tenaciously to, and would do anything for. Only two still alive fit that category at this time in his life.
He waited - his anxiety well-hidden - for Narna to accept or reject his offering.
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Post by evendar on Nov 1, 2007 18:07:31 GMT -5
Narna let her fingers close around the string. "I'll keep it then." she said meekly, staring at her closed fist. It really was a nice thing he'd done for her, but she felt like she was cheating him out of something special. She gasped, her bleary eyes widening as she groped momentarily within her shirt front.
"Here," she said, taking out a pair of rings on a gold chain. The first was her fathers, given to her by him as he died, telling her to be strong. The second was her mothers, taken from her cold fingers after finding her dead in their cot. She had cried then too, and hated herself all the more later when she had thought back on it. She took off her mothers ring from the chain. "This was my mothers, its not as special as this," she held up the string ring. "But it still means a lot to me. And this way, we both know we have someone to talk to. No matter what happens, where we go. We've got someone." she had N'vis of course, and she was sure Mutasim had someone too, a friend, perhaps a sibling of his own somewhere. But now they both had someone else, another person they could talk to about those people they were close to. Bonded by their joint trauma.
She'd get even with C'leon, if she had to, to steal a dragon egg from under his nose to do it. Not that such an outlandish and stupid thing would be possible. She wouldn't let him have the last word, the last motion. And that Bitran Lord, he'd pay to for hurting Mutasim like that. He was family now. Just like she had been entered into his inner circle, so too had she brought him in close to her heart.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Nov 1, 2007 19:59:44 GMT -5
Her little gasp, and the sudden groping at her chest, drew Mutasim's concerned gaze. Was she having trouble breathing? Had she been hurt internally? Before he could respond, however, he saw the golden chain. Any other boy might have noted how these rings proved she came from a better lifestyle than he and been upset or ashamed, but he wasn't that sort of person. Instead, Mutasim merely watched her solemnly as she removed one of them. He took the ring, rolling it between his fingers for a moment, before slipping it onto his second finger. He'd find a better place for it later. Now, though, he stood, taking her arm lightly in his grip to encourage her to her feet.
And now the difference between their heights would be all too obvious. It was an odd thing about this place, amongst many other odd things; Mutasim had grown up in a world where enough was rarely had, and most had been about his size. Everyone here seemed like a giant. Producing a flask from the folds of his clothing, he offered it to Narna. "Here. Wash your face." Nothing could erase the cast of leadership that had been burnt into him. Mutasim's dark eyes narrowed against the dimming light. "We'd best get back to the candidates' barracks. This place is dangerous at night." It was. Almost dangerous enough to drive him indoors when the men of the Bitran lord still posed a threat to him. Tonight, though, he would risk it.
The small, olive-skinned boy began to walk toward the barracks, thinking that maybe it wasn't so bad, being in this weyr. Maybe he could find a life here. His eyes skirted over Narna's face. Though he wished she hadn't had to suffer so for him to see this.
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