Anguish

At first, she was like a child, just doing what she was told. The tea was brewed and Rook sat beside her, holding the bowl to her lips from time to time until she had finished it. The shock of what had happened still had her in its' grip and she had drifted into a fugue state of not really being aware.


For a time, she lay down, but had sat up abruptly, feeling as if she was going to choke on the emotions that she had for the moment pushed down deep inside, where they were safe. She just sat in the middle of their sleeping furs, head down staring at her hands. How long she sat there, she doesn't now. It was like coming out of a long, dark hole of some sort, not really knowing where your were, and maybe not real sure who you were.


The first thing that she became aware of was the blood on her hands. Turning them over slowly, her brow furrows as she ponders why there is blood on her hands, then it all begins to come back to her. There was not only blood on her hands, but on her skirt and the front of her tunic. It was the blood that brought it all rushing back to her. Holding his head, looking down into his face, his bloodied hand lifting to stroke her cheek. It was like a stone tumbling down a hill, once the memories started coming back, they came in a rush and there was no stopping them.


Tilting her head back, all she could think to do was scream and she did. Over and over and over. Rook had rushed in, trying to calm her with juneau right on his heels. Panic had sat in and she was trying to rub the dried blood off on every surface she could find, then she began to rip at the bloodied clothing. Rook managed to calm her enough, to make her understand that the girls would help her to change clothes, and would bring her water to wash with, but still she tore at her clothing. Some where inside her, she had this thought that if she got rid of the blood, none of it would be true. None of it.

Rook had stepped out side, calling for kasra to make more of the tea, and if there was not more, to run to the healer to get more. Within the confines of the platform, he paced back and forth as juneau helped her to undress and to wash. There was tears in the girls eyes as she washed her Mistress as one would a small child, one that was confused and hurt. The love the girl had for this woman that owned her was evident in the gentle manner she cleaned her. Finally, she had gotten her cleaned and into clean clothing. She had finally convinced her to lay down.

Stepping out onto the platform, she almost knocked the old oralu off. He looked to the bundle of bloodied clothing, and said........Burn them. By this time, kasra had returned with the tea and slipped in to try and persuade the Mistress to drink it.

She had reached the stage of knowledge. The stage where she knew he was gone, to never return. She felt empty, like a jar that had lost its usefulness, one that had a leak. One that had no worth left to it. Taking the tea, more out of knowing that if she did, the girl would go away. If she took the tea, it would appease her old friend that paced the platform, and they would all leave her alone. Alone to her misery.

She began to cry quietly, not wanting to give cause for one of them to come in and hover around her. Why had this happened again to her? Was she so horrible that the skies took such pleasure in tormenting her, of robbing her of all happiness? Soon, she drew her thoughts away from herself and they went to Tug,who would never know his father, then to the child that she carried, that would also never see his fathers' face. That part of her that was a mother, knew that she would have to dig deep into her reserves to find the will and the strength to carry on, if for no other reason than to give them a mother to guide them.

She thought of Tarra, and the agony of losing a child, and she cried. Thoughts turned to Falon, who was struggling with decisions of her own, now losing not only a sister, but a brother, and she cried.

This was her night to cry, tomorrow she would have to steel herself to continue with her life. Can she do it? Will she be able to find that which she needs? Right now, she is unsure. The pain runs too deep, to think on it more.

And so she cries. Tears of pain, tears of fear, the anguished tears of one that has suffered loss.