A/N I'm very fond of Vrisa--I think she could have a good deal more to say than she gets to. This is the encounter between Vrisa and Talia that takes place between Arrows of the Queen and Arrows Flight, when Talia returns to Holderkin lands--it might not be entirely squaring with the story in Arrows Flight, but this is how I imagined it when I wrote Never Really an End and it just had to be written down
"When I went back, Vrisa was changed beyond recognition" Talia, Arrows Flight
Vrisa was tired. After Estel's death the whole burden of the wives and children of the steading had fallen on her shoulders, where as an Underwife, she had never expected it to be. Two of the wives were recovering from the fever that had killed Estel and one was near her time with child. Vrisa herself had taken fever and then recovered quickly. She had always had a strong constitution.
Her honored husband had caught the fever too, and he was also recovering. He seemed to have take no permanent harm from it. He even seemed pleased with the diligence of Vrisa's care.
Vrisa had never aspired to be First Wife. She had been married to old Fletcher more because of Estel than Fletcher. Estel was a fine midwife and, like weaving or sewing, midwifery was a seemly occupation for a woman. A steading with its own midwife seldom lost babies or mothers. More, a steading with more than one midwife could make silver from steadings without one. And often a midwife could treat the minor injuries a farmer might pick up.
After the usual time of adjustment, Vrisa had settled down to her life as a Wife. While Vrisa's honored husband had, on one or two occaisions, given Vrisa the back of his hand, he was not a man quick to anger. Vrisa learned to care for the man's comfort well enough that he did not see fit to punish her. After she had become pregnant for the first time, he had stopped coming to her bed every night. Now he only came when the moon was right for her--not when she had a nursling, nor any time when she was pregnant.
Estel had been an older sister to Vrisa. Teaching her the women's lore that men and littles never hear of; what herbs will bring on one's moontime; what will stop a pregnancy from taking; what will encourage it to take.
When Estel had died, Vrisa had dressed her for her burial, sat with her for the three days of vigil and tried to be strong. After Estel's burial they had held another six days of mourning, the life went on. Vrisa needed to care for the Underwives now. She needed to make sure the littles were fed and clothed and that all was ordered in the house.
Such was the will of the Goddess, reflected Vris. Life was hard. Those who didn't bend to their circumstances would surely break.
Her three littles trailed behind her. Today was the first day Vrisa had been truly able to leave the house since Estel's death rites. She was taking eggs and preserves to the peddlars to pay for good metal needles and embroidery floss.
"Vrisa?" a voice called from behind her, "Is that--is that you?"
Vrisa turned, expecting to see one of the neighbor Wives. Instead, there stood a familiar young woman of about fifteen, wearing grey tunic and breeches, standing next to a great white horse. Taller than she had been, but with the same curly hair and pointed chin. The same soft brown eyes.
Vrisa stood stunned. For a bare second she could say nothing, then she stuttered, "T-Talia."
Talia smiled broadly, "Yes, it's me!" she exclaimed walking forward holding her hands out in greeting.
Talia had disappeared from the Holdings three years ago. Gossip had it that she'd run off with a Herald. Perhaps even to become the Herald's woman, although Vrisa had thought that unlikely. Some said that she was to be a Herald, although that seemed equally unlikely. The part of the story that never changed was that her little sister had been taken from the Steading by the Heralds. Not kidnapped, but willingly. Of course she'd been Shunned for it.
"What are you doing here?" gasped Vrisa, so surprised she couldn't school her features to a seemly expression.
"I came to see you Vrisa." said Talia, smile open and as sunny as the day, "I missed you."
Vrisa stared at her. This was Talia, but a Talia so changed as to be unrecognizable; she moved like a man, looking Vrisa square in the eye. Every movement bespoke audacity and impetuosity. A woman who looked at the world like that, was just asking to be slapped down.
"Where have you been?" Vrisa got a hold of herself enough to ask.
Talia reached up to pet the nose of the horse, "I've been in Haven. I'm a Herald Trainee. This is my Companion, Rolan."
The horse nodded gravely and Vrisa took a slow frightened step back, "A Herald Trainee?" asked Vrisa, wishing she could think of something to say that didn't make her sound quite so stupid. In her heart, fear conflicted with the urge to take her little sister in her arms. They had once been so close. Vrisa had looked forward to the day when she might meet Talia at one of the Wives gatherings or helped Talia birth her first little. When Talia had been Shunned, Vrisa had mourned her like she now mourned Estel.
"Yes. I'll be a Herald in a few years. Remember how we always talked about it?" Talia replied.
Not Vrisa. Vrisa had only listened while Andrean had spun fantastic tales of Heralds for Talia's benefit. He'd been an unusually gently soul and had loved telling tales to the littles. More than once, after Talia had disappeared, Vrisa had cursed Andrean for turning the child's head with tales.
"Anyway, I came to bring you to Haven." Talia went on.
That stopped Vrisa cold. She looked at her three littles who scampered around in the sunshine and thought of Meria's child due in the next moon. She thought of Estel, lying cold and still in the parlor so they might have her wake.
Did the child (for as Vrisa looked at her she realized that Talia was just that still) have no sense of Duty? Did she not realize that one could not just run off?
"What would I do in Haven?" asked Vrisa flatly, "I have three Underwives now. I'm Firstwife you know."
Talia's face fell, "I just thought...I thought you'd be happy there."
Vrisa felt a flash of irrational anger, she took a breath, "I am Firstwife on my Steading," she repeated, trying to make Talia understand, "I have much that needs doing." Vrisa could hear Keldar in her own voice, but couldn't stop it.
Vrisa realized suddenly that she wanted Talia to go. Her sweet little sister who was so endlessly patient with the littles and so funny and clever was gone. Replaced by this brassy, brash stranger who thought one could just walk away from their Duties as it suited them.
"I cannot run away from my Duty." Vrisa gritted, "Although it appears you can."
Talia went pale, "I didn't mean that. I just--I was Chosen." she said defensively. The horse moved closer to Talia.
"You know, when you ran away, Father beat Keldar within an inch of her life." said Vrisa harshly, "I suppose that pleases you." Vrisa couldn't decide whether she was more angry with or frightened of this new Talia.
Talia's hand flew to her mouth, "No, I didn't know."
That was so like the old Talia, that Vrisa stepped forward again. She wanted to tell her that it was all right, that Keldar had lost her temper once too often with Father on that day. The beating had less to do with Talia than Keldar's own words to Father's Mother. But then the horse brushed Talia's cheek in a gesture of comfort, that Vrisa could not misinterpret. This brought home to her that whatever had happened, her Talia was gone.
Vrisa felt as though she was caught in one of the superstious tales the peddlers told about changelings. At that thought, Vrisa involuntarily made the sign against evil.
Talia saw it and tears welled up in her eyes, although she didn't let them fall, "I-I suppose I'll let you get back to your business, then" said Talia in a small voice.
"Aye." was all Vrisa said, not trusting herself to speak. She could get beaten if she was seen talking to someone who was Shunned--she wanted Talia gone before that happened. Vrisa picked up the basket she'd let fall and started on her way. She heard rather than saw the woman mount her horse.
"Mama?" said her oldest who was four and a bit years, "Who was that?"
"No one, son." said Vrisa loudly enough for Talia to hear, "Just a stranger looking for directions. No one I know."