Slight Return

Disclaimer: All characters and locations herein are the property of Tamora Pierce. Plot and actual written words owned by me. in addition, the title of the story is taken from the song Voodoo Child (Slight Return) by Jimi Hendrix, property of the Hendrix family.

The say goodbyes are hard. They are. But to me, somehow, hellos are even harder. After more than two years apart, greeting Rosethorn was one of the hardest things I've ever done.

The girls warned me. As soon as their mind-link resumed, Daja and Sandry began exchanging regular progress reports with Briar, who of course told them where he and Rosethorn were. So, I knew about three weeks ahead of time, and could prepare.

I preoccupied myself with those little things, like making sure the house was clean and the garden in perfect condition. I made sure all our friends knew, and invited them to Discipline for a welcome home party. I opened the shutters in both their rooms to air them out, and even brought in herbs to freshen them up. The day before their arrival I alerted the entire temple, I think.

That morning everything was ready. Sandry and her student had come from the city with the promise that the duke would arrive at noon. Daja dragged herself from the forge and brought Frostpine and Kirel with her. Gorse sent mountains of sweets and I brewed three different kinds of tea. Everything was perfect.

When she walked in, I hid in the crowd. This was more than I could deal with. We'd been apart so long, I'd forgotten how her presence felt, how overpowering it could be. It was almost like meeting her for the first time, except terrifying with expectations and assumptions.

From behind a wall of people I watched her chat with old friends. Briar, of course, settled near the cakes to introduce the girls to his student. He's grown taller, I said to myself, and he looks like he learned a lot. Exactly as I had when Daja returned from the north.

Even facing the wall I could feel her come near. Living with someone does that to you -- you learn to recognize the way they move, get to know the sounds they make, just living. I slipped into my room, shutting the door softly, and let Sandry do the entertaining. By now, she was practically a professional at it, and I was so…

But a time of reckoning must come. Eventually everyone left: Daja and Frostpine to their smithy, Sandry and Pasco to their homes. Briar took his student upstairs to one of the empty rooms, decreeing that it would be just right for her. And she, she was sitting at the table, looking at nothing.

I was faced with a choice: I could close the crack of the door through which I watched her, go to sleep and delay the problem till tomorrow, or I could open the door and welcome her home.

I opened the door.

"Lark," her voice was soft, her face in shadow.

I said nothing, but sat across from her.

She waited, and wore me out. It takes longer for an oak to grow than even the best of your quilts, she once told me, not long after we met.

"R-Rosey." I looked up, carefully. "Please, can we take it slow?"

"I've missed you," she said, tracing the grain of the table-top.

"I know," I replied. "I missed you, too. You've been gone so long. I just… Could you… Please, just give me some time to get used to you, again."

I thought I heard her sigh, but I'm not sure. "Time?" she said. "Lark, we have all the time in the world. I'm not going anywhere."