A/N I missed my sister. Thanks (as always) to Sarah for betaing and actually coming up with the name of this one. *HEART*
The sun was setting, much earlier here than in Rajmuat; the girls were relaxing just before dinner. In the city, this time would have been filled with wrapping up visits with friends in a sitting room or garden, with music and poetry. In the isolated keep, Sarai and Dove returned to their room alone.
Sarai entered the room later than Dove and scattered her belongings along the floor as she walked towards the window on the far wall. She pulled her hair down from its pins, shaking her head to relieve the ache of her scalp. Grabbing up her comb, she paced from window to door while roughly pulling through the tangles which had no doubt formed during the afternoon's ride, until her black hair laid straight and glossy down her back.
She put the comb down and walked back to the window, looking out over the village and into the wilderness of her mother's land. Her fingers tapped a rhythm on the windowsill before they drifted to her hair, pulling strands into what was supposed to be a semblance of order, assumedly, but the rebellious tangles caught around her fingers, fell from her grip, or tied around themselves until she was growling in frustration. She paced again, concentrating, her slippered feet tapping on the floor.
Finally, with a huff that sounded rather like a curse she never would have uttered in front of either Mequen or Winna, Sarai pulled it all loose.
She walked to the bed. Sitting on the floor, she scooted her back against the bed until she hit up against Dove's feet.
Without a sigh, Dove set aside her book on the bed, marking her page with a yellow ribbon she had tied around her wrist. Uncrossing her legs so that they set on either side of Sarai, knees hugging elbows, she combed her fingers gently through the tangles Sarai had caused in her impatient attempts at order.
Dove pulled a section of hair from the front of Sarai's head, separated it into three and began to braid. Fingers that were not as delicate as her sister's were more nimble and strands were added— meticulous and neat—into the braid until she reached the end. She accepted a ribbon from over Sarai's shoulder and tied it off.
Dove tucked a tiny wisp into place, ran her hand gently along the braid, and then tugged it lightly. Sarai jumped up, her momentary, uncharacteristic stillness broken as she went to the washstand and picked up the mirror to examine her sister's work.
Dove re-crossed her legs on the bed and found her book. Her yellow ribbon wound around her thin wrist and she returned to stillness except for her dark eyes, darting across the page.
The End.