Chapter 3; Spied:
I am so, so, so sorry kiddies! I got swept up with summer class for university (we have exams every week), and my job. Things got busy and I had to push this aside. Also, this chapter wasn't coming out the way I wanted it to, and had to be re-written several times. But here it is, nice and long to make up for my absence! And as a bit of a spoiler, in just two more chapters, Raelynne and Smaug will finally meet!
The song in this chapter are experts from "Maid on the Shore" by Solas, a very lovely ditty that I suggest you listen to for atmosphere. In nearly every chapter from this one on, there will be a song featured, as Raelynne is a minstrel, that you all will be able to listen to if you wish, as I will list them.
Also, just to clarify, italics without quotes around them are thoughts. Like this:
I think I'd really like a cookie.
While words in italics with quotes and in centered in the format mean they are being sung:
"I really want a coookkiiiieee!"
Get it? Got it? Good.
Now, unto the story.
The most unwelcomed, most hideoderous sound in all of creation twisted Raelynne's consciousness into that of the regretfully wakeful. Rising from her weakly framed bed of straw and tattered sheets, she felt a deep seated loathing rise.
Rooster. Yes, roasted rooster sounds lovely for breakfast.
She venomously thought as she attempted to close the shutters of her one window in a sleepy hope of shutting out the crow of the bird that tormented her. Succeeding without the desired effect, Raelynne consented that she had no choice but to make ready for the day. Goose stepping back towards the bed so as to grab at her worn travel bag, which she refused to replace on principles of cheapness, she cursed every single floor board in the room for being ungodly cold against her feet. With half shut eyes, she began to search blindly for a brush to tame down her hair, when Raelynne felt a sudden wave of energy seize her upon a realization.
Today was Ciar Day. Today, she was going to make a lot of money.
As if just having taken a bite of Lembas bread, Raelynn felt more animated then she had in days, needing no further provocation to wake as she then hurriedly rushed to meet the day.
Despite her previous morning listlessness, Raelynne fervently tossed off her nightdress to replace it with her best linens and costume dress, one that had trailing ribbons and striking myriad of colors mixing like stain glass, for wearing pronounced colors was the expectancy of minstrels and troubadours. It was cut off short above her ankles, as brevity is the soul of dress slips, yet was free enough in the waist and neckline to dance in. Though more accustomed to plain the boots, trousers, and long tunic she often wore on the road, today Raelynne needed to be more pleasing to the eye, or at least, to the intoxicated eye.
Unfortunately for her, even that was rather difficult to manage with her meager talents for accentuating. Though without a mirror, Raelynne could sum up her physical shortcomings quite easily. Namely, that her large heart did not, as is so sadly often the case, inhabit a large bosom, and in this business that made all the difference in way of tips when you were a female entertainer. But she was not without her appeasements; her slender legs were made quite agreeable from her many wanders, and her pale skin was pleasingly dappled with freckles from her years under unclouded skies.
Kisses from the sun, I think mother used to call them, owing to how much it adored you. Yes, that's what she told little sister-
The brief, carelessly unfiltered thought left a sudden sting, taking form physically as a pause in Raelynn's rushed movements. Unconsciously, her head fell some, bowing to the heavy memories that now rose into the light of her mind. How long since she had dragged up the memory of her mother? Her sister? Raelynne usually did well in forgetting her past, as a necessity. But now that one simple thought led back to many lanes and avenues of wounded thought. Idly she braided her long hair, a habit from childhood, and forged attempt to distract herself against a building rapid of grief…
With a talent for disguise, Raelynne pushed her heavy thoughts away and placed on a wonderfully feigned smile that could charm a snake from its skin. Painting red those lying lips with a brush of her maquillages without the aid of a mirror, she heaved out the last of her woe with a titter of determined, if exhausted, merriment. More than ready now for a full day of celebration, Raelynne grabbed her beloved bag of instruments, tied on her ghillies with haste, and rushed out in an urge to be part of the peoples' merriment to forget everything except the chime of her soon to be earned wages.
~:o0o:~
Since she was little, festivals had always entranced Raelynne. Whatever the purpose for its cause, be it the remembrance of a founder, the victory of a revolution, or yes, even for something as silly as boats, Raelynne could never help but feel infected by the atmosphere of a celebration. Only on the battlefield did people feel an encompassing camaraderie for one another such as they did when they danced and sang for a fair, and Raelynne loved being a part of such intricate sentiment.
She loved being the center of it even better.
For the faults of her temper and her money loving ways, Raelynne treasured being the center for attention just as iniquitously. It's why this profession of hers appealed to her so much, and why she knew herself to be successful at it too. She did not just depend on the cheer of the crowd for her livelihood; she lived solely just to hear it. It was the greatest distraction she had ever found for herself to forget the matters of her past, a paramount and sweet dependence.
Spending most of the day wandering the docks and playing where crowds had gathered to watch the boat races or fishing contests, Raelynne merely added to the celebratory atmosphere, unable to draw the crowds' attention fully onto her. But this was a predictable pattern. It would not be until evening when the sports and competition had ended and the drinking and dinners began that she would get her chance to be truly heard.
"A'ight. I wan the tumblers go firs, then da storyteller." Commanded Lady Bern, patron of the Two Headed Rat. The troupes she addressed nodded in agreement; it was costume for the owners of the establishments entertainers were hired to play at to choose the order in which they would perform, often because they knew what kind of crowd came in when, as this was their city and the entertainers merely passerbys.
"Then, I wan lass here ta go to ty up the even'ing. Ya gotta good song lined up?" Lady Bern then asked of Raelynne, who had arrived back to the pub in ample time to insure a spot for herself. She nodded, guessing that would put her performance around the time most of the families had left to put the children to bed, and the heavy drinkers became a bit rowdy and more easily impressed. It should be easy earnings for her tonight.
Time passed as the crowd that had gathered in the modest pub changed their make slowly from that of families treating themselves to a meal with meat, to that of the more worn and slogged men. Most of the children were taken away after the tumblers had had their three encores, and with them their productive mothers who wanted to get an early start on nursing their husbands' approaching wake into sobriety. Now all that remained were some of the more elderly of the fish mongers, and with them multitudes of the stubbly faced lads who fancied themselves old enough to brag of manhoods achieved. But overall, the crowd seemed to be too entranced with the darkening evening and their drinks to bother much with anything other than the passing skirt of a barmaid or lighting their pipes.
Awaiting her turn to perform, Raelynne waited behind the curtain of the makeshift stage Lady Bern had set up inside her tavern for the occasion of Ciar Day. Unable to see the crowd, but able to hear them laugh at the storyteller's jokes and fables, Raelynne leaned against wall that stood behind the stage, eyes closed and enjoying the show just as much as the crowd was.
"Waking up to nature's call, the drunken Gondorian lifts his robes and gawks at what he sees. He said 'Lad, I don't know where you've been, but I see you won first prize!'"
The sputter of stifled laughter that left Raelynne was overshadowed by the roar of the audience at the rather lewd conclusion to the storyteller's joke. Smiling to herself as she stood herself straight, Raelynne decided that it was time for her to prepare for her own act. She began the ever tedious debate as to what would be her main instrument as she dug through her bag of tricks. She was skilled in all of them, but many had to be eliminated since she was going to dance. That, and the choice of her song certainly narrowed down the options to one instrument-
With a startle, Raelynne's attention was grabbed by the sense that she was no longer alone. Curiously, her eyes danced around, wondering if it was the storyteller returning from his act. But being the only one behind the stage's curtain, she was met with no answer as to where this sensation was originating from, which only served to irritate Raelynne. Her poor senses often played tricks on her, making for many nights spent in dark woods while traveling sleepless.
She knew it to be a habit left over from her days at home to be always on edge, and back then she was grateful of it, as many times her skittishness served to sharpen her mind, cautioning her nature despite her habit for rash temper. But these days, it was often times more of an inconvenience than a help, making her jump at shadows that didn't even exist. Continuing on after chiding herself with a tsk, Raelynne concentrated on the task before her, ignoring the warnings of being spied upon her senses hopefully feigned.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I have much enjoyed spending time with you all and making you smile!" Said the storyteller from his spot on the stage, taking a bow or two for the hearty cheer he received. Putting his hands up for silence, he continued "But now, I must give up the stage for the Two Headed Rat's final act for this evening. Please welcome Raelynne Thimblsting!"
There was a mild, half-hearted applause welcoming Raelynne as she pushed a curtain aside to take the stage. The low torch light of the tavern had taken a rusted hue thanks to the lateness of the evening, and gave her a poor view of her audience. Not that it mattered as she readied her painted bodhran, tipper in hand, only to willing to start. Resting her hand against the stretched head, the cool goatskin of the drum feeling natural against her hands, Raelynne breathed in deep to calm the nerves that always danced from the first time she performed and still to this day.
The sound she produced from her practiced fingers was in tempo with the evening's emotions, from the length of joy to the shortness of expectations. Years of lonely dedication to practice had taught her much, to keep her touch firm, light, demanding, passive, loving, forceful; to be a contradiction was to be a musician. To start, she let it beat little tunes so low that the murmur of the crowd dulled it some, but soon, it rose, louder and louder, as her voice then joined with it in harmonious consonance with its rich sound:
"There was a fair maiden, she lived all alone. She lived all alone on the shore oh. No one could she find but to cover she'd mind, and to wander alone on the shore oh, to wander along on the shore oh."
With the first verse done, she had gained back the flittering attention of the crowd, and a smile started to stretch itself over her cheeks. Stepping side to side, adding a twirl here and there, Raelynne made the movements of her body as much an instrument as her voice with the simple motions that fluttered the skirt of her vivid dress and long tresses. The tipper in her hand struck the drum's head faster now as Raelynn lifted it higher, her steps becoming more flamboyant as she took the length of the stage in her stride, smiling to the curious watchers who had come closer to its edge.
"There was a fine captain who sailed a fine ship, and the weather be steady and fair o. 'I shall die, I shall die!' the fair captain he cried 'if I can't have that maid on the shore, shore, shore. If I can't have that maid on the shore o.'"
With a small leap that kicked up the pleats of her dress, she spurned an applause berated with a few brawly cheers. It had always been said, if you wore a short enough skirt, the party would come to you. And this instance was no different, as Raelynn could not help but notice a few lascivious hands reach out to tug at said skirt, but she always flittering out of reach. The pulse of her drum picked up in its rhythm, becoming more wildly.
"After many persuasions they brought her on board. They seated her down in a chair oh. He invited her down to his cabin below…"
With a feignly timid bow of her head as she dipped her hips at the suggestiveness of the lyric's meaning, she earned yet another hoot of approval, followed this time by the charming tinkle of a few sparse coins being tossed onto the stage. Goaded by greed she continued on, throwing her heart and body into the song with a fierceness to forget and to be admired. This certainly promised to be a most profitable, and perhaps even enjoyable, night.
"Farewell to all sorrow and care, oh! Farewell to all sorrow and care, oh!"
~:o0o:~
The celebratory evening in Lake Town sank further into itself as the night took over, a late fog travelling through on an idle wind. With it came a lull of quiet as the once lurid revelers took to their beds, too tired or inebriated to witness the oncoming midnight that symbolized the end of their precious Cair Day.
Among the few lugged and lonely that still found themselves within the Two Headed Rat, Raelynne sat at the bar, alert and wakeful. Though often incurable of somnolence in the morn she knew the value of the late night; the cover of dark, the sleeping multitudes, and the advantage of traveling within the quiet and unassuming dark brought comfort to her, along with a restlessness that was often the cause of her morning listless. She did not mind it though, in fact, it was difficult for her to understand why others were not of the same habit as her. A sunless sky was dangerous; it was when the criminally shrewd made their wicked plays, when the most horrid predators did their hunting. Her cautious, if at times skittish, nature did not allow for Raelynne to understand how so many could sleep through the most treacherous interval of the diurnal.
"Here."
Raelynne's wonderings were stopped at the sight of a flask of golden froth was placed before her, slashing some. Looking curiously up to the impassive face of Lady Bern, Raelynne leaned away from the bar in a gaze avoiding retreat.
"Oh, um, well..."
"It's on da house."
"Ah. Yes, thank you very kindly." Replied Raelynne with a smarmy gratitude; she was never one to resist anything free in this world, however rare and misleading those things often times were. The drink was cool to her lips and warm to her throat, a lovely concoction that she greedily took down, still somewhat thirsting after her performance.
Lady Bern took the flask once she was done, smirking at the girl's already reddening cheeks. Raelynne's eyes followed the woman in bored interest, having nothing more preoccupying for herself to do as she waited for the tavern owner to shoo out all her guests before paying her. With a light-footedness Raelynne did not think possible for one of her sturdy build, Lady Bern tended to the last of her patrons, most of them leaning over their tables, already snoring.
One however seemed to be cursed with the same insomnia that was with Raelynne. Stiff postured and fingers impatiently tapping, a man trapped in a corner table watched for Lady Bern as she came closer. The drink before him was untouched, and it seemed to Raelynne the man had not allowed one drop past his thin lips. Becoming uninterested when the Lady Bern finally made her way towards the curious stranger, Raelynne turned back to face the bar to ruffle through her already packed bag, missing the flash of a bountiful amount of coinage the man had covertly slipped towards the now greedy eyed Lady Bern.
"Here, another." Offered Lady Bern when she had made her way back, placing another flask before the young woman.
"I fear your generosity will quite spoil me." Sneered Raelynne, who none the less took what was freely offered. The traverness smiled broadly.
"After dat money ya earned me wit your act, you deserve sum spoilin'."
"Agreed."
Scowling at the rather haughty answer Raelynne replied with, Lady Bern hid the expression quickly as the girl placed the flask down, already finished. Barely flushed, the elder woman could not help but admire how akin the lass's drinking habits were to that of the band of dwarves that visited her establishment recently.
"How's ya came to be here in Lake Town? Eh?" She suddenly asked, bringing Raelynne's wandering attention onto her "Traveling with folks? Husband?"
Eyebrows quirked in curiosity, Raelynne pondered what could have brought on this friendliness from the usually sour faced Lady Bern. But seeing as how she would like this to be the one town that would not run her out with rotting produce, she decided to humor the woman.
"No. Not traveling with anyone."
"Really? Nice girl like you hasn't had even one suitor to call on her? Not one in all your travels?" This earned Lady Bern a glare from Raelynne. It was often the assumptions of those more gutter minded folk to accuse young girls who traveled alone, regardless of announced profession, to have one wanton commonality. And while it was true of some female minstrels, Raelynne hardly felt it should be of anyone's business, especially that of a noisy taverness.
"No. I have no patience for such things. Or talk of such things for that matter." She tartly replied. Lady Bern, wisely, decided to change the subject.
"Then how'd a girl like you get into this sort of business? All by yourself? That's the curious thing."
"It wasn't really." Shrugged Raelynne, who gestured to have her empty flask refilled. Lady Bern stubbornly complied ."Had a sort of knack for the dramatics since I was little. So the choice was clear from the beginning for me. Become a minstrel or go into diplomacy. I just happened to choose the more honest vocation."
This produced a chuckle form the taverness, who watched as Raelynne slung back the flask she had just filled.
"Sharp lass you is."
A quick glance towards the stranger, and a sly smirk, was hidden from Raelynne as the woman continued to mutter.
"Sharper you'd be if ya stayed vocated bit longer."
Once more, Raelynne's eyebrows quirked in question, a showy smile coming forth.
"Lady Bern, we are two women of kindred ilk. Meaning I don't think either of us are for giving the run around with our vocabulary when there's money involved."
"Crowds around here may not be too large, but they're steady. Drinks one of the few things around this town one can put in one's belly anymore, only cause we get it special from those Point Ears. But some entertainment now and would cast off the Red Dragon's shadow."
Explained Lady Bern in a business tone of voice, if somewhat tartly. Raelynne's mind however was distracted by the last of what she said.
"People still tell that story around here? About the Red Dragon and the dwarven treasure it guards?" She asked inquisitively, an expression of childlike interest coming forth.
"Aye, but it ain't not story." Brushed off the woman, who continued on before Raelynn was able to ask more, "An' no one would bother you, see, not here. Not even if any really took notice of…well."
Lady Bern's decision to tactfully trail off to leave unsaid what might offend was not appreciated by Raelynne, who took on a sudden, dark glower of shame and anger. The girl lowered her head, hiding from view that which Lady Bern spoke of with the fall of thick locks, acting as an impromptu curtain.
"Wouldn't they?"
"Nah. None sober nough 'round here ta get a good lock anyways."
Raelynne smirked emptily.
"That is a comfort indeed."
Her want to stay longer depleted thanks to the reminders Lady Bern unknowingly instilled in her, Raelynne stood up, slinging her heavy travel bag across her shoulders with a huff.
"It's a tempting offer, Lady Bern, as tempting as the shade of a porch on a summer's afternoon to the farmer's cat. But I am afraid I must continue my travels, even with my boots as well-worn as they are." She said with a sad flourish towards said boots, a mask of comedy being skillfully constructed over her solemn expression.
"Ya certain? Steady money ta be made. Room an' board half price." Asked the woman, becoming slightly perturbed that Raelynne did not take her offer, darting a worried look at the stranger in the corner of her establishment. Raelynne smiled widely.
"There you go again, as alluring as spiced wine on a fall's night, but I am afraid my decision is as certain as they come. I must take my leave of this most charming abode of yours as the road just does not call my name, it shrieks it."
"Hmph. No need to caterwaul with yer fancies to me, young lass." Gruffed the now annoyed Lady Bern; though all the pretty words the girl spoke, she could tell. The lass was quite a rude thing. Still, she shoved a hand into the pocket of her apron, tossing out a small leather pouch that landed on the bar between them with a metal tinkle. Raelynne, knowing that sound quite well, took the bag of coins with a thankful nod before nimbly tucking it away into her own pocket.
"Then I shall caterwaul here no longer, and instead go to make the journey that awaits all such fools as I." With a bow, Raelynne showed herself to the door, vacating the premises only after one last flourishing gesture of goodbye to Lady Bern, who gladly watched the door slam behind her.
~:o0o:~
Fool. Great, unmeasurable fool. Great, unmeasurable, unfathomable, colossal fool. Great, unmeasurable, unfathomable –
Raelynne's thoughts raged through her mind as she at last made it past the rim of Lake Town, the fog blanketing much of that ahead, behind, and even below her feet. She did not seem to care much though, as her boots stubbornly trudged forth; unhindered by the drinks she had admittedly swigged down like a common fishmonger in her rising temper.
A permanent residence, a steady fee. A roof and bread. I could have had that long ago if I was not so damned foolish.
Her hands clenched at her bag in tight, whitening fists, her simple way of bleating herself without having to resort to slapping herself for her foolishness. Here it was, before her, the offer of residence she had always been complaining of never receiving, right before her. Even if it was the Lady Bern who presented it, it was an offer for a stay none the less, one that could even prove profitable. The town was crawling with rumors that its new Mayor would lead them to prosperity and riches to rival that of the Red Dragon's fabled hoard.
She could have easily chosen to stay, and she was sorely tempted. But it was not the Lady Bern's rudeness or the town's dismal chance of prosperity that made her refuse.
No. No, not foolish. Cowardly. Cowardly without the instinct for self-preservation. Only the knack to scurry and cringe.
A traveling minstrel who wanted to put off her travels? Hardly. Though still truly Raelynne found no enjoyment in traveling on foot, it was a necessity. In that, she wasn't traveling, but running away.
Due to her nature, Raelynne had many worries. Mostly, she worried about food. Food, the cold, and her shoes. There was also the greedy matter of her wages. But it was not the coin she is really after, but what the coin could do for her, as someone she knew once said to her. It can keep her from starving. Keep her warm, keep her safe. Keep her from ever having a need or a thought about going back to the place that she ran from. That drove her out.
Her resilient spirit notwithstanding, Raelynne was no shallow optimist. Hope is what sits by a window and waits for one more dawn, despite the fact that there isn't an ounce of proof in tonight's black, black sky that it can possibly come. For her there were many nights like that. Because of such she did not walk this world with open, welcoming hands. Rather with her heart closed to everything but the past that had taught her such cruel lessons about the world. She would run, on the slim faith she allowed herself to believe in that it was for the best.
Continuing on, Raelynne's grip loosened itself, releasing her distresses seize on the flow of her blood. With almost a panic to the movement, she clutched at the neck of her shirt, gripping the fabric tightly. Underneath the cloth, she felt the presence of thin linked metal, made warm by its permanent place against her chest, branding her with the memory of how it came into her wrongful possession.
The fog now leaving her at the entrance of the scattered brush of woods that surrounded the lake, Raelynne's pace quickened in self-ire to the confession of her guilt and the brief hope of leaving her thoughts behind in the haze that swallowed Lake Town.
The reason it took me so long to update was because I didn't like how the first part of the story, with Raelynne by herself, was going, and then I had to fix up the second part to mess with it! I'm still not satisfied, and might fix it later, but I wanted to give you wonderfully patient readers an update. Oh, and a bodhran is an Irish drum with a thin frame ranging from 10 to 26 inches in diameter. It is held in one hand while the other beats with a double sided drum stick, or tipper, and it produces such wonderful, rich sounds. I suggest listening to a few songs its featured in if you still have no idea what I am talking about.
And oh, who was that stranger at the tavern? What will become of Raelynne as she enters the woods alone? And when will Smaug and Raelynne finally meet? Oh, so many questions, and all will be answered in the coming chapters. Till then kiddies, I bid thee farewell…(I swear, the next chapter will be up this coming week!)