AN: My apologies for taking so long since to updated this (Almost a year and a half! Sheesh!) Since my last update I've gotten married, changed jobs, and started working on my own story. Please accept this new chapter as an apology.
I recommend that you re-read this from the beginning. I've gone through and made some changes to the previous chapters and characters and I've extended scenes as well.
Other than that, please enjoy and let me know what you think! -AS
Mud's prediction was right: as soon as dinner was done, Domick retreated to his room and quickly fell asleep on his bed. But his dreams were haunted by music with odd deep beats and instruments he had never heard before and little discs that unemployed the Harpers of Pern.
In the morning they returned to the souvenir stand. However, instead of being drilled again on how much this item or that item might cost, Norah had him help her count how many of the various t-shirts, cds, and something called a sticker, that the stand had and had him double and triple check his counts.
"You're pretty good at this." She said as she kept track of the amounts he told her on a piece of paper. "Did you work in a store or something? Maybe for an inventory company?"
"A store?" When he was a journeyman he had the misfortune of being assigned to assist Silvina one day with sorting the Harper Hall storerooms - somehow he didn't think that that was what she meant. "No, but counting things isn't very hard work."
"Sorry - I was just trying to see if maybe this sparked a memory or something."
Domick sighed; doing this did had stirred up memories all right. Silvina had made him shift boxes just like Norah was doing, and she had written down the numbers he told her in tight script like Norah did - though she didn't draw stars next to the items they needed more of. Did they miss him, as much as he missed them? He shook his head, cutting off his thoughts before they could go any further. He was a grown man, not an apprentice fresh from his hold - he should not be stricken with homesickness every other moment. What had happened had happened; there was no going back. "Are you this concerned with other's memories as well?"
"You're the only person I know who's suffering from amnesia, so no." She made another little mark on the paper that faintly resembled a firelizard or a dragon. He had to look away and they worked in silence for a moment or two before she spoke again. "It gets easier, you know."
"If I am the only person who you know who's suffering from amnesia..." Faranth, how he hated that word. He did not have amnesia, he knew who he was! However, he stuck to Bliss's advice and played along. "...How do you know that it gets easier?"
To his surprise Norah did not whimper like one of the holder girls at the Hall might if they caught him in a foul mood. Nor did she flush and stammer and stare at the ground like Menolly sometimes did. She just raised an eyebrow at him and returned to what she was doing. However he did catch her watching him warily out of the corner of his eye every so often.
Finally after another hour of the drudgery of taking inventory she said. "C'mon. Let's break for lunch."
They locked up everything in the stand and headed back to the Stewes for sandwiches. After they ate, Norah told Domick he was free to do whatever he wanted while she saw to the various chores that Bliss had assigned her. Unfortunately, Mud had still not loaned him a guitar, so he found himself following Norah around and helping her out as she cleaned up this store or building for a new occupant. As they worked she explained that there were different types of crafters who came to the faire to sell their products: there were a few who had been with the faire ever since it had opened, but others would stay for a month or two, and there were still more that would only come in for a weekend at a time. Her job on the faire's off days was to make sure that the buildings were ready for the crafters when they needed them.
Once the chores were done they went to Bliss's cothold for dinner. There the old woman badgered him with questions on how he was doing, was he enjoying the faire, and his room was all right wasn't it? He was also told not to let Norah work him too hard. He advised her that he was fine, that Pembroke was a beautiful place - though he left out his continued concern about all the trees and other foliage - and that his room was perfectly acceptable. Then he found himself dozing on Bliss's couch while Norah did the dishes and Bliss watched something called the evening news on the TV. The news seemed to give updates on events around the world, much like harpers or dragonmen did whenever they visited an isolated hold. He caught glimpses of men armed with strange weapons fighting and dying in faraway lands, people protesting their lord holders, and the aftermath of floods and earthquakes in his moments of consciousness. It only made his heart ache even more for Pern and the Harper Hall; these sort of things would never happen there. No hold had dared to attack another now that Fax was gone and most Lord Holders were just and kind - with the rare exception of Meron and Toric. If something devastating happened at a hold or hall, others were quick to respond and help out.
There was a click from behind him and the TV changed to a different show; this one of three people trying to solve some sort of word puzzle. Norah turned from where she was sitting on the other side of the couch to glare at Bliss, "Hey! I was watching that!"
"Some of us would rather we watch something a little more uplifting." The old woman said with a significant look in Domick's direction. He sat up a bit straighter; did she think he was a child to be protected from the things going on in this new world? He glared at her, but she was oblivious to his dark look. She returned the long black object she held in her hand to the table next to her chair and picked up a ball of yarn and that hook of hers.
"What if something on there sparked his..." Norah started, but whatever else she was going to say trailed off when Domick turned his dark look on her.
"I can assure you, nothing on there is going to spark my memory," His tone was sharp and harsher than what he would use on even his unruliest students. He stood, suddenly sick of the wooden walls surrounding him and the company this whole mess was forcing him to keep. "I'm going to retire."
"All right dear, Norah will walk you back." Bliss said, volunteering her niece. However the grey eyed girl was watching him warily again - which only irked him more. Did she think he would actually hurt them?
"I can walk myself."
"There's no need to snap."
He didn't trust himself to respond without raising his voice; there was every need for him to snap. He simply turned and left the room and the house. The door slammed rather loudly behind him, and he was aware of Bliss shouting after him, asking him to come back and tell them what was wrong. He paused on the grass in front of the house for a moment; perhaps he should go back. Bliss was letting him live at Pembroke and providing him with work and food. She believed him...
"Let him go," Norah's calm voice drifted to him through the windows on the front of the house. "He hasn't had a moment to himself since he got here."
"But what if he gets lost?" Bliss's voice quavered.
"At Pembroke?" Norah scoffed.
"Fine. He can't really get lost here can he? However, if he's in a mood he shouldn't be alone."
"He isn't Uncle Darren."
"Oh, you're one to talk. You don't trust him."
"Of course I don't - I barely know him! And you only just met him too!"
"You never gave him a chance!"
Domick didn't want to hear anymore. He turned his back on the house and the argument the two women were having and began the long walk back to the Stewes.
He had a feeling that Norah did not enjoy his presence; when she was showing him about or training him, her manner was very straightforward and brusque. He understood that there may be some awkwardness between them after what had happened in the hospital, but to learn that she didn't trust him? Even though he conceded that it was reasonable, it still stung. He might berate idiotic apprentices and journeymen, but he would never physically hurt someone.
The living area of the Stewes was empty when he arrived. Mud had probably gone off to drink with one of his friends again, and while Domick was relieved, a part of him was also disappointed. He had not had a chance to talk with the old harper since arriving at Pembroke, but he didn't patronize him, doubt him, and didn't seem to care that he was supposedly an amnesiac.
Domick showered and retreated to his room before Norah came home. He could hear her walk down the hallway and pause just outside his door. She didn't knock though, and he heard the floorboards creak under her feet as she retreated to her own room.
Breakfast was a simple affair of cereal and toast the next morning. It was also a very quiet meal; Mud groaned at any noise that was louder than a whisper and Norah was busy reading a list of chores that had been left on their door that morning. She gave the list black looks whenever she encountered a chore that she didn't like, the little line in between her eyebrows disappearing and reappearing with every frown. Finally she sighed and stood, tucking it away in her pocket and motioning for Domick to follow her. They left Mud to his misery, being careful not to let the door or the screen slam shut behind them.
They finished doing inventory, and made sure everything in the stand was put away nice and neat where it would be easy to find in the morning. Afterwards Norah grilled him again on the prices, but other than that she did not speak a word to him.
He did not follow her as she did her chores this time. Instead he wandered back to the Stewes to find that Mud had finally remembered to retrieve the guitar from storage. It was plain and battered, but serviceable. Tired of only ever seeing the Stewes, or the Wharf stand, or Bliss's home, he took the guitar with him and headed out into Pembroke.
Since it was closer to the 'weekend' - which was what this world called their rest days - Pembroke was busier than it had been since Domick had arrived here. There were more school groups than usual, and quite a few families wandering around. There were also more re-enactors walking the streets; they bowed as he passed and asked him if he was interested in trying this or that. He shook his head and continued down the dirt roads until he reached the End of the World.
It was quieter here. None of the guests had made it back this far yet, and, even if they had, there were no shows or booths to distract them and keep them here - which was perfectly fine by him. He didn't want an audience asking questions like they did with the smiths across from the Wharf stand or any of the other re-enactors who wandered about. He just wanted to play and lose himself in the music of his home.
He found a bit of shade underneath a tree. It had been awhile since he had played a guitar - normally he preferred the pipes - but even though he was out of practice, he was able to tune it fairly quickly. He struck a chord and strummed with his thumb, his fingers sliding into the next one and then into a third as he reacquainted himself with the instrument. While the guitar might be old, it did have a lovely sound and the strings held their key as he played the Duty Song. Once that had ended he moved on to Moreta's, but his relief at finally having an instrument in his hands was short lived.
His fingers were beginning to betray him.
They were stiff and the joints ached. He continued on but the pain was too much - finally he stopped playing, stretching his hands to ease the cramps that threatened his momentary happiness.
"Wow, you really can play." Norah's voice surprised him. He turned to find her standing between two booths a short distance away, watching him with a strange expression on her face.
"Yes, I can - when my fingers decide to cooperate, that is." Domick sighed and stretched his hands again, flinching at the dull ache that throbbed through them. It had only been a week since the gather, so he shouldn't be this out of shape. Could it be something else? Wouldn't it be just his luck to finally receive an instrument and be struck down with joint ail. Faranth curse this world and the accident that had brought him here.
"Hands bugging you?"
He raised an eyebrow at her; What a silly question! "I should think it's rather obvious."
"Here, let me see." She sat down on the grass in front of him, close enough for their knees to touch, and held out her hand expectantly.
"Are you a healer?"
"No, but I know a thing or two." Norah wiggled her fingers. "C'mon. I promise to be gentle."
"I fail to see why I should trust you if you don't trust me."
She blushed. "You heard that last night?"
"A bit."
"Look, in my defense..."
"You only just met me and barely know me."
"Okay, so you caught that part too."
"Bliss explained to me, before she brought me here, that no one would believe who I was because it was impossible. But I am Domick; I don't have amnesia and I'm not suffering from some sort of mental break down or a fugue state."
"I understand that - you've said it multiple times... But try to think of it from our point of view. It would be like... what's her name... Moreta showing up at the Harper Hall."
"Not possible. Moreta is dead and has been for years."
"But who's to say that she didn't just miss-time her jumps between? At least I gathered that what she was doing from those books of Bliss's - how else could one visit so many places in one day? Unless you happen to be a wizard and have access to a time turner..."
"It wasn't common knowledge that going between times was possible until Lessa went brought the Oldtimers forward. For the longest time it was believed that she and her dragon had made so many trips to various holds around Pern that they were tired, but if they were timing it then I suppose that may have been what actually happened." She was staring at him as he spoke, her head canted a little to one side and eyes a tad wide with either surprise or shock... he couldn't really tell. Now he understood why Bliss had advised him not to speak of Pern.
"Okay," Norah drawled out the word into two long syllables that lasted several whole notes each. "Thank you for that information, professor - but do you understand how crazy this all sounds now? Why it's so hard for us to believe what you're saying? You guys would probably treat her with the same wariness that I'm treating you until you could get to the bottom of it. However, you would have it easier finding out the truth because you have dragons who could communicate with her dragon. Us? We just have to go off of ID cards, fingerprints, and dental records to prove someone is who they say they are. You didn't have an ID card, and you're not in any system so... how do we know you're not just stringing us along, and will kill us while we're sleeping or run off with all of our money?"
"Pretending to be an amnesiac is a rather elaborate plan just to make off with a few bits of paper."
"People have done crazier things." She sighed. "But there's more to it than that - I have a son to worry about and there are other kids running around Pembroke too. I want to make sure they're safe."
Ah, yes, the son she had mentioned. He understood her wariness a little better now as mothers were always protective of their children - or so he understood, his own mother had been far too busy with his other brothers and sisters to bother much with him as a child. "I admit I may not have the best patience with children sometimes, but I would never abuse one."
"Good. If I do find out that you have hurt anyone, then please know that there are several sharp implements at this faire and people who know how to use them." She smiled. "Now that that is out of the way, and you hopefully understand where I am coming from better, let me apologize for not giving you much of a chance - though to be honest there hasn't been much of an opportunity to give you a chance since I've pretty much been forcing information down your throat ever since you got here or we've been working."
He smiled; it was true, his time with her had been filled with her showing him this or that and explaining what it was. And when he wasn't learning, they were busy doing the type of manual labor he hadn't had to suffer through since he was a journeyman. "And when we're not doing that, I'm sleeping."
"We're clear then?"
"Yes, your rambling attempt at an apology is accepted. Normally you're much more forward and direct."
"Well, this is a special situation." She wiggled her fingers again. "Now give me your hand."
"What are you going to do?" He asked, but he set aside the guitar and placed his hand in hers.
She turned his hand over so the palm faced up and ran her thumb over the lines that criss crossed it. He flinched at the touch - so soft and gentle, so surprisingly intimate - but if Norah noticed she made no sign of it. Instead she pursed her lips together. "Just as I thought."
"Yes?"
"Your hands are softer than mine. You haven't done a day of hard labor in your life have you?"
"Not in many years." He admitted. The only calluses he had now that he was a Master were from playing the pipes or writing music.
"Did you work with computers?"
"No, the one you showed me was the first one I had seen outside of the healer hall." He pulled his hand away from hers. "Now that you have explained where you are 'coming from' and why you feel the way you do, I would ask that you please respect me and my feelings. If I ever remember something else - which is doubtful - I will let you know. Until then please don't try to prod me for memories that don't exist."
"Got it. Hand please, I wasn't done." Domick sighed and let her take his hand again. "Now the reason why I was bringing up the hard labor thing is because this happened to me when I first came here. Harris suffered from it too." She held his hand between hers but the intimate moment was ruined when she suddenly dug her thumbs into his palm, massaging the tendons and muscles. He sucked in a quick breath and bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from crying out in pain. She would injure him permanently if she kept this up! He debated if he should pull his hand away, but her grip on his hand was strong, and, slowly, the pain was actually beginning to fade. "When you just sit at a desk all day, your body isn't used to doing anything strenuous. Sure you can go to a gym and work out but that's not really the same thing as doing heavy lifting and cleaning like we did yesterday."
"Isn't there numbweed or something that can help with the pain?" He asked.
"There's icy hot, it's not quite the same as numbweed, but it helps with sore muscles. It doesn't really work on hands though. Or feet. Switch." Norah released his hand and he let her take the other one. He closed his eyes, focusing on her voice and trying to ignore the severe pain. "You're handling this way better than he ever did."
"He?"
"Harris." Her hands slid up to his wrist and his forearm and start working on the muscles there.
"So you two were friends once?" There was a pause, and he opened his eyes to find her frowning at his arm. "I'm sorry, you said it wasn't any of my business."
"It isn't. But yes we were, once. Seeing him the other night was a bit of a shock - it's been about seven years since he was last here." Norah's thumbs dug into his arm ferociously and he couldn't help but wince. "Sorry, there was a knot there." She sat back, freeing his hand from her abuse. "How does that feel? Better?"
Domick stretched his hands out, splaying his fingers as wide as they could go and then closing them into fists. They were still sore but... "Yes, much better."
"Good." She stood and dusted off her pants. "Now c'mon, dinner's waiting."