Until I Wake

Recurrence

- 1-1 -

~ * ~

Hail, fair sun, Spirit of the Day.

Rise of the morn to light my way.

~ *~


The maiden, bided by the name of Van Tassle, felt at peace with her two newfound friends.  Glancing at the stern, yet tranquil profile of the man she clung to, Katrina couldn't help the smile that rose to her lips.  This new setting they had entered – this wondrous New York – seemingly made him… calmer.  Then again, this city did lack headless demons on the rampage.

"It is very kind of you to offer is your home," the lady stated, her eyes still set on the man beside her.  Ichabod smiled, returning her look momentarily.  As she waited for his answer, Katrina studied his expression, realizing just how little he showed the gift that was his smile.  Yes, he had smiled before, but it was either out of explanation or of embarrassment.  But now, he smiled for her.

"As I had wanted," Ichabod returned, glancing back to check on the young follower behind him.  "I do have more reason than the basis of your loss; your loved ones."

Katrina's smile faltered at the reminder, but then replaced itself at his statement.  "You always have reason.  Never a whim."

"Sir," Masbath interrupted, astonishment welling in his voice.  The boy hurried his pace to join stride with the taller man, his eyes locked ahead of him.  Ichabod sent him a questioning look, following his gaze.  Before them rested two buildings, one beautiful, the other heeding dread unto the Constable.

"Such tall buildings they are.  Whom do they house?"  Ichabod chuckled at the younger's statement and patted him on the shoulder despite the bag strap that hung from it.

"The white one in the distance is the church.  Did you not realize it from the cross at its peak?"

Masbath smiled sheepishly, ducking his head slightly.  "And the other?"

"That," Ichabod continued, his cheer slipping from his mind, "is the Municipal Building.  We will be visiting it in the morning."

"I see," Katrina countered, her brow furrowing.  "That is the residence that claims to have such better judgment than both you an I, as well as the entirety of Sleepy Hollow.  They have my pity, to be such fools as to not deem a legend on hand."

"No need for controversy, Katrina," the Constable replied, his own voice corrupted with disdain.  "I have proof and witnesses, do I not?"

The groups' chattering quickly died, their spirits lifting once more with their destination greeting them.  The crowd of dwellers dissipated, for the three had left the main area of the busy uptown.  Katrina and Masbath's view settled on a house, tucked between two others, quaint in every way.  Though smaller than Van Tassle Manor, Katrina was struck from words.  A home that held such pleasures and love as this was twice as wonderful as the larger, despite the loss of blood-linked family.  Once again glancing at the two men beside her, the woman reminded herself that for the family she had lost, she gained two significant individuals more.

~ * ~

The house, though not as elaborate as some may be, was a peculiar, yet fascinating sight to young Masbath.  Such luxuries were foreign to him, and now, to be living amongst them, he was grateful.  No, not grateful for his father's death, or his choice of leaving the very place he was birthed, but grateful for a home that was actually meant for a human being.  Enormously unlike his past residence.

The boy was shown to a room by which he could graciously call his own; small, but large enough to be comfortable.  Master Crane had been kind enough to take him, a penniless orphan, in, of course, and even gave him a view of the entire town through the window at his bedside.  He smiled, noticing that his room was both nicer and larger than that of the one the Constable had stayed in at the manor in Sleepy Hollow.  It was blanketed with light as well, more so than he had thought possible.

What young Masbath saw as even more of a fine luxury was the furniture that flourished the room.  It consisted of a bed, dresser, desk, and a bookcase with few books filling its shelf.  It had obviously served as the guest room of the house, but it held no matter to him.  He was just a guest, but to a larger extent, he was finally home.

~ * ~

It was now Katrina's turn to admire the quarters she was given.  They were much like her own at Van Tassle Manor, albeit a bit dusty from lack of use.  It was larger than Masbath's, she had seen, and by the furnishing: a large desk, bookcase stocked with novels, chest as well as a dresser, lavish fireplace and bay window; she could tell that it had been Constable Crane's own master bedroom.  He had offered it to her without accepting any decline on her part, and had left her to unpack.

Silently thanking Masbath for carrying her luggage in earlier – which had all been hers save the single bag that was left of Ichabod's luggage – Katrina began her chore.  The dresser, emptied by her would-be suitor, was of pure oak, several dark knots shrouding its surface.  Opening the cupboards, she unfolded her dresses from their places in her bags and quickly hung them on the single rod inside, blushing to herself as the closet space narrowed.  Finished there, she packed her corsets, shoes, cloak, bonnets, and shawls in the drawers beneath it, then hid the bags behind the structure.  Taking a final glance about to get her bearings, Katrina exited her new apartment, a bit paranoid by her nervousness.

Crossing the hall, the woman of mind rapped on the already opened door across from hers, peering inside at the figure seated at a desk similar to the one lining the wall of her room.  Ichabod looked up and greeted her with a forced smile, his eyes abruptly drifting back to the staunch parchment in his hand.

"You have a letter?" Katrina asked, stepping to his side to look as well unto the paper.  Ichabod gave a sigh in return, letting the letter in question fall onto the wooden surface of the desk.

"Not one I had been looking forward to."

~ * ~