--I invented Sunaa way back in the day when I first read Broken Sky. I used her as an alter-ego in the Broken Sky Yahoo Group I was a member of and wrote many fanfics about her, all unfinished. I felt I should finally give her what she deserved, a completed story. And this is it. :) I also feel that the wonderful character of Tochaa has been neglected; so in an indirect way I hope to redress the balance slightly. -Sus--
Rap, rap, rap. There was someone at the door.
Sunaa froze in the act of lighting a match. Her heart began to beat fast. Surely no…
Her unseen visitor rapped again. It was a quiet knock - a respectful knock. This did nothing to still Sunaa's fear. She would have preferred a loud and boisterous knock; one of her friends, she could have told herself, perhaps Lalicq, excited and wanting to show her some bargain she had picked up at the market or gossip about her daughter's latest suitor. No one from Parakka would knock like that. But this quiet tapping; this was exactly the knock she had feared.
Maybe they would think her absent and leave. She was half afraid and half hopeful – she wouldn't have to give up hope, she wouldn't have to know. The match was burning down. She watched the flame as it slowly consumed the match. Soon it would burn her, but she didn't blow it out. Little 'Chaa stirred on his sleeping mat, in the midst of some dream. She was glad it was his nap time; otherwise he would have run to the door and answered it for her, chanting "Daddy, daddy!" all the way. She could not have borne his unquenchable hope in the face of her despair.
Her tormentor knocked for the third and probably final time. The flame burned her finger. Sunna flinched and shook the match out, throwing it onto the unlit pile of wood that would have been her cooking fire. She had quite lost her appetite now. She crossed the one room that she had lately shared only with her son of five winters.
She stood in front of the door and quickly adjusted her purple hair, tied in a knot high on her head. Taking a deep breath, Sunaa opened the door.
"Are you Sunaa?" asked a deep, low voice.
She nodded and took a step backwards, wide eyed, shocked least by the size of her visitor, though it was formidable. He was a huge man; well built with muscle as well as fat, bald on top and with a neat goatee and handlebar moustache. All this was not so disconcerting as the shock of seeing a Dominion-born man in Omnicaa, however.
And not only a man, but a child also, Sunaa saw, with the most vivid shock of green hair imaginable. He was watching the streets and seemed to be concentrating hard on some mental task. The big man glanced at the boy and then anxiously back to Sunaa.
In his movement the sparse light from the Kirin sun caught on something around the man's neck that made Sunaa's blood freeze inside her veins. His pendant. The one his father gave him… the one he would never have taken off willingly.
"Oh, spirits…" she whispered. Her visitor looked at her with eyes full of compassion and pain.
"May we come in?" he asked quietly.
Sunaa nodded soundlessly and took a further step back into the room to allow the Dominion man and boy into her home. At that moment someone's pak-pak called loudly in the street outside, and young Tochaa opened his eyes. He saw his mother standing at the open door, and said sleepily "Father..?"
A single tear slid down Sunaa's smooth grey cheek and dropped from her jaw to the fabric of her white dress.
"No, 'Chaa."
She shut the door.
Rap, rap, rap. There was someone at the door.
Sunaa froze in the act of lighting a match. Her heart began to beat fast. Surely no…
Her unseen visitor rapped again. It was a quiet knock - a respectful knock. This did nothing to still Sunaa's fear. She would have preferred a loud and boisterous knock; one of her friends, she could have told herself, perhaps Lalicq, excited and wanting to show her some bargain she had picked up at the market or gossip about her daughter's latest suitor. No one from Parakka would knock like that. But this quiet tapping; this was exactly the knock she had feared.
Maybe they would think her absent and leave. She was half afraid and half hopeful – she wouldn't have to give up hope, she wouldn't have to know. The match was burning down. She watched the flame as it slowly consumed the match. Soon it would burn her, but she didn't blow it out. Little 'Chaa stirred on his sleeping mat, in the midst of some dream. She was glad it was his nap time; otherwise he would have run to the door and answered it for her, chanting "Daddy, daddy!" all the way. She could not have borne his unquenchable hope in the face of her despair.
Her tormentor knocked for the third and probably final time. The flame burned her finger. Sunna flinched and shook the match out, throwing it onto the unlit pile of wood that would have been her cooking fire. She had quite lost her appetite now. She crossed the one room that she had lately shared only with her son of five winters.
She stood in front of the door and quickly adjusted her purple hair, tied in a knot high on her head. Taking a deep breath, Sunaa opened the door.
"Are you Sunaa?" asked a deep, low voice.
She nodded and took a step backwards, wide eyed, shocked least by the size of her visitor, though it was formidable. He was a huge man; well built with muscle as well as fat, bald on top and with a neat goatee and handlebar moustache. All this was not so disconcerting as the shock of seeing a Dominion-born man in Omnicaa, however.
And not only a man, but a child also, Sunaa saw, with the most vivid shock of green hair imaginable. He was watching the streets and seemed to be concentrating hard on some mental task. The big man glanced at the boy and then anxiously back to Sunaa.
In his movement the sparse light from the Kirin sun caught on something around the man's neck that made Sunaa's blood freeze inside her veins. His pendant. The one his father gave him… the one he would never have taken off willingly.
"Oh, spirits…" she whispered. Her visitor looked at her with eyes full of compassion and pain.
"May we come in?" he asked quietly.
Sunaa nodded soundlessly and took a further step back into the room to allow the Dominion man and boy into her home. At that moment someone's pak-pak called loudly in the street outside, and young Tochaa opened his eyes. He saw his mother standing at the open door, and said sleepily "Father..?"
A single tear slid down Sunaa's smooth grey cheek and dropped from her jaw to the fabric of her white dress.
"No, 'Chaa."
She shut the door.