Disclaimer: This time nearly everything, including characters and plot idea belongs to Mercedes Lackey. The song and lyrics belong to Blink-182. I own nothing but the writing, sadly.
Just clearing up a little writer's block with this song-fic. I've never written a song-fic before, or a one shot, but I'm going to try my hand at it. Reviews are loved, so is constructive criticism.
Remember this passage from Arrows Flight?
"Talia shook her head sadly, remembering. It wasn't quite true that she hadn't gone back to the Hold- she had, once, last year. She'd gone back in the hopes of rescuing her sister Vrisa- to discover that Vris had changed, changed past all recognition. Vris was a Firstwife now, with status, and three Underwives to rule. She'd regarded Talia as if she were a demon- when she thought Talia wasn't looking, she made holy signs against her. In point of fact, she looked and acted enough like Keldar, the Firstwife who'd done her best to break Talia's rebellious spirit, to have been Keldar's younger self. She not only didn't want rescue, she'd been horrified by the idea."
Well, this is a song-fic telling the story of when Talia went back.
Reminders"Last night, it came as a picture
With a good reason, a warning sign"
Talia was eleven again. Vrisa ran out of the house, apron flying out behind her, long straight hair doing the same. When she reached the spot where Talia was carding wool, she fell to the ground, sobbing. "Talia, Talia, they are going to Marry me off!"
Talia gasped in shock and dismay. "To who?"
"Old Man Fletcher." Vris sobbed miserably, as well she might. Even young as she was, Talia knew of Igor Fletcher's reputation with his wives.
Talia and Vris both knew that there would be no reprieve, for the word of the Husband was law. Vrisa would go as an Underwife to Fletcher.
Talia began to sob too. Vrisa, closer than a sister, the best friend Talia had ever had. The only one who would ever risk anything to help her when she was being punished for another inadvertent deviance.
"Talia, Talia, help me, save me." Vrisa sobbed.
Talia started out of sleep. It was nearly a full Candlemark until the time when the bell would usually ring to summon her from sleep and to breakfast and classes.
Talia picked up her mending basket and began to sew up a rip in one of her tunics. An old habit from her Holderkin days, she could never think without a task in her hands.
"I couldn't help you, Vrisa." She said softly. "I had no power, no authority, and yet, when they took you away, I felt as though there was something I should have done." A hot tear rolled down Talia's cheek as she remembered as though it was yesterday the day they had taken her best friend away.
She also remembered, only a moon or so later, seeing Vrisa at a gathering and saying hello. Vris had looked at her dumbly, barely seeing. The once smoldering fire of intelligence and wit in her eyes had vanished, leaving behind only ashes and death. Worse yet, Talia, who had been beaten before, and knew the signs, could see recent looking bruises on Vrisa's neck and shoulders.
"I wish I could go back for you, Vrisa. You deserved better than that. I am a Heraldic Trainee now, and I shall be Queen's Own. Surely Selenay would protect you for my sake."
Then it hit her. Why couldn't she go? She had a holiday coming up, and two weeks would certainly get her there and back, even carrying double on the way back.
She would talk to Selenay after Council, and ask if she could be spared for a couple of weeks.
Although she couldn't MindSpeak Rolan, she could feel him following her train of thought. She had probably jolted him awake again with her raw emotions. Damn and blast this Gift!
She could feel him agreeing with her, and feel his support for her venture, although he was wary. Of taking her back to the place that had hurt her so much, Talia supposed. She sent him a wordless burst of love, and got back into bed, feeling that she might be able to snag half a Candlemark more of sleep before the bell.
"I failed this effort
I brought a reminder, this wasn't a vision
This time, where are you, Houston?
Is somebody out there, will somebody listen?"
Talia crouched low over Rolan's neck, silently willing him to go faster. Since there was no real danger, she would not force him to his fastest pace, but she could not help but begrudge every minute wasted, as it was one minute more that Vrisa would have to endure in slavery.
Talia felt a sense of guilt. She remembered her words about her family. "They don't want me, well I don't want them. Not ever!"
She had failed. She had sworn to herself that she would put all of that behind her. She had a new family now, one that loved her and cared for her just as she was. She didn't need the Holderkin to recognize her, she had told herself countless times.
And yet, being the only Holderkin Herald was harder than she had expected. Even after three years, there were still times when other people's reactions just puzzled her, were so totally the opposite of what she expected them to do.
It would be wonderful to have Vrisa around again.
Rolan, however, from what Talia could sense, wasn't so happy about this trip. She could sense a warning coming from him, a cautioning, like he thought something would go wrong.
Talia refused to trance deeper to where he could give her a better idea, she didn't want this trip spoiled. Still, Rolan was uneasy, and it worried her.
"Should I go back, should I go back, should I?
I feel alone and tired
Should I go back, should I go back, should I?
I hope I won't forget you."
Talia had ridden into Holderkin lands that morning, ignoring the disapproving looks she received from everyone who saw her. She could feel the fear and disapproval coming off of them in waves. Many of them even made holy signs in her direction when they thought her back was turned. 'Such impudence!' She could almost hear them think. 'A girl child, presuming to be a Herald!'
Talia rode through the Steading, ignoring the glances. She would rather not have subjected Rolan to them, but she wanted his ability to flee quickly if things got nasty.
Even after three years, her internal map of Sensholding and the surrounding area was still good. She saw some people she recognized, but they did not know her after all these years, so she said nothing.
She rode up to the house she knew as Old Man Fletcher's, and knocked on the door firmly, stuffing her anxiety into a far away mental cupboard.
A moment later, the door opened. A woman with long, straight brown hair, dressed in severe Holderkin clothing looked out sternly.
"Yes, Herald?" She asked, pretending courtesy, but sneering on the last word, and assuming that Talia was a full Herald because of the Companion.
'This must be the Firstwife. Poor Vrisa, being ruled by such a one. She looks just like Keldar.'
"I am looking for Igor Fletcher's Underwife, Vrisa?" Talia asked firmly.
"Underwife? Fletcher has passed on long ago. She is now Firstwife to his son." The woman said haughtily.
"May I speak with her?" Talia asked.
"This is she, Herald." Vrisa said, again sneering on the last word. "What may I do for you?"
"May I come in?" Talia asked hesitantly. If Vrisa was putting on a mask of the perfect Firstwife, it was certainly a good one. "I have something to tell you that might be better in private."
"We don't want one such as you in our house, Herald. Say what you have to say and begone."
Talia closed her eyes, took a deep breath and said "Vrisa, it's me, Talia, I've come to rescue you."
"Talia?" Vrisa said, without surprise. "Still haven't resigned yourself to a woman's proper place in life? Well, I have. I am a Firstwife now, with three Underwives to rule. Get along with you, you abomination. Why would I want 'rescued?' It is you that should be rescued from your blasphemous ideas. Now get out before I call my Husband to deal with you."
As she slammed the door and bolted it, Talia could see Vrisa make the holy sign against evil.
Talia had no idea how long she stood there in shock, staring at the door.
Rolan nudged her, and, as if in a dream, or a nightmare, more accurately, she mechanically climbed into the saddle. Her discipline was such that she would not show her weakness and unworthiness to be a Herald before other people, but as soon as she and Rolan were alone, she sobbed unrestrainedly into his mane.
"My head is made up of memories
Most of them useless, delusions"
'She really loved me, once. I know she did.' Talia thought. 'She was miserable with Fletcher, she hated Keldar as much as I did, and now she's practically turned into Keldar. What could have happened to change her so much?'
It was tempting to believe that Vrisa had been acting out of fear, and hadn't really meant her harsh words, but Talia had to be honest with herself. 'She was all alone in the house. She could have come with me if she wanted to.'
The memory of Vrisa, the only sister who had ever loved her, making the sign against evil towards her hurt like barely anything had ever hurt before. She would rather that the Holderfolk had tried to pull her off of Rolan's back and have her beaten, at least then there would be something to fight.
Talia started sobbing, louder and louder, not having to restrain herself as they were alone in a wide-open stretch of grass. Talia could feel Rolan trying to comfort her, but nothing made it better.
Talia remembered the games she and Vris had played together, all the times Vris had risked punishment to sneak Talia forbidden food. They had confided in each other, been closer than anyone Talia had known until she met Jadus, Jeri, Keren and Sherrill.
'What changed?' The question tormented Talia.
"Should I go back, should I go back, should I?
I feel alone and tired
Should I go back, should I go back, should I?
This time, I don't want to"
That night, at the Waystation they stopped at, the same one Rolan had taken Talia to when she was Chosen, Talia slept beside Rolan, felt him bathe her in his love.
She felt more regret than she could ever express that Vrisa had chosen not to join her. It would still bring her grief on long lonely nights, but it was Vrisa's choice. No matter how much she wanted to, Talia could not change that.
'If I sent the whole Army up there to free the women, many of them would tell me to mind my own business. It is their choice, not mine. I just wish there was a way to free those like me before they turn into her.'
Talia could feel Rolan's approval and support as she sobbed herself to sleep on his shoulder, indulging one last time in the luxury of tears for the only real sister she had ever known.