Chapter 27: Are you happy right now?
"Varielle?" Simarell knocked again. "Varielle?"
"Come on in, Arell," she said. She was seated cross-legged on her bed, brushing her hair. It hung down to her waist except for a small tuft by one temple. "What's that from?" he brushed it with a finger.
"I needed a tourniquet," she said.
"And you used the braid?"
"It was handy. I'd run out of other things short of ripping my sleeves off."
"Are you alright?"
"No."
"You're not. You're admitting it. What's wrong? Was it the bout this afternoon, you shouldn't push so hard…" He saw her face and trailed off.
"Partway through, Admiral Sadderve, Edan Fu'ulknara and Master Yeren came in."
"So?"
"Daniel was with them."
"So?"
"So I was beating three guys wearing a rag around my head so I couldn't see a thing, and the crew were taking bets. They acted like me being able to do that was normal."
"Well, alright, you're a bit better than most people…"
"It freaked him out."
"Freaked who out?" She looked at him like he was an idiot, but it was overlaying misery.
"You really like him, don't you?"
"It's not mutual."
"Varielle…"
"Arell, I'm seventeen. We're supposed to have hopeless crushes at this age."
"Hopeless?"
"He's twice my age and if I don't get killed in combat I could live to be two hundred. He's got loyalties to his people and me to mine. He's been married and lost one wife in a war already."
"Kids?"
"No. And he's lost people, Arell. His parents, friends, his wife Sha're and I don't know how many homes. We've just lost our father, Arell, and I lost a bunch of my best friends. As if that weren't enough, he's started to understand what I can do when I put my mind to it and he's scared of me."
"You're sure he was scared of you?"
"He's scared of what I can do. He knows, in his head, that capacity doesn't equal intent, but he's still scared underneath. Just like he scares me."
"He scares you?"
"He's got the kind of moral sense that's above reproach. He doesn't know how to break. When it comes to right and wrong or sheer mule-headed stubbornness, he makes our father look limp as a noodle in comparison. Someone like that…" she sighed. "I guess he scares me because I don't think I can live up to that ideal."
"Oh, Varielle," he hugged her as best he could. "You do have a knack for landing in the shit, don't you?"
"Why didn't I just go for a nice quiet job as a court mediator?"
"Hearing complaints about granny's best bedspread and uncle's wart medication and who broke the glass pitcher?"
"Oh. Right. That." They shared sad weary chuckles before pulling apart. "Varielle?" he said. "Tell me something seriously. Are you happy right now?"
"Not really. No."
"Varielle?" Simarell knocked again. "Varielle?"
"Come on in, Arell," she said. She was seated cross-legged on her bed, brushing her hair. It hung down to her waist except for a small tuft by one temple. "What's that from?" he brushed it with a finger.
"I needed a tourniquet," she said.
"And you used the braid?"
"It was handy. I'd run out of other things short of ripping my sleeves off."
"Are you alright?"
"No."
"You're not. You're admitting it. What's wrong? Was it the bout this afternoon, you shouldn't push so hard…" He saw her face and trailed off.
"Partway through, Admiral Sadderve, Edan Fu'ulknara and Master Yeren came in."
"So?"
"Daniel was with them."
"So?"
"So I was beating three guys wearing a rag around my head so I couldn't see a thing, and the crew were taking bets. They acted like me being able to do that was normal."
"Well, alright, you're a bit better than most people…"
"It freaked him out."
"Freaked who out?" She looked at him like he was an idiot, but it was overlaying misery.
"You really like him, don't you?"
"It's not mutual."
"Varielle…"
"Arell, I'm seventeen. We're supposed to have hopeless crushes at this age."
"Hopeless?"
"He's twice my age and if I don't get killed in combat I could live to be two hundred. He's got loyalties to his people and me to mine. He's been married and lost one wife in a war already."
"Kids?"
"No. And he's lost people, Arell. His parents, friends, his wife Sha're and I don't know how many homes. We've just lost our father, Arell, and I lost a bunch of my best friends. As if that weren't enough, he's started to understand what I can do when I put my mind to it and he's scared of me."
"You're sure he was scared of you?"
"He's scared of what I can do. He knows, in his head, that capacity doesn't equal intent, but he's still scared underneath. Just like he scares me."
"He scares you?"
"He's got the kind of moral sense that's above reproach. He doesn't know how to break. When it comes to right and wrong or sheer mule-headed stubbornness, he makes our father look limp as a noodle in comparison. Someone like that…" she sighed. "I guess he scares me because I don't think I can live up to that ideal."
"Oh, Varielle," he hugged her as best he could. "You do have a knack for landing in the shit, don't you?"
"Why didn't I just go for a nice quiet job as a court mediator?"
"Hearing complaints about granny's best bedspread and uncle's wart medication and who broke the glass pitcher?"
"Oh. Right. That." They shared sad weary chuckles before pulling apart. "Varielle?" he said. "Tell me something seriously. Are you happy right now?"
"Not really. No."