I do not own The Inheritance Cycle.
This take place not long after Side Story 4 (Regal).
Anyhow, enjoy,


Safe

A young child, no more than six years of age, puzzled over a green inked word with her brows puckered and her bottom lip wedged between her teeth. She knew that the book was meant for those older than herself, but she wanted to try to read some the bigger words. Co-sist-y-de… coe-sent-ied… coe-sea-ate-ade… No, those were no the correct sounds for the letters. Muirgheal shook her head and sighed unhappily. Why could she not remember the sounds that went with this word? Why must the word be so tricky? It wasn't fair for words to be so hard to sound out, and yet they were. Words were always hard for her to read, and she didn't like that.

Muirgheal sighed again, and looked up from the book. She truly wished she had not been forced outside and into the gardens when there were so many people about. People were not safe, and not safe was bad.

It was Cordelia's fault that she forced to be outside with so many unsafe people. Muirgheal had fought with Cordelia from the moment she told her where they were heading and what they were going to do. She had cried, and screamed, and even hit Cordelia. Hitting was a bad thing to do, Muirgheal knew this because Tornac told her so, but she did it anyhow because she did not want to go outside with unsafe strangers.

Strangers were not safe. Strangers were not safe like her father and his sky-monster were not safe; they were not safe like playing close to the window in her chambers were not safe; they were not safe like that mean knife man with all his bad talking was not safe; they were not safe like running in the hallways were not safe. And if something was not safe than it should be avoided, Cordelia had told her that, but then why did she bring Muirgheal outside with strangers? Did she think it was safe? If she did, she was silly to think so.

Muirgheal shifted in her seat, her bottom was starting to hurt and the dress Cordelia put her in was itching at her shoulders. She didn't like the dress either, it always itched her shoulders and it was yellow. Yellow was an ugly color.

A bony hand touched her shoulder, causing Muirgheal to start and look up into Cordelia's flat grey eyes. Cordelia's thin lips turned upwards into a soft smile. When she smiled, Muirgheal thought, she looked less old and sad, and Cordelia always looks old and sad. "Go play, Muirgheal," the child flinched when Cordelia called her by her name. Being called that name was never safe. "I believe they are about to begin a game of Jingling. Would you not like to play Jingling with the other children?"

Muirgheal shook her head. No, she would not like play Jingling with the other children.

"Muirgheal," said Cordelia losing her smile to her usual scowl, "you are not here to read, you are outside to play."

"I want to read," Muirgheal said softly, looking down.

"You will have time to read later. Now hand me the book, Muirgheal."

Frowning, Muirgheal turned her head and looked at Cordelia out of the corner of her eyes and bit her lip. She highly doubted Cordelia would give her the book back, and Muirgheal really wanted to figure out that word.

"I do not want to," said Muirgheal.

"Whether you wish to or not, you are going to play. Now hand me the book, Muirgheal." Cordelia said, pulling Muirgheal off the wooden bench by her arms. Huffing with displeasure, Muirgheal gave Cordelia the book and looked down. She really did not want to play with the children, it was not safe. "There's a good girl. Now, off you go."

Cordelia gave the child a light push forward, and Muirgheal stumbled forward looking back at the woman uncertainly. Waving Muirgheal on, Cordelia turn away and said something to a petite woman with so much powder on her face and paint on her lips that she resembled a goose. Smiling at the thought of a goose-woman, Muirgheal creep forward and looked at the group of giggling girls.

She counted the girls and found that there were five of them, all of them were either smiling or laughing. They didn't look unsafe, but Muirgheal wasn't confident that they were safe.

As she approached a girl with black curls tied back with pale green ribbons looked up at her, and a scowl distorted her chipmunk like face. Muirgheal knew who she was because she had meet her three days ago, Tristana had a big purple welt on her arm to prove this. Tristana scowled deeply at her, and Muirgheal frowned back. Now she knew that these girls were not safe.

A girl that looked like the older sister of Tristana, whispered something into Tristana's ear and pointed in Muirgheal's direction, and Muirgheal froze as the older sister nodded at a now very cross looking Tristana. Muirgheal watched unmoving as Tristana crossed her arms across her chest and walked toward her, when Tristana was a yard away she stopped walking and looked Muirgheal in the eyes.

"Hello, Muirgheal," she said, but she did not sound happy to see Muirgheal at all. "I am sorry for the mean words I said, will you forgive me?"

Muirgheal blinked at her and looked down for a moment before looking back up at Tristana's dark eyes. "I suppose, yes," she paused, remembering that she ought to apologize as well. "I am sorry for hitting you."

Tristana's eyes brighten making her look a lot less mean and she held out her hand to Muirgheal. "You want to play with us?" she asked, "We're playing Jingling and need someone to be the Jinglier. Do you want to be the Jinglier?"

Studying her for a short moment, Muirgheal nodded in reply, deciding that maybe playing Jingling was safe as long as Cordelia was there to watch. Tristana smiled at her and when Muirgheal smile shyly back, she grasped Muirgheal's hand. This caused Muirgheal to jump back and yank her hand from Tristana's grip. Tristana glance at her and opened her mouth to speak, but seeming to think better of it she closed her mouth and singled Muirgheal to come instead.

When they walked to the grouping of girls together, the other girls looked up and greeted them. "Ysbail," Tristana said to the girl that looked like her, "Muirgheal says she will be the Jinglier."

"Did you?" asked Ysbail, turning to Muirgheal. Muirgheal nodded. "That's good because no one was wanting to be the Jinglier, and you can't play Jingling without a Jinglier. Oh, I'm called Ysbail and you know my sister Tristana."

"That she does," Tristana said, rubbing her arm. "Idelle, could you get the bells, I don't remember were we put them."

A small girl with wavy hair the color of wheat, smiled toothily at her. "I get, I get," she said merrily, running off to the edge of a stone fountain. When Idelle returned she was carrying a looped ribbon with many shining bells tied to it, which she handed to Muirgheal, before giggling excitedly and hopping sideways on both her feet. Smiling at Idelle, Muirgheal felt the smoothness of the brass bells before placing the silky ribbon around her neck.

"You know how to play Jingling?" A girl, with waist length carroty colored hair, asked.

Muirgheal bit her bottom lip nervously. She had never played Jingling before, but she has seen other children play the game and she thought knew how to play it. "I think I do," she said quickly.

Tristana opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted by her sister. "It is easy, don't let us catch you," Ysbail explained.

"And keep the bells on, so we can hear you," the last girl said, she was holding colored sashes and as she spoke she began to hand them out.

Muirgheal nodded and watched as the girls cover their eyes with the sashes, and Idelle who needed help turned to her.

"P'ease?" she asked holding up the blue sash. Muirgheal nodded in understanding and warily placed the sash over her eyes and tied it in a handsome bow, like Cordelia had taught her to, behind her head. When she was done, Muirgheal stepped back, the bells dinging loudly around her neck, and watched at Idelle nodded. "'sank you," Idelle said.

When all the girls were equally blindfolded, they began the game. In that one happy afternoon while they played a game of Jingling all worries of what was safe and what was not was forgotten as Muirgheal ran and jumped and played, until the dinner bell rang over the gardens and the children bid each other farewell.


A/N: The word Muirgheal/Rose was trying to read was "cosseted".
Jingling was a game played in the Middle Ages: where all the player are blindfolded except for 'It' or in this case the 'jinglier'. 'It' is given a string of bells and the players must try to catch him or her. The person who catches 'It' is 'It' for the next game.