Just an FYI: the story about Katun's friends is up and finished in "What May Turn Ice into Fire." You don't have to read it to understand this but it'll prove entertaining in-between updates and may shed some additional light on previous events. Thank you for your patience and continued interest in this story. Let me know your thoughts on character development, and perhaps even some requests for future interactions between both the OC and regular characters. Cheers!
"Have you seen anyone like her before Da?" Tilda asked from somewhere behind him. The girl was rarely in one spot for very long (a trait she'd inherited from her mother) so Bard could only assume that she was in the process of setting the table for dinner since the beginning of the question began off to his right and ended off to his left.
He shook his head and answered after he finished taste-testing the stew, "I have not." It needed more spice but they had little offer by way of that, no funds to pay for such things, and so it would have to do.
"What does she look like?" His son Bain asked, having already sat down at the table.
"She's rather dark." Bard looked at Tilda over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows. The girl swallowed and quickly added. "I mean her skin is darker than ours, like she's always in the sunshine or something akin to that. But she's pretty, in an exotic way. She's not very tall though; she has broad shoulders and," Tilda stopped and Bard glanced at her over his shoulder to see that she was touching her own hips, "she's wider here too." Bard hid a smile and went back to stirring the stew. After Bain quieted his chuckling Tilda continued, "Her hair is beautiful though! Thick and dark like the night sky. Her eyes are darker than most that I've seen too. Her voice, well the way she speaks, it is as if she's not used to speaking our language."
Bard was impressed that his youngest had noticed and cataloged that much about the woman, and in such a short amount of time. Granted, she and Sigrid had been the two caring for her since her arrival. After he'd deposited her in his room that first night, the girls had taken over without prompting, only asking for help a few times when it came to lifting her up so that they could change out the bedsheets. He'd been right in his assumption to the woman earlier, that both Sigrid and Tilda would enjoy having another woman around. Even though she had only awakened that day, just having her in the house seemed to bring an extra ounce of confidence and surety to both of his girls that hadn't been there before.
Aside from the generalizations of her physical features that he'd seen in glimpses and the few times he'd spoken with her (he tried to shove aside the image of her half-naked in his arms just minutes prior), Bard had not had the time or opportunity to discover near as much as Tilda had. All he knew was that she had no recollection of her family, her home, or how she'd come to be in the river, dressed in elven clothing, near dead. The only reason she had a name now was because of Sigrid. Bard couldn't help but feel pity for the woman. He also couldn't imagine what fear she must feel being at the mercy of him and his family. Though it was not often an opportunity to extend the hand of friendship towards another without risking it begin bitten off came upon him, Bard would be damned if he let this opportunity pass him by. If he wanted his children to understand any shred of decency or honor, in spite of where they lived, then he would ensure that this woman was cared for.
"Tilda," Bard gestured towards the bowls on the table and waited until the girl brought them over before he spoke again, "has she remembered anything since she's woken up?"
Tilda shook her head, "No, not that I know of. Every time I asked her a question Sigrid got mad at me and told me to go pester a fish."
Bard gently stroked his hand across her hair before he handed her one of the filled bowls, "I'm sure she was worried that your questions were coming too quickly."
"Perhaps." Tilda deposited the bowl then quickly returned for another. "Sigrid helped name her." Bard waited until she returned for another bowl before he prompted her for the name, though he already knew it. "Oh, Katun I believe is what she chose. Not sure why though, Sigrid told me to go upstairs to clean up the attic while she helped Katun bathe so I didn't have a chance to ask."
Bard's hand faltered a little at the mentioning of Katun's bath but Tilda didn't seem to notice, merely receiving the bowl and setting it in place on the table. The only other woman he'd held in his arms in such a state as Katun had been earlier had been his wife, aside from his daughters when they'd been wee bairns. While he had earlier made an effort and succeeded at blocking the image and feeling from his mind, both now came back to haunt him. He shook his head until he regained his composure and finished the last of the bowls before setting the lid back on the pot. Bard made eye contact with Bain before pointing towards the bread basket, prompting the boy to slow get up and retrieve it. The sounds of footsteps on the stairs just then alerted them to the return of Sigrid and Katun and Bard rose slightly from the table when they came to stand just at the foot of the stairs. He noticed that she was dressed once more in the elvish clothing and when he looked to Sigrid for an answer she sighed.
"I'll have to alter a few of the old dresses I'm afraid." Bard looked back to Katun and saw the woman blush. He realized then that she was indeed only marginally shorter than Sigrid but her build was significantly different than any of his daughters, or even that of his wife. Tilda had been correct about her shoulders and waist. They were not unattractive in the least, the long dormant side of his mind assured him. Bard shook his head against the thought and smiled at Katun, forcibly moving his gaze away from her waist and back to her face. "Please, come sit."
Katun gave a shy smile and did as he bade, Sigrid close by her side. Only once she was seated across from him did he also sit.
"Why did you stand like that Da?" Tilda asked once Bard resumed his seat.
Sigrid answered before Bard could, "A man always stands when a lady comes into the room." She glared at her brother and Bard watched as Katun tried to hide a smile.
"What?" Bain looked confused and sheepish at the same time.
Bard reached over and ruffled his hair, earning a grunt of dislike from the boy. "It's okay son, these things you'll learn with time." He picked up his spoon and began eating the hearty stew. He waited a few moments before he spoke again, "Have they told you anything about Laketown yet?"
"Yes, Sigrid gave me a brief history lesson." She took a bite of the stew and Bard watched as a look of extreme concentration crossed her face while she chewed, the process of swallowing appearing to be a chore to her.
He raised his eyebrows when she made eye contact with him again, "Is the stew too much for you?"
"I don't think it is the stew," Katun took a quick sip of the cider Sigrid had placed in front of her, "I think it is the meat. I don't think my body is accustomed to eating meat."
His children exchanged a barely veiled look of surprise while Bard merely nodded, his eyes traveling down to take in once more the design of her clothes, before he leaned back again. If she had lived amongst the elves for a time it would make sense that she would have grown unaccustomed to eating meat such as what they ate. The elves of the forest, from what he'd been told of those who'd managed to get a closer look, ate primarily vegetables and fruit with simple game supplemented. Their fare in Laketown primarily consisted of fish or salted meats from back on shore. Sigrid got up and immediately took the bowl away from Katun before she could even begin to protest. Tilda was the first to speak again while Sigrid moved back towards the cooking area.
"Why don't you eat meat?" she asked.
Katun smiled at her. "I'm not sure. What I do remember of my people is that they are very connected to nature and perhaps being so connected to nature resulted in their giving up eating meat."
"That's strange." Bain commented. Bard shot his son a glare and his son quickly added. "I mean no one around here is like that."
Katun gave his son a smile as well, "Then I suppose it would be strange then."
Bain smiled and went back to eating. Bard gave Katun a small nod and waited until Sigrid gave Katun another bowl, this one sans meat, before he continued eating. He studied her carefully, doing his best to take in near as much detail as Tilda had. Though she'd been sick and unconscious for most of their acquaintance, Bard was aware enough of her form to know that she was strong beneath those clothes and he wouldn't have been surprised to find that when she wasn't fatigued and weak from illness that she moved with the poise and grace of a warrior. However from the slow way in which she now ate, and how concentrated her efforts seemed to be, Bard got the impression that Katun was much more fatigued than she'd like to let on. He knew any one of his children would begin pestering her again with questions and so decided to divert their attention.
"Bain, you'll accompany me on my route tomorrow." Bain looked up with eyes wide with surprise. Bard seemingly ignored the boy's delight (though he felt satisfaction over pleasing his son so easily) as he spoke to his daughters. "Tomorrow both of you will work on altering some clothes for our guest and take her for a tour of Laketown. Some fresh air will do her some good I believe." Both girls nodded, Tilda more emphatically than Sigrid. "Just don't go too far or do too much. I believe our guest needs a few more days of rest before she'll be fully recovered."
Katun's smile was one of thanks, "Thank you for your kindness Mister Bard. You've already done so much for me."
"Bard." He nodded towards her. "Please, just call me Bard. And I've not done anything that any other ordinary man would not feel the need to do."
She opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by a harsh knock at the door. Bard exchanged glances with each of his children but none of them gave an indication of expecting anyone. Bard stood and went to the door, which shuddered from another knock. He placed himself between the door and its view of the table before he opened it only slightly. The unwelcome visage on the other side of the door had his tension relenting, only slightly, and instead was replaced with annoyance.
"Is that the proper welcome a servant of the Master of Laketown should receive?" Alfrid Lickspittle tried to push his way around Bard but Bard shifted his weight to bar his way.
"What is that you want at this hour, Alfrid?" Bard continued to shield his family, and Katun, from Alfrid's view even when the man became more agitated in his attempts to get by him.
"You know that each household pays a head-tax." Alfrid finally gave up trying to get by and instead crossed his arms over his chest. "It has come to the attention of the Master that you've one additional head in your household now."
"I don't see the correlation between the two." Bard kept his voice even.
Alfrid wagged a finger in Bard's face then, "Oh yes you do, Bard the Bowman. An additional head means an additional tax. The law is the law and every citizen must obey the law. That is the only way the Master may maintain the peace and tranquility that we have in this most beauteous town. If you don't pay, she can't stay." He tipped his head up and grinned with delight over his most likely rehearsed little rhyme.
"Is that all?" Bard still kept his voice even, steeling his features against the urge to snarl at the weasel of a man.
Alfrid seemed taken aback by Bard's outward calm and faltered for words for a moment before he finally settled on, "The Master expects the addition tax come three days' time. Failure to pay will result in property seizure, as is written in the law."
Bard nodded, "Understood. Good night Alfrid." He shut the door before the man could say anything else, bolting it quickly just in case he tried to push his way inside again. When he turned to face the others he saw a look of pain on Katun's face. "What's this?"
"I cannot inconvenience you any longer. If I am to be a financial burden then I'll move on and-"
"Move on where?" Bard stepped closer to the table and stared down at the woman. "You have no knowledge of your home or your family. You have no means of payment or protection. No proof of identity or papers for travel." With each additional fact thrown in her face she seemed to lose more and more energy. Bard crouched down beside the table then and reached out to take hold of one of her hands. Though it was small he felt calloused strength in her fingers when he curled his own around them. "I cannot in good conscious allow you to leave here until you have some certainty of where it is you can go."
"But the tax-" Her voice was weak and he saw fatigue and fear both in her gaze as she stared back at him.
Bard squeezed her hand and placed his other on top of it, holding it between his own, "Don't fret over that. With Bain able to help me now we'll be able to pull in more work than before." He looked over to his son and watched his son nod reassuringly. He looked over to his daughters and they too nodded. "We will all work together to see this through, Katun. Consider this your home and we your family until you find your own."
She looked at a loss for words, her eyes traveling from his face to the faces of his children. When she looked back to him he saw a tear slipping from the corner of her eye and he wiped it away without a second thought. Perhaps when he was alone in the dark, waiting for sleep to reach him, he'd ponder why it was he felt such a need, a duty, to protect her, to stretch out his already thin resources in order to aid her. Now however, such questions were pushed from his mind. He only wanted her to be reassured and at peace.
"No more talk of your leaving." It was a statement and not a question and her smile in response made his own broaden. He gave her hand another squeeze before he stood to his full height again. "Now let's finish our dinner. We," he looked to his son as he re-took his place at the table, "have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow."
They fell back to eating in near silence then, the children being the ones to break it now and again with jests and challenges thrown across the table over this or that (as was typical for near every meal of theirs). Bard stole another glance at the woman sitting across from him and saw that she was watching him with a strange expression. When she noticed him looking at her she blushed and returned her attention back to eating, answering now and again whenever the children asked her opinion on their arguments. Bard also resumed his meal but the earlier questions he'd set aside came back. What was it about this woman that was so intriguing; that made it so easy for him to want to help her; that allowed him to loosen the ties he'd kept on his guard for so long? Those answers, he supposed, would only come as she found the answers to her own questions as well.