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Chapter Twelve: Winter of Their Discontent

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A heavy winter fog and a light dusting of snow covered the city of Moire, muffling the sounds of the waking city and dimming the streets in defiance of the rising sun. Tarai and Kayamé moved quickly through the streets, both to avoid any unfriendly company and in a effort to become warm. Winter nights were never kind even in the attic, but they were worse in an alleyway with nothing but clothes and the knowledge that the attic would probably never be a refuge from the cold again.

Tarai shivered miserably as they walked. The cold of the falling snow had woken her at least an hour before Kayamé, and she'd had plenty of time to come to a few realizations.

She couldn't help but love momma, because Yin was their mother and had, in her own jaded way, tried to raise them. However, after the debacle of last night, Tarai didn't think Yin would want to see them for a long, long time; Kayamé would probably refuse to go back there for even longer. Tarai remembered watching her fight with momma for things to take care of them with. If she had been an only child, she probably would have been gone long ago, Creator only knew to where and with what fate. For Tarai, though, she had stayed, and waited, and chafed. She had stayed, because there had been nowhere else to go, no other way to be. Except now, she had seen another way of life, a place wholly outside of momma's world. Even if there was nowhere else to go, for good or bad Kayamé had finally run from momma and her world. And Tarai, because she trusted the sister who would do anything to take care of her, had run alongside Kayamé into an unknown future.

Coming to a corner, the two paused beneath the street lamp, heads cocked to listen through the fog for the echoes that substituted for sight. Street traffic was street traffic no matter the time, and more than once they had narrowly avoided being run down by a horse or cart. Tarai closed her eyes for a moment, letting the sounds filter into intelligibility. For one reason or another, her hearing seemed to sharpen rather than diminish amidst fog and rain, so on mornings like these Kayamé trusted her to be guide.

Horse's hooves on cobblestones, echoing closer…

"That way," she declared, pointing down the street. Kayamé nodded, waiting.

A moment later a man stepped past them into the street, hearing almost to late the warning sounds. He avoided being broadsided by the horseman only by means of an undignified scurry, soiling his impracticably fine traveling clothes. The girls hurried across the street in the horse's wake, to disappear before he considered venting his anger on them. Tarai saw Kayamé shake her head in disgust at the man, and had to agree. Moire was not a city to traverse without an already functional knowledge of its layout and workings, or a good and trustworthy guide. To wander alone in clothes that screamed Money and an attitude that advertised "newcomer" was asking to wake up in a dark alleyway considerably less well off – or not at all. It would almost be funny in a sad sort of way, had the girls not seen the latter event occur outside one of their alley Hides.

Tarai pushed the train of thought out of her mind. There were more pressing concerns to think about, like explaining to Ghenn and Emmaline why her necklace was gone. She rubbed the back of her neck regretfully, already missing to familiar feel of metal chain. Everything had made so much sense last night when that boy — Mikael, he'd been called — had saved their lives. Now, she'd lost her only personal possession, and Ghenn's sharp eyes would notice its absence, even if he didn't say anything. She could try saying that the clasp had broken, but she hated lying. Ghenn would probably know if she was, anyway, and for him to know she had lied would be even worse. Besides, the necklace wasn't their biggest problem.

"Kayamé," she began hesitantly as they turned down another street. "Are we going to tell them?"

Kayamé paused, ducking beneath an overhang and out of plain sight. "Tell them?" Tarai heard the forced calm in Kay's voice, and wasn't fooled. The older girl was doing her best to hide her nervousness, and seem confident and in control, but Tarai knew her too well.

"What else can we do?" Though they had clothes, and even slipper-like shoes, there was no possible way for them to survive the heart of winter in alleyways. This winter was colder than any others Tarai could remember, and even some adults had commented on the frigid temperatures; they might last a handful of nights, at best, but no more.

"We have a business proposition with them. They haven't got any obligations toward us. I..." Kayamé looked away, her fists clenching. "Momma was bloodkin and turned away. Why should they help us? I want to believe that they'll help us, Ta," she continued in a fierce, hushed voice, "but I can't!" Tarai heard the unsaid words: I can't have them do the same thing to us.

"Kay, I trust you and you trust me, right?" Kayamé looked up, somewhat startled by the abrupt question. Warily, suspicious of Tarai's purpose, she nodded. "You trusted me when we first met Ghenn, and I said he was benign?"

Kayamé nodded again. "Yes," she whispered, unhappily beginning to suspect.

"I don't think we'll be holked if we tell them. If you can't trust them, you don't have to. Trust me."

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Tarai thought desperately in the back of her mind. To use trust against Kayamé was a low and dirty blow, because that was nearly all they had to give each other. I don't know; I don't know, but there's nothing else for us to do. We have to.

Kayamé was too on edge to realize that the tactically sneaky behaviour she'd been trying to teach Tarai for the past year had made an impression, and was being used against her. Tarai held her breath as Kayamé watched her for a few moments, thinking. Then, the façade of confidence Kayamé had been working to hold fell a little, and Tarai saw shadows of fear and stress in her eyes. Slowly, she took hold of Tarai's hand and squeezed it.

"Do it." Two whispered words, but Tarai heard the immense struggle it took to say them, and the implicit trust there. Squeezing back, she took the lead for the remaining streets until they reached Ghenn and Emmaline's house.

Tarai stared at the door, suddenly forbidding in the dawnlight mist. Something was going to change before they walked back out the doorway, and while there was a slightly higher likelihood that the change would be good, the idea of not going back remained daunting.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

– – – – –

Drawing on the courage of necessity, Tarai mounted the steps and knocked on the door.

Ghenn and Emmaline might have been expecting many things that morning, but they probably weren't anticipating Tarai to lead an exhausted-looking Kayamé through the door, and announce that she had something important to tell them. Immediately situated in Ghenn's overstuffed armchair in the old couple's room, Tarai sat hand-in-hand with Kayamé as they waited for her to speak.

Once Tarai began, she relied on momentum to get everything out, and the words didn't stop tumbling from her mouth until she had related everything: Yin, Yin's anger, Hides, the last few months, and then the night before… even the necklace. Finally, her breath spent, Tarai slowed to a halt, waiting for their reaction.

Emmaline moved immediately in the ensuing silence, fussing concernedly and bustling them off to a bath, clean clothes, and a good meal. Tarai lost track of Ghenn for a short time; when he reappeared at the dining table he offered a revised "business proposal" — though even Tarai could recognize he was only trying to salvage their wounded pride, knowing what store Kayamé placed on the little pride she could muster. The only major difference between the old and the new arrangement was that the girls would permanently become members of the household rather than leaving every day at sunset.

Of the possible reactions Tarai had been considering, the old couple fulfilled her most desperate hopes. No anger for their troubles, no revulsion at their helplessness, but simple care and concern over their plight.

Ghenn didn't even seemed bothered about Tarai's necklace, though her description of the circumstances in which she "lost" it were somewhat choppy; he simply smiled and expressed his happiness that it had been put to good use. To their further shock, the same evening that Tarai revealed their troubles he presented her with another gift, accompanied by a smile, a wink, and the admonishment that next time it was Kayamé's turn to give away a gift. The silver chain carried single clear teardrop, encasing a smaller teardrop tinted blue. Tarai was speechless at the kindness and generosity, and could do nothing but stare open-mouthed at the twice-undeserved piece of beauty.

The care evinced by Ghenn and Emmaline on that first day lasted as winter wore on, the old couple never tiring or complaining of their company. The girls continued to learn, work, talk, and play; some afternoons they even explored the city from the perspective of normal children, rather than waifs seeking shelter or their next meal. There was a freedom, a calm, that Tarai had never fully known before, and doubted Kayamé had either. Together, the girls reveled in their wondrous change of circumstances.

During the evenings they rested together in the bedroom, Emmaline in her rocking chair in one corner, and the girls settled in a nest of pillows and blankets in another. Ghenn sat in his overstuffed armchair, telling tales of days long ago to his spellbound audience. Tarai didn't know how he knew so many stories, or even how much of them were true, but they were beautiful and came alive through his voice.

So the days went, and the old life seemed to fade into another lifetime, or as if it had been nothing but a dream…

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Morning frost clung to the ground, a mark of the winter that still persisted. The weather had, as usual, turned sharply cold a week after Dyani's bornday, and the first major snowfall occurred two days before the winter Solstice, just in time to usher in the new year and spark many enthusiastic snow fights during the weeklong Solstice Celebration. The Solstice Celebration had been enthusiastically hailed among the townspeople, the first big holiday since the tragedy months before. Dyani had even made the Serden house's celebration-meal dessert all by herself on the final night, an accomplishment earning high praise from all family members; Erik composed an impromptu poem acclaiming their taste that caused Dyani's face to turn redder than her auburn curls.

In fact, Ryven seemed to have returned to normal, with only memories and a new section of stone markers in the graveyard serving as reminders of those passed on. People were (usually with the help of the Healing House's Mind Curaen) adjusting, and coping, and moving on with lives. Even, to varying degrees, Kain and Jaeden. They had regular visits Curae Toma, a kind man with a true gift for his field. Under his guidance, they seemed to be beginning what promised to be a long, but hopefully substantial, recovery.

Erik and Dyani had seen him several times as well over the past months; Dyani especially seemed much improved for being able to talk with someone who could understand, and Erik had to agree that he always felt better after a meeting with Toma. The young man had lost his wife and sister year ago, and was an empathetic guide to the children in how to deal with their reactions, emotions, and hurt. His anecdotes about his young daughter Tsaru could always lighten a darkened mood, and seeing the good cheer that he could possess, as a man who had faced great loss, was heartening.

Jaeden preferred to avoid the topic of his parents, never voluntarily talking about them or passing by the Merin home. It was a good sign, however, and a tribute to Toma's abilities that he no longer clammed up if they were ever mentioned in his presence. The only indication he gave that it bothered him was a temporary tenseness, subtle enough that only those who knew him well could see it. His personality had not drastically altered, as Erik had initially feared, but while he had once been the most boisterous of their quartet, he had quieted. The mischievous sparkle in his eyes remained, but he rarely went beyond his verbal wit into the realm of pranks, and on the whole his thoughts tended much more often to remain in his own mind.

Kain had focused. He had always been unofficially apprenticed under Kyr, and the day he turned 14 he became officially apprenticed under Kyr's successor. Derek was a good man, but trying to fill Kyr's shoes was often overwhelming, and Kain had already learned so much that the boy spent more time actively assisting Derek than being taught other aspects of the Guardsman's trade. Nearly all of Kain's energy was dedicated to his apprenticeship, and no one doubted that he was training to become the next Captain of the guards. Only rarely did he join the other three in play, now; his apprenticeship, further arms training, or devouring Drion's library inevitably occupied most of his time. Also, while before his emotions could be read with little difficulty, Kain's mood and thoughts hid behind a poker-face of calm geniality that would have made a master gambler proud. Erik couldn't remember the last time he had seen Kain express any kind strong emotion. The only person who seemed capable of infiltrating his barriers was Jaeden. And occasionally Kain would do something that made no sense, with no explanation, while a light in his eyes discouraged the curious from asking why.

One of Kain's strangest actions occurred on the sixth month anniversary of his parents' deaths, when he revisited his old home by himself and didn't return until the next morning: slightly haggard but still calm, and with blood still oozing from his newly-pierced right ear. One of Renée's favorite earrings, a silver half-globe with a dangling, thin, crystal octahedron, had become a permanent aspect of his appearance. Kain volunteered no justification for his actions, but Erik was fairly certain that Kain was deathly afraid of forgetting either of his parents, and the earring served as a solid memorial for his mother. Still, Erik figured there were probably better ways than making a hole in your ear by yourself, with nothing to numb the pain, but Kain seemed to have a high pain threshold. He was good at ignoring it.

– – – – –

So now the cold weather was finally coming to an end under the inexorable travel of time. Morning frost still clung stubbornly to the ground, though it was already two weeks into spring, but winter was fighting a losing battle. The sun rose early over Ryven, and its golden light spilled into the younger boys' room due to the fact that Jaeden had forgotten to draw the curtains the night before.

Erik lay in his bed, gazing a little sleepily at the carved wooden calendar on his bedside table. It had been a bornday present from Saidi last year when the older boy had still been apprenticed as a woodcarver, before his contract ended and he chose to work as a guardsman. Thirteen months of 28 days meant the calendar never changed, and Saidi had spent a lot of time adding details: a riot of vines framed the rectangle of individual day-blocks, which could be removed and replaced with special blocks for holidays and other special days, each with a different carving on its face. The month names were the same way, a differently carved name for each Moon.

With a smirk, Erik poked at today's date, the third Starsday and the 21st day of the Planting Moon — and Jaeden's bornday. The other boy had bragged a time or two about how he was going to be older than Erik again (only for two months, but two months was two months), but he'd made no mention of having a bornday celebration. Erik doubted Jaeden expected one; Kain hadn't had a celebration, but Kain's bornday had been lost in the still unsettled few weeks directly after the bandit attack. So much the better, then, because while it had taken Erik weeks of collaborative scheming with the rest of his family, today Jaeden was in for a surprise.

With that resolve, Erik finally made it out of bed with a soft 'thump' against the wooden floor. The chilly morning air prompted him to quickly prepare for the day; as he headed for the stairs Erik waved at the bottom bunk of Jaeden and Kain's bed, knowing that even his low noise had alerted Kain's reflexes and woken him up. The older boy nodded as he passed, already looking far more awake and alert than Erik was.

Downstairs, Erik could hear a muted hubbub in the kitchen, and he dared to poke his head through the doorway. Issie saw him first and waved cheerily at him with flour-dusted hands (and hair, and clothes…). Her movements alerted Liessa, who looked up and smiled at him.

"Don't worry, son, it will be ready by the time Jaeden wakes; you have at least an hour, you realize? Now shoo, I can't be having with you underfoot. Go harass your father a bit instead," she laughed.

"Okay, mama," Erik replied with a grin. True to his word, he retreated to the living room and obsessively straightened up until Kain appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Kain watched him for a moment, then spoke. "Jaeden's still asleep. D'you want to finish our game while we wait?"

"Definitely! I will beat you this time," Erik threatened cheerfully. "Come on, it was my turn next."

Erik led the way to the Library, where a chess game in-progress awaited their return. Both boys had been taught chess by their fathers, and possessed a similar level of skill. Erik's strategies favored feints and he could always give Kain a fierce competition, but no matter what he tried Kain's expert manipulations of the battlefield defeated him more often than not.

"Curses!" This game was no exception. Nearly an hour after they bent heads over the board, Erik had been checked and mated. He sighed and sat back in his chair, flicking his king on its side in acquiescence of defeat.

"It was a good game, though."

"Yeah. I almost had you a few times, there," Erik agreed with a smile. "I wonder if Jaeden's up yet?"

"Probably not. He always sleeps late on his bornday, because it's the one day he can get away with it."

Erik chuckled, but before he could reply there was a knock on the door. The two boys went together to open it, and found Suna and Toma waiting.

"Are we early?" Toma asked politely, brushing his bleach-blonde hair out of his eyes.

"No, come in," Erik invited. Because he and Kain didn't want to overwhelm Jaeden, they had limited the guest list to family, but Suna was such a close friend and Toma had spent so much time with them over the past few months that they both seemed like family anyway.

The two adults had barely settled themselves on the couch in the front room when the cry of "Suna!" came from the bottom of the stairs, and Dyani latched onto the woman in a firm side-hug.

"I'm so glad you were able to make it! Did you bring Jae a present? I bet it's a book, isn't it? I still write in the journal-book you gave me for my bornday, and none of the boys know where it is!" Dyani chattered on, her excitement for the day adding extra enthusiasm to her naturally friendly nature. Suna responded when appropriate, but she seemed to enjoy just listening to the girl speak. Erik had never fully understood when or how, but something had definitely formed a bond between the two. Leaving Kain to make pleasant, meaningless small talk with Toma, Erik retreated to his father's study and retrieved Drion from endless piles of paperwork. Eventually Pax and Saida arrived from whatever "adult-word" things they had been busy with, and Liessa made her entrance from the kitchen. The group visited together for a few minutes, waiting for Jaeden to make his appearance.

"Morning… What's going on?"

"Jaeden!" Dyani captured him in a massive hug, then brought him into the circle of people. "Surprise! Happy Bornday!"

Jaeden's expression was suitably stunned, and elicited smiles from the company as they either hugged him or gave him a friendly chuff of "manly affection." Then Dyani once more took charge, having been looking forward to this event for days. She had been hard-pressed to keep everything a secret, and Erik couldn't begrudge her the honour of playing ringmaster.

"Bornday Firstmeal is ready! Come on, Jaeden." She bounced off to the dining room, Jaeden being dragged behind her. The boy glanced over his shoulder with a bemused expression, to Erik's amusement. Dyani pointed Jaeden to Drion's usual chair at the head of the table, and the family gathered around the generous spread of Jaeden's favorite foods.

"Happy bornday, Jae," Kain began. "We," he indicated the others with a sweep of his arm, "decided that because you're ten years old today, you needed a proper celebration day. After firstmeal, we all have presents for you, and then it can be up to you, but today is yours."

"I…" For a moment, Jaeden-the-silver-tongued was at a loss for words, then he recovered his wits and gave the circle of people a brilliant smile. "Thanks."

Firstmeal was a pleasant, drawn-out affair of chatter and laughter, with many reminiscent stories about Jaeden and his life of mischievous escapades. Jaeden retorted (when he wasn't busy eating) with stories about mischiefs not perpetrated by him, which meant Erik was repeatedly embarrassed at being unmasked for several pranks long-forgiven but still remembered. But he did have to laugh when Jaeden reminded Kain about the time the two younger boys had managed to turn Kain's white-blonde hair a delicate shade of pink. It had been a beautiful sight, and Kain had gone around with a hat for days, until the berry-dye washed out.

When everyone was comfortably stuffed, Liessa worked with Issie and the other girls to clear the table, and the others disappeared to various part of the house to retrieve Jaeden's bornday gifts.

"Mine first!" Dyani declared, plopping a package wrapped in cloth on the table. Jaeden quickly removed the covering, revealing a hand-stitched pouch of deep blue cloth. "Mama helped me with the drawstring, but I made it myself. It's for keeping your money and treasures in. Do you like it?"

"It's great, Di. Thanks!" Jaeden ruffled her hair, which resulted in the ponytailed curls frizzing in uneven bumps against her scalp. She stuck out her tongue at him, quickly untying her hair ribbon and pulling her hair up into a ponytail again.

"Well, a pouch like that needs something to keep in it." Pax extended his hand, holding out a Kona. "Happy bornday, Jae."

Jaeden's eyes widened a bit. A Kona was worth twenty Aeds, and amounted to something near a small fortune among the town children. "Pax, did I ever tell you how cool you are?" Jaeden asked with a grin, reverently placing the coin in his new pouch.

"Here, Jaeden," Drion continued, handing over a box. "From Liessa and I."

Inside, a pocketknife rested on a new cloth shirt, and Jaeden thanked them happily, snapping the knife open and closed. Issie then darted out of the kitchen long enough to give Jaeden a gift from her and Dray, her older brother, which turned out to be a wooden top with a string-spinner. (Jaeden immediately careened the toy across the table, so that it flew off and crashed to the floor.)

Suna parted with her gift next: a hardcover book, engraved with Jaeden's name in the bottom-right corner, and inside the pages were blank. "I've seen you sketching here and there, usually in the dirt," she revealed with a smile. "I thought you might try preserving your work."

Jaeden gave her a shy smile in return, not having realized that anyone had ever seen his stick-in-the-dirt or charcoal-on-rock line drawings. The book joined the growing pile of his new possessions.

"Jaeden, this is from Saidi and I." Kain carefully pushed a heavy box across the table. Jaeden pulled off the lid, and with a surpised expression, pulled out a wood-inlaid chessboard with a complete set of hand-carved pieces. They were of fairly simple design, but obviously the product of time and care.

"Kain's been making that for months," Saidi interjected. "I only made the board and a piece or two, so that it would be done in time."

"I thought you might like your own set, so you don't have to try and play around mine and Erik's games," Kain offered quietly.

"And don't worry," Erik teased, "Kain and I will teach you some better strategies than your charging tactics. I bet Dyani could beat you, the way you play now."

"Hey!" Jaeden threw one of his new chess pieces at Erik, hitting him in the shoulder. "Dyani doesn't even play!"

"Exactly," Erik confirmed with a grin. "But anyway… oh." Abruptly, Erik realized that his and Toma's present was the only one left. "Here." He placed the cloth-wrapped object in front of Jaeden and waited nervously for how the other boy would react. Jaeden quickly stripped the cloth away, and then stopped dead, staring at the pocket-watch in his hands. He turned it over, and brushed a finger across the engraving on the back. With love, Renée. Kyr's watch.

"It was broken, but I remembered you once said you had been promised it, and thought I'd try and fix it. Toma's good with mechanisms and helped me put it back together." Erik paused. "Jaeden?"

"Thank you," Jaeden murmured gratefully, and Erik relaxed. Memories were important, and he was glad Jaeden was happier having the memento than saddened by the past. Jaeden re-wrapped the watch in its cloth and placed it in his pouch, then looked up with a smile. "Thanks for coming, Suna and Toma, and for the gifts, everyone." He beckoned to his friends. "Come on, you said I can decide what to do today, right? Let's go!"

The small party ended in laughter, and an admonishment from Liessa to return in time for midday. With Jaeden in the lead, the quartet left the house for a day of wandering, chatting, laughing, and playing. The evening ended with a few games of chess, and Jaeden even taught Dyani the rudiments of the game with his new set.

When the day finally ended, Erik crawled into bed with a satisfied smile. Jaeden had exuberantly enjoyed his surprise, Kain had spent a full day content to be in their company, Dyani had been able to gloat when Jaeden secretly let her win their chess match, and he… He was happy. Life was good.

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AN: It lives! Despite the fact that my computer's harddrive ate this chapter when it was over halfway done, along with a lot of my notes. :grumbles about electronics:. I have not abandoned this fic, and still have no intentions of doing so. I just write slowly --;;.

Anyway, there are three new cameos, not counting people who have showed up in previous chapters. Skittles to whoever guesses them. :) Chapter 11's cameos were, in order: Issie – Liz/Unazuki, Madam Atri – Miss Haruna, and Sean – Shinozaki. Kudos and chocolate-covered coffee beans to those who guessed right. :D

I know I spend a lot of time in Ryven and Moire, but I promise to bring back Iris and Aislyn soon (as in, the next chapter should have them). It's just so much fun to show interactions, and Iris and Aislyn are both (sadly) rather isolated in their circumstances. But that will change, promise! Eventually… But hey, at least time is passing; it's been months since the bandit attack, and people are getting older.

Reviewer responses have been officially disallowed since November of '05; instead, I will be using the review reply function/email to reply to questions or comments that need a response. If not, please know that I read and adore every review I'm graced with, and thank everyone who has taken the time to do so from the bottom of my heart (For chapter 11, specifically Fire Lady and Moonrabbit04).

If you have questions about how this world is set up, feel free to ask, either in an email (amichan at arko dot net) or a review. I love getting mail, and will always answer a question. Cheers!

See you next time,

Ocianne

1/06

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