#7 Change of Scenery
Kirra was standing at the window peering out into another stormy day, when Gawain came out of his room the next morning. He watched her for a moment as she watched the rain. She looked far away in thought. She wore a hat of some sort on her head with her hair in a thick braid hanging out of a hole in the back. It hung wet and had darkened the back of the shirt she wore and her arms were wrapped tightly around her chest as though she was trying to warm herself.
"I rode home this morning and got the car," Her voice was low and distant.
Car?
"I figured it would be better then riding through all this wet," She explained without turning. "We've had unusual storms this spring." When she did turn to face Gawain, her eyes were still far away and it took a moment for them to focus on the knight. There were dark circles under them as well, "Breakfast is ready too," She said finally, moving in the direction of the kitchen.
It turned out that she had made oaten porridge for the morning meal. She spooned it into two bowls then set them on the table and bustled about as Gawain sat. She retrieved a small clear bag full of something the color and texture of wet sand and something in a small clear bottle.
Gawain examined the clear bag as Kirra poured … milk … and sat down. She took the bag from him and dumped a liberal amount on her oats along with a bit of what ever was in the bottle; it had a pleasant, if unfamiliar scent, and a chunk of butter. She vigorously stirred the whole concoction with her spoon and tentatively tasted it. Deciding that it was fine, Kirra took a big bite and looked at Gawain with her head cocked when he did not move. She chewed then swallowed.
"This," she said, tapping the clear bag with the back of her spoon, "is brown sugar and this," she did the same to the small bottle, "is cinnamon. It's the only way to eat oatmeal. Here," she said, shoving her bowl forward, when the knight had still made no attempt to move, "Try it, if you don't like it, there is definitely something wrong with you."
Remembering the tea, Gawain took a small bite. Kirra rolled her eyes, "Taste anything? I am not sure I even saw anything on your spoon." Lack of sleep and a ride through the rain had left her feeling cranky.
Exasperated Gawain took a larger bite and was surprised at how good it was, "This is, what again?" He asked as he followed Kirra's lead with the items on the table.
"Sugar," She answered shortly. "You probably only have honey, huh?" Then to herself, "I wonder when sugar was first widely distributed."
He ignored her comment, "Yes, we have honey, but I have never heard of sugar, or this." He replied sprinkling some of the contents of the bottle on his oatmeal.
"What do you normally have for breakfast?" Kirra said around another bite. She was nearly finished with her meal.
"Bread, cheese, meat, fruit, ale," Gawain said not looking up as he stirred the mixture he had made.
"Ale? In the morning?" She asked incredulously. Then her eyes narrowed suspiciously, "Are you a lush?"
He looked up, perplexed, "I do not know that word. You do not drink, I understand."
"No, too young," Kirra said brightly. Now that she had a little sugar in her, her mood was picking up. "Sorry, all you'll get with me is the normal fare, well," -- she grinned mischievously -- "normal for me."
Gawain shrugged unconcernedly, "As long as I get something to fill my belly, it does not matter."
Kirra snorted, "From the way you curled you lip at my breakfast, right." She finished and rose to wash out her bowl and place a couple of slices of bread in a small white box and turned to check the water in a small pot and poured it into a waiting mug. She turned and leaned back against the counter, "I am making some tea, want any?"
Gawain gave his head a desperate little shake.
Kirra laughed, "Okay, how about coffee?"
At his blank expression, Kirra fished out another mug and found Niara's hidden stash. The old woman had loved coffee. She filled the small coffeepot and spooned in the grounds, "I'm not a coffee drinker, but Niara loves it, so maybe you'll like it, too."
It started dripping immediately and soon the kitchen was filled with an intriguing aroma. The bread popped out of the white box, causing Gawain to startle a bit and Kirra to laugh again. She pulled out the toasted bread and slathered on thick layer of butter and jam on one piece. The other she dropped in front of Gawain and sat down again with her bread and mug of tea, to which she added a healthy dose of honey.
"Okay, today I thought we would leave Niara's and go to my parent's house. Just don't answer the door and we will be fine. If my uncle visits unexpectedly, which he is likely to do -- hide." She explained as she sipped her tea. "I am not about to try and explain you to him."
Gawain, who had just found the joy of strawberry jam, was only half listening. He was brought back to reality by Kirra's silence and the amused expression in her grey eyes.
"I really hope you're not allergic to anything. That's all I need, you going into anaphylactic shock."
"Ana-falactic shock?" he echoed the unfamiliar word.
Kirra laughed again, "Yeah, you feel like you can't breathe, let me know."
"I will keep that in mind as I am smothering," Gawain said dryly, causing Kirra to laugh again. It was well worth the sarcasm to hear that husky little laugh. "So why would you not want to explain me to your uncle?"
Kirra got up at the sputtering of the coffee pot so Gawain would not see the grimace on her face at the mention of her domineering uncle, James. "He wants to force me to stay here forever and husband the land, yet he is unwilling to force any of his own children into it. Needless to say, we do not get a along." She poured a cup of the hot black drink and sat it in front of the knight and took her seat again. "He thinks my parents spoil me and let me walk all over them and he never fails to let me know it. I think he is a total ass and I am sure my less then sweet attitude never lets him forget it."
"You do not want to stay home?" Gawain asked, sipping the hot liquid and finding he liked it and a moment later the resulting caffeine buzz.
"Not that that matters now, but it isn't that I don't want to, it's the fact that he wants to force me, without caring one iota for what I want." In her sincerity, Kirra leaned across the table, "See, it's all about leaving the decision up to me."
She couldn't sit still and rose to take Gawain's dishes and wash them along with the remainder of her dirty ones. Her gait and efficient movements were strangely familiar and Gawain found himself watching her curiously, even her habit of being unable to relax for long was reminiscent of her brother.
"Just make yourself scarce when he comes to visit or he will have my parents home in the blink of an eye and they have been planning this vacation for years. They need it," She turned wiping her hands dry on a small towel. "When you are finished we will leave. I'll go get your things, let me know when you are ready." With that Kirra turned and left the kitchen.
Gawain sat longer then was probably necessary trying to figure the whole situation out. Try as he might the answers would not come; it was all just too outlandish, his coming to a time and land far from his own and Tristan's sister finding him. Kirra's being born only a few years after he, yet having grown up here, and then there was the question of a key.
What key?
How could such a simple object restore that which had been turned upside-down? He rubbed his head in border-line despair and looked up to see Kirra standing in the doorway staring at him; her whole demeanor, quiet and unreadable, her eyes dark and piercing, peering into his very being. It was a bit unsettling.
"Let's get out of here. It's too depressing and I can't stand it," She said and Gawain rose and emptied his cup into the sink and let her lead the way out.
At the front door Kirra glanced over at him, "Ready for a run?"
The rain was still pouring in sheets, not violently, just enough to fully drench everything in a short amount of time. Gawain wrinkled his nose as Kirra pulled open the door. It was dry on the porch, but just beyond it was a shifting world of grey and an odd hulking thing sitting motionless, rain pouring off its shiny, red exterior. He looked over at Kirra with wide eyes.
She sighed, "He's my baby. I'll get the door for you." She pointed a little black amulet at the red thing, which as far as Gawain was concerned was neither a baby or alive, the thing gave a strange noise and lights flickered at its front.
"What is that?"
"It's my car," Kirra answered matter of fact. "Ready?" and she leapt off the porch and sprinted out into the driving rain without waiting for Gawain's answer and pulled a door open before darting to the other side and out of view. Another moment later her head appeared inside the car, "Come on, let's go!" Gawain heard her shout over the din. Taking a deep breath and saying a silent prayer to the gods he followed suit and joined her.
"Pull the door shut or you'll fall out," She ordered. "And fasten your seatbelt, like this." She demonstrated and grinned at Gawain's reticence. Her grin grew when she put a small silver key in a wheel sitting in front of her. Loud music blared for a moment before she turned it down and turned to face Gawain, eyes sparkling with delight, "You're kind of a thrill seeker, aren't you? I mean, I would assume that in your line of work it's a requirement, but the fastest you've ever gone is as fast as a horse gallops right?"
"Yes," Gawain said hesitantly. He definitely did not like or trust the evil smile which painted Kirra's face at the moment. It was too much reminiscent of the expressions Gareth and Galahad had worn as children when they had done something that someone, usually him, was unlikely to appreciate.
"Well, you might hold on, this goes a wee bit faster." She pulled a little black stick towards her and suddenly the car rocketed forward. Gawain slammed back in his seat; Kirra glanced over at his loss of color and gasp of surprise. "If you feel sick, please close your eyes." She implored, adding, "and, it would be a heck of a lot funnier if I was going faster then just twenty-five miles an hour. I promise you won't die, you can let go of the door handle before you break it off."
Gawain looked down to notice that his knuckles were white with the force of his grip as he held onto the side of the door.
Once he had gotten used to the speed and feel of the movement of the car, Gawain found himself enjoying it immensely and he was slightly disappointed when Kirra pulled it into a room attached to the largest home Gawain had seen.
"You live here?" He asked incredulously. The room in which the car sat was as big as a stable that could comfortably house at least six horses and their tack.
"Well, not in the garage, but yeah, this is home. Come on in and I'll show you your room," Kirra replied reaching into the seat behind her for a small bag. Before exiting the car, she pushed a button and the door to the garage came down from the ceiling. The gray dog from the other day was there to greet them, a wiggly puppy greeting for Kirra and a more reserved brush of the tail for Gawain.
"This is Finn," Kirra said, slapping the dog -- which was even bigger close up, on the side as it leaned into her. "His size is bigger then his bite," She led the way inside and disappeared.
Inside the actually home, Gawain stood and stared for several long moments. It was full of open rooms that looked in on each other and were comfortably dressed with furniture in earthy tones and dark woods. It was warm and dry and very solid.
"Are you coming?" Kirra's voice floated from somewhere.
Taking one last look around to orient himself with this part of the house, Gawain called, "Yes, but where …"
Kirra's head popped out from around a corner, "Up here."
It appeared there were more floors then just the one Gawain was standing in. He followed her up stopping once to examine several … paintings that hung on the wall leading up the staircase.
There was one of a man and a woman, him in dark clothes and her in a long white gown, gazing with rapture into each other's eyes. Another was of a young Kirra; perhaps around age six, her face was still chubby with childhood. She sat on a fence and was waving at the artist. The last was also of Kirra, but as she looked now. It was the only one in somber shades of grey and white, her head turned as if she were watching something very far away that made her quiet and pensive. It was the same expression she had been wearing when Gawain first saw her that morning staring out of the window at a wet world.
"Those are photos," She said coming to stand on the stair above Gawain – she was still shorter then he. Finn watched awhile from the lower floor before deciding that a nap would be far more favorable then the actions of the two humans and left to lounge in his favorite spot. "These are my parents on the day they were married, me a couple of years after coming here, and this," she pointed to the third, "my mom snapped when I wasn't paying attention. She says it captures the true essence of who I am."
"And you do not believe your mother?" Gawain asked at the indecision he heard in Kirra's voice.
She shook her head and pursed her lips, "I hardly think I'm that serious. You know mothers; they see things in us we don't see in ourselves. Come on, your room is up here." She turned and continued up and disappeared into a room to the right at the top of the stairs. Gawain followed her, his mind still on the third picture.
The room he was to be staying in was far bigger then his own back at the Wall and far more comfortable and welcoming. The wood that made the matching furniture was a dark brown which accented the dark gold of the walls. The coverlet on the wide bed was boldly striped with the same gold and several shades of blue. A large metal image of the sun hung opposite the bed, smiling cheerfully to wake whoever slept there.
"This is the Day Room," Kirra supplied. "Silly, I know. But when mom and I redecorated, we thought it would be fun if each room had a theme and a name." She grinned sheepishly.
"It is a very nice room. You and your mother did well," Gawain said and Kirra's smile widened a little and her cheeks reddened in pleasure as she put the little bag she had carried in on the bed.
"Mine is across the hall, it's the Night Room. And my parent's is at the end of the hall. Mom calls it the Garden Suite. You should have seen the look on my dad's face when he first saw it. It positively oozes roses and femininity. My mom's a hopeless romantic, my dad … not so much."
She moved and opened a door to the east of the bed, "This is your bathroom. And that," -- she pointed to another door on the western wall -- "opens to your closet, though you don't have anything to put in it." She grinned again as she had done in the car, "We'll have to get you a few things. You are quite a bit bigger then my dad, so his clothes won't fit." But when she crossed the room and opened the closet her jaw dropped, "What's this?" Gawain moved to look over her head.
In what should have been an empty space, there now hung shirts and pants and on the floor were several different pairs of shoes. All of which, Kirra had no doubt, would be Gawain's size. She slid around Gawain and pulled open one of the dresser drawers and started laughing.
"Niara knows me far too well. Looks like I won't get to have any fun taking you to town." She closed the drawer and turned to Gawain who was still examining the contents of the closet, "You have plenty of socks and underwear in here. And I am sure that anything you might need will be in the bathroom." She grew quiet and suddenly darted from the room, Gawain followed.
Kirra threw open the door to her room then yanked open the door to her closet and peered inside, "Drat." She muttered and closed the door. She shrugged helplessly when she saw Gawain's quizzical expression, "Hey, you got new stuff."
He chuckled, "I take it Niara left you without anything but me for your efforts."
Kirra threw herself into a chair, "Looks that way." Then she noticed just where Gawain was and stood up warily, "You're not supposed to be in here, by the way. House rules: no boys in my room. Sorry."
"Boy?" Gawain questioned with a smirk and planted his feet.
Kirra shoved at him ineffectively, "Boy, man, whatever. You understand, now move it. Ugh." She grunted with effort and still the knight did not budge. "Come on."
Gawain slipped to one side and Kirra nearly fell to the floor, "But you have such a nice room. I think I like it even more then the one you put me in."
He was so enjoying Kirra's near frantic movements that he didn't catch the sudden darkening of her eyes. All of the sudden Kirra lashed out and hit him in the shoulder. Hard. He gasped with sudden pain; she had hit him right where the arrow had been. And while he was still stunned at her outburst, Kirra took the opportunity to push him out of the room and firmly shut the door behind her.
"I told you to get out," She said with her arms folded over her chest. "I still don't know you and though Niara might trust you, I don't -- not in my room."
"I think you burst the stitches," Gawain said in disbelief. He could see his shirt darkening in a spreading stain.
Kirra turned white and her hand went to her mouth, "I'm sorry." She stuttered as she took a step toward him and Gawain took a step back in retreat. "No, really. Let me see. I can fix --"
He scowled at her, angry, but not really. She had told him to get out and it was her room. "I think you have done enough," He said quietly, still a bit shocked. "I'll take care of it." He turned to find his bathroom leaving Kirra standing in the hall.
Her eyes narrowed and her pale cheeks flamed red, this time with anger and embarrassment, "Fine, be a stubborn ass." She snapped and turned to enter her room once again, this time slamming the door with a deafening crack.
Gawain chuckled at her outburst after he had taken his bloody shirt off and examined the damage Kirra had done. It was minor; two stitches had torn through the skin rather then bursting as he had thought, but it stung and was throbbing, the pulsing could be seen flashing white against his mottled red skin. It would be even more bruised, but with a little water and a few of those sticky bandages would heal along with the rest. But he certainly knew now the extent of her temper.
Kirra may be smaller then the Sarmatian women Gawain had grown up knowing, but that didn't stop her acting as big as they. It had been a rather dirty shot, but when one was cornered, as Kirra had been, and unsure of a situation, it was better to fight dirty then live the consequences of doing nothing. Shaking his head in exasperation, he decided her would apologize later after she had some time to relax surrounded by her own things.
Turned out Kirra didn't need as long to cool off as Gawain would have thought and soon there was a quiet knock at his open door. He was still the bathroom having become rather distracted by looking through the drawers for more bandages and having found them full of everything he might need and several things he wouldn't and had no idea as to just what they were used for. He stuck his head around the corner to find Kirra waiting just outside his open door.
"Do you know what all this is?" He asked before moving back to the drawers.
She took that as an invitation and entered the room carrying a small white box. "Yeah, it's -- you're still bleeding." Her voice grew a little louder at the pronouncement and she pushed Gawain back to sit on the toilet ignoring the fact that he was only half dressed.
He looked down to find that a thin trickle of blood had made its way down his chest but was drying. "Rather forgot about that. I was looking for another of those bandages and became distracted. You live in an amazing world Kirra. So much comfort."
Kirra was quiet for a moment as she remembered what it had been like when she had first come here, how new and exciting everything had been, and decided he was right. She did live an incredibly sheltered and comfortable life. "I guess you're right. I don't think about it anymore." She wet the bloody towel he had been using earlier and began to gently wipe the blood away. "Look," she said, not meeting Gawain's eyes, "I am sorry about hitting you. It just sort of happened. I didn't really mean it."
She opened the little white box as Gawain eyed her speculatively, "No, I am pretty sure you did."
Kirra's eyes flicked up then back down to the bottle she was struggling to open. Gawain took it from her easily opened it and handed it back. She poured a little of the liquid it held on a white puffball, "It's just you're a lot bigger and stronger then any one else I have ever met and for a moment it was a little much to have you standing so close in my room." Her cheeks and the tips of her ears were pink again and Gawain stifled a chuckle. "This may sting a little," she said, gently swabbing the newly opened cut with the puffball. Gawain gasped again, but not so much because of the sting.
The girl had leaned in close and blown on it to reduce the sharp bite of the liquid and it was more the combination of the cool liquid and her warm breath on his chest that did it. Gods, she smelled good.
Kirra looked up sharply, concern lightening her eyes considerably and thankfully completely oblivious to the true cause of the sudden intake of breath, "I'm sorry."
Gawain shook his head, hoping that nothing showed in his eyes, and in a reasonably even voice said, "It's not as bad as that first swill you poured on it."
Kirra grinned, "That does hurt pretty bad, doesn't it?" She dug through the box and tore open a large square bandage like the others. "There," she said pressing the bandage firmly into place. "That should do it. Put your shirt on, you have goose bumps." And she turned, oblivious, to tidy up as Gawain obeyed her order.
Once the room was as clean as it had been before she had started, Kirra turned, "It's early yet and you are starting to get pale, why don't you grab a quick nap and I'll wake you later for lunch."
Gawain stood stretching a bit to test his soreness. He was still a bit stiff and sleep did sound rather inviting, "That sounds perfect."
He followed Kirra from the bathroom and watched as she closed the blinds and pulled down the sheets on the bed. She glanced once more around the room before leaving.
"There, have a good rest and I'll be downstairs." She shut the door quietly, leaving Gawain to slip under the cool sheets and marvel a moment at their softness before giving himself up to the dark.