So, I was tired of Allun not appearing yet, so I fixed that. Sadly, he is not a large part of this story. Happily, Forley is a carbon copy of his father, only 5 times as goofy and inappropriate. Because Allun's goofiness is a defense reflex; Forley's goofiness is 99.999% genuine. What's that, you say? Wasn't that Allun's father's name? Why yes, it was. ;D
Also, the idea of Rowan and Zeel dating is adorable; but it turns out that the idea of them being married, and doing stuff that married people do—such as picking up after each other, fighting over things, raising kids, and, you know, living together in general—is by turns hilarious and amazingly real.
Zeel: I'm cooking fish for dinner tonight, okay?
Rowan: That poor fish... It was alive and breathing and you killed it!
Zeel: ...Darling, do grow a spine...
I like to think they've had this argument many times, and that Star laughs at them all the time for it, but that is neither here nor there.
Anyways...
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Chapter 4: Discussions
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For a time, Star walked along beside Marlie in silence, waiting for her godmother's anger to subside before striking up a conversation. She had to admit, she felt embarrassed for losing her temper the way she had. If she had held her tongue, her wrist wouldn't be bruised, and she would be in less trouble with her parents later. But she wasn't embarrassed enough to feel any shame. It hadn't been right for Gregory to speak that way to her, and it certainly was not his place to discipline her, no matter what she said to him. He deserved the earful he had received. Anyway, nearly any other child of Rin would have been expected to stand firm and defend her family. People should be proud of her, she decided.
"I heard what you said about Star," Marlie said suddenly, breaking the silence between them.
"You did?"
"I'm sure people heard it down the street. You were yelling very loudly. I don't know what that boy said to you, but it must have been very hurtful."
"It was."
"Oh, Star, you must keep better control over your temper. Things are changing, but that doesn't mean everyone is ready for it. To most of us, a show of strong feeling is still seen as the greatest weakness. They will tear you apart, if they think they can."
"What about you? Do you think I'm weak?"
Marlie smiled ruefully at the girl's logic. "Of course not. You are strong in your own way, just like your mother and father, and there is no shame in that."
"There are many people who believe there is," Star remarked glumly, letting her eyes wander to the ground. An image of the snickering children from that morning flashed behind her eyes, and she sighed. "People treat me like I'm so different from them. It's hard, sometimes."
"Well, that is because you are different—perfectly different. For myself, I like you exactly as you are. There isn't a single thing I would change about you."
Star smiled up at her godmother, cheered by her words. "Thank you, Marlie. That means a lot to me."
Marlie smiled back, and placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Come with me to the bakery," she said. "If I'm right, you haven't eaten since this morning, and we need a hand cleaning up. And I won't let you slip out of the village without bothering to stop by and say hello today."
Star didn't try to argue, and let her godmother lead her. She felt in need of the cheer that only her godfamily could provide. When she was with them, all the rules and pretense that went with village life seemed to disappear; even some of her parent's rules could be overlooked, for just an hour or two. Cleaning up meant day-old muffins, rolls, and cakes that needed to be eaten right away. It also meant tea, and stories and songs, and very little actual cleaning. It was more like a small party. It meant being able to mock and insult the people who were mean to them, and let off steam without starting a fight. It meant being themselves for a while, without the walls they had to use around others.
When she was with them, she could call her godparents by their names. It was considered disrespectful to do so, and her mother might have popped her on the mouth for it, even now that she wasn't a little girl anymore. When they were alone, her godmother was just Marlie, and her godfather was just Allun. It was who they were, they said, and they saw no reason for her to call them otherwise. Besides, Allun frequently joked, such a title was far too dignified for him to bear, or have to live up to. He said it gave him the willies. When he was just himself, it was easier to be the friend to her that he was meant to be.
They walked the rest of the way to the bakery in companionable silence. But in that silence, Star was thinking back to the months just before she had been born. Now that it was on her mind, it was impossible not to think of her namesake, and what had happened to her. She had not been named after a dumb beast of burden—she had been named after a true hero, who was remarkably easy to overlook because she hadn't been human or able to speak in a tongue the people could understand.
But Rowan had always understood the bukshah; and he had understood Star, the largest and gentlest of them all, as surely as if they had spoken the same language. Before people had respected or feared him, she had been his only real friend. As a child, he had often seen her almost as a second mother. She must have been very proud to watch him as he grew up, found his place in the world, and found a mate of his own. And she must have been just as proud when she realized, as she must have, that he was to have a child.
Until only a few years ago, Rowan had continued to spend a considerable amount of his time in the bukshah fields, especially when he had study or meditation to do. It was still the place he felt most comfortable: in the sunshine, with the soft wind in his face, surrounded by the warm, woolly beasts he knew and loved so much. The day the tragedy had struck had been little different. He had been in the fields, as usual; and on that particular day, Zeel had decided to accompany him, even though their child was due in three months and already heavy inside her. She had decided that she needed the walk, if only to get her out of the house for a while. Anyway, she had grown to love the bukshah as much as her husband did, and missed them. It had been planned to be a fine, if not completely normal afternoon.
He had been sitting by the drinking pool, reading one of his books. She had wandered away from him to walk among the young calves, who had clustered around her to snuffle inquiringly at the swell in her belly, which they hadn't remembered from her last visit. It had been just before the first snowfall of another blessedly mild winter; the herd was growing restless, mentally preparing for their yearly trip up the mountain. All was as well as it should be.
All at once, Rowan had felt a warning twitch in his heart, as the medallion silently alerted him that something was not at all well. His dark eyes had shot up from his book, as he scanned the field for any sign of danger. And he had spotted it at once: a streak of jet black, slithering intently across the dead brown grass, directly toward the place where the calves milled around his wife.
He had jumped up in fear, and called to her to beware. She had turned to look at him in surprise, and immediately seen what he already had. Sensing their danger, the calves had scattered, running as fast as they could for shelter.
But Zeel had remained where she was, paralyzed with fear as she had locked eyes with the adder. Nothing frightened her, in general, but she had carried a crippling brain fear of snakes from her earliest childhood. In her mind, they were like the ishken of the west, she had explained. As a toddler, her people had cruelly instilled in her a terror of the loathsome monsters. As a foundling, adopted by the Travelers, snakes had seemed close enough to match the description in her young mind. They dwelt underground, preyed on smaller living creatures, and were, more often than not, inescapably deadly.
The fact that her adopted mother had, herself, been bitten and killed by such a snake, did nothing to help. Instead of turning and running, she had stood frozen as the adder continued sliding over the grass toward her. It was cold, and the snake ought to have been asleep in its den for the winter. This one, it seemed, had ventured out to hunt one last time before settling down to sleep. It had slowed its pace to stare back, no doubt curious of the woman's terror. To her alarm, it came to rest at her feet, staring up at her, daring her to make any sort of abrupt movement. The slightest errant twitch would be enough to provoke it. It had been so close, an attempt to flee would have been useless. It would strike at her heels, and certainly hit its mark.
It would kill her, and it would kill her child. She hadn't dared move, and neither had her terrified husband.
An enraged animal bellow had sounded across the field. Even the adder had turned its head slightly toward the distraction. And, according to Rowan, time had seemed to slow to a painful crawl.
Suddenly, Star was pounding furiously after them, to throw herself between her friend and the black snake. Zeel had been knocked to the ground from the force with a shriek of surprise. The great beast had reared up and brought her hooves crashing back to earth, trampling the deadly creature below her in a rage. It had only taken her a few blows to crush the snake. In short seconds, it was over.
Rowan had run to meet them, filled with triumph and relief. As he ran, though, both feelings had faded back to fear, as Star had begun to sway on her feet. By the time he had reached them, the beast had crumpled to her knees and was breathing heavily. Somewhere in those brief seconds of chaos, the adder had struck her. Perhaps she had known all along that this would happen; or, perhaps she hadn't thought of it at all, as she had rushed to the aid of the woman she knew and trusted. In any case, it had happened. The snake's venom had done its work horrifically well. It had coursed swiftly through her large body; and in minutes, she had died.
Zeel was probably only alive because Star had taken that blow for her, and given her life in the process. And the daughter she had borne had come into the world healthy and whole, in the following springtime, as predicted. The child had become the light of her parent's life, a sure sign that, no matter what anyone said, the bukshah were most definitely capable of experiencing and returning love. There was no better name they could think of for their daughter, than that of the beast who had saved her life.
Star regretted bitterly that she would never know her namesake for herself; but she liked to think that she did, in a way. Her father had been inspired to great courage because of his love for his dear friend. Much of his success was only due to his trust in her, when her sharp animal senses had seen what he had missed. When no one else had seen his worth, Star had felt nothing but faith in him. It had been a beautiful friendship, and it had ended so painfully.
And it ended for my sake, Star thought, feeling deeply humbled.
"You're awfully quiet, all of a sudden."
Star looked up to see Marlie staring at her inquisitively, while reaching for the door to the bakery. They had walked all the rest of the way in total silence, and had arrived while Star hadn't been paying attention.
"I've just been thinking," she answered quietly.
"Anything you need to talk about?"
"No, I'm fine."
Marlie clicked her tongue in what must have been concern, and ushered Star through the door. It was a habit of hers, and she did it a lot. "If you change your mind, you know that we'll listen. For now, though, let's have a little fun, shall we?"
Star agreed to herself that a little fun was exactly what she needed; and in that case, the bakery was, indeed, the only place worth being. The first thing she saw was Leah, sweeping the floor and humming to herself. Elsewhere, her father and brother could be heard singing the same song as they cleaned their workspace for the day. Leah looked up from her sweeping and smiled to see who was walking through the door.
"Welcome back, mother," she said pleasantly. "I didn't know you left."
"Just to the house of books and back," Marlie answered, taking Star's bag and leaving it by the door.
"And look who you've brought back," Leah added, setting the broom aside to give her cousin a hug. "We've been missing you, Star. If I didn't know better, I'd say you've been avoiding us."
"Well, I've been busy. I'm sorry."
"Is that Star?" someone called from the kitchen. Allun and Forley crowded into the doorway at the same time, looking surprised and excited to see her, but they ended up stuck in the small doorway in their rush.
"Why are you always in my way?"
"Why are you always in my way?"
"I was here first!"
"It's my house, so I was here first!"
"Stop shoving me!"
"Stop pushing me!"
Star rolled her eyes and laughed at them. The father and son looked, sounded, and acted so alike, it was sometimes hard to tell who was who. If only one of them were being serious instead of silly, it would have been easy to tell the difference; Star was certain that Forley didn't have a serious bone in his body. She had never seen him take anything seriously in her life. When he finally pried himself out of the doorway and dashed over to hug her, he was still laughing and joking.
"Ah, silly me. You would think after 18 years, I'd know how to walk through a door! I missed seeing you this morning."
"Yes, I noticed. It was refreshing."
A sane person might have been offended or even hurt by the comment, but Forley just smiled good naturedly. "I shall have to be quicker and cleverer tomorrow, then. No trouble for you today? No faces I need to smash?"
"As usual, no."
"So quick to answer?" Marlie asked casually. "Gregory could still use a face smashing, if you'd like us to do it."
Star wished her godmother hadn't brought it up so suddenly, because now the whole family would be upset and angry. Forley's face lost its teasing edge, and a shade of concern took its place. "What happened?" he demanded.
"Nothing," Star insisted through gritted teeth, shooting a warning look over her shoulder. "I don't want anyone's face smashed. All I want is to see all of you, and maybe eat a cake or two."
"Well, that is good," Allun agreed, "because we have quite a few that need eating. Everyone come into the kitchen, and we'll all get started on that."
"I'll be there in a moment," Leah answered, picking up her broom again. "Just let me finish with this."
"Nonsense," he father said, marching over to take the broom away from her. "There will be plenty of time for sweeping later. Come and join us. We won't start without you, you know."
Leah looked ready to argue, but her father stopped her with a look. She sighed in defeat, and followed her brother into the kitchen. Allun watched her with loving eyes, but it was clear that he was concerned about his daughter. He was used to all her quirks, and he allowed them because they were a part of who she was. He loved his child, and would never ask her to change for anyone's comfort. But if he said that those quirks didn't worry him from time to time, he would be lying.
A fear of heights, or water, or confined spaces was easy enough to hide, to keep secret from people who would look down on it as weakness. A fear of crowds was impossible to hide. Leah could barely stand to be around more than ten people at a time, before she began to panic. It had made her young life very difficult; it would make her adult life infinitely more so.
Star knew that her godfather must be thinking of this, because she knew him and the way he tended to think. But the look of worry vanished from his face, and he turned to her with a smile.
"I'm glad you came to see us today," he said, putting his arm around her and leading her into the kitchen. "There was something we wanted to talk to you about."
"Oh? What is it?"
"Well, let's get to that in a moment. First, there's tea and cake to be had, and perhaps a song or two to be sung. You look in need of cheer, my dear."
Star smiled back, grateful that he knew her as well as she knew him. The friendship they shared was special, very different from the kind of friendship she shared with her cousins, or even with her own parents. She imagined that he saw them reflected equally in her. To him, she was an absolute triumph in every way. He would never ask her to change, either. He knew what it was like to be different from other people, and need to act on it, but have to hide it. If he could provide her a refuge from that, even for a short time, he always would.
There was already a warm pot of tea on the kitchen table, and a platter of the day's leftovers waiting beside it. There was enough for a humble feast, and Star felt her stomach growl at the sight and smell of it. She also noticed that the leftovers included a few light brown cakes soaked with honey—her favorite treat, which she intended to hoard to herself. Already, her spirits were lifting.
"Tell us, Star, how's working coming along with the Book?" Leah asked as they sat around the table.
"Alright, I suppose," Star answered, shrugging as she reached for a cake.
"You'll share with us, of course, won't you?"
"You must share with us," Forley insisted, because his sister was too polite to do so. "You must be nearly done with this part by now, and I'm dying to read more of da being his usual brilliant self."
"He isn't even in this chapter," Star retorted. "As it is, I've spent more time staring dumbly at blank pages, lately, than actually writing anything. Writing some of this has been... Hard. I'm afraid I haven't written much more than you saw last time."
Her cousins looked disappointed. "Have you even finished another chapter yet?" Leah asked.
"I've been trying to finish one for the last two days. I've written exactly four pages, so far, and they haven't even reached the golden wall yet."
"That isn't like you," Leah said sympathetically, sipping her tea. "Is it really that hard for you?"
"You'll have real problems, when they end up on the mountain again," Forley added, poking his little cousin's shoulder.
"Don't tease her like that, son," Allun said quietly, suddenly grave as he remembered what had happened that night, long before the boy had been born. "It may be marvelous tale for you now, but never forget that it is all true, and all as horrible as it sounds. Believe me, because I was there. The experience was far from pleasant, and I'm grateful not to be the one responsible for writing it down."
Star gave him a smile. "It is a hard job, but I'm glad to be the one to do it. Writing has always been my great talent, after all."
"Indeed, it is," Marlie agreed, affectionately patting the girl's right hand, with which she wrote. "You've been writing stories of all kinds since you were able to hold a pen. Before you had words to write with, you wrote with pictures. You're always making up the most wonderful stories, Star."
"Some of them put the Travelers' tales to shame, I think," Allun added brightly, much more himself. "Many a story teller would trade his own tongue for an imagination as fanciful and clever as yours."
Star felt her cheeks begin to burn from the praise. "I wouldn't say that. It's only what comes naturally to me. Anyway, telling imaginary tales is all well and good, but I'd like to start writing things that are true. Things that seem imaginary, but are real. History, but legend, but still history."
Marlie nodded understandingly, but she looked slightly disappointed. "It would be a shame to see such an active imagination set aside, only to make room for dry histories."
"Dry?" Star laughed. "Why, I could never write such a thing as a dry history. Just because something is fact doesn't mean it has to be boring. Amazing and beautiful things truly happen every day. And there are many amazing, beautiful, impossible things that have happened in our world, which people must understand really happened. I'm going to find them all, and write them down, so that all people will know which of our legends are actually facts."
Leah laughed lightly at the bold declaration. "Sounds like you have a lot of history left to catch up on."
"I don't mind. The Book is a good place to start. And, if you are really interested, you can look over those four pitiful pages. The Book is in my bag, by the door, so feel free to go get it. But I shall know if even one of my cookies is missing, so don't even think of touching them."
The brother and sister left the table together, intent on retrieving the Book from her things. Neither of them agreed not to touch her cookies, though, and she wondered briefly about that.
How many were left, anyway? She thought suddenly. Six? Seven? I've eaten four already, but... How many were there to begin with? I can't remember now...
She dismissed the thought, and turned back to her godparents. "You said there was something you wanted to discuss with me. What was it?"
"Slow down, Starfire, I said we would come to that later, didn't I?" Allun answered with an exasperated smile.
"Now is later than it was before, and I'm burning with curiosity. Tell me!"
Marlie chucked over her tea. "The child has you there, my dear," she commented. "You had may as well satisfy her curiosity. You'll have no peace until you do."
Allun sighed and shook his head. "So it seems. I might have known; trying to argue with either of her stubborn parents has always been impossible. Oh, why did I allow them to have children? That was foolish of me."
The three of them shared a laugh over his pretended despair, but Star had to wonder why he was trying so hard to avoid this discussion, when he had seemed so excited about it before.
"Allun, please, just tell me what's going on with you. Have I done something wrong?"
"Far from it, lovely. You see, the two of us have been talking about this for a while, now; but we decided a few days ago that if there is a choice to be made, it should be your own. It would mean much to you, we think."
Star sat forward in her chair. "Okay, what is it?"
"Well, when we go to the coast this fall, we want you to come with us."
Star felt her heart pound with excitement, and her smile broadened into a grin. "Really? You want to take me to Maris with you?"
"It's well in advance, we know. But it's best to have the decision made now, so we can be better prepared later."
"We had hoped you would join us this past year; but when we asked your parents about it, they insisted you stay here," Marlie explained slowly. "Granted, you were very busy in the fall, and so were they. We chose not to bring it up with you then, because you would have only been disappointed and angry, and you had important work to do with your father. This year, we hope it will be different."
"Which is why we've put the choice to you, first. We know what the trip would mean to you, but we beg you not to make your decision lightly. It's a long trip, and a long stay, and a long trip home again. You've never been very far from this place, either. It's an exciting decision to make, we know very well; but by all means, make it wisely."
Star sat back, trying to take it in. She felt another surge of mixed feelings, as she faced the happy news. She was thrilled at the opportunity for her first real adventure. She was also a little angry that she might have gone on the last trading trip, and no one had told her about it until just now. But mostly, she was just excited, too excited for the anger to even take root.
She had been wanting to travel to Maris for several years, for a list of perfectly reasonable reasons, but had always been gently told that she was too young to go. That had always seemed a poor excuse, because all three of her cousins had been going with their own parents for years. For them, it was part of learning their trades. Star's family had little to trade on the coast, and so they never went on the trips. Her parents hadn't been to the coast since she had been very little, and she had never been there at all.
All the same, there were things in Maris that she was dying to see. The glittering waves and the sandy shore were tempting enough. The Maris also kept an impressive library, the hub of their world's history, which her cousins had told her many tales of. She understood that the library was two stories tall, and that the town's finest scholars were always working on new books to add to the collection. She longed to see it for herself, to watch the scholars at their work, perhaps even to join them briefly and learn all she could from them. Her heart yearned to pour through that vast collection of knowledge, to take from and give back to it, and remember every precious ounce of understanding she could get from it.
More pressingly, she wanted to meet her father's friends there. His adventure in Maris was as famous as any other, and it was the next one she would have to write. If she was unable to know his friends, or at least interview them, how was she supposed to be truthful in her writing? She knew the story, as she knew them all; but she didn't know these strange, silent people the way she knew her family. It was a piece of the puzzle she knew she couldn't do without. The thought of having to do without it anyway had been bothering her, as the writing of the second adventure began inching closer to its end.
No matter what her godparents said about choosing carefully, she knew that passing up this opportunity would be foolish. And now she understood why her godparents had wanted to ask her, but had been so hesitant. Of course they knew that she would answer at once, without thinking. Also, it was clear that her parents had no idea that this was happening. Her own mind was made up. Her mother and father would surely try to talk her out of it, but there was no way she was changing her mind.
"I'm going," she said solidly, unable to stop grinning. "Oh, I am going, and no one can stop me!"
"Going where?" came Forley's voice from the door. He and Leah had returned, the Book safe in her responsible arms, and were staring inquiringly at her.
"No one is going anywhere yet," their mother informed them. "As it is, Star still needs to speak to her parents about it."
Star gave her an imploring look. "Do I have to?"
"Well, we're certainly not going to let you run off without telling anyone, if that's what you were thinking. You shall have to convince them, somehow. Otherwise, we can't take you. They are your mother and your father, after all, and we will respect the decision they make."
"Then convince them is exactly what I will do," she announced. "I will be going to Maris, and there is no Titan alive who can stop me."
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"No. Absolutely not."
"Aw, papa, please!"
"It's out of the question. You will stay right here, where you will be safe. And the next time I see Allun, I'm going to strangle him for putting these ideas in your head. You're not going, Star, and that is final."
Zeel stood in neutral silence as her daughter went on whining, wondering what her husband thought to accomplish by arguing. It would only make the situation worse, she was sure. She also wasn't sure what Star thought to accomplish with her whining, because that rarely convinced her father to do anything for her. Clearly, the girl was excited and desperate.
For herself, she couldn't see what the problem was. If Star wanted so badly to go to Maris, and someone was willing to take her and keep her out of trouble while she was there, there ought to have been no problem at all. But she knew her husband well, and knew that idea of their only child being so far away for so long worried him deeply. Rowan had always been one to worry needlessly, especially over the people he loved. It was his way of caring for them. Considering that he had honest magical power now, she felt more than ever that his worrying was silly.
"Rowan, my love, may I speak with you for a moment?" she interrupted, gesturing toward the door.
"I can't leave this now," he answered, not looking up from the simmering pot he was stirring. "There are patients expecting this potion tomorrow; and if it boils over, I won't have the time to start over again."
"Now."
At last he looked up, as if he intended to say no again, but the unimpressed look she pinned him with instantly changed his mind.
"Yes, dear," he sighed. "Star, look after this for me. I'll be back in a moment."
Star groaned in annoyance, but she obediently stepped forward to take her father's place at the stove. She began muttering angrily under her breath, stirring the potion with what seemed a rebellious vengeance, as her parents left the room together. They went into the small study and closed the door behind them.
"I can't see why you're so against this," Zeel commented, her tone matter-of-fact as always. "If she's been offered this opportunity, she ought to be able to take it. The trip could be good for her."
"Or she could walk headlong into trouble, and we won't be there to stop it. She's only a child, after all."
"She's 13 years old, Rowan. A child she may be, but she's hardly a baby. She's hardly a little girl, anymore. Moreover, she can take care of herself; we've both seen that. And her own reasons for wanting to go are far from self-serving. She could accomplish a great deal on this trip."
"She thinks she will find some grand adventure, if she leaves. What she will find is trouble. She's not ready for this; she is far too young, and not wise enough yet."
"You were barely older than she is now, the first time you went to Maris."
"And look what happened!"
"She's never even been away from Rin, not once in her life."
"My point, exactly."
"And how do you expect her to learn or grow, if she remains cooped up here for the rest of her life? Besides, think of what it would mean to our friends. They haven't seen her in years, since just after she was born. It would mean the world to them, to really meet her for the first time."
"I know, but... What if something goes wrong? What if something terrible happens, and we aren't there to stop it?"
"She will be fine. We've both taught her well, and she will handle whatever comes into her way. Anyway, she will be with Allun and Marlie. They will take care of her."
"That's half the reason I'm worried.
"Why can't you just trust her? Star may be a child, but when has she ever gone deliberately seeking trouble? A little excitement, perhaps; but trouble, or danger? She is wiser than you give her credit for."
"I do trust her. And I never said that she was foolish. All I said was that she isn't ready for this."
"Well, I think she is. I think she should go, if she wants to."
"I am her father, and I say no, she can't go."
"I am her mother, and I say yes, she can."
"Zeel..."
"Rowan..."
They both crossed their arms and stared each other down, locked in another battle of wills. It seemed to Zeel that this happened a lot lately, and it annoyed her. They had had their differences in the past, but she had thought that those days were mostly over. Now that their daughter was growing up, they had quickly found that they had their own ideas of how to care for her. When Star had been a young child, agreeing on what was best for her had been easy. Now that she was a restless teenager and able to act on her own, coming to agreements was often difficult.
The fact that her husband was a Titan, and taller now than she was, didn't make reasoning with him any easier. Not that reasoning with him had ever been particularly easy to begin with. Arguing with him had always been like trying to argue with a wall. He may have been diminutive, but he was tougher and more stubborn than he had ever realized. Now that he did realize it, and had the magic of an entire element at his command, he took full advantage of it. She glared up into his dark eyes, unintimidated by his power, and wondered vaguely at a time when he had only stood as high as her shoulder.
That time seemed impossibly long ago.
"Rowan, I'm going to be very blunt with you, now," she said crisply. "There are a great many things I have allowed you to do with our daughter which I didn't care for in the slightest. Some of them, I'm still not sure if I should have allowed so easily. But you are my husband, my dearest friend, and the father of my only child, and so I have trusted you. So I ask you, will you not trust me in the same way?"
He sighed slowly, and his face softened into an understanding smile. "Of course I trust you. I'm just... Afraid for her. I can't help it."
"Any father would feel the same," she agreed. "But Star is growing up, and she needs to find her place in the world for herself, as we have. And if we keep her locked away from the world, she will never be able to do that. She would be safe and protected, surely; but we both know that she would be perfectly miserable."
"Yes, I know..."
He was so conflicted, torn between the knowledge that this day had been bound to come eventually, and his strong need to protect his only child. Zeel understood why he worried the way he did, and she knew there was nothing she could really say to make him less anxious; but she wished dearly that he would just relax, and have a little more faith in their daughter. But, if she was honest with herself, the thought of Star being away for a month or more worried her slightly, too. She had never been parted from her child before. It would be a large step into the unknown for all of them. Worry was the least of what she felt over the matter, but it was still there.
At a loss for words of particular comfort, she stepped forward and gave her husband a hug. Never once had that failed to cheer him, when he was upset.
"Don't think for even a second that I don't appreciate how hard this is for you," she said quietly. "This is hard for me as well, you know."
"I suppose I will have to let her go, sometime. I don't like to think of it, but that day will surely come."
"We will reach that day measure by measure, as the family we are. You know, reading what Star has written lately has gotten me to thinking. It seems like an impossible and horrible dream. We are so close now, and so changed. It's hard to believe there was ever a time when I didn't trust you."
"It's hard to remember a time when I didn't have your friendship to count on," he agreed. "A time when I didn't think of you as my family."
Zeel smiled ruefully, as terrible memories came to her mind. They had entered the Pit of Unrin despising each other, furiously annoyed to be trapped in each other's company. She had thought then that he would be easy to control, even to ignore, because she had been taller and stronger, and Zebak, besides. The moment they had realized that they were both terrified, separated from everything they had ever known or loved, and very much alike on the inside, had changed everything in an instant. In a split second, they had become allies. In less than an hour, they had become friends.
And in less than five years, they had fallen in love and become husband and wife. What had begun as bitter hatred had quickly changed into the deepest, closest kind of friendship imaginable. There were still moments when they were angry with one another, because they were two very different people, and their ideas often conflicted. But that was all a part of friendship, after all.
Still grasping his shoulders, she stood back slightly and looked him in the eye.
"I love you, and I would never knowingly do anything to hurt you. Please trust me when I say that everything will be fine, in the end."
He sighed deeply, and let his forehead rest against hers. "Very well, then. I will trust you on this. It still worries me; but if she really wants to go, she may."
"She will be thrilled to hear it," she answered, giving him a soft, reassuring kiss. "You're a good father. There are few things you could do to make me say otherwise."
He regarded her with a grateful smile, perhaps also remembering the moment when their friendship had begun. "I love you, too."
"I know. You tell me so a hundred times a day."
"Not enough," he answered, opening the door and letting her step first out of the study. He followed her out, and walked with a new purpose back to the kitchen.
Star was still brooding over the stove, still mumbling to herself with a scowl on her face, though her stirring had slowed to a more careful pace. When Rowan leaned against the counter beside her, she staunchly refused to look up at him.
"Hello, Star."
"Hello, father," she petulantly muttered back.
"I'm going to make you a deal," he said evenly. "It is springtime now, and the trip is early in the fall. That leaves you easily six months to finish the Book. Complete your first draft by then, and you may go."
She looked up suddenly in surprise, nearly splashing some of the potion out of the pot in her haste.
"You really mean it?"
"Yes, I do. It is a challenge I believe you can rise to. Do you accept?"
Star squealed with delight, abandoning her stirring to embrace her father. "Yes, I do! I absolutely accept!"
He laughed and returned the embrace. "I thought you might. It is a generous deadline, so I'm counting you, understand?"
"I understand completely. In fact, I suddenly feel inspired to finish a few passages."
"Go to your work, then. I will take over, here. Thank you for looking after this for me."
"You're welcome," she answered brightly, kissing his cheek before darting out of the kitchen. As she passed her mother in the doorway, she gave her a brilliant smile.
"Mum—"
"Call it a late birthday present," Zeel said lightly, stroking her daughter's hair. With a knowing wink, she added, "We women have to have our ways, you know. Now go about your work, as your father said. You've a lot of work to do."
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Afterthoughts...
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From August, 2014…
Three weeks and nine pages later, I am perhaps overly proud of how this chapter turned out. It is positively perfect to me, and I love it, and it is my favorite thing I have written recently. 8D
Again, the thought of Rowan and Zeel as a married couple tickles me to the bone. There are so many opportunities for hilarity, tenseness, and fluffiness, all at the same time. It's a complex relationship, but it can also be so simple. And no matter what is going on, it's always fun to write. They really are a fanatic's dream ship.
On a funny side note, there came an unexpected speed bump during the scene in the bakery, when I suddenly had no idea what to write. All I knew was that the ensuing paragraph had something to do with cakes—those honey cakes in particular, for some odd reason—and that it would somehow transition into a conversation, but I had no idea what the words were yet. It took me two weeks of staring listlessly at the open word document before figuring out what they were. And then, shockingly, the rest fell together in a matter of hours. BUT, that is writing, for you. :/
Also, as my 7 year old brother has been reviewing in advance for me, I asked him out of pure curiosity how he felt about Star dying. He answered very plainly that he was unmoved by it, that Star wasn't a particularly major character in the first place, and that he wasn't sure what kind of horrible monster he was, but it just didn't make him feel sad in any way. Kids just say the darndest things, am I right? XD