[Se] Spoken
There was another mouse on her pillow, neatly wrapped in strong, heavy strands of silk. The little cocoon twitched when she prodded at it with a finger--still alive. Se'ala smiled as she sat down on the hammock, knotted ropes creaking. The little spiderling wasn't quite so little any more. She had molted twice already and was now the size of a housecat, with similar habits, and any complaints the grunts might have had about sharing their living quarters with the creature had been quashed by her skill in keeping the vermin down.
There was a skittering on the floor underneath the hammock, and Se'ala bent down, reaching to pick up the spider as she scurried out to greet her. Two large eyes and six smaller ones stared up at her, shining in the light from the torches on the wall, and she smiled wider, stroking the spider's bristly back. "Long day today, Shen." The spider seemed to nod, bending her front legs a bit and then straightening them again so that she bobbed up and down.
The fight at the bar had been almost a relief after the frustration of this afternoon's training. It had felt good to finally let out some of the pent-up stress and anger from the constant lectures and corrections, to stop feeling like a failure and just do rather than think and worry. Sore though she was, angered though she was by the ass who'd thrown up on her and then grabbed her, she felt lighter now, unburdened. She might not be permitted to drop-kick that sneering little goblin into the lake, but at least she'd gotten to hit someone. It felt good.
As she sat and thought, though, she discovered that there was still a twitchy bit of worry worming its way through her mind. She shifted restlessly, and Shen'ju lifted her legs and daintily moved aside, giving the troll a disapproving look before vanishing into the shadows beneath the hammock. She sighed again. Something told her she wouldn't be getting any sleep until she worked this out.
"Going for a walk," she told the spider, and set the mouse down on the floor for her. "Be safe."
--
Father had been gone long enough that the littlest ones did not even remember him, but he returned almost immediately when word reached him of Kala's condition. There were talks between the two families, arrangements to be made, and once again his stern presence ruled over the family. It was Father who the Horde recruitment officer approached, and Father who, as they all watched, told the orc exactly where he could put his papers.
"I been doin' mah part," he growled, standing tall and menacing over the squat green orc. "I been servin' da Horde in da marshes of Outland, dis be da first time I seen mah wives in a good two yeahs, an' ju not be takin' any of mah sons."
The orc sputtered and muttered and turned on his heel and left, but not before making several comments that suggested that what the Horde was not given, it would take. Father sighed and shook his head when the man was gone, shrinking a bit, and Mama Tiya called out for the family to gather for the evening meal.
It was quiet that night, as they sat and ate together. Kala, in disgrace for the moment, sat furthest from Father's gaze, and Se sat with her. She wasn't quite showing yet, Se thought as, glancing sideways at her sister as she ate her portion of fish and greens. But the younger girl's face glowed with shame whenever anyone looked at her, and no one spoke to her except to indicate that she should pass the food around. It was a look that Se had worn often enough herself, though for different reasons.
--
"He will come again, or another like him."
It was the most she'd spoken in her father's presence, even since before he left, and she felt his gaze on her as she stared at the rug on the floor. The others' gazes prickled at her neck, and she shrugged her shoulders uncomfortably, trying to shake the feeling of panic rising in her stomach. The idea had struck her suddenly, once the remains of the meal had been cleared away and silence had turned to talk of the days events. Someone had mentioned the recruiter, one of the younger boys had piped up and been quieted by Father's stern glare and now she found herself standing, speaking softly but with a confidence she knew she did not truly possess.
Father shifted in his seat, raising one shaggy brow. Mama Betisa clucked disapprovingly, but it was Auntie that Father looked to, and Auntie who nodded for Se to continue, narrow face unreadable.
She swallowed, and suddenly the thoughts that had been shifting and rumbling in her mind, urging her to speak, fell into place and she knew exactly what needed to be said and done. "They will take from us, if they are not given what they want." She glanced up, standing a little taller, straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin as she met her father's gaze. "The Horde accepts women as warriors. I have no place here, and never will. I will go, so that they do not take one of my brothers."
It was a bold suggestion, and she felt her heart pounding in her chest, her palms slippery as she clenched and unclenched her hands behind her. She might, if she had misjudged the situation, be punished for her words. But Father only laughed, the harsh sound hitting the hide walls of the large hut and falling into silence. She stood, head bowed once more, waiting.
It was only when he spoke that she realized how far wrong she had been. It was not that she could not go, no, that he would allow. But she had terribly, terribly overestimated how much he would care.
--
I will not be a burden on this family. The words echoed in her mind, taunting her as she sat up on the rise of the Skyway, dangling her legs off the wooden bridge and feeling the cool wind brush against her toes. So she had promised herself, and she had made good on her words, taking her unwanted self far from them to find some sort of usefulness. But now...
She lowered her head, letting wild red braids fall about her face. Now she was useless in a whole new way, not only a burden but a danger to those around her. Her healing was mediocre at best, and even after weeks of intensive training with the goblins she still couldn't measure up to what was asked of her. What would she do in battle, if she grew exhausted after mending only a few wounds? Death was more permanent than hatred.
She had to fix this. Something had to change. And after all her talks with Violet, despite her annoyance with his confidence that his way was the only right way, she at least had an idea of where to start.
There was a skittering on the floor underneath the hammock, and Se'ala bent down, reaching to pick up the spider as she scurried out to greet her. Two large eyes and six smaller ones stared up at her, shining in the light from the torches on the wall, and she smiled wider, stroking the spider's bristly back. "Long day today, Shen." The spider seemed to nod, bending her front legs a bit and then straightening them again so that she bobbed up and down.
The fight at the bar had been almost a relief after the frustration of this afternoon's training. It had felt good to finally let out some of the pent-up stress and anger from the constant lectures and corrections, to stop feeling like a failure and just do rather than think and worry. Sore though she was, angered though she was by the ass who'd thrown up on her and then grabbed her, she felt lighter now, unburdened. She might not be permitted to drop-kick that sneering little goblin into the lake, but at least she'd gotten to hit someone. It felt good.
As she sat and thought, though, she discovered that there was still a twitchy bit of worry worming its way through her mind. She shifted restlessly, and Shen'ju lifted her legs and daintily moved aside, giving the troll a disapproving look before vanishing into the shadows beneath the hammock. She sighed again. Something told her she wouldn't be getting any sleep until she worked this out.
"Going for a walk," she told the spider, and set the mouse down on the floor for her. "Be safe."
--
Father had been gone long enough that the littlest ones did not even remember him, but he returned almost immediately when word reached him of Kala's condition. There were talks between the two families, arrangements to be made, and once again his stern presence ruled over the family. It was Father who the Horde recruitment officer approached, and Father who, as they all watched, told the orc exactly where he could put his papers.
"I been doin' mah part," he growled, standing tall and menacing over the squat green orc. "I been servin' da Horde in da marshes of Outland, dis be da first time I seen mah wives in a good two yeahs, an' ju not be takin' any of mah sons."
The orc sputtered and muttered and turned on his heel and left, but not before making several comments that suggested that what the Horde was not given, it would take. Father sighed and shook his head when the man was gone, shrinking a bit, and Mama Tiya called out for the family to gather for the evening meal.
It was quiet that night, as they sat and ate together. Kala, in disgrace for the moment, sat furthest from Father's gaze, and Se sat with her. She wasn't quite showing yet, Se thought as, glancing sideways at her sister as she ate her portion of fish and greens. But the younger girl's face glowed with shame whenever anyone looked at her, and no one spoke to her except to indicate that she should pass the food around. It was a look that Se had worn often enough herself, though for different reasons.
--
"He will come again, or another like him."
It was the most she'd spoken in her father's presence, even since before he left, and she felt his gaze on her as she stared at the rug on the floor. The others' gazes prickled at her neck, and she shrugged her shoulders uncomfortably, trying to shake the feeling of panic rising in her stomach. The idea had struck her suddenly, once the remains of the meal had been cleared away and silence had turned to talk of the days events. Someone had mentioned the recruiter, one of the younger boys had piped up and been quieted by Father's stern glare and now she found herself standing, speaking softly but with a confidence she knew she did not truly possess.
Father shifted in his seat, raising one shaggy brow. Mama Betisa clucked disapprovingly, but it was Auntie that Father looked to, and Auntie who nodded for Se to continue, narrow face unreadable.
She swallowed, and suddenly the thoughts that had been shifting and rumbling in her mind, urging her to speak, fell into place and she knew exactly what needed to be said and done. "They will take from us, if they are not given what they want." She glanced up, standing a little taller, straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin as she met her father's gaze. "The Horde accepts women as warriors. I have no place here, and never will. I will go, so that they do not take one of my brothers."
It was a bold suggestion, and she felt her heart pounding in her chest, her palms slippery as she clenched and unclenched her hands behind her. She might, if she had misjudged the situation, be punished for her words. But Father only laughed, the harsh sound hitting the hide walls of the large hut and falling into silence. She stood, head bowed once more, waiting.
It was only when he spoke that she realized how far wrong she had been. It was not that she could not go, no, that he would allow. But she had terribly, terribly overestimated how much he would care.
--
I will not be a burden on this family. The words echoed in her mind, taunting her as she sat up on the rise of the Skyway, dangling her legs off the wooden bridge and feeling the cool wind brush against her toes. So she had promised herself, and she had made good on her words, taking her unwanted self far from them to find some sort of usefulness. But now...
She lowered her head, letting wild red braids fall about her face. Now she was useless in a whole new way, not only a burden but a danger to those around her. Her healing was mediocre at best, and even after weeks of intensive training with the goblins she still couldn't measure up to what was asked of her. What would she do in battle, if she grew exhausted after mending only a few wounds? Death was more permanent than hatred.
She had to fix this. Something had to change. And after all her talks with Violet, despite her annoyance with his confidence that his way was the only right way, she at least had an idea of where to start.