[Yunari] Traveling
Yunari clung to Tashorr, her arms wrapped tightly around him, clutching his belt for added security. Despite her grip, she felt as if she might fall from the wind rider at any moment. The beast beat down with its wings again, leaping higher into the air, and she closed her eyes as once again her stomach was left behind.
The satchel bouncing against her side only served to make her feel more off-balance, and she pressed herself against Tashorr's back, feeling his warmth through the leather he wore. He wouldn't let her fall.
Fingers of wind tugged at her clothes, an icy hand reaching up under her skirt to stroke her leg. She shivered, gritting her teeth. This was Air's domain, after all. It was his right to inspect whatever travelers passed through.
His attention frightened her, though. She well remembered the cunning, constantly changing creature she'd encountered in the wood of spirits, and knew now what he had taken. Up here, so far into his territory, her debts to the other elements might not be enough to protect her and she had to ask herself if perhaps he would try to take even more.
"Yun, look!"
She looked, pulling her face away from his armor, blinking down at the world. Below them, the valley where the old village had stood lay brown and green among the rusted rocks, and a way past it--the Retreat. She let out a sigh of relief, the wind stealing the sound away before Tashorr could notice. She couldn't wait to put her feet on the ground again.
* * * * *
They camped that night at her old spot above the Retreat, a small valley deep in the mountains overlooking the Charred Vale. She had spent hours here, days even, laying designs in the earth, hanging chimes and baubles from the trees. It was bare now, and only the weathered remains of her fire pit were left to show it had ever been used, by shaman or any other.
She knelt, calling up fire from deep within the earth to light the branches her husband gathered. It responded sluggishly at first, perhaps remembering her previous lack of skill, but soon the leaves and bark blazed brightly and they sat warming their hands by it. Yunari retrieved dried meat and fruit from their pack, passing the larger portion to Tashorr, then rested against him to eat, savoring the quiet and the feel of warm fire, warm troll, and a cool evening breeze.
Tashorr moved one arm to lie across her shoulders, his other hand full of the travel food. He seemed quiet, subdued, and she peered up at him. It wasn't like him not to say anything. But then, she reminded herself, he had been unusually solemn for most of the past week. Last night had been an exception, and he had been drunk. Alcohol had always put even her father into the best of moods. Her mouth had been open, about to ask what was troubling him, but she closed it again. The look in his eye, the set of his shoulders--really, she already knew. She began to rise, to fetch more wood for the fire, maybe just to get away for a few moments, and he wrapped both arms around her, holding her close.
"Stay."
It was a command, not a request, and she obeyed. She remained silent, though, looking away as he gazed at her, trying to read her expression.
"Yun. Look at me."
She did.
He sighed, looking down at her, the firelight casting odd shadows and lines across his face. He looked for a moment like some gnarled old tree spirit. She blinked, and the illusion was gone. He was speaking, but she wasn't hearing the words right--they came as if from under water. She blinked again, trying to clear her mind.
"Yun!" He took her shoulders, shaking her, face creasing into a frown. "You all right?" She nodded, and he let out another sigh, lowering her onto his lap and picking up her scattered meal. He handed her one of the pieces of fruit, scowling at her until she ate it, then wrapped his arms around her again. She swallowed the last of the leathery apple and looked around for their waterskin. He handed it to her, watching closely. Once she was finished, he took it from her, setting it aside again, and buried his face in her short hair, tusks scraping along her scalp. "Yun..."
She said nothing, and he pulled his head away, turning her to look at him. "Yunari. We need to talk."
She shrugged. There was nothing to talk about. Or rather, there was, but it wasn't something she wanted to think of, much less discuss with him. He'd make that decision in the end anyway, in truth it was already made, and part of her knew this journey was simply to convince herself that the answer she had been given all along was the right one. Tradition, duty, family...
"Tell me, Yun." She shifted uncomfortably, feeling his knee digging into her side. "Tell me what you think about it." His expression suggested that he knew exactly what she was thinking of trying, and he wasn't going to let her get away with feigning ignorance or silence.
She swallowed, mouth and throat feeling suddenly dry. If he knew how she felt... he already thought her nearly useless as a wife, barely able to cook the most simple of meals without burning it. Not able to climb up to help repair the inn's roof, or to use a bow, thanks to the damage she'd done her left hand.
"I..." She swallowed again, then forced a smile over her face. "I am pleased to do my duty for the tribe." A lie, really. She focused on the small bit of truth in it, thinking of her salves and potions, the long hours spent gathering herbs from the wilds around the village.
Tashorr looked startled at her answer, then suspicious. He leaned a bit closer, eyes narrowing, trying once more to read her thoughts in her face. She clung to her potions in her mind, the smile growing close to genuine, shielding her from his gaze. He nodded slowly, a smile creeping over his own face, eyes widening and shining bright in the light from the fire. He let out a whoop, then picked her up, leaping to his feet, and brought her close in a massive hug.
She glanced away again, face buried in his chest.
* * * * *
They reached the coastal outpost late the next day, weary and still exhilarated from their hunt earlier in the day. Tashorr bore the meat from a fledgling chimera, wrapped in its hide and tied across his shoulders, while Yunari carried the pack of supplies and the satchel containing gifts for the fire spirit. They rested in one of the empty huts set aside as an inn, Tashorr sleeping curled up with his arms around her, while she lay stiff and stared at the patterned hides of the wall. She wasn't ready. This would make her ready. She had to hope that it would.
They had rented a fishing boat, though the orc who owned it refused to go anywhere near the island Yunari described to him. A strange place, he said, full of creatures who would rip your chest open and eat your heart while it still beat. Demon creatures, like he'd seen years ago at the great battle. He insisted on taking most of their remaining gold for the boat, promising with a laugh to return half of it when they returned. Or, as his eyes said, looking over the couple: if they survived.
In the morning, they would begin the final leg of their journey.
The satchel bouncing against her side only served to make her feel more off-balance, and she pressed herself against Tashorr's back, feeling his warmth through the leather he wore. He wouldn't let her fall.
Fingers of wind tugged at her clothes, an icy hand reaching up under her skirt to stroke her leg. She shivered, gritting her teeth. This was Air's domain, after all. It was his right to inspect whatever travelers passed through.
His attention frightened her, though. She well remembered the cunning, constantly changing creature she'd encountered in the wood of spirits, and knew now what he had taken. Up here, so far into his territory, her debts to the other elements might not be enough to protect her and she had to ask herself if perhaps he would try to take even more.
"Yun, look!"
She looked, pulling her face away from his armor, blinking down at the world. Below them, the valley where the old village had stood lay brown and green among the rusted rocks, and a way past it--the Retreat. She let out a sigh of relief, the wind stealing the sound away before Tashorr could notice. She couldn't wait to put her feet on the ground again.
* * * * *
They camped that night at her old spot above the Retreat, a small valley deep in the mountains overlooking the Charred Vale. She had spent hours here, days even, laying designs in the earth, hanging chimes and baubles from the trees. It was bare now, and only the weathered remains of her fire pit were left to show it had ever been used, by shaman or any other.
She knelt, calling up fire from deep within the earth to light the branches her husband gathered. It responded sluggishly at first, perhaps remembering her previous lack of skill, but soon the leaves and bark blazed brightly and they sat warming their hands by it. Yunari retrieved dried meat and fruit from their pack, passing the larger portion to Tashorr, then rested against him to eat, savoring the quiet and the feel of warm fire, warm troll, and a cool evening breeze.
Tashorr moved one arm to lie across her shoulders, his other hand full of the travel food. He seemed quiet, subdued, and she peered up at him. It wasn't like him not to say anything. But then, she reminded herself, he had been unusually solemn for most of the past week. Last night had been an exception, and he had been drunk. Alcohol had always put even her father into the best of moods. Her mouth had been open, about to ask what was troubling him, but she closed it again. The look in his eye, the set of his shoulders--really, she already knew. She began to rise, to fetch more wood for the fire, maybe just to get away for a few moments, and he wrapped both arms around her, holding her close.
"Stay."
It was a command, not a request, and she obeyed. She remained silent, though, looking away as he gazed at her, trying to read her expression.
"Yun. Look at me."
She did.
He sighed, looking down at her, the firelight casting odd shadows and lines across his face. He looked for a moment like some gnarled old tree spirit. She blinked, and the illusion was gone. He was speaking, but she wasn't hearing the words right--they came as if from under water. She blinked again, trying to clear her mind.
"Yun!" He took her shoulders, shaking her, face creasing into a frown. "You all right?" She nodded, and he let out another sigh, lowering her onto his lap and picking up her scattered meal. He handed her one of the pieces of fruit, scowling at her until she ate it, then wrapped his arms around her again. She swallowed the last of the leathery apple and looked around for their waterskin. He handed it to her, watching closely. Once she was finished, he took it from her, setting it aside again, and buried his face in her short hair, tusks scraping along her scalp. "Yun..."
She said nothing, and he pulled his head away, turning her to look at him. "Yunari. We need to talk."
She shrugged. There was nothing to talk about. Or rather, there was, but it wasn't something she wanted to think of, much less discuss with him. He'd make that decision in the end anyway, in truth it was already made, and part of her knew this journey was simply to convince herself that the answer she had been given all along was the right one. Tradition, duty, family...
"Tell me, Yun." She shifted uncomfortably, feeling his knee digging into her side. "Tell me what you think about it." His expression suggested that he knew exactly what she was thinking of trying, and he wasn't going to let her get away with feigning ignorance or silence.
She swallowed, mouth and throat feeling suddenly dry. If he knew how she felt... he already thought her nearly useless as a wife, barely able to cook the most simple of meals without burning it. Not able to climb up to help repair the inn's roof, or to use a bow, thanks to the damage she'd done her left hand.
"I..." She swallowed again, then forced a smile over her face. "I am pleased to do my duty for the tribe." A lie, really. She focused on the small bit of truth in it, thinking of her salves and potions, the long hours spent gathering herbs from the wilds around the village.
Tashorr looked startled at her answer, then suspicious. He leaned a bit closer, eyes narrowing, trying once more to read her thoughts in her face. She clung to her potions in her mind, the smile growing close to genuine, shielding her from his gaze. He nodded slowly, a smile creeping over his own face, eyes widening and shining bright in the light from the fire. He let out a whoop, then picked her up, leaping to his feet, and brought her close in a massive hug.
She glanced away again, face buried in his chest.
* * * * *
They reached the coastal outpost late the next day, weary and still exhilarated from their hunt earlier in the day. Tashorr bore the meat from a fledgling chimera, wrapped in its hide and tied across his shoulders, while Yunari carried the pack of supplies and the satchel containing gifts for the fire spirit. They rested in one of the empty huts set aside as an inn, Tashorr sleeping curled up with his arms around her, while she lay stiff and stared at the patterned hides of the wall. She wasn't ready. This would make her ready. She had to hope that it would.
They had rented a fishing boat, though the orc who owned it refused to go anywhere near the island Yunari described to him. A strange place, he said, full of creatures who would rip your chest open and eat your heart while it still beat. Demon creatures, like he'd seen years ago at the great battle. He insisted on taking most of their remaining gold for the boat, promising with a laugh to return half of it when they returned. Or, as his eyes said, looking over the couple: if they survived.
In the morning, they would begin the final leg of their journey.