In which our heroine retrieves a blanket.
A couple of days after moving in with G'thon it is finally time for Miniyal to face her mother and let her know. To confirm rumors going around that her daughter is now sharing living space with an old dragonless man. To say that things do not go well is, well, correct. Although peace of a sort was made. Kind of. In a general sense. That is, there was no screaming and neither hates the other. So. . .progress! But tenseness will certainly exist from now on. Silly mother/daughter dynamic!
Note: I started to do this in third person. But. . .somehow it didn't look right. So, 2/3s through I went back and revised to first. I think vignettes are just always going to be first person from now on. Although I may have missed a correction in this one so please be kind with the grammar. Well, if you read anything I write you had best be kind with my grammar! ;)
My hand hovered over the door. I had to knock because otherwise there was no way the woman on the other side would know I was out here. So, I had to. That did not mean I would be /able/ to, but I had to. It had been two days already and she probably knew already.
A thought which had me considering just. . .letting it go. But Navan had told me to and every day I went into records and he was there, watching me, knowing I hadn’t done it yet. So, with a deep breath I finally let my hand come down on the door. A soft, hesitant knock sure, but a knock. Which was not answered. Standing there, fidgeting with my dress, touching my hair, glancing up and down the hall, I took another of those breaths. Finally, when I was about to knock again, or flee, the door opened.
“Oh, Mini,” greeted me and there was the barest of winces. Well, I expected Corin to still be mad. “I, umm. It’s your rest day. So, you know. I thought you’d be home. Do you have a minute?” Feet shuffled as I waited. Watched my mother. Waited as my mother watched me before she finally stepped back to allow her wayward daughter in.
“Of course, I was just doing a little painting. Come in, dear. I’ll get you a drink.” Corin left the door open as if I should walk in, and so I did. Shutting the door softly before moving to the table. I eyed said table for a moment before sitting down, hands folded atop it as I waited, looking around to see what new project is being worked on.
“I, well. . .I wanted to come see you.” Yeeees. Of course I did. How believable was that? Not at all. But Corin was blissfully unaware as she poured out klah and brought it to the table with no sweetener to offer. Of course. I let out a little sigh as I took the cup and then a sip. I couldn’t even wrinkle my nose at the strength of it, instead smiling over at Corin in thanks.
“Have you spoken to your father?” asked with some disapproval in her tone. Because, clearly the problem is between them, Corin being above such things. “He was most upset about that night. Really, Mini. I raised you better than that. You might /try/ at least to show you’ve some manners.” All of this was accepted with my head tilted down, to hide the annoyance. Because I was raised, after all, with some manners.
Until there was silence my gaze remained on the table and only when Corin pauses for breath do I dare to look up and speak. “I’ve a few things I’ve kept here over the turns. I’d like to get them. There’s room in my new quarters for them so I needn’t be a burden on you anymore.”
Corin is not as slow as she sometimes lets on and there’s a quick intake of breath as the words sink in. “Oh, Mini, you didn’t. If this is because of your father?” Because it cannot be Corin’s fault. It very clearly never is. Ever. Like, in her life.
“It’s not because of anyone,” I said firmly, following that lie with a shake of my head. “No, that’s not true. It’s because of him, Corin. I love him. I was practically living there anyway. We’ve just made it official.” I paused, daring to peek up at her for a second and seeing the disapproval I knew I would writ all over her face. Well, I knew it would not be easy.
Another deep breath and before she could leap in I continued. “I just want my things. And. . .and for you to not be mad at me.” I couldn’t tell her Navan and I were fine. I doubt he had either. That was a truth that, for now, needed to remain out of her grasp. Maybe later she could know. “I know you think this is a mistake, but it’s not.”
I had more to say, more to try to convince her but there was no chance. It was an indication of her mood that she rose to her feet, cutting me off. Tsk. Bad manners. Not that I dared say anything. “Well, let’s just gather up your things then,” was said to me in faux cheer. I knew that tone. Had been hearing it for turns. Only this time there was no voice in my head to back her up. Not /speaking/ anyway. This was starting to worry me.
“There’s not much,” I said, casual as I could, rising to my feet and at least thankful to abort any attempt to drink that klah. Left over from breakfast from the taste of it. Tsk. Bad manners. There was not another word from Corin as she helped me gather up the few items remaining. An old doll, a couple of childhood books, a few trinkets, all wrapped up into my blanket. It was really all I wanted anyway. My favorite shade of blue. Like the sky when the sun is almost down, so dark, but still so blue.
The silence lingered, weighing down the room as I tied everything off and then headed for the door. She would speak before I left. She always had to have the last word. That I did not let her at dinner probably rankles the most. As my hand found the door I steeled myself for what would be said. It would not be pretty. It rarely was these days. For all I was a disappointment as a daughter she wouldn’t let me change. Not in her eyes.
“Mini,” so resigned she sounded, so weary of the world. She was good at that. “Mini, he will break your heart. I am just trying to protect you.” Maybe she was, in her own way. But keeping me away from what little happiness I had found wasn’t what I needed.
As I turned the knob on the door I turned to face her, waiting to step out. “Probably,” I answered, sounding so much braver than I was. As if I was not concerned that my heart would be shattered someday, that it would have to be. “I know that, Corin. I can hope and wish all I want for things in the future and never get them. But I won’t live like that. Losing something now because I know it will be lost to me in the future. Now. Right now? I have him. And I love him, Corin. Knowing full well it could break me later. I don’t care. You and everyone else may think it is weird. May talk all you want. We make sense to each other. And when we’re together sometimes I make sense to myself. Thank you for my things and for the klah.”
Lingering, waiting for her to get in her parting shot (she would not be happy otherwise) I tried to convince myself I believed what I had just told her. That I was strong enough to take what happiness I had now and trade it against a lifetime of pain later. “I am just looking out for you. It won’t be him that has to pick you up and piece you back together when it ends.” I suppose it was rude to leave as soon as the last word left her lips. Well, she was rude first. Which is the excuse of a ten turn old, but so be it.
I did not slam the door, letting it close softly before carrying my stuff back to my room. Not that I had exactly settled in. Most things sat still in their chest, but it was progress of a sort. When I took something out I did not return it to where I got it from. I merely did not. . .unpack.
“Gans,” I called softly as I stepped into the room, listening for him and hearing nothing. Well, it’s not as if I expected him to be about all the time. My things I dumped into the chest, all but the blanket. From the shelf I selected a random book and sat down on the divan, wrapped in my childhood blanket. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I remember was a cool hand stroking my hair. Without a sound I curled up against him. If pain and sorrow kill me later so be it. It would be worth it.
Note: I started to do this in third person. But. . .somehow it didn't look right. So, 2/3s through I went back and revised to first. I think vignettes are just always going to be first person from now on. Although I may have missed a correction in this one so please be kind with the grammar. Well, if you read anything I write you had best be kind with my grammar! ;)
My hand hovered over the door. I had to knock because otherwise there was no way the woman on the other side would know I was out here. So, I had to. That did not mean I would be /able/ to, but I had to. It had been two days already and she probably knew already.
A thought which had me considering just. . .letting it go. But Navan had told me to and every day I went into records and he was there, watching me, knowing I hadn’t done it yet. So, with a deep breath I finally let my hand come down on the door. A soft, hesitant knock sure, but a knock. Which was not answered. Standing there, fidgeting with my dress, touching my hair, glancing up and down the hall, I took another of those breaths. Finally, when I was about to knock again, or flee, the door opened.
“Oh, Mini,” greeted me and there was the barest of winces. Well, I expected Corin to still be mad. “I, umm. It’s your rest day. So, you know. I thought you’d be home. Do you have a minute?” Feet shuffled as I waited. Watched my mother. Waited as my mother watched me before she finally stepped back to allow her wayward daughter in.
“Of course, I was just doing a little painting. Come in, dear. I’ll get you a drink.” Corin left the door open as if I should walk in, and so I did. Shutting the door softly before moving to the table. I eyed said table for a moment before sitting down, hands folded atop it as I waited, looking around to see what new project is being worked on.
“I, well. . .I wanted to come see you.” Yeeees. Of course I did. How believable was that? Not at all. But Corin was blissfully unaware as she poured out klah and brought it to the table with no sweetener to offer. Of course. I let out a little sigh as I took the cup and then a sip. I couldn’t even wrinkle my nose at the strength of it, instead smiling over at Corin in thanks.
“Have you spoken to your father?” asked with some disapproval in her tone. Because, clearly the problem is between them, Corin being above such things. “He was most upset about that night. Really, Mini. I raised you better than that. You might /try/ at least to show you’ve some manners.” All of this was accepted with my head tilted down, to hide the annoyance. Because I was raised, after all, with some manners.
Until there was silence my gaze remained on the table and only when Corin pauses for breath do I dare to look up and speak. “I’ve a few things I’ve kept here over the turns. I’d like to get them. There’s room in my new quarters for them so I needn’t be a burden on you anymore.”
Corin is not as slow as she sometimes lets on and there’s a quick intake of breath as the words sink in. “Oh, Mini, you didn’t. If this is because of your father?” Because it cannot be Corin’s fault. It very clearly never is. Ever. Like, in her life.
“It’s not because of anyone,” I said firmly, following that lie with a shake of my head. “No, that’s not true. It’s because of him, Corin. I love him. I was practically living there anyway. We’ve just made it official.” I paused, daring to peek up at her for a second and seeing the disapproval I knew I would writ all over her face. Well, I knew it would not be easy.
Another deep breath and before she could leap in I continued. “I just want my things. And. . .and for you to not be mad at me.” I couldn’t tell her Navan and I were fine. I doubt he had either. That was a truth that, for now, needed to remain out of her grasp. Maybe later she could know. “I know you think this is a mistake, but it’s not.”
I had more to say, more to try to convince her but there was no chance. It was an indication of her mood that she rose to her feet, cutting me off. Tsk. Bad manners. Not that I dared say anything. “Well, let’s just gather up your things then,” was said to me in faux cheer. I knew that tone. Had been hearing it for turns. Only this time there was no voice in my head to back her up. Not /speaking/ anyway. This was starting to worry me.
“There’s not much,” I said, casual as I could, rising to my feet and at least thankful to abort any attempt to drink that klah. Left over from breakfast from the taste of it. Tsk. Bad manners. There was not another word from Corin as she helped me gather up the few items remaining. An old doll, a couple of childhood books, a few trinkets, all wrapped up into my blanket. It was really all I wanted anyway. My favorite shade of blue. Like the sky when the sun is almost down, so dark, but still so blue.
The silence lingered, weighing down the room as I tied everything off and then headed for the door. She would speak before I left. She always had to have the last word. That I did not let her at dinner probably rankles the most. As my hand found the door I steeled myself for what would be said. It would not be pretty. It rarely was these days. For all I was a disappointment as a daughter she wouldn’t let me change. Not in her eyes.
“Mini,” so resigned she sounded, so weary of the world. She was good at that. “Mini, he will break your heart. I am just trying to protect you.” Maybe she was, in her own way. But keeping me away from what little happiness I had found wasn’t what I needed.
As I turned the knob on the door I turned to face her, waiting to step out. “Probably,” I answered, sounding so much braver than I was. As if I was not concerned that my heart would be shattered someday, that it would have to be. “I know that, Corin. I can hope and wish all I want for things in the future and never get them. But I won’t live like that. Losing something now because I know it will be lost to me in the future. Now. Right now? I have him. And I love him, Corin. Knowing full well it could break me later. I don’t care. You and everyone else may think it is weird. May talk all you want. We make sense to each other. And when we’re together sometimes I make sense to myself. Thank you for my things and for the klah.”
Lingering, waiting for her to get in her parting shot (she would not be happy otherwise) I tried to convince myself I believed what I had just told her. That I was strong enough to take what happiness I had now and trade it against a lifetime of pain later. “I am just looking out for you. It won’t be him that has to pick you up and piece you back together when it ends.” I suppose it was rude to leave as soon as the last word left her lips. Well, she was rude first. Which is the excuse of a ten turn old, but so be it.
I did not slam the door, letting it close softly before carrying my stuff back to my room. Not that I had exactly settled in. Most things sat still in their chest, but it was progress of a sort. When I took something out I did not return it to where I got it from. I merely did not. . .unpack.
“Gans,” I called softly as I stepped into the room, listening for him and hearing nothing. Well, it’s not as if I expected him to be about all the time. My things I dumped into the chest, all but the blanket. From the shelf I selected a random book and sat down on the divan, wrapped in my childhood blanket. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I remember was a cool hand stroking my hair. Without a sound I curled up against him. If pain and sorrow kill me later so be it. It would be worth it.