[Closed] Tea and Tension

[Ava Weaver]

Midday, 10th Yaris, 2719
Talia’s Tea and Leaves, Kingsway Market, Uptown

Ava turned to glance at the sign, and then back to Cat, her eyes wide and appreciative. She did not interrupt though; she let Cat finish with her hands, paying careful attention to her quick and rapid gestures. Some of the words she did not know, but she understood the gist - Cat made jewelry and weapons, she would trade something for signs.

Cat was working, Ava thought, on a big project. Something that made her afraid? She had seen something like a flash of fear on the other woman’s face, an inward withdrawing that she had shaken away.

“The sign is beautiful,” Ava said gently into the other woman’s stillness, a soft nudge.

Cat continued, her motions quick and fluid; Ava had to watch carefully to follow her, although she did not let the effort of it show on her face. Her smile remained friendly and pleasant, encouraging, and she nodded slowly when Cat said what she had said about a thing’s use is to be beautiful.

“That’s a lovely sentiment,” Ava said, firmly, confident enough in her understanding to respond directly. “But I don’t think you should need to choose! Your sign is a wonderful example of both, I think,” her smile crinkled her eyes, lighting her whole face. “It has a very practical use, of course, but its beauty helps draw one’s eye to the tea shop.”

Ava did not look down at her dress, but she might have; she wore only her own fabrics, beautiful things made into useful shapes, and she rather thought that Cat had put her finger on the heart of it. Sometimes a thing’s use was to be beautiful; it was a lesson that Ava tried to teach her customers every day, the ones who could, maybe, afford a fabric nicer than the rough linen of every day wear, who could buy a panel of something lovely for a dress or shirt. Fabric wasn’t lovely in the abstract though, at least not to Ava’s customers; it was lovely in the way it made them feel, in the pride they took in wearing it. Few things made her prouder as a shopkeeper than seeing someone return dressed in the fabric she had sold them, than seeing someone having found pride in themselves through something beautiful.

The music swelled, and Ava could not quite resist glancing over at Aodh, enjoying the tea, company and music alike. She thought perhaps Cat was looking somewhere else, off into the distance, but she could not tell what the other woman was focusing on.

“I’ve no skill as a tailor, I’m afraid,” Ava said, smiling. “I hope you might come and see my shop some time, though, if you’re ever in the Painted Ladies.”

The music had ended, and Ava was a little sorry to think of Aodh going; she did not think she could have gotten up and gone to speak with him, not outside, but she wished she could have told him she liked his song.

There was a moment of quiet, and then the soft, rough tones of Aodh’s voice, his familiar northern burr, the brush of the edges of his unobtrusive glamour. Ava looked up in surprise, and her smile broadened, a faint hint of genuine pleasure for just a moment, before she smoothed it back into a smile appropriate for a shopkeeping woman greeting a wick tradesman in public - friendly, polite, kind, but not too broad.

“Good day, Mr. Elzo,” Ava said. “I’m well, and I hope you are also?” her eyes crinkled slightly more at the edges, and smoothed out; she did not look down at his ankle, not more than the faintest flicker of her gaze. “Cat,” She turned to the other woman. “This is Aodh Elzo, the man who was just playing so beautifully outside. Mr. Elzo, this is Cat, a very talented blacksmith.”

Ava did not invite Aodh to join them; she would have liked to, very much. It was terribly awkward to have him looming over them, and she thought he did not enjoy it either. In truth, there was nothing she would have liked more than for him to sit with them - and yet she did not ask, she could not ask. She did not know who else was in the tea shop that day; she did not know who might see and who might wonder. Better - safer - not to be seen being too friendly with him.

[Catriona Fraser]

The 10th of Yaris, 2719 • midday • Talia’s Teas and Leaves

Cat looked the Wick over intently. He wasn’t anyone that she’d met before but she was sure she’d likely heard him in the market. Wick didn’t frighten her the way Galdori did and she often traded them for supplies. For a culture that loved to be well adorned, she often made jewelry for her Wick customers. Too, however, weapons were made for many Wick who felt the need to protect themselves. Especially ones that were easily concealed. Cat wondered if this Wick with the velvet voice and beautiful music carried his own form of defense on him. She signed to him, as always just hoping for the best that he would understand her. “It’s nice to meet you. Your song was beautiful. And the acoustics in the market don’t hurt either.”

He stood over the two ladies awkwardly, as if he were unsure if he should stay or leave. So she signed again, gesturing in case he didn’t understand. “Won’t you join us, Mr. Aodh?”

Her eyes, however, never left the Seventen that was now making his way toward a nearby stall. She watched the Seventen ask the vendor something, the vendor laughed and pointed over at Cat and Ava where they sat at the tea stall. More words, more nodding and passing of papers, and the jeweler’s face was getting redder by the second. The Seventen seemed satisfied, spoke to the jeweler, and returned to his post. The jeweler began packing up his stall in a huff, glaring at her. Right then, Cat decided to sleep with a dagger under her pillow.

Perhaps it was due to the distraction but Cat misunderstood the way Ava spoke to him. It was obvious they knew one another, but Ms. Weaver was keeping herself at bay, not being nearly as warm and friendly as she was to Cat but of course not as cold as she’d been to Mr. Sharpe. Cat hoped she had not overstepped by inviting him to sit.

Whether or not Mr. Aodh sat, Cat was already pulling a parchment from her pocket and drawing on it. She drew as fast as she signed. Once she finished drawing and writing, she passed the paper to Ava, smiling and then signed. “You’d be surprised at how often I find myself in sticky situations. It’s awfully exciting to be a human in Uptown, isn’t it?” Her face dripped with sarcasm.

The paper had a crude drawing of some shears, and the Black Cat Smithy up in the top left corner. In the bottom right corner was a number. 2 Shills. As Ava looked at the paper she signed, “I work in trade as well if that price isn’t suitable.” She then realized if Ava was looking at her paper, she wasn’t looking at her hands so she waited for Ava to look up to sign it again.

Cat then turned to Aodh, signing. “Your song...did you write it yourself?”

[Aodh Elzo]

The 10th of Yaris, 2719. Midday

Aodh beamed at Ava's kind words about his performance, the pride clear in his face.

The fact that she seemed genuinely pleased to see him bolstered his mood further.

"I'm grand thank ye Miss Weaver, just out making a bit a ging. There's none in need'a brushes see."

When Ava introduced Cat Aodh inclined his head in greeting and said.

"Junta! Miss Cat, aye, I thought I'd seen you around the market."

When Cat started to sign Aodh recognized it, and cursed himself for never having learned any.
When she indicated the seat at the table however he smiled his thanks and lowered himself into glad to have the wait off his right leg.

Aodh smiled apologetically to Cat as he said.

"I'm sorry Miss Cat, but I don't know sign language. A failing on my part I'm afraid."

[Ava Weaver]

Midday, 10th Yaris, 2719
Talia’s Tea and Leaves, Kingsway Market, Uptown

Cat gestured at the chair, and Aodh sat, a little heavily.

“Is your ankle feeling any better?” Ava asked him with an easy smile. She asked like there was nothing secret about the knowledge. She asked with no recognition in her voice or manner that she had bandaged Aodh’s ankle in the dead of night, that he had come to her limping and white as a sheet with pain, still shaking with the memory of having nearly been mauled by a dog. She asked like anyone might have known, as if it were the sort of thing she had casually noticed, as if perhaps Aodh had been limping, the last time he’d come to deliver brushes.

Cat was clearly distracted now, and this time Ava could follow her gaze - all the way to a Seventen, deep in conversation with a vendor. There was a moment when he pointed at them that Ava felt a terrible chill prickle down her spine; she turned back to Cat.

Ava raised her eyebrows at Cat’s sentence. She did not reply with her words, not this time; it was a busy, bustling tea shop. There might have been eyes on them, but Ava took a little chance, guessing that they were not watched closely enough to see the nuance of her hands.

Instead of speaking her reply, Ava set her tea down and gestured, the motions of her hands easy and graceful. “And in the rest of Anaxas,” she signed, and arched a delicate eyebrow. She did not let her face give away that there was anything odd, anything that would have needed hiding about the response, her expression smoothing easily back into her usual smile.

It was a little bold, especially for a tea shop in the middle of Uptown; but, then, even if someone had understood, it did not commit her too far. Two women and a wick, complaining that things were hard? Who would look twice at it? But for all that Ava did not let it show on her face, she watched intently for Cat’s response - to see, even, if agreement would flicker across her face.

Aodh interjected, apologizing for not knowing how to sign. Ava smiled at the two of them. “Cat was just saying that she enjoyed your song,” Ava translated, easily. “And some details about shears I’m planning to purchase from her,” Ava waved the paper, gently, and set it back down. “At one shill, perhaps?” She offered the much lower price with an easy, friendly smile.

Two shills was not an outrageous price; Ava had scraped tallies and hats for a long time, buying day old bread instead of morning fresh, going without butter, using milk only for customers and for the small gray cat who had deigned to grace her with the pleasure of his company. Those little savings meant that she could afford two shills, and she had come to Kingsway Market prepared to pay such a price, if she had to.

But, of course, one did not survive in Vienda without trying to save. She thought she and Cat would understand each other; there was no harm from Cat in asking two shills, and there was no harm in her asking if one might do. She did not expect Cat to agree; she expected them to settle somewhere between, where they might both be happy. Saving even two or three tallies off the asking price would be well worth the haggling.

“She also asked if you wrote that song you were playing,” Ava continued. She would not hold Cat’s question hostage as a bargaining tactic, and she continued a little quicker than she might have to make sure Cat knew it. “I must admit, I’m curious to know that as well.” Her eyes crinkled at the edges again, the smile on her face broad and pleasant once more, that faint hint of fear of the Seventen swept away. Ava took another sip of tea, happy to continue translating.

[Catriona Fraser]

The 10th of Yaris, 2719 • midday • Talia’s Teas and Leaves

Ava’s signing was...actually fluid and graceful. Cat signed quickly to try and keep up with how quickly one would use spoken conversation. There was nothing worse than trying to do business and having to draw out the conversation. Nothing worse than a transaction ended in frustration. But no, Ava signed as Cat would have and quite well. It was a nice surprise. She nodded at the words intently, her face a dismal one as she thought of the past injustices and the current threat hanging over her head. Cat’s eternal silence was the ultimate proof of how it was to be a human in Anaxas. To be human anywhere around here was to wonder if today would be the day someone would raid your business, mug you in broad daylight, or just outright murder you in an alley somewhere. They could pretend. They could drink their tea in the market and make friends but underneath it all any human or wick with half a brain knew that one had to be keenly aware of who was listening, always aware of what was happening around them, of the mood of the crowd. Any little thing could mean the difference between spending the night at home or in a cell.

Her grim expression had probably been on her face for too long and looking grim with her scar had a rather scary effect. So she tried to smile and then really did smile as Ava started haggling her down. The shears, while they could be worth two shills, certainly would not sell for such. Cat admitted to herself she’d have been a little disappointed if Ava had not attempted to bring her price down.

With the fire of someone making a deal in her eyes, she wrote down 1 shill, 5 tallies and then signed, “and they’ll be really pretty.” Her eyes gleaming as she smiled.

But not even the joys of haggling could prevent her from thinking of the Galdor woman who was likely waiting for her at her forge right now. Her money was good and that was why Cat had taken the commission. But she couldn’t shake the words of the Galdor woman, that she had plans for Cat should she be dissatisfied with the final piece. Cat also was a bit worried that the expense of the sword and the profit she was going to make was some sort of trap for her. But perhaps she was just being paranoid.

Still, Cat was getting nervous. She was carrying a great amount of both coin and jewels around her neck (literally) and while she appreciated the conversation and the business, she hoped Ava didn’t haggle further. She really needed to get back to her forge.

[Aodh Elzo]

The 10th of Yaris, 2719. Midday

Aodh smiled at Ava's question, no guile to her you'd think to look at her, but she was just as smooth as her namesake and twice as sharp.

"Oh aye tis healin' well enough Miss Weaver, not yet dancin' fit mind."


He chuckled, then he noticed Ava's glance, in the same direction as Cat had. As he took a swig of tea he sent a quick look the same way, Seventen, talking to some red faced merchant.

Aodh's outward appearance of humble wick busker taking his ease remain unruffled. Inside Firebrand was watching for exits, trouble and a good place to hold the brigk bastards back if Ava and Cat needed to run.

Putting the cup back down he smiled at Cat.

"Thank you Miss Cat, I'm fair glad you enjoyed it."

To his mind a shill for a pair of shears wasn't an unfair price, though it wasn't his business to comment. The question of the songs origins made him smile again.

"It's an old song of my clan, my gitgka taught it me when I was a young'un. You should hear the pack of use singin' it, once we've had a flagon or three."

It did him good to talk about his clan, he thought back to the last time he had seen them. Last Feast of St. Grumble when they had all play up a storm at the Clockwork Stag, he smiled fondly at the memory.

So Miss Cat, how do you find Uptown?”

Aodh had an idea how it would be, a human running her own business Uptown, it was bad enough just living in this city at times. Damned Jent, lording it over honest folk.

He could see Cat seemed distracted, maybe anxious about something, though it wasn't his place to ask, he did wonder if there was a way he could help.

[Ava Weaver]

Midday, 10th Yaris, 2719
Talia’s Tea and Leaves, Kingsway Market, Uptown

Aodh promised that his ankle was much improved, and Ava might nearly have believed him if he hadn’t seen how grateful he’d been to sit. All the same, she wasn’t quite sure what she’d expected; this was a man who’d run across the city on one of the worst sprains she’d ever seen, and sat pale-faced and sweating on her couch in agonizing silence rather than cry out as she removed his boot.

Ava could tell she had touched a nerve with Cat; the other woman’s scar lent her frown an almost sinister look, but she didn’t scare Ava. She’d seen enough of Cat already to know better, to read her better than that. That quick, stilted nod - the way her eyes seemed to be gazing back into the past, rather than looking at Ava or Aodh. No, Ava thought, it wasn’t only Uptown where a human had best beware. It wasn’t only Uptown where injustice was a daily reality.

It wasn’t only Uptown where she and Aodh and all the rest of the Resistance would forge a path, through fire and blood if that was what it took, to a better future. And sitting there, in her lovely cotton brown dress with the silk sleeves, a soft, easy smile on her face, Ava had little doubt that that was what it would take.

Yes, Ava thought; she would very much look forward to seeing Cat again, and not only for the shears.

Ava giggled at Cat’s counter-offer. “She promises they’ll be pretty,” she told Aodh with a cheerful smile, happy to include him. “Let’s say one shill, three tallies, and we’ll have a deal.” Cat had come down considerably with her first offer; Ava didn’t mind going a little more than halfway up to her second to meet her.

Aodh was explaining, now, that it was a clan song, and Ava smiled at him, thinking of the story of his mandolin, thinking of the pain he’d hinted at that lay where the memory of his brother was. “I can only imagine,” she grinned, and made ready to translate whatever Cat might want to say.

But for all that Cat had had a bright, fierce grin on her face, she was fidgeting now, glancing around and looking anxious.

Ava pressed her lips together for a moment. She hated to impose - she was sure Aodh did need the weight off his ankle. But Cat was carrying a truly large diamond, and Ava was sure she wasn’t too comfortable out in the market, exposed.

“Actually,” Ava interjected, gently, before Cat could answer Aodh’s question. “While you answer - it would be lovely to see the forge, if you wouldn’t mind leading the way,” Ava smiled at Cat, flicked the edge of a meaningful gaze at Aodh, and continued. “I’m sure Mr. Elzo would enjoy it as well.” She would, Ava promised herself, make it up to him another time. But she herself wasn’t much use in a fight or against a thief; Firebrand was a different story, as well she knew. Aodh might not know why she asked this favor of him, and she certainly could not say aloud that Cat carried the largest diamond she had ever seen, but she thought - she hoped - that he would follow her lead.

[Catriona Fraser]

The 10th of Yaris, 2719 • midday • Talia’s Teas and Leaves

Cat smiled and signed, counting on Ava for translation, going a tad slower for her benefit, “Oh I’ve lived here for years, since I was a kid so I suppose I like it well enough.” She smiled, trying to stay in the conversation a moment longer. “I...I’m known to most of the older Galdor here...and humans too who patronized my Master.” The sign she used for Master could also be interpreted as teacher, a respectful word for apprentices and learners. “If you ever need anything made...or just an ear, you are welcome to visit my forge.”

If it had occurred to Cat to ask about the man’s ankle, it had occurred too late. Cat wondered if the man had only tripped or of something more sinister had caused his injury. She could see him taking stock of the place around them and instantly liked him for it. Listening to him talk about his clan made him think of her own family. They’d not been the kind to sing songs together but many of the field hands had taught her about the farmer songs. A different song for each part of the process. Planting and harvesting songs were her favorites and as a little child she’d often find herself marching through the fields singing along. But that was a different time. Cat didn’t sing now, instead she preferred to listen to the beautiful tones put forth by the street musicians and occasionally she’d hum along.

As Ava put forth her offer she smiled and signed, “Deal.” Cat shook Ava’s hand to solidify it. In truth she could not haggle the way she normally would. Not now. Normally she would ask for half up front but much like horseshoes and hinges, a pair of shears would not cost enough to warrant an overhead. Plus she really needed to leave. She could still see the angry merchant packing up his stall and she did not mistake his glare in her direction.

Too, she was keenly aware of a clock ticking on her project. Within the next 5 days, the Galdor would return, this time with her husband in tow. And they would either present her with payment for this gorgeous sword...or they would kill her with it. At least that was the woman’s threat. Never in her history of making anything had a customer been so disappointed that they wanted to commit murder. But Galdori could definitely be high strung and unreasonable. Best not to do anything to upset them.

Just as she was about to take her leave, Ava had a wonderful idea. Let’s all visit Cat’s forge! Cat was just about to shut her down when she remembered what she was carrying. No doubt Ava was suggesting safety in numbers. Before she stood, Cat felt for the dagger in her boot and nodded before signing, “That would be nice, that is, if Mr. Elzo is not in too much pain to join us.”She didn’t want to be the reason the Wick’s injury didn’t heal properly.

Cat stood and brushed her dress down, patting where the pouch fell against her sternum. Whether Mr. Elzo joined them or not, Cat began leading the way to her forge. Her forge, though like any human, nothing was quite hers, was owned by a Mr. Raynarus. Her teacher who only four years ago had retired, leaving her the forge, had been a hard Galdor. He took no nonsense and had little patience for when his apprentice became too overwhelmed with her girlish emotions. Still, where would Cat be without him? Still on her farm in Bad Aisling, no doubt.

They passed a few lone businesses on the way, including a bakery, who’s baker came running out to meet them before they could pass. Not taking no for an answer, the stout human man put a bag of rolls in her hand.

“I made ‘em with berries, Cat. I knowing ye said loaves fer the payment but...berries!”

Never had anyone seen anyone else as excited about berries as this man. Holding the bag on the crook of her arm she signed, “If these are berry sweet rolls then we had better just call the matter settled. Seeing as how they’re worth far more than loaves.” She suddenly remembered her companions and signed, “New friends Mr. Horace. This is Ava Weaver, a talented draper from the Painted Ladies. And Mr. Aodh Elzo, the finest violinist Vienda has to offer.”

The man now known as Mr. Horace made quick work of shaking their hands with his meaty one and then patted Cat on the head and Cat resisted the urge to roll her eyes, this man reminded her of many older family members and she could hardly resist how happy he was to bake. “Yer a good girl Cat. She’s a good girl ain’t she? This one now she don’t look like much but ain’t she the finest smith ye e’er seen?”

Cat decided that was enough praise and left her companions long enough to take Mr. Horace’s arm, laughing silently as he jauntily made his way back to the door of the bakery with her. He whispered something to her at the door and Cat’s face went from jovial to worried in an instant. So he hadn’t been just causing them a delay. He’d meant to warn her.

As Cat hurried back to Ava and Aodh she ducked her head and passed the bag to Ava, hoping to keep her hands free. “We need to hurry. And maybe just...don’t say anything when we get there.”

As they approached the smithy, there was no mistaking the Noble Galdor woman who stood, arms folded, waiting on Cat to arrive. As soon as she saw her she begin storming forward.

“Where were you? You have less than 5 days to finish this piece and you’re off with these...what are these?” She sneered as she gestured toward Ava and Aodh.

Cat stood to her full height, signing. “I assure you that everything I do is to the benefit of finishing your sword. If you would like it done faster, perhaps you should consider stopping by less often to check my progress.”

She was rewarded for her bravery when the Galdor slapped her across her face, hard enough to turn her head. “Do you think me a child to admonish me? You have been given a commission because my husband thinks you are talented and had a good rapport with Mr. Raynarus. I will check in as often as I feel necessary, for I do not share my husband’s confidence.”

Cat’s face was red, more so with embarrassment than pain and she did not dare look at her companions. Those paying attention would also be aware of the two Seventen patrolling Cat’s forge. Cat sighed, signing. “I believe the effect will be more striking if you wait to see the finished product.”

“You know what we’ve talked about. It has to be perfect...or else. I’m leaving one of my guards with you. He’ll protect you a fair bit better than...where did you get them?”

Cat sighed again and signed, “There’s safety in numbers. We humans being as...soft...as we are.”

The woman wrinkled her nose at Aodh. “Humans indeed. I don’t have time for it, however, and neither do you. So get to work, I’ll be back, don’t try anything stupid.”

As she walked away Cat threw her hands in the air. What could that possibly mean? What sort of stupid thing did the woman think she would try? She told herself to think of the profit. So many Concords, enough to have anything she needed. The woman disappeared down the street and Cat could finally turn to Ava and Aodh. “Welcome to the Black Cat Smithy.” She signed.

[Aodh Elzo]

The 10th of Yaris, 2719. Midday

At Ava's suggestion he accompany her and Cat to her smithy was happy to oblige. He did briefly think of his ankle but dismissed the thought as selfish, that and he'd spent too much time sat around in none but his own company.

"Well if you an' Miss Cat would like the company then I'd be happy to, as a craftsman myself I'm interested in other trades an' the like."

It was true, while what he did was a ways different from the level of skill and training to be a blacksmith, he was curious to see the inside of a forge.

Ava smoothly translated what Cat was saying and he listened with a smile.
Aye, a pleasant afternoon to spend strolling with fine company, he thought to himself.

At her introducing him as finest violinist the city had to off to the man Horace, it was all he could do not to blush as red a fresh tomato. It was an exaggeration on her as Aodh knew he was only a musician of middling skill, but it was a lovely compliment for all that.

When they arrived at the forge and he saw the jent chip, with a face on her shat in her finest hat box, his guard went up and he made sure his humble facade was in place. As the galdor heaped scorn on Cat and Ava and himself Aodh's heart hammered. When she struck Cat across the face, Firebrand let out an echoing bellow of furious rage behind Aodh's flat cold eyes.
His right hand was white knuckled where it gripped the handle of his violin case, his left hand moved towards the pocket of his waistcoat where his brass knuckles sat. His blood sang in his head and he could almost feel the brass knuckles vibrate in his pocket. A fierce battle raged within him, all he wanted was to turn this galdor’s smug face in to so much bloody meat. However, what stayed his hand wasn't the Seventen patrol, or concern for himself, it was worry for Ava and Cat. So he let out his breath slowly, kept his eyes at the ground and waited till she finally left. As he watched her go that old wolf's grin came to his face.

He would have the jent's name and where she lived, and one night sometime down the line he reckoned there might be an unfortunate fire perhaps.

She did not know it, but that day she had caught the attention of Firebrand and there would be a reckoning.

The grin faded as quickly as it had come, he took a cigarette from behind his ear, and lit it shaking his head.

"Clockin'jent, it ain't right they feel they can treat good folk like that."

He pushed the black thoughts from his mind and looked at the front of the Black Cat Smithy and smiled.

"Tis a fine look establishment Miss Cat."

[Ava Weaver]

Midday, 10th Yaris, 2719
Kingsway Market, Uptown

Ava would not have said she translated well; it wasn’t terribly difficult to understand what Cat was saying with her hands, but she was startled by how hard it was to put it into words herself. She was terribly conscious of word choice; she wanted to translate exactly what Cat was saying, so that Aodh could understand it as she did, but she did not know every word. And, too, so much of what was said was in the little subtleties, the way Cat’s hands paused for a moment here or there, hesitated before the word known. It felt wrong to pause in her speech, because Ava couldn’t know how long Cat would have paused, and there was no way that Ava could see to put it into words.

In the end, Ava did her best to wait for each thought and repeat it back to Aodh; once or twice she smiled gently at Cat, as if to ask for her forbearance, and she would correct herself if need be. Once, on the word ‘patronized,’ she signed it back to Cat with a little questioning gesture, and waited for Cat to spell it out for her, before she translated the sentence in full.

The effort was oddly draining, but she did not let the faintest trace of it show on her face, nor any of the frustration that she felt. It was well worth the effort to let Cat and Aodh communicate; Ava did not mind lending Cat her voice for a little while. She only wished she could do it more gracefully; she only wished she could be sure that she was saying things how Cat would have said them.

But neither, Ava decided, would she ask Cat directly, at least not in front of Aodh. It felt somehow rude to call too much attention to herself in the process of - translating? Was that the word for it? It shouldn’t be - she knew it was, but it shouldn’t be - Ava as told by Cat. She could, she thought, have done more to mimic Cat; she could have taken on the other woman’s posture, her mannerisms, but that, too, felt wrong - and Ava suspected it might be unnerving, for both her and Aodh. It was, as well, a little too revealing to be done in public.

She would, Ava decided, add it to a little list of things to ask Cat, if ever they had the chance - if ever it felt right.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Horace,” Ava gave up a full word for word translation with Cat’s quick speech to the baker, smiling, shaking his hand. But when Aodh looked to her, she would give him some of what Cat had said; she might have trusted he had understood enough from Horace’s side of the conversation, from the exchanges and gestures, but she had wanted to tell him just how Cat had introduced him, and they were both rewarded by the look of mingled pleasure and embarrassment on his face.

Ava took the bag from Cat without hesitation, carefully juggling it and the basket still crooked on her elbow. “She says to keep quiet when we get there,” Ava said softly to Aodh, her lips pressing gently together. She didn’t like the sound of that.

Nor, soon after, did she like the reality of it. It had been a pleasant interlude, this, two humans and a wick pretending they had as much right to Vienda as anyway. And yet, as they always did, it had come to an end.

At the sight of the galdor woman, Ava let her posture change; she lost some of the proper upright stiffness of her carriage, not quite slumping, but no longer so precisely graceful. She lowered her eyes, and held the basket and bag in front of herself like a shield. She did not dare to look at Aodh, but out of the corner of her eye she could see his hands tight on his case, the whitening of his knuckles.

Ava flinched when the sound of the woman’s slap rang through the air. She let her shoulders hunch up a little more; she let a little more of her fear show on her face. To look undaunted would not help Cat, not now. She had not dared to translate, not so much as a word; she did as Cat had asked, and stayed utterly silent.

Only once the galdor was gone - in a moment when the Seventen were looking away, and when Cat herself was distracted - only then did Ava glance sideways at Aodh and raise her eyebrow, challenging - demanding. And then the expression was gone, and she was pressing her lips together, concerned.

“Are you all right?” Ava asked, softly. She shifted the basket and the rolls, and took a half step forward towards Cat. She stifled the urge to reach for the smith’s hands, but instead she brushed her lightly on the arm, concern written across her face, She placed herself, carefully and deliberately, between Cat’s hands and the Seventen, without making it look like anything but the most natural of movements.