Woven Vexations

[Nymeria Fyrechild]

Painted Ladies - Vienda

10/03/2719 ~ Late afternoon

The woman’s everlasting smile faltered for a single moment when she heard Nymeria’s growl and made Nymeria’s lips knit closely together. The flickering smile had almost been a warning, a plead not to say anything more. Therefore, she didn’t. She stood still and watched her work her way through the wool with her hands.

”Vermillion”

His loud voice was most certainly not a request but an order, and Nymeria stood without turning towards him. She knew what kind of emotions were painted on her face right now, and after, what she had thought to be, that warning, she didn’t want to risk anything. It had reminded her that her temper would not only cause problems for her. It would cost the woman greatly too.

The woman darted to him with an apologetic smile on her face directed in Nymeria’s direction. She followed her with her eyes, until they finally landed at the galdor once again. This time in a cold, but expressionless manner. She looked at him, noticed how he’s never look at the shopkeeper’s kind face. The way he seemed to always be eating something sour. She wanted him to choke.

The shopkeeper kept up her polite act, probably keeping herself more in check than Nymeria ever had. Now she knew. She knew that this was the woman’s way of surviving. And she couldn’t blame her. What hadn’t she, herself, done to stay alive? But then the galdor barked out a comment about the store being dirty, almost as if it wasn’t him dragging dirt around. The anger at the galdor made her heart pump, and she grabbed hold of the counter to keep herself steady. Just as she turned her face away, turned to look at wool, she heard the shopkeeper apologise. Her breath getting stuck in her throat, her teeth in her lip. But she said nothing. She was here for wool, not getting neither herself nor others murdered or imprisoned.

The shopkeeper made her way over to the counter, just as the galdors voice once again cracked the silence in the shop. “You call this vermillion silk?”. She grabbed ther counter with the other hand. "I could find better on Hollow Street. The color is the worst I've seen.". The woman apologised, again, and Nymeria almost snapped for her breath. She knew she had a problem with her temper, but this woman was otherworldly. Not once had she let the ethereal act slip. Not once had she batted an eyelash. Was she brave? Was she clever? Was she scared?

Nymeria turned to look at her, never letting her vision revisit the galdor. She knew her temper would get the best of her if she’d let it. She heard the sound first, and then she saw the slight jerk of the woman. The first noticeable slip of her pretence. She didn’t have to look at him when he discarded the bolt of fabric on the floor. She didn’t even have to guess. Her fingertips turned white with the pressure from her anger, and her body were shaking ever so slightly. Not enough for the galdor to notice, but enough that you would be able to feel it if you grabbed her.

[Ava Weaver]

Late Afternoon, 10 Loshis, 2719
Woven Delights, Painted Ladies

"Ofcourse, sir,” Ava bowed her head politely, gaze lowering to the bolt of silk on the muddy floor. She crossed the room, slowly, and knelt down at the man’s feet, picking up the fabric. He didn’t move an inch, standing over her, forcing Ava to go carefully around him to avoid touching him. The heat in the air was stronger the closer she got to him, but Ava didn’t let any fear or worry show on her face.

Once she had picked up the now dirtied silk, Ava rose and carried it carefully back to the counter, setting it down. She looked down at the young woman’s hands as she did so; they were gripping the counter so hard they were strained white and shaking.

“My apologies for the inconvenience,” Ava said, turning back to the galdor, soft smile still firmly in place. “I am afraid the satin is in the back room. It will take me a few moments to find it, if I might ask you to wait?”

The galdor shook his head, making a tsk noise with his tongue, and turned back to the walls. “Fine,” he said, as if granting an enormous concession, not even looking at the two young human women any longer.

“Thank you, sir,” Ava reached out and grasped the young woman’s wrist, quite firmly. Her tone never wavered, as rich a smile in it as ever, but her eyes were hard and flat now, and she gestured with her head towards the back room. When she spoke, her words was as light and friendly as before. “Dear, would you come help me look? The store room is such a mess, I would appreciate it ever so much.”

Ava wouldn’t take no for an answer, and she didn’t let go of the young woman’s wrist either. She wasn’t terribly strong – in fact, she wasn’t strong at all – but she had a good hold on the young woman, and she would have to be quite forceful to get out of the grasp. If she let her, Ava would take the young woman with her into the back room of the shop, through a small door just behind the counter.

The back room was beautifully decorated, with soft fabrics hung from the wall, comfortable couches adorned with pillows. Ava let the young woman go once the door had closed behind them.

“You may stay here until you can control yourself,” Ava said, gently, voice soft enough not to be audible in the main shop. She didn’t look at the young woman, holding her own opposite arms across her front. For a moment her hands squeezed the sheer sleeves, pressing the soft green fabric against her arms. Then Ava let go, and turned back to the young woman, and smiled again. “There’s tea, if you like,” she gestured to a kettle sitting on a tray across the room with two small porcelain cups. “It’s cold, and perhaps oversteeped, but if you can stand it you’re welcome to it.”

Ava took a deep breath, waiting another moment at the door, then stepped back through.

“I’m very sorry, sir,” The young woman would be able to hear Ava’s voice through the door, which hadn't quite closed entirely. “It was my mistake – I only just remembered that I did put the vermillion satin out,” Ava crossed in front of the desk, and took the bolt from the shelf, offering it to the man with a smile. “If you do like it, I would be glad to offer you a discounted rate, for the inconvenience.” Ava knew what she had to do, and she did it without qualm or hesitation, hands folded in front of her.

The galdor made a breathing sort of ‘hmph’ noise and took the fabric from Ava. Again, he crossed the shop to the window, tugging at the fabric and peering at it in the light. He shook his head slowly. “It’s subpar,” he pronounced, looking down at the cloth, then up at Ava. “But, I suppose it might suffice. What was the price?”

Ava named it, then added a discount.

The galdor acted as if she had threatened to rob him; in the end, however, he left with a length of satin, and Ava had more coins than she had before, and less of a loss than she had feared. She watched him go, the bell tinkling his good-bye, still smiling behind the counter. The expression lasted until the door closed, then slowly faded. Ava leaned forward over the counter, elbows resting on it, and buried her face in her hands for a moment, taking a deep breath.

That was all she needed. Carefully, Ava put the coins away, closing the drawer, and turned and went back to the back room, looking at the young woman she’d left there.

[Nymeria Fyrechild]

Painted Ladies - Vienda

10/03/2719 ~ Late afternoon

She had entered a state of pure concentration, in an effort not to explode, and had not noticed the woman’s movements until she had grabbed her wrist tightly. The hard grip didn’t match up with her request, so no protest left Nymeria’s lips as she was dragged along the woman into the back room of the store. It wasn’t about the strength of the woman’s grip, because she wasn’t really that strong. But in this moment Nymeria was happy to be dragged as far away from that galdor as possible.
And then there was the flat and hard look in her eyes. A glare that Nymeria didn’t dare oppose to. A glare that could make even the proudest lion lay down on his stomach.

Stepping inside the backroom, Nymeria took only a short glance to see that this room too, was beautiful. Decorated for other purposes, rather than just the normal customer, fabrics were draped over the wall in various colours. It even had couches with pillows on them.
The woman had let go of her wrist but stood with her back to her still. Nymeria already felt like a child scorned, and as the woman spoke, she almost winced. The woman had squeezed her arms ever so slightly, and had the woman not been as gentle as she were, Nymeria wouldn’t have thought that to be a mannerism of anger. But the woman was as gentle as a summer breeze, and Nymeria knew that she had been out of line.

As she turned towards her once again, she had let go of her arms, and even the slightest hint of anger had disappeared like morning dew under the sunshine. “There’s tea, if you like,”. She followed the gesture of the shopkeeper’s hand, still having not said a word. The woman was the perfect shopkeeper. Never really letting her anger show. In full control of herself, even managing to stay kind and warm even though she might have wanted to kick Nymeria out on the street more than she had ever wanted anything else. Nymeria envied her. And she promised herself, that she would do better. That she would learn to control her anger in the same way. To never let her feelings make her weak, like they did right now. But make her strong and in control like the woman before her.

The woman left her standing, Nymeria not even being able to mutter a thank you, from biting her lip so hard. As the door clicked shut behind the shopkeeper, Nymeria took a deep breath. She looked down at her palms only to see marks that her nails had left, slowly reddening with blood. She hadn’t realized that her hands had been clenched too. But they had, and the marks started stinging as a reminder of what had just happened. An embarrassing reminder that she had let her inner fire get the best of her. They wouldn’t want her in the resistance if she let her anger get the best of her. They wouldn’t want her anywhere near them. Her anger had to be her drive, not the thing that dragged her down.

She took a deep breath again, forcing her body to relax. To stop being as tense as a bow being overdrawn. There were no targets to shoot at. Only her own arm for the string to snap at. She let her tongue run over her lower lip only to get the sharp taste of metal in her mouth. She cursed at herself and momentarily sucked on her lip to make sure that the marks wouldn’t be revealed by the red. She then rolled her head, making her neck crack, before she in gliding strides moved over to the wall with the fabrics. She didn’t touch them, afraid that she might stain them, but she imagine that they would be soft to the touch.

When the door clicked open behind her she lightly clasped her hands together in front of her abdomen in a ladylike manner, like she had been taught to when she was younger. She then turned around, and her gaze appearing like ashes of her own fiery hair.
”I am sorry. That wasn’t very professional and thought through of me. I let my anger get the best of me, in a way that gambled with the lives of us both,” she paused, a slight movement of the corner of her mouth forming her lips into an apologetic smile, ”Thank you for bringing me here, I owe you deeply. I will pay back the discount that you gave, if not already today, as soon as I can”. She had no clue how much money that would be, but she pleaded to the gods, that she would be able to pay it back already today.

She parted her lips, almost letting her ambition of bettering her own temper run away with her. But she let them meet again, knowing that this was not the time to ask the woman if she would teach her how to control her temper. Knowing that the woman most likely just wanted her gone. Forever.

[Ava Weaver]

Late Afternoon, 10 Loshis, 2719
Woven Delights, Painted Ladies

Intruth, Ava hadn’t been sure that the young woman would go along with her. She doubted she had the strength to force anyone to move, not physically, although perhaps will was a different matter. A verbal complaint might have been nearly as dangerous; Ava couldn’t know how the galdor would respond to any hint of things not being as they seemed. But the young woman was sensible enough to come, and quietly. She didn’t say a word in the back room, standing there biting her lip painfully hard.

Ava left her behind and went to salvage what she could.

When she returned, it was to a much calmer figure than the one she’d left. Ava took her in, noticing what looked like smears of dark blood on her hands. She smiled at her, out of a feeling of kindness as much as anything. Ava kept quiet through the young woman’s apology, and her insistence on repaying the discount on the satin. Ava’s lips quirked slightly, then smoothed again. For a moment, she thought the young woman had more to say, but she fell silent, still standing with bloodied hands next to the fabric-covered walls.

Ava considered, for a moment, what to say. The apology was good; better still that the young woman did understand why what she had nearly done was so dangerous, and for them both. It was hard for Ava to imagine anyone couldn’t understand that, but then she remembered her days in Old Rose Harbor, remembered the attitudes some humans had there, and she knew there were those for whom utter deference to galdori did not come so easily. Such humans didn’t tend to survive long in Vienda, whether because of the Seventeen, or because they couldn’t take it any longer. Life on the fields was harder in many ways, but – for some – easier too.

“You are welcome,” Ava said, simply. She didn’t feel the need to berate the young woman, to curse or threaten her; it didn’t seem very helpful to speak sharply to her, or stress how important it was to control oneself, as a human in a galdor’s world. Neither would Ava confirm her own anger; one never knew who they were speaking with. It was perhaps too late already; she had been a little more indiscreet than she might have liked, but she couldn’t think how to have handled the situation better. All the same, whatever the young woman surmised would be only that, a surmise, unless Ava confirmed it.

“That is generous of you to offer,” Ava bowed her head slightly, accepting the offer to repay her. “I would be grateful.” She paused, thinking it over, and named a sum – not the full amount she might have hoped to sell the satin at, but enough that she would at least break even. It would still feel like a good amount of money to Nymeria, nearly half as much as the wool she had agreed to buy, the half-cut wool that was still sitting on the counter outside.

“That is what it would cost,” Ava smiled at her, softly. Perhaps it was best if this lesson did cost the young woman something; at least, if she couldn’t pay, her pride would feel the sting. Now that the heated moment had passed, Ava let the last of her own anger smooth away, the anger she’d felt both at the young woman before her and the galdor outside. What was left was a faint feeling of relief that things had not gone worse, and a sort of compassionate pity for the burning young woman in front of her.

Ava gestured to one of the comfortable looking couches in the back room. “You can sit, if you’d like,” she offered, smiling still. “Just give me a moment, please.” Ava stepped back into the main shop and returned with what looked like a folded linen handkerchief. “For your hands,” she said, simply, crossing to stand in front of the young woman and offering it, just holding it out until she took it. “Let me know if you would like some water as well.”

Ava sat herself on the other couch; if, by then, the young woman still hadn't taken her up on the offer of a seat, Ava would repeat it, gesturing gracefully at the couch once more.

“Where are you from, my dear? Have you been in Vienda long?” Between the young woman’s lovely, if unusual, dress and the tenseness of her manners, Ava couldn’t imagine she had spent long in the city. She didn’t have the look of the Dives about her, and she didn’t have the manners of Uptown, although now, with the heat gone from her eyes, she did have a pleasant, ladylike way of standing.

Ava didn’t mind talking to her a little longer; she was curious about the young woman, and from the back room she could easily hear the bell if someone else entered the store. There would be no surprises; she couldn’t afford them.