(no subject)

[inthetapestry]

It was quiet, in the Temple, but not like this. That was a quiet of reverence, of hushed tones and quiet steps, the quiet of a large building full of people making an effort to be quiet. This is a quiet of stillness, of soft breeze and water and birds.

It's good, she thinks, to be out of the city today. Away from the hundreds of questions, of decisions, of details, of things. She needs the stillness. The time to adjust to the new way of thinking. Or at least to begin to adjust. Everything is changing. Some things are trivial, like the fact that it's still surprising to look down to her hands and see that the her sleeves are blue or green. Others are very serious, as it's even more surprising to wake up in the middle of the night and realize that Paul is there, is sleeping beside her, is staying.

The city is not a good place for reflection. This cottage is.

Jaelle stands in the doorway, her head against the frame, and watches the sunlight on the water, eyes half-closed against the brightness.

Comments

[pwyll_twiceborn]

"I don't regret my choice," Paul says, steadily, "any more than I did yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that.

"I can get new things."

[first_of_dana]

She turns, finally, to face him, still standing in the doorway, but facing into the cottage now.

"I'm more concerned with whether you'll regret it tomorrow, or the day after that, or after that, than with whether or not you regretted it yesterday.

"If you're going to leave . . ." She trails off, unwilling or unable to finish the thought.

[pwyll_twiceborn]

"Jaelle."

He takes a step forward and takes her hand; grips it with a certain fierceness, a little too hard.

(It's always been this way with them.)

"I am not going to leave. I've given you my word; can't you trust it?"

[first_of_dana]

Her smile is faint, but there's no wryness to it.

"I'm trying to," she says. "I am. But it's a lot to give up, Paul."

[pwyll_twiceborn]

"For both of us. I know."

He wouldn't ask her to give up what she has if he weren't giving up just as much. With all their old struggles for dominance, he knows that any such inequality would lead to disaster.

[first_of_dana]

She can't quite see it that way. Her life, the one she lived before he came, is over and gone, her successor chosen, her work done. And that has nothing, any of it, to do with the man standing before her.

But she also can't quite see any point or profit in trying to explain that, so she simply raises her free hand to his cheek, and nods.

[pwyll_twiceborn]

"I don't expect only roses," Paul says, after a moment, looking down at her; and then, unexpectedly, smiles.

"Or maybe it will be, after all - we're both prickly enough to supply the thorns."

[first_of_dana]

She smiles back, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Thorns I can certainly promise you, love. But I hope there will be some roses, too."

[pwyll_twiceborn]

Paul instantly promises himself that when they move into the cottage for good, there will be a vase of roses waiting on the table.

"I think that can be arranged."

[first_of_dana]

"Yes," she says. "I suspect we'll manage.

"What needs to be done here?" Brisk and business-like, for the moment.

[pwyll_twiceborn]

"I'd like to move the beds in the other room," Paul says, "if you wouldn't mind helping me with that."

That had been Finn and Dari's room - but Finn and Darien are both elsewhere, now.

[first_of_dana]

"If you like," she says. Then adds, "Finn's room. And Darien's.

"There are a lot of memories in this place, aren't there?"

[pwyll_twiceborn]

Paul nods, a little slowly.

"A surprising number, for such a short time."

How long had Vae lived here with her sons? A few months - half a year?

Most of Darien's life, short as it was.

[first_of_dana]

"And the Seer, before them.

"And now . . . more to come, I suppose.

"Where did you want to move them?"

[pwyll_twiceborn]

"I guess it's a good idea to have a guest bed, but -"

Paul frowns at the door, thinking. As far as he knows, Fionavar doesn't really have moving vans. Which is kind of a pity.

"Is there a way to get one back to the city? And - I don't know, sell it?"

[first_of_dana]

You know, Paul, people moved furniture before the advent of the internal combustion engine. It's what horses with carts are for.

Jaelle blinks at him, and then she begins to laugh.

[pwyll_twiceborn]

Well, Paul has not had much time to get acquainted with the city's horse-and-cart dealerships!

He looks back at her, and says, trying not to sound affronted, "What?"

[first_of_dana]

He only sounds a little afronted.

"Well," she says, "I realize that we're both of us casting about for exactly what we'll do now, with the war over and Leila in white, but I had not thought to go into dealing second hand furniture."

[pwyll_twiceborn]

Paul stares at her a moment -

(Jaelle . . . did you just make a joke?)

- and suddenly breaks into a smile, and then an abrupt laugh of his own.

"Well - it's a start."

[first_of_dana]

Jaelle looks thoughtful.

"We should ask Aileron if he intends to redecorate. I'm sure he'd give us a fair price. Then again, I'm not sure he especially likes either of us, so perhaps not."

[pwyll_twiceborn]

"He does not," Paul agrees, "but in the future, he may need us, all the same - so it seems likely that he'll give us a fair price regardless."

[first_of_dana]

"A very valid point," she says.

"I suppose there's also the cellar. If we wanted to store it. The bed, not furniture from the palace."

They might need it someday.

[pwyll_twiceborn]

They might.

And that's a thought so wonderful and absolutely terrifying at once that Paul immediately banishes it - they've got enough to think about at the moment.

Instead, he thinks about the cellar - more memories, there, though blessedly not his own. Only what he's heard from Kim, the story of a boy who wore a circlet and saw its light go out when it touched his brow.

"Yeah - that sounds like a good idea," he says, aloud. "We can put a lot of what we won't use down there."

[first_of_dana]

That is most definitely something to think about another day.

Jaelle rests her head on his shoulder, closes her eyes.

"It's strange. This is not anything I ever thought to do," she says. "Set up housekeeping. Store furniture. Have a cellar."

[pwyll_twiceborn]

Paul slips his arm around her waist.

"I thought to do it once," he says, aloud, as much to himself as to Jaelle.

"A long time ago, it feels like. Not like this."