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k_a_webbRead the first part of this story (LJ link).
One final time murmurs went around the group. Genevieve looked at everyone, grateful that she hadn't forgotten the words or done something equally stupid, and breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn't help wondering what her father might be doing, whether he had handfasted again since they had left, and if she had any half siblings. They would be full Dorma, because he would have checked to make sure that his new wife's bloodline was pure, so he didn't get a surprise the way he had with Delyth. As she made her way over to her family she pushed all thoughts about her father out of her head.
“You did wonderfully, darling,” Delyth said, wrapping an arm around Genevieve. “I have no idea what you were so worried about.”
Genevieve smiled. “Thank you, Mother.”
“Do you want some soup?”
“Mother...”
“You didn't have anything to eat this morning.”
They looked at each other and Genevieve knew that she wasn't going to be able to say no. “I'm really not that hungry, but if you insist I'll have some soup.”
Sighing, Genevieve watched Delyth walked away before turning to look at her sister. Róisín smiled at her. “You know what she's like, Gen.”
“It's just...” Genevieve shook her head. “I'm twenty, a priestess of Hecate, and she still treats me like a little girl sometimes.”
“She still treats me like a little girl too and I'm the mother of three children.”
“Are you glad you're living here, Róisín?” Genevieve asked, looking at Róisín's oldest daughter, who very much took after her Uisdro father.
Róisín ran a hand through her hair. “I don't know how to answer that question.” She breathed out and it was possible to see her breath because it was a cold day. “When Father found out that Mother was mixed blood, which was something Mother didn't know herself, we had two options. Staying would have meant that we would have ended up dead, so I am grateful that I'm here, I'm alive, I have a wonderful husband and three beautiful children. At the same time I do wonder what my life would have been like if Father had never found out about Mother. I had a life that I loved and coming here meant I had to start again in a place that...” She looked around at some of the stone buildings. “It just wasn't home, but now I feel like this is home. It's not the same as our birth village, and I do miss the trees surrounding us, but that doesn't matter any longer.”
Genevieve nodded. “Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if Father never found out about Mother. I don't feel like I've ever been Dorma as such, because I've grown up surrounded by a mix of different races.”
“That's not a bad thing, Gen. Father was a Dorma supremacist and he deeply believed that our race is better than the other two, so that was how both Báirbre and I grew up. Coming here gave us a chance to see that he might not be right and I was just young enough to change my opinions. Báirbre, however, seems to have taken Father's teachings to heart.”
Genevieve looked over at her oldest sister. “Do you think she wants to go home?”
Róisín nodded. “She just can't, because she knows Father would never accept her back. There's nothing she can do about being mixed blood.” Genevieve could see the worry in Róisín's eyes. “It's possible that having her here, and other mixed bloods who have no choice but to come her if they want to stay alive, may not be good for North Square.”
“I'm not sure that there's anything we can do to change that.” Genevieve sighed and thought about the others who seemed to pull away from the larger group to gather in their races. “Maybe we should give them a quarter and just leave them to it.” She blinked and looked at Róisín. “Why are you telling me?”
“Gen, you're the only priestess of Hecate and North Square is the home of the sect of Hecate. That makes you the leader of our group, even if you don't necessarily want to be, which is why people do turn to you.”
“I'm too young.”
Róisín smiled. “Age doesn't matter. Not in this sort of situation. What matters is your position and you are our priestess of Hecate.”
“Spyro is a priest too.”
“Haven't you noticed that people also talk to him about their problems? People trust priests and priestesses, without stopping to think that they might not be trustworthy people. Luckily both you and Spyro are, which is why you were both truly chosen by deities of Thear, instead of being like those that the races follow who are just pretending to be connected with deities.”
“I'm not entirely sure that I'm ready for people to come to me with their problems or the town's problems.”
“Soup, Genevieve,” Delyth said from behind Genevieve, making her jump.
“Thank you, Mother,” Genevieve replied, turning to take the mug from her mother and smiling. “Do you agree with Róisín?”
As Delyth passed Genevieve the mug they looked at each other. “Róisín and I share several opinions, but I'm not sure which one you're asking about.”
“Am I really seen as trustworthy and someone to come to with problems, because I am a priestess of Hecate?”
“Yes, darling, you are, but it isn't just because you're a priestess of Hecate. You listen to people and you take their opinions seriously, while also giving your own opinions.” Delyth smiled. “Sometimes I think you were born to be a priestess, because you have always been wise. When I asked you what we should do when your father found out about my heritage do you rememember what you said?”
© K A Jones 2011
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
This entry was originally posted at http://kajones-writing.dreamwidth.org/42127.html. It currently has
comments.
One final time murmurs went around the group. Genevieve looked at everyone, grateful that she hadn't forgotten the words or done something equally stupid, and breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn't help wondering what her father might be doing, whether he had handfasted again since they had left, and if she had any half siblings. They would be full Dorma, because he would have checked to make sure that his new wife's bloodline was pure, so he didn't get a surprise the way he had with Delyth. As she made her way over to her family she pushed all thoughts about her father out of her head.
“You did wonderfully, darling,” Delyth said, wrapping an arm around Genevieve. “I have no idea what you were so worried about.”
Genevieve smiled. “Thank you, Mother.”
“Do you want some soup?”
“Mother...”
“You didn't have anything to eat this morning.”
They looked at each other and Genevieve knew that she wasn't going to be able to say no. “I'm really not that hungry, but if you insist I'll have some soup.”
Sighing, Genevieve watched Delyth walked away before turning to look at her sister. Róisín smiled at her. “You know what she's like, Gen.”
“It's just...” Genevieve shook her head. “I'm twenty, a priestess of Hecate, and she still treats me like a little girl sometimes.”
“She still treats me like a little girl too and I'm the mother of three children.”
“Are you glad you're living here, Róisín?” Genevieve asked, looking at Róisín's oldest daughter, who very much took after her Uisdro father.
Róisín ran a hand through her hair. “I don't know how to answer that question.” She breathed out and it was possible to see her breath because it was a cold day. “When Father found out that Mother was mixed blood, which was something Mother didn't know herself, we had two options. Staying would have meant that we would have ended up dead, so I am grateful that I'm here, I'm alive, I have a wonderful husband and three beautiful children. At the same time I do wonder what my life would have been like if Father had never found out about Mother. I had a life that I loved and coming here meant I had to start again in a place that...” She looked around at some of the stone buildings. “It just wasn't home, but now I feel like this is home. It's not the same as our birth village, and I do miss the trees surrounding us, but that doesn't matter any longer.”
Genevieve nodded. “Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if Father never found out about Mother. I don't feel like I've ever been Dorma as such, because I've grown up surrounded by a mix of different races.”
“That's not a bad thing, Gen. Father was a Dorma supremacist and he deeply believed that our race is better than the other two, so that was how both Báirbre and I grew up. Coming here gave us a chance to see that he might not be right and I was just young enough to change my opinions. Báirbre, however, seems to have taken Father's teachings to heart.”
Genevieve looked over at her oldest sister. “Do you think she wants to go home?”
Róisín nodded. “She just can't, because she knows Father would never accept her back. There's nothing she can do about being mixed blood.” Genevieve could see the worry in Róisín's eyes. “It's possible that having her here, and other mixed bloods who have no choice but to come her if they want to stay alive, may not be good for North Square.”
“I'm not sure that there's anything we can do to change that.” Genevieve sighed and thought about the others who seemed to pull away from the larger group to gather in their races. “Maybe we should give them a quarter and just leave them to it.” She blinked and looked at Róisín. “Why are you telling me?”
“Gen, you're the only priestess of Hecate and North Square is the home of the sect of Hecate. That makes you the leader of our group, even if you don't necessarily want to be, which is why people do turn to you.”
“I'm too young.”
Róisín smiled. “Age doesn't matter. Not in this sort of situation. What matters is your position and you are our priestess of Hecate.”
“Spyro is a priest too.”
“Haven't you noticed that people also talk to him about their problems? People trust priests and priestesses, without stopping to think that they might not be trustworthy people. Luckily both you and Spyro are, which is why you were both truly chosen by deities of Thear, instead of being like those that the races follow who are just pretending to be connected with deities.”
“I'm not entirely sure that I'm ready for people to come to me with their problems or the town's problems.”
“Soup, Genevieve,” Delyth said from behind Genevieve, making her jump.
“Thank you, Mother,” Genevieve replied, turning to take the mug from her mother and smiling. “Do you agree with Róisín?”
As Delyth passed Genevieve the mug they looked at each other. “Róisín and I share several opinions, but I'm not sure which one you're asking about.”
“Am I really seen as trustworthy and someone to come to with problems, because I am a priestess of Hecate?”
“Yes, darling, you are, but it isn't just because you're a priestess of Hecate. You listen to people and you take their opinions seriously, while also giving your own opinions.” Delyth smiled. “Sometimes I think you were born to be a priestess, because you have always been wise. When I asked you what we should do when your father found out about my heritage do you rememember what you said?”
© K A Jones 2011
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
This entry was originally posted at http://kajones-writing.dreamwidth.org/42127.html. It currently has
