So...long time, no see? [Tal!]

[Rhindeer]

Niamh had slipped out of the inn as soon as Nexus had fallen into his trance, and she made a beeline out of the village and toward the Lumenari headquarters. She was tired from a day spent traveling and nervous about what she was about to do, but hesitation had no place here. Nexus would only be out for five hours, she had no idea when she'd get this chance again, and there was no way she wanted to explain any of this to him. He wouldn't get it. He'd get the wrong idea or he'd think she was insane. And hey, maybe she was.

He'd spent so much time hammering it into her head that her religion was a bunch of bunk, and she'd even begun to believe it. Just...not completely. She couldn't turn her back on her faith completely, nor could she turn her back on her people. It wasn't that easy, not when she'd spent eighteen years believing one thing and only seven months being shown a different truth. She couldn't just drop everything like that, everything and everyone she knew. She'd tried. She really had. She couldn't do it.

And so what if her correspondance with Speaker had shaken her a bit and dredged up questions and doubts she still had? Ugh. She just...really hoped Dimitri wasn't here, too. Speaker she could face. Dimitri...

It wasn't long before the Lumenari headquarters was looming in the distance. Niamh still knew the way, and she headed there without even having to think about it, though her feet began to drag a little the closer she got. She could see Lumenari out and about, and her nerves started to get to her. Crap...she hadn't heard from Speaker in a while. What if things had changed? Maybe they'd kill her on sight now. What if Dimitri was there and he'd meant everything he'd told her? He wasn't exactly known for listening to anyone else when his temper got the best of him, and after apparently having a family tragedy...well...erk. And could she really face her people after deserting like that? Not that she'd initially had a choice in the deserting, she'd been kidnapped, but...she'd chosen to stay away.

Part of her wanted to turn right back around and run. Just go straight back to the inn, go to sleep, and forget she'd ever gotten this crazy idea. Just go on with her life. But if she did, she'd always wonder, and she'd never really be able to face herself for being such a coward. A deserter. A sell-out.

Weak.

All the things she'd been trying so hard to prove she wasn't.

She took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders. Get it over with. The anticipation was always the worst part. Speaker had given his word, and she had no reason not to trust him.

It kind of stung when she finally reached the place and the Lumenari stationed outside simply acted as though she didn't exist. It was expected; it was typical since she'd deserted, but it was still a weird feeling, especially since she recognized a few faces. Niamh did her best to ignore it right back, to not let it get to her and keep her head up, but whereas before she'd felt fairly confident, now she could feel the shame creeping over her. She dropped her gaze to the ground and quickened her pace, and it was a relief when she finally reached the door to the establishment.

She knocked loudly and hoped she hadn't come at too late an hour. "Father? Ah, it's Niamh. Niamh Mera."

[Tally]

Speaks the Light was standing before a full length mirror when the knock sounded.  And there he remained, the ornaments in his hair chinging softly as he turned his head this way and that, studying the way the hair fell about his neck and face.  It was the pale gold of dawn light and very long, flowing down to just past his waist.  Hair such as his required much care, and styling it required a refined sense of elegance that he just plain didn't trust in anyone else.

So the Mera wench could just stand her little self outside until he was done.

He didn't have much left to adjust anyhow.  Just a few lose strands to catch up and smooth down.  When he had it all pinned in place and was certain it would not all tumble back down again, he stepped back and studied his work with pursed lips and a critical eye.  Not perfect yet.  From the small, ivory-topped table beside the mirror, he chose two more tasteful turquoise ornaments and placed them in his hair.  Simplicity was elegance and elegance was beautiful.  The decorations he adorned his hair with were few and carefully selected, never gaudy or overpowering.  They served to define his natural beauty, not overpower it.

Satisfied, he gave himself a last up-and-down in the mirror.  Hair, perfect.  Clothing, impeccable.  As was his habit, he wore casual priest's vestments, a robe of thin draped cloth.

"All right," he said.  "You may get the door now, Niiki."

What opened the door for Niamh was not Speaker—indeed, not even human.  It was a young drow, just in the midst of adolescence and fetching in his white tunic and wide-legged white pants, hair drawn back in a ponytail.  He smiled serenely but did not look up and dropped his upper body smoothly into a bow as he stood back, holding the door open for Niamh.

Speaker beamed, sighing in relief at sight of her.  "Daughter.  I am so pleased you came.  It is a joy to see you well."  He glided to the door to greet her, leaning forward to kiss her left cheek and placing a gentle hand upon her arm in an effort to put her at ease.  It couldn't have been easy making that walk among the Lumenari, but he was glad she did.

Very glad.

"Please, come in.  Be at home."

And home it was, or at least as close as he could make it.  It had taken him months to make this barbarian's hovel livable, but at last it was starting to look like a proper Solisi dwelling.  The colors had been lightened and brightened, the bulky furniture replaced with more delicate versions, and Solisi porcelain and rugs imported as embellishments.  He'd had a good chunk of the second-floor ceiling knocked out and replaced with a sky window.

The changes almost made this cursed job tolerable. Almost.

[Rhindeer]

Niamh had finally decided to knock again when the door swung open, and needless to say a drow was not what she had expected to greet her. She had to blink several times before she was able to register the sight, fist still hovering in the air before a door that was no longer there. Uhh...crap...had she come to the right place?

Then she heard Speaker's voice and she looked up and past the drow--and quickly lowered her hand, blushing faintly when she realized how foolish she probably looked. Niamh was quiet and tense as Speaker made his way over to her, even though he was beaming, and even though she averted her eyes she was able to manage a small, uncertain smile when he kissed her cheek and rested a hand on her arm. Some of the tension left her muscles as she released a breath she hadn't been aware of holding, but she still felt wound up like a spring and her heart was beating faster than it should.

"Thank you for letting me come, Father. It's really good to see you again," she said, leaning up to kiss his left cheek in return. No, it hadn't been easy, and seeing a Solisi that was still willing to even look at her was something in and of itself...even if she wasn't quite sure she could look another Solisi in the eye just yet. The shame was still in full bloom.

Nevertheless, she felt an unexpected urge to hug him right then and there, but she managed to resist it. She didn't want to push her limits and besides, he looked too nice. She hadn't even bathed yet that night and she felt gross for it, but she just hadn't had the luxury of time.

"Um...I like what you did with the place. It looks almost like Solis," Niamh said lamely for lack of anything better to say as she crossed over the threshold, looking about the room--mostly so she didn't have to look at him. She did finally steal another quick look at him, though, forcing herself to be more bold. "And you look nice as ever." Beautiful more like it, which made her feel incredibly underdressed and even more regretful of the skipped bath. Still, lame and awkward as it all was, her comments were genuine. This felt like the closest she'd been to home since joining the Lumenari, if way more fancy than what her own family could ever afford. She kept her hands in her pockets as a means of keeping herself small. She'd had a worst-case-scenario image play out in her head of her accidentally knocking some knick-knack over.

It'd be just her luck.

Even though his words were comforting, it was still difficult to let go. Niamh felt fidgety and wanted to just stay standing and move around, but she made herself take a seat, straight-backed, on the edge of a chair as though afraid of breaking that, too. She rested her hands lightly on the arms of the chair so she couldn't play with her hands like she knew she would if she didn't watch herself, and she flashed an awkward smile Speaker's way. This probably didn't look like a very convincing "be at home" pose, but it was the best she could manage right now.

"I really am sorry about all the trouble I've caused, by the way, and I know I've already said it, but I seriously can't express how grateful I am for this, because I know I don't deserve it," she heard herself abruptly blurt, surprising herself, before she bit down on her tongue. Eugh. It was the nerves talking. And the guilty conscience. And the severe dislike of awkward silences.

[Tally]

Upon Niamh entering, Niiki closed the door quietly and shuffled away to the kitchen for refreshments while Speaker remained near the door, watching Niamh's reactions and body language carefully.  He strolled further into the room, his gaze following her own as she looked about his home.

"Yes, the transformation is remarkable, isn't it?  Not everything is a genuine import, I'm afraid.  Too costly.  Most of it is just what I could find in La'marri.  But still, it's a far cry from what it used to be, all dark and closed up."  There were large windows now, and plenty of light, and the dark paneling had been replaced with alabaster.  

Her compliment on his appearance elicited a humble duck of his head and a smile.  "Ah, you are too kind to say so.  You look well, also."  

Actually he rather thought she looked like something a dog would drag in from a field.  Too bad.  She might have been pretty if she bothered to try.  The timid, mousy attitude didn't help.  Light, that was going to get on his last nerve.  Dimitri, Niamh, Vulcan...dross, all of them.  Fine, that was just fine.  They'd be thrown away eventually and he'd be through with this whole intolerable ordeal.

As Niamh sat down, Niiki returned with a silver tray, with fruit and two glasses of chilled water upon it.  He placed it upon the marble-topped end table beside Niamh's chair and stepped back, pausing in case they needed anything else.

"Very good, Niiki.  Niiki is a good drow," Speaker said, giving him a pat on the head.  Niiki just about glowed with happiness at the praise, biting his lip to keep from grinning when what he really wanted to do was clap his hands and jump up and down.  Decorum.  Remember decorum.  He should be graceful and refined.  That was very important here.  He bowed to Father and to Mistress Niamh before retreating out of sight to see to other duties.

"Isn't he something?"  Speaker selected a wedge of pineapple and arranged himself gracefully upon a large floor cushion before Niamh's chair, drawing one knee up around which he wrapped his pale arms.  "It's the latest trend in the capital, keeping drow as pets.  The old ones are hopeless of course, but get them when they're young and they can be tamed well enough.  He adds a touch of exoticism to the décor, don't you think?  Accents are so important to the aesthetic of a home."

He waved off her apology and her thanks both.  "Trouble yourself not with the past.  Breathes the Fire has already absolved you and convinced Dimitri's superiors to grant you asylum as a ward of the church."  Were circumstances not so unusual, she would have faced execution for deserting the military and possibly been denied Solisi funeral rites.  Her soul would have been lost in darkness for eternity, never to know light again.  He didn't say any of that aloud.  There was no need.  He was quite sure she knew all of that and was appropriately grateful.  All to the better if she felt indebted to them.  "Truthfully, I'm less interested in why you left than I am in why you decided to return.  I know why I invited you, and we'll get to that, but what made you accept the invitation?  You could have disappeared and never seen any of us again if that was your wish.  And yet here you are, and I can see that you are troubled.  What thoughts are pressing so on your mind, child?"

[Rhindeer]

"Things have really changed, haven't they?" Niamh murmered, watching the drow. An older one would have revolted her, but she had to admit that this young one was kind of cute. Man...it suddenly felt like she'd been away even longer than she had, and she felt a little homesick pang at the thought. She shoved it back, however, and looked back to Speaker. "He does...go well with the furnishings," she answered awkwardly, not quite sure what else to say. The drow trend was still too new to her and she hadn't quite accepted it yet.

His next words made her nearly wilt in relief, but she managed to keep her back straight and exhaled instead. She knew all too well what the alternative was. "Thank you," she said in a near whisper before she steadied her voice. "And thank Breathes the Fire for me, please? If I'm unable to do so myself. I'd like to do that, though, sometime. If it's at all possible." That was a load off her shoulders, and she was eternally grateful for that. She didn't really deserve it.

And then, it was straight to the heart of the matter. The difficult stuff she'd been dreading. Niamh was quiet a few moments after he asked the question, trying to organize all her jumbled thoughts and the doubts of over seven months into words. Brief words at that, because he only needed to know what was important, what wouldn't get her executed, and she didn't want to talk his ear off or bore him too much.

Of course, the moment she started talking her thoughts were all over the place yet again.

"I..." She paused, absently tracing designs in the glass's condensation. Light give her the strength to say it, because she knew she was going to feel both awful and relieved when she finally got it out into the open. "I came back because...because I miss it." She was staring at the water as she spoke, but realizing he might think she was lying she looked up and met his eyes directly, not hiding anything. "Solis. The Lumenari. Mother Sun. Everything. If you want to know the truth, I never left because I wanted to. I don't expect you to believe me because I know it sounds really lame, but I was kidnapped. Twice. By the same person. And then after everything that happened during all that, I didn't think I could go back..."

Niamh took a deep and quick sip of water, wetting her dry mouth. It was so weird. She hadn't thought too much about this all before--oh she had, a lot, but she tended to push the thoughts back out of fear every time they started--but she was starting to finally see things clearly. It felt like she was coming out of a haze, a haze she'd been living in for seven months at least. Pent up thoughts, pent up doubts, truths she'd been lying to herself about. She rubbed her right temple and steeled herself. She'd never be able to tell this to anyone else, but his status as priest made her immedietely trust him.

"Ah, it's complicated, but the person that took me tried to break me. He has a big problem with religions and...he tried to prove ours fake. I actually started to believe him. I did believe him. Stuff he said made sense and I was scared. I didn't think I'd ever get away. I felt distant from our Mother, I felt like I'd left Her and betrayed Her and that I was weak, I didn't feel like I deserved to come back and so I never tried to. I had my chance and I passed it up; I ran like a coward instead. It's a long and weird story but I became friends with, ah, the person that did all that...and...it's made things more complicated I guess. It doesn't make sense. It makes even less sense when I say it out loud..." she said, blinking.

All that time she'd just sort of accepted it and gone with it because it felt right. Spoken out loud it sounded bloody twisted and made no sense. She tried to make sense of it. "He proved not all that bad or anything. He apologized and..." It kept sounding worse, and she grew even more confused and frustrated. "We're friends." Still sounded bad. She decided not to mention that they'd kissed. Her stomach twisted itself into a knot, all the doubt that had been gradually accumilating along her journey here settling there like lead, and she started to wonder what the hell was wrong with her.

She sounded like a complete idiot. Taken, tortured, faith broken, and then becoming friends and almost lovers with her captor. In the heat of it all, it just...it just was. But now that she had distance and perspective, she didn't know what to think except that maybe she really was a moron.

"So...I just...kept away. But when I got your invitation, it made me start thinking again. It made some questions and doubts sorta come up, it made me realize how much I miss everything. Solis. Solisi. Mother Sun. I've been living among the heathens for a while, but...I don't know." Niamh trailed off, shoulders hunching and head lowering. "I don't know if I can do it, even though I think I've made myself believe I could. I don't know what I'm doing. I've sunk low, and I don't know how to stop or what's wrong with me. And I know I can't ask to go back--I don't expect to be accepted, and that's fine; it wouldn't be fair, anyway, and Breather's done so much already--but I don't know if I can do what I'm doing now, either...whatever that is. I guess I just...need help. Or maybe I've just gone crazy. I don't know."

Niamh had the distinct impression that she wasn't making a lick of sense, and her heart ached even as she said the words. She loved Nexus. She did. But now...she didn't know if she could or if it was right or even sane. She didn't know if she could exist without her people. And part of her was starting to doubt if it was even real or if she'd just fallen for him because of the stress of her kidnapping, as a sort of coping mechanism that had just never gone away. And Solis. The Solisi. Her home, her people, her Goddess. She still loved them, she still believed. She couldn't leave it, and the longer she was away the more deeply she felt it, a growing ache like a large part of her had been ripped away.

Her thoughts spun, and she swallowed hard and wiped at the corner of her right eye. Be strong. She wasn't doing anything wrong here. She was being honest, and only lies could truly hurt, right?

[Tally]

In the kitchen, Niiki busied himself with polishing some of the good silver and laying serving platters easily at hand in case the Father wished to serve a late dinner for Mistress Niamh.  To listen to the words spoken by his masters would be very bad.  One had to learn to hear without listening, to be alert for summons without intruding upon the privacy of conversations.  Niiki would not say he had mastered that art, for that would be boasting and he strove for humility as a drow ought, but...well, he was quite good at it.

In the parlor, Speaker was doing his damnedest to string Niamh along.  He nodded at all the right moments, made sympathetic noises when called for, gave her his focus so that she would feel her words mattered a great deal to him.  But Light, how long was this flighty tart going to prattle on?  It was a sign of Speaker's impeccable self control that he maintained the appearance of attentiveness and concern and avoided drumming his fingers upon his knee in impatience.  Truly it was taking inhuman serenity to endure her whining.  He wanted to slap her.  

He did not, of course.  Instead he laid his hand upon hers and leaned forward.  Most of what she had said didn't need addressing.  The point was more to let her get it all out rather than pick over her mistakes.  He would not, for instance, mention that barbarian she was whoring around with.  Not yet.  "Niamh, dear.  It is as I thought.  You are conflicted.  The Mother has seen fit to set you along the path of hardship so that you may emerge stronger and wiser.  It may be difficult to see that, but I believe it is true.  And yet you are in danger of becoming lost.  Allow me to speak frankly."

This was the part where he imparted advice and compassionate insight and all that other horseshit.  "I feel as though you are over thinking.  In attempting to make sense of it all, you're leading yourself in circles, no?  I would like it if you stayed here for a few days at least.  To rest and meditate and gain some clarity, away from anyone who might try to influence you.  You can let your mind be quiet here.  And perhaps come to some understanding of where you have been and where you want to go."

And while she was here, he could work upon her doubts, set her in the direction he wanted her to go.

Time for a demonstration.  Speaker raised a hand, palm up, and summoned a tongue of flame.  It danced upon his hand, licking upward.  Not just fire, but the fire of the Living Sun, Her power made manifest through him.  Beautiful.  More vibrant than even mundane fire, the center of it the same yellow of the noonday sun.

He smiled at her through the flame.  "I want to give you something.  A reminder.  A simple truth.  Something you can always trust no matter where you go or who you meet.  Place your hand in the fire.  Go on.  And remember what it feels like to be a child of the Sun, remember what it means to have the Mother's blessing over your body, in your skin.  No other race can do this.  They will burn.  But not us.  Let this be an anchor for you.  If you are doubtful of everything else, let this be the one constant truth: that you are Solisi, bright and unburning."

[Rhindeer]

Niamh expected to be judged. She had made so many mistakes and being absolved for her crimes was more than she could have ever asked for, but it didn't change what she had done and now Speaker had heard the full story in all its glory, all her errors laid bare on the table to be examined and prodded and critiqued. It made her feel vulnerable, but she was already at the Mother's mercy and for all that it was horrifying, telling her story in full had been refreshingly cathartic.

But the judgment and disapproval never came.

She felt his hand cover hers, warm and soothing, and she let out a slow, shaky breath. Niamh still kept her eyes fixed to her glass as he spoke, but as he went on she gathered the courage to raise her eyes and look him in the face for the first time. Path of hardship. Light, was that ever true. It didn't seem fair, though. Why her? Her faith had never before wavered until she had gotten lost, at first physically and then, well...spiritually. But maybe that was the point? A test, to see how strong her faith was, because it wasn't strong at all if she could lose it when she was split from her people, was it? But she had been willing to die for it at one point.

Then her faith wavered. Then it broke. Not completely though--that's why she was here.

It still wasn't fair. Maybe the Mother knew she was still Her child, but everyone else saw a traitor.

A whore.

Dimitri's words cut deep.

Niamh kept quiet, though, and just listened, and when Speaker suggested she stay here for a few days, her eyes widened. She wanted to blurt out, "Really?" but bit her tongue instead. If he said it, he meant it, and she could feel her eyes starting to sting.

When he summoned the flame and said those words, that just about undid her.

Niamh bit down on the inside of her cheek, chest and throat tightening, and her vision began to blur, not from the flame's intensity but from its beauty. For a few seconds she just stared into it, hesitating, marveling at it but also fearing it. She knew she wouldn't burn, she had inherited that from her father, but part of her feared it would consume her if she touched it. The word "traitor" kept repeating in her head, but she finally just took a deep breath, set her water glass down on the floor, and reached her right hand into the fire.

It was hot, but not to the point of pain, enveloping her cold hand and spreading up her wrist. But more than the physical heat, it was the warmth that filled some void inside of her that toppled her toward the edge. Niamh's chest constricted and she bit down harder on her cheek until it hurt.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, she told herself as the flames licked her skin, and she took deep, calming breaths and closed her eyes to keep the tears trapped there. She always felt stupid when she cried and all it did was give her a headache in the end. No breaking down now. Not when she had come this far, not when she had dumped so much on Speaker already. Be brave.

"Th...thank you, Father," she managed to choke out, and to her embarrassment the tears she had been holding back slipped free, along with a hiccuped sob that made her shoulders jerk.

Dammit...

[Tally]

Break down, he thought.  Break down so that you will owe me for helping you back up.

Speaker watched Niamh intently.  Her eyes, her movements, every subtle expression that flickered across her face.  He was good at "managing" people.  That had been the way Breather put it, when he'd ordered Speaker so accompany Dimitri out of Solis.  But Niamh was making this almost too easy.

He waited patiently, hand outstretched, maintaining the flame.  Not every Solisi could conjure fire, but among the priesthood it was a nearly universal ability.  For him it was second nature, as simple as breathing.

Speaker allowed himself a genuine smile as she placed her hand into the flames.  "You see?" he said, curling his fingers around hers and sending the fire spiraling around their hands.  "You have Her blessing yet.  No one can take that from you.  If you were tested in the Plaza of Salvation this very day, you would walk out again with the benediction of the Church and every Solisi in attendance."

Ah, the Plaza.  Fronted by the Great Temple itself, full of firelight and song...and the screams of the burning.  A place of judgment for those who could not walk through the fire, a place of salvation for those who emerged unburned.  Prayer was always in the air there, the palm trees and temple columns always decorated for the season.  It was one of Speaker's favored places in the city, second in beauty only to the Whispering Plaza that stood before the White Palace itself, the seat of governance in Solis and a truly blinding beacon where the Sun struck perpendicular to its pale walls.  One could see that beacon winking from miles away.

Speaker blinked, and was surprised to find himself melancholy.  He wanted to go home.

Pushing all that aside, he refocused his attention and saw that Niamh was losing the last of her composure.  When she broke at last, he pulled her forward and rose up onto his knees to embrace her.  "I'm sorry for all you had to go through," he said softly.  "I hope you find some rest here."

He stroked her hair but held her loosely so that she could pull away if she chose.  Niiki—who had been practicing his hearing without listening—padded quietly into the room, laid a clean white handkerchief upon the arm of Niamh's chair, and disappeared again, fancying himself as a benevolent spirit, invisible and helpful.  He hummed quietly to himself as he retired to the bathing room., for the clock in the kitchen had struck and it was now the evening hour given over to his personal care.  Time to cleanse himself of the shadows of the day.

[Rhindeer]

Niamh scarcely needed the prompting. When Speaker pulled her forward and embraced her, she slid out of her chair, landed on her knees, and threw her arms around him. He held her loosely, but she clung on tightly and buried her face against his neck as she broke down completely, crying in earnest even though it shamed her. She hated feeling so vulnerable, it was embarrassing, but she couldn't have stopped it if she'd tried and she wouldn't have wanted to, anyway. It felt good in its own way, to finally come clean like this, and the simple human contact made her feel far less isolated.

She'd been holding it all in for far too long. Come to think of it, the last time she had even cried was months and months ago, almost a year ago, when she was still a hostage. She hadn't cried since. She had just sort of locked it all away.

"Thank you," she repeated when she had finally calmed down and exhausted her supply of tears, but it was still a little bit longer before she let go of him and sat back on her heels. Her nose was stuffy, her eyes were sore, and her head felt achy like it always did after a good cry, but she still felt a lot better. Cleansed. Light it had been forever since she had felt truly clean, and her exchange with Dimitri had left her feeling utterly filthy. But Speaker's words rang true--She hadn't left her, even though she'd felt abandoned and worthless for so long. And he was willing to speak with her still, even hug her.

It gave her hope. Light, but she could still feel that fire's warmth.

"And...sorry. I probably got you all wet..." She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and shot him an apologetic look, then drew a shuddering breath as she finally got a hold of herself.

With another deep breath, she slumped with her back resting against the chair and her rump on the floor, knees drawn up toward her chest. All cried out with the horrors of nearly a year laid bare, now she just felt tired. Purged and exhausted.

And still worried.

She couldn't go back there.

After a few moment's silence--during which she found the cloth Niiki had set out for her and used it to clean up her face--she bit her lip and looked up at Speaker. "Father...? How..." She shifted uncomfortably and looked away. "How long can I stay here?"

Her daughter or not, absolved or not, that still didn't mean she'd be accepted.

[Tally]

Simple-minded.  That's what this girl was.  As Speaker held her and she wept he found himself disgusted.  Small wonder she'd gone and gotten herself abducted and tormented and confused by some foreigner.  Her kind of shallow faith repulsed him.  People like her, What had Dimitri seen in her, to take one like this out of Solis and risk her pliable will among temptations?

Oh, but Speaker could guess what Dimitri had seen.  He'd seen her blonde hair, which might have been lovely if she knew how to care for it at all, and her unblemished skin and eyes like a clear dawn sky and that's why she was there.  Had nothing to do with whatever skill or weapon training she had—if indeed she had any at all worth noting.

When he was finally able to drop this charade, he would tell her exactly that.

"You feel better?"  He held her hands in his for a moment, then released them to smooth the hair from her face.  "At least a bit less anxious?"  Speaker sat back and waited for her to compose herself and clean her face.  He considered her question, factoring in, among other things, just how long he wanted her in his home and what complications might arise should Dimitri take issue with her presence.  

"I would say...you should stay until you feel it is time for you to leave.  Stay until it is time for you to move on.  You will know when you are ready."

There.  That sounded suitably wise and enlightened.

Speaker pulled himself to his feet and readjusted his robes, smoothed out the folds and wrinkles then ran his hands over his hair.  Everything still in place.  He offered Niamh a hand up.  "I imagine you must be tired.  Have you eaten and bathed yet?  I have done both, so the accommodations are yours for the evening if you would like to prepare for sleep.  I have a spare room for you to use."

[Rhindeer]

Niamh smiled tiredly up at Speaker as he brushed her hair back from her face, and she let her shoulders relax when she realized how tense they were. "Yeah...a lot better." Not all of the anxiety was gone, but a large chunk of it was and she felt lighter for it. The whole journey here, she had compiled a list of worst case scenarios in her head, of everything that could go wrong and what the result would be--all the whole realizing just how crazy she was to even take a chance like that--and it was a relief that, thus far, her fears hadn't been realized. Quite the opposite.

She'd been pardoned...

That left only a couple other unresolved fears.

Like where was Dimitri?

Niamh's stomach twisted a little at the thought and she pushed it away. She didn't want to think about what that encounter would be like, and even if he hadn't threatened to cut off her head she still didn't know if she could face him.

He had every right to say what he had. He was right.

When Speaker answered her question, Niamh felt both reassured and troubled. What if she never felt ready to move on? Where was she going to go? Back out there? Back to Solis? Could she go back to Solis? And when would she be overstaying her welcome here? She didn't say that, though. Instead she forced a smile and grasped his hand. "Thank you, Father. I don't know how I can thank you enough...or even begin to repay you, I..." Niamh took a deep breath to collect herself and blinked several times, deciding to stop there before she got all emotional again. Argh. That was embarrassing. "Thank you," she finished. For not giving up on her, for giving her a second chance, for reminding her of the Mother's love.

She pulled herself to her feet, but used her legs more than her arm so she didn't put too much weight on Speaker. That just seemed disrespectful, and for all of his hospitality and kindness, she still felt awkward, like she needed to be formal--and she was never good at that. But that was just insecurity and exhaustion and leftover stress speaking, and when Speaker mentioned food and a bath and sleep--ah, Light, she could have hugged him again. Niamh hadn't eaten since that morning, but food was secondary right now. A bath, though...

Niamh brushed off her knees and straightened up, then ran a hand through her hair which was a bit oily in the front. Yeah, definitely needed a bath. She felt bogged down from the day. "I think I'm too tired to even be hungry," she said, and could feel the fatigue catching up with her fast. "I really appreciate the offer, though. Ah, which way is it? Your bath, I mean, and the room? You really don't mind?"

[Tally]

"Of course I don't mind.  This is why I came with the Lumenari, after all.  For council, and to aid in the replenishment of the soul.  Life, it is harsh outside of Solis.  There are dangers to the mind...dangers one cannot fight with sword and shield."  He averted his eyes when she ran a hand through her hair and thought that perhaps tomorrow he would make a gift of some jewelry and trinkets he no longer had a use for, to make her feel more human again but most of all to make her somewhat tolerable to look at.

He offered her his arm arm and ushered her deeper into the house, through the doorway branching off from the kitchen and down toward the bathing room.  He'd had nearly the entire interior repainted and large floor-to-ceiling windows built in to open the place up to more sunlight.  It had been like living in a cave before with so much dark paneling and the roof all closed and low.  To this day he had not seen a single house in La'marri with a sky window.  These people huddled in the dark, even in daytime.

Niiki was nowhere to be seen—like a good drow, he kept himself out of sight most of the time—but his efforts showed in the oils and soaps laid out before the bath and the fresh towels and a clean syrma waiting beside the porcelain tub.  Not only would Niamh be provided for, but she would be provided for in true Solisi tradition.  Were it not for the wash of greenery beyond the windows, this could have been any home in Solis.

No barbarian fashions on offer here, no.  Even the cloth of the spare syrma had come off a desert loom.

"Here we are.  Take as much time as you need."  He hovered a moment by the door frame and awaited any further needs she might have, thinking how grateful he would be once she got the stink off her.  Simply standing in her presence was nigh suffocating.

"You can call for me should you require anything.  The spare room is further down on the right.  When you're done you can retire if you like, or we can find you something to eat."

Hopefully the girl would sleep.  He needed to talk to Breathes the Fire, but wouldn't risk raising a phoenix fire when she might hear, simple-minded though she was.

For though Dimitri had threatened to kill her, some lingering loyalty to him might inspire distress if she learned they intended to deliver his head to the senate.

[Rhindeer]

Speaker's home was undeniably beautiful, and it was all Niamh could do to not gawk. After all those months--maybe even closer to a year, she didn't even know--spent out in Serendipity being in this place was like walking out of a cave and into the sun. It was like being--dare she think it?--home. The thought made her chest ache and she quickly pushed it back.

When they reached the bathing room and she saw all the oils and soaps laid out...forget hugging, she could have kissed Speaker. She'd been settling for cold river dips for the months it had taken to get here and before that, well, the baths the people here called baths were hardly any better. They were warm, at least. But oils! Real Solisi oils and soaps! And a syrma? She hadn't worn one of those in forever.

Niamh released Speaker's arm, flashed him a bright smile, and almost hugged him, but she stopped short. No, that could wait for when she didn't feel like a living, sweaty dust ball. "Ahh, don't tell me that. I'll fall asleep in the tub," she joked, stretching to work out some of the knots that had formed between her shoulder blades these past few days. She took a step inside the room, then turned back to Speaker.

"I might as it is. G'night, Father, and thank you again."

When Speaker was gone and the door was closed, Niamh wasted no time in stripping down, sinking into the tub, and making good use of some choice oils. She spent a long while just soaking away the aches of travel and stress of months, but when the water started to cool she finally got down to business and scrubbed herself until it almost hurt and washed her hair until it shone. It felt like years of grime was being rinsed away.

The water was really chilly by the time she got out and, shivering, she quickly dried herself--trying hard not to drip water all over the floors and mopping it up with the towel when she did--and then considered the syrma.

She hadn't worn one in ages...

It was either that or her old dirty clothes, though, and cleanliness won out.

She didn't remember the syrma feeling so awkward.

Maybe it was because she'd grown used to wearing breeches, she didn't know, but once the syrma was tied and the top fasted--Niamh didn't know if she could leave the bathing room. She felt strangely naked in a way she never before had when growing up wearing clothes like these. Then again, she had been wearing Serenian fashions for so long, living amongst a people that viewed bare flesh as scandalous...it was kind of strange to get back into these clothes and that mindset and she kept wanting to adjust the syrma so it didn't show so much thigh.

And yet she couldn't quite stop looking herself over in the mirror. She still didn't have much by way of hips or breasts, she was still pretty straight up and down, but she looked and felt a bit more...female.

Amazing what a bath and a new set of clothes could do for one's self esteem.

She towel-dried her hair until it was damp instead of dripping and then left the towel folded and draped over the tub's rim. She didn't know what to do with her old clothes so she took them with her as she left the bath and found the spare room. Those she placed in a neat pile off to the side--boots, breeches, shirt, and a knife--before she pulled back the covers, crawled into bed, and curled up tight.

It felt good not to think, and for the first time in months she felt truly safe.

[Tally]

Speaker bowed and took his leave of her, and the moment the door closed behind him he let loose the sneer that had been wanting to escape ever since she set foot in his home.  At first he'd thought she would be a welcome respite from Dimitri, but after having to endure her hysterics and that vacant stare for just one evening, he was already longing for Dimitri's hell raising.  At least with Dimitri he didn't have to hide his dislike, just his intentions.

Thank the Light he wouldn't have to put up with this for long.  Just until they got the stupid slut to implicate Dimitri in treason—unknowingly on her part of course.  All she had to do was tell exactly what she knew.

As Speaker disappeared into his own room, Niiki ducked out into the hall and finished the preparations for Mistress Niamh's room while she bathed.  He laid out an extra set of clothes and ensured she had a small, covered pitcher of water and a pair of cups.  Their hospitality must be perfect, and before leaving the room he paused and scanned every corner to make sure he didn't forget anything.

Once both of his masters had retired, Niiki did so as well, tucking himself away in a small room off the hall.  Before the sun arose again, Niiki was already up and preparing the morning meal.  He watched the sky lighten through the home's floor-to-ceiling windows and listened for the sounds of stirring from the other end of the house.  Father usually rose with the dawn, and he would do his best to anticipate Mistress Niamh's needs.

[Rhindeer]

Niamh was usually an early riser, but she slept well past dawn. The journey here had been long and she hadn't gotten much sleep during it, sick with nervousness and having to sleep on the ground, but that night she had the best sleep she'd gotten in...who knows how long. The bed was soft and warm and even when she woke she didn't want to get out of it, burrowing deeper under the covers and pulling an extra pillow over her eyes. Just a few more minutes...a little longer wouldn't hurt...

Wait, bed?

Jolting in sudden realization and letting out a small gasp, Niamh tossed the pillow off her face and sat up, eyes wide and darting around the room. It took a few panicked moments to remember where she was--and that everything that had happened wasn't a dream. She was really here. Those were Solisi patterns on the blankets, Solisi decorations in the room. She was really here. She'd made it.

Things could finally go back to normal again, and she could piece her life back together.

Letting out the breath she'd been holding and letting herself relax again, she flopped backward against the pillows and took another deep breath, glancing toward the window. How late was it? The lighting hinted at mid-morning...ack! She'd slept in! Speaker was probably up already and here she was, lazing about like a log! Throwing off the covers and hopping out of bed, she quickly retied her top, which had slipped down her chest sometime in the night, adjusted her syrma, washed her face, and finger-combed her hair to make it somewhat presentable, even if she couldn't really tame it. Okay! She was ready for the day!

Her stomach gave a loud gurgle.

And hungry, too.

Still feeling a little awkward and out of place, Niamh took drew another breath and stepped outside her room. Be at home, Father had said, so why did she feel like she was sneaking around the house? She glanced down the hall and listened for any signs of Speaker, but couldn't hear him and wasn't sure if he was still here or still sleeping. Her stomach growled again and she slapped a hand over it and glared. Okay. Be at home. Alright, then! She could do that.

The smells of food drew her attention, so she padded on bare feet through the house and toward the kitchen.

[Tally]

Niiki was in the kitchen when he heard the Father's guest stirring down the hall.  He took up a simple but delicately carved wooden serving tray and placed upon it a pitcher of chilled grape juice and a cup.  These he rested upon the bar, behind which marched a row of stools that Mistress Niamh might wish to take her ease upon while she broke her fast.

He bowed as she entered, and spoke only that which the Father had directed he say to her, for it was never a drow's place to speak unbidden to the suntouched.  "Good morning, Mistress.  The Father has stepped out, and will return momentarily.  He welcomes you to take your ease as you await his return."

Niiki began laying out fruits and flatbreads upon the bar, but did not serve the mistress himself.  That was a custom of the barbarians in this land, but it was not the way for a drow to properly serve.  He was not meant to interject himself into his master's lives, to be conspicuous, but to create a space in which their needs were seen to.  Thusly did the drow serve, and thusly did they abide by the order of creation.

[Rhindeer]

Hurk!

Niamh whirled when someone spoke, having gotten distracted on the way by some porcelain piece, and her breath caught in revulsion when she saw it was the drow. Light, she didn't think she was ever going to get used to that. Right before she got taken, they were hunting drow and making examples of them, and then she comes back and they're servants?

What else had changed?

She stared warily at it, tense, and edged her way over to the bar to draw out a stool and climb up onto it--all without letting it out of her sight, just in case. Then she looked down at the food, and then back at it. Last night she had been too hungry and too stressed to care about where her food and drink came from and had hardly even registered the creature; she'd been half convinced she was going to die, yet knew she'd be unable to live with herself if she didn't go back. Now, with the danger passed and her all rested and alive...

Her stomach growled again, painfully, and with a sigh she took up a piece of fruit. Whatever. Apparently this was the norm now, and she was the one stuck in the past.

But oh Light was this creepy.

For a few minutes Niamh ate in silence, hunched over her meal and trying not to notice the drow. But it was still there, doing stuff, and before long the silence became too much.

She set her cup down a little too hard and jerked upright. "How long have you served here?"

[Tally]

In the midst of his cleaning, Niiki ducked down behind the kitchen counter and checked his reflection in the shiny surface of a silver serving tray.  Vanity was bad—one displayed their beauty for others to enjoy—but he couldn't help but think the white, gauzy cloth of his serving raiment looked handsome against his dark skin.

A few strands of hair had loosened from his ponytail, so he tucked them back and smoothed his hair down, turning his head from side to side to judge himself from all angles.  He sprang up at mistress Niamh's address, still clutching the serving tray.

"Nigh on four months now, Mistress.  In Her benevolence, the Shining Mother decreed that drow who serve may rise in our next lives as one of the suntouched.  Drow have been serving in the capital for nigh two years now, Mistress, but it has taken that long for the changes to reach believers in the barbarian lands—"

Niiki clapped his mouth shut and wheeled around to put the serving tray away in a cabinet. He had spoken too much, and talked of things mistress Niamh hadn't even asked about.  He loved to talk.  It was a problem.

[Rhindeer]

Yep. Niamh had made the right choice in putting down her cup, because what he said...well, needless to say she would have probably choked. Or sprayed.

Two YEARS?

Sometime after he was done, Niamh realized her mouth was still hanging open so she quickly shut it before a fly flew in or something. Two years? And this one had been serving here for four months? Then it had come shortly after she'd been taken. Jeez. Next thing she knew, she'd be going back home and finding out you could marry the things!

Creepy, creepy, creepy.

"Uh...wow. That's...that's something else, all right," she said, not knowing what else to say. And then there was this one...what was its name? Started with an 'N'...Nika? Sounded about right. How was she supposed to treat it now? This was just too bizarre.

"So...drow...Nika?" Oh, she was so not gonna get used to this. Her skin crawled just a little. "Where is the Father right now?" She shoved another piece of fruit in her mouth, and talked around it. Suck it up, Niamh. At least she could get information from it, apparently. "And do you know of a Dimitri?"

[Tally]

He would have liked to bounce up and down when she chose to continue the conversation, but took a deep breath and restrained himself.  Stay calm, stay poised. He turned around slowly and clasped his hands behind his back to keep from gesturing too...enthusiastically.

"Oh yes!"  His face split into a grin.  "Master Dimitri! He should be in the village somewhere, unless the Lumenari have dispatched. He doesn't come by the Father's house often."

Which was too bad really. Master Dimitri didn't care to have anyone, drow or not, see to his needs, but that was just because he wasn't used to it!  If he would just visit the house more often, Niiki was sure he would come to value the conveniences of hospitality.

"Father didn't mention where he was going, only that he would return shortly. Oh! Do you need me to send a message to Dimitri?"