Mellia — Absent Friends
????, Storm Season, Disorder Week
Storm Season, late in Disorder Week. [[[s02:session-25|Session 25]]]
After some hours at the Temple, meditating in the open air and getting rained on, Venlar is dripping wet and shivering cold, but he says, “I heard an answer.” He is not really capable of walking home, but Thenaya sent out thralls with warm clothes and food, and he sits and shivers in a small dressing room by the Temple, as the ability to get undressed and into warm clothes has been washed away by cold rain.
Mellia tries to get Venlar warm and dry and dressed. “What did the god say?”
The thralls help too, obviously used to this. He is placid in their power, but when he can speak clearly he says, “With Bisons and weavers of straw, at a bison’s funeral.”
“I hope it’s not Billy,” Mellia replies. “I would miss him.”
“I think it was an animal, not a person, and nobody is in Hell,” Venlar replies, “But no names.”
“So I think they are in Prax with the Bison Riders. Prax is a big place. I think we should go to the Paps if we want to find them.”
“There are different sorts of Bison Riders. It’s a Tribe, with a lot of clans. I don’t know what weavers of straw means, but that’s a clue too, or I wouldn’t have been told it.” Venlar pulls Mellia onto his lap. “Come here. I need a healer to warm me.”
Mellia sits on Venlar’s lap and happily snuggles. “I have no idea how to find anyone in Prax. I suppose the question now is whether we should go seek my friends.”
“Well, we know they are alive. I didn’t ask how they were. We could stay here and help. Father thinks differently to Lord Eril – he doesn’t like having all of his children in one place, in case of war.”
“Your father is wise. I don’t know if we can delay the Colymar long enough to do any good. I suppose we should go to Greyrocks while we think.”
“If you do that, I’ll prepare for travel?” Venlar suggests. “I could join you there – it’s the right road.”
“Thanks. Let me see you home and pack. I should be able to leave tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll follow as soon as all is done here,” he says, carefully putting her down and standing. “I can’t feel my feet too well. This is like I was before I met you, only now I know.” He walks clumsily, unsure of himself.
Mellia would see Venlar home and take care of him. She is worried about him. If he’s really bad in the morning, she would postpone Greyrocks.
He gets better even as they walk, although he does say, “I am glad Mama did not have to see that. It used to happen just for no reason.”
“That must have terrified her.”
“We got used to it after a while. It was just me. But it was never pleasant.” Venlar rubs at his right eye, loosening the scar a little so he can blink.
Mellia would try to sneak Venlar into bed before Thenaya sees him like this.
By morning he is thawed out and a lot happier, although he did ask for a surprisingly large amount of keeping warm in the night.
Mellia would try to keep Venlar warm.
There is poetry in gratitude. Eventually.
The poetry is much appreciated.
Venlar waves her away, runs after her for a last kiss, and sends a rider after her with some sweets an hour later. The rider, one of the household light cavalry, looks somewhere between hugely irritated and very amused.
Mellia thanks the rider profusely.
He smiles at her, and says, “I remember the first time I was in love. But maybe you could let him know to send someone who isn’t a sworn warrior of the clan. If you hadn’t been you…”
“I will do that,” Mellia promises. “Here, take a sweet.”
He grins, and eats. He waves at her as he rides away.