1629, Fire Season, Fertility Week, Waterday
Context
Wilmskirk, after the Wolf Pirates were driven off. Varanis and Serala are reunited. Towards the end of Sartar 5 (South) #9: Gate Pass.
Events
As soon as possible after the Wolf Pirates have been driven away, Varanis goes looking for Serala.
She is not difficult to find. Amazingly, she is with the horses. Slightly more actually-amazingly, she is not fussing over the horses, but more intent on getting a messenger settled onto a good one, talking to them with a look of concern on her expression. Finally, with a nod, she steps back and the messenger turns and heads on out, the Grazelander watching the departure. It takes a moment before she turns, straightening her back to shoulder the day’s duties, but on seeing Varanis her heavy expression lightens into a bright, welcoming smile.
Varanis watches the horse and rider, then turns back to Serala, one brow raised in question.
“Message back to Apple Lane.” Serala offers. “Nothing of concern, but duties and responsibilities; you how how it is, better than most, I think.”
The Vingan nods. “And you’re truly unharmed? They didn’t torture you or anything?”
“I would perhaps not say the souls of courtesy, but no. I am unharmed.” Ignoring the tiny wound that came too close to comfort for her child, she instead looks long and hard at your shoulder. “I believe it is I that should be asking you that question, lady-heart.”
Varanis glances to the torn and bloodied padding and the scar visible through it. She winces. “Humakti healing is not the kindest, but I’ll live and I have full use of the limb, I think. The skin feels tight, so I should probably work it to make sure…” She’s babbling.
There is an amused smile from Serala. “Liniment.” she offers. “Horse liniment. I can rub it in for you. I’m sure it will give your coat.. err.. skin.. a good shine.” Amused, yes, and who is going to tell off an Orlanthi for getting into a battle? Might as well ask Yelm not to awaken each day. “You should clean up. Kallyr is here, and while she will accept less than pristine family in the midst of a battle, I fear she will require you to be suitably attired when you doubtless call upon her ladyshipness in course.”
There’s another wince and then Varanis is throwing herself at Serala for a desperate hug, though careful to wrap her arms above the woman’s belly. “I was so afraid for you,” she mumbles as she squeezes the breath out of her lover’s lungs.
The tall Grazelander returns the hug, wrapping her arms tightly around Varanis, one hand reaching up to gently twine into the Vingan’s mane of hair, holding her close. “No need to fear for me, ‘heart.” she gentles. “I was just going for a little ride. Perhaps a little more excitement at the end than anticipated… but from what I hear, the same is true for you. Did you need to go getting your arm chopped off? I will love you until the end of time, no matter how many limbs you have – or have not – but I will be honest and say I prefer that you keep them all.”
Varanis chokes on a laugh and leans back so she can search Serala’s face. Satisfied, she gives a little nod. “So… what was that damned duck on about anyway?” she asks.
Serala winces. “That… damned… duck.” At least ‘damned’ is the word recorded for posterity, Varanis knows a lot of Grazelander cursing by now and that word is definitely not for polite company. “So, and this is where you have to promise not to be cross, Gunda challenged Farinst, as Wilmskirk Rex. No-one else stepped up to stand at his side. Someone had to. Even if the people who look to him would not, someone had to.” A shadow crosses her face for a moment, “I didn’t mean to insult them. I spoke truth. Truth should never be insult.” she laments quietly.
“You what?!” But before Serala has space to answer, Varanis shakes her head. “I’d have done the same. It’s rather who we are, isn’t it? But what does Devolin have to do with that? He sure wouldn’t have offered to help in that fight.”
That does bring Serala giggling, in spite of herself, at the image of the duck facing down the Pirate Queen. “Well, Farinst decided to help by calling out ‘My wife is pregnant’. Truth, of course. But the implication of that truth was.. untrue. The Wolf Pirate challenged that I was not his wife and a voice… you know who’s voice, of course… called from the crowd ‘But she is’. And Varanis, in that moment, even I believed it. It was.. confusing.”
“Of course, there is a chance she might not have killed me. She might have taken me hostage anyhow. Only the Gods know what the outcome would have been, and it is not the absolute that Devolin is bound to claim. But… he did help, at the very least.”
“You and Farinst? That’s… an interesting pairing. I suppose it could work…” Varanis pretends to consider it but can’t keep a straight face. “He’d never be able to keep up with you, Golden Hawk. And rumour has it that his wife is formidable in her own way.” The smile becomes something more considering. “We’ll need to come up with a suitable reward to keep him happy. Devolin, not Farinst.”
“What is this I hear of illegal gambling, carried out by him in the name of you and Berra?” Serala enquires evenly. “That duck is lucky to even get to keep his life, even if he claims debt on this occasion, he owes a hundredfold.”
The Vingan sighs. “He was running a rigged lottery using sacred stones from Maran Gor. And claiming that Berra and I would vouch for the surety of it. He’s been suitably punished… mind you… I ordered him to leave Wilmskirk and go to Duck Point! What was he still doing here?!”
“A fine question, and one I am certain he will answer with ‘Saving Serala’s life’, so perhaps don’t ask it and give him the opportunity…”
Despite herself, Varanis chuckles. “You’re right, of course. Still, I need to find him a suitable gift of some sort. I don’t suppose you have a small pony or something?”
Serala looks at the various torcs and bangles that are a significant part of her wealth, carried on her person. “I do. Or at least, I can find one. Assuming he does not prefer more portable reward?” She is not parting with her silver Vampire arm ring, but she has others.
“A pony is highly portable,” Varanis points out. “Especially if its legs are working as expected. And watching him attempt to ride would be amusing. But he’d not say no to gold or silver.”
“A pack pony, perhaps. To help him escape with his doubtless ill-gotten gains in the future.”
Varanis laughs at the image, then links her arm through Serala’s. “You’re right, I should get cleaned up before I’m summoned. I need to speak to Tennebris. Let’s keep plotting against Devolin as we try to make me presentable?”
“I like Tennebris.” Serala confides. “Even if I am still irritated with him. Perhaps, with you in tow, you can keep me out of trouble long enough to make nice with him. In exchange, I’ll help you out with that horse liniment…” She gently shoulder-barges Varanis before going in search of copper pans, hot water and something that smells better than liniment, no matter how shiny it makes one’s coat.
Varanis smiles and follows along.
