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feredarStory: Assurance
Year: 1012 FY
Characters: Isshiri, Taz, Roneli
Warnings: References to character/spousal/parental death, references to slavery and Isshiri's experiences in Feredar
Isshiri curled up on a pile of furs that were far too soft for Taz to have prepared—the erstwhile Captain had about as much patience for that kind of task as he himself did—his journal idle on his lap, watching Taz’s children play with his little girl.
“How’re you holdin’ up?”
Right on cue, he thought, and looked up and smiled. “Well enough, I think. Roneli likes it here.”
“Dallu says she’s good with her lessons,” Taz said. “Is it just the two’ve you?”
Isshiri looked away. “Most of the time, now. We stop more often than I used to, but…yes, a lot of the time we’re alone.”
“Never figured you for that kind of solitary,” she said.
“I’m not, really,” he said. “I like people. But I like seeing new things more.”
“And after a while, one little village is much the same as the last?” Taz guessed.
He nodded. “And places that stand out are distant enough that…I used to spend a lot of time alone.”
“Will you be stayin’ here?” Taz asked. “You know you’re welcome, if you want to. ‘Cause of your little one, if nothin’ else.”
Isshiri made a face. “Thank you, but…probably not. Well, for a while, of course, but…not for too long.” His hand went reflexively up to his collar. Feredar was at least theoretically temperate, and he’d come closer than he liked to admit to fading away. Not that Taz and Dallu or their kin would push him that hard, but…well, the North was not temperate, and he’d rather not risk it.
“You’ll visit, though, right?”
“Of course,” he said. “I’ll just…need to spend a fair amount of time somewhere less…”
“Hostile?”
He smiled wryly. “Not sure that’s the right word, because everyone here is nice, but…yes.”
“Daddy!” Roneli yelled, running up to him—or trying. She was acclimating far better than he was, but she was very small and not altogether steady on slippery ground.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he said, unburrowing and reaching out to catch her.
“Look, look, look what Dal gimme!”
It was some sort of shark’s tooth (worn shiny and very dull), or maybe a whale’s—Isshiri couldn’t really tell the difference.
“It’s very pretty,” he told her, like he knew she wanted to hear. “Do you want me to make a necklace with it?”
“Nuh-uh,” she said, shaking her head fiercely. “Hairtie!”
“All right,” he said, and ruffled her hair. “Want to sit with me, or go back to play?”
“Play! But you gotta take care of the pretty,” she said, all seriousness.
“I will,” he promised. “Don’t run too fast.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said, then scampered off, completely forgetting to be careful.
He sighed. “You’ll…you’ll look after her, right?”
“’Course,” Taz said, uncharacteristically serious. “Dallu says s’best if there’s no interruptions. And we’ll fix it with the sentries so you can come back as often as you like.”
“I know,” he said, softly. “And thank you. I know she needs this, and…I just…you won’t let her forget me, right?” He wasn’t at all sure she remembered Telri, and that was hard enough. If he came back to her as a stranger…
“We won’t,” Taz promised.
“Thank you,” he whispered. He turned the tooth over and over in his hand, watching his little girl play in the snow and aching deep inside.
Year: 1012 FY
Characters: Isshiri, Taz, Roneli
Warnings: References to character/spousal/parental death, references to slavery and Isshiri's experiences in Feredar
Isshiri curled up on a pile of furs that were far too soft for Taz to have prepared—the erstwhile Captain had about as much patience for that kind of task as he himself did—his journal idle on his lap, watching Taz’s children play with his little girl.
“How’re you holdin’ up?”
Right on cue, he thought, and looked up and smiled. “Well enough, I think. Roneli likes it here.”
“Dallu says she’s good with her lessons,” Taz said. “Is it just the two’ve you?”
Isshiri looked away. “Most of the time, now. We stop more often than I used to, but…yes, a lot of the time we’re alone.”
“Never figured you for that kind of solitary,” she said.
“I’m not, really,” he said. “I like people. But I like seeing new things more.”
“And after a while, one little village is much the same as the last?” Taz guessed.
He nodded. “And places that stand out are distant enough that…I used to spend a lot of time alone.”
“Will you be stayin’ here?” Taz asked. “You know you’re welcome, if you want to. ‘Cause of your little one, if nothin’ else.”
Isshiri made a face. “Thank you, but…probably not. Well, for a while, of course, but…not for too long.” His hand went reflexively up to his collar. Feredar was at least theoretically temperate, and he’d come closer than he liked to admit to fading away. Not that Taz and Dallu or their kin would push him that hard, but…well, the North was not temperate, and he’d rather not risk it.
“You’ll visit, though, right?”
“Of course,” he said. “I’ll just…need to spend a fair amount of time somewhere less…”
“Hostile?”
He smiled wryly. “Not sure that’s the right word, because everyone here is nice, but…yes.”
“Daddy!” Roneli yelled, running up to him—or trying. She was acclimating far better than he was, but she was very small and not altogether steady on slippery ground.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he said, unburrowing and reaching out to catch her.
“Look, look, look what Dal gimme!”
It was some sort of shark’s tooth (worn shiny and very dull), or maybe a whale’s—Isshiri couldn’t really tell the difference.
“It’s very pretty,” he told her, like he knew she wanted to hear. “Do you want me to make a necklace with it?”
“Nuh-uh,” she said, shaking her head fiercely. “Hairtie!”
“All right,” he said, and ruffled her hair. “Want to sit with me, or go back to play?”
“Play! But you gotta take care of the pretty,” she said, all seriousness.
“I will,” he promised. “Don’t run too fast.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said, then scampered off, completely forgetting to be careful.
He sighed. “You’ll…you’ll look after her, right?”
“’Course,” Taz said, uncharacteristically serious. “Dallu says s’best if there’s no interruptions. And we’ll fix it with the sentries so you can come back as often as you like.”
“I know,” he said, softly. “And thank you. I know she needs this, and…I just…you won’t let her forget me, right?” He wasn’t at all sure she remembered Telri, and that was hard enough. If he came back to her as a stranger…
“We won’t,” Taz promised.
“Thank you,” he whispered. He turned the tooth over and over in his hand, watching his little girl play in the snow and aching deep inside.