The Sword Maiden

Grief and Baths

I snapped my eyes back to him and gave him a half-hearted grin.  "You are a perceptive man, Father."  

He breathed out a laugh.  "I don't know about that.  But I am good at reading people."  He shifted forward just a bit, his eyes filled with gentle, yet earnest compassion.  

"People weave stories with their lives, and I've learned to read the stories they weave.  That's part of my job, as a Life-Giver priest.  I've learned to see when a person is in the midst of a story of trial, or trouble, or pain, or grief, and isn't sure whether the ending to that story will be good or bad, what choice they will make.

"I don't know why you're so joyless when the Feast of Thanksgiving is here.   I don't think that you're someone who doesn't believe in the Life-Giver.  I do think that you've lost something, or someone, around this time."  

I let out the choked gasp of a bitter chuckle and pressed the backs of my fingertips to my mouth.  How had this man known?  All the time I'd been with him, I'd never let on.  Never let onto my grief in any way other than the fact that I was quiet while others were talking with happy anticipation of a Feast that had taken so much from me.  No one besides my parents, or Redwar, had been able to read me so well.

"I don't know what you've lost, Ravine.  I just want to let you know, it's alright if you can't feel joy at this time right now.  It's alright that you feel grief."  

He reached forward and took my limp hand on the bar, squeezed it in understanding, and then left.  

I'd felt so alone in my grief, because I didn't want to ruin anyone else's Feast day with my sorrow.  But to have someone else recognize how I was hurting meant so much to me.

And I remembered there was someone else who was suffering quietly today too.

I left my water on the bar and went out into the town.  Derrek was leaning against the tavern's wall, hands in his pockets, eyes downcast.  I'm sorry, Derrek.

I walked over and reached out a hand to touch his arm.  He looked up at me, eyes covered in a sheen of wetness.

"We need to talk."  My voice was husky.  

He nodded.  "Yeah."  

Derrek and I wept together, remembered together, and even laughed a little together for more than two hours in the stable. By then, it was dark and past supper time. But both of us felt better. Like we weren't being choked by our sorrow, but had let it go for now.

Both of us agreed to not be bitter at the Feast tomorrow. Not to let grief steal the joy of the day. Our parents would not want us to do that. And furthermore, it was time we acknowledged we still had other things to be thankful for. Most especially, finding each other after the raid.

I was also thankful for Redwar, and Valeria. Both of them had given so much of themselves to help me, and I would be remiss not to celebrate that.

Redwar was still up when we finally went in. His eyes flashed to us as we came in. He did not rebuke our lateness, but simply nodded towards where bread, butter, and cheese were left out on a table.

Both of us were hungry and were glad that there was something good to eat. We sat down across from Redwar.

"Feeling better now?" He asked.

We glanced at each other and nodded. "Yes, much better," I answered as I reached for a slice of bread.

Something in his eyes relaxed. "Good."

After a moment of silence, he said, "Did I see you working with a priest, Ravine?"

I was pretty sure he knew I'd been working with a priest, but answered anyway. "Yep. He's the Life Giver priest for this town. He had to go away for a bit, but came back in time for the fall feasts. His name is Father Mullincay."

He nodded slowly, his eyes off to the side. "Good to know. I'm glad there will be a priest presiding over the Feast tomorrow."

He pushed himself up. "Well, you two missed out on baths tonight, but not tomorrow," he warned. "You'll each be having one early in the morning."

I wouldn't protest, I knew both Derrek and I sorely needed one.

He dipped his head. "Till tomorrow, then. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," we both said in unison as he strode off. But I couldn't help noticing that he went toward the side door which led to the stables, not the hallway that led to the bedrooms.

I rolled my lips in thought. I wondered what he was up to. Had Derrek's and I's grief, which Redwar would have easily perceived, triggered his guilt for his past again? I hated the thought of it.

But he hadn't seemed as... Well, tormented as he usually did. Sure, there was the regret which shadowed him like a cloak. But nothing more than that that I could see.

Still, Redwar was all too good at hiding what he was truly feeling. Oh Redwar... I longed for him to find the true peace he had never seemed to find for himself.

Redwar was right about us having baths early in the morning.  I just gotten up when I heard a knock on our door.  Valeria was still rubbing sleep from her eyes, so I crossed the room to open it.

Derrek stood there, his hair slick down and wet, his fence looking cleaner and redder than it had in weeks.  "Your turn," he said, running a hand through his wet hair with a small grin.  "The bathtub's down the hall two doors, and all the things you need are there." 

I grinned and realized I was looking forward to a real bath.  "Thanks, Derrek."  

He grinned a little wider, nodded, and headed down the hall, no doubt to devour whatever was available this early for breakfast. 

I gathered up my set of clean clothes and was surprised to find myself looking forward to the day.  Yes, there was a tinge of sadness in the background.  But I was also looking forward to good food, fun dancing, and times with friends who had been there for me through this last year.