Re-building Vignette x Tourmaline

The Market

5 months had passed since Vignette and Tourmaline had returned to Tirnanoc. They were rebuilding. Together, they were creating the foundations for a new life. Though sometimes it was hard to tell whether their old life had really ended, they were happy, for the first time in as long as they could remember, but memories never truly fade do they? Dreams plagued with loss, fear twisting happy moments into what if's and questions unanswered, what if they were torn apart again? Left to mourn, alone.

***

Vignette stirred, the remanence of sleep still draped over her like a warm summer's morning. It was the deep of winter, but Tourmaline provided all the comfort she needed, her wings embraced Vignette and cradled her softly, she still slept soundly beside her, only stirring when Vignette finally peeled herself out of her cocoon and tiptoed into the kitchen to bake the bread she had prepared the night before. It was one of the things she had hated doing before the war tore her from her daily life, but now she was beginning to find joy in the little things; collecting ingredients from the bustling market below their home, the feeling of lightly kneading the dough, the scent of fresh bread dancing from room to room, but the best part of it all was the arms trailing themselves around her body, the groggy voice whispering "hmm, something smells good." as she set the bread on the counter to cool.

"Mhm, I know my love, don't go eating it without me, or I'll have to show you who's boss." Vignette joked.

"Oh, will you now? I'd love to see you try." Tourmaline laughed aloud as she spun her partner around, her back now pressed firmly against the counter top, capturing her in a gentle kiss before pulling back and taking in the beautiful creature before her. This was easily her favourite way to spend her morning, teasing, laughing, and eventually cuddling up on the couch with a good book and a cup of her favourite hot drink.

An hour or so had passed in relative silence, apart from the occasional loving glance and the muted sound of Vignette's slender fingers toying with the beads that hung from Tourmaline's hair. They had become so comfortable in the past months, relearning everything about themselves and each other, that they had no need right now for anything other than enjoying the silence and basking in each other's presence. The days were short this deep into the mountains, the sunlight faded impossibly quicker with each passing week, and having only 6 hours of light was taking its toll on their homebody tendencies. They were much happier just lounging around the apartment all day long, not being disturbed by anyone or anything, just the two of them in their little bubble of bliss. It didn't last long. When Tourmaline had reached her 4th cup of chai tea, they had realised they were out of nearly everything they needed for dinner. This meant leaving their heated-by-an-open-fire apartment and braving the ice and snow outside. The two fae bundled themselves up in their warmest layers and braced themselves for the journey to the market below.

Despite the cold, the atmosphere was vibrant and alive, filled with an ancient, mysterious energy. Deals were made with silver coins, rare trinkets, or even promises whispered under one's breath. A slice of the fae realm carved into the frozen peaks of winter. Above it all, the mountains loomed, their presence both comforting and daunting, as if they, too, remembered the war that shook their foundations. The air, still crisp and cold, carried a different energy—one of recovery. The fae move through the market, slowly rebuilding their lives, balancing between grief for what was lost and the determination to rebuild stronger than before. Even amid the ruins, there's an undercurrent of magic, a reminder that the fae are eternal, and that from the frozen bones of their world, something beautiful will rise again.

The two fae weaved through the stalls, bundled against the cold, navigating through the bustling space, their steps light on the snow-covered ground as they took in the atmosphere with a sense of pride. At a stall where a fae vendor, one arm wrapped in a shimmering bandage from some old wound, is selling a variety of winter vegetables, Vignette traces a bundle of frost-carrots, their icy blue roots glowing faintly in the dim light. She glances over at Tourmaline, raising an eyebrow.

"These should do," she says, her voice soft, though it carries through the cold air. "Do you think they'll go with the mushrooms?"

Tourmaline examined the carrots with a feigned expertise, then picked up a small bundle of the mushrooms from the same stall. The mushrooms were pale, nearly translucent, shimmering faintly as she held them, like captured moonlight. "They'll be perfect," she replied, placing them gently into their basket. Vignette nods, handing over a silver coin to the vendor, who accepted it with a tired smile before wrapping the carrots and mushrooms in a soft cloth made of enchanted frost. They moved on through the market, the hum of quiet conversations and the distant ringing of fae wind chimes following them.

As they walked, Vignette's gaze flits over the other stalls, some still under repair, others with their goods displayed carefully in the biting cold. The air smelled faintly of pine and snow, with a hint of spices from a nearby stall selling enchanted drinks. Despite the market's weariness, there was so much life - faint laughter, the warmth of shared glances between fae who have survived too much, and the slow return of normal routines.

Vignette tugged her scarf tighter around her neck, casting a sideways glance at Tourmaline. There was something in the way she moved—a quiet contentment that made Vignette's heart stir. Tourmaline's eyes had been softer lately, the lingering edge of pain they had both carried slowly fading into the background as the days passed.