Home for the Few - The Awakening of the Silenced Ⅰ

XVII. The right to have fun.

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   The snow fell gently over the crooked rooftops and cobblestones of the winding streets, blanketing the night in white. A beautiful woman walked leisurely, acquainting herself with the city and its cold. She enjoyed the sense of peace and silence created that night by the snow and the deserted streets. Most people seemed to have gone to bed early; few establishments were open at that hour in such weather, and those that were had only a handful of occupied tables. Their patrons sought nothing more than relaxation.

   Dressed in a moss-green gown, black boots, and a white fur coat, she gazed at the stars on her way to a tavern a friend had recommended. She paused for a few moments to look at the market stalls, all of them closed. Pure silence, interrupted only by a few chirping birds. She turned left, climbed the stairs to the main square. At the far end, she could see the tavern, The Well of Mead. She circled the large cherry tree at a leisurely pace, watching as pink blossoms fell to the ground and swirled in playful eddies. The waning crescent moon glowed behind the castle. On the tree's branches, swallows watched her intently, fluttering their small wings to shake off the snow.

   She stopped for a second to look at The Palace of the Foxes, shrouded in snow and fading into the clouds, when a staggering man grabbed her arm, babbling incoherently and forming puffs of vapor with his breath. She didn't move, watching him struggle as he tried to drag her to his home. The drunkard grew angry, but she offered him a smile. He returned it. Without letting her smile fade, the woman struck him in the throat, then in the stomach. The man collapsed to the ground in pain, gasping for air as the beautiful woman watched him. The swallows sang.

   She adjusted her coat, turned around, and continued her walk to the tavern as if nothing had happened. At the entrance, a handsome man with long hair tied back in a casual bun, a sturdy frame, and a gentle appearance smoked a cigar. Amused, he watched her.

   "I was going to offer you help, but I see you can handle things on your own," said the stranger, exhaling smoke through his nose. She simply looked at him and pushed the door open, but paused when he offered her a puff of his aromatic cigar, scented with tobacco and chocolate.

   "I came to unwind," she said, accepting the invitation. She took a couple of puffs before handing it back. "I'm not here to socialize; I just want to enjoy my own company and forget my responsibilities, at least for tonight."

   "Of course, everyone deserves to have some fun now and then," he replied, extinguishing the cigar against the wall and placing it in a case. Then, he stood beside her and offered her his arm.

   After openly analyzing him, she entwined her arm with his, and together they entered the nearly empty tavern.

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   The sun began to break through the horizon, melting some of the snow. Young boys headed off to their respective schools, laden with books, coats, and canteens filled with warm infusions.  Their parents made their way to the port, the market, or their respective workplaces. Girls went out onto the streets with shovels, clearing pathways as carts sped past them, shouting obscenities.

   On the outskirts of the city, where the White Pine Forest blended with the last houses, there stood an old barn recently converted into an inn, called "The Barn of the Sleeping Trees." It had only a few rooms, with hay beds on the floor and high, cobwebbed ceilings, but it made up for it with a hearty breakfast included in the price. In one of the rooms, the man and the woman slept naked, tangled in white sheets embroidered with gray clouds. Tousled hair and tired muscles.

   Outside, the sounds of the day began. The woman sat up, rubbing her eyes. She looked to her left and smiled at the man's back, the man with whom she had spent a wonderful night. His back was speckled with moles, like flowers in a meadow. She got to her feet, slipped on her socks and shirt, and gathered the rest of her clothes from the floor. The long-haired man woke up and looked at her with a broad smile, which she returned.

   "Leaving already?" the man whispered, memorizing each of her features, saddened by her departure. He sat up in the bed, leaning against the wall, and lit a fresh cigar.

   "Having the right to fun is nice, but I still have responsibilities," she said as she finished adjusting her green dress and slipped on her black boots.

   He let out a laugh that warmed the woman's heart. Smiling, she stepped closer to the bed and looked at him.

   "By the way, I like the tattoo on your back. The Gods know I had a good view of it..." he said seductively, pushing his cigar aside as she knelt on the bed, their faces now separated by only a few inches. The woman laughed, covering her face with one hand as memories of the previous night flooded back. He pulled her by the waist, bringing her closer, their foreheads touching. In a whisper, he asked, "Will we see each other again?"

   "Count on it," she replied, smiling as she held his face in her hands, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "Sao, by the way."

   "Vilkas," he answered, smiling as he returned the kiss, drawing their bodies even closer.

   They both chuckled softly, dreaming of the possibilities.

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