Silence in Sagas

1

It was a lie when they smiled/and said you won't feel a thing.

                                                                            - Disenchanted by My Chemical Romance

Oliwa sat on the ridge of the castle's roof and let the darkness engulf and devour her. She'd missed the sunset that evening--now there was only the dark night left. There were a few stars, but they were hopeless and sad things; too tiny and insignificant to matter.

This was the last night, she thought. This was the last night she'd see the stars from this particular little patch of the torn world, and that made her legs feel even heavier. It wouldn't be difficult to let them weigh her down—let them drag her body to slide down the steep castle-roof. The dense sound her flaccid body would make when it hit the ground--

Embers of unease flared in her chest, and Oliwa vigorously shook her head free from such thoughts.

She was in charge of her own actions. There was no need to be silly.

A thump made Oliwa spin around to look at the window that creaked open, and a small figure clad in a coat stepped onto the ridge of the roof.  Oliwa had been dreading this moment. Regardless of how many times she told herself that it was just Willa, it didn't work. Oliwa had started thinking that this might feel as difficult to her as it did because it was Willa.

The window shut behind Willa, and she approached Oliwa. Her elegant gait could have made her pass for a Queenling with ease.

The smell of damp night mixed with one of red apples as Willa's coat swished by Oliwa when she dumped down beside her.  "Hey you, Queen Prisilline-Saja the Fifth of Rowenderfelth," Willa said into the night with an over-exaggerated and thick accent, attempting an impression of a duke.

Oliwa snickered. Two could play that game. "Hello to you too... Almighty Hunter of the Hunt."

Willa didn't looked unimpressed and feigned a pout. "S'that really all you've got?"

Oliwa looked at her friends, and her eyes quickly fell upon the frizzy hair sticking out under her hood. A wicked grin found its way to her face. "But oh, Willania - what is it that you've done?" She put the back of her hand on her forehead and tipped her head back, thinking of the way the dramatic court ladies looked at her whenever she'd behaved 'improperly.'  She turned to Willa. "Your hair, it is all messed up! Do not tell me you got busy in the heather--not again!"

Willa sat still before she made a grimace in order to mask her growing smile, but it failed, and she cracked up. "Okay, that was a good one." She played with the ends of an unevenly cut chunk of hair. It would've made the Court Ladies scream.

"Don't you have another word for 'heather' in one of your fancy-schmancy languages that you're gonna preach about?" Willa asked.

Oliwa bumped her friend's shoulder, fully knowing she didn't dislike her nerdiness as much as she might let on. "It is called Calluna vulgaris. I just made it more Willa-friendly."

"Why, thank you," said Willa with a smile.

She turned to watch the stars and Oliwa followed suit. Their minds were wandering, but Oliwa couldn't concentrate. All of the untouched subjects lay ahead of them and made it difficult to focus on much else.