Atlantic Roleplay Community Boards

[Paytience]

---

"Knock, Knock, Knock." The words and the sound echoed in unison as she swung open the door to Christopher's room. Bright green eyes greeted her as if he had known all along she would walk through that door. Little legs swung off the adult sized bed that occupied the space and came running towards her.

"Aunt Pay! I knew you'd see me first." Wrapping his arms around her neck he locked his hands in her jet black hair and held on. Moving him with her to a sitting position she sat him down and tilted her head in confusion.

"What do you mean first?" The softness in her tone skimmed the surface of her feelings.

"Before you leave." There was nothing she could say in retort to that. Arahim hadn't had enough time to get home yet. In fact she had made a beeline here in an effort to speed things up. "You don't have to go you know. It's all here." At that she tilted her head even farther in his direction and leaned in to tousle is reddish-brown hair.

"I can't find what I need here. I'll come back though when I'm done." She tried to issue reassurance into her voice. No matter what lay out there she knew in her heart she would have to come back. Even if they weren't family there were as close as she had known and leaving them for good wasn't an option.

Christopher matched the tilt of her head then and squeezed his hand into hers, giving her a knowing look. "You won't be gone long." With a sigh that was half hope and half faith, which she had never before had, she kissed the top of his head and whispered goodbye. The Sun hung low on the horizon line as she summoned the ethereal and mounted up.

[Paytience]

---

Gypsy camps across Sosaria were pop-up and sporadic at best. The only stationary camps were those in Minoc and spread through Ilshenar. While the inner voice told her to try Ilshenar first, it was the feeling in Minoc she went after instead.

Standing there in that tent with Arahim had sparked something. Even prior to the barbs with his acquaintance, there had been a “feeling”, something she couldn't put a finger on. With the lights dimming and the cauldron fire's snuffed out she approached with caution. Conversation had never been something she was good at. Mostly because that required actually communicating with someone else.

From the edge of the camp, Kent stood, silently watching. Emilio scurrying around his feet he lazed against a tree giving her the room she needed. At that moment Paytience could have had all of Sosaria for room and still not felt comfortable. Slowly she went over the names of her parents and questioned the camp occupants. An odd look came over their faces as if she had grown two heads.

“Miss, you're in the wrong camp. Cove or Ilshenar is where you'll find your answers.”

A frown creased her brows then. She'd been to Cove many many times but had never asked anything even remotely close to who these people were. Her eyes darted back and forth in thought. Cove was where her job had taken her. Cove was surrounded by water. And Ilshenar..

She'd been at Ilshenar for months now. Those looks.. the way they reached out when she wasn't looking or couldn't back away fast enough. But if Ilshenar was really an answer why hadn't he...

Hollering at Kent over her shoulder, her voice was gruff and tinged with a curiosity and sadness she was barely holding back. “Next time, just tell me to follow my goddamn gut.”

[Paytience]

---

Paytience stood over the grave silently toying with the Ankh necklace Arahim had given her. Something all Gypsies wore, at the time it was gifted neither of them knew where or how she fit into that mix. Twirling it nervously around her hand she listened to the hustle and bustle of the Ilshenar Compassion camp behind her. The black smoke that so often arose when lunch was placed over the burning embers of the fire drifted high into the sky letting the north-west breeze catch it and keep it tentatively in its grasp.

She had told him she needed to take a shift with Chad. But the more steps away from the stone building of the Crossroads, the less she felt like dealing with Boobs antics. The morning's conversation replayed in her thoughts.

“Was it bad for you?” His tone was quiet but probing. His dark eyes lingered on hers, catching her fully. She didn't respond and tried to look down but his head went with her and their gaze stayed connected. He knew full good and well she was dodging. And when he finally spoke again it was tinged with sadness and something she couldn't quite place her finger on. “It was bad for me.”

His words struck her squarely in the heart as if the tip of her poison kryss had been placed within her instead of in her hand. She didn't have it in her now to tell him what life was like with the Fawn's. Somehow she got the impression nothing she could say would even come close.

They fell into an uneasy silence then as they rode side by side. Periodically Glowian would whinny and neigh as if commenting on their pace, but for the most part seemed to remain happy to have the exercise. She herself had given up on flesh and blood horses about the time she was naming her fifteenth one and had settled instead for an ethereal Ki-rin.

Reaching across the distance in an effort to bridge the gap of time she heard him ask, “Did they love you?”

She paused with her head down. “They treated me well.” It wasn't what he asked and the series of questions that followed were responded to the same way, her giving a partial answer but not a whole one.

The final question came as a, “Do you love them?”

She looked him in the eye then and quit fidgeting. “No.” It was calm, it was honest and though she could tell he didn't believe her, it must have sufficed because he stopped asking.

[Arahim]

---

Dried rose petals cautiously held in one hand is what Arahim likened his time with Paytience to.

Held too loose, and reds and pale pinks catch upon the day's breeze, and scatter.

Too tight, and dust.

He had brought her into a larger world without her askance, and now he wondered if she did not resent him for it. For in every movement, and for every clipped answer, he watched her cinch up her armor, and chain herself to the things she found most comforting, and accustomed to.

And yet for all her brass, and need to stand alone upon her own two feet, he knew, Paytience would not be parted from him no matter the cause. In this did Arahim take quiet solace, for if nothing else, he had given a sister he had never known to take breath from Life, a reason to be.

He promised himself, under the heavy summer leaves of gold and green, as they two rode in silence from Cove, he would give her more in time.

[Paytience]

---

“I really wish you'd stay with us. I can always build another room.” Her older Brother's voice was soft and patient. Beneath she could almost feel the current tugging at her.

He'd brought it up a few times now today once more. Although this time he said it and let it lie between them. Longing, worn down to a smooth surface after years beating away at it like the river does to a creek bed, lodged in her throat. Part of her ached to accept.

Laughter cruel and precise reverberated in her heart. “Paytience, people exist to be used and discarded. And eventually they will discard you just as easily.” Kesla Fawn's voice had echoed in the dining hall like fine crystal tinging at the banquet halls her parents frequented. Practiced and exaggerated by the narrowing of her brilliant blue eyes, Kesla Fawns' was the little voice telling her that even if she did accept Arahim's offer, it was never going to work. Getting too close, letting them too far in was the same as offering yourself up for sacrifice. Wasn't it? “They are tools, Paytience. Use -them-, and allow yourself to be used. That's how the world works.”

Bile, slick and yellow rose in her throat then. She wouldn't do that to them. And using his invitation to stay, the affection Christopher had for her, to fill the void that had existed for so long was giving in. So the hole would have to stay, it wasn't worth the risk of letting them that far in. She was raised by Fawn's, and that meant that somewhere within her that manipulation existed. “Over my dead body,” she whispered as the tears beckoned from behind their dark gates. No, she wouldn't use them to heal her heart.