The sun is well over the hills by the time Rastellion makes it back from Bree town to Zandrianna's house. It's one of those mild winter mornings, and the damp chill of the previous two days on the road seems a distant memory in today’s clear air and bright light. Birds trill at each other in approval of the weather, but he scarcely notices as he strides along the road and turns in at the gate. Immalaine's going to be so happy! Her home is hers again! He hurries up the stairs knocks at the door, unable to keep the smile off his face.
Merry bustles over to the door to answer it. After being up most of the night with the baby, Zandrianna – after repeated nagging – has taken Rossiath’s sleeping drought and now lies insensate on her bed. “Don’t expect her to rouse for at least twelve hours,” Rossi had warned the previous night. Merry opens the door and grins. “Hello Mister Rastellion," she says, waving him inside. "You've come just in time. Immalaine has promised to make muffins as soon as she's up and dressed!"
Rastellion steps inside, turning his smile on the young woman. "Muffins? Well, Merry, you're in for a treat, if you haven't had Immalaine’s muffins before." He move to the central table, then to the hearth, then around the room, unable to keep still in his eager excitement. "She's just getting up then? I'm glad she got some sleep - she wasn't feeling well on the trip." His grin spreads. "I can promise she'll be feeling even better soon!"
With a grin, Merry watches the man pace the floor excitedly, then she heads to the pantry to start making coffee. "She seemed to be feeling just fine when she woke up this morning," the girl chatted. "Can't say about last night, she was already in bed when I arrived. Mrs. Rossiath sent me over, saying Zandrianna would need help tending the baby, as she'd be sleeping pretty hard for awhile." She turns and, whistling to herself, she goes outside to fetch a bucket of water from the well, just as Immalaine comes out of her room, hairbrush still in her hand.
Seeing Rastellion in the common room, Immalaine pauses and watches him, a tentative smile creeping across her face despite the nagging worry she feels at his arrival. She's spent the whole morning, trying to think of a way to apologize to Rastellion for making him mad, and to assure him that the loss of her farm didn't bother her too much. Maybe now they can forget about her past – all of her past – and move on with their lives. Still working on an idea to make him a special meal, she clears her throat. "Hello, Rastellion."
Rastellion turns at her voice and smiles. "Immalaine!" He takes a step toward her, then hesitates, suddenly unsure of himself, knowing that she's still upset with him. But the smile on her lips suggests otherwise, and so he continues the few paces across the room to her.
Looking up at him, she studies his expression, which seems much less angry than the day before, and inwardly sighs in relief. She reaches out with her free hand to brush a stray hair from his face, then shyly giving him a hug. "I hope ye were able t' sleep well last night," she says, before stepping back to begin brushing the tangles from her auburn locks.
Sensing her slight hesitation, Rastellion lets her go after the brief embrace. Of course, he thinks, she's still upset, but putting a brave front on it. That’s so like her. He takes her free hand and pulls her toward the nearby table. "C'mere," he urges, excitement leaking into his voice. "I've got something to show you."
Squeaking in surprise as he pulls her with him, she almost drops her brush. "Rastellion, what are you up to?" she says, her voice caught between a giggle and fond exasperation. "You seem right excited today," she adds, as she comes to a stop at the edge of the desk.
He takes a deep breath. "I know you're upset over the loss of your farm, and it was my fault we left so late yesterday..." He holds up a hand to forestall her as she starts to reply. "But, Immalaine ... it's okay! Look!" With a flourish, he pulls out the fresh copy of the deed that Bonnie prepared that morning and spreads it on the table. "I got them to accept the affidavit and remove the property from auction! The farm is yours!" He looks up to meet her eyes, his delighted grin breaking out again. "We did it!"
Looking down at the seal-embossed parchment, Immalaine doesn't fully register what he says for several seconds. Finally, as her brain catches up with the words, she begins to tremble. The deed to her home ... which meant that she had failed. Failed to do as he had instructed her. And he was not a forgiving man! Which meant… which meant he’d do what he threatened. Find Rastellion and tell him the things she hadn't wanted him to know, all the horrible things she'd been forced to do in order to stay alive. A pair of pale eyes flashes in her mind, cruelly mocking her, as yesterday’s hopes shatter. 'No!' a woman's voice screams in the back of her head, echoing through the room… and she realizes that woman was herself, that she'd cried aloud.
Rastellion retreats several steps, shocked by the sudden cry and the angry look on Immalaine's face. The smile on his lips freezes, then slides away, replaced by a rictus of confusion and hurt. "Immalaine, what's wrong?" he asks, as the door bangs open and Merry comes hurrying back in, her bucket sloshing water onto the floor. Rastellion steps gingerly back towards Immalaine. She must have misunderstood, he reasons to himself. "Immalaine... it's okay - don't you see? I didn't buy the property, if that's what you’re thinking. No one bought it - it never went up to sale. They accepted the affidavit! This is what we wanted; it’s yours!... It means ... we can ... together ..." His voice trails off as he registers that Immalaine's look of shock and anger - and rejection? - is deepening, not clearing, at the explanation. "Immalaine?"
She shakes her head in disbelief as sound of her heartbeat pounds in her ears. 'Never went for sale ...' she thought to herself. Then he already, surely. The panic in her eyes deepens, tainted with a growing despair. The sound of her hairbrush hitting the floor makes her jump and she looks from the paper into Rastellion's eyes. "What have you done?" she whispers, stepping back from him.
Rastellion stares back, bewildered. "I've saved your property... Immalaine, don't you understand?” He looks toward Merry, who seems as bewildered as he, then back to Immalaine, and spreads his hands, helplessly, confused, as she continues to retreat from him - the happy images from his earlier daydreams cracking and tumbling to shatter like icicles slipping from snow-weeping trees. "Now we ... can ..." His voice falters at the agony and despair that burn from her eyes.
Her eyes darting back down to the deed, and then up to Rastellion's face, she feels the walls closing in on her. Panic welling in her chest, she tries to breathe through the pain; 'he'll find out ... I need to tell him ... I can't ... I have no choice ... he'll hate me ... he'll find out anyways ...' The voice in her head mocks her, echoing all her fears of the last few days at once, as she begins to cry. "No ... I ... I can't ... I ... go, Rastellion. Jus' ... jus' go!" Her voice rises with each word as she attempts to speak over her sobbing, ending in a shout before she turns and flees to the safety of her bedchambers, slamming the door behind her.
Rastellion stares after her, his mouth slightly open, her last words ringing in his head like thunder amid mountain peaks. "Go. Just go." After everything he has done... He clenches his hands to keep them from trembling, shuts his mouth, blinks several times to clear his eyes. He turns slowly to Merry and steps toward the open door behind her.
"I can ... see I'm no longer wanted here," Rastellion says, quietly, the words falling flat and lifeless. "If you'll excuse me, I'll be heading back to Bree now. I have work there I should be seeing to."
He strides past Merry, not meeting her compassionate eyes, and out into the lane. His thoughts are oddly clear and numb. He wonders if this is what it feels like to lose a limb in battle: no pain at first, just a numbed emptiness. He’s heard it described that way.
So. Home to get his cloak - forgotten in the rush this morning - and then off to the trading house, to deal with the Association's business, work he's been neglecting of late. Neglecting so that he can... His mind shies away from the thought. No. Cloak. Breakfast. Work. That's enough to be getting on with.
As Rastellion turns and heads down the next lane, a tall figure, leaning against a nearby wall, watches him go. The man glances back at Zandrianna's house, a slight smile playing across his full lips as he fixes its location in his mind. Then turns and follows Rastellion at a distance, moving with no more noise than a dagger slipping from its sheath.
(Credits and love go to Rastellion, who provided the voice of the male characters in this story. *Blows kisses to Rastellion and grins widely*)
((I would like to take a moment to give a very special thank you to Rastellion for putting up with me last night, as this was the hardest, most painful scene we've ever done together. I could not have finished it without his help - literally. So thank you Rastellion, and forgive any errors I missed because honestly? I can't bring myself to ever read this again.))
(c)2015 by Immalaine and Rastellion
