|
MIDWINTER MAGIC: SEVEN
Arista finished locking the door to her mother's workroom and sauntered over to the bar in the firehall, again hiding the pin in her long flame red hair. Her back was turned so she didn't see Jera appear in the garden doorway, seemingly blown in by a soft breeze. The elf woman drew off the hood of her cloak and made her own way to the bar for her usual transactions with Lumiere, depositing her herbs for sale and awaiting his assessment and payment. She smiled and cheerfully addressed the young redhead near her, the spitting image of her mother, "Lady Arista! Pleased to see you." A bright smile responded, "Lady Jera! I just came back from visiting Wallace." "Aye? And how fares our wee friend? Still sampling at your mother's crops?" "Aye M'Lady, but not so much. I introduced him to a friend." "A friend? Surely not another caterpillar having lost his way." "Nay, Lady Jera, but a wee ladybug. Pretty thing too. I named her Larissa." "How sweet. Ladybugs are precious to see and invaluable in a garden. I'm sure she and Wallace will get along nicely. I do wonder if he is thinking on how to proceed from where he is." "Well, he might be considering... something... as odd as that seems. It was as if Larissa was... talking to him." Arista shook her head, thinking how silly that must sound, two insects talking. Seeing the girl's concern, Jera tried to help her set it aside. "Hmm... I doubt it not. Just because we are not privy to all the talk within nature does not mean it cannot go on. They likely think we make useless noises." She grinned and truly believed that this is a possibility. Arista thought on this a moment, then smiled softly, "I have learned not to doubt you, or Da, or Uncle Ashe, or my siblings when it comes to the workings of nature. We'll just have to see if Larissa taught Wallace anything, I guess." "Why take my word or that of others? Seems to me that you yourself may have witnessed such communication. If something comes of it, then you will know that you too have a sense of these things that many do not have." Jera reached over to run her fingertip along the smooth crest of the girl's ear. "And it is not dependent on your race, but your attention." With a nod and a warm smile, Arista was beginning to accept this. "You sound like my friend Kimpo." "Kimpo... Ah yes, Ashe and I were speaking with that one just the other eve. He seems a reasonable fellow." "I have gotten some very good advice today, Lady Jera, and I think that I will just be happy that I am me. Because, I am just what I am supposed to be, the same as Wallace, or Larissa, or Shane, or Kimpo... or You." Jera was ever so pleased to hear the girl say so. "Do that... and you will be far ahead of the crowd, for most seem to find fault with themselves far too easily." "Oh, I'm well aware of my faults, but I think it could be much worse. I am who I am. That is all I can be." Bending to speak more directly to Arista, as the human girl was very much shorter than the tall elven woman, Jera's hand slipped out and long pale fingers lightly brushed the girl's cheek. "In this world and all others, in all the planes, at any time in all of Time... there has ever been and will only ever be... one you. It is impossible for you to fail at that. You just make the best of it." Arista smiled and nodded as she looked up at her friend, "Aye, M'Lady Jera. I shall. Have I told you how happy I am to be your friend?" "And I you, M'Lady Arista." The girl could not resist hugging Jera warmly. It had been a day of growing for Arista, but as always these things are two steps forward and one step back. For now though, Arista found herself on pretty solid emotional ground. For Jera, the child was a reminder of her own youthful days as well as some lingering doubts. But such a refresher helped her restore perspective. ~~~ Upon Arista's next visit to her mother's workroom, some days later, a surprise awaited her. It seems that Wallace had spun quite steadily, once he got the hang of it. Arista suddenly came tearing into the firehall from the workroom. The door closed behind her with a heavy THUD while the girl skidded to a halt, green eyes darting about, hair flying as her head swung to and fro, searching for something... or more importantly someone. She muttered words in elven, picked up from Uncle Ashe and her father, no doubt to express her frustration. "Ed' i'ear ar' elenea!" And then the redhead went tearing off toward the door, obviously not finding what or whom she sought. Persons gathered within the firehall took note of the girl's seeming panic. Lady Ehlana, tending to the recovering Ascellon, could only blink as the girl ran past leaving no real clue as to her discomfiture. The harpist/huntress Ariadne, her elven bard friend Benottin, and her long time friend, Rachel, looked up from their conversation. Rachel was the first to comment, "What can be the cause of that?" Arista sped outside, grabbing her cloak on the way. She took the path through the woods, perhaps she'd find there the only thing she wished to find this autumn night. Benottin's elven gaze held even after Arista had left. "Whatever could be the matter I wonder?" Still trying to determine the same thing, Rachel noted, "Not sure, although, is she not one of the Blackthorn children?" Not knowing, Benottin merely shrugged, as he was rather new to Camelot and hadn't met all of the people in this realm yet. However, Ariadne seemed to know, "Ian Blackthorn's daughter..." she murmured, idly. Her interest was being drawn by the attention of the bard now turned to her. Rachel was a bit less than comfortable with the harpist and the bard, not minding their affection, but feeling perhaps she should not be sitting so close to it. She kept her focus on the girl, though she was now long from sight. "Well then, if we recognized her then surely the guards will as well. I trust she'll not be allowed to fall to harm." Arista had no success at finding Jera and finally wore herself out looking. She returned late to Blackthorn Manor and was thankfully tired enough to sleep. However, the next evening, after anxiously finishing her daily chores and managing to escape the watchful eye of her mother, Arista had to return to the greenhouse. She had to. Maybe she had not seen what she'd thought. Maybe Wallace was there still and she'd missed him... or maybe the magic, Wallace's magic, really was happening. She entered her mother's workroom, deftly opening the lock, and slipped inside, silent as a shadow. With great stealth, Arista went back to the little greenhouse, lit a lantern and peered under the leaf, her eyes alighting on the treasure hanging there, a homespun cocoon. She studied it intently... as if taking measure, comparing... Was it larger? Smaller? Different in color? And where was Jera? The girl was still anxious to share this latest development with her. Arista gave one last look at the treasure under the leaf, then retraced her steps, blowing out the lantern and slipping out of the workroom, locking the door behind her. She crossed the firehall to the hearth and sat there near the crackling flames. Her young mind was working although her body was quietly still. She rested her chin upon her knees, legs pulled to her chest, arms wrapped around those coltish limbs as the leaf green depths of her eyes watched the dancing flames. Lady Marty hobbled into the firehall and Arista looked up, hoping to see Jera. But instead of disappointment, her eyes showed concern and a banked delight at seeing one of her favorite Ladies of Camelot. She scrambled to her feet, the young teen's movements still gawky as she continued to grow into womanhood. "Lady Marty? Be ye alright?" "I am fine." Marty assured her, though she had a definite limp. "I just stumbled a bit on the way here and pulled a muscle in my leg." Arista frowned slightly, the gesture was so much her mother it was uncanny. "Let me get you something please.. a tea? A water? Anything, at all?" Without waiting for a reply the young redhead hustled over to the bar and asked the bartender for a tea. It took a few moments for Lumiere to brew up a special cup for the Lady Marty but soon it was pressed into the girl’s hands. Turning, Arista put a smile on as she made her way to where Marty had been standing. But alas, the lady had gone. A frown marred Ari’s fine brow… Lady Marty hadn’t even gotten her tea, and she should be off her feet! Arista sighed. This whole day had seemed fraught with fits and starts. She hadn't seen any sign of Jera or her Uncle Ashe, so she had been unable to deliver her news about Wallace. And, she couldn't even deliver a cup of tea properly, she thought. Returning the cup to Lumiere with an apologetic glance, she dusted off her leggings and ambled outside toward home. Her pace was a bit trudging at first but it began to pick up. Arista thought again upon the cocoon in the solarium. At least SHE knew what Wallace had done and maybe things really could change and be more than they seemed at the start. Maybe... maybe she could be more. Her step was lighter by the time she reached home. Yes, the fire of magic, and hope still burned in her heart. END SEVEN © 2002 DP & SO along with all other participants ~ This and other stories may be found at Willow's End |