Chapter VII

Rose is narrating for a bit - and she has a new routine at Bird's Hollow. Along with three dates. Hmm...

Chapter VII

 Old Habits

 

“How can you remain staring at the rain?

Maddened by the stars? How is it you sing anything?”

-      Green Finch and Linnet Bird © Sweeny Todd

 

Rafe was mad at me. I knew it, even as I slept off the effects of no food and too much healing in one day.

     I woke slowly. My eyes fluttered open and I took in my surroundings, hesitantly. My body didn’t ache, which was a good sign. The healing, botched as it was considering I was doing it through a complete novice, had gone well. I felt bad for a moment at the thought; I had a habit of thinking critically of Rafe. It wasn’t his fault, really, that he had no idea how to channel magic. It had been rather difficult. His Root was so heavily blocked. The process of transferring magic was simple in theory, but difficult enough when dealing with someone with open channels.

     The fact that Rafe felt like pushing a twig through steel made the process exhausting, instead of just irritating.

     Sitting up hesitantly, I saw him watching me. He had just finished tying off his boots and was giving me the same cold look he had in the clearing. It chilled my spine to get that look from him. Despite not being able to read his thoughts or exact emotions, that look seemed to be saved for moments of extreme anger. Helplessly, I murmured, “I’m sorry, Rafe.”

     “What’s to be sorry for?” His voice was biting and made of icy steel. There was no relief in that tone at all; he was all business and all angry.

     I winced, looking away from him and letting my hair hide my face as I bit back, hurt, “Forget it.” Without a word, he seemed to do just that, because before I could look back at him, the door had slammed violently shut and he was gone.

     Raphael did one thing better than any other man I’d known in my life; confused me. Most men, when presented with the response “forget it” wouldn’t forget a damn thing, but would have gotten horrendously angry. But I could handle that anger, because I expected it, and I knew how to dance around it until they were backed into a corner; that corner being the one I needed to talk rationality and sense into them. With Rafe, I didn’t know how to react. He didn’t yell or even stick around to respond once. He didn’t try to get the last word. He didn’t even care enough to wait to see if he’d made me cry �" which he very nearly did with that sudden iron cold.

     Instead, he’d simply left.

     Men on the White Isle were like men you found anywhere, forgetting the higher regard for which they held a woman’s authority. This land was strange to me. I was used to a certain amount of respect, and here, I was fighting tooth and nail to get my only ally to listen to me, much less the rest of the world.

     At this point, I wasn’t even sure if I had an ally anymore.

     That thought hit me suddenly and hard in the center of my chest. Did I have any allies in this country? I was alone when I got here. That had been more than enough to terrify me. Sitting in the bed, blankets clutched to my chest, I felt slightly panicked.

     Of course, I immediately felt stupid. Shoving the thought away, I muttered to myself, “Get it together, woman. He’s a chance to move around. This wasn’t supposed to last forever.” Sighing, I muttered again, “I’m supposed to be gone by now.”

     My original plan was to slip off when he fell asleep at the last inn we came across and be out of his hair. However, things had not gone as planned. Aware as I am that neither of us is ever safe in the open, seeing the Guard had killed any chance of Rafe going peacefully to sleep for the night. I’d considered not telling him about the men, but then that one had cornered me on my way upstairs. The lecherous look had made me so nervous that I’d had to tell Rafe �" who, to my horror, had become in a short amount of time… important.

     For a moment, I put my head in my hands and sighed heavily. This was not the plan. I was in the middle of some rebel base, bunking up with a man I hardly knew, and that man now knew that I could use magic. Nothing was going right. I’d planned to be indifferent, distant, but kind. I’d hoped to make quick but not close friends that would be helpful for the time we were together and then I would move on. I’d never had any friends in my life. It was supposed to have been an easy task.

     Somehow, though, Rafe had yet again made everything I wanted completely impossible. Upon being tackled in the woods and then rescued, I had expected him to get me out of the area and safely away. I expected to be taken to his home and offered very temporary shelter. I had expected him to agree to take me on this trip but I had not expected to actually reach the destination with him.

     It was so difficult for me to trust him because of how closed off he likes to be. I kept thinking on that as I got up, getting into the white dress I still had. It was the last clean thing I owned. However, there was a tear in the right sleeve, and I sighed. By some miracle, I’d managed to keep my right shoulder and bicep hidden from Rafe. The makeup I had to apply every time Rafe went to sleep was fading though, and between sweat, baths, and the sleeve of my clothes, I had to constantly touch it up. Checking the small round case, I saw that I didn’t even have enough to cover two inches of skin.

     “Damn it,” I murmured. The tattoo glowed whenever I used magic and several other times throughout the day. It was an obvious thing. Either I covered it up with the makeup I’d brought from home, never wore short sleeves, or I would just have to show the world.

     The dress I had did have long sleeves, but the black tattoos would easily make the white fabric brighten oddly. I decided for now to simply avoid any magic usage. I needed to buy new clothes.

     Pulling on my boots, I glanced at the clock on the wall. I’d been wallowing in stupid thoughts for an hour now. Shoving them aside, I refused to think on it at all anymore.

     I stepped tentatively out of the makeshift house… and into a tree-top wonderland.

     The view was absolutely stunning. It was just after dawn and the sun shone beautifully from the tops of the trees and cast wonderful little rays of light all over. Unable to help but smile, I ran a hand through my hair. Everything was just so gorgeous.

     “I’m glad to see someone appreciates the beauty of the morning,” a deep voice said off to my right. Jumping in surprise, I turned to see a tall man with short light brown hair, kind muddy eyes, and a lean build smiling at me. He was shorter than Rafe by a full two or three inches at least, because I was very nearly eye level with him. With Rafe, I was always looking up. His shoulders weren’t as broad and he was thinner but he was handsome. He looked more like a diplomat than a warrior.

     Nervously, I admitted, “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

     “Not many have,” he agreed with a laugh. I just gave a tiny awkward smile in reply, glancing about until I heard him speak again, “Actually, I’m to bring you to the infirmary. I’m told you have a hand at real healing.” The smile on my face melted and was replaced with a look of solemnity, eyes meeting his steadily. I didn’t speak but rather gestured that he led the way. Three minutes into the walk, he told me, “I don’t think it’s bad that you use magic, Miss Rose.” 

          I still didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Finally, with a bit of coldness that I hadn’t intended, I stated rather than asked, “You don’t trust me, though.”

     He stiffened, as if I’d hit a nerve he’d hoped to keep hidden. I saw six trunks in a small closed circle. Instead of being hollowed out, I noticed that some of the trees had walls built around them with flat roofs to keep out the rain. The infirmary was much larger than I expected, but I took this as a good sign as I stepped inside, leaving the man behind.

     A portly woman with blond curls and a kind round face spotted me and beamed. “Oh good, you’re here! Right then, let’s get you to work.” She grabbed my hand and introduced herself as Mrs. Hogan. Efficient, polite, and firm, she was definitely the woman to be running an infirmary.

     My first task was to help set the broken bones of several men who had recently been injured in an attempted raid on Barrack Nine. The men didn’t know me much yet, and didn’t talk to me about it, and I didn’t ask. Thinking about the raid sent my mind back to the conversation with Derek and Rafe when we’d talked about coming here. Then I remembered that I’d already told Rafe one thing about myself; and I’d completely forgotten.

     He knew that there was something I had that those men wanted. He just didn’t know what it was. Now that he knew I could use magic, I imagined he’d want more answers about that. Thankfully, he was mad at me and wouldn’t be asking any time soon.

     “We could have won,” the man in front of me said. I glanced up from my thoughts, confused. I was stitching a gash in his arm. “The raid, I mean; we almost had it. Someone gave us away. They knew we were coming.”

     “I guess that means Bird’s Hollow needs to solve a rat problem before you worry about trying again,” I suggested.

     He didn’t say anything, but rather asked, “What’s that tattoo on your shoulder?”

     I had also completely forgotten about the rip in my sleeve. Sighing, I paused in my stitching to tug the sleeve down so the hole closed partially. “It’s nothing important.”

     “Is that why you cover it up?” I flushed and he grinned. Older men did tend to catch on faster.

     “It has to do with the magic using,” I admitted slowly. “I don’t like the looks I get when it pulls a light show because I’m casting.”

     “Can I see?” He seemed genuinely curious and not at all disdainful. Hesitantly, I put my hand over the remainder of the gash and closed my eyes. I felt the electric fire shoot through my arm and the burn of the tattoo’s glow. When I opened my eyes, the gash was healed up to the last stitch, meaning I’d cut the wound’s size in half. He smiled and said, “My mother was able to use a bit of magic, but she specialized with herbs �" making them grow faster or even making plants do what she wanted.” He paused. “I remember her making vines strangle one of the guards who tried to take her away when I was a boy.”

     I frowned. “That must have been terrible for you.”

     He nodded. “My father never cried before that night, because she died fighting those guards, rather than be forced to work for that b*****d.”

     I didn’t really need him to clarify who the b*****d had been. I touched his arm and said soothingly, “Where I come from, it is believed that those gifted with magic had a special place in the heart of the Mother. I believe that her sacrifice was rewarded when she took her place in Mother’s garden.”

     The man was older than me, at least forty. His dark hair was graying and he was broadly built with thick muscle. Weathered skin and scars all over, his eyes remained an unimaginably kind grey. “My name is Rose,” I said to him.

     “Call me John,” he replied.

     Smiling, I said, “How long are you here?”

     “Until my leg heals up,” he told me bitterly. Pushing back the cover, he revealed an ugly gnarled gash that laced up the outside of his right leg. I touched it gingerly, trying to feel the fissure of magic so I could heal it. But I was too drained and this job was too much for just me in one sitting. I sighed, giving him a very sad look. I’d wanted to liberate the kind man sooner. He touched my hand and said warmly, “I’m alright, lass. It doesn’t bother me much and no one asks me to do anything more than walk a bit every day.” Glancing at the clock on the wall, he said, “Actually, I’m due for my hour-lap.”

     I offered him my hand and asked, “Would you mind if I accompanied you?”

     As he rose from the bed, slowly but proudly, he offered his arm and said, “Madam, I would be delighted.”

    

     John became a regular part of my routine, along with Mrs. Hogan and the man I met upon leaving the hut �" who I discovered was called Erin. Erin was the resident Haven Courier. He apparently saw Rafe every day and when I asked, didn’t mind telling me honestly that Rafe was still looking rather angry.

     After day three, I stopped caring if he was angry. It was ridiculous, to let it go on his long. We’d somehow managed to fall into a routine that didn’t include being in the same air space for longer than ten minutes. That was an old habit of mine, though. I stopped caring who was mad about what after a time.

     It was a habit I wasn’t likely to break, either.

     I was taking John on his walk two days later when I caught sight of Rafe walking with the fearsome man we’d met upon arriving. I learned he was named Spike. They were so engrossed in talking (or maybe arguing, judging by the looks on their faces) that they didn’t notice me or John. I thought they didn’t, at least. John caught Spike’s eye and saluted with a big grin. Spike, seeing him, came over to greet his friend.

     “John Xander, it’s good to see you walking about! I’m sorry I haven’t been to visit,” Spike insisted sincerely.

     John waved it off though. I avoided looking at Rafe, but instead wiped my palms over the skirt of my new dress. This one was lavender and only had one sleeve. John convinced me to stop hiding the tattoo �" at least while I was here. I explained enough to him that he seemed to understand that it would have to be hidden once we left. The sleeve it did have was short, only going halfway down the bicep. The neckline dropped into a sharp V and the skirt reached my ankles. I had my hair down and it tumbled about my shoulders in a happy bounce today.

     I heard my name and realized that John had introduced me properly to Spike. Smiling at the man, I took his hand and greeted him in return. He saw my tattoo and asked, “That looks like serious inking, Rose. Where’d you get it?”

     Glancing at my shoulder and then John, I shyly admitted, “I grew up on Ithon, you see. When I was sixteen, this tattoo was given to me during the Solstice.”

     “Why was there such specific timing to it?” John had asked that.

     Swallowing, I went on in a still-small voice, “The tattoo helps me channel and control magic. The more magic I use at once, the brighter it’ll glow. It’ll start to really burn when I’m using too much. On the other hand, it amplifies what I can already do.” Feeling awkward, I finished lamely, “It’s easier to explain than I make it seem, really.”

     They just laughed. John told Spike, “Rose tells me that she’s been given several tattoos like that since she turned sixteen.”

     “How old are you now?” Spike asked that time.

     Flushing, I said, “I’m not sure what the custom is here, but where I come from, women are not so shamed to tell their ages, though I’ve heard that being twenty-one and unmarried is a thing of shame.”

     Rafe, in what I felt like was an attempt at mending the rift, commented, “It’s not shameful to have standards.”

     I held his eyes for a moment before agreeing hesitantly, “I don’t think, Raphael, that it’s standards that have kept me unwed so far. I think it’s rather that no man wants a part of me in his life.”

     John scoffed and scolded, “Rose, you’re a beautiful and intelligent girl. Why wouldn’t any man rave to have you? I’d set you up with my son, if I thought he could handle you.”

 

    “That,” I laughed, “is exactly my point, John.”

     Rafe spoke again, hands in his pockets as a very tiny grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “She’s not so difficult once you get the hang of it.”

     “Have you gotten the hang of it, then?” It was a challenge, but I gave it to him smiling. It was good to have him speaking to me again �" I hadn’t realized I’d missed it.

     He shook his head, “No, but I’d like to think I’m close.”

     I patted John’s shoulder saying, “Well, let me know how that goes.” I paused and added, “Mr. Xander here needs to get back to his morning walk to stretch out that bad leg.”

     John waved it away, saying gruffly but not in protest, “I don’t need a thing. I’m just fine.”

     Pushing him into a start, I said, “Yeah, okay, how about I watch and you tell that to Mrs. Hogan.”

     I saw the nervousness in his eyes as he suddenly complied, “Well, I do feel like a walk.”

     I started to walk away with John but Rafe grabbed my wrist. I noticed that John and Spike kept walking in the opposite directions. Rafe held my wrist tight as he said, “You know they did this on purpose so we’d have to talk again.”

     Glancing between Spike and John, I saw them both innocently look back over their shoulders. I just grinned. “John is a sweet old man, but I wish he’d stop trying to meddle.”

     Rafe got my attention by saying, “Spike and I do have things to talk about, but you and I need to settle a few things later. Will you be at the hut or staying late at the infirmary until you think I’ve fallen asleep again?”

     Knowing he was on to me made me flush slightly, but I pretended not to care by saying, “Actually, I’m leaving the infirm early. Erin invited me to go to the big gathering they have every Friday night. He wants to show me the fun half of being at the Hollow.”

     This made Rafe frown. “You know he has a thing for you, right?”

     I rolled my eyes, feeling my wrist get warm with his prolonged grip. “Why do you care if Erin likes me?”

     He narrowed his eyes and said, “I don’t.” I grinned accusingly but he didn’t back down. “I don’t care if he likes you, Rose.”

     Shrugging, I let it go. “Alright, I believe you then.” I looked over my shoulder for John and saw that he’d stopped a good ways ahead to peer in a focused fashion at the fish offered by the vendor.

     Rafe didn’t release my wrist as he said, “After the thing, then, can we talk about things?”

     I looked back at him, a bit sad. “You won’t be there?”

     “No,” he answered, sounding shocked that I thought he would be. He saw the frown and said, “I hate parties, Rose. I don’t like socializing, dancing, or being in a group of strangers.”

     “I’ll be there,” I argued. “Am I a stranger?”

     “Yes, actually,” he replied smoothly. The retort hurt a bit, but I let it go, knowing I deserved it. Seeing the flinch I’d tried to hide, he said a little softer, “Derek isn’t here anyway, and unless he’s here to keep me from drinking too much, I’ll be drunk by the end of the night. That’s never a good thing. I’m a stupid drunk.” He paused, adding, “Or so I’m told.”

     I just laughed. “I don’t recall ever meeting an intelligent drunk.”

     “That’s not my point. I’m not only stupid, but I get mean,” he told me, obviously trying his best to get out of this.

     Frowning, I said, “What if I told you I wouldn’t be in the mood to talk after I got back from all that fun?”

     “I can wait until tomorrow,” he countered.

     “I agreed to stay late tomorrow,” I replied sweetly.

     “Rose.”

     “Raphael.”

     He sighed, finally giving in, “Alright, fine, you win; I’ll go.”

     Giggly, I smiled and said, “Good! Erin wouldn’t have been happy tonight anyway.”

     I could see that he didn’t want to appear curious even as he asked, “Why is that?”

     “I’m bringing John with me; he’s my date,” I told him laughing. “The man hasn’t been out of that infirmary for more than walks in a month. He needs a bit of fun.”

     “You know Erin is expecting to have you alone,” Rafe told me. I could see that he was trying his hardest not to grin at all.

     “That’s too bad, because he’s going to have to share me with John and the handsome Assassin I came with,” I said, surprised with myself for suddenly flirting. He seemed just as surprised, but didn’t comment on it.

     Rafe just shook his head, saying, “You know what?”I cocked a quizzical eyebrow at him as he said, “You’re a tease.”

     “I am not!”

     He released my wrist, which was terribly warm from his large hand, and started to walk away. “Tell that to Erin when you show up with two extra dates,” he tossed over his shoulder.

     He was smug and I could hear the grin in his voice �" but for some stupid reason, I still smiled broadly as I turned to continue my walk with John.

     And for the rest of the day, I couldn’t quite get rid of a tiny trace of a smile. 

Author's Note

IGNORE ALL THE RANDOM " CAFE REPLACES - WITH THEM -- Tell me what you think. (: