hasapoint: an old scarred woman considers (by Anna Akhmatova)
Need (Sister Lashan) ([personal profile] hasapoint) wrote in [community profile] lukeoutbelow2022-06-10 02:56 pm

Do not be afraid of light

They smelled the battlefield long before they saw it. The apprentices and little Sisters who hadn't been on this kind of excursion before covered their noses and exclaimed. Vena didn't. As the child of a camp follower she would know to expect this, but her tread slowed and she looked repeatedly at Sister Lashan, especially as the sound of incredible numbers of crows cawing grew louder.

"Nasty, isn't it? Decay is part of death which is part of life," Lashan said firmly, if not totally without sympathy. How young had she been, the last time she was upset by the aftermath of battle? "There's armies that immediately turn around and sort the living from the dying from the dead and take care of that then and there. Not here, they're leaving it for the locals to handle or not and we're local enough. If you fight, you may well fight for people who'll leave you if you fall and move on. Make sure you at least have friends who'll look for you." They pressed on with their wagon. The donkey put its ears back but did not balk.

It wasn't as bad as it would get over the next few days. The bodies - it was now academic who had belonged to which side of whichever meaningless conflict this was - were not much bloated and decayed yet. Flies were not yet overwhelming. Right now the field of bodies was mostly attended by carrion birds, and various other birds that were willing to take advantage of the bounty before them. Finches among them, tiny beaks dipped red. A few other people could be seen picking their way across what had been a perfectly useable pasture. They kept clear. Lashan tasked girls to keep watch for them anyway, pretended not to see the ones who were being sick, and oversaw as dead men were loaded onto the donkeycart. They'd take them away a distance, say the rites, strip them of useful things, get them buried, and come back.

She paused. Something... like a sound. Not a sound. Lashan was hearing something with her mind, closer than the pickers. A threat? She stood like a sentinel and paid attention.
garmr: (golden age 13)

[personal profile] garmr 2022-06-30 06:55 am (UTC)(link)
And so there we has, holding this pudgy baby, looking mildly perturbed that Kai found his face so unrelentingly fascinating. For his first up-close interaction, Guts wasn't doing poorly at all.

Eventually, he finds a comfortable place for the kid in the crook of his arm. He was big enough that he only really needed one to keep the bundle secure. Hopefully, a warm corner and a weird-looking boy person would be enough to occupy this baby for a bit.

"Sort of? Am I going to end up doing more of your chores?" he asks cheekily.
Edited 2022-06-30 06:58 (UTC)
garmr: (pic#15748845)

[personal profile] garmr 2022-06-30 05:03 pm (UTC)(link)
"Uh. Ok."

The suggestion went against everything that was ironed into him since his own formative years. Although being around Vena made it easier to do so, playfulness wasn't a thing that came naturally to him. But looking at Kai, a truly tiny and helpless thing, makes him feel a little urge to at least try.

His smile is more of an awkward grimace, and he reaches in to wiggle a few fingers at Kai's flailing hand in a poor imitation of what he's seen before. Women liked to tickle their babies, right?? Kind of. The movement seemed to be briefly capturing the kid's attention. It was cute, the way he was being grasped at, but he feels his face get a little warm once he notices grins out of the corner of his eye.

Why does getting breakfast have to be such a mortifying ordeal? Guts felt like he was making a fool of himself.
garmr: (pic#15748843)

[personal profile] garmr 2022-07-01 05:47 am (UTC)(link)
"I've got it."

He insists stubbornly back at her. He's not going to let some baby get the better of him! He can handle fighting men twice his size! He can wield a sword that can split open steel! Kai trying to stick his fingers in his mouth isn't nearly as mortal a challenge.

Even if it's a little awkward, he'll muscle through it. Metaphorically speaking.

Guts gingerly wipes his hand on his shirt, though. The spit was a little gross.
garmr: (pic#15749658)

[personal profile] garmr 2022-07-02 02:51 am (UTC)(link)
There’s a moment of confusion for him as well, as he’d never been mistaken for a ‘she’ ever in his life. Then again, when this village had women that looked like Lashan, he could kind of understand it a little more. But not by much, really. Being the outsider he was, from the upbringing and country he came from, this all made little sense to him.

“You sure your eyes are workin’ right?” he was feeling cheeky as he hands Kai over without a fuss, ”Maybe you ought to get the food first.”

He figures Aren must be a bit delirious from exhaustion and hunger. That must be the answer, clearly.
garmr: (golden age 10)

[personal profile] garmr 2022-07-02 11:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Their guest doesn't object, trailing along behind them and wordlessly picking what would satisfy his stomach. Once they get into the tables, he goes quiet.

He gets a good share of eggs as those were filling even on his most active days, nestled with a heap of greens. Bread was a given, having its place on the plate. He tilts his head at the milk, more accustomed to drinking beer than milk, but decides to switch up this time around. A peach ends up stowed away in his clothes, with the plate having a rather full mound with the portions of the other foods.

Unless Vena or Aren ask him something directly, he is content to be a silent bystander and listen to them banter. Once they find their spot outside, he occupies himself by picking at the food. His expression at mealtime is solemn - it is uncertain whether or not he's actually enjoying what he was eating - but the fact that he kept methodically cleaning the plate of its food was indicator of something. He liked it enough to finish, and he tolerated their company enough not to slip away to the infirmary.

The warm milk was comforting, and Guts pauses after each sip to enjoy the novel flavor. The ever-present suspicious look in his eyes soften. He seemed to be getting something out of the whole meal aside from fulfilling the simple requirement to eat and regain his strength. It was nice.
Edited 2022-07-03 02:08 (UTC)
garmr: (golden age 3)

[personal profile] garmr 2022-07-03 02:57 am (UTC)(link)
"It's good." he stares evenly at the half-full cup.

The bread and the buttery greens help even out the salty flavor, and he mixes the two together. It was easier to avoid getting his hands too messy when he could carry them on the bread, anyway. Even though he didn't participate the prayer, his pace and the amount of food gave them ample time to catch up.

Listening to them talk about their lives felt like looking into the window of an entirely different world. Guts felt unsure how he should react, ignorant as he was on how to take care of children or prepare milk. His first thought is that it was rather boring, and how didn't fit him at all. He dwelled on how much he missed his sword, and particularly how much less he had to think about things when he only had to worry about swinging it.

But one question does linger on his mind as Aren begins to dig into the food.

"Why'd you trust me with your kid?" he asks rather suddenly. "The rest of them wouldn't even get close to me. Vena only did because Lashan made her."

He finds it hard to believe that this one would be so accepting when the rest of them had been so vividly fearful. Were they looking for something? An ulterior motive? And why the show of kindness before? He has a hard time believing it was simply altruistic or a moment of confusion.
Edited 2022-07-03 04:43 (UTC)
garmr: (golden age 13)

[personal profile] garmr 2022-07-03 02:25 pm (UTC)(link)
“You’re dodging the question,” he retorts firmly.

He sets his latest bite of bread back on the plate, watching and waiting for her to properly answer, ignoring Vena’s protests.

It appears when he’s not being quiet, he’s straightforward to a fault. Guts wants to know what this person’s deal is! It annoys him to be given the runaround, if his expression is any indicator.
garmr: (golden age)

[personal profile] garmr 2022-07-03 11:27 pm (UTC)(link)
"I know that..." he cuts in with a minor protest, but stops to let Aren finish.

Guts understood the fear. Fear made sense to him in an intrinsic way. They'd been enemies not even two days ago, and he didn't half-ass his attempts to kill his enemy. What he didn't understand was the kindness. Why was this one acting so different to all the rest? Why not be more cautious, as they ought to be? Vena may have been ordered to chaperone him, but the rest were under no such obligations.

The answer doesn't satisfy him. He catches the familiar resemblance, a trick of the light, but doesn't think to ask. He doesn't make a habit of poking into people's pasts. Instead, he sits there, frustrated with how out-of-place he felt in his bizarre town.

"You're wasting your sympathy," he decides to say.

He didn't want it, and he didn't need Aren's nor Lashan's pity. He decides the option that will give him the least headache is to just keep eating, so the next piece of bread disappears in his mouth. The faster he heals up, that faster he can get back to the solitude he craved more and more with each passing day.
Edited 2022-07-03 23:40 (UTC)
garmr: (pic#15749658)

[personal profile] garmr 2022-07-04 07:32 am (UTC)(link)
"Trouble, huh?"

Said boy chucks the last Entire Egg in his mouth. Some bread and milk remain, but he supposes this was good enough. Hopefully there won't be too much physical activity expected of him, though it wouldn't be the first time his stomach had been upended by an inopportune ambush.

He swallows.

"Better get it over with. See what's ruffling the old lady's skirts."

Guts expects it to be Lashan, because who else would want the both of them? He'd already mulled over the possibility of this happening the night before, tossing around on his bed. He was hoping this to at least take a couple of more days, though. She must have an incredibly sharp eye - or more paranoia than he initially thought.

He gets up, undaunted by the thought of conflict, and waits for Vena to abandon her dish and follow.
garmr: (golden age 2)

[personal profile] garmr 2022-07-04 07:08 pm (UTC)(link)
"Piss off, already. You're like a bug buzzing around my ears."

He stops to glower fiercely at that annoying little girl from his place up front. Vena had visibly start to sulk, and something about that bothered him. Maybe it was the way she so desperately wanted Lashan's approval that felt familiar to him. It irritated him to see her so worked up over nothing, over what some soft-hearted old smith might do.

If anyone was going to be banished, it was the outsider everyone hated anyway. It'll be back to where he started, out on the trail where he preferred to be.
garmr: (golden age 13)

[personal profile] garmr 2022-07-04 08:18 pm (UTC)(link)
Stupid girl. Had this game held out a minute longer, he might have acted on his urge to test that fearless nature of hers. As it is, he finds himself disgusted at Vena meekly shuffling along like an opening to Hell was waiting in the infirmary, just for her. She should fight back. At least shove some dirt into the brat's eyes and make her cry.

"Come on."

He grabs the cloth at her shoulder, practically dragging her inside with him. He uses his own body to block off the gnat following them, making space with his legs, and slams the door shut.
garmr: (pic#15766959)

[personal profile] garmr 2022-07-05 08:33 am (UTC)(link)
Vena seems to have only shrunken more after he pulled her inside. He doesn't think to comfort her. It was up to her if she was going to take this standing or shriveled up like a desiccated flower.

The first thing Guts notices is that the infirmary is crowded. He sees the finery of religious clothing, with all its delicately woven thread. This lot didn't seem as severe as the clergy he knew, with lectures about their lord's judgment and their self-flagellation. But he couldn't be sure.

Some stare at him, as he expected. Dark eyes looking back, much like his own. His upbringing left him wondering where he came from, sometimes. He never did match the fair color of his adopted father, and mercenaries came from all sorts of places. Such thoughts are quickly quashed by more immediate necessities of food and money. He tilts his head to try and get a glimpse under the layers of fabric, expecting a rope or chain to jingle between the two women to explain their weird positioning. Being forcefully tied together to enact penance sounds right for a religious ritual.

His quest to find that answer is dropped when he sees Lashan herself, and his brows furrow. He recognizes the change in her almost immediately. The wounds looked like they had over a week to heal, at least. Magic isn't the immediate solution that comes to mind, as that simply didn't exist in his world of grime, sweat and meat. Such things were only for dreams and fairy tales.

"What the hell? What kind of medicine did they stuff into you?"

He blurts out the question, breaking the silence in the room after they had been given some privacy. No wounded soldier recovered from a knife wound that fast.
garmr: (golden age 13)

[personal profile] garmr 2022-07-07 06:13 am (UTC)(link)
The boy shrugs in response.

"You ought to do a better job of locking up your swords, if you don't want 'em wandering around."

He picks the dirt out of a nail, thumb to the finger of the same hand, holding himself with a very teenaged aloofness as he delivers his words of advice. Guts is happy to take the brunt of her anger and attention, undaunted by the formal clothing with its lavish patterning and heavenly whites. Not quite like a bishop's rich silks or velvet, more revealing, more mystical with the furious ink peering out of her low collar. He'd tell a bishop where to stuff it if he had to, he decides.

Lashan had already shown that she was keeping secrets from him, so he can't see why he can't have some of his own. It's obvious to him that if he'd wanted to hurt someone, he'd very well done so by now. And he wasn't wearing the sword publicly, frightening people. He'd mulled it over the night before, and this was the conclusion he'd come to. If they banish him for it, then so be it. He'll go.

It never occurs to him to toss blame to the girl.

(no subject)

[personal profile] garmr - 2022-07-08 07:03 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] garmr - 2022-07-08 16:05 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] garmr - 2022-07-08 20:15 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] garmr - 2022-07-09 08:06 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] garmr - 2022-07-10 19:10 (UTC) - Expand