Chapter Text
Kira had to confess that she’d lied. Well, at least it wasn’t intentional. But after she’d shut the door and gone back to her hammock, she couldn’t help but notice how still and quiet and cold the night was. She shuddered. Fizzgig ran in circles around her feet, so she picked him up and sat him in the hammock next to her. He nuzzled lovingly into her hand, so she gave him an absentminded stroke. Sleep wasn’t likely to come to her again.
Eyes closed, she tried to focus on breathing. On the small sounds all round her. Fizzgig snuffling, the achy creak of her rope hammock. How she was warm and alive and how Jen’s smell lingered in her hair and night-dress. He smelled like sunshine on old cloth. Of clay. And home.
Home. Home, which was soon not going to mean a house so small she scraped her head on the ceiling. Home, which might someday mean cradles and mess and the castle, like Aughra had suggested. Children. Her heart thumped happily at the thought. Before Jen came along that word had been one line of a song she could never sing. Her eyes popped open and she felt a shiver of excitement run along her body.
Kira was fully incapable of sitting still. She had managed it in the past when evading crystal bats, because that held a purpose . She could focus, pour energy into it because it was a task that needed doing. But remaining still and waiting was not something she could do. She cast a glance at the bundle by the door. Jen’s wedding present. She’d gathered the herbs herself in secret, going out into the forest by the light of the sisters. But somehow it didn’t feel enough. Jen deserved the best, and she was determined to spoil him.
“Jen?” she’d said one day when they were hard at work preparing for the wedding. “What do you miss from your life before?”
He’d stopped his task of counting out plates and frowned.
“The mystics. But if you’re asking about things, I’d say the learning. Every day was a new lesson,” he sighed. “Sometimes I feel like a dull knife, getting rustier and rustier without practice. My master used to say “a firca never played cannot stay in tune”, and I believe him,”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” she enfolded him into her arms. “I didn’t mean to make you sad, I just wondered if there was anything we could bring to the castle for you,”
Jen kissed her gently on the forehead.
“They weren’t ones for material possessions. Most of the books they had I’ve already found in the library at the castle. Though so far I’ve found an entire section dedicated to Tithing records.”
“Tithing?”
“Yes. The skeksis made each gelfling give a portion of whatever they had, and then it would be brought to the Castle for the Skeksis to enjoy,”
“That’s just stealing, isn’t it?”
“It certainly sounds like it,” Jen frowned. “But Kira, despite all the records and complicated math, there’s not a single abacus anywhere that isn’t broken,”
“What’s that?”
Jen explained the tool to her, and by the end she nodded thoughtfully.
“It’s not pleasant to think about, but after the Garthim Wars they probably didn’t need anything like that anymore,”
“Yes, that’s it!” she thought to herself, hurriedly wrapping a shawl around her thin shoulders. “I’ll make him an abacus,”
Kira went out behind the hut to the woodpile. Fizzgig clambered up, scattering pieces to the ground. She hushed him and began to sort through. Too long. Too short. Rotted inside. Absolutely covered with knobs. She frowned and dug deeper, eventually finding a selection that held up to her rigorous scrutiny.
Once inside, she got to work. She stripped the pieces of their bark, cutting notches so they fit neatly, then wrapped the corners with leather cord for security. Kira then cut more strips of cord, stringing them with her own beads left over from the wedding garments. Without any warning, there was a knock at the door. Kira grew acutely aware of the fact it was already morning.
“You’re already up? That’s not like you at all, dear one,” Kira’s mother clucked her tongue as she poked her head into the room.
“Ah! Ydra, come look!” Kira waved her over. “It’s an abacus. Jen told me about them once, the Mystics used them for counting.”
“Kira,” Ydra chided. “Did you not sleep at all? You should have rested,”
“I know I should have, but I couldn’t. And now he’ll have two wedding gifts instead of just one so really I think it was worth it.”
“Is it supposed to keep falling over?”
“I’m not sure, he didn’t mention that part,”
Her mother sighed. She held out the soap and washrag to Kira.
“You need to hurry and go down to the river before all the boys get too rowdy and take Jen before his time,”
Ydra teetered back and forth on the stool. Her small hands wove back and forth while Kira tried to sit as still as possible.
“Jen is still worried. The mystics had rituals and traditions, and I think he feels a little lost without them,” Kira sniffed the flowers she was holding. “Like we won’t be good at being gelflings or something,”
Ydra scoffed.
“Old ways are gone. Time to make new path, and no wrong way to do that. Hand me that big one there..”
“Is my hair dry enough?” Kira asked. “I can go sit by the fire if it’ll make it easier,”
“No, you are perfect,” Ydra patted her daughter’s head. “Give me two of the white ones there…. The kinshow flowers for long life…”
She did as she was told. Her mother took the flowers and wove them into the thick braid on top of Kira’s head. They sat quietly for a long while, the silence only broken by Ydra’s occasional requests for a certain flower. Finally, only a small bundle of buds remained.
“And now buds, for many many children,” Ydra smiled, tears gathering in the wrinkles near her eyes. “All done, my Kira,”
Kira squeezed her adoptive mother tight.
“Thank you for everything,”
Gathered on the doorstep was the whole village, Kira’s clan. At the sight of her they cheered, pouring drinks generously. She accepted the mug offered, drinking it down swiftly. This was met with raucous applause and tooting of horns. The path through the village had never seemed so short, and every home seemed full of memories. The tailor who had taught her to make her own clothing, the drinking-house where she and Ydra had spent so many evenings dancing, and the herbalist who she always brought her finds to. The air was full of song, punctuated by Fizzgig’s raspy cries for her attention. When he progressed to chewing on her skirt, she stooped and picked him up.
Her hiding spot was something she’d thought about for a long while. Initially she’d wanted to go to the place in the swamp where they’d first met. But she couldn’t get that far anymore without a lot of rest. So she’d settled for the little inlet where she kept their canoe docked. It was still a good walk away, but she could get there easily. The ground was soft, wet, and slippery. A week straight of rain had only cleared up the day before. An auspicious sign.
“Kira!” Ydra squeezed her arm. “Go out into the wilderness and wait for Jen! Enjoy yourself! Be covered in the earth! Blessings of Thra upon you!”
The podlings exploded in cheer, and Kira waved goodbye as she and Fizzgig disappeared into the woods. The sounds of celebration did not fade for a long while. The path disappeared along with the sounds, and Kira found herself slogging through mud and plants. She walked with Fizzgig in her arms, the spoiled baby leaving no room to hold up her skirt. Her hem and footwraps were soaked through. Ugh, footwraps.
She set Fizzgig down on a fallen log, whereupon he promptly hopped down and ran off to terrorize some poor woodland creatures. Kira took his now-vacant spot and began taking off her footwraps.
“Why did I even bother with these?” she yanked one off. “The whole point is to be muddy anyway, and wet feet feel much better than wet footwraps,”
With that decided, she left the offending footwear sitting by the log and continued on. Fizzgig rolled past, in eager pursuit of a bird. She laughed, knowing the bird was a friend of his. They'd played this game before, and Fizzgig never won. It always ended with him howling in rage and disappointment, while the bird chattered on a branch and preened smugly.
It was spring, and all the flowers were in bloom, soaking in sunlight and tentatively hoping that the cold was gone for good. The nebries would be whelping soon, and the Petalbirds who lived in the knots of large trees were in full mating display. Color dazzled every inch of her vision, and the scent of flowers carried on the breeze with an aroma as thick as spices.
By the time she was halfway to her hiding place, Kira feared she'd miscalculated. Her steps were slowing, breath wheezing. The last time she'd made this trip she was well rested. Fizzgig had abandoned his woodland play, choosing instead to dog her steps and whimper.
"I'm fine, I promise," she whispered, looking into his worried eyes.
Fizzgig whined and took hold of her skirt in his teeth, pulling hard. She didn't fight him. With a series of yanks, he led her over to a soft patch of grass and began rolling in circles; he made a little nest for her, the way wild Fizzgigs did for their young.
"Fizz, I thought you were my baby, not the other way around," she sat down in the little hollow.
He sat on her lap and gazed up, expression reproachful. It was comfy. A short rest, and then she would continue on. Kira closed her eyes and sighed. Just a few minutes to get her breathing under control again.
“Kira?” Jen’s horrified voice broke her from her slumber. “What are you doing on the ground?”
She blinked the drowsiness from her eyes, and gave her groom a tired smile. His concerned expression softened slightly. Jen appeared to have slipped and fallen several times, as he was significantly dirtier than she was. Jen sat down next to her, his arm pulling her close to him.
“Fell asleep while waiting. Good job finding me though!”
Jen flashed her a soft little grin.
“Wasn’t really all that difficult. I’d know your footprints anywhere,” he teased.
“So everything went well with your cleansing?” she plucked a twig from his hair.
“I got pushed in! It was fun!” Jen’s eyes brightened.
They laughed together. Kira looked around at the forest, glowing with the golden light of mid-afternoon. Thra was singing. She could hear it in the calls of the animals, the soft, low whistle of the wind through the trees and the grass. Most of all she heard it in the rapid beating of Jen’s heart against her cheek. Fizzgig growled and paced, upset he wasn’t included in the embrace.
“Kira?” his ears twitched, the way they always did when he was puzzled. “Did you see Aughra at all this morning?”
“No,” she shook her head. “I thought she’d gone to see you . You know her better than I do, after all,”
“Maybe. Sometimes I wonder if any of us really know Aughra. Still, it seems odd that she’d miss our wedding,”
“There’s still time, don’t worry,” she squeezed his hand. “Nobody’s even expecting us back yet for another few hours,”
“Then why don’t we stay? You can get more rest, and if you’re still not feeling up to walking back I’ll carry you,” he suggested.
“That sounds…. Like a wonderful idea,” she yawned. “Don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep much, but I can try,”
Fizzgig settled down halfway on her lap, halfway on Jen’s. He turned round in circles, stamping his muddy little feet on their legs. She giggled.
“You look beautiful,” Jen tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I can’t wait to see this every morning when the brothers rise,”
“Every day. You’ll be there when I wake up. Just like you were in the castle,” she murmured, heart content.