Chapter Text
That’s not a net of fish, Siuan thought wryly to herself on a bed as she kicked her feet idly. By the doorway of the fishing hut, her father hung up a short girl’s travel-worn shawl.
Visitors themselves weren’t new, of course. Papa had always lent a hand to anyone in need, for a night or a week, until they could get ‘back on their feet again’, as he said. In fact, one could say that lodgers were somewhat of a semiannual fixture.
But… they never dressed in cloth of such fine quality, like the girl standing with her father wore. Or in such a modest cut, either. Despite the muddied hem of the girl’s skirt and the unfortunate tangle of her hair, the stranger still exuded a sense of strange decorum. Siuan's own neck itched as she imagined the prickling humidity within the layers of fabric and pale skin that the girl had, pleated from neck to ankle, so easily. She couldn’t even spot any tattoos on the skin that showed.
Definitely not Tairen, then.
In fact, despite the heat, the unveiled girl stood firm and held herself straight and still with a type of ramrod posture Siuan had never encountered before in her life. The girl was around the same height as Siuan, perhaps just as young, though the way in which she carried herself might have been far beyond Siuan’s own years. Her eyes were a cool, startling blue, full of both dubiety and a hint of sadness.
Clutched tightly in her hand was a chain of golden links, which dipped into a deep sapphire teardrop of a gem that would’ve comfortably fed the whole village for a year. Siuan eyed it for a long second as Papa closed the door behind the two of them, wondering if she might be able to take a closer look at the gemstone later.
“Hello, guppy.” Papa greeted Siuan, sliding over to hug her tightly with his sole arm. She returned the squeeze with enthusiasm, and then turned back to stare at the girl.
“Hi, Papa.” She murmured. “Who’s that with you?”
“It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Moiraine…” The girl stopped, shaking her head at herself, as her cool eyes grew a shade murkier.
“Ahem. Yes. My name is just Moiraine.” She offered finally, her dark curls slipping past her shoulder as she stepped forward to curtsy at them both. “It is an honor to be granted shelter by you. I hope you will allow me to repay the favor in kind one day.”
“I’m Siuan,” Siuan replied bluntly. “You’d have to ask my dad about money.”
“… So I see,” Moiraine replied, her words steady and measured on the tongue. Spoken, of course, with proper enunciation, not a single slip of the tongue. Siuan was a little put off by the formality.
“There’ll be no need for that kind of talk,” Siuan’s father waved off as he set a sack down upon a small wooden table. “This isn’t some sort of market deal. Come, girls, sit.”
Moiraine approached the table cautiously, while Siuan slid easily into the chair opposite Papa.
“Here,” Siuan said, patting the seat of a spare chair that Papa had kindly pulled out for Moiraine. She sat down delicately on the cushion of rough wood and rope, looking as hapless as a swordfish in a royal armory.
Papa untied a fragrant banana leaf bundle to reveal a steaming pile of rice, fish, and vegetables. The scent wafted straight to Siuan’s nose, and her mouth watered as she immediately went to go and grab a handful of soft rice and pickled chili.
Papa picked off translucent pieces of bone from the filet of fish before placing chunks in front of both Moiraine and Siuan, to ensure the girls wouldn’t choke on any bones they themselves might not catch. Moiraine seemed to be at a loss before the fish and rice, her fingers outstretched towards the food but unsure of how to partake.
“Go ahead,” Papa encouraged her, pushing the leaves a little closer to her spot on the table. “It’s not nearly hot enough to burn.”
Moiraine tentatively scooped up a flake of fish in her hand, chewing on it slowly. She repeated the action a few times more with the rice and vegetables, all gathered up in that same precarious manner, as if she was terrified of dirtying her fingers. Siuan watched loose grains of rice and oils drip down onto the table, Moiraine’s fingers trembling. She glanced back up at Moiraine, her brow furrowed and blue eyes focused — before a piece of fish dropped itself onto the wood with a soft splat.
Moiraine at least had the decency to look somewhat abashed at her technique. “… My apologies. I am accustomed to having a variety of cutlery suited for my meals.”
“Just pinch it,” Siuan lectured between mouthfuls of spiced fish. “Press your fingers together. Like this.”
Siuan demonstrated, her fingers easily trapping a piece of fish within reach. Moiraine looked apprehensive at the sight.
“If it’s a problem, I’ll see about getting some forks or spoons for you. No shallow-water snapper enjoys being thrown into the ocean.” Papa smiled warmly at Moiraine, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
“I would greatly appreciate the effort on your end,” Moiraine responded with her own tight, demure smile, gathering rice grains and chili in her fingers. She shuffled it neatly into her mouth, and her face began to pinken soon after.
Siuan raised her eyebrow, unimpressed once more at Moiraine’s inability to have a normal interaction.
“May I have w… water?” Moiraine rasped, her body shaking with the effort not to move out of her seat.
Papa handed her a waterskin, and Siuan watched Moiraine swallow as quickly as she possibly could without her shoulders shaking. Just who did Papa bring home this time?
“Thank you,” Moiraine finally coughs up. Siuan is more than put off by the entire scene, but presses her lips together and focuses on her own food. The strange girl will be out of her hut by next week, and she won’t have to wonder what someone so clearly unaccustomed to food is doing here.
The Fingers of the Dragon were unlikely to be a suitable home for someone as conservative as Moiraine.