Chapter Text
Bonfires marked the end of each sevenday as the heat eased and the leaves began to turn. When Dakoral wasn’t working on his Journeyman’s Project, the boot knife for Karathael, he was spending time with her or making plans for the trip to the Weyr. Master Fandarel had let it slip that he expected Dakoral to be promoted after the beginning of the new turn, which only gave him a couple of months to arrange a living situation. He couldn't exactly take his new bride to the shared journeyman’s quarters.
Karathael seemed less resentful about planning the wedding with her mother as she fell deeper and deeper in love. She still wouldn’t say it outright, for which Dakoral was grateful, but it was obvious in the way she looked at him and even began to dote on him. He’d grown fond of her as well, and he was beginning to look forward to their life together.
“Come with me,” Karathael said before Dakoral could sneak back to the forge. He had been putting in as much extra time on the blade as he could; he wanted it to be perfect. “Granny Shorka wants to meet you. Shenette’s related to her, not me, but she’s known me since forever, and she’s curious.”
“Oh, ok. Will Shenette be there?” he asked cautiously as he stood up. They had never been on great terms, but she was growing increasingly spiteful lately about his relationship with her friend. If he was going to have to deal with that all morning, he’d rather be prepared.
“I don’t know. Probably. We won’t be there all day. I know you two don’t get along very well,” Karathael replied, unsuccessfully hiding the flash of sadness in her eyes. He had tried to make peace with her, even offering to escort her to the Weyr, but she still seemed to have a problem with him.
It was only a short walk to a patch of small, stone-roofed cottages. Karathael led him to where an old woman was already sitting on her porch, waiting next to a pitcher of milk and a tray full of cookies. She was a tiny little lady with more wrinkles than he had ever seen on one person. “Granny Shorka can tell the future,” Karathael whispered excitedly, “up to a point.”
“Hi, Granny!" The young woman waved, gripping tightly onto the smith’s hand. “This is Dakoral. The one I was telling you about. We’re getting married sometime after Turn’s End.” He waved as well, giving Granny a wide, friendly smile. He didn’t want to make a bad impression on everyone in Karathael’s life.
“Oh, are you, dears? Come here, let me see you. And eat these cookies before Gramps comes back,” she gestured toward the tray. They were sourfruit with a white, sugary drizzle on top. Karathael poured a cup of milk for each of them and grabbed three of the treats, passing one to Dakoral.
“You’ve seen me plenty, Granny Shorka. Look at Dakoral, tell us what you see.” The old woman curled a finger, beckoning him closer to take a look into his stormy blue eyes. He bent with his hands on his knees and stared back, noting how Granny’s cloudy blue irises had dozens of tiny brown spots, almost like a sky full of stars. “Are we going to live happily ever after?” Karathael asked, right beside him. Dakoral tried not to wince at her question, suddenly feeling vulnerable.
The old woman booped him on the nose, and he stood back up, both relieved it was over and nervous about what the woman might reveal. He didn’t believe in fortune-telling, really, but he also didn’t want to tempt fate. Granny thought for a moment, during which Karathael was too focused on her face to notice her fiance’s pleading expression. “Happily ever after… I suppose you could call it that,” the old woman announced after a quick deliberation. “You will both find true joy in your lives.”
“You did tell me once that my future was wrapped in dusky blue. Do you remember that, Granny? Just like his eyes,” Karathael pointed out hopefully, starting on her second cookie. “Maybe that’s what you meant.”
Granny Shorka chuckled, pouring her own glass of milk. “Perhaps, dear. I’ll leave the speculation to the young. I find life more interesting with a bit of mystery along the way,” she smiled, taking a sip. “Speaking of mystery, Shenette would like to speak with your young man inside. Alone.” She shrugged at Karathael, who flashed her fiance a concerned look. “We can catch up in the meantime.”