Alinea
The trunks that lined the courtyard of Miscadiz had doubled, from arrival to departure. Ribbons and banners still dangled from tree boughs and balconies that surrounded the inner courtyard. Servants were finding goblets that had tumbled underneath shrubbery and into fountains. The fiesta would be remembered for decades. The city danced, feasted, and celebrated the nights away. By day, prayers and speeches in honor of the new couple, and by night - dancing and festivities. Fireworks over the water, and a carnival-like atmosphere that lasted the week through.
But eventually, as all extraordinary things must end, so too did the fiesta. Gifts from the local nobility, wealthy businessmen, and even some of the long-standing common families filled the trunks. As Sigurna counted them again, she heard a servant call out "Viscount Wodenstaff!" and smiled to herself.
Turning, she eyed her new husband as he sauntered down the hallway. Full of his trademark confidence, he eyed the large amount of wares returning with them to Regalia. Then his arms were around her waist and his steady presence gave her peace.
"Half the city is in these chests," murmured Leonzio in her ear.
Nodded, finishing her count, and smiled. "The people were generous. It is only right we display what they've given us. And rejoice in our happiness," before adding. "And now we don't have to worry about broken dishes for a while." Remembering the truly staggering amount of plateware they received.
"Broken dishes, no. The rest of the world, perhaps." Leonzio said in reply, stepping away and fastening closed the last of the chests.
Sigurna looked around. The month spent at home had been a glorious, and difficult one. She had come to terms with a great many things. Had realized many more. And now, she was ready to start on this next adventure - with her husband and new family by her side. Excitement mixed with tentative expectation had been flooding her mind, since the wedding. So much ahead of them both. A new chapter in their lives, yes. But also in the web of lives that surrounded them.
Down the steps came her Uncle and brother Torbin. Their goodbyes much less fraught than their welcomes. For what had started as a trip with dour, disappointed dreams, had ended with determination, and happiness. What had she come home with, but despair and hesitation? And what did she now leave with - but hope and renewal. Her Uncle held her close.
"Know now what you must do, sobrina?" He queried. And she reached back - reached back to all that she had seen, all that she had done to survive. To thrive. And she returned his look with a confident smile. A woman who could look death squarely in the face and smile was beyond the plane of physical ruin. She had seen such horrors, been so close that the taste could even now be summoned by memory. But those lessons also put her far beyond where she started. Beyond the touch of low men and scheming. To move ahead, to run when the rest walked. To continue the race that others were not aware of running. And now, she would not do it alone.
When she pulls her punches, she still feels the energy there. That hanging moment of power that would decide so many fates. Most men saw only the carnage after the hit. The blood, the damage, the dignity lost. But in the hit that was held - there is more power waiting to fall. And while she had heard it said that inaction was something to be chastised - the lack of imagination, the absence of true understanding, showed her differently.
As she took her husband's arm, and they made their way to the carriage, she waved to the rest of the family, the jaunty feather in her cap fluttering in the sea breeze. His own rich attire making him a striking figure, saluting her guard, and those who came to say goodbye as the carriage wheels clattered over the clay and cobble.
"Why does everything you know, and everything you've learned, confirm you in what you believed before, Leonzio? Whereas in my case, what I grew up with, and what I thought I believed, is chipped away a little and a little, a fragment and then a piece more. With every month that passes, the corners are knocked off the certainties of this world: and the next world too. Yet you are as steady as the rain."
"There are some people in this world who like everything precise, and there are those who will allow some drift, mi amore. It is in the drifting, the slow movement from the center that patterns are realized," gripping her hand and squeezing for a moment, as they leave Miscadiz behind, headed for the docks.
"Then...are we really ready, for the shifting earth under our feet?" She asks. More confident than fearful, but still clinging to his hand.
"When were we ever not? We go back. We are prepared for the storms ahead. We remain ready. And we go back with eyes open."
"Eyes open."
