Campfire Tales: Tomassa
From OtherVerse Wiki
Forest
- Blue flowers blossom on bushes that flourish around the gray trunks of shardwood trees. The ground is covered in a carpet of leaves and grass. A large, ancient shardwood is here, majestic and tall. A broken tree has toppled to lean against another, angling above the trail as it winds through a gulley.
Someone passing by might miss the camp, if the fire were out - it blends in to the surroundings, a part of the natural order of things, a lean-to in the lee of the fallen shardwood, carefully crafted to seem just so much underbrush, a den, of sorts. Off to the side, near a low rock - a cache of carefully angled stones - near the den, a carefully raised circle of rock has a small fire burning merrily.
Tomassa rides very slowly through the forest, but her horse takes heaving breaths as if it is calming from a run. Torch's ears prick forward and he shies to the side as Tomassa looks over the encampment she has found. The equine's sudden movement and his nervous whinny take the woman by surprise. When Torch darts a step or two *backward*, he knocks Tomassa into a low-hanging tree branch and she almost falls from the saddle. "DAMMIT! What is *wrong* with you?"
"What is she?" Stowe asks softly, "Or, rather, what are you? I have never..." But the admission of 'lack of experience' is cut short by the shout. She stands up sharply, automatically. A hand does move as if to instinctively steady the chittering creature, but it is doubtful that hand finishes the gesture or would encounter anything even if it did.
Well.. no, that hand doesn't encounter much - at the exclamation, even as the mage's head swivels, the ghostly little beast has hopped down, landing silently on the path between the pair and the horsewoman, wary and.. for something so small and.. well.. dead.. oddly protective, chirruping warningly.
Kael himself stands - holding a hand up to Stowe, warningly, the other dipping down to the knife at his waist - peering with fire-dazzled eyes into the dark and in the direction of the horse and rider. "Y' alright there?"
Another nervous whicker leaves Torch and the horse prances backward, dragging Tomassa against the branch. She growls in irritation. "What's *wrong* with you?" she snaps at her unusually misbehaving horse even as she gets her arms around the branch and hauls herself out of the saddle. The very moment that Tomassa is no longer controlling Torch, the equine bolts back toward the road with a frightened neighing. Tomassa hauls herself up a little higher with a rending of fabric to half-dangle, half-sit upon the branch with one hand steadying herself upon a nearby limb.
Warnings are warnings and, no, Stowe doesn't go bounding into the night to challenge the unseen. However, she does shift to the side. Several careful steps as if to potentially flank or at least spread out the defense. Eyes narrow into the half dark of the tree and its new occupant.
Kael can't help but laugh, his merry tenor carrying easily.... "S' th' first time I e'er seen a bandit snagged b' a tree." He stalks forward, expression curious - but no, not drawing the knife, perhaps trusting to the mortal injury of pride and clothing already inflicted. "yer horse s' smart - but 't leaves ye in a right bad spot, aye?" Still he peers - fire-dazzled eyes not yet adjusted enough to pick out more detail than /shape/.
The chitter? it takes off, bounding along the path to the tree... and up it.
Tomassa gets very still when she realizes that the camp's occupants are fully aware of her presence. Within the leafy branches, she silently studies what she can see of the area. In another heartbeat, she seems to decide that a good offense is the best defense. Rather than trying to hide her continued presence, her husky contralto authoritatively barks, "I am *not* a bandit, but neither am I helpless. I would advise against any acts of violence against my person."
Stowynne's brows rise, "You have, effectively, invaded this gentleman's home." She says, voice mild, "Granted, that is a risk he runs with this type of living, however... it does mean that perhaps you should have noticed that neither of us have drawn a weapon and that if you need assistance? You should ask for it rather than warn us off?"
Kael teases, merrily - "Now, Stowe - I allus did want a scarecrow. Keeps th' rest of 'em away." Still peering through the dark, the young man pauses... somewhere just out of easy reach, peering up.. and apparently looking for the earstwhile scarecrow's face. "... so. If yer nae a bandit - that mean y' might possibly want down? Fer me, 's fun either way."
The chitter - silent on ghostly paws, pads out along the branch, flickering and misty, chirruping curiously.
"Bandits," drawls the female in the tree, "Are often chased off by arrows or bolts. I did not wish to be made an unwilling pincushion." The leaves suddenly rustle and the branches shake to herald her impending arrival. Tomassa swings herself down from the tree and lightly drops to the balls of her feet, knees bending to fall into a crouch.
"I believe the woman may be too conversationally inclined to make a good scarecrow, Master Firelight. My apologies." Stowe's weight shifts, but her stance, square shouldered and chin raised, doesn't relax.
"Huh. Y' may be..." Kael blinks. "Tomassa?" He grins, widely - "shades - 'n 'ere I thought I were 'bout in trouble." He steps forward, offering the woman a hand - the chitter from the tree dropping to land, wraithlike, on the man's shoulder, even as he moves - "what are y' doin' climbin' shardwoods? Y' gone 'n ripped yer surcoat, there.."
Tomassa finally seems to take note of the chitter, gaze narrowing as she studies its movement. She reaches up to grasp Kael's hand as she looks back at the rip on her clothing. The woman shrugs one shoulder and confesses, "I never liked it much anyway." Turning her gaze to the other female, she faintly smiles and inclines her head.
Stowynne's blue eyes are waiting for that gaze, still even and measured. Kael's recognition does not shift that, and she inclines her head to Tomassa in return.
Kael's handshake - gripping forearm - is warm and friendly - as he waves back to the fire - "Wi' get yer horse 'n a bit - 'e will nae go far. Y' care t' join us? Nae much food, but s' good company, anyroad."
The little beast on his shoulder chirrups, an oddly irritated, scoldiing sound. "Oh, aye - " Kael grins. "Sari, Tomassa, Tomassa, Sari." A mutter at the wraith - "Y' happy now?"
Tomassa flicks her eyes over the odd creature again, gaze narrowing briefly, but she makes no remark about its unusual qualities. "Sari," she drily murmurs. "Is the creature and not your friend?" She looks to Stowynne now and almost grins.
The middle of the woods. In a rough camp. Somethings are expected here and some things are not. Bandits? Yes. Wolves? Yes. But high ranking folk who just happen to run into tree branches? Not really. Repetition, however, is its own delicate reinforcer. Three times the lady has been named Tomassa. That is enough. Stowe's expression shifts to disbelief before she buries it in the slightly grave expression which seems more her usual, "The creature is named Sari, in fact. My name would be Stowynne."
Kael looks a bit blankly at Tomassa... before he gets through the thought. "oh! Well, th' both are friends. Sari too, aye?" He grins, and heads back for the camp, reaching up to scritch idly at the ghostly beast's cheek. "M' sorry, Stowe - shoul' hae done a better job introducin' ye. Still gettin' th' hang o' that."
Tomassa offers, "Good greetings, Stowynne," as she curiously moves further into
the encampment. "You both have my apologies - I have no idea what came over Torch. That is decidedly unusual behavior for him."
"Good greetings," Stowynne returns, "And do not let it bother you, Master Firelight. The introductions are done, after all. That is all that matters." She doesn't seem entirely at ease as her gaze goes back to Sari.
The fire calls and - either oblivious to or ignoring both Stowe's formality and Tomassa's wariness, the young mage settles down next to it with obvious comfort, muttering something to the ghostly thing... a mutter to which the ghostly thing responds by bounding off into the nearby wood. Kael smiles, warm and friendly, up to both women - "Sh' wi' keep 'n eye out - no more scares 'n frights this late." He chuckles, softly.. "m' still nae used t' makin' 'em, is all - wi' figure 't out, goin' on. An' no need t' apologize yerself, Tomassa - 's unexpected t' see ye, but nae unwelcome. As fer yer horse? 'e knows better n' t' get o'ernear a wolf's den. Donnae fret."
Tomassa drifts closer to the fire, the rends in her garments becoming more obvious in the brighter light. Along her back on the right side, both her surcoat and chemise have suffered in the scraping against the shardwood, leaving little holes and pulls. Here and there a hint of blood shows from a scrape, but the woman acts entirely at ease. "A wolf's den," she repeats. She looks from Kael to Stowynne and arches her pale right eyebrow.
Stowynne follows suit and also moves to sit down again, a few yards from Kael and Tomassa's approach both. Her back is set against one of the nearer trees and she sighs, weariness ghosting across her features. She rubs the bridge of her nose and apparently misses the rise of the brow. "You two know each other, obviously?"
Tomassa interjects without pause, "Oh, yes. We've been lovers for years." She holds her hands out to the fire, nonchalant.
Kael blinks. "wha?" Trust the blank look and the brown eyes blinking at Tomassa to indicate a mind that has abruptly vacated the premises. Or, perhaps, been thrown from a galloping horse into a castle wall. In fact, the expression probably looks remarkably similar to someone in that predicament.
Stowynne drops her hand and looks at Tomassa. Now it is her turn to raise a brow, lips quirking upward in a humor. "I see," she says easily. "I would be intruding then. It is no problem for me to head on, if you should wish?" She turns wide questioning eyes to Kael. Ever so earnest, that curve to her lips nearly completely hidden.
Despite her oh-so-innocent expression, Tomassa's coppery brown eyes are dancing in the firelight with suppressed amusement. "I said for *years*," the woman points out with a slight shrug. "The passion isn't the same as it was at the first - you are in no danger of us falling all over one another in front of you."
The young man simply looks ... lost. Blinking between both women.. "I n.." From stowe to Tomassa - "... p.. " He flounders, face abruptly flaming.
"Pity," Stowe says, tone still flat in its deadpan, "I've been needing an education. Alas, I fear I'll have to wait until I can rent a room at a tavern and hope for thin walls." Ah, she pulls the voice off decently enough. But her cheeks have begun to flame bright red and she can't quite hold it beyond the end of the sentence. The grin and wince for her own behavior escape at the same time and either the desire to hide that, or the sudden abrupt shame that such an innuendo left her lips, makes her look down, face hidden. "...shouldn't ... drunk so ...celebrate..." the words are mumbled.
"Oh? Well, in -that- case..." the noblewoman steps to Kael and sits down very close to his side. Slowly, she turns her gaze from the fire to his face and slowly, faintly grins. The quirk of her left eyebrow is almost challenging.
For his part.. the young man seems utterly lost still, but he's no fool. He blinks at Tomassa - owlishly - and though is face still flames, he recovers at least part of his mental faculties. "M' nae that easy. B'sides. Sh' wants t' listen through tavern walls, sh' said."
Stowynne looks up, face fully red now, "Lady, I would continue the game. For once he does not seem to have quite the wit and charm in his come backs as he usually does. But, I fear that I am very tired and have played my best. I humbly withdraw and leave the field of wit and banter to your excellence." She inclines her head and then looks towards the horse tied up. Then back to Kael. "I will assume nothing. Sleeping near Thorn should be safe enough in these woods, should it not?"
Tomassa moves her hand to apologetically pat at Kael's arm, but lets him answer Stowynne's question in peace.
Kael clears his throat, softly, and trusts himself to answer that question indeed - with an unusual amount of steel in the words. "Stowe? Y' sleep 'n this place, wi' me about? Light help anyone o' anything what tries t' hurt ye." He shrugs, glancing down. "M' worse 'n anythin' what might be in these woods what I hae seen. Wi' nae let anythin' happen."
"No offense was meant to you, Master Firelight. By either of us, I trust." Stowe tells Kael. She moves to stand up, "And I'm certain that all will be well tonight. And if it comes to protection, being 'worse' is not nessasarily something to be ashamed of." Her blue gaze shifts to Tomassa again, studying for a long moment. Apparently the rules of curtesy as she understands them at this moment may not be entirely clear. She half smiles though, then simply curtsies. She starts towards Thorn.
Tomassa's contralto quietly offers, "Rest well," to the departing Stowynne. She openly studies the other female for a moment and then turns her gaze to Kael with a slightly apologetic grin.
Kael grins to Stowe, finally - "y' sleep well. An' no fret - s' nae 'n inn, but.. s' safe, 't least." His eyes track back to Tomassa - "An' I thought /I/ were evil." Light and merry, however, if still somewhat embarrassed.
"Good sleep to you both as well," Stowe acknowledges. Thorn is given some time of loving attention. Saddle and tack removed, quiet murmurs of apology, affection or promise. Hay, or is it apples, are delivered as well. This is likely to last quite a few moments, at enough distance so it doesn't interfere with any conversation that Kael or Tomassa may be having. After this time, cloak, is wrapped around and Stowe becomes a lump on the edge of firelight. Quiet and, one assumes, very quickly asleep.
Tomassa rests her elbows upon her knees and gazes into the fire. "There are varying degrees of evil," she quietly says. "And not everyone who bears that mark can be called that. There are as many of the Light that can be called evil as those who are of the Shadow. Evil knows no station or rank or accident of birth. One is not born with it. One *becomes* it."
"... Mm. I kin only be what I am. If that means m' evil o' good, Light o' Shadow, n' so be it - but I wi' do what I kin do t' make things right, one way o' another." The embarrassment fades quickly in this topic of conversation, the young man sounding determined - "Were tellin' Stowe - Monster I m' be, but it donnae mean I cannae do sommat right wi' it, aye?"
Tomassa's lips curve into a slight smile. "If you are a monster, then you are the most handsome monster that I have ever seen, Master Firelight. I've seen no evidence of this monstrousness aside from a tattoo upon your cheek."
His answering smile is wan.. ".. Yer kind. What I see when I look in th' forest pools 's different n' most, I suppose." Idly, the mage reaches up to flip that long hair of his back over his shoulder -- "But s' nae important, is 't?" He looks absently around the camp. "m' sorry I hae nae much more t' offer - m' huntin' s' nae been good as o' late. S' nae much hospitality -- m' da woul' be dissapointed."
Tomassa says, "I am an unexpected guest. And I do not hunger or thirst. The warmth of the fire is hospitality enough."
"Then yer welcome t' it." Kael leans back against the shardwood whose massive branches embrace the camp - ".. y' sound like other folks, y' ken. I jus'.. I ken I m' nae forsaken, 's I figured I were once. It donnae change what I am, though. S' funny - s' what I been thinkin' about quite a bit lately, what wi' everythin'."
Tomassa smiles toward the fire, turning her face toward it. "I hope that I did not spoil things with your friend. I've... not had much chance for fun of late and could not resist that opening. You aren't angry with me, are you?"
"o' course nae." Kael waves a calloused hand with a grin. "Jus' caught m' off guard. N' any worse 'n th' ladies o' th' Moon - jus' were nae expectin' 't. An' w' are jus' friends." He glances back at the horse and the woman - "Sh' is lookin' fer sommat larger 'n 'erself - turns out w' hae that in common." He smiles, friendly - "Sh' wants t' be a Knight," he confides - "I think sh' wi' do 't, too, 'f any will. Sh' hae.. sommat to 'er."
"Once... I would have shared her dream," the woman murmurs toward the fire, expression somewhat sad. "But my path has long turned in another direction - whether I wish it or not."
Perhaps oddly - the young man reaches up to rest a hand on the Zahir's shoulder - "Y' seem sad. Y' were sad on th' road, too." Just an observation, gentle and calm - "regrets hae a way o' sneakin' up 'n all o' us, if 'w let 'em... neither here n' there. Why woul' ye hae so many, though?"
Tomassa admits, voice quiet, "I've lost more than I've gained. Two men that I loved - both dead. My only child - the same. I... don't even know who I am anymore. I remember the woman who wore the armor of the Surrector, the one who was fierce. The one who competed with men without hesitation... but she seems someone separate from myself. I feel as if I am trapped in some dismal dream that I cannot awaken."
The space of a dozen heartbeats pass before the young man squeezes that shoulder gently, reassuringly. "I ken. Oh, nae all o' it, but that feelin'... aye, I ken." Kael offers, quiet and gentle - "S' nae any magic I kin offer what kin mend yer wounds.." A bit sad - "If I tried t' heal th' scrapes y' hae, woul' probably jus' hurt ye worse. But th' are nae real hurt. I kin only tell ye that y' are what y' chose t' be. Y' e'en tol' me that yerself - s' th' same fer ye. If y' feel lost, it is only that y' hae nae chosen fer who y' are now, nae set out on th' next journey." He looks down, self-consciously taking his hand back. "I may b' wrong. M' nae very good 't bein' /man/ yet - but if I kin be man at all, 't jus' shows, t' me at least, y' kin be sommat other 'n ye are now, if y' choose. Th' what.. s' up t' ye. Allus wi' be."
Tomassa turns her head now to study him with quiet intensity. "I did not choose this path. Zolor set me upon it when he declared himself Emperor. Though, I admit, I was floundering without direction after the loss of .." She pauses and, despite the many months that have passed, her voice is thick when she says his name. "Shalis." Tomassa draws a soft breath. "But this is not me. These skirts and surcoats and...." She exhales in disgust. "Or perhaps it *is* me now and I do not wish to admit it." Mouth pursing, she looks at Kael all over again. "You are not good at being a *man* yet? You do not look as if you were so recently a *boy*, Kael."
Kael looks up at her, speaking softly... "what y' /wear/ 's not what y' are. What y' look like - s' all illusions. This?" He waves a hand at himself - "S' nae me any more 'n those clothes kin stand up 'n speak wi' yer voice. " A heartbeat. "M' sorry fer yer loss - more 'n I kin say. I donnae ken ye well, but I feel how y' hurt, an' that sings t' me. M' heart hurts wi' yers." His eyes flick down, then up - "Y' are /who ye are/. All th' trappin's an' appearances... are jus' that."
Tomassa draws in another soft breath and looks back to the fire, her eyes sparkling with new dampness. "And here I'd almost gone an entire week without weeping," she says in quiet humor, though her hand darts up to wipe at her cheek after a quicksilver tear darts down it.
"I hae nae managed that 'n a few summers - y' figure out how, y' wi' tell me, aye?" Kael's calloused hand again, tentatively, rests on the woman's shoulder. "Are.. are y' alright? I donnae mean t' hurt."
"It isn't your fault," she quickly reassures. Damp-eyed, she turns to offer him a bit of a teasing smile despite her tears. "But you keep being so nice to me, I cannot promise that I will not try to kiss you."
Kael smiles, at that. "y' will nae. Nae yet - y' love still." Thoughtful, quiet - "An' y' see only part." Oddly, he reaches up to wipe away a tear with a calloused finger. "s' my nature t' fret about others. I hae no pack - nae a real one." His smile goes a bit lopsided. "but y' do seem t' be one what coul' use a friend. M' nae th' best one y' coul' pick fer that, but.." He lets that go. "M' jabberin' on, sittin' here worryin'. Nae bein' much help, in th' bargain."
Tomassa's teasing smile turns into a grin, but her eyes retain that lingering touch of sadness. "One doesn't always kiss because one loves," she points out. "As I'm sure the girls at the Moon could tell you."
Rough humor it is, but bright and teasing nonetheless.. "Aye? Well, I got nae enough imperials t' afford th' like o' ye.." He winks... and leans back. "S' what will y' do, then? Yer nae happy.. what did y' say.. 'lost 'n stacks o' parchment'... so? Wi' ye go back t' it?"
"I don't know," she honestly answers at that question. "I wonder how long it would take them to realize I am not returning to the palace."
"Does 't matter? Yer talkin' wi' a wolf in th' wood - I cannae imagine most nobles woul' be brave enough t' say sommat t' ye about what y' choose t' do." Kael grins, at that. "But then, m' nae a noble. So yer nae goin' back, 't least - mm. Come wi' us, then. Me 'n Sahna."
Tomassa actually seems surprised by that. "You and... Sahna?" She gently laughs. "And if you think I care about what most people say about me, you know very little about me *or* my past, I'd say."
".. y' woul' be right." Kael's quite serious - "An' aye - Sahna 'n I are goin' through th' Aegis, when th' guards allow. I hae seen th' Refuge - I meant t' show her. Now that s' open.. well..' He's earnest. "w' cannae go yet - nae wi' th Cult 'n Night's Edge 'n all th' rest.. but 't wi' be soon. Come wi' us."
She finally seems to comprehend what he is saying. "Go beyond the Aegis?" Tomassa draws a breath. "Go... beyond the Aegis." Her initial surprise turns to introspection and she lowers her chin as she lightly frowns.
Kael nods, seriously. "Out there... s' sommat like y' hae ne'er seen... I cannae describe 't. But if y' want t' find who y' are..." He shrugs. "wi' nae be safe, but I ken th' way enough t' get us close. Th' rest, w' make up as w' go."
Tomassa murmurs, "Who else will be going?"
Kael considers that. "jus' us. n' one else, what I ken."
Tomassa looks downward and then back up into his eyes. "Allow me to think on it? I should truly give my resignation at the palace, if this is what I am to do."
Kael shrugs. "wi' nae be fer a bit yet." He moves to stand - again, for the briefest of moments resting his hand on the woman's shoulder. "Y' are welcome t' stay here t'night- 's nae much, but 's safe, 't least. I.. hae t'.." He sighs. "One more try 't huntin', aye? Maybe, wi' luck...." He lets that go.. and takes a step back - "wi' find dry wood up behind th' fire, if y' look - I laid a bit in. O' y' kin let 't burn down, as y' like. Y' kin use m' cloak, if y' get cold."
Tomassa rises as well, a sudden glimpse of disappointment in her face. "You are leaving to hunt?" she asks, half extending a hand toward him. "When will you sleep?"
Quite seriously, and tiredly, the young man takes that hand. "I need t' eat. Wi' nae be long." With a gentle squeeze, "An' wi' come back 't that - s' my home, fer what 't is. M' nae goin' far." He smiles, sadly - "Get some rest, Tomassa - if nothin' else, th' Emperor 'mself wi' nae find ye here, nae tonight." He lets go of that hand, moving back a dozen steps.. then upwind, away from the horse.
Tomassa almost, *almost* steps after him and then does after a moment. "Wait," she says, quietly beseeching. One step becomes another step and then Tomassa darts across the intervening space. Impulsively, she wraps her arms about him to clasp him in a tight and almost desperate hug.
Kael returns it - after a moment of surprise.. fiercely. "s' alright. There now -" A bit awkward, the words, but his warm smile, the gentle eyes - those are honest, and say more.
Tomassa steps back, actually a bit embarassed, and she looks away toward the fire. "Sorry. Ah... good luck on your hunt," she offers while moving back to the fire. She sinks down near to it and wraps herself in the unusual fur cloak she wears.
Kael murmers, softly - "Ne'er apologize, Tomassa - nae fer that." He rubs at his own arm - a bit overwhelmed. "I.. s' been a long time." He clears his throat. "Thankye. An'.. t'morrow, I hope." His eyes... ignite, in a guttering red fire, mirroring the flame. "Wi' luck, wi' hae a bit left o'er. If y' kin stand m' cookin' - I donnae usually bother." As he talks.. his form.. and his voice.. they blur. Shift. It's an eye-bending thing, an impossibility that lasts only the space of a few heartbeats, those words going from his clear tenor to a gutteral snarl.
The beast he is is.. massive. Four feet at the head, ten feet long from nose to tail - it is a rockwolf.. black-furred and with eyes of burning embers. Quills just from its back, and paws.. light, those paws - his own boots would fit in the prints they leave. Mid chest on a man, at least. It growls out - "An' aye, y' wi' be safe, if y' stay." Even as it speaks, it turns away, stalking on heavy paws into the dark wood.
Tomassa sits up in the first fear she's felt in a long time, clutching at her cloak. The fear turns to amazement and awe within heartbeats, but she presses one hand over her heart to try to calm it as she watches him stalk away.
It pauses, at the edge of sight, glancing back, shaking those quills so that they rattle slightly, growling out - ".. t' answer ye. Nae a boy, no. But m' nae yet good 't bein' /man/." With a low, gruff sound... it heads off, first a lope, then a run - gone into the night.
Return to Season 6 (2007)
